Five of Nine

Take Me Out to the Ballgame!

2008-12-28T00:05:00.011-05:00

On Christmas night I did something I have never done before. I went to see a professional basketball game.

Now the reason I have never done that before is because I was sure that it was something I would not like.

But my son, Mr. Nice Guy, has lately become a huge basketball fan, and The Entrepreneur decided it would be nice if the whole family went to a game together.

So off we drove to Cleveland to watch The Cleveland Cavaliers battle with the Washington Wizards to maintain their 14-game home winning streak.

I thought I was going to die of boredom. I anticipated an anxiety attack from my fear of heights knowing we would have the worst seats at the very top of a gigantic arena.

But you know what? I had a blast!

Who knew that there was so much more to basketball that what is going on with the actual game. If you get a little bit tired of watching the players dribble up and down the floor so what. There is something else to entertain you. There is the Jumbotron.

There is a wonderful slice of American Pie up there on the big screen. You get to meet the players and pick the one you think is the best looking. Then there is the Mistletoe game, where they zoom in on a couple and force them to kiss.

There are funny posters made by fans and close-ups of darling children who are fans in training.

At half time you can watch a mini-concert and some guy getting paid $25 a ball for three minutes worth of long shots.

At the time-out breaks the impossibly cheery cheerleaders will lead you in a yell or just kick up their gold boots for your entertainment.

You can make some noise with plastic bats that are handed out to the crowd and make a mess throwing fake snow placed on your seat in party-favor bags.

If you are lucky you might catch a T-shirt shot into the crowd or a lottery ticket attached to a mini-parachute that falls from the ceiling.

Somewhere in all of that activity the game might get exciting. You might catch yourself on the edge of your seat in the final minutes of the game when the opposing team pulls ahead.

You might realize that your normally reserved son is handing out hugs like candy when his team pulls ahead.

After the win, you might wait calmly in the line to get out of the parking deck and join in with the fans who are honking endlessly in celebration.

You may realize, like I did, that you were wrong about something you never wanted to do.

It just might be a whole lot of fun.

A Christmas Story

2008-12-24T08:36:00.005-05:00

Yesterday a friend who is struggling financially told me a story about how some of her co-workers stepped in to help her this holiday season.

She and her husband are on a debt-repayment program and her entire salary is used for paying the payments. He lost his job in Corporate America and is doing manual labor to support the family.

There are no purchased presents under her tree this year. For her children, she has made gift certificates redeemable for items they want as extra money becomes available.

The other night, she answered the door, and one of her co-workers was standing there with an armload of groceries. She returned to her car and came back with a ham, two bottles of wine and several wrapped gifts.

Someone had emailed her boss to let him know the tough times the family was having. An email went out to the department, and a collection began.

My friend said it was hard to accept the gifts. But she said her feelings of gratitude were stronger than her feelings of embarrassment.

She said that for once she feels the real meaning of Christmas and is so grateful to be working at a job where people really care about her.

This story did a lot for me. It made me feel so grateful that I am able to give my children some things that they want and need this Christmas.

And it made me realize that those of us who are lucky enough to be in that situation have an obligation to help those who are not.

A Bunch of Winos

2008-12-19T07:33:00.007-05:00

Every year my networking group has a gift exchange. The spending limit is $15. The rules are that you bring a wrapped gift and put it in the center table and then you come up according to a number you have drawn.

The first person picks a wrapped gift and then the second person can steal that gift or choose to open another one.

There are 21 men and four women in this group.

Each year I spend a lot of time contemplating the perfect gift because I want people to fight over my gift. I want them to love it and steal it from each other. I want my gift to be the "it' gift of the holiday gift exchange.

So far I am batting zero on that one, because I refuse to do the one thing that will ensure success: I refuse to bring a bottle of wine.

Bottles of booze are a big hit at the gift exchange. Yesterday a bottle of Shiraz was stolen 10 times.

My carefully chosen gift of a high-end car snow scraper with an expendable pole was a complete dud, along with a thought-provoking book on how to increase sales, a pair of movie tickets and a box of gourmet chocolates.

Maybe it's the economy.

I guess there is a reason why they call them "spirits."

Thanks Oprah

2008-12-17T07:28:00.009-05:00

I got my new issue of Oprah yesterday. A fat Oprah is on the cover looking at a thin Oprah from a couple of years back. The tag line says: "How did I let this happen again?"

Inside, in a candid article, Oprah tells why she has gained back the 40 pounds she fought so hard to lose.

She says it is not really about eating too much, or about not exercising enough, but about not taking care of herself. She says that she is back where she started because she has placed a priority on her work and her projects and hasn't taken the time and effort necessary to make herself feel and look good.

That is a great message and one that she sacrificed her pride to make.I have also been putting off the things I want to do until the things I need to do get done. But what I am figuring out is that the list of things that need to get done is way to long.

Reading that article made me decide that in the new year I am going to try to do the things that make me feel great. I am going to have to make time for that and it is going to be tricky, but it has been too long since I:

Read a book
Wrote a poem
Took a run
Wrote a letter
Cooked a nice dinner
Spent time with my best friend

Thanks Oprah for my New Year's Resolution!

Out of the Nest

2008-12-10T06:45:00.007-05:00

This is The Overachiever. Her name is Abby.

In this picture she has just stomped up the stairs from the basement, where she has been living while getting her Master's Degree in Speech Pathology.

Saturday she will put on her cap and gown and say goodbye to college and to living at home.

This morning she kicked me off the internet, left toast crumbs in the bathroom, stole a pair of my socks and rang the doorbell after forgetting her phone.

But I will miss her.

Next week she will move into her own apartment, take off her waitress apron and start a real job.

We won't miss her two cats (well maybe a little) or the mood she gets in after a bad day.

But we will miss how she takes such good care of her little sisters and the energy she brings when she walks into a room.

I am proud to send her out into the world and so happy she has found a career where she will be making a difference in the lives of so many.

You Go Girl!

Recipe for Magic

2008-12-08T07:53:00.008-05:00

This year we had the perfect Recipe for a Successful Christmas Tree:

1. Cut one eight foot tree

2. Drive home with tree hanging out back of car after roof-binding failure

3. Struggle to place in tree stand and center

4. Remove tree from stand when you realize you have forgotten to atach plastic collection bag to base first

5. Attach bag and place in stand again

6. Fight with family over which section of tree should face the front

7. Spray with some fake snow for a realistic effect

8. Wait for fake snow to dry

9. Unpack lights

10. Send hubby to store to replace broken strand of colored lights.

11. Force hubby to apply both white and colored lights to please all family members.

12. Unpack ornaments

13. Get emotional over ornaments with photos of children when they were small

14. Force children to leave computer screens to hang a few ornaments

15. Break a beloved ornament and cry

16. Hang the rest by yourself

17. Unpack old tree skirt and vow once again to buy a new one

18. Dim the lights

19. Stand back

20. Admire the Magic

This cat has skills!

2008-12-05T16:35:00.001-05:00

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

Write It Down

2008-12-03T06:21:00.011-05:00

The other night at a school function I stopped to chat with The Athlete's former third grade teacher. She said that although it has been five years since she had The Athlete in class, she thinks of us often because of a note I wrote thanking her for letting The Athlete bring in the gymnastics medals and trophies she had won to share with the class.

I remember that I thought it was so great at the time that her teacher encouraged all of the children during a "news of the day" segment to get up in front of the class and share anything special that had happened to them. This gave The Athlete an opportunity to share her wins with the class.

And so I went to the store and bought a thank you card and wrote her a note to tell her so.

The teacher said she saved notes like the one I had written and pulled them out over the Christmas holiday every year to read again. She said notes like the one I wrote helped her remember why she chose teaching as a career.

And it got me thinking about notes and letters.

Sometimes I will get a letter in the mail from my dad. He is not a big talker. He hasn't visited in 15 years, and he stays pretty quiet at the rare family event.

But his letters are filled with news of his everyday life on his hobby farm in South Dakota. He gives me news of hunters who have come to go pheasant hunting with him and what he is planting or harvesting at the time.

Those letters are a treasure to me. I have kept them over the years with other special notes and letters in a wooden box my son made for me.

Whenever I get one, I get a thrill thinking that someone I love took time out of their day to put pen to paper and send me a note.

Unlike emails, these pieces of paper are a tangible reminder that things I have done have been appreciated and people I care for love me back.

So I encourage you. If someone has done something special for you, or if you know someone who is going through a hard time and needs some encouragement.

Send a note. It just might live forever.

A Boring Little Christmas

2008-11-29T07:34:00.012-05:00

I was at Target yesterday with The Athlete and the rest of the world. She was picking out hats to go with her new bright yellow dress coat. The Athlete is all about color.

She found a really cute navy blue beret that it was clear no one else in the eighth grade would wear and she had to have it. Also there was the T-shirt she found with a giant bluebird on the front wearing a glittery scarf.

So now she will know at least two of her presents that are going under the tree.

The Brainiac was in New York last week looking at a college and managed to do some damage at the mall. But no regrets. She spread the stuff out all over her bed and told me to go shopping. Now she will know ALL of her presents under the tree.

And I find myself missing the old Christmas. The one where my cart was filled with games and toys.

The one where I wasn't working and the week after Christmas was spent lounging about in my pjs and working at a giant puzzle or reading a book while the kids hopped about the neighborhood comparing presents and building snow forts with their friends.

There was always a kind of magic in that week and I would give anything to get it back for one more year.

So if you have it, if you are home with the kids the week after Christmas, savor it. Let the house get messy. Keep the tree up until New Years. Build a snowman and then make some hot chocolate.

And take lots of pictures to help you re-live the magic later on.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T08:00:00.006-05:00

The Athlete making place settings like she does every year.

All the kids are here and this afternoon three of the S.O.s (Significant Others) will arrive for our Thanksgiving feast, which will be cooked primarily by The Entrepreneur and his sous chef, Mr. Nice Guy. I will be on the fringes, making pies, setting the tables and doing the clean up.

Later, I will post some pictures of our gathering.

Hope you all have a wonderful day spent with people you love!

Soul Song

2008-11-24T22:03:00.018-05:00

Someone sent me a song the other day. Just popped off a link to a song that they saw performed on a talk show and wanted to share. Because this friend is thorough, he also included an earlier version of the song from more than 30 years ago. And that is the song I have fallen in love with.

I had never heard this song, but it is sung by one of my favorite artists. When I heard it, it was like a gift because it was something old but undiscovered, because of the perfect clarity and beauty of the artist's voice, and because the lyrics seemed like they were written just for me.

Sometimes the Brainiac or The Athlete will get hooked on a new song, and they play it over and over again on the kitchen computer until I want to kill myself.

That is what I am doing now with American Tune by Paul Simon. Pretty soon I will know all the words. I will find an old CD with it in the play list and listen to it over and over in my car, the way I do with my other favorites like Johnny Cash's Sunday Morning and Vice Gill's Key to Life. I will think of the genius of the words and the beautiful soulful way they were sung and how listening to it brought tears to my eyes.

I will realize the wonder of true talent and the benefit the rest of us get when someone who has it does what God intended and shares it with the world.

The Sleepover

2008-11-23T07:52:00.011-05:00

Just a few snacks for the Crew

The other night The athlete had a sleepover. With four friends. Yes. That was a crazy idea. But Maggie and Maddie were already invited, and then Shannon and Allie decided to go ice skating too and if they got left out "their feelings would be hurt."

I couldn't say " no" to that. The Athlete is always worried about other people's feelings and that is sweet.

However. Skating was cancelled due to bad weather, and then The Entrepreneur and I faced a long Saturday night trapped in our house with five 14-year-old girls who were now bored.

He had a great idea: He decided to take them to the grocery store and buy them a cart full of junk food and then to the movie store for some Chick flicks.

They purchased two flavors of ice cream, waffle bowls and caramel sauce, chocolate sprinkles, Funyuns, Salt and Vinegar chips and a 12-pack of Sprite.

Apparently, the recession does not apply to sleepovers.

The next morning, I peeked in on them, sleeping sprawled all over The Athlete's bed and I missed the sleepovers of my youth. I bet that after we went to sleep they were prank calling (or texting) boys, playing truth or dare and revealing important secrets.

Next year is high school and everything will change. The rule at our house is no sleepovers past eighth grade, because of what we have already learned from three teenagers.

So I hope until then The Athlete will enjoy many more sleepovers.

I think the only thing better than being 14 is watching your child enjoy it while she mixes salt and vinegar chips with her ice cream.

Lucky Boy

2008-11-20T22:28:00.018-05:00

The Prince

My sister Jen (Eight of Nine) is a new mom. She had her first baby a decade and a half after I had my first, and she is so much smarter. I am having such a good time watching her bring that baby up.

Really I am.

It's not like I am re-living the days with my son, who is all grown up and doesn't call me back a lot of the time in spite of my cheery but desperate messages.

Why not at all.

But I have to tell you I am amazed. Because Jen is an achiever. A person who gets things done. Really kind of a perfectionist. And she is just so easygoing with this nephew of mine. She is just helping him be who he is.

And that makes me so proud.

She is O.K. with how he wrinkles his forehead if you are a new person or if he is trying to figure something out. If he doesn't want to stand up. Who cares. He is an EXCELLENT crawler! She is the head cheerleader of Team Little Prince!

Here is what is different about that son of hers and the one I had a bit too young.

She knows he is a miracle.

She knows that he is perfect.

I think I was too busy juggling the demands of four children to appreciate my miracle.

But now I do. Only he is 20 years old and he thinks it is a bit cheesy that I hang on his every word. That I agonize over what to put under the Christmas tree for him. That I wish I understood him better when he was a toddler chasing toads and ignoring his friends.

What's done is done.

But I remember a few years ago, at Thanksgiving dinner, we all had to say what we really knew for sure, and he said: " I always knew my momma loved me."

So I guess I did O.K.

But if I could go back, older and wiser, and tell the boy that if you are different, you are still perfect in every way, that would be bliss.

So, GO JEN! One chance. You are doing a great job. He is perfect because he YOURS.

From now until he is all grown up, I'll be cheering you on.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

2008-11-18T19:51:00.012-05:00

There are so many blog services out there for which you pay big money. There are little banners and buttons that you can have made that say the name of your blog with a cute little graphic that represents what it is about.

You can have little widgets made for features that you bring back again and again to your site.

I aspire to have a blog like that. But a blog that puts me in the red sounds like a bad idea.

SOOOOOOO.....

A new feature that I want to have on here every now and then is one that tells you all of the very funny and poignant things the preschoolers at the center where I work say. It's going to be called KidzTalk. Someday I will have a cool banner or button for this feature. But for now, I am going to borrow the free colored type feature offered by blogspot.

Here we go with the first KidzTalk:

Victoria, age three, said that yesterday in preschool they had to go around the room and say what they wanted to be when they grew up.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"Oh. I want to be a bluebird," She said.

Excellent goal.

What's Old is New Again

2008-11-18T07:41:00.009-05:00

My Best Recycling Moment

It's all about recycling now. And not buying things made in China. And buying local. I get that.

But beyond that, there is something so appealing to me, especially this time of year, in finding things that were made by hand long ago and have ended up in junk shops and garage sales, just a moment away from the landfill.

