Merry Merry

We celebrated several days of Christmas this year. Ben sister came down from Seattle, and waited with us until Scooter flew into town. We all went to pick her up at the airport, and had a jolly afternoon opening presents, eating, and skyping with Ben's parents. Scooter got several crafty crafts (which she was very excited about), as well as a solar-powered garden light. Bubba received several pieces of track and Skarlowey for train fun. From us, they each got 3 gifts: a sleeping bag (mountain hardware bag that's actually rated better than mine), a pillow pet (dolphin for Scooter, frog for Bubba), and a child-specific gift. Scooter received a ski helmet that she can decorate to make her own. Right now, it's a plain black, but I'm sure she'll put some fun stickers on it. Bubba got a leapfrog alphabet game. It turns out, he's smarter at his letters than we had originally thought. I also opened several gifts including a new camera (HD video and clearer photos will surely follow), a sweater and scarf, and slippers to keep my tootsies warm. The slippers I got a couple of years ago had huge holes in the bottoms. My feet had been freezing this winter. Poor Ben had nothing to open. The kids and I got him a new camera body (and kit lens) for Christmas, but we let him open and use it early. So he's been enjoying his Christmas present for nearly a month, now. I think he's ok with that, but it sure made for an uneven gift pile on Christmas.

Yesterday, after we yanked the kids away from the gifts that Santa brought (MORE trains and track! Skis and boots!), we drove down to Ben's aunt and uncle's house for a wonderful day of family and fun. As always, they were wonderful hosts, and the kids (quite literally) tore their house apart. I always cringe a little when I mentally compare what their house looked like when we arrived vs what it looks like when we leave. Even after helping them pick up, it seems we manage to leave a tornado trail in our wake. Hopefully, my sister's kids will do the same for us someday. :)

Today, Ben and the kids took a trip over to the Columbia store. Based on the looks of the tree swaying outside my window at work, they went just in the nick of time. Bubba and Scooter each got some warm mittens (or gloves) which they will wear when we go skiing/sledding/hiking in the cold. Bubba also got a new hat that hopefully won't leave marks on his noggin. And because I have the most thoughtful husband around, they also picked me up some waterproof boots and a softshell jacket with a hood. I will now be the best dressed member of my family (up from worst-dressed just yesterday). For my next trick, I'll talk Ben into buying a new house! ha ha ha.

But really, I walk outside 2 miles (at least) per day 5 days per week. Luckily, it's been a really dry winter so far, but if it had been a normal December, my feet (and body) would have been soaking wet too often. I would have been sad. The forecast for this week (and the forseeable future) is wet. I'm happy to have dry feet and a warm torso. The fleece/jacket combo I currently wear is a combined 27 years old. It'll be nice to step out of the house into the 21st century, jacket-wise, tomorrow. I'll have to take pictures of my new gear with my new camera tonight. I still need to learn how to get the photos off the camera onto the computer. I'll have to learn that skill before we head to Canada this weekend. Can't wait!

Still Harping on the Working Mom thing...

I often wonder about our national, state and local policies surrounding children and families. I understand that the economy is important. The bottom line is important. Making money and controlling costs is important. I get all of that. But I don't think that taking care of families and children has to be exclusive of sound financial decisions. For one thing, let's think about what is good for the future of our country and our world.

 

1. A healthy population.

2. An educated population.

 

In my mind, those are the 2 really important things to think about. One might argue that national defense is up there, but I tend to disagree. There are a few countries out there that are fairly prosperous w/o huge defense budgets. Also, in an environment such as the one we find ourselves in today, a huge standing army with lots of tanks and planes is not necessarily going to protect us from the hijackers that crash planes into buildings. As it stands, Defense is a full 20% of our national budget. Medicare is 21%. Social security is 20%. 

 

 

 

Blah blah blah, bottom line is, does it bother anyone else that less is spent on education than is spent on benefits to current and former federal employees? It bothers me. A lot. Because every school district I know of is wrestling with how to do more on a smaller budget.

 

I'm not so naive as to think that we as a nation can magically come up with an answer where we all pay fewer taxes and get more from our government. Clearly, reform needs to be made. But why aren't we cutting the heavy hitters: defense, social security, medicare just as much as we are the things that will help our country maintain its standing in the world? I work at a place in which budgets for medicare can mean the difference between laying off employees or growing the organization, but I feel that the status quo is not working. After all of that spending, America is not healthier today than we were 20 years ago. So we need to focus our spending on ways to improve health - parks and recreation areas inside urban development sites, regulation on pollutants, infrastructure - with more mass transit opportunities, there is less of a need to rely on cars, etc.

 

And, last but not least, let's focus on families. Let's support families when they are making choices about their children and their lives. Let's not ding moms who choose to stay at home with their kids, and let's REALLY not ding moms who take an hour off here and there to spend time with their kids. Jobs are important - they give us the funds we need to live in today's society - but they aren't our kids. So in conclusion, go families!

This makes me wonder why we don't get paid maternity in America

 

 

always a dull moment

I've been busy as all get out, and yet I really have nothing to show for it. Scooter's been gone since Saturday. She gets back on Sunday. We're way over half way there. I'm excited to see her again. I think we're planning on heading down to Ben's aunt and uncle's house for the Monday after Christmas. Hopefully, they'll let us do the cooking. I'm pretty sure I can do most of it ahead of time (we're having fiesta!), but I'm a little worried about the rice and chili. Fiesta is a meal that my mom used to make occasionally, when we would have a group of people over. It's a pretty easy meal, and if you actually eat it with all the ingredients included, it's surprisingly delicious. You pile it all on your plate in the following order. Be warned: if you make your base too big, you'll never be able to finish what ends up on your plate.

1. Fritos
2. Rice
3. Chili
4. Cheese
5. Lettuce
6. Tomatoes
7. Onions
8. Green Olives
9. Coconut
10. Walnuts
11. Hot Sauce

I always thought there were 12 ingredients (or maybe even 13), but the list I have has 11, and I can't remember what might be missing, so I guess it's 11. I'm thinking we'll make the chili ahead of time, but bring a crock pot to re-heat it in. Also, we'll be bringing the big rice cooker and the "good" rice. I hope it's not a disaster.

So anyway, I thought that with Ben having most of the week off, we'd get more done. I was wrong. Well...not really, I guess. It's just that other things are getting done, and Ben's been spending his days away from the house. So my routine is, sadly, the same as normal: up, ready, boy ready, breakfast, work, home, dishes, dinner, dishes, boy bed, veg out, me bed. At least I haven't had to worry about swim lessons and homework in there as well. Some day it'll all get easier. And more exciting. In the meantime, I'll continue to stress about appeals, potential shake up on the employment front, and the everyday nonsense of being me.

Dance-dance revolution

Not much going on these days. Ben and I are beginning to realize why Scooter sometimes gets sick of her little brother. Those two play together so well most days, but sometimes, she complains that he's demanding. After four days of him saying, "mommy/daddy! Play with me!!" I get it. Because you'll sit down to play with him, and he dictates the play down to what car you get, and what, exactly, you do with said car. Tonight, we had a dance party. We danced for about 15 minutes before I replaced the batteries in my camera to film. The only reason why we stopped was because Ben came home with some dinner for us.

