Monkeyin' Around

Well, we had a FULL Saturday. I had no idea what sorts of crazy times I was signing on for. We started the day bright and early... 6:30 am on a Saturday. Like I said, I had no idea! And then before lunch we made a library trip (I had books to return and books to get for myself so it seemed like a great idea...) The kids settled on 8 books each... for an even two dozen. I thought that sounded about right! ;) We may actually read most of them before mom and dad return too... Today we read a couple Tacky the Penguin books and one called The Ballad of the Pirate Queens and Skippyjon Jones. We practiced some knitting and I even made an eye patch for Pirate John. Then we decided it was time to get ready for the big night.

The half-time show of the girls basketball game.

We got the hair done, the suit on, and we were off to the ballet company for practice... We fed Sophie some snacks before she left us--bananas, of course. And then the rest of the crew ate at the basketball game. There was a wee bit of miscommunication though. We thought the game started at 7:15 and would be done at a reasonable time... Ahhh, no. It started at 7:45 and so the halftime show wasn't until much later. We were ready to leave then (or shall I say, --I-- was ready to leave then) but there was no way John could leave until he saw if his team would win. And his team? Why whichever one was wearing blue. In this case, the "away team"-- the Spartans. So, he and Lucy cheered for their opposing teams and when the half-time show was done Sophie joined in. Lucy was recruited to draw the winning ticket for the 50/50 drawing. I think we have some future Knights on our hands.

The performance was fantastic. Our little monkey, I mean Sophie, did such a great job. They were one of three numbers and I overheard a man say theirs was the BEST of all of them. Of course they were all good, but I sort of agree.

I will say I am a little shocked at how little Lucy and John seem to know about basketball. And it was a bit of a test for me to try to explain the game in 5 year old terms; I think we covered fouls, free throws, jump balls, traveling, how the points are done in twos except for free throws and silly me, the three point shot. We also talked about sportsmanship, standing for the opposing teams school song etc. John even had an idea for how they could add goalies to the game. Each basketball hoop could have a person up there with a big stick to knock the ball out of the way. I said I thought that might be dangerous, but he explained they would wear a helmet. "That would certainly keep the scores low," I replied. "Yeah, like in hockey" was the response.

The Knights won; the day was fun. Don't even ask when they got to bed.

London Days (Sunday)

While Dave has been in meetings all weekend, I’ve had a wonderful time exploring London. Our hotel is located in an excellent area – it seems most areas of interest are only a 10-15 minute walk away.

Each day I’ve enjoyed a “lie in” and then met the girls: Maureen (Isle of Man) and Lorraine (Princeton, NJ) for brunch.

After brunch today we walked two blocks from our hotel to Buckingham Palace and saw the changing of the guard – it was so very crowded but I still managed to get a few pics.

From there we managed a 15 minute walk along Constitution Street to Knightsbridge where we admired the shops and did a bit of shopping ourselves at Harrods. (The picture of Harrods was actually taken Monday evening.)

After Dave’s meetings were over, we went to a pub to watch the highly touted Ireland/France rugby match. Poor Brian (Dublin) had tickets to it, but was stuck watching it with us rugby ignorant Americans while Fiona and her father got to see it in person. As we watched I found I preferred all the action to American football (gasp!) and was sad to see Ireland lose in the last minute of the match.

Finally, we gathered at Simpsons on Strand for a dinner with the whole group. While there, we were surprised to see a side order called Bubble and Squeak. Fortunately, Maureen was able to explain that it is a dish made up of fried-up leftover vegetables.

It was nice to have Pat and Ellen’s (Scranton, PA) kids with us. Every time we saw them they were all smiles, and Patrick (the 15 year old) even tried the goose pate as a starter. Harley (Lorraine’s husband) raved over his sponge cake dessert so much that our waiter, Talat, brought seconds just for him. Not to worry – we all helped out with seconds.

Manners Don't Matter... tee hee

Woo Hoo... glad you made it to London. Sounds like you are having a great time. And let's hope your "dogs" hold out with all that walking, Marci. The kids loved the double decker bus and now are convinced they need to see that show... will there be another trip to London just for Scooby-Doo?