I love it when I find something like this and bring it home.

I feel like the person who made it and has probably passed on is up there giving me some extra points because I noticed the beauty in the thing they created.

My pine cone wreath is an example.

I found it this summer when The Entrepreneur and I were hopping garage sales in search of a cabinet to house Mr. Nice Guy's T.V. for his new apartment. We were batting zero and The Entrepreneur was doing what he usually does, which is making friends with the garage sale C.E.O. and they were talking about how the man was selling the house because his wife had died and he was tired of living in the big place alone.

Looking through the tools for an addition to my trowel collection, I glanced up and spotted a beautiful pine cone wreath with a $4 price sticker.

"The Missus made that one year with pine cones she found at our cabin," the man said.

"It's really beautiful," I said. "I'm going to take it home."

And so it hangs from the living room mirror this year. I added a few pine cones where some had fallen off and dressed it up with a satin bow.

When I look at it I think of a woman walking in the woods collecting pine cones. I think of her husband, alone at the end of his life and moving on to a new place with the hope of a new beginning.

And I'm very proud I recycled.

Something Fun

2008-11-17T07:57:00.009-05:00

I found this fun site where you can plug in a picture of yourself and it will tell you what celebrities you resemble. I was worried about my results, so I plugged in a picture of The Athlete.
I was very concerned to see Britney Spears in her results. I hope she doesn't ACT like her too!

I'm Feeling all Holiday

2008-11-16T07:34:00.006-05:00

Visions of Sugarplums

I'm not sure why, with my big pumpkin still sitting on the front porch from Halloween, but I'm getting all excited for the holidays.

Yesterday I stayed in bed all day with some horrible virus that I attribute to not getting my flu shot this year.

And even though my body was just laying there in misery, my mind was busy making plans for another Big Wonderful Christmas.

So today I'm going to bring my tissue with me down to the crawlspace and drag out the Christmas boxes and begin my decorating plans.

This year there will a party before Christmas to celebrate the Overachiever's graduation from college, and there will even be people to share the decorating with.

I know I have to shorten up my shopping list, but it will be hard to get me to cut back on my decorating.

Here on my blog I hope to share some great family recipes (please send me yours!) and traditions and give you some great economical gift ideas as well.

Out my window I see a few snowflakes coming down. Bring on the holidays!

Upcoming Pulitzer Prize Winner

2008-11-13T19:00:00.003-05:00

I'd Prefer Preschool

2008-11-12T07:00:00.009-05:00

My Dream Car. Mine. You Can't Have it!

I've been thinking lately that it would be really cool to be a preschooler. Here's why:

All of the preschoolers at the place where I work get to say exactly what is on their minds and no one gets mad at them for it.

Like the other day. Jacob shows up. Cute kid. Kind of a germaphobe. Uses WAY to much Purell. Anyway, I say: "Hi Jake. How are you today? Are you excited to be at school? And he says:

No. Not really. I'm tired and I really think I should go home and take a nap."

You know what? That made a lot of sense to me. I was tired too. And the heat in that place was broken, so I was also cold. I wanted to go home and crawl in my big bed under my covers and take a nap too.

But when my boss asked me how I was doing, I didn't say that. I lied. I said "Great! How are you?" Because that is the grown-up thing to say.

Later, Jillian grabbed the hot pink marker from Kate.

I said: "Jillian. Kate is using the pink marker. It is not polite to take things from other people."

And Jillian said: "Why not. Pink is my favorite color so I have to color my house with it!

I thought about how earlier in the week I talked to a friend who owned the car I have wanted ever since I drove around a different version in high school. That car was beautiful, but when I told my friend how much I loved it, she said: "I hate this car. It's too small and I wish I never would have bought it."

"Well then you don't deserve that car, give it to me!" Is what I wanted to say. That's what Jillian would have said.

But I just said: " That's too bad."

But this is my blog. And I am going to channel my preschooler and say that today I am irritated by the number of leaves on my lawn, the fact that my carpet steamer is broken and I can't get my hair to do what it is supposed to do. I don't want to keep cleaning out my crawlspace and I really hate the printer for messing up my order and charging me too much because now I have to drive over there to get my $13 back and that will probably cost me $2 in gas.

Wow. That was really cool.

Computer Maven

2008-11-09T17:26:00.010-05:00

The Entrepreneur likes to make fun of my slowly developing computer skills. He calls me a Computer Maven. He tends to be a bit sarcastic.

I'm really trying on this computer thing. I realize that I need to step up my computer knowledge in order to fit in with today's world. But I'm going to tell you something. I don't like computers. And I never will.

I don't like the fact that when I can't get the computer to do something it is supposed to be doing, like when my blog won't post even though I keep pushing the POST button, there is nothing I can do. I just have to keep pushing the button again and again and screaming "POST!" until at last the computer decides to upload my post. It is so aggravating!

Today I was working on my website for my Green Thumb Design business. Some guys in India made it for me because they screwed up The Entrepreneur's web site and they owed us some money. It has it's limitations.

I was supposed to be able to log in as the administrator and press the different catagory buttons and make changes. Then I was to press SAVE and then go back to the main page and press REFRESH. Only that wasn't working and so I just started banging on the keys a little bit and shouting "REFRESH!"

That didn't help.

If this were the old days, I wouldn't need the dumb website. People would have to call me on the TELEPHONE.

Then I could let them know if I was frustrated and they would maybe do something about it.

But who needs communication? After all, we have this beautiful new thing called Technology.

Duty Calls

2008-11-07T08:48:00.003-05:00

Today I am putting on My Garden Designer hat and assembling several plant baskets that have been ordered and delivering them all over what my dad used to call: "Hell's Half Acre."

But it's all good. I LOVE to create plant baskets.

And, in case you are a local reader, remember that The Green Thumb now has a plant hospital where we will care for the plant you tried to kill :) and bring it back to life!

Maybe while I'm driving around town I will dream up some new ideas to blog about next week.

So check back on Monday and enjoy your weekend!

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow Part Two

2008-11-06T08:54:00.011-05:00

My New Do

Yesterday I told the terrible story of burning my hair with a straightening iron and left you all hanging as to the final result.

After spending a couple of days at the salon with my hair caked with several different kinds of conditioner, it was determined that nothing could be done to improve the quality of the singed hair.

I sat in the chair while my stylist Annie tried to pull a comb through the burned and matted mess.

"Cut it," I said.

She got a bad look on her face.

"But your hair has never been short as long as I have known you," she said.

"Cut it," I said again, and all of the ladies in the salon held their breath.

It turned out O.K.

I miss my long hair a little bit, but it's nice to only need 10 minutes instead of 40 to style it every day. My friend Angela says it's sassy and The Entrepreneur says he wants me to keep it this way.

Chalk one up to Serendipity.

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow

2008-11-05T08:12:00.006-05:00

Looking Scary with my Fried Hair

Yes. That is a very scary picture. But this is a very scary story.

A couple of weeks ago I flew to Minnesota to see siblings four and eight and to spend some time with my adorable Godson.

I had left my straightening iron, which I often use to tame my curly hair, at home. I did this because my girls have all inherited the bad hair gene from me and the straightening iron is an important part of their everyday lives. I thought it would be mean to take it with me. I thought that one of the siblings, who both also have the bad hair gene, would be happy to share theirs with me.

And that act of kindness cost me dearly.

One day during my visit, Sibling Eight and her husband and son went to a baby shower.

While they were away, I decided it would be a perfect time to complete the hour-long task of straightening my hair.

I searched around until I found the straightening iron and plugged it in. I came back to the bathroom a few minutes later and grabbed a big chunk of hair from the top of my head and started pulling the iron through the curls.

Suddenly, I noticed a bad smell. Looking down at the iron, I saw several pieces of singed hair clinging to the hinge. Thinking they were just pieces that were left behind from the last time the iron was used, I grabbed another section of my hair, snapped the iron in place and began to pull.

And then I smelled the bad smell again. Leaning forward over the counter, I took a good look at the top of my head.

And then I let out a terrible yell.

Tune in tomorrow to find out if Five of Nine found a way to rescue her burned mane . . . . .

Vote!

2008-11-04T06:51:00.009-05:00

I am so excited to vote today because that means the Republican Party will quit calling my house every five minutes to remind me and I won't have to hear Sarah Palin's annoying voice telling me that "as a mom" she understands everything I am facing. Please.

Now that I am done with that rant, I should tell all the coffee drinkers that they can get a free cup of Joe today from Starbucks as a thank you for casting your vote.

Now a little something for the trivia buffs who might not know the origins of the Elephant and Donkey symbolism:

The now-famous Democratic donkey was first associated with Democrat Andrew Jackson's 1828 presidential campaign. His opponents called him a jackass (a donkey), and Jackson decided to use the image of the strong-willed animal on his campaign posters. Later, cartoonist Thomas Nast used the Democratic donkey in newspaper cartoons and made the symbol famous. Nast invented another famous symbol--the Republican elephant. In a cartoon that appeared in Harper's Weekly in 1874, Nast drew a donkey clothed in lion's skin, scaring away all the animals at the zoo. One of those animals, the elephant, was labeled "The Republican Vote." That's all it took for the elephant to become associated with the Republican Party. Democrats today say the donkey is smart and brave, while Republicans say the elephant is strong and dignified.

Inspired

2008-11-03T07:33:00.022-05:00

The Brainiac gets Equestrian

Yesterday we took a little drive to watch The Brainiac compete in a horse show. We have done this many times before. But this time I was the most proud I have ever been because The Brainiac has some new obstacles that make being in a barn an absolute misery, but she keeps on competing anyway, because it is something she has a passion for.

You see, we recently found out that The Horse-crazy Brainiac is allergic to grass. And because hay is basically just dried-up grass, a barn is just about the worst place on earth for her to be.

Her eyes get red. Her nose turns into a faucet. And then she starts to sneeze like crazy.

It wasn't always like this. Back when she started riding at age nine, she didn't show any symptoms. But over the years things have gotten gradually worse.

But she is not giving up. She shows up for her weekly lesson and comes home clutching her kleenex.

Yesterday I held my breath while she rode around the arena, paying attention to the perfect transitions from walk to trot to canter, knowing that while she was focusing on signaling the horse she was also doing everything in her power not to sneeze.

Finally came the time for the riders to ride to the center of the ring for the ribbon ceremony. I heard them call The Brainiac's name.

And then I heard the sneeze.

Matt is Having More Fun Than Me

2008-11-01T08:14:00.018-04:00

I love this video from a guy named Matt who found an awesome way to document his travels.

Back in Time

2008-10-31T12:08:00.005-04:00

Here's one of some of my siblings taken in 1963.

Thanks Mom!

2008-10-31T11:49:00.009-04:00

My mom emailed me this old photo of my brother Joe. Crafty mom made the pumpkin costume.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T06:22:00.052-04:00

From the top: The Brainiac and The Athlete dressed as Sarah Palin and a gangsta, My nephew The Prince in his lion costume and my Chiropractor's dog Bumbles dressed as a bumble bee.

Happy Halloween! Today I'm going to share some of my favorite Halloween photos. Please feel free to email me yours if you want them posted here. Then take the Halloween quiz I've posted to find out your Halloween I.Q.

Before pumpkins, Europeans originally carved...

	Turnips or rutabagas
	Green cabbage heads
	Watermelons
	Apples

In 2007, the top costume for children in the U.S. was...

	Spider-Man
	Witch
	Princess
	Bride
	The correct answers are: Ireland, Spirit Day, turnips and ruatabegas, Haddonfield, Ill. and princess.

TRADITION!

2008-10-29T17:04:00.012-04:00

These are the gravestones the Brainiac made with her dad when she was nine years old. They cut them out of wood and used a burning tool to write the messages, which I dreamed up.

Every year since then we make a little graveyard on either side of the walkway to the house to scare the trick-or-treaters.

Last year I had to ask a neighbor kid to put up the graveyard with me. The Athlete was too busy and The Brainiac was clearly not interested.

This year it was just The Entrepreneur out there with me, pounding the stakes into the ground and hanging the bats and cobwebs.

Part of me wanted to avoid the dangerous climb up the ladder to the crawl space over the garage where the tombstones live the rest of the year. But Halloween would feel kind of wrong without them.

That's how it is with traditions. Pretty soon you are doing them because it feels weird not to.

I have a little prediction that one day those tombstones will be like the cookie jar that my dad got his Oreos out of every night after dinner. They will be fought over by the very children who now think they are a little bit silly.

How smart that there are four of them. One for each kid to carry on the tradition.

I KNOW this will make you smile.

2008-10-29T09:34:00.011-04:00

See more funny videos and Funny Videos at Today's Big Thing.

My Bossy Horoscope

2008-10-29T05:07:00.006-04:00

Get your life in order today, dear Cancer. Take off the mask you have been wearing and look at yourself in the mirror. Make sure you like who you see. Today is a good day to put the frivolity aside and concentrate on what you need to get accomplished. Attend to your duties and plan wisely for the future. Store up your resources instead of squandering them all now.

I made the mistake of reading my horoscope (above) this morning. Just back from my mini-vacation and finally at the end of fall cleanups for my gardening business, I was actually considering loafing about this morning.

Now I've got my horoscope bossing me around, asking what I plan to accomplish.

O.K., O.K.

I'll:

Order the invitations for The Overachiever's graduation party
Wrap the Halloween gifts for The Athlete's gym buddies
Order the packaging for my Christmas candy
Call my Mom
Make my Christmas budget so I can break it
Clean the one kitchen cupboard that is supposed to set me on a path of eventually cleaning them all

Hopefully tomorrow my horoscope will tell me to take a nap.

A Little Something for the Cat Lovers

2008-10-28T17:12:00.013-04:00

See more funny videos and TBT Videos at Today's Big Thing.

I Want to be a Goal Getter

2008-10-28T06:59:00.015-04:00

I love this Goal list I found on the internet

Sibling Number Eight sent me a link to this funny post yesterday. It got me thinking.

Sure, the goals these boys had were silly ones, but they were goals anyway.

I have kind of a love/hate relationship with goals. Sometimes I don't like the process of getting them, like when I was training for my first 5K run this summer, but I do like having them.

This guy I knew once was a Goal Getter. He was fascinating to have dinner with. He had traveled all over, been a dealer in Vegas, a teacher, a writer and a chef. He had a personal anecdote for any topic that came up.

I think it would be fun to be one of those people.

I think one big goal a year is reasonable for a not-so-young mom with four kids and a business to run, so that's what I'm going to start with.

I also think this next goal should utilize my mind, since my body is still recovering from meeting the last one.

Any ideas? I'd love to get a sibling or reader to join me.

Let's get our Bucket List going.

My Mulligan

2008-10-27T07:32:00.025-04:00

The Prince and his favorite toy

My sister Anne, Sibling Number Four, has a new little boy in her life. He is the seven-year-old son of her boyfriend Joe. Her kids are grown and out, and now she is helping to raise another boy. She is a good sport about it though. She sees it as an opportunity to re-do all the mistakes she made as a young mother using all of her new wisdom.

She calls him her Mulligan.

This weekend I went to visit The Prince, my much adored nephew and the son of Sibling Number Eight.