Of all the things to get mad about

So, I probably did a bad thing today. I re-read the appellant brief that the ex's lawyer sent to the appeals court. I know it's ridiculous for me to do so, but I'm kind of obsessing over this. Today, I got notice of a hearing for Jan 9th. Not for the appeal, but for a stupid little thing that is basically a clerical error in the "original" modification order. The word, "plaintiff" was missing from the paragraph where the ex is supposed to mail me a copy when he submits to the clerk of court. Also, even though it's in the original order, we're placing more emphasis on his requirement to provide supporting documentation for his claims in his affidavit. Generally, one wouldn't think that it would be necessary, but considering he claimed over $1200 for October's travel when less than $750 is actually authorized, well, you get the idea. And yes, affidavits are sworn statements. So anyway, apparently their side is not approving the clerical correction, so we're actually going to have a hearing on the matter. And this time, we're asking for attorney's fees.

Ok. But what really is getting my panties in a bunch today is one sentence in the appellant brief. It goes like this: "Lori did testify that her employment in Omaha had a high rate of turnover, however, she had been at the company for six years; and had continued to receive yearly raises, even after taking 12 weeks off to have a baby (not at issue herein)." Seriously?! SERIOUSLY?! I shouldn't be allowed to look for new employment (or move out of state) because I should have been happy in a place that fired people every quarter? Let me break down the craptastickness of that sentence.

1. I took off 8 weeks, 4 of which were unpaid. During my 8 weeks "off," I was in semi-regular contact with the office.

2. 2 years of my "yearly raises" were not merit raises, but cost of living.

3. 1 acronym: FMLA. It's this little federal law, which kind of guarantees me the right to take up to 12 weeks off w/o fear of job loss.

And in case you missed it earlier, I DID NOT TAKE 12 weeks off. I fought tooth and nail for 8, and didn't really even get that. And since when am I to be penalized for being a good employee and a mom? Only when it's a custody dispute.

So, yeah, my dander's up. Sorry about that. I just think that it's totall BS that a man would point out that I took time off work to push a baby out of my uterus and then bond with it. On the one hand, I'm a terrible person for yanking her child away from her dad. On the other, I'm a terrible person for actually bonding with my children. Did YOU take a SINGLE DAY off when YOUR daughter was born? Maybe one. Does all of that working make you a better dad with a stronger bond with his kid? Probably not.

Yet another Evening Activity

So it just became harder for me to keep up my blog everyday. You see, I work in an IT shop. Therefore, the tools I use to do my job are on the verge of obsolescence. For example, my web browser. We JUST upgraded to IE 7. For those of you "in the know," there are currently 2 more recent versions out there, with IE 10 on the way. Long story short, my blog no longer supports the browser that I have at work. Also, I work in a majorly regulated environment. There are state and federal regulations surrounding pretty much everything I do. So, it's not like I can just download Chrome to my work computer and call it good. For now, I'm getting around this by emailing myself my blog text, in the hopes that I'll copy it over every night. Otherwise, I have a little journal right here in email. You see, I've pretty much quit journaling since I started blogging. Maybe this will be the wake up call I need to start hand-writing a journal, again.

Anyway, let me tell you about my weekend. It was interesting. Kind of.

Saturday, Scooter was scheduled to fly back to Omaha to spend a week with her dad. Since we're terrible procrastinators, we needed to run to the Adidas store to get her cousin's Christmas present before her flight. So...we got up, ate waffles and sausage, and headed out to the store while Ben went to jiujitsu. Although Bubba is perfectly capable of walking for hours on end, we opted to use a stroller - more for child restraint and mother sanity than anything else. We went into the store, picked out a present for Gunnar, a couple of pairs of shorts, a couple of shirts, and then headed over to the shoe department in order to shod my children's feet. On the way there, I ran into someone I know from work. We chatted a minute, then continued onto the shoes.

1st stop: Bubba's size. Think of a capital H. The front entry-way is the lower leg on the right. The men's is up that way, the women's is the whole top of the H, the kids' and some men's is the horizontal line, and the shoes is the lower left leg of the H. The children's shoes are the inside wall of the lower leg on the left. Bubba (of course) wanted the exact same shoes that he already has (just a little bigger). Mom was pushing for some shoes with velcro. It's about time he start learning to put on and take off his own shoes. I won out. The velcro shoes had yellow on them. Bubba will opt for yellow every time. I let him get out of his stroller to measure his foot and try on his shoes.

Last stop: Scooter's sized shoes. The very bottom of the left leg of the H. Between Bubba's size and Scooter's size along the wall is a door. It leads out to the entry-way on the bottom right leg of the H. It has one of those long door knobs that toddlers love. You know...the ones that turn a door-knob, but they actually have a handle. So if you're too short/have small hands, you can still kind of hang off of it to open it? Yeah. That one. The other thing that door had was a sign that read, "Warning: This door is alarmed. Only open door in case of emergency." Bubba is learning his letters, but he doesn't know how to read. Refusing to get back into his stroller, I was struggling with measuring Scooter's foot and picking out shoes, but so far, we were managing. Scooter was just trying on her first shoe, when I saw Bubba out of the corner of my eye heading for the door. I stopped him. I looked him in the eye and said, "No, Bubba. That is not our door. It will make a loud sound, and you will be in trouble if you touch that door. Do you understand?" I've been adding the "do you understand?" part to the end of a lot of what I tell Bubba lately. It worked like a charm when Scooter was that age. If she acknowledged that she understood what I was saying, she wouldn't do it. Bubba is still learning.

Scooter's shoe was slightly too small. I turned to look for the next size, when I heard the alarm. Panic and horror filled my body. I looked at the door, which was open. I wondered if Bubba had run through the door and whether I'd have to retrieve him. My eyes scanned around, and I found him inside the door, looking at me. When he caught my eye, he knew he was in trouble. He sat on the floor, and put his head down on his legs. I pulled the door shut, and the alarm stopped a second later. I was mortified!!! Bubba was pretty embarrassed as well. I told him that he'd have to get into his stroller for check out. He agreed. Nobody in the store even batted an eye. No sales person came over to make sure we weren't running out of the building with all of our merchandise, no parent gave us dirty looks for disrupting their otherwise peaceful shopping experience (actually, that place is always a madhouse...people might not have noticed).  Whew! We ran up to the check out line, caught the next open register, and got the heck out of there. I'd like to say never to return, but who am I kidding? With deals like those, I'll be back soon. Maybe even before this current pass expires.

weekend post

I don't know if you've noticed, but I never (and by "never," I mean rarely) blog on the weekends. Not because they're particularly busy (although they are), but mostly because I don't have my computer on much during the weekend. I'm on a computer all week for my job. It's nice to "unplug" for a moment on the weekends. This weekend, I've already been "on" to skype with my mom, and I promised a much delayed post with videos from Scooter's Christmas program. Scooter is, at this moment, flying high over the Rockies on her way to Omaha, I assume. Actually, she might be in Denver right now. But she's got quite a layover in Denver - she doesn't leave to continue onto Omaha until 7:55 mountain time. She was excited about this trip. I hope she has a good time.

Anyway, below is a video of Scooter's school program. She stayed in for a month's worth of recesses to rehearse for the Hanukkah song dance. Midway through, she wanted to quit, but I wouldn't let her. All's well. She was glad she stuck it out and got to perform. She might be painfully shy and quiet, but she does love giving a good performance when she thinks she's anonymous out there.

 The only other video I took that night was of my favorite Christmas song ever, Carol of the Bells. I hope that one loads a little quicker.

Also, Mom made the kids some pillow cases for Christmas. They are AWESOME!! Big enough to actually fit a pillow, and soft while still feeling sturdier than a normal pillow case that comes with kids sheets. Plus, as an added bonus, the kids loved them.

