tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85710551872414140792024-03-13T12:17:14.799-04:00bare baby feet......in the green, green grass.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.comBlogger191125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-20017242989161326992016-04-06T19:04:00.003-04:002016-04-06T19:04:39.741-04:00Lucidity - First in a whileI signed up to do a workshop for Professional Development (PD) Days ... a "fun" workshop, not related to teaching or stress or pedagogy or curricula. I proposed to repeat a talk I gave some years ago on lucid dreaming. It was a physics instructor-friend who talked me into the first presentation at Cafe Scientifique, a regular public session at a local bookstore. I said no I'm not qualified, he said yes you are, I said no I'm not, he said yes you are, I said, I have two small children, I can't get away for an evening, he said I'll wait. He waited, and eventually I gave the talk.<br />
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So I have done this once before, successfully, with a room full of people who actually wanted to hear me talk about dreaming and also wanted to share. A lot of things. Including, "I had an organ transplant and now I have the dreams of the original owner of the kidney." Not kidding. I was blown away by the amount of sharing.<br />
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Myself, I have always had a vivid dream life. Always. For as long as I have had memories, I have had dreams. Sometimes I can control them, which makes them "lucid." A lucid dream is vivid, crazy vivid, colorful, beautiful, fleeting, amazing, so amazing. I have flown over the Masai Mara and into the stars. Once I ate asparagus (why not?).<br />
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There are ways to "become lucid" on purpose, and I used to do this (or at least try this) regularly. Getting ready for PD Days I'm trying again, and last night I was sooooo close to being successful. So so close.<br />
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I had a dream where I was at the Center for Teaching Excellence (CTE) and I saw a person in a costume. The costume had a ribbon (like a bow) where the head should be. I woke up and remembered the dream and thought, "That was a sign I was dreaming. There's no way a person could have had that costume on, there was no room for their actual head." As I drifted back to sleep, I concentrated on re-entering that dream, and I did.<br />
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I looked at the costume and said to myself, "That's not real, I'm dreaming." And I became "lucid." I told L and K that I was dreaming and they congratulated me. I was trying to think of something to do, and I considered jumping out the window and flying away. This is where it fails, completely. I decided not to, because L and K would get upset if I jumped out the window. Big time fail. I did NOT recognize that L and K would not be upset because they were dream-people, not actual people.<br />
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Some sound woke me, and done. I'm close, if not there, and I have a few weeks before the talk. So here's to a night of lucidity, and patience from my husband as I ask him for the 100th time, "Am I dreaming?"<br />
<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-18025692708813339512015-11-04T18:56:00.001-05:002015-11-04T18:56:33.044-05:00Building Infinity<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hFyhSVd0jP8/VjqbCYvgvNI/AAAAAAAAAjM/hMjecEFegCw/s1600/IMG_2240.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hFyhSVd0jP8/VjqbCYvgvNI/AAAAAAAAAjM/hMjecEFegCw/s200/IMG_2240.JPG" width="150" /></a>I told the kids we could use every last Lego in the house to build a great big Lego tower/city/country. Michael has named it "Lego State University," and I estimated that we would be finished by Thanksgiving. Alas, in my text-to-Aunt-Eileen that we were "running out of Legos," she sent a box more. <br />
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And so it continues, into Lego infinity, including my own Lego set from 1976 (red, white and blue). Send more, lest we are faced with that last "snap" of one to the other. How sad will that be?<br />
<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-35778509790355564612014-11-13T07:03:00.004-05:002014-11-13T07:07:26.651-05:00Diva Challenge #193<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"></span>
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;">This week's challenge was just perfect! THX to all who have served using:</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.zenjoy.ch/2014/08/17/trio-ein-neues-muster-a-new-pattern/" style="text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Trio (pattern by CZT, Hanny Waldburger)</a></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://tanglepatterns.com/2010/05/how-to-draw-huggins-2.html" style="color: #53c03f; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Huggins (by Zentangle)</a></span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: #4e0000; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.2000007629395px; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://archive.constantcontact.com/fs023/1101168872594/archive/1102153348334.html" style="color: #53c03f; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Xyp (by Zentangle)</a></span><br />