She is a first time mother in her late 30's. And I have to say that so far I don't see any reason she will be needing a Mulligan. But I think I might be using The Prince for mine.

It's kind of tricky to pass on any parenting advice to this sister, because she has always been kind of the overachiever of the family and has researched many aspects of this parenting thing.

She has sticky placemats for the restaurant tables, Purell for the germs after Kindermusic, toys that sing "hello" in five languages and baby food that doesn't come from a jar.

I am happy to report, however, that this weekend I have added value to the life of The Prince by finding and purchasing the rattle eggs that he loves at Kindermusic, discovering that he won't cry during his diaper change if he has a sticker to play with and teaching him to say his first word (and making sure it was not "DOG" as his father requested).

His first word is his favorite toy in the whole world. It is what his dad plays with him every day when he comes home from work. I said that word to him 1000 times and signed it 100. And then he said it!

The Prince said "BALL!"

That beats the first word record of my daughter, The Overachiever, by one full month.

And that is an excellent Mulligan for me.

Visit Number Three

2008-10-22T17:42:00.013-04:00

This is The Prince. He is the adorable son of Sibling Number Eight. I am flying on a plane to visit him today as I promised I would try to do as often as I could when I agreed to be his Godmother. This time it has been almost four months since I have seen him and I know he has lots of new tricks to show me.

I am leaving my children and pets in the capable hands of The Entrepreneur, who will be lots more fun than I am and disregard the rule about sugar only once a day.

I may try to blog or I may just play with the Prince and the new boats I am bringing him for the bathtub.

Anyway. I know I will be having fun!

Feeling Sentimental

2008-10-22T07:21:00.012-04:00

I don't know if it's the fact that fall is waving goodbye this week, or maybe it is the Lobster Boy Video I watched that reminded me how fast Mr. Nice Guy changed from a little boy to a man, but I'm feeling all sentimental and sad.

There are so many goodbyes coming up.

The Brainiac is spending her last winter with us before she heads off to college.

The Overachiever has landed a job in the big world and is moving out with her two cats in December. I knew I would miss her but who knew I would miss those cats?

The Athlete has bid us a mental farewell, keeping most of her thoughts to herself and spending more time in her room the way that teenagers do.

A feeling of panic is setting in.

After I finishing closing down my gardening business this week, I think I need to spend a day or two with all the old videos and photo albums and remember that these are the quiet days I used to long for when I was completely responsible for the lives of four little people.

My plan is for it to make me feel accomplished as in: "Look at how nicely they all grew up!"

But who am I kidding. There will need to be Kleenex. I'm going to be a Sentimental wreck.

Our Soap Opera Life

2008-10-21T07:16:00.011-04:00

Forrest and Jenny

Here is the way your life gets more complicated as your kids grow up: They start to have Significant Others that they bring home for you to meet, and then suddenly you feel like you have eight kids instead of four.

But when it gets REALLY complicated is when your grown-up kid has a BIG LONG relationship with someone, and they start to come to all of your family functions, and you start to love them like they were your own kid and then your kid for some reason BREAKS UP with them and you don't get to see them any more.

I was thinking about this last night, because Mr. Nice Guy asked us out to dinner to meet his new girlfriend.

I really liked the new girlfriend. She is smart and pretty and has green eyes just like me and she told me a really funny story about a migrant worker working at her parent's orchard who is stalking her.

But I'm afraid to like her too much. Because maybe later I will have to go to the restaurant where she works to visit her like I do with Mr. Nice Guy's old girlfriend.

I know I have to keep my opinions to myself, but does Mr. Nice Guy know that any girl would be lucky to have him?

Does The Overachiever know that just because she found love early doesn't mean she won't find love again?

Does The Brainiac know that she has found her perfect match and should hang on with a tight grip?

And why can't The Athlete figure out that her best friend down the street with the beautiful blue eyes, who calls her his Jenny (Forrest Gump reference) is her soul mate and not the guy who broke up with her in a text message last week.

Hopefully, in the end, we will end up with the perfect cast.

Mr. Opinionated

2008-10-20T06:24:00.052-04:00

The Opinion Shirts

My hubby, The Entrepreneur, is becoming very opinionated. It started when he ditched his corporate job a couple of years ago.

All of the suits and shiny shoes in his closet began to get dusty, along with the classy crew-neck sweaters and Polo shirts I had gotten him for gifts.

And then something horrible happened. He started wearing T-shirts.

Not just ordinary T-shirts, the kind that advertise the little race you just ran in or with a subtle swoosh to advertise a sporting company, but shirts with messages, the kind of messages not everyone agrees with.

Getting ready to go watch The Athlete compete in a gymnastics meet, he might show up to breakfast wearing his shirt that says: Silly Liberal. Checks are for Workers, or his famous Hilary Scares Me shirt.

These two are always a sure bet to draw some looks and comments, since half of the population thinks they are great and the other hates them.

He always gets a lot of comments from the guys on his shirts that say I'm Kind of a Big Deal and I Bring Nothing to the Table.

He is very attached to his many O.J. Simpson shirts. They say things like:
Drink Apple Juice 'cuz O.J. Will Kill You

and

Liberals Love America Like O.J. Loved Nicole

Sometimes at a party I will look around the room at another guy and admire his nicely pressed white linen shirt. But then, over in the corner is The Entrepreneur, wearing his shirt that says: I'm Tired of Being My Wife's Eye Candy.

And I have to admit that funny trumps dashing for me.

Seems I'm Comfortlicious

2008-10-18T15:14:00.042-04:00

Send your child's art to See Jack Draw to make it even MORE amazing.

All week long I search about for contests for my readers to enter to win things. I do this because I found out that the most popular blogs are the ones about winning things and I am trying my best to increase the readership of my blog.

So, if you are like my husband, The Entrepreneur, who rolls his eyes at the give-away blogs, just come back on Monday and my blog will return to it's regular self.

But now it's time to give the Give-away Junkies what they want:

Take this short quiz if you want to know if you are Comfortlicious or Griptastic and also have a chance to win a cool spa package.

If you are a coffee-lover like I am, but sometimes have guilt over the cost of a Starbucks, enter here to win a Starbucks gift card (scroll to the Oct. 13 entry).

Because I LOVE flowers, I really hope I win Redbook's contest of the day for a $100 gift card to 1-800-flowers.com.

O.K. this one is not free, but it's great. What can you do with all of your kid's art? You can send it to this artist and she will frame a few pieces together for a lasting and beautiful piece.

So Long to the Deck Party

2008-10-16T11:43:00.013-04:00

Every Sunday all summer long we had a deck party.

Now I talk about the deck party a lot and people kind of look at me funny. They want to know what a deck party is.

A deck party is when you invite your friends over and you all sit on the deck and relax. Also you drink wine or pop if you so choose. Most of the grown-ups choose wine:)

You eat things with lots of calories like pistachio nuts or chips and salsa or maybe a dessert if you are lucky enough to have friends that make those (I AM!)

You can bring your kids if they can be trusted near the fire pit, where they are allowed to throw things in and watch them burn, which is big fun for any kid. Later they can make S'mores and sell them to hungry adults for a dollar if the marsmallows are cooked just right.

It is good to invite the same three or four couples to the deck party all summer, because there begins to be private jokes that only the people who attend frequently will understand.

You will make BIG PLANS at the deck party. You will make an elaborate plan to tour the Napa Valley with this group of friends. There will be a BIG DEBATE about whether or not to bring the kids along and whether to stay in a resort with seperate rooms or in a big house all together.

None of the debates will really matter, because you won't all go on that Napa trip due to lost jobs, kids schedules or college kids laying claim to your vacation funds, but it is fun to pretend.

Last weekend was our final deck party. It is too cold to sit out there now. But we'll be out there again the first weekend of June, building memories and making impossible plans.

Thanks for coming to the Madel deck party. We had a great time!

OrganiSPYzation

2008-10-15T06:49:00.042-04:00

The Athlete is having a bit of trouble staying organized. There are a lot of contributing factors to this problem: Massive amounts of homework required for eighth grade, 17 hours of practice a week for her sport, an active cell phone life and lastly, TOO MANY BAGS.

See, the problem with The Athlete is that she is not only a Jock, but also a Fashionista and therefore the backback she stores her books in each day must coordinate with her outfit.

But what happens the next day when she switches bags, is that sometimes important items get left behind in the previous bag, and that is how her copy of the book Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer, which she needed to complete a book report this weekend, went missing.

Since we were having some folks over for the weekly deck party and I was rushing around trying to make my house look way more clean and organized than it actually is, I was a bit aggravated by the loss of the book, since I had to stop what I was doing to help look for it.

At this time I began what I think is called a rant where I began with a louder and louder voice to preach on the benefits of being organized. To illustrate my point, I grabbed one of the Athlete's zillion bags from a hook in the back hall and dumped the contents on the newly cleaned kitchen floor.

Here is what fell out:

The lost book
A crushed Poptart
Three bracelets (one said HOPE, and I thought that was funny)
One giant brown hoop earring
A pink tank top
A label from a bottle of orange soda
A Chinese finger trap
A yellow goofy golf pencil
Guava Splash lip gloss
A plaid hair clip
74 cents

The Entrepreneur, who is nicer than I am, rushed her off to CVS to buy her some organizational tools and I ran around the house confiscating some of the book bags.

But there might not be much hope for the Athlete's disorganization problem. I took a look at my desk this morning. I think she comes by it naturally.

Shop Your Closet

2008-10-14T07:52:00.037-04:00

I want to take a second to tell you all about a great new business that my friends Susan and Betsy started called Shop Your Closet.

These girls are really passionate about dressing women and giving them the confidence that comes from looking fabulous (that is their favorite word).

And they are so qualified, with degrees in Art and Fashion Merchandising and more than 15 years of retail experience between them. Whether your style is Gucci or Gap, these girls can really whip a closet into shape. And that is just what they do.

For a fee of $65 an hour, they come to your house, tear through your closet and assemble outfits for you to wear for any occasion. They take photos of the assembled outfits and later provide you with a darling pink notebook with the photos inside that you can refer to when getting dressed for a special event or even just your everyday life.

I am really excited, because I won three hours of their services, and they are going to come over and help me get my winter look in order. Maybe there is hope for me to look FABULOUS!

If you want to look fabulous, you can contact Betsy and Susan through their website at www.shop-your-closet.com

Cutting Corners

2008-10-10T08:18:00.069-04:00

During

Before

The garden I am going to finish installing today is a perfect example of how you can cut a few corners in order to adjust to the horrible new economy and still get what you want.

At this house, the homeowner has hired one company to tear out the existing landscaping, one to install the lighting and sprinkler system and Little Old Me to design and install the plantings.

The house down the street has hired THE landscaping firm in town to install their new landscaping and I am really interested to compare the two when all is said and done. The Entrepreneur and I are guessing my guy will be saving at least $10,000 in the end.

Now there are some challenges with the system my homeowner is operating under. I have to coordinate things with the tear-out guy, who has hired some young guys I am a little bit scared to work around because I overheard them comparing jail stories and also because they were singing "I shot the Sheriff" with a little too much gusto.

But I did learn that if I bring them donuts they will plant my trees for me.

I also noticed that The Lighting Guy and The Tear-out guy are very close to puching each other out over how to backlight the house. Sometimes they smack each other on the back after these word wars, though, so I think it is all good.

Anyway, tomorrow I am going to blog about another way you can save some money and will be talking about a new business in town called Shop Your Closet.

But now I have to rush out to pick up the donuts for my tear-out boys before they start singing Devil Woman.

Winner Winner Chicken Dinner

2008-10-08T09:31:00.031-04:00

Win!

This week I had some terrible insomnia, but that's all good for my readers, since I was up in the night lost in Cyberland looking for some great contests for you to enter. I was careful to pick things I know my regular readers would like to win.
Here you go:

Great Bakers like my friend Wendy can enter to win an awesome orange cake stand to display your Halloween treats.

And any girl would love to win the prizes given away every day at 30 days of Beauty.
The prize here is always changing, but always fun, so put it on your favorites.

A couple of weeks ago I blogged about cloth grocery bags and promised to try to find some cute ones for you to carry. Well I did and you can get four of them for free by entering a contest posted on my friend Carol's blog. Once you hit the page, scroll down just a bit and you will see the contest for Shop Wise Bags. Just leave a comment about the bags on Carol's site for a chance to win. To check out all the great bags visit www.shopwise.com

Shutterfly is running a great coupon that you can use if you are the on-the-ball type who is already picking out Christmas cards. Just use the code HOLIDAY when placing your order to receive $10 off a $50 purchase. If you order 50 cards by October 29, you can get 25 more for free.

And free is always a good thing!

Practice Makes Perfect

2008-10-08T07:14:00.015-04:00

The Athlete had a assignment this week for eighth grade Language Arts (that's the fancy new name for English class) to find five phrases or slogans that represent valuable lessons she has learned about life.

I loved them all, and they really taught me a lot about her as a person. I got special permission to share my favorite. Here it is:

Here’s my day on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday: Wake up. Time for school! Drive to gymnastics. Do my homework from 2:30 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. at the gym. Start practicing gymnastics at 4:00 p.m. End at 8:00 p.m. Drive home. Get home at 8:15 p.m. Wake up… repeat.

Saturday: Wake up at 8:00 a.m. Get ready for practice. Leave for the gym. Get there at 9:00 a.m. End practice at 1:00 p.m. And somehow I love my life!

I have been doing gymnastics since I was three. Eleven years of gymnastics! I get better every year. I compete against more and more people. I do more and more skills. One skill in particular needs lots of practice. My bail. Every day on bars I work on this one. I have been doing it for about two years. The reason that I don’t mind continuing to do this skill almost every day of my life is because I get better every day. I practice and practice. One day, maybe it’ll be perfect. Like they say, “practice makes perfect.”

I think “practice makes perfect” is always a good thing to keep in mind because it helps get me through things. I always keep in mind that the more I practice things, whether it’s in school, sports, or any other activities, I will just get better and better! More people should keep this life lesson in mind and they will succeed in a lot of the things they do. They will get better and better.

Kid in a Candy Store

2008-10-07T07:03:00.028-04:00

All of the great times I remember from when I was a kid were times I was allowed to prowl around the neighborhood unsupervised.

I know that statement could open up a big debate involving people who think you should never take your eyes off of your kid and people who think the parents are ruining childhoods because of the paranoia caused by the media, but I am way to chicken to open that up for discussion here. (You can if you want to though. I have a place for comments).

I merely want to mention that I am sorry my kids missed out on a unique opportunity like going to Mosey's candy store with a quarter in their hand every Saturday morning.

When I go back home to Good Old Sioux Falls South Dakota and drive the distance to Mosey's, which is long gone now, I am a little bit surprised that my mom let us cross Minnesota Avenue, which was the busiest street in town, and walk through two or three unknown neighborhoods to get there.

Probably she was a little bit tired after spending the week doing 28 loads of laundry and dreaming up dinners that nine different children might like, and needed some alone time.

It was all good for me and my little sister, Kate (Six of Nine), because you could buy A LOT of candy with a quarter at Mosey's.

This time of year there would be Black Jacks and wax lips and fangs. Peanut butter candies in orange and black wrappers and orange Zots with their exciting exploding center.

