Bleh.

Headache again today... but it's the first really bad one in about three weeks - maybe I should be happier that I'm back on the pill. I think the weather might be playing a part - thunderstorms are threatening. Changing barometric pressure and all that. It was cool and humid this morning and it's hot and muggy now. Haaaaaate hot and muggy.
I am still not in the knitterly frame of mind and my book is sucky. I'm just in a sucky mood I guess.
Bean, mom and I went to a play last night - we all thought it was really good. We got home late and then Bean reminded me that we were out of milk so I was at the grocery store at 10:30... but we got Cinnamon Life (my favorite cereal this week) and more diet Dr. Pepper. So that's not so bad.
So the husband is off today, wonder if he'll have dinner ready when I get home. (Pardon me while I roll around laughing). Sigh. Actually, in a totally "not like me" move I bought some smoked cheddar brats and will cook those when I get home. The husband is quite pleased. It really sounds good to me. I'm not a huge fan of stuff like that - sausages and processed meats and "boy" food - and it's really not at all good for my headache situation but oh well. Cravings, cravings! I hope we have some good mustard at home...
We went through this mustard-buying thing about a year ago that lasted a few months... we had brown mustard and honey mustard and dijon and sweet and hot and sweet-hot and plain old yellow. I have no idea what's left. Plain old yellow would be fine on these brats but a nice, grainy brown wouldn't suck.
Can you tell I'm hungry?? I did really well diet-wise today until I picked Bean up from camp. We ran a few errands and it was hot and our last stop was close to a DQ so I had ice cream. Now I feel like I could eat my car.
Apparently bad headache = boring blog.... I'll do better tomorrow!

Occasional showers and thunderstorms...

That 's the weather forecast for today. It's dark(ish) and smells like rain. I am finding it very difficult to stay awake, let alone focus on anything work-related. We're also going to have to re-air last week's Zorba Paster because whoever it is that posts it to the download site didn't post the whole show so when I tried to download it I got the first 60 seconds... we're going to get calls. At this point they can all bite me. If I didn't run last week's show they'd get an hour of silence and then they'd really be upset... Dream Engineer has informed me that my lovely boss has actually ordered the part that we're missing (finally) and the computer that changes the channels will be fixed soon. Like most broadcast stations we have some programs that are live from the satellite and some that are recorded and aired later. It's sort of like if you have TiVo - some shows you watch and some you tape and air later. Since the most recent lightning strike the "TiVo" part has been broken and I've been downloading all of our shows from a website designed just for that. The problem is, of course, it takes a lot more of my time this way, and the people who post the shows don't always double-check. Oh, and the "TiVo" part is also what keeps our clocks synched to NPR so with the drifting of time we're running about 5 seconds behind. 5 seconds isn't a lot of time if you're, say, in line at the grocery store or underwater or something but if your whole goal is to sound like you're on par with NPR it's usually a good plan to make sure your clocks match.

Just a few more days.

I've been trying to read more of Mockingbird, and I think I know what my snotty little problem is with it... I don't (generally) like biographies. I think they read as though they have not been edited. If you're writing a novel and you try to cram as much unnecessary information in one paragraph as most biographers try to do your editor has a fit and bloodies your copy with his little red pen. Writing should have clean lines. I don't think that every writer can be (or should be) as clean as Hemingway, but ok, read this:

"A.C. Lee's reason for moving his wife and newborn child, Alice, less than two years old, from Bonifay, Florida, to Monroeville was that he was now financial manager for the law firm Bugg & Barnett, handling their majority interests in the M&R" (38).

A couple of things... find something (anything) other than six commas to punctuate that sentence. If all you can do is use a comma, don't write complicated sentences. Also, either the child is a newborn or she's less than two years old. Both descriptors are unnecessary and imply very different things. Moving a couple of states away (even that long ago) with a three month old is a very different thing than moving with an eighteen month old. And if that's not the most important thing then don't describe it twice! Just say Alice. And contextually the sentence is clunky.

I'm just being a snob, right? I'm being too picky? It's just that I start to get into the narrative and then I get banged in the head by the writing and it's pissing me off! And I, frankly, don't care - even in the context of a biography (which I don't generally like anyway) - about most of the stuff that happened before she was born. I don't even really care all that much about the fact that my parents moved to Oklahoma and then back between their wedding and the time I was born. And Harper Lee' s father was (reportedly) quite unconcerned with their family origins - something that is apparently rare in the south - so why do we care? Where was the editor??