Our Friday was pretty typical. We just hung out around home and for supper we feasted on spaghetti... or Parmesan noodles for John, and as you can see we were all on our best well-mannered behavior. Before bed we read some of a pirate Geronimo Stilton book. Guess who picked that one. We love you too.....

We're Here in London

Twenty-two hours after leaving our house, we arrived at the Crowne Plaza just in time for a pint, a quick shower and dinner with friends. Today, while Davey-baby was in meetings, Lorraine and I walked 15 minutes to the National Gallery. Along the way we saw Big Ben as he rang out at 11:30, walked by the Westminister Abbey and 10 Downing Street, and, finally through Trafalgar Square. The National Gallery was a true pleasure - seeing the actual work by Picasso, Monet, Van Gogh, Renoir, Vermeer, and Da Vinci was wonderful. I got so excited at one point that the guard came over and told me to stand back. Silly is pretty much how I felt at that point.

Sophie, Lucy and John - take a look at the double decker bus; I bet you wish you were here! The good news for you three is we'll wait to see Scooby Doo until you're with us. In the meantime, enjoy your shows from the Scooby Bowl.


We love you and miss you!

Back on the Homefront

While the dynamic duo are wending their way across land and sea, the kids are doing fine back home. Tonight we did spelling words and tried on the hockey gear and played some sort of tickle monster game in which I (the guest blogging babysitter) kept being instructed to pretend to fall asleep like their dad or allow myself to be fooled by the substitution of "cheese" for "please" or to be distracted by random phrases like... "Look the TV is on...." or "Oh no! Your computer is broken!" Ahhhh, yes that is ONE way to distract the tickle monster. But nothing was broken and the spelling words can be spelled flawlessly and McDonald's Playland is no place for grownups... at least not in the actual PLAY area... my hair is permanently static-filled and yet... once home they were asleep in no time... a bit later than normal, but asleep safe and sound nonetheless....

We're off to London.... sort of

Although Dave and I left the house at 2:30 for a 4:40 flight, it's 6 pm and we’re still right here at the Mark Andrews International Airport. A few minutes ago a cheer rose up after the announcement came that the plane we’re waiting on is in the air and should be here within the next 60 minutes. The cafeteria/dining room/gift shop which is usually occupied by one or two other people is bursting at the seams and Dave’s on his third gin and tonic. Too bad they only have two choices of beer: Bud or Bud Light. I guess I'll wait until we arrive at our destination – and then get myself a pint.

Thanks for the inspiration Ashleigh and Carmyn!

I did it - last night at 10:30 I finished the scarf I thought would never end. For those of you that don't know the story it started sometime in November when Carmyn brought over some gray yarn, handed me some needles and said, "OK, now you're going to make a scarf." So I tried, and I tried and I tried. On our roadtrip to Arizona, I knit all the way through Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico. Unfortunately I kept adding stitches. Once I discovered that, I tried decreasing stitches - all resulting in a big hump on one side of the scarf. I was ready to leave it be, but when we made it to Sedona, Mom, without hesitation, took out row after row after row. There went Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas and New Mexico. Still, I plugged away until the same thing happened again. This time it was Carmyn who did the pulling out, but upon seeing my despair she then knitted back up to where I'd been. Then I stalled - for about a month. In the meantime, Carmyn went crazy - check out her blog for her creations. So, finally inspired, I overcame my knitting block and finished up. The picture on the left are all knit scarves and gloves: the gray one by me, one confetti one and matching gloves by Carmyn, and the two on the right by my 20 year old neice Ashleigh - she paved the way for all of us. Thanks for the inspiration Ash!

Valentine's Tradition

Each year at this time Sophie, Lucy and I head to my favorite coffee shop, The Urban Stampede, for hot chocolate, sweet treats and some intense valentine making. We started this when Sophie was in Kindergarten, last year Lucy joined us, and next year there will be four of us making valentines as John will be in Kindergarten. Nothing beats drinking hot chocolate, thinking about friends and family, and sneaking in a piece of chocolate candy every now and then. Happy Valentine's Day!