Favorites we loved all year were Whistle Pops, candy necklaces, which could last a whole week and candy lipstick, which was used for playing dress-up when we got home. Necco Wafers were perfect for when I was helping Kate learn the proper way to stick out her tongue for first communion.

The other day I walked into a store with a display of all of this old fashioned candy. I decided to buy some for my Halloween trick-or-treaters.

Even if the kids don't appreciate it, the parents will.

Because you know they will be coming along.

Up, Up and Away

2008-10-06T07:13:00.005-04:00

Sometimes things happen in your life and you are like: "What the heck was the purpose of that?"

They are things that don't fit in with the little vision you had for your life and then you have to spend all of this effort readjusting.

I hate it when that happens.

But sometimes things turn out exactly how you always wished and hoped and then you really feel like God is on your side of the field shaking his giant pom poms.

One of those things happened to me recently.

The Overachiever got her Big Career Job Offer. And that's not even the best part. The best part is that she's not moving away.

She is going to be just a half-hour away, and I can go over to her trendy new apartment and bring her things and plant flowers in the pots on her patio.

Maybe she will meet a boy who thinks that Ohio is the most fabulous place on earth to live and they will live happily ever after and give me some cute grandkids to spoil rotten.

I have a really good feeling about this one.

Team Lisa is out in front!

Let's Go Shopping (for free stuff!)

2008-10-05T09:26:00.011-04:00

Some of you may have noticed that I skipped my shopping blog last Sunday.

Even though I am almost always in the mood for shopping, I had gotten a big bill from the doctor that I had to pay and I was feeling very poor and not in the shopping mood at all.

Turns out it costs $1,000 to find out that your kid is allergic to grass.

Anyway, you know how sometimes your mother and the pastor at your church will tell you that good things come out of adversity? Turns out that they were right this time, because I was messing around on the internet doing fake shopping (that's where you find things you want to buy but you just tag them under favorites and never actually purchase them) and I found this great new website that tells you how to get free stuff.

I am going to be getting free address labels, deodorant, Pledge Wipes and lastly, a free cloth grocery bag, which leads me to my second thing.

You may have noticed my little plastic bag counter at the top of the blog. I found this on the internet the other day after I looked out the window and saw it was raining and did my little victory dance around the kitchen because I didn't have to go to work.

Because my big family (the one I came from) are very crunchy granola and big fans of saving the environment, I am going to step up and do my part as well.

In the spirit of the mailbox (see Running post) I am going to start small by eliminating plastic bags from my life. This is going to mean being organized and always having cloth bags in my car to use. And that is going to be fun because I am going to be able to BUY them and that means SHOPPING!

But until I get over the shock of that doctor bill, I think I will just have a free one sent to me. Get yours and lets go green together!

Everyday Superhero

2008-10-03T07:52:00.013-04:00

Right now I am really frustrated.

The Brainiac just called to tell me that The Athlete left her giant tri-fold board that was to be used to assemble her science project in the back of her car.

There is big trouble for her from The Science Teacher if she shows up to class without that board.

My inclination is to throw on my Superhero Mom Cape and fly to the high school, remove the board from the littered back seat of The Brainiac's car and bring it swiftly to the middle school to hand over to The Athlete before science class begins.

But I can't do that because there is a new policy in place at the middle school that does not allow parents to help their kids out of a jam. Absolutely no materials may be brought to the school that have been forgotten by your middle-schooler.

In addition to having two hours of homework each night, they must now have perfect memories.

I don't think that The Middle School Policy Makers know that The Athlete was paired up with two underachievers who have done next to nothing for the project.

They don't know that she came home from a four-hour practice at 8:30 last night and re-wrote their portions of the assignment, which were filled with misinformation and bad spelling. Then she got out her big craft box and began cutting and pasting things to make the tri-fold board more appealing.

Before she went to bed, she set the big board by the back door so she wouldn't forget it.

Then she placed it in the back seat of her sister's car on the way to school.

She probably forgot to write BOARD on her hand so that she would remember it when she got out of the car (see My Traveling Post-it Note). And so she forgot it there.

Well you know what? Sometimes a Superhero has to be Clever in addition to being powerful.

So I am going to go over to the school at lunchtime carrying the big board under my arm and walk casually back and forth in front of the giant windows in front of the cafeteria until she sees me and rescue The Athlete from her dilemma.

I hope she is not embarrassed by my Superhero cape.

The Boss Lady

2008-10-01T19:43:00.014-04:00

Bill Lumburg

The whole idea behind this Start Your Own Business thing that I did a few years back was not to have a boss.

I mean, who really likes their boss anyway? All of the bosses in my life have always been, well, really bossy.

So when I started my Garden Design business, I was very happy to leave behind the world where I was an underling, guided only by the demands of someone who may or may not have been smarter than me.

But now something bad has happened. I had to get some people to help me with my business because it got too big and now I'm a boss.

I think I am really bad at it though. I am so afraid people will think I am the kind of bossy boss I used to hate that my ad in the newspaper for helpers read:

Gardeners needed for local landscaping company.
Great pay.
Nice boss.

I think everyone is looking for a nice boss, because about 200 people responded to that ad.

Now that I am a boss, I say things like: "get to it when you can," and "whatever you think looks nice."

I am noticing a confused look on the faces of my helpers like they are thinking:

"A little direction here would be nice."

So this week I gave the boss thing a try. I left a location where I was supposed to meet one of my helpers when she was 10 minutes late and made her find her way to the job on her own.

I even stopped by a job to check and make sure it was done properly and then made my helper go back and clean up a mess she had left behind.

But it hurt me to be so mean like that. It really did. I'm just not cut out to be the boss.

Please and Thank You

2008-10-01T07:06:00.013-04:00

Haley's Oatmeal Scotchies

You hear it all the time. You give a small child something and his mother or father says:

"Say Thank You."

From the time they first talk, we are teaching our kids to be polite.

We are so impressed by that child who gets out of our car and says: "Thanks for the ride" or leaves our house and says: "Thanks for having me."

But we wonder if our kids are really being polite when we're not around.

The other day The Brainiac came home with a big bag of groceries and went to work on some cookie bars to thank several of her teachers who had written her letters of recommendation for a scholarship she is in the running for.

I was a little amazed because it was not my idea.

Now I am not dissing The Brainiac. She has many good qualities. But even though I'm a big fan of random acts of kindness, they have never really been her thing.

And I had kind of gotten used to that, because when your child is almost an adult you have a little talk with yourself and you tell yourself that you did the best job you could and they are who they are. You tell yourself that it might be O.K. if they don't value some of the things that you value. You even admit that maybe your expectations were kind of high.

But I am here to tell you that sometimes you see a late change. Sometimes something happens when your child is almost out the door that will make you feel like they heard you all along.

Listen carefully. They might be saying Thank you.

Love Matters Most

2008-09-30T07:20:00.014-04:00

bleeding hearts

All of my kids are going through their day to day lives, diligently attending school and work and practice, and exciting things are happening to them.

They are graduating from college (The Overachiever) , receiving scholarships (The Brainiac), starting their own businesses (Mr. Nice Guy) and making Evil Knievil look like a wimp (The Athlete) and all they can think about is love.

The Brainiac and The Athlete are obsessed with a song by Taylor Swift that details the proposal of an 18-year-old boy to his high school sweetheart. I know they are imagining they are the girl and some nice fella is telling them he can't go on without them.

Mr. Nice Guy, who doesn't even like smoothies, is buying one every day at the smoothie bar near his house while trying to work up the courage to ask out the cute blond behind the counter.

The Overachiever, who is walking around with a broken heart because the guy in the song never got down on his knee, forges ahead looking for Mr. Right, but this time with a list of requirements that are so tough to meet that we have a flow chart of the guys who have tried and failed.

Here is that list. I found it on her Facebook page and got special permission to print it:

1. Hot and Sexy
2. College degree or a suitable job that pays the bills
3. Nice (rather than evil)
4. Does not drink and drive, risking the lives of small children on the road
5. No serious speech-language impairment (She's a little sensitive about this one, being a Speech Pathologist and all).

If any of requirements 1-5 are not met at any time within the relationship period, I reserve the right to terminate said relationship without question or recourse, and the "datee" (you're the "dater") shall immediately apologize and return to the dating abyss from which you obviously belong.

The Overachiever is proof.

The quest to find love can make you a little edgy if it takes too long.

Dancing To Her Own Tune

2008-09-28T07:56:00.012-04:00

The Brainiac and Frenchie

Last night at 5:45 p.m. the Brainiac, who was sitting at the computer in her sweats, with her hair in a ponytail, announced she was going to Homecoming.

She was going to meet her boyfriend and the rest of the group at 6:30 to pose for pictures of all the couples in their dresses and suits and wanted to know if I would help her with her hair.

That Brainiac. She drives me crazy.

The problem is that the Brainiac's boyfriend doesn't like dances. So they don't go to the dances, but every now and then to be nice he will put on a suit and attend the pre-dance dinner and the after-dance party so that she can have the dressing-up experience.

Last night he decided to take the hit.

But - not knowing that - the Entrepreneur and I had made dinner plans with another couple and we were leaving at 6 p.m.

That meant that I didn't get to see The Brainiac all dressed up with MAKEUP on or get to tag along to the house where the pictures were being taken to stand around with the other parents with that puffed-up feeling we all have that our daughter is the prettiest by far and certainly the smartest.

I really felt robbed.

To make me feel better, The Athlete popped her head out the door as I was leaving for dinner. She was wearing a pair of giant athletic shorts that once belonged to her brother and she had mashed potatoes on her chin.

"Don't worry mom. You can do the big dance thing with me for sure," She said.

I think I can wait for that one. I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to see The Athlete in heels.

What's In A Name?

2008-09-26T06:52:00.007-04:00

Do you like your name?

Yesterday The Brainiac asked me which of my kid's four names I like the best.

I told her. The Brainiac demands honesty.

But it got me thinking back to the agony involved in choosing all of my kid's names. I have kept the lists of all of the names I liked that I handed off to The Entrepreneur, who usually crossed off all of them.

He was opposed to any name that belonged to someone he knew in high school, someone he dated or someone he hated. That was a lot of names.

When choosing my kid's names, I tried to come up with something a little bit unusual but not weird. My goal was that there would never be a child with the same name in their first grade class.

It was tough picking those four names. I can't imagine placing more rules on the selection process, like requiring that all of their names begin with the same letter.

I'm sure you know families like this. And I'm not picking on families with three or less kids whose names begin with the same letter. It's possible that was an accident.

If there are four or more, you know it was on purpose.

When I was growing up in good old Sioux Falls South Dakota, we made a little game out of families like this. Who could say the names of the kids from oldest to youngest? Let's start with the Brick family. I can still do it.

Kevin, Karn, Kent, Kurt, Karen, Kathy, Konnie, Kaija

You just knew they ran out of options at the end. Kaija was my friend and she really hated her name. One time we looked up the meaning in a baby name book. It said: Fat Baby Seal.

O.K. now the Carlsons. That's an easy one.

Monique, Monty, Mia, Meagan and their darling dog Mindy

But the first letter stipulation isn't nearly as cruel as naming the child after something that has to do with your profession. Just because I am a garden designer, doesn't mean I have the right to name my girls Rose, Daisy and Petunia. And what would I have named my poor son? Thorn?

But that craziness happens. I went back home for a high school reunion. A guy I used to date and is now selling high-end cars was handing around pictures of his newborn baby Lexus. Her sisters Mercedes and Cadillac were so excited to meet her!

Phantom Liddy

2008-09-25T05:56:00.007-04:00

While I am off this morning giving the scary Power Point presentation I blogged about yesterday, my funny sister Elizabeth is stepping in as my guest blogger. I know you will all enjoy her crazy humor as much as my family does. Thanks Lizard!

Today I had surgery on a special little growth on my eyelid that had been affectionately named "Liddy."

It was way worse than I expected. Nurse Debbie informed me that the growth on my eyelid was like nothing she'd ever seen before, but Dr. Bircham would know what to do with it.

So as my boyfriend and I are giving each other eye exams, the Doc strolls in. He sits on his little stool, skooches up to me, and says, “lets have a lookie”. So I put my chin in the holder, look forward, yadda yadda yadda and Doc informs me that it is a viral infection; a paploma on my face. And the boyfriend, being the supportive man that he is, yells, you have HPV??

Next, the doctor leaves and returns with a chainsaw and some sterilizing supplies. A needle appears. He informs me that he will inject my eyelid with 'something'. But first, he gives me a drop in my eye to do a bit of numbing. I ask if it is so I don't feel anything when he misses my eyelid and stabs my eyeball. The boyfriend seems to think this is funny, but I do not.

We did a trial run of sticking my eyelid. I don't think it was supposed to be practice, but since I yanked my face away, we failed at the first attempt. The problem was, Doc wanted me to keep my eye open, but when someone approaches your eye with a needle, you can't help but blink. The second time the needle stuck, even though I "slammed my eyelid shut". And then the snipping began. It felt like someone was just gently tugging on my lashes. Just a little blood, and viola! Liddy's free!
The crazy thing is, I still feel her presence. She will always be a part of me. I miss her so....Phantom Liddy.

Love is a Power Point

2008-09-24T06:58:00.012-04:00

Today I am having a lot of anxiety, because tomorrow I have to get up in front of 25 business people and give a presentation.

I'll be talking about my Garden Design business to the other people in my business referral group. They are all really nice people, but tomorrow I will be very scared of all of them.

I will be scared that they will think I am unprofessional, uninformed, untrained and unattractive, even though I am going to be wearing my really pretty new green shirt that I saved for the occasion.

But one thing that I'm not worried about is that they will think I am unprepared because The Entrepreneur has been slaving away in his cave for a week now on the most beautiful Power Point Presentation I have ever seen.

All of the pictures I have been taking for years of the gardens that I care for and the containers I have created are in there, and he used Photo Shop to get rid of all the dead blossoms and scattered leaves.

All of the main points I have to make magically show up on top of the pictures after a moment to remind me what to say.

The only problem is, being techno-challenged in the way that I am, I'm afraid that this beautiful crib sheet will fail to function and then I will be left to stumble through 10 minutes on my own.

But The Entrepreneur has thought of everything. He is sending me to the meeting location today to "practice" on the equipment.

Flowers and candy are nice, but not just any man can give you the gift of a Beautiful Presentation.

My Traveling Post-it Note

2008-09-23T07:25:00.012-04:00

There is something I do that I'm a little bit ashamed of. I've tried to stop but I can't.

I write stuff on my hand.

Not just for fun, like those little people whose mouths open and shut, but important information that would be very bad to forget.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking: "Hey, idiot. That's what Post-it notes are for."

But here is the point I would like to make:

What if you lose the Post-it note?

If you write these little fatal-to-forget items on your hand, there is very little chance you will forget them.

Now some of you may be the types who have the Big Long List that you add to every day and then you get the deep satisfied feeling when you get to cross stuff off. Maybe you will admit that you write stuff on there that already got done just so you can see it crossed off.

If so, you have a bigger problem than someone like me who just writes on her hand.