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When I first tried these three in my sketchbook, I was beyond frustrated, especially with Huggins. I could NOT make it look weavy. It looked all slapped together and sloppy. Then, funny enough, I let go of the instructions, which is very not like me, and figured it out. Another busy tile, but I'm okay with it. This one, at least, does reflect the mood. If I did the Trio pattern again, I would try for a little less heart-ness and a little more something-else-ness.<br />
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<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-68097253694530005682014-10-28T19:16:00.000-04:002014-10-28T19:16:30.065-04:00Diva Challenge #191<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oopsie. Pretty sure I violated the monotangle thing...but I saw these bubbly things and I thought I would just use a few and then, well, this is what happened.</div>
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Sorry, rule-followers. I'll do better next time.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-63782952657002880242014-09-26T06:28:00.001-04:002014-09-26T06:28:09.315-04:00Diva Challenge #186Okay, so you know when you start working on a project and halfway through you step back and say, "Um, who did this?" In contrast to the clean, restrained pictures I've made for the last few weeks, this one went all wacky on me.<br />
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First, I had an hour to start the challenge, and I didn't have a circular tile. That's right, I'm now the girl who was asked to bring brownies but shows up with chips and salsa. Then, I didn't like my leaves, and I vowed to use only three tangles but I couldn't get enough contrast and then I had to continue the tile in the early morning hours before work and so my tile is all, "I was drawn by a crazy person." <br />
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There you have it. What I could use (if you feel like commenting) is some constructive criticism on how to make the busy tiles look right. You know, some of my most favorite tiles done by NOT ME are full of different designs and ups and downs and movement and, well, wackiness. But they look RIGHT. So give me comments like, "Don't put those two designs next to each other because blabla..." and things like that. And if you don't want to deal with it, I don't blame you. I wouldn't either.<br />
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<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-54650234596954110032014-09-19T06:36:00.003-04:002014-09-19T06:36:52.105-04:00Weekly Diva Challenge # 185My new favorite tangle is Phicops. It's ALIVE! I love it love it love it. My Diva Dance needs a little work, but I'm getting the hang of it.<br />
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Comments from the family included, "A butterfly?" "Cuts of meat," and "It's not my favorite." But I thoroughly enjoyed creating it and I didn't rip it up. :) Thanks for the challenge and thanks for the inspiration.<br />
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<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-8248445997182022482014-08-23T19:27:00.000-04:002014-08-23T19:33:33.017-04:00The Weekly Diva Challenge - #181 - Water<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week's challenge was "Water." I can see why so many people decided to use color! It's hard to feel water without the blue. Time to buy some good colored pencils. Thanks for the inspiration. It's been a tough week, and this process does help me relax...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first water tile. A 2" square and my first time adding any color. As you can tell, I'm taking it slow. This one is for a friend, initials KC...Kelp and Cockles and Mussels. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My second water tile. I think I'll take a cue from others and photocopy it to color. It wants blues and greens, but I was afraid to mess it up! :)</td></tr>
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<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-91582380326667988442014-08-14T13:24:00.001-04:002014-08-14T13:26:41.365-04:00We are funny.I love it when my kids surprise me with their humor...last night I got a big belly laugh courtesy of E.<br />
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We watch a ton of "reality" shows on Netflix. We've made our way through Mythbusters, Call of the Wildman, Man vs. Wild, and Finding Bigfoot. Now we're working on The Jeff Corwin Experience, and the kids are still getting used to his funky little asides, some of which is way above their heads. Last night's episode took place in Brazil, and Jeff was watching some giant otters. He was making these squeaky noises and the otters were answering, and he was very excited. <br />
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E: How does he know what he's saying?<br />
Me: I don't know.<br />
E: Maybe he's saying something really stupid.<br />
Me: What?<br />
E: Like, maybe he's saying, "Put the broccoli on the roof." And the otters are saying, "That's so stupid! Why would you say that?"<br />