Favorite Book Series

Since first grade, Sophie has devoured the Geronimo Stilton books. They are the typical formulaic fiction that ultimately help kids take risks and become better readers - not unlike the Trixie Beldon books of my day. There's always the same constant set of characters that the reader comes to rely on; they provide a certain sense of predictability and stability that can be comforting to a reader. The Geronimo Stilton books are a bit different from other series novels because of their layout – they still have some pictures and the text font is, at times, colorful and whimsical.

Although Sophie is still sure to order a Geronimo Stilton book from any book order she’s more apt to dig through my baskets of children’s literature and pull something out from there to read. However, she’s begun sharing her love of Mr. Stilton with Lucy and John. For the past three nights they’ve cuddled up either in Lucy’s bed or by the fire as she’s read The Search for Sunken Treasure to them. Three kids cuddled by the fire, reading – what a wonderful sight.

Bathroom Pics

Finally, here are some pictures of the remodeled bathrooms. Although the second floor bathroom ended up being tighter than planned (No matter what they say, 6 -8 inches is a big deal!) this family of five is pretty happy to be back to more than one bathroom. The one with John in the bathtub is the second floor bathroom, the other is the attic master bedroom/bathroom. My favorite features are the heated tile floors in both bathrooms and the block window in the second floor one.


Dave and I have been loving our attic bedroom - it's great to wake up and get showered right away in the morning versus squeezing a shower in when there's time. As we've yet to figure out how to get a bed up there, we're still sleeping on the futon. Once we get the bed situation figured out, it'll be time to paint the staircase and the red dressers. For now, I'm taking a break from painting!

My Dogs are Killing Me

Dogs are what my friend Anna calls her feet; she’s about the only person I know who calls them that, but over the past few years, I’ve grown fond of the saying. So, I’ll repeat it, my dogs are killing me. We went to church this morning, attended a brunch hosted by a neighbor, and then spent the rest of the afternoon at a “Welcome Theo” (a three month old little cutie) party. Although there was some sporadic sitting, most of the day involved standing around talking with friends and catching up with my former university crowd. It was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday, but my feet just can’t take it anymore. I’ve given up running, I’ve given up walking, I’ve given up pilates, I’ve given up yoga, and now apparently, I should give up standing and gabbing.

After visits with two podiatrists, it seems I’ve got three big issues with my feet, particularly my right foot – neuoromas, hammer toes, and a bunion at the top of my foot. (I didn’t know there was such a thing.) About a year ago I had my first cortisone shot and I was thrilled with the results – for about three months until the pain came back, worse than ever. I went back to the podiatrist in December and we talked about surgery for January, but after x-rays decided to wait a bit and try out another cortisone shot since the last one worked so well. Not so much with this round – in fact there was hardly any relief at all. What to do, what to do? All I know is my feet hurt and at this particular moment, I think I would be willing to try anything to get some relief. Any ideas?

Uncouth Behavior

Don’t tell my mom this, but this morning I went to the YMCA in my pajamas. I have all kinds of excuses for this unbelievable behavior and none of them actually fit into the “lazy” category. BUT, if you were one of the few people who saw me at 7:15 this morning walking through the Y doors and into the women’s locker room, I do apologize. If you then saw me as I left the locker room and walked to my car an hour or so later, I also apologize to you. But to the six sleeping kids on the second and third floors of our house, I accept your thanks for letting you sleep in.

Trapeze Girls

Two summers ago my friend Carmyn and I were pulling down overgrown vines on the side of the house. She hates this kind of stuff but I always seem to “rope” her into helping me with household tasks. The vines were so stuck, so steadfast, that we thought it best to go ahead and do some swinging on them just to see if they’d hold our weight. Imagine the sight, two thirty-somethings swinging from vines yelling Tarzanisms.




Later, we pulled out a Barbie and hid her amongst the vines. Let’s just say she was a bit more successful at vine swinging than we were.

Then, last summer, we headed to Cass Lake to be with our friend Lori, her daughter Rachel, and Rachel's grandparents. They took us out to an island and an old rope up on a sand hill. I was thrilled, yet somewhat dismayed, to see the ease at which five, six, seven and eight year olds could manage the whole swinging thing. They looked as graceful as Barbie, but much more joyful and strong – as little girls should be. They’re the true trapeze girls.