The only trouble with writing on your hand, is that you have to make sure the message is legible.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote two letters on my hand to remind me of something. But then I forgot what they meant. All day long I looked at those two letters and they drove me crazy. They were kind of messy, but I thought they said: CC

What was that? Was I supposed to copy someone on an email? Write a thank you note to my friend Cecelia?

All day it drove me crazy. I stared at it for ten full minutes in the carpool line on Friday while I watched the kids pour out of the middle school. The Athlete came bouncing out to the car. When she sat down next to me, I noticed something written on her hand. It said:

Cupcakes

The mystery of the message was solved.

Thank goodness I trained that child in the art of the Traveling Post-it Note, or the gymnastics team would have missed out on her birthday treat.

A Goal is a Beautiful Thing

2008-09-22T06:49:00.005-04:00

I DID IT!

I ran my first official 5K, and I beat my best time by four minutes! While it is true that The Athlete, who did not train for the race at all and has never run three miles in her life beat me by one minute, I am used to being humiliated by her skills.

But now a weird thing has happened. I am having this let-down feeling. It was kind of fun to be on a quest. So while I am relieved that I made it to the goal I set, I am kind of sad the race is over.

It was a cool race. We started out in the middle of a big pack running through the area of town that I love the best, past the old library where I took the kids for story time, past the elementary schools the kids have attended and past the homes on my favorite street, where I dream of buying a little house that is easy to clean one day.

I was doing great for a while, waving at the kids who came out to their driveways to cheer us on, checking out the sites.

I thought I had run about two miles and was starting to get a little winded and crampy trying to keep up with The Athlete, who was taunting me by running just ahead.

And then I saw a big sign that said Mile Marker One.

I turned around and looked at The Entrepreneur with a questioning look. Surely there must be some mistake, I thought. There can't be two miles left. I will never make it.

It reminded me of the time I went in to deliver my first baby and I was in the worst kind of miserable pain and the nurse came in to check me because by the way I was yelling everyone thought I was all ready to go and then she announced that I was only dilated to four.

Then, to try to calm me down, The Entrepreneur grabbed some stupid chart with a picture of a cervix that had little rings illustrating the stages from zero to 10 and he said in his pretend calm voice while pointing to a very small ring:

"Honey. Here you are. You just have to get to where the 10 is and then it is all over."

During the second mile The Entrepreneur had to walk a bit due to a leg cramp and I left him behind. Yes I am ashamed about that but a goal is a goal. Thankfully, some of that mile was down-hill.

I became very alarmed during the third mile when a 10-year-old passed me up. I was very afraid to look behind, because I was convinced I would quit the race if I was going to finish last.

I passed a group of spectators toward the end of the race who were pointing at me with worried looks and talking about my labored breathing, but there was no stopping me because I had seen a beautiful thing: The finish line was just ahead.

Looking at my watch I knew that I had to make up some time. And so I pulled out my sprinting form from my high school track days and ran the last half block at full speed.

My official time: 30 minutes and 11 seconds.

Now that's the new time to beat.

Let's Go Shopping!

2008-09-21T09:03:00.006-04:00

The Entrepreneur is afraid of candles. Ever since our neighbor's house fire last year, he has forbidden candles from being burned in the house.

That's tough for a girl like me. I love my candles. I love the romantic little flicker and I love the way they make the house smell any way I want it to.

But I may have found a replacement for candles. It was tricky, and I have to use two items to get the full effect, but here they are:

First are Scentports Home Fragrance Diffusers from Bath and Body Works, a new product that is an improvement over Wallflowers, Scentports plug into an outlet and provide fragrance for four to six weeks.

There are several new yummy smells for fall including Pumpkin, Autumn Apple and Spiced Cider, in addition to 12 other fragrances. I am happy with The Perfect Autumn leaves, which will all the guests to my house have been loving for the past couple of days.

Normally priced at $12.50, they are on sale right now at two for $16.

With Thanksgiving and Christmas fast approaching, I will soon be missing the flicker of candles, but there is hope now that I have found Flameless Candles from Smith and Hawken . These are realistic (really) candles which are powered with an LED bulb.

They are reasonably priced from $12 for a set of votives to $30 for a large pillar candle.

There. Now The Entreprenuer is happy and so am I.

Smokey Has a Soul Mate

2008-09-19T08:26:00.010-04:00

My cat is in love. She found another cat who loves her company. He was a little scary at first, but she has learned not to judge him for that.

He has a lot of other good qualities that the other cats in the house don't have. He doesn't use her litter box or hiss at her. He never comes near her food bowl and doesn't make any sudden movements.

Smokey will be very sad when The Graveyard Cat goes outside to sit near the tombstones we put out to scare the Halloween trick-or-treaters.

But until then, she is happy to sit quietly next to him, basking in the quiet glow of plastic love.

IN OTHER EXCITING NEWS . . . . . .

I did it!!!!! I ran 5K again and this time I did it in 34 minutes. My free running trainer Wendy says I get to take today off and tonight I get to "carb load," which is to eat pasta without guilt.

My neck is bothering me and my feet hurt but I am going to run in The Chili Challenge tomorrow anyway because I made the goal and now I am going to see it through. And afterwards I am going to reward myself with a great big bowl of chili and probably a slice of some kind of delicious dessert.

Thanks to all of you who encouraged me along the way! I'll let you know if the Madel Family makes it over the finish line.

The Gift of a Memory

2008-09-18T06:41:00.013-04:00

I love how sometimes a familiar smell or the sight of a random object will bring back a long-held memory that plays out with exquisite familiarity.

This week the sight of Chinese Lanterns brought a special memory back to me.

I was at the craft store looking for something fallish to put in a big vase that sits on the mantle in the family room. I had found some great twisty branches that had fallen from a willow tree during a storm earlier in the week and I needed to add something for color to bring the whole look together.

I walked through the aisles of silk and dried flowers and had almost given up when I saw two long stems of Chinese Lanterns.

They are a perennial plant that is a bit rare. They bloom with beautiful orange lantern-shaped hollow pods this time of year. If you look, you can sometimes see them growing along the roadside in the midst of Pussy Willows and high fall grasses.

I pulled the two remaining stems from the display to take to the register and a memory came back to me that played out like a little movie in my head.

My son was five. He rode the bus home from school at lunch time every day.

His sister and I would watch from the front windows for him to return. He was a different little boy. A big nature lover. He liked to play alone in the fields near our house. Friends could come along, but he didn't really play with them as much as with the frogs and snakes he would find and bring home like trophies.

One day he came off the bus and told me about some flowers he had been seeing in the ditch along the road on the bus ride to and from school. He said he had been "watching" them all week to remember where they were so that he could take me there to show them to me. He was sure I would love them and want to bring some home.

This was the day he was sure he knew how to find them and he insisted we get in the car right then and drive to where they were. Curious, but a little annoyed that he wouldn't wait until after lunch, I buckled his sister in her booster seat and the three of us set off on our search.

About half-way to school he pointed excitedly to an embankment on the right side of the road where a stand of bright orange flowers stood out among the grasses and thistles.

"Pawk the caw!" he yelled. Thewe they awe mom! Aun't they pwetty?

And they were. They were really beautiful.

We cut a bunch and took them home. I saved some seeds and planted them but they never took.

I think they meant to stay on that roadside, shocking in their unfamiliarity, for another special little boy to notice one day on his way home from school.

Waiting For My Second Wind

2008-09-17T06:34:00.007-04:00

Some of you may have noticed that the time posted next to my 5K results has not changed in over a week. It's not because I haven't been running. It's because I haven't been able to run the whole three miles again without stopping.

I think the only reason I was able to do it once was because I was running with The Overachiever and trying to be some kind of role model or something.

Please stop laughing if you are one of those people who think three miles is a little warm-up run. Because I have to tell you that three miles feels like 30 to me.

And don't tell me that if I keep running I am going to get my "second wind." I'm pretty sure someone made that up just to keep running hacks like me from quitting altogether.

How am I going my second wind when I haven't even found my first one yet? And how am I going to run three miles in an official race on Saturday in front of lots of people I know when I can't even do it by myself in my very own neighborhood?

At this point, I'm hoping the shame The Athlete and The Overachiever will feel if I don't finish might propel me toward the finish line.

I'm going to go out and give it another shot today.

Who knows, maybe I'll get my second wind.

The Game of Life

2008-09-16T07:23:00.003-04:00

Recently I took a trip to the beautiful state of Colorado to visit siblings three, six, seven and nine. I stayed at the home of sibling six with her husband and two girls. One of her girls is at the age where kids like to get rid of the aggression they feel towards the bossy adults in their lives by beating the crap out them at board games.

And so we all played the Game of Life.

After struggling to remember the rules a bit, I soon recalled that the Game of Life is much like real life, where most of your success depends on the cards you draw, but some of it can be tracked to good choices.

And that’s why my niece can usually kick my butt at this game. Her mom gives her choices.

For example: She was driving her little Game of Life car around the board and she stopped to get married. This is the part of the game where a girl adds a blue peg to the car to symbolize her husband.
Or so I thought.

I was reaching for the blue peg to put next to her pink one in the front seat of the car and my sister kind of stopped my hand mid-motion and looked at her kid very casually and said:

“Honey. What color peg do you choose?”

I was very confused and said: “What do you mean?” I thought there was some new rule that had developed in the last couple of decades.

“Well,” said my niece. “We believe in choices. And so now I have a choice whether to be homosexual or heterosexual.” Today I think I am going to choose . . . . to marry a woman.”
And she popped a pink peg into the front seat.

When I landed on the marriage square, the pressure was on. I got the eye roll from my niece after choosing the blue peg (“boring,” she said), but defended my choice by saying I wanted children.

“You can ADOPT,” she smartly retorted.

I won that Game of Life, in the end, and she pouted a bit about that. But I think she is going to be a big winner in the real game of life because that kid has something that I never had enough of.
That kid has CHOICES!!!

My Favorite Send-off

2008-09-15T07:13:00.011-04:00

There is quite a hub-bub in our town right now about an obituary written for a lady named Ruth Rencevicz. Ruth was a funny 81-year-old woman who died on Sept. 7 with specific instructions to her family to "keep it light" when it came to the business of her obituary.

Attempting to follow her wishes, her six children got together to collaborate on this tongue-in-cheek tribute to a mother who had spent her life making them laugh. If you log on to www.ohio.com and read Ruth's 16 guestbook pages, you will see that I wasn't the only one who loved this obit. Even Jack Black has left a comment.

RUTH E. (SECHRIST) RENCEVICZ Ruth E. Rencevicz (Sechrist) Ruth E. Rencevicz, born Ruth Elizabeth Sechrist on August 28, 1927, passed away on September 7, 2008 due to complications resulting from her children making her old before her time. (Ruth had a playful and irreverent outlook towards life, an attitude that she was fortunate enough to retain right up until the time of her death. This obituary is being written with that philosophy in mind. If you find this particular viewpoint offensive, then read no further. Instead, please take comfort in knowing that Ruth fought her leukemia courageously right up until the very end, and that she died peacefully in her sleep.)

Ruth passed away amongst the rich and famous in Greenwich, Conn. She is survived by brother, Clyde; sons, Wade, Bernard, Phil and Jon; daughters, Lisa and Sonya; grandchildren, Trevor, Grace, Casey and Sammy; an illegitimate child conceived when the circus was in town named Greg "The Donkey" King; her favorite dog, Lucy; and her favorite cat, Derrick.

Over the years, in addition to her regular jobs as a full-time mom and a switchboard operator at both Sears and BFG Federal Credit Union, Ruth also served her country as a covert spy for the Central Intelligence Agency, where during the Cold War she was largely responsible for the breakup of the Soviet Union near the end of the 20th century. At least, that's the way she told it.

Ruth was also very active as a volunteer with youth in her community in Tallmadge, Ohio, where she was known to selflessly give of her time by standing on her balcony yelling at kids for "playing that rap music" at all hours of the day and night. She also served as a mentor to young people by throwing rocks at teenagers dressed in loose baggy pants with their underwear exposed. She winged a couple of 'em pretty good, from what we understand.

Although born in Hammondsville, Ohio, Ruth enjoyed summering in Greenwich, Conn., where she loved drinking Fresca with Absolut Ruby Red vodka, and stalking Peter Jennings and Jack Black. Ruth reported being abducted by aliens several times during her life, and we don't mean the good kind of aliens who come from outer space. We're talking about illegal immigrant aliens from Mexico and West Virginia. Oddly, Ruth never really complained much about these kidnappings.

Ruth was adamant that people use the occasion of her passing to remember and celebrate her life. In lieu of formal funeral proceedings or viewing hours, she requested that those who remember and cared about her share both a special memory and a drink in her honor. Preferably Bud Light Lime, or if that's not available, gasoline or floor wax.

Published in the Akron Beacon Journal on 9/10/2008

Cheers to you and your funny family, Ruthie. Thanks for the gift of a laugh.

Let's Go Shopping

2008-09-14T11:17:00.019-04:00

Can a pair of pants make you more attractive? I say Yes! if they are the new Perfect Trouser Pant from Gap. http://www.gap.com/ I purchased a pair last week after going to my closet to grab a pair of slacks for an important meeting and realizing that something very strange had happened to my hips since I wore my dress slacks last winter. This new problem has made it impossible for me to look good in the several pairs of petite slacks hanging in my closet. Turns out I am not petite at all. Just short.

Lucky for me that Gap carries ankle-length pants, which is just a nice way of saying pants-for-curvy-vertically-challenged-girls.

Anyway, the drape of these pants is so pretty, and they have a beautiful cuff (I love cuffs) and they were worth every penny because they make me feel cute.

I found myself at Wal-Mart yesterday because I am at last awarding the $10 gift card from my Most Useful New Item contest to my Aunt Mary. Sorry that took so long.
I’ve been feeling a little bit unorganized lately due to what my mom calls my Flight of Ideas.

This is the problem I have of jumping from one topic to the next in conversation and in life. Probably some medication would help, but I chose instead to purchase some beautiful notebooks and folders I found at Wal-Mart. Here is a picture I took of them:

I am going to put all of my garden design ideas and information in the flowered notebooks and folder and all of my blog ideas and information into the striped notebooks and folders. The little notebooks are for my purse and the big ones are for my desk.

I feel even better about my notebooks because I found out that they are a special collection from Carolina Pad and Paper called the Kendall Kollection www.ucreate.com/kendallkollection.html This collection was started by one of the designers from the company who knew a little girl named Kendall who was battling leukemia.

Clay Presley, the CEO of the company, agreed to make a special collection dedicated to raising funds to fight the disease in honor of this little girl, and the Kendall Kollection was born. A portion of the sale price of each paper product sold in this collection now benefits the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society http://www.lls.org/

There. Altrustic Shopping. Now that should help assuage the guilt.

Living the Vows

2008-09-12T06:43:00.008-04:00

Something really great happened yesterday.
The Entrepreneur got his first big order.

Just over two years ago, he walked away from his job in the Big Business World to start his own business. He was tired of planes and hotels. He was tired of firing nice people that the corporate world had decided were "dead weight." He wanted to do something positive. To make jobs instead of taking them away. He wanted to sponsor a Little League team.