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:) Love.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-56941699741026274382014-08-13T10:36:00.000-04:002014-08-13T10:36:25.460-04:00Diva Challenge #180Loving the online challenges...I must miss being in school or something. Assignments with deadlines are fun, especially when they don't involve grading scales and red mark-ups.<br />
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This was another one that I plowed through even though I didn't like it at first. It turned out very heavy, but not terrible. I wonder if I should plan for a heavy or a light touch, or just let it happen. Maybe it's mood related! :)<br />
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<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-21047291410932281082014-08-02T18:26:00.000-04:002014-08-02T18:35:21.260-04:00Zentangle Diva Challenge #178This is my first try at a Zentangle online challenge. I tried the method at a workshop in May and I was hooked...so so fun and I can't believe nobody told me about it sooner. :) <br />
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This is what I came up with to represent my initials, Mambo and Eddy. At first I thought the two very curvy patterns would just be too much, but I stuck with it...cause it's way too easy for me to rip up a project into tiny pieces and make it disappear.<br />
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So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-41270417437314891182013-09-14T13:51:00.000-04:002013-09-14T13:51:05.946-04:00The Gaga DilemmaGo ahead and judge, it's fine. I already judge myself when I read the following sentence...<br />
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So, the kids have been listening to Kidz Bop. We got a bunch of them out of the library, and E and M both LOVE the song Paparazzi. E insisted for two weeks that Brittany Spears sings the original version, and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I could not let her think that, I just could not bear it. So I told her that I was "pretty sure" it wasn't Brittany...and after several conversations I said, "Fine. I'm going to get a Lady Gaga CD and play you the real song." Which I did.<br />
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After quietly listening to ma Lady, E stated (very definitively), "Wow. She has got a GREAT voice." "Yes," I agreed. "Yes, she does." And so, after an internal battle that lasted several minutes, I played them most of the rest of the double CD set. I did manage to cut off a few questionable lyrics mid-sentence, but they got a good taste of it. And they loved it. M said, "Play that one again with the he ate my heart." Emma is requesting "Telephone," also better than the Kidz Bop version, and "Alejandro." <br />
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I did not intend for this to happen. E told me the other day, "You are the best Mom because you let us listen to Lady Gaga. Most of the other mothers don't." Whoopsie.<br />
<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-91062554458221661112011-09-10T16:12:00.005-04:002011-09-10T17:16:53.242-04:00What is Grief?A few years ago, I put to paper what my experience was on September 11, 2001. Like most, I can remember snippets of the day, television screens, quiet skies, disbelief. This ten year anniversary has brought to mind not the initial shock, though, but the feelings that followed and continue today when I hear the newscasters recount "the events as they unfolded." In actuality, my world seemed to stand still for several months following 9/11 as I wound my way through life on autopilot, unable to believe that there would even be a tomorrow (let alone a next year). I vividly remember a bike ride with Mike where I felt so overwhelmed with sorrow that I stopped on the side of the road and wept. When he asked what I was feeling I described it this way...the only thing I wanted to do at that moment was take my bike over my head and hurl it into the field. I wish I had accepted then what it was that kept me up at night and miserable during the day. It was grief.<br /><br />My reaction seemed ridiculous to me at the time, knowing that I was safe in the Midwest, nowhere near danger. I scoured the lists of people who were killed convinced I should know at least one person...that would validate my emotions. But there was no familiar name, no face I recognized. Looking back it seems so obvious...much as I complained about the concrete and the oppressive crowds, I considered New York my city. People in Michigan always raise an eyebrow when I say I'm from NY, even though my hometown resembles Okemos more than it does Detroit. On September 11 there I was, hundreds of miles from "home," where my people were suffering.<br /><br />My brother was working downtown during the attacks, and for several difficult hours I did not know where he was. My sister knew one of the firefighters that was missing, the father of my niece's friend. Once I could get a call to her (close to midnight), we sat and talked as we watched the horrific videos shown over and over again. In the months that followed, I was not only grieving the 3000 strangers who died, I had lost my sense of security. How on earth would I travel when I could never envision boarding a plane again? I thought I was pretty smart, and knew how things worked. But apparently the world can change overnight, and we are left powerless, small and terrified.