Craft for Kids: Ziploc Bag Dryer

Here's our special version of the Ziploc Bag Dryer. As you can see, even a four year old can help put it together and it works beautifully. The idea came about when I saw one at Theresa's house. She knew I wanted one so she dug out her catalogue and handed it over. I was gung ho to order it until I saw the price tag - about $25 with shipping and handling. So my creative side went to work and came up with this concoction. The materials included a small clay pot, a styrofoam ball cut in half, wood dowels and acrylic paint. Put it all together and you have a Ziploc Bag Dryer. I had visions of putting together an assembly line and selling them at the local co-op, but really, the best part was watching John make it himself. Have a go!

I’ve Never Swallowed So Much Water…

I’ve never really been much into water aerobics – back in the day when I was really into cardio workouts I either ran 3 miles or did step aerobics. With my feet hurting so much for the past few years, I’ve tried lap swimming. There’s something so very soothing about sliding into the cool water and hearing muffled music, breathing, and small splashing. It may not sound like much to any big swimmers out there, but since January 1st I’ve worked myself up from 10 laps in thirty minutes to 20 laps in the same amount of time. My next goal is 25, then 30, and ultimately swimming for at least a full hour without stopping.

Today though, I tried the extreme opposite of lap swimming – water aerobics. The last time I did water aerobics was when I was about eight months pregnant with Sophie. At that time there was a lot of soothing water movement that felt awesome for a woman with a swollen belly. Even though it’d been ten years since the last experience, I was expecting the same type of class. When I first got into the pool Roxy, the instructor, asked me if I was a good swimmer. I confidently said, “Yes,” and thought I was in for a relaxing piece-of-cake hour of exercise. Not so - there was a whole lot of loud music, lots of leg kicking and splashing, and wave upon wave in the pool. I found myself panting for breath as I did the “crawl like a baby” for a length of the pool. As others barked during the doggy paddle, I choked on a wave of water that went right up my nose. While others smiled when Roxy yelled, “One more backstroke, then front. Five, four, three, two, one…” I grimaced and had flashbacks of childhood swimming lessons and the fear of drowning. The good news is I survived… and I do plan to go back on Thursday.

House of a Different Kind

I know the Christmas season is past, but I still wanted to show off these gingerbread houses the kids made with the Shorma cousins on Thanksgiving. Kylie was awesome at putting together the frames (Roxy and I, after trying one or two ourselves, quickly delegated that chore to her.) and guiding the process. I’m not sure what they thought was more fun – the decorating or the eating of the candy. Even last week, when the rooftops and red hot paths were covered in a fine layer of construction dust, the kids were asking when they could eat the houses. I told them for the umpteenth time they were not for eating, just for decorating and then, in a total act of cowardice, placed them in the trash while all the kids were at school. What would you have done?

Happy Birthday Lucy!

At 5 pm this afternoon Lucy called out, “I’m exactly 7 – hey everyone, I’m exactly 7 now!” Her enthusiasm, and that shown by her sister and brother, have been so uplifting today. It started at 6:30 with Sophie waking up John and then both of them headed downstairs to whip up some chocolate chip muffins for Lu. They picked the two biggest muffins of all and placed them on her special birthday plate (made in AZ over Christmas) and popped in two candles. Orange juice was poured and then Sophie came back upstairs to get me and see if she could wake up Lucy. As we playfully argued back and forth over who should get to wake her up, me or Sophie, we heard giggles at the bottom of the stairs – there was Lucy lapping it up. After the appropriate hugging and kissing and birthday wishes we all headed back downstairs to eat some muffins. The party continued afterschool with homemade pizza and birthday cake. One party down, one to go as she’ll celebrate with her friends and a sledding party on Saturday – hope for some snow and moderate temps for us!

7 Things to Know About Lucy

1. Her dimple on her right cheek is always there to see.
2. Uncle Mark gave her the name “Pinball” after a trip to San Diego in December, 2005. Apparently she totally resembled a pinball caught in a machine.
3. Her first name for Sophie was “Opie.”
4. When she was two, we made up stories in the car as we drove home from daycare. They usually started with “Once there was a girl named _____. She lived in _______. and then Sophie and Lucy filled in all the blanks. Lucy has been a storyteller ever since; we used to lay in the bottom bunk of the bunk bed and she’d tell me story after story.
5. The first book Lucy “published” was called “My School.”
6. Most Saturday mornings you can find Lucy and John playing with the Playmobil pirates and knights. They then get into character by dressing up as pirates.
7. Her legs are so long that when she runs she looks like a gazelle.