To Kill a Mockingbird is a really beautifully written book. I have never published anything, let alone anything as beautiful as that book. Reading this biography, and knowing that Harper Lee is not someone who grants interviews or is interested in anyone knowing anything about her makes me really sad for her. I imagine her reading the advance copy he sent and being sort of pissed off about it. I'm sure that factually it all holds up - as well as any segmented story that has to be pieced together can - but if you could write as well as Harper Lee wouldn't it piss you off if someone wrote about you and it was clunky? Even if it was fine by biography standards, wouldn't you want it to be better somehow?

I should be nicer. The author was in town and the nice women at the bookstore got him to sign a copy for me even though I wasn't there for the reading. On the other hand, part of the reason I was called on to lead these discussions is because I can't read a book without being a little critical.

A little crazy, a little critique, a little yarn, a little school

So here's what it sounded like inside my head this morning at about 5:40:

"I want a muffin."
"No, you don't want a muffin. Those muffins are full of calories and fat and carbs. Wouldn't a nice yogurt be better? Perhaps with a little sprinkle of Fiber One?"
"Nope. I'm buying a muffin."
"I don't think you really want a muffin, I think..."
"I don't really care what you think. I'm tired and there will be no nap today and I am going to eat that muffin."
"Maybe you could freeze the muffin and eat it later if you have been very very good all day."
"Nope. Eating the muffin now and will probably get something fried at the movies later."
"But that muffin is so bad for you, and eating at the movies is asking for an early death."
"You know, people who listen to the little voices in their heads are often crazy. Maybe we should try antidepressants again. Remember that? No sex drive, no food drive, no fun drive... just that little hum that ran through everything?"
"I'm just saying that a muffin might not be our best choice for breakfast this morning..."
"hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm..."
"Okay! Okay!! Eat the frickin muffin. Just don't come crying to me when your jeans are tight."

That's normal, right??

So my work-spouse, Andie and I went to the monthly book club last night (Red Weather, Pauls Toutonghi). I think it was a success... though it's difficult for me to be subjective about it. I don't honestly know what makes a discussion good - I've been doing this for almost a year and everyone seems happy but I don't feel like we're digging in all that deep. This time, the owner of the book store gave me a little pamphlet that the publisher sent out that had "discussion questions" and a little interview with Pauls... the questions were ok. My methods are a little more organic than sitting around in a circle asking questions off of a numbered list - and I don't think she expected me to do that. After the discussion was over I looked over the questions and we had managed to deal with most of them in our own way, so that's good. Next month is Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee, by Charles J. Shields. I started it this morning and was sort of amused... there is an introduction that goes into how hard it was to write the book because Harper Lee does not give interviews. In the introduction he mentions that Lee did not like introductions (me neither). The introduction is so clunky and self-conscious that I don't know that I would have continued if it weren't my job. I know he sent her a copy before it was published - which is appropriate, while she would not participate in the writing of this book, she also did not move to stop any part of the research - and I can imagine her cringe at some of the language. I don't mean to be so critical... I am really looking forward to this book - I just hope it gets over itself pretty soon. In the first chapter there is a little more clunkiness - the sort of clunkiness you find in profiles written for magazines, where they only have a few pages to get in a lot of information. I wouldn't expect to find it in a book of this length. I admire the amount of work Shields put into this book, so I understand why he included information about it in the introduction, but it feels sort of self-congratulatory and false.
But who the hell am I to criticize??
I don't know. I just think that if you're going to write a book about Harper Lee you'd better be a pretty fucking good writer. We'll see if he can get his tone under control.

After the discussion group Andie and I tried to see the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie but every show was sold out. We bought tickets for today and then saw The Devil Wears Prada. It was funny enough, but Johnny Depp was not in it. It was like craving pears and being handed a banana.

Oh yarn-y, yarn, yarn. There are no pictures (yet) but my Knit in Public meeting this week was a "naked needles yarn exchange" and was oh so much fun!! I traded a little sock yarn and two books for a little more sock yarn and some really pretty yarn that is probably going to become a blanket for me. I also bought some cotton yarn for washcloths (shhhhhh, don't tell Kerri. She is in the process of buying a new house so I'm making her knitted washcloths for her *first* kitchen). I think she might be on to me, though, as I was not at all subtle when I asked her what color her kitchen and bathroom was going to be.

So I realized this week that it's July already. Nothing gets by me! My semester starts August 17 and I can start my practicum two weeks before that... which would be the end of July. AND IT'S JULY ALREADY. I called the poor woman with whom I interviewed last November and she wasn't working there anymore (not a good sign at all) and then I called the other woman with whom I interviewed and while she didn't remember me or anything about our interview she apparently trusted that I knew what I was talking about and scheduled my first day for July 31. I'll be working with a Hospice Monday, Thursday and Friday mornings... just one more ball I can't drop!