Well, it has been a long haul. Not only for The Entrepreneur, but for myself. After years of seeing him on the fly, I had to sacrifice my space to him. He set up shop in the room off the kitchen and began working from home.

The kids loved it. He was making them breakfast, driving them to school, fixing their cars and helping them with their homework. Before it was too late, he got to spend quality time with them, something that was stolen from him in his years of Working for the Man.

For me it was tough. After years of raising my kids mostly solo, it had become my identity. I struggled with finding a new niche and with the financial uncertainty that I had not had ever had to face.

Sometimes I wondered if starting the business was a big mistake. I didn't feel as secure as in the days when someone else was signing our paychecks.

But The Entreprenuer was different. More relaxed and happy. He was in charge of his own future, and that was how he always had wanted it.

Looking back, I wish I had had more faith. Sometimes I was really supportive, but sometimes I wasn't. And I feel badly about that.

This first success has given me hope for the future and I want to go forward believing that we can do it and that in the end our family will be better for making it through.

We've met four of the vows we made when we tied the knot.

We're more than half way there.

The Terrible Threes

2008-09-10T20:15:00.006-04:00

I recently took a little part-time job at a day care facility to supplement my income during the slow-down time for my garden design business.

I had no qualms about this job. Just a few afternoons a week watching kids while their moms work out at a fitness center. Beautiful building. Clean. Lots and lots of great toys to keep the kids busy.
Piece of cake.

That's what I thought the first day, until two three-year-old girls walked in the door.

There are just two words for three-year-olds:

High Maintenance.

One little girl was obsessed with snack time, which we were not having during her stay there. The big kids on the other side of the wall were having snack, though, and that did not go over big.

"Do you think we will be having snack?" she asked.

"Not today," I said.

She begins to color.

"I'm feeling a little bit hungry," she says.

"Your mom will be back in just a little bit and then I bet she will get you a snack," I say.

"Sometimes for snack I have graham crackers," she says.

We set up the Candyland Game.

"Do you have any candy in your purse? she asks.

NOOOO! (Just kidding. I didn't really say that.)

The other little girl was the intellectual type.

"What's this? she says, pointing to a mystery piece of artificial fruit.

'A beet?" I guess.

"No. That is an eggplant," she states, giving me the "you are a dummy" stare.

We dump out a puzzle with pictures of animals to teach the alphabet. She discovers a hangnail on one of her fingers and becomes very bothered.

"Let me see," I say.

"DON'T PULL IT!!!!" she screams at the top of her lungs.

I check my watch. A half hour has gone by. A screaming baby comes through the door.
"I'll take him," I say, a little too enthusiastically. I mean, he can't be more work than those three-year-olds.

Build a Smarter Kid

2008-09-10T07:35:00.009-04:00

Our high school holds an information session every year at this time on the procedures involved in getting your kid into college. Since this is a very competitive high school, much time is spent on the tricks involved in getting your kid into a great college.

I noticed that not much time is spent teaching you how to afford college, but that is another blog, I guess.

Anyway, it seems like a lot more focus is put on test scores for the college entrance exams and essays written for the application process than the good old GPA.

A friend of mine, whose daughter graduated with a 4.0 and got a really great score on her first try at the SAT, was only offered a full scholarship to her college of choice after her parents hired a private tutor to help raise the scores on certain sections of the test, particularly the reading portion.

This section of the test is the one many high school students struggle with.

What helps significantly is if your child likes to read, because reading is a natural vocabulary builder.

The reading section of the test was a natural for The Brainiac, since she has a book attached to her at all times.

I don't think we will have this same luck with The Athlete, who thinks "alone time" is spending the afternoon with two friends instead of four.

She was very surprised to learn the other day that her middle school yearbook did not qualify as a response to the Teacher's question of:

"What was the last book you read?"

With her I have to be very clever and trick her into being smarter using things that inspire her, like competitions.

I was lucky to find the web site www.freerice.com

This site "pays" you in grains of rice for every word you get right and increases your level of skill as you go. It is a sponsored site, and the money raised goes to disadvantaged countries.

I also have an SAT practice question sent to me every day by The College Board. Go to www.collegeboard.com and you can too.

Another clever way I have of teaching The Athlete new words is to use words I found in my new book 100 Words Every High School Freshman Should Know. (You can order it from Amazon by using my shopping link at right of this page).

For example: In response to The Athlete's question of "Can I sleep over at Maddie's?" I might say:

It may be a formidable task for me drive the half hour to her house. I'm not feeling very enthusiastic or jovial about it.

The which she might reply: "So can you drive me or not?"

Anyway, those are some tools to help you build a smarter kid and cheat legitimately on those wretched college entrance exams.

Remember: A scholarship is a beautiful thing.

Express Yourself!

2008-09-09T08:00:00.006-04:00

I’m not a fan of the bumper sticker. I think it goes back to an incident from my childhood. We were leaving church at good Old St. Marys in Sioux Falls, S.D. and were all walking out to the giant VW van that we used to hold our giant family.

My dad came around the back of the van to open the sliding door and blew a gasket when he saw the bumper sticker my older brother had placed on the back of the Van. It said:

HONK IF YOU’RE HORNY.

Needless to say, that was not a pleasant ride home from church.

But now I’ve found something to stick on my car that gives it some personality but yet is very easy to remove and also non-offensive. I found Sticars. http://www.sticars.com/

They are these tricky magnetic designs that you just stick on your car to give it some pizazz.

Naturally, because I am a Garden Designer, I have chosen a flower for my car, but there are many designs for you to chose from. I think Sibling Nine needs a peace sign and Sibling Three needs a smiley face. My mom definitely needs a bird.

Here is a picture of my gardening truck decorated with my new Sticar. I am going to get lots more because they make me smile. If you get one, send me a picture of your car so I can post it on my blog.

Driving Etiquette

2008-09-08T08:40:00.016-04:00

There is this corner by my house. Very treacherous. Lots of crosses and plastic flowers here and there along the roadside to indicate death due to traffic accident.

There is no stoplight at this intersection. I have to transverse it almost every day when I am driving The Athlete to practice.

I get to this intersection and I wait to turn left. Always a left. But the Bozo across the street from me, coming to the end of his scenic view out of the valley, is always in a Feel Good mood and wants to let me go first, even though he has the right of way.

So he does this: He flashes his lights at me.
The problem with this kind gesture is that there is usually a car coming from the right at 45 miles per hour just 40 feet away. And then the car who was being "courteous" by letting me go gets mad when I don't risk my life and try to turn left really quickly and dangerously.

Like I am going to kill The Athlete before she pays me back for my years of dedication driving her to and from to practice and far-away competitions with a college scholarship.

And while on this subject of driving etiquette, we need to talk about The Wave.

The Wave is the method of thanking someone for letting you into traffic. There are many different types of waves. The five-second consistent wave, the hand-up hand-down wave, the circular swiping wave and the sincere placing of the palm on the window for a moment wave.

I prefer the last one. I am the only one I know who uses that wave. The Entrepreneur thinks it is cheesy. But then, he does the Side-to-side vigorous wave. And that is just too extreme.

Whatever wave you use, at least employ one. Not waving in response to a traffic courtesy is just rude, even when the favor involves risking your life.

Let's Go Shopping!

2008-09-07T07:19:00.012-04:00

The Athlete's trio of singing waiters at The Cheesecake Factory

Today is The Athlete's birthday. She is 14 years old. Boo hoo. The last one and she is growing up too fast. A boy she likes, but doesn't "like like" is bringing her breakfast in bed. Must be rough.

After that, we are going shopping to spend some of the birthday money from the Grandmas. The Birthday Girl will not be happy when I remind her that one third goes into the savings account.

Since we are shopping today, I thought it would be a good time to recommend some on-line sites that people have been telling me about.

Sibling Number Eight, who is the mother of my very handsome Godson, is having a trunk show for a new designer of children's accessories. You can check out the merchandise at http://itsallretrobaby.com/

Another favorite site of the new mothers in our family is http://www.coolmompicks.com/
Not just stuff for kids, but great stuff for moms too.

If you are the organized type, who gets their Christmas cards ordered ahead of time, check out http://www.goodgravydesigns.com/
It is the perfect shopping experience for me. Not too many choices to confuse me and a discount coupon (if you order by Oct. 4).

Happy shopping. Don't forget to save one third for your savings account!

The Fridays

2008-09-05T09:04:00.005-04:00

I've got a case of The Fridays. Do you get those? It's when you get so excited about being close to the weekend that you pretend it isn't really a work day.

The other days of the week I am on task and I really focus on having a theme for my morning blog because my mom said she hates blogs like this one that are about nothing.

I wonder if my mom ever gets The Fridays?

Anyway, today I am in a good mood because the weekend is coming and I ran two-and-a-half miles today. I have no idea how many mailboxes that is because I ran all the way out to the new entrance to the development where there aren't any homes yet. The Entrepreneur and The Overachiever ran with me. Well, really I should say they ran on ahead of me. I didn't think that was very nice.

Anyway, I almost died, even though I had on my cool new tennis shoes that my sister Jen is opposed to because of the pink swish (not cool according to her). These shoes are so supreme! They have these little bubbles on the bottom for extra bounce. They make me feel like a running Superhero, even though I clearly am not.

So on with my Friday, which I plan to loaf through a bit. Enjoy yours and don't work too hard. The weekend is coming!

2008-09-04T19:16:00.001-04:00

America's Got Talent

2008-09-04T01:48:00.010-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about Talent

That's probably because I have been watching that crazy T.V. show America's Got Talent.

But you know what? America does.
America also has a lot of people who sadly do not have talent but think and wish that they do.

Because throughout your life, parents and teachers and people you listen to are always telling you this lie: "Everyone has a talent."

And that's just not true. And if you don't believe me, you can watch the show.

There are two kinds of acts on America's Got Talent: Acts where people have developed a skill to the point where the person or group can get up on stage and do their little dance or juggling gig and be mildly entertaining.

And acts where you are pressing the rewind key over and over again on your Tivo because you can't believe what you have just seen or heard.

Last night I was very touched because a couple of brothers from Queens with an act called "Nothin' but Strings" got up and played their violins. I had a little tear in my eye listening to them and I didn't even feel stupid because so did judge Sharon Osbourne.

What really moved me was the story about how their mother had struggled to pay for their lessons when they were growing up in the projects by working two jobs because she believed in their talent.

Because it is really the rare case when a raw talent can make someone a living doing what they love. Most of the time it takes a mentor or a parent to recognize and nurture that talent and to sacrifice time and money and sometimes their own personal goals to make sure that talent reaches it's full potential.

And here is the sad truth that a parent has to face sometimes: Maybe your kid doesn't have a talent. Maybe they are just a really nice kid who gets good grades and likes to play soccer.

Maybe you are sad because you know looking at the art work they bring home from school or reading their poetry that maybe they don't really have a talent.

Don't sweat that. I think God throws that pixie dust on very few.

But if you are lucky to have had some land on your child, or if it landed on you and you haven't used that talent, you have a job ahead of you.

Don't waste that talent. America is watching.

A for Attitude

2008-09-03T06:03:00.020-04:00

I met a girl I like.

No. Despite the words to the new popular song, it's not what you are thinking. I just met a grown-up girl who is not one of my six sisters that I admire. And that is a big deal. Because I have some pretty high standards for my friends.

Usually it will be over for a friend before she gets a chance. If she is married and her husband is really annoying, or flirts with me in front of her, that is the kiss of death. Then there are some other things I can't tolerate. She can't:

Talk too fast
Talk too loud
Talk about nothing
Talk only about shopping
Talk only about herself
Eat too much
Eat too little
Talk on the phone while eating
Care too much about what she eats
Play too much tennis
Have a really dirty car or house
Have an impeccably clean car or house
Think her kids are perfect
Say mean things about other people that she is supposed to be friends with
Say the F-word

O.K. I know that's a long list. but I'm getting older and life is getting too short to spend with people who annoy me.

Anyway, the best thing about this new friend is that she is HONEST. It is extremely hard to find those people any more. With other people I know, you have to dissect each sentence in search of the truth.

If their husband lost his job because of the crappy economy, he is "tired of working for the man." If they want to sell their big house and use the money to send their kids to college or pay off old debt they "just want to simplify." If one of their kids can't hold a job, he is "finding himself," and if he gets a large new swastika tattoo and a tongue piercing he is "expressing himself."

It would be so refreshing if these people would say: "Wow. This sucks. I feel like we are going backward instead of forward, and to add to my stress my kid has gone off the deep end."

I think I would give that honest person a big hug.

This new friend of mine is like that. She just tells it like it is. But the great thing about her is that she looks her life straight in the eye and then she finds a way to be positive and funny about it. Not in denial about reality, but accepting of it.

Watching her operate is like going to attitude school. And I'm hoping to raise my grade a bit.

5-K or Bust

2008-09-02T06:18:00.019-04:00

Some of you have been following my mailbox progression (see Running in past blog entries) and are wanting to know how I jumped from 60 to 84 mailboxes in less than a week.

The answer is that there is a 5-K race to support the Make a Wish foundation coming up on September 20, and The Entrepreneur, who has always had much larger goals than me, has signed me up.

Not only that, but he has created a "team" for the event, consisting of himself, our daughters The Athlete and The Overachiever and two new friends from down the street who run marathons. The woman on this team announced at our deck party last night that she had "run 18" earlier in the day.

"That wouldn't be 18 mailboxes, would it?" I asked.

Now this gets a bit tricky, since I am only up to 84 mailboxes, which is just two miles according to my recent calculations. A 5-K race is just over three miles.

So now I really need to get my butt in gear and also buy some cute running clothes to distract the onlookers from the fact that I am walking the last mile of the race.

Two Cents

2008-09-01T09:03:00.003-04:00

I last blogged about homework. Finally a hot topic that people will argue about! Below are some of the comments that appeared on my blog and on my Family Web Site. I'm disguising the names a little bit, because not everyone is comfortable with their opinions being thrown into the blogosphere. As usual with my family, there is no middle ground. One of the siblings writes:

"What are (school-aged children) no longer doing, being exposed to, experiencing, learning because the precious few hours they have available to them in their lives are being consumed addressing learning that should be accomplished in "school."

Her sentiments are echoed by one of my blog readers who (believe it or not) is not a member of my family.

He writes:

"Homework is the system's way of reminding you that they are the ones pulling the strings."

And there was also from another reader:

"Homework is poison to peaceful home life."

But the rest of the crew seemed to think that homework is reasonable but would like to see it saved for the middle school and high school years. As a response to a reader who thought most of what is learned in school is never used in "real life," another had this to say:

"I'll grant you that I don't need to know how to prove geometry theorems, but the basics of algebra, geometry, science and English grammar are still pretty handy to have in your tool kit."

Others pointed out that homework is a tool that teaches time management. One reader opened my eyes to a valuable point about homework in opposition to other activities that are chosen by the individual.

She said:

"I think (homework) is also to learn time management from things we don't really want to do (homework, work) and things we do want to do (friends, hobbies, sports)."

So there you go. If you have a comment about homework or anything else I am blogging about that you would like others to read, you can leave it in the comments section of this site.

Have a happy holiday. I am going to have hot fudge cake for dessert tonight and that makes me VERY happy!!!!