Frazzle Rock

I know, I know. It's Fraggle Rock. But these past few weeks, I've been totally frazzled. I'm going to blame the heightened activity level of the holiday season. Everytime I think we're getting a leg up on our daily lives, I realize that something else has fallen through the cracks. This week, it was math homework. I often wonder how other families do it. I don't really believe that Ben and I are total slouches (well...I don't believe Ben's a total slouch), and yet, we cannot keep a handle on everything that needs to be done each week.

Monday started out well (it always seems like our week starts off to a fair start). Scooter had her speech that day, so she spent most of her before school time practicing that. Tuesday was swim lessons. Scooter worked on her reading as well as practicing geography (passport club was Thursday!). Wednesday, Scooter forgot her homework folder at school, plus Bubba had his Christmas recital (see video on yesterday's blog). We still managed to cram in all the countries and capitals that Scooter needed. Thursday, I volunteered for passport club, which gave me reason to drive to work. The 1:30 (that's one HOUR, thirty MINUTE) drive home gave me reason to never drive to work again. Plus, yesterday was the last swim lesson of the block. In lessons past, that meant a coupon for a free ice cream cone from the Beaverton Dairy Queen. Last night, it did not.

So we rushed home to change and get ready for bed. And then we went to bed. And then this morning, I got an email from Ben that Scooter's math homework was a complete mess, and he wasn't sure she'd have time to fix it before school. ARGH!!! I forgot math!!! But seriously? That girl has mountains of homework each week. Sure, there's more on some days than others. And sure, we make her do extra (like writing every day, and actually studying for passport club, and reading specific books for battle of the books), but I'd say she averages an hour per night. In THIRD GRADE!!!??? I can't remember ever having that much homework. Even in highschool, I managed to weazle out of an hour per night. We have to eat. And go to swim lessons. And bathe. And clean our rooms. How do other families do this? How is America holding it all together? I already get up 45 minutes before everyone else in the house. Scooter even gets up an hour and a half before she has to walk out the door in the morning. Do we just move in slow motion? Of course, I act all incredulous when everyone knows I'm sitting on the couch, eating popcorn, drinking a beer and watching TV everynight for an hour. Apparently, it'd be an hour better spent reviewing Scooter's homework.

Cascabelles, cascabelles...

Last night was Bubba's christmas program at his preschool. Which reminds me - I still need to post photos/video from Scooter's program last Thursday. Forgive me for my tardiness. I'll try to work on that this weekend. I have a lot of "to dos" this weekend, after Scooter flies out with her dad. Finish up Christmas shopping, head to adidas (employee store access!!), shop at the columbia store (employee store access!!), work on blog, etc, etc, etc. I'm sure with only one kid in the house, I'll have a TON of time on my hands. ha ha ha... *sigh*

Anyway, last night. Bubba was tired. He was grumpy. He had at least 1 accident. He refused to really eat dinner. Program started at 6. We got there at 5:57. He had spent 3 of the 4 minute drive in a tantrum about an umbrella. Ben wondered aloud if Bubba would even make it up on stage, or if he'd spend the whole time sitting in our laps. Ben needn't have worried. We were too late to have seats, anyway.

By the time we fought our way through the crowd into daycare, all the kids were already consolidated into one room. We walked Bubba over, and I noticed the kid with gelled hair sobbing into one of Bubba's teacher's shoulders. Oh dear... We found a place to stand along the wall, and the Pre-K, Pre-School II, and Pre-School I (Bubba's class) filed out. Bubba was front and center. The teachers busied themselves lining the kids up, then one of them announced the beginning of the show - they were going to do 5 songs, another one rang a bell, and they all started singing. The Pre-K and Pre-School II kids sang the loudest. Bubba stood in the center of the front row, and looked around like he was in trouble. The kid who we've banned from singing at the table because he was too loud and disruptive was as quiet as a mouse. Ben and I began to worry that he'd have a potty training accident in front of the 50+ parents and other spectators. We wondered if he couldn't find us (even though we smiled and waved as he filed by). We wondered if he was going to start crying.

After the first two songs, the Pre-School I kids got to sit down. I think they only rehearsed 2 songs: We Wish you a Merry Christmas and Jingle Bells. The daycare practiced in front of other daycare kids throughout the week. I would take him into school, and other kids would come up and tell him what a good job he did during practice the day before. Hm...based on this video, I'd say he's much more interested in performing in front of peers.

After that panic-stricken performance, we were treated to these two on the way home.

That last one is a dark one, but it's just so sweet the way he says, "New Yeeoooh...."

Hope you saved the receipts for Christmas...

I received a depressing "happy holidays" email from the CEO earlier this week. Like...really depressing. Foreboding, even. That was followed up yesterday by "the talk" by my director to the rest of my portion of the department. There will be some severe lay offs made by March. Like...16% of non-care providers. Normally, I'd be freaking out. As it is, I'm pretty comfortable. First off, I have 2 certifications which make me very marketable in the industry right now. Secondly, I look around and can see a number of people who should be laid off before me. Lastly, my manager pretty much loves me. I think worst case is, I'll be re-purposed w/in the department. Best case, I jump ship for a higher paying job. :) It's sad, though. This is a really great company to work for, and a place I'm proud of. So...if you're a healthcare provider with Epic and are in need of a clarity certified report writer and are willing to pay more than $70k per year, leave me a comment. Otherwise, say a prayer for me.

I've had a number of people comment on how much this sucks in light of the sacrifices my family has made in order for us to come out here. I agree. I wonder if managers and department heads take sob stories into account when making these decisions. If they did, they'd be hard pressed to find a sobbier story than me.

Tewsday

Today is "Tewsday"! Bubba is learning the days of the week in preschool. I'm pretty sure Tuesday is his favorite one to say, and Saturday is his favorite day to live. Pretty much every morning, I'm greeted with, "It's Tewsday!" When I say, "No, it's XXXXday." He responds with, "It's Saturday". *sigh* I wish, kid...

Mornings have been going better ever since I resigned myself to being late to work everyday. People here haven't said anything to me, although I know they notice when I get in, and the fact that I leave when they do (or slightly before, a lot of times). But hey, I work hard, and so far, I haven't had any complaints. It's just a little counter to my normal way of work. One of these days, though, I'll probably have to stay until 5.

Today, though? I'm heading over to the dept holiday pot luck and then I'm going home.

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...

First of all, it's been under 37 degrees every morning for over a week. That is FREEZING. Well...on the lower end it's freezing. Today was 30. It has been so cold in the mornings because it hasn't rained in weeks. December is usually a dreary, cloudy, rainy month. Not this year. It's been clear and beautiful, but the trade off, of course, is the cold weather in the morning. And even though this causes me some discomfort during my walk into work every morning, I'm still walking into work every morning. Because it's actually pretty nice (sunny, the birds are singing, etc), which is way better than fighting traffic everyday.