<br /><br />I still cannot fathom what some people lost that day...friends, co-workers, family. But having since experienced the death of my father, sister, and mother-in-law, I now have a clear picture of where my depression came from. I fought it because I didn't feel like I had the right to grieve, but I did. We all do. There is no sense in making an internal comparison of who lost more, or when. If I had owned my loss ten years ago, talked about it, asked for help, I might have been able to switch off the autopilot sooner. Really, I should have just thrown the bike.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-66560699246515437952011-09-07T21:10:00.003-04:002011-09-10T17:12:52.890-04:00My First Day of KindergartenNo, I'm not writing this from E's point of view. In the hour and a half I spent in her classroom yesterday, I learned a lot. Tons. More than she did, probably. Now I know what people meant when they said, "Just wait til your kids start school."<br /><br />On my first day of kindergarten, I learned...<br /><br /><ul><li>I'm going to need an inbox for all the papers E brings home. And an outbox for all of my homework.</li><br /><li>Although they deny it, they're expecting kids who enter kindergarten to know how to write their names, cut paper with scissors, and match letters with sounds. Gone are the days of tissue-paper-crinkle projects.</li><br /><li>There is a big difference between "carline" and "parent drop-off."</li><br /><li>My girl is so much like me it's scary. As I filled in the sheet describing her, it was as if I was answering the question, "What were you like, exactly, as a 5-year old?"</li><br /><li>Put me in an elementary school and I'm immediately a teacher-pleasing machine. I hope she liked me.</li><br /><li>The Pledge of Allegiance makes me cry.</li></ul><p>This is going to be a big year for us. In the end, I hope my hard work merits a "satisfactory," but I'm betting on "needs improvement."</p>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-42276682983291531482011-08-11T14:58:00.002-04:002011-08-11T15:25:17.716-04:00The (Cat) Gods Must Be CrazyI cannot believe that I have old cats. How did this happen? I had no idea that Larry was 13 until I was forced to do the math for a new veterinary office last fall. That means that in this house, we have Larry, now aged 14 (or thereabouts), Bean, aged 14 or (gasp) 15, and Mac, who is at least 10. It shouldn't surprise me that they are accumulating health problems as numerous as their whiskers, yet I find myself truly expecting them to live forever. They HAVE to live forever, by the way, because E and baby M love them. These cats must never die.
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<br />Larry's Fall Adventure (short version) included six (or more?) trips to the vet, a feeding tube, two nights of saying goodbye (sure he wouldn't make it until morning), and a miraculous recovery. He now looks and acts like a healthy, young kitten with a new lease on life. E calls him "Lar-Lar." Rhymes with "Bear-Bear." Betcha didn't know even nicknames have nicknames.
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<br />Mac's Belly Bomb was diagnosed last month as either something like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">IBD</span> or Lymphoma, take your pick. Either way, the Big symptom is lots and lots of puke and a big old <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">tummy</span> ache. He's been on medication that he takes rather well, and he probably will be on it for the rest of his days. He seems happy enough and the puking has all but stopped, so we're just thinking happy thoughts for now.
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<br />Bean's Sugar Shake started a few months ago, when he was looking thin and lethargic. I brought him in to said vet and he was diagnosed with (EEK) diabetes. During a tearful meeting, I blubbered that I didn't want to start insulin, I couldn't deal with another sick cat, couldn't we do anything else? Please? So we changed diets (high protein, low <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">carb</span>) and crossed our fingers. Bean improved for a while, but last week I saw how thin he was getting and decided that the insulin had to happen now, or never (if you get my drift). So I entered the vet's office yet again, full of angst and tears, and said that yes, I could probably TRY the insulin for a few months. If my quality of life was suffering, I would re-evaluate.
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<br />Well, dang it if that cat's blood sugar wasn't back in the normal range! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I think I did both. Though he IS skinny, it is probably due to the shift in diet, and he's losing the baby-fat that I had grown to love. I always called him "Big Boned," to spare his feelings when friends said he was overweight. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Oy</span>.
<br />
<br />So the current plan is just to stop time altogether, prevent everyone from aging (kids included), and that will be that. We'll just live today over, again and again, Groundhog Day style. Let's, okay?