Back in the saddle again...

I got an email today from Weight Watchers (tricky bastards, how'd they know how much garlic dip and jerk chicken I ate last night?) They said if I re-join now they'll remove the sign-up fee. I stepped on the scale, fainted, crawled back to the computer and clicked "for the love of god, yes". Seriously, I'm like, two steps away from being on Springer or Maury or whoever is scheduling fat shows this year.

So far today I've had 3 stupid points. I just finished my healthy snack of carrots and broccoli.
(bleh - no Ranch Dressing).
I'm not happy.

When I try to diet a civil war breaks out. Half of my head says, "Good. It's about frickin' time - how about an egg-white omelet with roasted bell peppers and mushrooms?" and the other half says "Did you know that Ben and Jerry's is on sale? Oh, and remember those soft sugar cookies?!? They're on sale too. You know what would be really good? A loaf of buttered white bread with sugar on it."

And, of course, I'm readying myself to go back to the gym...
That half of me that wants all of the bad food is reacting to this whole diet and exercise plan like my nephew reacts to bath time. Lots of screaming and stamping of feet and pouting.

Here's the great thing about Weight Watchers, though... tonight is a Knit in Public meeting and we're meeting at Panera - certain death, right? Nope. I looked up the points value for my favorite sandwich and I can work it in and still get a chocolate chip muffie. Yay me. (Grrrrrr).

I will NOT be posting my starting weight (~~SHUDDER~~) but if I do manage to stick with it I'll post my losses. I have never been a small girl - and I never will be. I'm not going to Star Jones my way into a size 4 (Is it just me or does she look better fat?!?). I honestly don't think I'd look very good if I was all stick and no figure. But healthy is good, and smaller is good.
Looking at where I am and then all the way down the scale to where I'd like to be is scaryscary - it's like starting on the top of a mountain in Oregon and walking to a beach in Texas.
So, small goal number one: I'd like to lose ten pounds.

Happy 4th of July

I'm not necessarily the most patriotic person. I don't think that we are the "greatest" country in the world - any more than Italians think Italy is the greatest or Canadians think Canada is the greatest. I think that there are certainly advantages to living here, but that's true of a lot of places.
I sometimes feel like we love our country the way abused kids love their parents - blindly, and despite the things we have to go through. I am totally against this idiotic "my dick is bigger than your dick" war. I support the troops - it's certainly not their fault - and I know that it is their courage and dedication that keeps my family safe, at least from the draft. At least for now.

I think that Dubya is a moron who sets a bad example for young people: his "look what a C-student can become" comment along with his flat out refusal to pronounce words correctly make it seem like average is enough to shoot for. Plus I think he's a rich bully. Good grades and diction along with the ability to sympathize and reason are values I want my child to embrace.

I don't usually speak out politically... but the fact that I can is reason enough to be happy that I live here. The fact that I can hate the President and am not afraid of being killed for saying it is another reason to celebrate. Also, I can read and write - that's a plus. And if you disagree with me, or my politics, or my anything that's ok. The thing about the United States is that we can all believe in different gods and ideals and lifestyles and as long as we can respect each other and get along it works. I know that it doesn't always happen that way but the fact that it CAN makes me want to buy some sparklers.

So celebrate your thing your way today - and make sure to keep a bucket of water handy - you never know when you'll need it!

Did you know that I knit?

I haven't posted anything knitterly lately so I thought maybe you forgot... I haven't been feeling very knitterly lately for some reason. The temperatures have gone over 100 degrees, so that might be part of it. Mostly I've been reading and playing spider solitaire or Sudoku when I have down time. (What down time?) I did get a nap today for the first time in awhile...

On Saturday afternoon my landlord showed up with his wife and the sewer guys. I ended up working in the yard with them (I couldn't very well sit in my house and watch him and his wife trim the hedges and haul branches to the trash, could I?). By the time he left my face was so red I looked like I was about to have a heart attack. We were in the exact part of the day when they say not to do physically taxing things outside. We really need to buy a house... we'd be more likely to keep up on the yardwork in our own yard and if we didn't keep up with it there would be no landlord to make us feel bad about it. It was mostly backyard stuff - it's not like we just didn't mow or something. Anyway, they left after two hours of yucky, dirty, sweaty physical labor but the sewer guys weren't done for another two hours so I was hot and gross and couldn't take a shower. I sat by the fan with a bottle of gatorade and an icepack on my neck. It took me almost an hour to cool down and then I had a headache for the rest of the night.