We've been slowly getting ourselves into the Christmas state. Thanksgiving weekend, the traditional time when Christmas decorations and trees get put up around America came and went. Scooter was with her dad that weekend, so we waited until Monday evening to put our tiny tree up. The following weekend, we actually put decorations on it and put our stockings up. The next weekend was just this past one. To celebrate, we made sugar cookies. I've never made Christmas cookies before. I've done almond bark pretzels in past years, but never sugar cookies. I thought it'd be a nice way for the kids and I to build a Christmas memory in Oregon. Last year was a pretty crappy year (keep in mind that the first day of trial - which we had thought would be a one day trial - was on December 13th). So this year was our chance to start some Oregonian traditions with both kids. So that meant cutting out sugar cookies and decorating them together. I used my sister's recipe, but substituted whole wheat flour rather than all purpose flour, which made our sugar cookies look more like gingerbread cookies than regular sugar cookies. They're also a little...I don't know....grittier than a normal sugar cookie? Chewier? I can't quite put my finger on it. Other than that, though, they are pretty awesome. And I joked w/ Ben that the ones that didn't get frosting on them (we ran out about 80% of the way through) were "low carb." So...yay to us for making the world's healthiest sugar cookie. Don't you worry...there was still a pound of butter in them and almost as much sugar as "healthy" flour.

We're planning on continuing our "quick trip" tradition from last year. Last year, we went with just Bubba to the coast for a couple of days (we stayed in room 111 on 1/1/11!). This year, we're *hopefully* going to Vancouver, BC for a couple of days. We have the passports, no problem. I'm just a tad concerned about the notarized document allowing me to travel out of the country w/ Scooter. We'll see. Maybe we'll all be in the Christmas spirit this year (ha ha ha). Hmmm...

Stress

Today's the anniversary of the historic bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. You know...the incident that lead to America joining World War II. According to some, my last name would require that I apologize today. But I'm not going to.

We got Scooter's report card yesterday. In grown-up terms, she's failing writing. As in, she does not meet the standard. Luckily, I knew that was coming, and we've been working on that (REALLY HARD) for a couple of weeks, now. And we're actually seeing improvment. Goal is to be awesome by the spring. That was a little stressful, but I've had worse.

Today, in fact, was worse. I got the ex's appellant brief in my email inbox this morning. Super awesome. It came while I was in a meeting in which 3 of my 4 proposals got denied pending further testing by me. The other one, I had withdrawn from the meeting at the last minute, anyway. Whoopsie! So yeah. Anything lawyerly related gets my stomach in knots and my heart in a panicked state. So today has kind of been horrific. But my head knows, after reading (and re-reading, and re-reading) the brief that we've got this thing in the bag. Unless we don't (hence, the panic attacks).

Do you know what I do to make my day better when I have days like this? I read the judge's opinion and ruling. It's very thoughtful, well-written, and (this is the best part) it goes in my favor. The amount of case law he pulled in to back up his decision is comforting to read, especially when everything else seems to be attacking me personally.

Brrr!

I started this yesterday, but never finished. So I'll revise to make it sound like I wrote it today. It was COLD yesterday. When I took Bubba to daycare, the car said the outside temp was 26 degrees. He had a hat and mittens on. I had gloves on. There was frost everywhere (except for some reason, my car, which is parked in an open air - but covered parking space was frost-free). The sky was completely clear. Lovely to look at. Horrible to walk in. It was noticeably warmer in Portland, where there was dense fog.

Today, there was fog in Beaverton and clouds in Portland. I think the car said it was 6 or 7 degrees warmer. There was still frost on the ground, but it wasn't too bad, really. I especially don't mind the cold weather because the dirt trail shortcut that I like to take to and home from the train is now frozen enough to walk on. It's generally only a summer trail, as the rains of fall, winter and spring generally deter me from walking on a dirt (mud) path with work pants on.

But I digress. As I was walking yesterday, I was convinced that Oregon had usurped Nebraska's cold temperatures. I've been trolling msn.com for weather updates from the midwest. Imagine my surprise to see that our high temperatures have been very similar so far this year. Granted, the lows in NE are much lower than the lows in OR, but the high temps have been pretty nice back east. So after my 25 degree walk into work, I logged on to check out Omaha's weather. I was delighted to see that their "current temp" (which would have been 2 hours after my walk into work time) was 16 degrees. Their low was 3, their high was 24. Whew. This move really was a good idea, and I'm happy to report that today's current temp is 20 degrees warmer.

Even so, we're cold at our house. We've finally gotten the space heater out (before bed only), and we have turned the heat on in the kids' room (overnight only), but it's still probably in the low 60s in our house at any given time. The kids are learning the power of blankets and sweaters, I hope.

We went to the zoo on Sunday for a playdate with Bubba and a friend from preschool. We've been asking Bubba about this friend, since his parents contacted us about a playdate. Bubba seemed disinterested in this particular boy, but he did say that he liked the boy's mom. She comes everyday after lunch to pick up her son. They seemed like a really nice family. Hopefully we left an OK impression with them. The zoo was cold, so there were very few people there. We spent a good deal of time looking at the lions and the polar bears. There is a "conservation" exhibit near the polar bears that shows carbon footprints from the average American, the average person in an industrialized nation, the average person worlwide and the goal average world wide. It was striking. And disappointing. The average American is nearly twice the average for an industrialized nation. Yipes. It also had 10 ways to conserve. Turning down the heat is one of them (as is taking mass transit), so Scooter really thinks we're doing our part. She's probably right. But that means that there are some people with even bigger carbon footprints than our family. It's scary.

Anyway, Bubba had a very good time w/ his friend, and now he wants to hang out with that boy again. I think that would be fun. Maybe we'll choose an indoor venue next time.

What a day dad had.

Have you ever read Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss? It's a pretty great book. It uses simple words that rhyme in funny scenarios that a kid can understand. Both my kids love that book (well...maybe Scooter not as much anymore), and I remember it as being one that I used when I was learning to read. So anyway, there's a part that goes something like this, "Dad is Sad. His day was bad. What a bad day dad had." I might be wrong, but you get the gist. Anyway, the picture that goes along with those sentences is kind of like what I felt like this morning.

It started last night as I was falling asleep. I probably woke Ben up with my exclamation of distress. I had forgotten our CSA shipment yesterday. Veggies get delivered to my workplace at 3pm, and I have until 7pm to pick them up before they get donated to a homeless shelter. Needless to say, if I remembered as I was falling asleep last night, we didn't get the veggies. But I'm happy to say that I donated a weeks' worth of veggies (for a family of 3.5) to some homeless this holiday season, even if I didn't do it on purpose.

So this morning, I missed my new #1 train, and had to take #2. It wasn't too busy (yay!), but it was late (boo!). Also, the electronic sign that tells me when the train will come also told me that I'll have to take a shuttle tonight for 1/2 of my trip. In my experience, that greatly slows my commute. Bummer. I trekked into work and positioned myself in front of the coffee caraffe for some warmth and happiness. It was empty. So was the tub from which we scoop our coffee. I went about finding, refilling and then making the coffee. When I got back to my desk, I realized I had forgotten my work shoes. I have to wear my hiking shoes all day today. Normally, I'd keep my head down and bear it, but today we're having our make-up all hands meeting with the CIO (chief information officer...my boss' boss' boss). I usually try to have the appearance of professionalism during those things. Oh well.

I'm about to call the clerk of court about the ex's child support abatement for his travel in October. Even though it's in the court order, this will be the 2nd month in a row that he has not sent me a copy of his affidavit OR his reciepts from his expenses. So I'll have to call the ol' lawyer, too, I'm sure. I haven't gotten a bill from my man for November. I usually get them around the 20th of the month, but I'm guessing with Thanksgiving in there, it's late? Maybe they'll grant me a reprieve. Doubtful. So, yeah. Thanks, mom, for the "anything" money for Thanksgiving. It's exactly one month's lawyer payment! We're living it up in Portland...