<br />So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-67425903282803807442011-08-07T15:36:00.002-04:002011-08-07T15:59:55.321-04:00FlashbacksWhen E asked me to go on the log flume at Michigan's Adventure last week, I had to pause for a moment to think about it. I was banking on a day without roller coasters...the kids are only 5 and 3 after all. Surely they're not tall enough to ride anything that would scare me, right? Absolutely wrong. With an adult, a kid her height could ride several of the larger rides, said flume included.<br /><br />I know that the log flume is technically not a roller coaster, with only the one hill and all, but it's a big hill. It is. It's a lose-your-belly kind of hill, which I know because I accompanied E for three trips up the clickity-clacks, around the (leaky) river, and down the drop. Eek. "Why did you scream the whole way down, Mom?" Oh, did I? Sorry. I'll try to be quieter next time.<br /><br />When she asked Mike to bring her on the smallest of the adult coasters, I was a bit nervous, thinking back to the time I took poor little Stephanie on her first coaster at Great Adventure. I was fooled by the fact that it looked like an innocent little train ride with a few hills...it actually turned out to be a moderately rough ride, and was, um, a bit much for her. If I remember correctly, it ended with crying and screaming about love and trust and never again.<br /><br />Thankfully, E's experience was much more on the delightful side, and the only crying came when it was time to go home. Mike, ever the good Daddy, rode with her no less than six times, though I think he would have preferred to watch the action from the sidelines with a cold beverage. It was a great day trip for us, though I'm looking forward to the time when we can send her off with a school or church group to satisfy her enthusiasm for the biggest, fastest amusement park rides. 'Cause I'm NOT going on that bungie thing, or the coaster where your feet are dangling out the bottom. I'm just not.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-75665619208970858172011-03-30T22:33:00.002-04:002011-03-30T22:50:33.171-04:00What Rhymes with Frustrated?A transcript of a conversation at bedtime....I tried to get it about word for word. <br /><br /><strong>Me:</strong> (saying a prayer) <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> Is that a rhyme? <br /><strong>Me:</strong> No, not really. <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> What's a rhyme? <br /><strong>Me:</strong> Well, like 'star' and 'far.' I think you know how to rhyme...what rhymes with 'red'? <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> Strawberry! <br /><strong>Me:</strong> A strawberry IS red, but it doesn't rhyme with red. 'Bed' rhymes with 'red.' <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> What rhymes with 'motorcycle?' <br /><strong>Me:</strong> Some people say 'Michael motorcycle.' That rhymes. <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> What starts with 'tree?' <br /><strong>Me:</strong> You mean what letter does it start with? <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> No. What does it rhyme with? <br /><strong>Me:</strong> Hmm...'tree' rhymes with 'me.' <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> 'Tree' rhymes with you? <br /><strong>Me:</strong> No, it rhymes with 'me.' Say, "Tree rhymes with me." <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> "Tree rhymes with me." <br /><strong>Me:</strong> So what does 'tree' rhyme with? <br /><strong>Baby m:</strong> It rhymes with Mom.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-6830372989159712142011-03-29T06:26:00.004-04:002011-03-29T06:37:29.499-04:00Unplugged Project - Borax Snowflakes<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ujq2vG1qj1E/TZG1yW4rxSI/AAAAAAAAAaI/b9klgHi1Qhc/s1600/DSCN3771.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 244px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589448489284912418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ujq2vG1qj1E/TZG1yW4rxSI/AAAAAAAAAaI/b9klgHi1Qhc/s320/DSCN3771.JPG" /></a>We've been away from the Unplugged Project for a while, probably because we've been away from our blog! But we checked back in for the "Soap" theme, and made these pretty Borax crystal snowflakes. <br /><div></div><br /><div>There are many different sets of directions out there, with varying amounts of Borax added to hot (or boiling) water, but it seems that the gist is that you have to get the water super-saturated. Hang your pipe cleaner <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">slow flake</span> in the solution overnight, and in the morning you have lots crystals! In fact, they started to form in just about an hour. The kids liked the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">measuring</span> and stirring, and checked on the progress quite a few times during the day...</div><br /><div>Yes, it would have been more appropriate project at Christmas time, but we have had sleet and ice here in Michigan at least three times this month! Maybe we can hang these in the window to appease Jack Frost. :)</div>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-56049243502209502282011-03-27T07:30:00.002-04:002011-03-27T07:57:32.960-04:00Earth Hour AdventureWhen a friend reminded me of "Earth Hour" on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Facebook</span> yesterday, I was so so so glad that I hadn't missed it AGAIN! I've heard about this event for a few years, and have yet to plan well enough to actually do it...turn off all the lights for one hour (8:30pm - 9:30pm) as a symbolic gesture about energy savings. Here, our electricity is powered almost exclusively by coal, so if everyone in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Okemos</span> took part (they didn't), we might <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">actually</span> save a pile of carbon entering the atmosphere. Besides the lights, we also took it as an opportunity to go low=tech, turning off the electronics as well. Here's how our night went:<br /><br /><ul><li>8:20 - At the end of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Scooby</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Doo</span> and the Crocodile something or other, I turned off the TV, put away my computer, and all the lights I could find. It was not quite dark yet, but the kids were totally into it. Mike lit some candles, the fireplace already had a lovely little fire going.