Bedhead

I’ve always been known to have bedhead – it doesn’t matter if I have long hair, medium length hair or super short spiky hair, bedhead has always been a part of who I am. Usually it doesn’t matter because it’s only family members who see my head for what it really is – a full smattering of cowlicks and white scalp beneath the black hair. Occasionally others gather a glimpse – the mail carrier, the flower delivery boy, another parent dropping her kids off at school, or a neighbor stopping by for coffee. Whenever this happens I immediately think of my mother. She was infamous for freaking out if the doorbell rang and she was dressed in garden gear or hadn’t combed her hair. She’d look at one of us four kids, all equally as disheveled as her, and yell at one of us to answer the door while she went upstairs to get cleaned up. It was then up to us to keep the doorbell ringer occupied for the next 5-10 minutes until Mom showed up in a perfectly pressed chambray shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up and hair and teeth freshly brushed. Whenever our bell rings before I’m properly attired, I panic, wondering who it is that might see me in this state or if there’s any way I can slink away to an upstairs window, unnoticed. About that time one of the kids throws open the door and welcomes the door ringer into our house. No escape for me, at least not this time.

Santa Letter

The picture says it all - have a Merry Christmas everyone!

Love, Marci, Dave, Sophie, Lucy and John

He lifted me up...

Quite a few years ago, when I was nine months pregnant with Lucy, Dave achieved all-star status as a husband... and all because of Leg Lifts by Origins. Throughout the entire pregnancy I had a bad case of restless legs and the only thing that seemed to help was a liberal amount of Leg Lifts rubbed onto my calves. This was all fine and dandy until I got to 36 weeks and found myself rapidly running out of the magic potion. As I was already 1 cm dilated I thought things would be fine and just vowed to use a little less cream each time. Then came 37 weeks, 38 weeks, 39 weeks... and 40 weeks. No baby in sight, hardly any cream left, and no Origins store within five hours of us. I was way too cheap to buy a whole new tube and pay shipping and handling when I didn't think I'd need it after the pregnancy was over, so I just kept suffering. But after one particularly intense leg rubbing experience, I was in tears - there was no relief from the small amount of cream and I was overdue. That night, while I restlessly slept, Dave went online and ordered Leg Lifts - and had it overnight expressed to our house. So, for the next ten days until Lucy finally made her appearance, I used up tons of cream and thanked Dave each and every time.

Wrinkly Carrots

Just when I have begun to have confidence in myself as a cook, things go wrong. Years ago Theresa provided me with a fail-proof recipe that tastes wonderful. It’s basically a 4-5 pound roaster chicken stuffed with 8-10 garlic cloves and a wedged lemon and baked for a few hours. With an hour left of cooking time, I add cut up potatoes and carrots and while the chicken is cooling enough to cut, I make gravy out of the drippings. It’s one of those meals that’s perfect for impressing friends and relatives… but not so Wednesday night. We wanted to eat by 5 pm so we could spend the rest of the evening attending Las Noches de las Luminarias at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix.

In preparation, I preheated the oven and stuffed the chicken by 2:15 and then went off to read a book. At 3:30 I put the vegetables in a different roasting pan and went back to my reading. At about 4:45 Bev alerted me that all was not well… that the chicken, in fact, was quite raw. It was then we all (by now it was quite the family affair) figured out it should have been cooked at 325 degrees rather than the 250 that I had set the oven. We turned up the heat, cooked the potatoes and carrots and the microwave, and waited to eat until 6. So much for an easy-to-prepare, delicious dinner.

Throughout dinner Bev exclaimed over and over again how wonderful the meal was, Sophie said her carrots tasted wrinkly, and I wanted to sink in my seat. Next time I think I’ll follow the recipe.