Oops. Bad mom

I missed a day yesterday. Scooter didn't, though. Whew. I'm just not that good with solidarity, I guess. I did take off of work at 1pm to take her to a dr. appointment. 50th percentile for height, 58th for weight. She had a 5 pound weight gain in the past 6 months without much height gain, so I think she's due to sprout up. I'm happy about that, since she didn't grow at all for a year at her dad's. Yippie! But...based on her current height and the short amount of growth in the current pediatrician's system, the doctor estimates that Scooter will be 5'4" fully grown. I'm thinking that she'll probably be taller, but it was nice to declare that she'll never be taller than her mother. Of course, I'm not taller than my mother, either.

Last night was swim lessons night, which means we were busy. Scooter and I were at the doctor's office from 1:40-3:20. We came home, and I logged back in to work. I had left at 1 to pick Scooter up, so I kind of needed to make up a couple of hours. Ben came home shortly after that with Bubba, and made plans to go to the park. By 4, we were "ready" to go. Scooter and I walked, Bubba rode his bike, Ben met us up there later. We rode around the park once before attacking the play area. We didn't stay long, and for the 3rd time in a row with Bubba, he was cool with leaving when I said it was time. He just slid down the slide, put on his helmet, and off he rode.

By 5, I was coaxing the little man into his seat for dinner. We have to leave around 5:45 in order to drive to swim lessons, change, and get in the pool by 6. SOOO nice. In Omaha, we'd have to leave at 5:30 and already be in our suits before we left the house. Bubba and I had our mommy and me lesson, and Ben brought Scooter closer to her time so she could get another 20 minutes of reading done at home. Ben took Bubba home, and I stayed behind to watch Scooter swim. She did so well. In the past 6-8 months, she as really developed her swimming skills. It's amazing what happens when she's "ready" to do something. She just does it! With a child like Scooter, it's sometimes hard to remember how much effort goes into it behind the scenes, though. She's been struggling through lessons for 5 years, now, with me constantly worried that I'm moving her up too fast or not fast enough, etc. Well...I know now that she's doing just fine.

I'm hoping the same holds for her writing. We got home from lessons around 7:20 or so, and Scooter had to take a shower (and all the post-shower work that goes into it, like vanicream, etc), and still do 30 minutes (remember our ultimatum?) of writing. Her dad called as she was getting ready for her shower. Fine. Her shower waited until she was done. When she got out of the shower, she asked me to sit with her while she got ready. That's pretty standard procedure. We talked about her math homework and the writing she had to do that night, and she started crying. She said she was just so tired, and her dad told her she had to call him back and she REALLY didn't want to. I asked what she wanted me to do. She said nothing - they had already said good night on the last call.

After she calmed down, she got to work on her writing. Unbeknownst to her, I set the timer for 15 minutes instead of 30. By that time, it was already 8, and she needed sleep. I did tell her that she could write until the timer went off, and if I could tell that she was trying really hard and she had close to 100 words, I wouldn't make her keep going. Well...by the time the buzzer sounded, she had 102 words, and none of the sentences started with "After that" or "Then." I consider that a success. After that, *wink* Scooter went to bed feeling happy and relieved. I consider that a success, too.

Mornings. What a drag.

I will admit it. I've never been a good mom in the mornings. I'm tired, I'm rushed, I have no patience - even less than normal, which is pretty bad. I often read those "how to make your mornings better" articles in parenting and women's magazines, and they usually say the same things: do everything the night before, get up 15 minutes earlier so you have your own "me time" before getting the kids up, etc. I've actually taken much of that advice to heart. I mentally prepare what to wear and what I'm taking for lunch the night before. I wake up about 45 minutes before I get Bubba up in order to shower, do hair and make up, etc. Often times, he's up before I go to wake him up for the day. So what's my problem?

I'll chalk up 90% of our morning issues to his stubbornness and my impatience. Those two traits go together like tnt and a lit fuse in the mornings. Generally, the goal is to get Bubba on the potty and off (hands washed and all) before Ben gets up. It used to happen with a fair amount of frequency. No longer. And lately, it doesn't matter what mom thinks. Things must be done Bubba's way or no way at all. This causes me much grief. Generally, I walk away for a moment to let us both take a breath. Today, that action caused a tantrum. Ugh.

I suppose an answer to this problem would be to wake up even earlier - myself and Bubba included. I find myself worrying about disturbing Ben's sleep (I know it does), but I mostly worry about the amount of sleep my 2 (almost 3!!) year old is getting. He needs that 15 minutes, doesn't he? I'm sure he does, but maybe not as much as we all need a little more sanity in the morning. With an extra 10 or 15 minutes, we might be able to potty and dress and eat at a 2 year old's pace, while maintaining my usual 8 minutes late for work timing in the morning. I guess there's no time like the present to try.

Solidarity, sister!

Poor Scooter. She has mean parents. She didn't get her writing homework done this weekend (mainly b/c it was spent in her dad and stepmom's hotel room, but that's another story). We had threatened her that if she doesn't get her writing homework done (which is extra-credit, by the way), that instead of a weekend update, she'd have to start writing every day. Well...since we are in the habit of following through on threats (another story), today is the day she starts writing 100 words (or 30 minutes - whichever is MORE) per day. Yipers. Last night, she wrote 86 words, and it took her an hour and a half. This might be painful.

But you know what? It gets easier. And to share in her misery, I've decided that maybe I should blog everyday. I'm pretty sure it's easier for me to type 100 words about my day than it is for her to write it all out, but at least I'm doing something. Scooter is a very literal-minded girl. She balks when I suggest that she make up a weekend update to turn into school (you mean...make up my whole weekend?!). She resists when I suggest that she include something her brother did (it's not Bubba's weekend update, it's MY weekend update). She is frustrated at our insistence that she buckle down and write about her weekend with interesting words and sentences. But when I explained 100 words or 30 minutes - whichever is more, she lit up. She finally had a standard by which she can judge her own progress. It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Which brings me to another weight she had on her shoulders until last night - her hair.

Since she got back from her Dad's this September, we've reminded her at every meal to put her hair up. Ben didn't care if it was a headband or a pony tail, but it shouldn't be in her food. I preferred pony tails. Once it gets to be a certain length, even a headband can't stop the ends from getting yogurt on them. Well...over the past month, we've really buckled down. She would lose a quarter from her allowance for every infraction (she usually gets $1.50 per week - so she was allowed 6 forgetful meals). Week 1, she lost 4 quarters. Week 2, 5. Week 3, she lost the whole allowance, which led to the next decree:  If you have one more week of losing your whole allowance, we're cutting your hair. By Wednesday night, she had one quarter left. Thursday night through the next Monday would be spent with her dad. All she had to do was get through Thanksgiving dinner. She failed. Twice. There were tears. You see...all we heard for the past few months is that she HAS to have long hair because Vicky (name changed) wanted her to have long hair (and, as almost an afterthought, Scooter also wanted to have long hair). Well, I whipped out the long overused phrase, "If you can't take care of it, maybe you shouldn't have it."

She got back from her miserable weekend with her dad (I still have to get to that story, huh?), wrote for an hour and a half (see above), and sat down for dinner. She actually remembered a pony tail this time, but because we say what we mean, and we mean what we say, we told her we were going to go get her hair cut after dinner. She dawdled with dinner (ate a TON), and then escaped to her room w/ Bubba for a minute before I told her we had to go. She started crying. I asked her if she didn't want to get her haircut, and it all came out. No. It wasn't that. She just had a really boring weekend, and she wanted to play w/ Bubba.