</li><li>8:30 - I asked Mike about the timers on the outdoor lights (just out of curiosity, really), and he went out and shut all of those off too. :)</li><li>8:32 - We looked out the windows to see if anybody else in the neighborhood was participating, and found that each house looked doubly bright now that all of our lights were off. I joked to M that we could start calling people to inform them that they should be turning off their lights, and E thought I was serious. She brought me the phone.</li><li>8:33 - I called cousin S, whom I knew was also already sitting in the dark, and Grandma P, who said she would be very glad to turn off her lights and go to bed right away. E was pleased.</li><li>8:35 - We found a flashlight for each person, and E immediately suggested that we play hide-and-seek in the dark. Then, just as abruptly, she said she might just be too scared to do that.</li><li>8:45 - Deep into a game of hide-and-seek, the kids were now comfortable enough to creep around with their flashlights looking for M and me...so much so that I felt okay jumping out from behind the furniture to scare them when I heard them coming.</li><li>8:50 - Together, we took a tour of the house in the dark. We found that even without flashlights, there was enough light coming through the windows that we could see well enough to avoid the furniture. Downstairs, though, you couldn't even see your hand in front of your face. A few bumps and dings, and one little anxiety attack (E), but it was pretty fun, really.</li><li>9:00 - We gathered in front of the fireplace with one flashlight and read two chapters of Mary Kate and Ashley, The Case of the Haunted Camp. In an unfortunate turn of events, the "ghost" turned out to be girl named Emma. Whoops. We changed her name to Grace.</li><li>9:20 - Bedtime for the kids...E was pretty freaked, but we did try to get her to relax without all of the nightlights we usually use. Baby m had no problem..."I'm very brave, right?"</li></ul><p>I would say this was a really nice way to end the day, and this morning E has already asked when we can do it again. She did have one nightmare last night, but it had to do with robots, not sleep-away camp. Though in recounting the dream (at 3am) she did use the phrase, "Never to be seen again..." - a direct quote from Ashley Olson. :)</p>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-52542543686002697302010-06-14T19:43:00.004-04:002010-06-18T17:38:41.677-04:00Do Caterpillars Sleep?Well, we're not really sure if it's technically "sleep", but a caterpillar does take a long rest in his <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">chrysalis</span>. We did a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">caterpillar</span> project from the book, Explore Spring! Yes, it's still spring, even though the temperature was in the high 80s yesterday.<br /><br /><div></div><div>E and I colored pictures of butterflies and caterpillars that we copied from the book. Baby m colored everything, including his arms and the table, and he graciously helped me finish coloring my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">butterfly</span>. The good news is that he does get excited when I ask him if he wants to do a "project"! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482781819851888370" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FKXAaEDKwJA/TBbBBCE91vI/AAAAAAAAAZk/jHOP_JimMSY/s320/DSCN2412.JPG" />When we were finished, we cut the pictures into strips and glued them to construction paper. Then we folded them "like a fan" (according to E) so that you could see only one or the other. I had hoped that she would do the cutting herself, but she was nervous about getting the lines straight enough. I probably shouldn't have done mine first.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484229941950437378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FKXAaEDKwJA/TBvmE1SEWAI/AAAAAAAAAZs/HC4bddnqnTs/s320/DSCN2416.JPG" /></div><br />I couldn't get E interested in the butterfly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">life cycle</span>...she was much to intent on getting her pink and purple wings done the way she wanted them. But on the plus side, I was reminded about this cool type technique, which you can also use with cutouts from magazines and such. I had forgotten totally how neat they look!So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-41996656273492395982010-04-21T21:43:00.005-04:002010-04-21T21:54:23.622-04:00Teaching FractionsNot sure how it started, but E is very interested in math. She always wants me to quiz her on addition, and she uses her fingers find the answer. We haven't gotten past ten, for obvious reasons (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">ie</span> not enough fingers), but I have been impressed with her level of understanding!