Sad News

This morning I recieved word that the father of my friend Alice passed away. He'd had such a long hard struggle and fought so very hard - from his brave and stubborn struggle and Alice's stories I wish I would have known him before a drunk driver took away so much of his life. In some ways, when a close friend or relative struggles with every breath or every step, it's easier to cope with their loss. But this just seems so unjust - in September, 2005 he was hit by a drunk driver as he came home from finishing things up at work. The driver escaped without harm and fled the accident while Boots struggled to live. That struggle went on while he was transferred to Craig Hospital in Denver which specializes in helping people with traumatic injuries. As he worked through weaning from a ventilator and all kinds of other therapy many people prayed and prayed for him. Finally, about 15 months after his accident, he was flown back home and everyone was full of joy. Within days he was back at ICU and life support was withdrawn last night. He worked so hard for such a very long time and we all just wanted him to get better. Let's celebrate his life and all the joy it brought and please, remember Alice and the rest of his family in your thoughts and prayers.

Introducing the GKids Travel Blog

Before we left for our two-week vacation I spoke with both Sophie and Lucy's teachers and we thought a journal chronicling their adventures would be a wonderful homework assignment. They've always been (Sophie a bit more than Lucy) interested in my blog so I brought up a blog idea to Sophie and Lucy and they thought it would be great to have their very own blog. In Sophie's entries, I've helped her upload the pictures but she's been the main photographer. She's also done most of the typing by herself. We're all set up in James and Bev's office so I get her going and then go drink some more coffee and chat with the grownups as she composes. When she's tired out, she dictates to me and I do the typing. With Lucy she dictates everything to me and reads over my shoulder. Sometimes she gets to talking so fast I have a hard time keeping up. John is eager to get going so we'll make sure to include some if his thoughts too. So, if you're wondering what we're up to, through the eyes of the children, here goes... check it out with the sidebar link or go directly to it at gkidstravel.blogstpot.com

Over the hills and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go...

“Through the door and down the stairs, by the pool and across the parking lot, over the rocks and down the sidewalk, to Grandmother’s house we go”

When we visit Grandma Bev and Grandpa James in Arizona we stay at the “guest” condo a few blocks away from their house. Two years ago when we last visited at Christmastime we made up the above verse to the popular tune. Sophie and Lucy immediately memorized it and it helped give them landmarks to find their way. They still sing it whenever we head to Grandma and Grandpa’s and last year they taught it to John. Yesterday morning it was wonderful to hear him say, “Let’s do the Grandma thing!” and hear a chorus of “Through the door and down the stairs, by the pool…”

Christmas in Arizona

After 30 hours of straight through driving, we made it to Arizona by 10:30 Saturday night. I’m proud to say I accomplished 1/10 of the driving and 9/10 of the supervision. The kids did a fantastic job thanks to a lot of drawing paper, a new Playmobil Santa and his sleigh, and movies. Barnyard, a recommendation from Sophie’s 3rd grade teacher, was most definitely the biggest movie hit. The treats from Bridget and JR (Thank you, thank you, thank you!) helped provide a sugar high when the driving got to be too much. Grandpa James and Grandma Bev helped finish polishing them off and now we’re all looking for the recipe for the brownie cupcakes with the cream filling (hint, hint). We’re enjoying our time here – watching the Santa bikers, swimming, hottubbing, and drinking mighty strong coffee. We hope this finds you taking some time for yourself too.

Ballerinas

Who would have thought that a husband and wife team with four left feet could create some dancers? Not I! I gave jazz a try in highschool and was self conscious for every single minute, not to mention that I was totally off beat with all the other dancers. To this day I still cringe when I hear "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown." Dave, as well, is no dancing machine.

Sophie, Lucy and John love dancing - whether it's just around the living room floor to Shrek's CD or with their dance classes. Last night they both performed in the North Dakota Ballet Company's Holiday Show When You Believe. The smiles on their faces throughout each dance routine were unforgettable. Although we've had an extremely busy week with dance classes and show rehearsals, it all seems worth it.

So, if you're in town tonight, head to the Empire Theater at 7:30 pm to watch dancers from three to the mid-twenties dance their hearts out. You'll be glad you did.

Building Aggravation or “Careful, I’m in a Foul Mood as I write this.”