She missed him this weekend. She said she kept telling her dad about other stuff to do, but all they did was something fun for 2 hours per day. Other than that, they were in their hotel room to watch football. I asked about that. Because on the train ride home, she talked about a lot of things they did. They went to the zoo (for 2 or 3 hours on Friday); they went to the Children's Museum (for 2 hours on Saturday), they went to 2 malls (one on Sunday and one on Monday). And shockingly, they stayed in Beaverton. I was told they'd be at the same hotel he's stayed at for the past 2 trips here. I guess plans changed? I thought I was supposed to be made aware of where she would be. Hm...

Apparently, her dad told her that they'd already done everything there was to do in Portland. When she asked him about ice skating, a show, some hiking, or a park downtown, he said they didn't have time. I wouldn't let her take any library books with her (she didn't grab any non-library books), so she was bored. I told her if it made her feel any better that we had a boring weekend, too, with mostly football. She said no, it didn't make her feel better. Because at home, she could at least play with Bubba, or actually go to a park if she asked. *Sigh* Man. What do you say to that, while still following a court order to encourage a healthy relationship with the other parent? She did everything an 8 year old can do to try to interact reasonably with her dad/stepmom, and still had a miserable time. I think overall, there were fun times, but the majority of her weekend was spent in a hotel room with the tv on. Ugh.

But anyway, I think my 100 words are up for the day. I'll conclude by saying that Scooter started out with a HUGE frowny-face in the salon chair last night, but ended up with huge smile. She said a few times last night (and a couple of times before I left for work this morning) how much she likes her hair short. I do, too. I'll have to post pics tomorrow. I'm beginning to wonder if she "forgot" about a headband/pony tail daily for 3 months in an attempt to get us to make her cut her hair. This way, when her dad/step mom come down on her about having short hair, she has someone to "blame" about it...

Happy Turkey Day!

Did everyone have one? I did, which is not to say it wasn't without some amount of sadness. Thanksgiving has always kind of been a sisters holiday. There have been 3 that I didn't spend with my sisters. The first one was the first year I spent in Korea. I got there in June, and while technically one earns 30 days per year of time off, I didn't have that much saved up, nor did I have the funds to fly back to the states for a weekend. Also, we were gearing up for Y2K at the time. I did, however, make it back for the second Thanksgiving while I was stationed in Korea. My oldest sister and her kids even flew in from California to spend time, all of us together. The second time not spent with my sisters was when Scooter was 3 and we flew to Hawaii. So even if we weren't with my sisters and their kids, we were at least with my Dad. The third was when Scooter was 6 and we flew to Hawaii. Again, we spent the day with my Dad, so it wasn't a totally family-less time.

This year, though, was spent with none of my family. The really, really nice part was that Ben's family (aunt, uncle and cousins) opened their home to us and cooked us a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. His sister even came down from Seattle, so even if there were no "hokomoto" sisters present, there was still an aunt for the kids. :) We got up early to beat the traffic, and it worked. We saw more sherrifs and state troopers than we did regular cars. We got down to the ranch around 9am, and it seems like the day just flew by. The food was delicious, the company was wonderful, and just like that, we had to pack it up and get back to Portland so Scooter's dad could pick her up. He flew in after 6pm.

Scooter was a little put out that she had to go with her dad this weekend. Even though she knows she has spent T-days without her cousins, she really focused on the fact that Thanksgiving was "her" time to hang out with cousins, and it wasn't fair that - in her mind, anyway- her dad was taking that away from her. I think she came around, though, and was eventually excited to see him. I hope so, anyway.

We had a pretty laid-back weekend. I made some crock pot lasagna that actually turned out pretty good. We did a little (but not much) christmas shopping. We did a little (but not much) cleaning. We went to the park a couple of times and went on a tiny hike. We also asked where Scooter was. A lot. I think Bubba gets worried when his sister isn't around.

Swimming

Swimming lessons started last night. 6-6:30 is Bubba's lesson (which includes me holding him the whole time and lifting him over my head at least 20 times), and 6:30-7 is Scooter's lesson. Her lesson is almost as physically challenging for me, as it includes keeping Bubba from climbing the chain link fence between the pool area and the spectator area. I think next week, we'll be a little slower getting dressed after our lesson. Maybe we can slow this thing down to 29 minutes or so.

Bubba's lesson was a little surprising. First off, he did this for 4 months last year. Same teacher (mostly), same songs, same everything. Secondly, he was last in a pool about 9 weeks ago. But nevertheless, he was scared of the water. Usually, we'll hold hands and walk down the steps into the pool until it's up to his waist or so. Last night, I had to carry him, his arms double wrapped around my neck and his legs constricting my waist. He didn't want to turn around and face forward. He didn't want to do the motions of the songs we sang. He just wanted to squeeze me for the first 15 minutes of class. After we sat on the side and kicked and did a few jumps in, though, he settled back into a routine and by the end of class, he was laying his head on my shoulder and floating on his back, completely stretched out - which is more than he has ever accomplished before. Yay, Bubba! He even put his face in the water and blew bubbles.

Scooter started out almost as scared. Luckily, I didn't have to be in the water with her. I think she wished I was, though. I had signed her up for level 2, which was taught by 2 younger-looking boys (high school kids?). She was nervous to the point of almost crying. Oh dear. But she quickly showed them that she actually belonged in level 2.5 and was moved up. After that, she did great. Crawl stroke across the pool a few times, and some elementary back stroke thrown in for good measure. She'll be in level 3 in no time, and after that, it's swim team.

There were 2 bad things from last night.
1. I got in trouble for allowing Scooter to sit in the spectator section (remember - there is only a chain link fence separating her from me) by herself with a book. Twice. I'm "more than welcome to put her in the care of another parent in the spectator area." Really? It's more desirable for me to make her sit by a stranger than it is for me to make her sit farther away from said stranger? Dumb. I understand the policy. I understand that if someone were to come in off the street and drag her out kicking and screaming, it would be difficult for me to leap out of the pool w/ Bubba and come to her aid, and YOU (Beaverton Aquatic Center) do not want to be held responsible for that. But I don't understand why you would rather I make her sit next to a stranger, who may or may not be there legitimately to watch their own kid, who also may somehow molest my daughter quietly in the corner. But whatever. I'll go early to lessons next week to scope out a "safe" looking stranger to be responsible for my 8 year old with her book.
2. I ran into Bubba's old daycare teacher. He recently moved from Big Todds to Pre School, so she's no longer his teacher, but we still have a nearly year long relationship with her. And I love her. I think she's a great teacher and she really helped us get a handle on potty training and development. The problem was that until last night, everytime I saw her, I was wearing business casual. Last night, I was in a wet swim suit. It's like that nightmare where you go to school naked. Only it was real: Bubba's school had come to me when I was nearly naked. He also had a hard time wrapping his head around seeing a teacher outside of the school setting. Maybe he was embarrassed at being in his too-small swim trunks.

Peggy Fleming, I am not

I took Scooter ice skating yesterday. The morning started out fairly promising, with coffee brewing, chili cooking, kids eating breakfast...it went downhill from there. We thought we'd take a drive to see Lake Oswego, where Ben would take a few photographs and then we'd do a little hiking. But...the coffee I had purchased on Saturday was sub-par at best, and Bubba had a cold, so we decided to stay home and relax in front of the football screen.