Heat sucks. Maybe we should look for a house in Maine... or Canada.

Now for the Knitterly stuff... while I was outside on Saturday the mail carrier brought a box. I hadn't ordered anything so I was sort of confused until I saw that the return label was from my friend Emilie. She sent a necklace and earrings and a jar of mango body souffle and this:


It's a much darker red in real life... a bright wine color. It's very softy and there are exactly enough skeins to make a sweater I found on the Lion Brand website. I am so happy!!! It's like she KNEW I wanted to make this sweater...

There is a pattern on the label for a really nice blanket that uses 6 skeins but it's a crochet pattern. It's not that I don't like crochet, I'm just not very good at it. Everything I've tried to crochet has ended up sort of wonky and misshapen. Knitting is a much better idea for me. So just a few weeks ago I was bitching about the cost of yarn and how I would never be able to afford to knit a sweater. (OK, I was really more whining than bitching). And now I have cast on not one, but two sweaters. (Two sweaters, ah ah ah).

Here is the detail on the lapel of the Natalie sweater. I haven't gotten very far on it (obviously) but so far I like it.
I know this picture is not the best... google "Natalie Coat" for a better picture of what it's supposed to look like if you're interested.


I also have two baby blankets on the needles and I'm supposed to be making Cubs socks for the husband and socks for Bean... and there's lace on circular needles somewhere - not to mention the fair isle socks that we're not speaking to. I need to finish something. Maybe that will be my goal for July - finish something. I'll try. I promise I will.
Well, despite my nap today I am very tired and it's time for bed.

Frankie Says Relax!

So things are calming down for my friend Marianne. The new baby is figuring things out, everyone is getting a little more sleep and I think she's turning out to be exactly the kind of mom she wants to be. She made an interesting comment - her baby is a really good baby and I said that Bean was the same way and she said she thinks that laid-back, relaxed parents make laid-back, relaxed babies. I agree to a certain extent - though I do know some parents who are more calm than I could ever be who have kids who are NUTS. I also have a friend who is a little poodle of nerves and you would swear her kids are high they're so mellow - of course, her husband is one of those guys who makes you calm just walking in the room. But babies can smell fear and uncertainty like dogs, and I guess when you can't even gold up your own head or control your arms (let alone find food) realizing that the people in charge have NO idea what they're doing might make you a little anxious. You might want to make absolutely sure that they remember you're around and that they can find you in the dark. Imagine how you'd feel if you were, say, on a plane and the pilot hadn't slept in three or four days and you overheard him on the phone with his mother, "I just don't know, mom, it's a plane full of people whose lives are in my hands. What if I screw it up?"

There is also a gender issue involved - now don't get that way. It's true. Ask any mom who has one of each and I'd bet that three out of four of them will agree. Boys are insane until they're done with puberty, girls are insane once they hit puberty. (Both should be locked away during puberty. Far away. In separate countries.) My sister was such a calm mom that I thought my nephew's screaming was somehow hypnotic - he screamed a lot. In a loud and piercing way. Swear to God I have hearing loss from his first few years - and they lived a state away until he was two. (The irony is that he hates loud noises. Movies that are too loud, 4th of July, any sudden really loud noise upsets him). He's a sensitive kid, and at 6 he doesn't cry so much anymore - he gets frustrated and can still be a frightening ball of negative and unreasonable energy with a flair for the dramatic, but he doesn't cry. At three (and four and part of five) if he said, "Next time can we ride on a rocket ship, 'cause I really want to ride in a rocket ship like Buzz Lightyear." And you said, "That would be a lot of fun, but we don't have a rocket ship and there isn't anyplace here to rent one for the day." He would cry. And then he would scream, "BUT I WANT TO RIDE A ROCKET SHIP LIKE BUZZ LIGHTYEAR! I WANT TO I WANT TO I WANT TO!!" And you'd slowly turn the radio up in the car and count backwards to figure out how many seconds left before your sister came to pick him up. I babysat a lot during those years. My sister worked until 7 - but often didn't pick him up until 7:45 or 8. There were days (lots of them) when he would get pouty and say "I miss my mom" and I would say, "Kid, I miss your mom, too."

And I'm a fun aunt!! (We're in the Midwest, by the way, so that's pronounced "ant," not "ohnt"). We fingerpaint and stop for ice cream and make up silly songs and play games. We are also expected to be cooperative and speak respectfully and not be a little booger when things don't go your way. Go with the flow, kid. Bean was confused by his tantrums and would look at him like he had three heads. But then, she grew up with me. I am fun and relaxed and am not so concerned with "the rules" all the time, but there is a time and a place and a mood. Bean gets it. Once at a picnic - she was almost two - she was doing something stupid... probably smearing her ice cream on the dog or something - I looked at her and said, "That is completely inappropriate behavior." The man sitting next to me (a new dad) laughed and said, "You honestly think she understands anything you just said?" Bean looked at him and said, "Mama said no." And she stopped.