What is it with some men that they think they are the world’s greatest gift to all of the rest of us peons. I’ve put up with two electricians for three days and, even though they seem to have done great work, I know I’ll never have them back. In fact, I complained to my general contractor about their attitude. Disclaimer: My general contractor and most everyone else he hired have been wonderful. Not so for the electricians; one man in particular “checked” me out each and every time he walked by – this wasn’t even a subtle eye appraisal, rather it was a full-blown head to toe and head to toe once again. The first time I had just gotten dressed and wondered if I’d forgotten to put my shirt on. The second time I thought, “Man, this guy must be hard up if he’s checking me out.” And for every time since then, I’ve made sure to look him right in the eye so that when he gets to my face, which I’m not sure if he actually ever will, he sees that I know exactly what he’s up to.

The second guy is a charmer – acts all polite but you just have the feeling that the second you walk away he’s up to no good. He’s the one I complained to this morning when they kept flipping breakers without telling me. I politely said, “You know, you really should let me know before you flip any breakers – I’m going to be working on the computer so just let me know and I’ll save what I’m working on.” About three hours later, as I was writing a blog entry about knitting, one of the electricians headed down the stairs. I quickly copied my work, went to open Word to paste in the entry and save it but before I could even get Word open, the electrician flipped the breaker. One cuss word later, he was up the stairs where I greeted him in a not-so-polite manner. He was apologetic, but come on … all I asked for was a two-minute notice of when the breaker would be flipped. It really shouldn’t be so hard.

Another thing that bugged me is that there doesn’t seem to be any common courtesy on their part. This morning I got groceries after dropping the kids off. I carried in six bags from the car at one time right as the “check me out” guy came out the backdoor for his cigarette break. He said “Hi,” again not looking me in the eye and continued to walk past me. Uh , ok, let me just get the doors all by myself as you sit and enjoy your cigarette. It’s not like I was asking him to bring in the groceries and then put them away… I pretty much had my hands full and could have used a little help with the door, that’s all.

OK, now that I’m done complaining, maybe I can get back to the knitting entry and try to recreate it. Trust me – it’ll be more enjoyable to read than this one!

Today I am 40

Today I am 40 – but in the sense of Sandra Cisnero’s wonderful essay "Eleven" (Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories). I am not just forty but rather a combination of all the ages that have added to this. There’s the three year old in me who, when I’m wheezy or sick, wants to be held and comforted. Sometimes I feel like the eleven year old who raced back and forth across the infield of the track, cheering on all the runners – hooting and hollering for my sisters and every other runner. At times, I am still like the thirteen year old who tries to put on the “I don’t care what anybody thinks” attitude to the world outside but on the inside wants approval. I can still be the eighteen year old “know it all” who thinks life is just waiting to be handed to me and the nineteen year old who realizes, upon the sudden death of a friend, that life isn’t something to be taken for granted. Some days I’m like the self-centered twenty nine year old who would get frustrated when the day got too busy and at the end of it still didn’t have time to go running. Other days I’m like the thirty five year old mother of three children four and under who is so darn happy to have just taken a shower while all three kids napped. Some days I have the confidence of the twenty year old who saw her future husband playing volleyball and on the way home told a friend, “I think Dave G… should date me.” Then there’s times when I recall the sobs of a thirty four year old – the sobs that almost could be mistaken for laughter if the listener didn’t know better – and I remember the sense of loss and the building back of love and am so thankful that today I am 40. I’m three and I’m five and I’m fifteen. I’m twenty and twenty seven and thirty two. I’m thirty five and thirty six and thirty nine. I’m all of these, but today I am 40.

Breadmaking

I've been trying my hand at homemade bread - with varying degrees of success. For a while I was sure it was my Sunbeam mixer and believed that if I only had a brand new KitchenAid Professional Mixer things would be on the rise... especially my bread. After weeks of trying to justify spending between $200 and $300 on a new mixer when the 15 year old Sunbeam works just fine for every other baking need, I got over my impulse and set to work on figuring out just how to make good bread. Turns out the Sunbeam directions have a few recipes and when I tried them out they were delicious. At least I thought so. Not so with our five year old. John, upon trying a piece of beautifully browned, just-from-the-oven piece of bread, said, "I don't really like it; it's just too... homemade." Poor guy - having to eat homemade bread.