I spent the morning finishing the laundry I had started on Saturday and cooking. Generally, Ben does the major cooking in the house. I prepare dinner most nights (for the kids and I as Ben is usually busy with other pursuits), but it's always leftover this or that which Ben made on the weekend or during the day. Needless to say, this is a difficult task. Many home makers spend a lot of time thinking about and preparing food. It's no small feat to plan, prepare and budget for a family's meals each day. Something had to give, so I was put in charge of food.

Luckily, the CSA delivery from last week served as inspiration. We got a pumpkin, leeks, carrots, parsnips, squash, and chicory. So...I made pumpkin chili (pretty good, but I probably won't ever make it again, since I'm the only one who liked it), sausage and lentil soup (very good, but I probably won't ever make it again, since it took 3 hours to make, even though I cheated and used store-bought soup stock), and salmon with potatoes and broccoli. Ben said the salmon was old and gross. I'm beginning to see why he was put in charge of meals. Clearly, I have no clue how to pick out - or make - good food. Not to mention, food is not in my budget, which consists of rent, utilities, internet, daycare, retirement, insurance, and lawyer.

Happily for me, the morning didn't last all day. After lunch, Scooter and I went to the mall for a spin around the ice rink there. We rented our skates, locked up our shoes, and hit the ice (literally, with our bottoms). I didn't actually fall down, but Scooter did. After 2 laps, I was worried that I had just blown $20 for nothing, and we'd leave crying. But she got the hang of it and by the end of the first hour, we were zipping along. A bit later, the zamboni cleared the ice. It was almost as exciting as when they do it at a hockey game. Except this time, one of the "lifeguards" that drags kids who fall down off the ice, moonlighted as the zamboni driver. He was excellent. Speedy, thorough, everything you'd want in the man who clears the ice. While he was polishing the rink, Scooter and I negotiated how many more laps we'd do. I said 3. Scooter said 10, we compromised at 5.

But once we were on the ice, the first 4 flew by. So I conceded that we could do a full 10. On lap 7, Scooter admitted that she needed a break. I suggested that we just leave. But no, we could do 3 more. And we did. Quickly and efficiently, Scooter finished up her laps, and we headed home. Immediately upon leaving the ice, her mood soured. She was tired. Grumpy. Blah. I knew we should have stopped at 3. But at least she had something to write about in her weekend update for school.

Underwear? Under there!

We had a few underpants related funny business going on this week.

Scooter wore the same jeans to school on Tuesday as she had worn on Monday. Fine. Often times, I think she throws pants into the laundry when they're not dirty, and being the primary launderer in the house, this annoys me. Afterall, I dry clean my dry-clean only pants about once every 6 months or so, regardless if I wear them weekly or monthly. Surely after one wearing, her pant's aren't dirty. So I talked her into not putting that pair in the dirty clothes Monday night and went on my way.

Tuesday, she threw those pants on and left for school. About 4 minutes after she left the house (just enough time to get to the bus stop and back), she came back in and handed Ben a pair of underpants. Apparently, she had left her underwear in her pants when she took them off Monday night, and they fell out of her pant leg when she got to the bus stop. Oopsie! That had to be embarrassing, but Scooter just took it in stride in her completely practical way.

When I got home from work that night, Bubba met me at the door completely naked with a clean pair of his underpants on his head - eyes poking through the leg holes. We don't have the heat on at our house, yet, and it's pretty chilly. I asked Scooter why he was like that. "Oh...he had an accident and he went to change and just put them on his head." I asked if it just happened, and Scooter replied with a weird look, "Nooo??" Considering Scooter gets home around 3:30, and I usually get home shortly after 5, it might have been 10 minutes or an hour and a half of him laughing hysterically while running around with his "monster" underpants on his head.

I love it when my kids put stuff on their heads.

 Scooter used to put a lot of buckets on her head. That's why I so creatively called her "bucket head."

 Bubba in his baby helmet (he's still wearing it a year and a half later).

 Scooter in her first helmet (at 2).

This last one is Scooter at about the same age as Bubba is now. I can't believe how quickly they change.

C'mon, kids!

Today was test day # 2 for me at Scooter's school's passport club. It's an extra curricular activity that the kids can choose to do on their own or not. Each month, they're given a list of about 20-25 countries and a map to study. At (or near) the end of the month, community volunteers take over the school cafeteria to test the kids to see if they know where on the map each of those countries is, plus the capitals of 5 of the countries. I didn't help out in September, but I did October and today was November. Clearly, the countries are starting to become more obscure. Moldova? (easter Europe). Comoros? (goup of islands near Madagascar).

Each of the countries is grouped into a level. Level 1 is 5 countries, 2: another 5, 3: 5 more, 4: 7-10, level 5 is the capitals of the level 1 countries. Theoretically, the levels get harder as you go. Realistically, the kids have trouble at every level. Today's difficult country was Algeria. I get it. African countries are the hardest for me to identify, too. But Algeria? Come on, kids! It's the first one on the list to study!

I don't think I'm alone in saying that as the year goes on, the kids are either studying their maps less or the countries are all just running together in their minds. There was one class (same one from last month) who must take a little time in class to study. They had almost every student get all 5 levels correct. I hope Scooter gets that teacher in the coming years. The divide between kids who studied and kids who didn't was even more stark than last month. Last month, kids could kind of fudge their way through "show me where the United States is..." This month, finding Canada was a little tougher.

But then, I was introduced to a girl in 4th or 5th grade. She was brought to me by her teacher with instructions to please speak slowly and pronounce my words clearly. This girl is new to the United States, and this was her first week at this school. OK. The teacher ran off to get her a "passport," so the girl sat and watched while I tested another girl. Girl 2 got all of them right, but I didn't speak particularly slowly or clearly for her. The teacher came back with Girl 1's passport, and we got started. I was apprehensive. Some kids will sit there FOREVER thinking and guessing. I've learned to be patient and just let them think about it. Sometimes, they surprise you and come up with the right answers if they're not rushed. It's hard for me and my go-go-go impatience, but maybe this is another thing that I can get out of volunteering. Anyway, to my surprise and delight, this girl, who was less than 5 days into school in America got all of them correct in very short order. Seriously. Either she can understand WAAAY more than she can speak, or that teacher was really selling her short. Either way, she came from Nepal. So props to her previous school for teaching her the locations of Algeria, Canada, Panama, Mongolia, Turkey, Sweden, Sierra Leone, Moldova, Niger, and the slew of other countries (and capitals of some) that were tested.

I wonder if, when kids from the US start at new schools around the world, their parent volunteers are as impressed with them as I was with her.

Whoops

I just wrote a mega-monster email to my friends. So...sorry about that (if you read both). I'm actually in a pretty happy place with my life right now. My boy is nearly day-time potty trained. My girl is re-learning the art of putting her own hair up. What more could I ask for (besides a giant raise and more time off)?

Speaking of putting her hair up, I should really make a list of things that Scooter could do in 1st grade that, after spending a year w/ her Dad, was unable to do in 3rd.

1. turn off lights when she leaves a room.
2. set the table for dinner.
3. put a headband in or put her hair up when sitting down for dinner.
4. start her own shower.
5. wash her own hair.
6. write a story.
7. do much of anything w/o being told.

I know I'm beating a dead horse, but seriously. This is a ridiculous list, and much of it is not so much whether  a 6 or 8 year old CAN or CANNOT do those things, it's a matter of if she thinks she can or not. We wonder why her confidence is down? Maybe it's because everything she did was re-done by someone else for the past year. Let's celebrate what she does. Let's push her to do more. That is what parenting should be about.