This is not to say (or imply) that Bean did not have her share of acting out and tantrums. Ohhhhh no. While her episodes were infrequent, they were certainly impressive. We were in the grocery store once - she was about three - and it was payday and I was in a good mood so when she asked for extra stuff I put it in the basket. A Lunchable, some chocolate milk, a box of crayons and a new coloring book. At some point I said no. She screamed "BUT I WANT IT." I stopped the cart and looked at her - that mom look - for a long couple of seconds and said, "Mommy said no." Stubborn Bean that she is cocked her head and said "Beanie said yes. I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT." I bent down so that my face was level with her face and in the low, mommy voice said something to the effect of, "This is not the behavior I expect from you and you need to figure out what's wrong and fix it pretty quickly because I'm losing my patience. Seriously." She looked me straight in the eye and said "NO!"

Someone once told me that parenthood makes you understand - not condone or participate in, but understand - how child abuse happens. I thought this was a terrible thing to say at the time. Now I totally agree. Sometimes you want to smack the crap out of their little snotty faces. You DON'T, of course.

Here's what you do: You smile and say in a Disney-caliber sweet voice, still at kid-eye level, "Well, you're not acting like a little girl who needs special treats!" And you retrace your steps through the store putting every single extra thing that she wanted back. No crayons "Bye bye crayons!" No coloring book, "See you later, coloring book." No chocolate milk or Lunchable, "We're having tuna sandwiches at home today, maybe next time!" And she'll probably throw a great big fit through the store, into the checkout line and all the way to the car. She'll scream "NONONONONONONO" until she falls asleep in her carseat on the way home (and she'll probably still be muttering "no" quietly in her sleep) but you've done the right thing and she's learned that tantrums in public mean that not only do you not get what you wanted at the time, you also don't get anything else fun. In time she'll also learn that when she's acting like a moron in public and mom gets all calm, stops arguing and smiles she's gone too far. In time, she'll figure it out that when you look at her for too long with your eyebrows raised that you expect her behavior to change. This doesn't mean she'll never throw another tantrum - they're kids. They can't always be reasonable. Hell, we're adults and we can't always be reasonable.

As your child squirms out of control, ask yourself if advanced planning would have helped. Sometimes the answer is no. Sometimes they're just being a booger-head and you need to get the heck out of the situation.
The trick is to figure out why the tantrum is happening. Sometimes it is totally justified - you can only expect so much from people under 5. If you are in line at the DMV and you've been there for more than thirty minutes and you don't have a snack and a couple of little activities or toys in your purse you are totally at fault. If you are going toy shopping for a birthday party and you don't de-brief the child in the car before you step into the store (We're buying a birthday present for Matthew now, ok? This is not the day we buy toys for you, toys today are for Matthew,") and then reinforce that as you put them in the shopping cart ("Remember, toys are for Matthew today") and then in every aisle, ("These aren't toys for Matthew, lets look at the next aisle. Do you think Matthew likes Dragon Tales?") you're setting yourself (and the kid) up for a very bad day. Bean is almost ten and I still enter every shopping opportunity with the statement "I'm not buying anything extra today."

And sometimes you just have to ignore them. In the grocery store again, Bean is two or so, and because I am so unreasonable that I expect her to sit in the cart with the seatbelt on and NOT throw her juice cup at me she starts to scream. Not words, just screaming. I give her the mom look. I say her full name. I say it louder. But the kid has herself closed off to me. Eyes shut, body rigid, mouth open and louuuuuud. So I took a deep breath and started pushing the cart again. She stopped screaming, un-squinted one eye and looked at me. I examined some grapes. She took a breath and started again. I selected a few apples. Calm and serene on the outside, totally embarrassed on the inside. A few people looked at me like I was beating her with a stick. I just kept shopping. An older woman came up to me in Dairy and said, "I just wanted to tell you that you're doing a really good job." I almost cried. I was doing the right thing!!! About halfway through the store she stopped, as suddenly as she had begun. I handed her juice cup back to her. She said "Ti-tou, baby," (she never just said 'thank you' it was always 'thank you, baby.' I have no idea why). She drank some juice, hummed a little tune. She was normal Bean again.

Imagine how hard parenting would be if they knew how much we didn't know! (Teen years, here I come!!)