Homework Revision

2008-08-29T06:42:00.011-04:00

I forgot something about Back to School. I forgot how much I hate homework. That is really sad, too, because I am not even the one doing it. I just have to help a little bit.

My kids are doing it. They are doing LOTS of it. And they don't even have the good sense to complain.

This is an area where they could get plenty of sympathy from me. I think it is ridiculous to expect a kid to wake up before six a.m., endure a loud and crowded bus ride, spend eight hours at school, log in a few hours at a sport or a part-time job, and then roll on home around 8 p.m. for a couple more hours of homework.

Last night from 8-10 p.m., my middle schooler was writing a two-page essay (typed in Times New Roman and double-spaced please) comparing herself to "two or three" Olympic athletes she had never heard of. She had to choose from a list of 30 athletes who have overcome special obstacles and compare herself to them as it relates to her eighth grade school year. Since she had no idea who any of them were, or what they had overcome, she had to look them all up on the internet and then choose a couple she could relate to.

Huh?

O.K. Let's re-do that assignment so that makes a little more sense.

First of all. Hand write the assignment. That way you can work on it in the car on the way to and from your sporting activity. You won't have to fight over the computer later with your sister, who is studying for a college test with an on-line study guide.

Writing the assignment in long hand would be a great opportunity to work on your handwriting and spelling skills, both of which have been ruined by the invention of the word processor and spell check.

Now. Let's limit ourselves to one athlete. The goal is to organize our thoughts. I don't see how complicating the theme is going to help.

And finally, go ahead and pick an athlete from the current Olympic games. Plenty of them have overcome obstacles that you might actually be able to relate to.

Like having a father for a coach (Nastia Lieuken), being teased as a child (Michael Phelps), being short (Shawn Johnson) or being injured and unable to play in The Big Game (Paul and Morgan Hamm).

There you go. Now you have an assignment you can complete in an hour instead of two. You will have time to do your 10 assigned math problems, instead of working on them at breakfast when you should be eating your Toaster Strudel.

Who's Your Beth Dubisar?

2008-08-28T06:16:00.010-04:00

A friend of mine called me the other night from her place in the four-block-long line for the Jonas Brothers concert. She was complaining because an acquaintance of hers had just driven by in her new white Denali and given her a wave on the way to the front of the VIP line.

She was a little huffy. "It's like I have to keep watching while she lives the life I was supposed to have," she said.

And suddenly, a name came to mind that I hadn't thought of in 30 years: Beth Dubisar.

Beth Dubisar was the best diver my age at Westward Ho Country Club. I was the second best.

Every year at the Fourth of July celebration, Beth Dubisar would get up on the diving board and do a perfect back layout with no splash and I knew she would take the first place trophy again.

I'm sure she was a nice girl, but in my memory she was a little snobby. But then, who wants to deal with the guilt of hating someone nice?

Sometimes my kids have Beth Dubisars. It is hard sometimes to see them struggling for something that goes to a kid with more natural talent or better luck.

Instead of telling them to keep plugging away, which is the appropriate mother cheer, I sometimes want to tell them the brutal truth: Life will be full of Beth Dubisars.

And my goal in life is for them to be one of them.

New Beginnings

2008-08-27T05:57:00.007-04:00

Well, today is the first day of a new school year for The Athlete and The Brainiac. The Overachiever and Mr. Nice Guy start next week, and The Entrepreneur is busily working on a big merger-type thing in the office off the kitchen.

That leaves me here at the keyboard, contemplating some goals for myself and kind of wishing there was a Back to School day for me to get me focused on something new and exciting.

I would buy some trendy new black slacks and the cute silver Coach shoes and matching bag I saw while shopping for the Athlete's new sneakers yesterday and then I would head off to my fabulous new job as . . . . . . a book editor.

All day long my underlings would bring me stacks of manuscripts from hopeful novelists, which I would read a few pages of and toss into a big garbage bin next to my desk.

Every now and then I would find one that was completely inspirational or hilarious, and I would decide to publish it and it would be talked about on Oprah and she would have me on as a guest because I discovered it.

Ah . . . I hear footsteps from above and that is my clue to wake up from my little fantasy and cook the eggs and put on my very-not-trendy cargo shorts and very-not-Coach work boots and get to work whipping a couple of gardens into shape.

Oh well. A girl can dream.

Tit for Tat Parenting

2008-08-26T07:48:00.007-04:00

I was really excited for The Athlete to come home from camp. The rest of the kids are living their big lives with cars and jobs and significant others and they just kind of breeze through here on the way to their next destination.

But The Athlete still needs me for permission, transportation and new clothes, and has to hang around home a bit more, so her exit left a big quiet place in the house that I did not like.
So it was with a little bit too much emphasis that I ran to the door when her dad brought her home from camp and gave her a little too big of a hug.

"Geez Mom." is what she said. And she didn't hug back.

Now My Mother The Therapist says that this is the usual behavior for teenage girls, and that it is "perfectly normal" for them to treat their mothers like crap.

The problem for me is that Sibling Number Four has a daughter who has never gone through the My Mother has Cooties phase. She is perfectly considerate and kind to her mother and even lets her mother say things that annoy her without rolling her eyeballs.

Having lived through two teen girls so far, this situation has had me mad with jealousy and confusion. I have really tried just about everything to get my teens to like me, but it never really worked until yesterday, when I had entirely given up and decided not to care anymore.

The Athlete had been asked to unpack a small duffel bag full of items that came home from camp. The grips that she uses for the bars at gymnastics were in there, and I wanted to make sure they didn't get forgotten when she went to practice on the following day, as her coach is very focused on teaching her a big new trick on the bars.

Late in the day, she asked to walk down the street to spend the evening with a friend and I asked if the bag had been unpacked to which she gave a nod and headed out the door.

The next day I drove her to practice. She had a new bag packed with items for an overnight stay with a friend from the gym. As I was pulling away from the gym, she got a panicked look on her face, and announced that she didn't have her grips.

Turns out they were in the bottom of the duffel bag that she did not unpack, but shoved under her bed the night before.

I had to turn around and go home and get the grips, which added another 40 minutes of driving to my life. I was not happy, and when I came back to the gym and threw them to her I told her the sleepover was not happening. And I didn't say it in a very nice way.

A few hours later when I came back to get her, I was expecting some pleading or some foot stomping or something about the cancelled sleepover, but instead she gave me a little hug and asked if I was mad at her. I was dubious.

"You know the sleepover is off, I said. "You didn't do what I asked YOU to do, so now I can't do what YOU are asking me.

"I know, she said. I just don't want you to be mad any more."

Go figure.

We have a Winner!

2008-08-23T19:23:00.016-04:00

Columbia turned out to be the favorite school of the four that we visited this time. I'm not sure for Haley if it was the school itself or the baked ziti pizza she found across from campus or the fact that an episode of her favorite show, Gossip Girl, was being filmed on campus while we were there.

So she will apply, and maybe I will get to see more of The Big Apple if we get really lucky.

Thanks to all of you who came along on our tour of schools with us.

It turns out that even famous people take their kids to see the colleges. We spotted Eric Clapton among our fellow tour-goers. Or at least I THINK it was him :)

A Bite of the Big Apple

2008-08-23T07:11:00.011-04:00

After our Tour of Cornell, it was back in the car for a long drive to our final destination of the campus of Columbia University in New York City.
I was a little bit excited, having never been to NYC.

Sadly, we didn't make it there until about 9 p.m., and even though it is the City That Never Sleeps, we needed to, and so we had just a little time to grab a slice of pizza and take a stroll through Times Square, before grabbing some shut eye.

I shouldn't really say "stroll," I should say "bump," because in New York you have to have your game on to avoid bumping into people, and I was much too amazed by the giant buildings and huge flashing billboards to be paying much attention to anything else.

The Entrepreneur thought it would be nice to let Frenchie and The Brainiac stroll around near the hotel and see the sights. I thought that was insane, but three against one means I lost that one and so I sat in bed with my cell phone in my hand and called them 15 minutes later begging them to come back. Which they nicely did.

Since we didn't have to leave for our campus tour until 11:30 the next morning, I had time to do one New York touristy thing. I chose a Bicycle Rickshaw Ride around Central Park. I learned many fascinating things there and I got to see the bench that John Lennon sat on when he wrote his song "Imagine." But there was one thing I learned that was very fascinating to me.

I learned that The Entrepreneur, who sometimes doesn't seem to understand some very simple things I speak to him in English, can perfectly understand the Turkish-American dialect of a Rickshaw driver from Azerbaijan.

For example: There is a statue of a dog in the park. His name is Balto and you are not allowed to touch him because he was very expensive. He was the leader of a sled dog team that prevented an outbreak of diphtheria by delivering the serum by dogsled back in the day.

I know that from looking up the story on the Internet. Because from our driver I only got this:

"You know Valto." (I raise my eyebrows???? and The Entrepreneur nods.)

"Valto," says the Rickshaw driver.

"He is sled doc what drive mush team for the medicine. Cue no sled doc? Den der is movie. You no movie Valto? to call honor to doc. But if you touch doc there is trouble. You can take photograph and then ven you toch it this is the only way you can toch it."

The Entrepreneur nods. I shake my head.

Then, the two of them start having a big conversation about where the driver went to school and how long he has been driving the rickshaw and how much he makes.

On the way back in the cab, I told the Entrepreneur he was really polite to ask the driver so many questions about himself, even though we couldn't understand much of what he was saying.

"What do you mean," he said. "He goes to school and comes here in the summer to drive the rickshaw. He makes about $200 a day plus tips. He's thinking of finishing school in Canada. Were you having trouble understanding him?"

Who me? Not at all.

Go Big Red!

2008-08-22T06:49:00.008-04:00

From Colgate it was on to Grandpa's alma mater: Cornell University. On this tour we learned some fascinating facts. Did you know that the Campbell's Soup creators chose the soup can colors while admiring Cornell's colors at a game? Or that the architecture and engineering students spend weeks each year building a dragon that they burn in front of the school at completion? Or that there is a spot on campus where you can stand and wave at your mom on the internet? Or that a Cornell Sweatshirt costs $86 in the campus store? Or that there are lots of weeds in the grass at Cornell (O.K. so only I noticed that).

Ultimately, we were not so impressed, but honestly, the tour guide really put the nail in the coffin of this school.

Her NAME was ANDREA and she TALKED very LOUDLY while walking backward at a very fast pace. She HAD a habit OF putting the emphasis ON the wrong words IN a sentence.

And she was madly in love with the word actually.

Actually, this was a big bother to me because there is someone I see a lot in my own town that says actually three or four times in a sentence and when I go away I don't feel like I should have to deal with that word.

Anyway, we are not actually considering Cornell, (Sorry Gramps) even though they do have some cool waterfalls there.

Higher Education

2008-08-20T17:03:00.022-04:00

I felt a little sorry for The Athlete.

The Brainiac and her boyfriend, Frenchie, (he's Basque) were along for the trip to camp because we were going on from there to visit several colleges in the area. Our first appointment was at 1 p.m. at a college four hours away.

In order to get to the tour of Colgate University on time, we would have to literally push The Athlete out the door of the car with her bags and keep on rolling.

Our Rising Seniors were not too happy when I insisted we at least help her unpack and meet her counselor before heading out. And so we jogged to her cabin and tucked the sheets haphazardly into her bunk and assuaged our guilt with $40 for a camp sweatshirt before waving goodbye.

We pulled away from camp at 10 a.m.

Our GPS, Silicone Sally, said we would be to our destination at 2:02, making us just over one hour late for our scheduled campus tour.

Had I been driving, making the tour on time would have been out of the question. But, sadly, I was not driving.

The Entrepreneur was driving, and he considered it a personal challenge and his duty as a father to get The Brainiac to her college tour dead or alive.

So off we went through the Amish-buggy dotted hills of Pennsylvania cruising at speeds I can't confess in order to avoid my mother, who I know is reading, having a heart attack. Let's just say at times I felt like I was in a live version of the arcade car game you play where you blow into a million pieces when you hit a wall - or an Amish buggy.

A minute at a time, the GPS reduced our arrival time, and we pulled into the little town of Hamilton, NY just in time for the tour.

Now, having been on several of these tours by this point, let me point out that what I look for in a school is not the same as what Frenchie and The Brainiac look for.

I am checking to see if the lawns are weed-free and the shrubs are properly pruned and there are some decent annual beds and sizable container gardens to improve the view.

Frenchie and Brainiac are checking class sizes, research opportunities and student life.

For me the end-of-the-tour treat is also very important.

At Colgate, the end of the tour treat was a delicious Vanilla Cookiewich provided by the local Byrne Dairy. It is two tasty chocolate chip cookies with some yummy vanilla ice cream sandwiched between.

Colgate gives away 10,000 of these each year, according to the University Catalog.

At Kalamazoo College, the end of the tour treat was a cold bottle of water. Guess which college is at the top of my list?

Skater Boys

2008-08-20T07:10:00.014-04:00

When last I posted, we were headed for Woodward, PA. to drop off The Athlete for her first week of overnight camp. I was thinking on the way that it might be a little bit like the camp of my youth: Camp Teepeetonka.

At Camp Teepeetonka, you swam in a dirty lake, slept in a spidery cabin, ate whatever it was they fed you and participated in some lame activities like Luster Lace Bracelet Making and Wildlife Walks. We had a lot of fun, but that was because we couldn't see into the future to what camp would be like if we had been fortunate enough to be born 30 years later.

My kid is staying in paradise! There are beautiful rolling hills, an Olympic-sized pool with diving boards, CHOICES of food items and several gyms full of beautiful state-of-the-art gymnastics equipment.
And in case she gets bored of that, there are some extra activities like rock-wall climbing, trampoline bungee jumping and a ropes course.

Also, there is one other thing available that has been added to The List of Things That Make The Athlete happy:

Boys

And not just any boys.

Skater boys.

Boys who love danger and extreme sports. Boys you can compete against.

Even though I was assured by the camp counselor that the boys have to stay on their half of the compound after 7 p.m., I am fairly sure that The Athlete will come home with a few new numbers programmed into her cell phone.

Empty Nest

2008-08-17T06:49:00.010-04:00

I rescued a family of baby birds from a nest that was falling out of the bottom of a decaying bird house earlier in the week. The mother finch wasn't too happy with me while I stood there with my duct tape and scissors lifting the falling nest and the three tiny baby birds and taping the house back together, but she went back in to tidy things up and check on her brood after I was a safe distance away.

Today I am a little jealous of her, because my last baby is leaving the nest for her first stay at overnight camp. We will drop her off at 9 a.m. for a week long stay at Woodward Gymnastics Camp in Pennsylvania and go on to check out the colleges of Cornell and Columbia with another one of my babies.

I asked The Athlete if she would maybe find a way to call me from her cell phone (which I am paying for) at the same time each day so I can find out what is happening in her life. She said she heard that the reception at camp is really bad and she probably won't be able to call me at all.

Nice.

Meet Mr. Nice Guy

2008-08-16T06:39:00.008-04:00

Well you have all met The Overachiever, The Brainiac and The Athlete. Those are my girls. They live at home with me and The Entrepreneur. (That's the hubby. More on him later).