<br /><br /><div><div></div><div>She asked me a while ago, what "half" means...okay, well, you try it! I stumbled around talking about cutting a pie into equal halves, wait, I mean parts, and you have the same amount on this side and that side...finally she lost interest. I really didn't think she was listening, but the next day before <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">nap time</span> she said, "I only ate HALF of my snack. I'm saving the rest for later." Oh, I thought, she gets it! Then she handed me her bowl...</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462773908418555234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FKXAaEDKwJA/S8-r7TuPbWI/AAAAAAAAAZU/d_abhdoo40c/s320/DSCN2133.JPG" />Yes, she ate HALF of each M&M and each <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Cheez</span>-it. Now it's your turn to judge whether I'm a terrible teacher, or a terrible mother for letting her eat any fraction of that!</div>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-48294169467386535152010-04-05T20:44:00.003-04:002010-04-05T20:57:56.493-04:00Huh?My babies have been especially funny lately...E talks non-stop and Baby m is struggling to keep up. Today he greeted me at school with a big hug and stuttered, "I love...I love..." I looked down at his precious little face and his teachers had that "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">awwww</span>" expression as he struggled to find the words to express himself. "I love...I love...I love....Daddy." Oh, well. I already knew I was a distant second.<br /><br />Spring has brought some new vocabulary to the house, as E picks "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">daffadillos</span>" from the garden and watches the "red robin orange breast" look for worms. And by the way, did you know that "Wedgies are bad. They can kill you, even." <br /><br />In addition to her unintended humor, E has discovered knock-knock jokes and she can deliver a few pretty well. Her favorite happens to be the same as mine...have you heard the one about the "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Impterumpting</span> cow?" Moo. Oh, and her second favorite one is a bit over my head, I guess...the punchline is "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Poopypants</span> underwear." Get it?So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-43460416602664388842010-01-29T15:33:00.002-05:002010-01-29T15:48:32.481-05:00Why is Everybody So Mad at Jay Leno?Regardless of your opinion on the quality of their shows, the whole Jay/Conan fiasco has been difficult to watch. What an all-out mess. I heard a quote from Jay on the radio yesterday that said something like, "I don't know why everybody is so angry. They offered me my job back. Who wouldn't take it?" Good point, Jay. A job is on the table, big bucks, fame and fortune, who wouldn't grab it?<br /><br />So I found myself contemplating why I, too, was angry at Jay. I mean, he may be a perfectly nice guy, probably won't be meeting him any time soon...why am I really, really mad? It's because I, like most of middle Americans these days, am fearful for my own position. I am darned lucky...I get a paycheck every two weeks, and I supposedly have job security. But hey, "in this economy," who knows. Jeez-Louise, poor Conan and his entourage pulled up stakes and MOVED ACROSS THE COUNTRY. Now what? Granted, he's not going to have trouble putting food on the table, but Conan represents us. We the people, terrified of a pink slip, counting on stability. Jay is apparently the one holding the cards, the one we're all afraid is going to sneak up and pull the world out from under us.<br /><br />Be aware, Jay, that your audience will be changing. Many of your faithful will leave you as soon as Conan is allowed to show his face again on TV. He is one of us, you no longer are.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-25972643691952357222010-01-22T19:00:00.004-05:002010-01-22T19:19:41.600-05:00The Cheese Queens of OkemosAmong the many activities planned for the Clark family visit was one I've been dreaming of since reading "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle." We, humble suburban family in middle America, made cheese. In the kitchen. And it was good.<br /><br />Barbara <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kingsolver</span> describes it as "easy", and multiple websites said that it would take a half hour, but I just couldn't believe that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mozzarella</span> could be produced from milk so effortlessly! Until I read up about it in <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">preparation</span> for the event, I didn't understand that there were quite a few soft cheeses that can be made without aging and without expensive equipment. I did need to buy "rennet" (we went with the veggie kind) and citric acid, which (truth be told) pushed the price of our batch up to about $14 dollars, but if I make it even once again, it will be totally worth it financially speaking.<br /><br />The brave girls went to work in the kitchen, stirring and testing the temperature so as not to overcook the milk. The menfolk stayed a safe distance away, in the living room, watching the Jets accomplish the impossible! I can't blame them for not getting involved, considering the incredible football game and the prospect of having to acknowledge what curds really are. But for real, this cheese thing was nothing short of miraculous. Check out the curds and whey!<br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429721024746285394" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FKXAaEDKwJA/S1o-gQ146VI/AAAAAAAAAYk/hMtIwFK19Ig/s320/DSCN1835.JPG" />Honest and true, if we had been a little less nervous, we could have done it in about 25 minutes. And after N pulled and shaped and pulled again, it looked an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">awful</span> lot like spectacular cheese. And with a little salt, it was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">freakin</span>' awesome. S and I feasted on little cheese slabs on tomatoes with olive oil, and we were very happy. So happy, in fact, that we endeavored to take the next step and turn the leftover whey into ricotta.</p><p>Now, I had read that this was not so easy, and more than one website said, "Don't try it, it doesn't work." But after much heating and stirring and straining through cheesecloth, we ended up with about three tablespoons of darned good ricotta. If you paid us by the hour, that cheese was worth about $36 per pound. But let me tell you this....there is nothing, I mean nothing, like a bowl of pasta covered in your own <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">stinkin</span>' kitchen cheese. Seriously. </p>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-53574885849953111142010-01-04T20:50:00.002-05:002010-01-04T21:06:26.621-05:00My Little Star (with no video attached)A few weeks before Christmas, M and I heard a rumor that there was going to be some sort of holiday presentation after E's Sunday school class. We asked E about it, but couldn't get anything out of her. We went to church thinking we'd probably hear a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-school rendition of "Silent Night", and then we'd eat cookies. No big deal, right?<br /><br />Wrong. It was a whole production based on a story about little pine trees in the forest. One of the teachers read the script and the kids carried birds, bunnies, trees, and stars glued onto sticks. First the little trees stepped up and "grew" on command, and two of them were picked to be Christmas trees. The one that was left looked sad (also on command) and the forest creatures tried to cheer it up. The bunnies brought berries and the birds brought feathers...they decorated the tree and everyone was happy. Then, the stars came out.<br /><br />E marched up into place with the other "stars-on-a-stick" and held hers high in the sky above the tree. It was so sweet, and I was really wishing we had brought a camera. Then all the stars moved away except one...one little star took its place right in the top branches, and guess who it was! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">AHHHH</span>! How could she not have told us that she was THE star? My little baby girl star, on top of the tree. Another little girl star walked up and tried to take her place, and E did the only thing she could...whacked her with the stick. I have NEVER wanted a video camera more than at that moment.<br /><br />I never really understood the "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">ooohhing</span>" and "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">ahhhhing</span>" that parents do at every little thing their kid accomplishes...that is until I saw my daughter perform in her first play, a star in every sense of the word.So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8571055187241414079.post-14900443308524827652009-10-01T12:23:00.004-04:002009-10-01T12:30:14.319-04:00Dear Oprah, It's still true.<span style="font-family:georgia;">Today I was cleaning out the files on my work computer and found a letter I wrote to Oprah about 5 years ago. She had a contest to find the "most romantic man," and lucky me...I have one. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear Oprah,<br /><br />Romance is not all about flowers and candlelight…it’s an attitude. Some men have it, and my fiancé is one of those wonderful men. It took me a long time to find him (I’m 33 and he’s 36), but as you know, the best things in life sometimes drop out of the sky when and where you least expect it.<br /><br />Mike dropped into my life at a local running club, and I knew he was the real deal on our first date. It was Easter Sunday, 2001, and he came over to my apartment to pick me up for a movie. When I answered the door, he was standing there with a plate of desserts from his family get together. He had brought me a slice of cheesecake, chocolate pie, and some cookies wrapped in plastic. That night he held open every door and gave me a goodnight kiss on the cheek (I tried for the lips, but didn’t get anywhere!), and of course he called me the next day to tell me what a good time he had. Since that day, I have never had a doubt about his feelings for me.<br /><br />During our relationship, he has shown me romance in the classic ways like giving me flowers, taking me to dinner, and giving me presents. But anyone can do those things…TRUE romance is different. Last year a non-profit organization where I volunteer had an art sale. Not only did he show up early to help out, but he went home with an armful of recycled art, including a wooden pig made by a local third grader. And he was happy. The pig sits in the living room, peeking out from under a potted plant.<br /><br />He calls me from work whenever there’s a full moon out, or when there’s a beautiful sunset that he doesn’t want me to miss. He starts my car in the morning so it’s warmed up by the time I leave for work, and he makes all of his own greeting cards on the computer…mushy sayings and all!<br /><br />Oprah, when I send you a video, you’ll get the rest of the story, including how he proposed. Your heart will melt just like mine did…thanks for giving me the chance to gush over my man.<br /></span><br /><br />I did send in a video, but (sigh) never heard from Ms. Winfrey. Five years later, all of the above is still true, and more. He's a great Daddy, and now he writes out the mushy sayings in crayon and markers. I have tried a few times to toss the pig in the trash, but he won't let me. :) I love you M, more today than yesterday.<br /><p></p>So Smrthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12858882650278394401noreply@blogger.com1