But there is another kid out there in the world that gives me my wrinkles. His name is Mr. Nice Guy. It's hard to believe Mr. Nice Guy is related to the other three siblings. They are big talkers. Mr. Nice Guy is a man of few words.
Even so, everywhere the girls go, people tell them they have met their brother. "We love Nate," they say.
"What a nice guy!"

He's made himself pretty scarce since moving out for good this summer. Getting away from all the females meant so much to him that he spent his own money on rent for the summer. He is a big fan of his leisure time. Last I checked he was majoring in frisbee golf and minoring in beer drinking.

Mr. Nice guy had some trouble growing up that still haunts him a little. I hate the labels, so let me put it to you this way: Mr. Nice Guy has some trouble with the details.

He flew off to New Hampshire to spend the week at a lake house with some buddies yesterday and I was a nervous wreck.

Would Mr. Nice Guy know that you have to put all the things that are more that three ounces in the little plastic bag? Would the boy who uses only cash have anything to put in the machine that spits out your ticket? Would he try to pack his Leatherman knife for Boy Scout lake-type purposes and be detained by airport officials?

Fortunately, and with some prodding, Mr. Nice Guy called me from the plane upon landing to let me know he made it there O.K. It made my heart go pitter-pat when he gave me the ILY in the middle of a plane full of strangers.

But now there is a whole new week of worry. Mr. Nice Guy is deathly allergic to Poison Ivy.

A New Contest Entry

2008-08-15T17:33:00.003-04:00

My Aunt Mary has sent a late entry into the Favorite New Product contest that I was running a few weeks ago. She is a big fan of the Tube Press, which gets the last little bit of product out of tubes of toothpaste and the like.
Aunt Mary would really like to be a Product Tester in case anyone is hiring for that position.

Chipotle Madness

2008-08-15T07:16:00.004-04:00

I ran 47 mailboxes today. Not because I am an athlete. Because Chipotle is coming to my town and I am very, very afraid. I am afraid because I found out on the internet, which often tells me things I do not want to know, that my favorite item at Chipotle contains 630 calories before I add the sour cream. And I wouldn't even think of eating my burrito bol without the sour cream.

According to some more research I did, I would have to jog for an hour and a half just to burn that off. That is a lot of mailboxes!

To give you an idea of the power of Chipolte, I will pass on a little story I heard at our last Sunday night deck party.

Some friends who live down the street have a son who plays football. They have always chosen the number seven for his jersey. In the beginning, the dad was the coach of the team and had a little influence the day the jerseys were given out. Since then, every year the coaches honor the kid's request to have the number seven.
So the years have gone by with the parents sitting in the bleachers, scouring the field for number seven and cheering for their son.
Until. . . . .

The other day Danny came home from his first high school football practice with a jersey printed with the number 12.

His mother was upset. "Where is number seven?" she asked.
To which he replied:

"I traded it to Mike for 10 bucks and a Chipotle gift card."

Now that is some powerful food!

Education vs. Decoration

2008-08-13T07:59:00.011-04:00

We left you on the steps of the admissions office at the wrong college. The Brainiac is at this time wondering where her brain came from since it obviously did not come from the mother who could not navigate her to her first college interview on time.

But the mother is humble and not afraid to call the correct college and apologize profusely and beg for directions.

And so we arrived just a little bit late for the tour of Kalamazoo College.

And while there were some fascinating facts about the new library paid for by an endowment from so and so, and I really did care about the state-of-the-art computers and that the lounges in the dorms get painted every three years (which, by the way, is exactly three times as often as anything at my house gets painted) I was mesmerized by the grounds of the place.

It may be that most of what I remember of college is trekking to class through the frozen tundra with my nostrils stuck together, but I'm pretty sure we didn't have fire pits surrounded by teak adirondack chairs at good old Mankato State University.

I couldn't hold back when we passed the Wildflower Hill. I asked a few questions about how old it was and how it was maintained. The guide looked at me a little quizzically and replied: "I have no idea, but one of the older ladies in admissions might know."

I was just recovering from this dis, when I felt a sharp pain in my side which I quickly realized was the elbow of the Brainiac.

"From this point forward you are not allowed to ask any questions," she said. And so I spent a silent day snapping photos of the flowers from underneath my jacket.

Directions 101

2008-08-12T06:58:00.007-04:00

After dropping the gymnasts off at Supercamp the following morning, The Brainiac and I hit the streets of Michigan in search of a little place called Kalamazoo College, which is one of the 26 places on the Brainiacs' "List of Schools to Visit."

Silicone Sally (our GPS) didn't seem to know the address of said college, so we relied on some sketchy directions from the lady at the front desk of the Hampton Inn. According to her, our destination was just 15 minutes away. Our tour was scheduled for 10 a.m. We left the hotel at 9:20.

We were following the map and looking for a side street named Liberty, but after following the main street across the whole city without seeing it, we stopped in desperation at a service station and asked a kid who looked like he might go to college if he knew where the school was.

"Heck. I'm gonnna be driving near there in a minute," he said.
"Follow me and I'll point you off when we hit your turn."

He took a turn at a side street that was NOT Liberty and pointed his left hand out the window toward a big hill and gave us a little honk. I was wishing we could keep him with us for the rest of the trip and all of the other 25 visits the Brainiac was planning.

At this point, we were inspired to be seeing some educational buildings. Desperately scanning the names on them for one that read Office of Admissions, and glancing at our clock, which read 9:58, we pulled over and asked a walker where that building was located. He looked at us with a little roll of the eyeballs and pointed across the street. Pulling at a clip into the last parking space in front of the building and looking at the car clock, which read 10:00, we grabbed our stuff and bolted up the steps to the front doors. It was at that time that I happened to glance over at a big sign on the lawn that looked like this:

At this point I said to the Brainiac: "Is Kalamazoo College known by any other names?

Coming tomorrow:

Stay tuned to find out if her mother's terrible sense of direction will prevent the Brainiac from recieving a quality education.

Where the - - - - is Kalamazoo?

2008-08-11T07:12:00.010-04:00

I've been gone a while from the blog, just sorting out my thoughts after cramming The Athlete and a friend and The Brainiac into a rental car (mine was being fixed from a collision - not my fault mom - that resulted in a bad case of whiplash for me several months ago) for the dual purposes of supervising the girls at a weekend gymnastics camp and touring a college campus in a faraway place called Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Because I married one of those macho guys who is always the driver on road trips, my experience with interstate driving is limited. But I am a big girl now and I had my trusty Silicone Sally (that is what my brother Jim calls his GPS) to lead me in the right direction.

Two hours into the four-hour trip I began to realize that the driving was the easy part. The tough part was listening to three girls sing out loud to the music that was playing from the earphones of their three separate I Pods. Even Johnny Cash belting out Burning Ring of Fire from my car stereo couldn't drown out that racket.

The second most difficult part of the trip was watching five gymnasts eat. Bags of Cheetos, Nerds, french fries and cans of pop just seemed to pass right through their bodies without leaving anything behind but energy.
The Brainiac and I, who are both watching our weight, were looking on at this snack-fest in dismay.
At one point on the way to our destination the gymnasts demanded a stop at a rest station to refuel on more sugar. All five (three from another car) sat at a table devouring sleeves of tiny cinnamon rolls coated with icing. The Brainiac and I looked on in wonder, sipping our diet cokes.

"Skinny b - - - - - -, she muttered. And, even though I hate that kind of language, I really had to agree.

Dream Big

2008-08-10T11:00:00.001-04:00

It’s funny how life comes back around sometimes.

A few decades ago I sat on the floor in my childhood home in front of the T.V. and watched every second of the gymnastics portion of the Olympics, convinced that in four years I was going to go up on the podium and put the little crown of flowers on my head and wave to the crowd wearing my gold metal just like my idol, Mary Lou Retton. Never mind that my most stunning skill at the time was a back walkover.

In a few days, I am going to be glued to my own T.V,. watching another adorable pixie named Shawn Johnson win the gold for the U.S., and my gymnast daughter, whose dream has always been to go to the Olympics, is going to watch with me. I hope she isn’t too old to think that she could be out there, sticking her landings and waving to the crowd.

I hope one of her sisters doesn’t say: “Don’t be an idiot.” You’ll never be good enough to go to the Olympics!” like several of mine did.

I hope she will see that some of the skills the athletes are doing are skills she is working on now and realize that nothing is impossible.

I hope she will dream big.

Six, Seven, Eight...

2008-08-06T14:00:00.002-04:00

The sixth and seventh principles of Prepare for Parenting and Feed with Love and Respect are hard to argue with. I would just like to maybe add that a three year old can feed himself milk with love and respect and you have no business sharing yours with him any more.

The last principle is one I struggle with every day. It is Respond with Sensitivity. I don’t think a child is ever too old to have their feelings hurt by insensitive things a parent says. So I guess yesterday when I found the empty bag of chips and the half-drunk glass of juice in the family room where eating is not allowed and I yelled: “YOU PEOPLE ARE ALL SLOBS!” I really flunked the Attachment Parenting test. Oh well. At least I aspire.

Cinco

2008-08-04T01:01:00.001-04:00

Use Nurturing Touch is the fifth principle. This one is why the big cloth baby carrier is on every new mom’s gift list. My chiropractor says these are great for his business. While those who subscribe to the Detachment Parenting method can’t imagine life without the round thing with wheels, the bouncy, vibrating seat, the swing and the playpen, Attachment Parenting parents believe a baby is happiest when being toted around strapped to his mom or dad loading the dishwasher and ridding the lawn of dog poo.
I think these babies are really missing out on a lot of fun that my kids had as infants. How would The Athlete ever have learned to jump so high without the many hours of hanging in the Johnny Jump Up and giving her legs a workout? It could be argued that The Brainiac’s excellent driving skills can be directly traced to the many hours she spent chasing me around the kitchen chewing frozen pizza crusts in her Exersaucer.

And A Three, And A Four

2008-08-03T09:15:00.002-04:00

Continuing with Attachment V. Detachment Parenting...

Engage in Nighttime Parenting is the third principle. This principle says that babies might be uncomfortable or lonely during the night and so you should just let them sleep with you. The problem then becomes that your husband becomes uncomfortable and lonely as well. This is my least favorite of the Principles, because I feel like it makes the kid too needy and the mom and dad too cranky.

Practice Positive Discipline is the fourth principle. I think this means do not spank your kid and you are not allowed to say: “Because I said so, that’s why.” I feel badly, because that is one of my favorite Detachment Parenting phrases. I think the best way to illustrate this principle being applied correctly is to tell you a little story about my niece, Curlylocks, the two-year-old daughter of sibling Number Six, whom, as I mentioned, is the president of the Attachment Parenting Fan Club.

One morning when this sister and I were at the home of sibling Number Eight, Curlylocks was sitting in her chair eating her porridge when she spied my glass of orange juice.

“Mommy, she said. “I want some of that.”

“Please may I have a glass of that?” my sister corrected, raising her right eyebrow.

“Please may I have a glass of that? Curlylocks said obediently, licking her lips. (Orange juice is not something she has in her normal life. Too much sugar.)

“O.K., “ said my sister. “For a special treat you may have a glass of orange juice,” and she poured Curlylocks a little, tiny glass.

And she drank it all up.

Then she looked right at her mother while holding up the empty glass and screamed at the top of her lungs: “I WANT SOME MORE OF THAT!”

Then my sister kind of cocked her head to the side and raised her right eyebrow and just looked at Curlylocks for a couple of seconds without saying anything at all.

At which point Curlylocks put down the glass very calmly on the counter and said in a very polite and quiet voice: “Mama. When can I have some more of that?”

“Maybe on Thursday,” said my sister.

And then Curlylocks nodded her head and went back to eating her porridge.

During this exchange I was just looking back and forth from parent to child with the kind of sick excitement that an older sibling who has lived through the parenting of several strong willed children will have when watching a younger sibling deal with the challenge. I was getting ready for the big tantrum with maybe some stomping and some yelling from the child or the parent or both and I got nothing.

Watching this exchange made it clear that the Positive Discipline Eyebrow Raise is the most valuable of all the Attachment Parenting Principles, and the one I would fail at most miserably.

Detach...umm...Attachment Parenting - Part 2

2008-08-01T12:30:00.003-04:00

The second principle is to Provide Consistent and Loving Care. This means you shouldn’t leave your kid with a bunch of different babysitters. Sometimes I notice that some fans of Attachment Parenting are interpreting this one to mean that you should NEVER leave your child with any babysitter.

Back when I was practicing Detachment Parenting, I kind of cheated. I had a whole bunch of teenagers we would use on Friday nights because the same one was never available. Most of them had brown hair and the first one was named Megan. My oldest daughter (The Overachiever), who was about two at the time, started calling all of the babysitters Megan. So maybe you can cheat on the consistent part of Attachment Parenting if your kid is not too focused on details.

I think that leaving your kid with someone every now and then is very important because if you don’t, he will be the kid having a breakdown on the steps of the school bus on the first day of kindergarten and clinging desperately to your leg. And it is important not to screw around with kindergarten because even if you are an Attachment Parent, you will be dying to go on errands by yourself.

Attachment Parenting vs. Detachment Parenting Part 1

2008-07-30T17:19:00.002-04:00

I’ve been hearing a lot lately about Attachment Parenting. Sibling Six of Nine is big into this and I have to be careful what I say about it because she is practically the president of the Attachment Parenting Fan Club and also you don’t want to make her mad because I did that once in high school and she gave me the silent treatment for two whole weeks.

Being a bit afraid of her as I am, I decided that the responsible thing for me to do would be to learn a little bit about Attachment Parenting before I write about it. And so, even though I really hate homework, I went online and found out a little more about it.

I found out that the essence of Attachment Parenting is to form a strong connection with your kid. I think that is a great idea and I’m in big favor of it as long as the parent doesn’t lose his or her own individual identity in the process.

Now, Attachment Parenting has eight main principles that the new crop of moms and dads are following. They are quite different than the principles that I followed when bringing up my kids, but I think I am fairly open minded about most of them, especially since I brought up my kids on the DETACHMENT parenting model, where you react to having no time for yourself by hiding from your kids in the bathroom just to hear yourself think.

The first one is to Strive for Balance in Personal and Family Life. This means that you have to say “no” to all of the people who are asking you to spread yourself too thin because that makes you cranky and you won’t be nice to your kid. I think this is a great idea. It means that raising a kid has become elevated in importance.

Twenty years ago, if you stayed home with your kids like I did, you were kind of embarrassed about it. You sort of dreaded meeting new people who asked: “So, what do YOU do?”

Now I feel like moms of little kids would reply: “I’m shaping a human being, that’s what!” I like the concept of that, but I feel really badly that these poor moms who are investing so much time and effort into every phrase and action might not realize that the kid and his brother are going to grow up with two completely different personalities even though they were raised exactly the same and then you will wonder if you were fighting a losing battle against a stronger opponent called Personality.

Stay tuned as we examine a principle a day for the next week.

	Ireland
	Scotland
	Italy
	Russia

	All Hallows Eve
	All Saints' Eve
	Hallowed End
	Samhain
	Spirit Day

	Haddonfield, Illinois
	New York City, New York
	Reno, Nevada
	Austin, Texas