My mom raised 4 extremely independent, intellegent, and socially responsible women. She didn't do it by cutting us down at every turn. There are hundreds of photos of me where I look at them now and say, "Why on Earth did you let me out of the house like that?!" And my mom will say, "You BEGGED to wear that!" And you know what? I'd rather have a thousand "embarrassing" photos of myself in ridiculous clothing with poor hair choices than a constant, nagging feeling that whatever I'm doing today is not good enough or "right." Because as long as it's the best I can do with the resources I've been given, nobody can ask for better.

why are we so mean to our mothers?

I'll be the first one to admit it. I'm mean to my mom. Not purposely, mind you, just incapable (i hope?) of taking her feelings into consideration when I open my mouth (just wide enough for my foot). I don't think it's just me, though. I know my daughter does it, too.

Almost weekly (usually a bit more often), she'll comment on how much food I eat. Ever since staying a year at her dad's, she is very conscientious about what she eats, how much she eats, and the eating habits of those around her. She didn't grow at all last year. It's not exactly hurtful to make the observation that I eat a lot. All the time. At every meal. But it also doesn't make me feel especially good about myself. At the beginning of the year, when asked about her teacher, Scooter said that her teacher was almost as old as me, "but MUCH prettier." Seriously? I've seen Scooter's teacher. She's not all that.

As my mother once wished upon me, my daughter DID end up just like me. As in, she doesn't realize that her mom has a feeling. I even do it when my mom isn't listening. At work last week, I was eating some home-made squash soup. I LOVE this recipe, and Ben and I have been making it every week, with the squash variety that we get from our CSA. I made mention to a coworker, who's about my mom's age, that my mom used to force us to eat squash, and I HATED it. I wondered aloud what my childhood would have been like if my mom had just made us something delicious with that dreaded squash.

Well...don't you worry, mom. My coworker put me in my place. Things were different even 15 years ago. You couldn't just google an ingredient and have a bunch of user-tested recipes pop up. You relied on friends and family for recipes. And many of those were unchanged for generations - when your food was seasonal and local, and you didn't have access to fancy spices and cooking show techniques. I concluded that if my mom had the resources we have now, she also would have made us delicious food every night. As it was, she "hit" about 85-90% of the time. Not too shabby.

But now that I reflect on this, I'm guessing Scooter doesn't like 85% of what we cook, and I'm sure, since Bubba only eats about 50% of the time, that I'm only batting about .475. Hmm...what's wrong with us in this age of instant good recipes, that I'm still unable to please 100% of the people 100% of the time? Maybe it's not our mothers who are failing us. Maybe we're failing our mothers.

My weekend update, By Scooter

One of the ways in which I am torturing my daughter is in taking advantage of any and all extra-credit opportunities at school. One of them is writing a weekend update. It's due on Monday, and it's just a personal recap of what my third grader experienced over the weekend. I'm sure it not only helps her put thoughts on paper, but it can also give her teacher valuable insight into what's going on in her students' lives.

This weekend, Scooter did the following:
Thurs - no school. Went to Ben's Brazilian jiujitsu class at lunch time. Went to a park with Ben and her brother. Last soccer practice of the season. Worked on her workbook, which is a supplemental age-appropriate work book that we got her to use over the summer, but she either never took it to her dad's or they didn't do it together - or at all.
Fri - no school. Practiced writing everyone's name in cursive. Went on some math websites and played some math games. Played with her brother
Sat - Waffles and sausage for breakfast! Last soccer game of the season in the rain, followed by a pizza party to celebrate the end of the season. Each of the girls got a trophy, and the coaches each got an engraved water bottle. That afternoon, we went to the library and the grocery store. I decided to take my change jar in so we could use their change machine and then pay for the groceries with the cash we'd get. Except the change machine required a 10% fee. No way. We instead used the self-check out, which meant we plugged in $40 worth of quarters one by one before I gave up and paid the rest with my credit card.
Sun - we hiked to the stone house in Forest Park. We planned and put together Scooter's terrarium (cactus and succulents). We watched a lot of football and had chili.

Scooter's extra credit consisted of the following:
She mentioned working on her work book. She mentioned practicing everyone's name in cursive. She detailed going to the grocery store and trying to use change to pay for our groceries. Then "mom didn't have enough money to pay for our food, so she used a credit card." The grocery visit coupled with me running out of money took up 1/2 the page.

Although we encouraged Scooter to write about things her teacher might find interesting, I was kind of hoping she'd stick to terrariums and hiking...

Mediocre? Is that possible?

I had Scooter's parent-teacher conference last week. Guess what? She's an average 3rd grader. I can't believe it. Color me shocked (and I'll admit - a bit disappointed). This mama didn't raise no dummy.

Don't get me wrong, she's doing well in school, and she's starting to come out of her shell and make some new friends (other than the ones she had from the last 4 weeks of school last year). But she's not in the top reading group, her writing is "developing", and she's about to be average at math. What's up?! She's in the top math group, but come on! She should be tops in everything. Isn't that what the tiger mom in me is dying for?

At the end of 1st grade, Scooter took the CAT (california assessment test) for K-2. She scored a perfect score. That's right. She got every question on that test correct. At the end of 1st grade, she had a beginning of 4th grade reading level. At the end of 1st grade, she was clearly an advanced student. She spent a school year at her dad's.

At the end of 2nd grade, she took a reading placement test w/ her 2nd grade teacher in Beaverton. She was the highest reader in her class (fluency and comprehension). Her writing was lack luster - as in, it was stuck in 1st grade. Her teacher was shocked - how could such a good reader be such a poor writer? I promised we'd work on it over the summer. I arranged for one of her friends to be a pen pal with Scooter. Scooter wrote exactly 1 letter. I asked her cousins to write, so Scooter could write back. 3 cousins wrote. Scooter wrote nobody back. She was told she couldn't go to summer camp with her cousins, and when the court order finally forced them to let her go, she did not even have a swimming suit. Such was her summer.

So when she was tested again at the beginning of 3rd grade, imagine my surprise when she tested at a mid-third grade reading level. Just enough to NOT make it into the highest reading group. The ex is blaming me and my choice in books. Really. Newbury and Caldecott and other literary award winning books are not challenging enough for her. He'd prefer she read fan fiction. yeah. Because as long as the book has more than 150 words, it must be good. Apparently, Charlotte's Web (a book which set the standard for children's fiction) isn't good enough for her because it doesn't have enough pages. At least they did make a movie out of it. I guess it has that going for it (in his eyes). I guess the book I'm currently reading is crap because it has less than 300 pages - I am, after all, 27 years older than Scooter. Shouldn't I be reading only books of greater than 700 pages? What?!

I'll hop off that horse for now. Just know that from the day we went to conferences forward, poor little Scooter has been writing more, doing more math online, and reading more. That girl will be in the top 10% of her class if it kills us both.

parent teacher conferences

Today's the day. This week has been tough for little Scooter. She didn't want to go to school on Monday. That was surprising. First of all, it was Halloween, which at her school meant she could wear pjs to school. Secondly, it was Halloween. Duh. No school, no trick or treating. But it was also the day that her dad was coming to visit her at school. Her dad, and taun taun. And Scooter just didn't want to go.

I talked Scooter into getting out of bed, and she started her day. Slowly. I guess her morning routine has devolved from getting ready, doing her reading and still getting out the door early to barely getting ready in time to catch the bus. In the early afternoon, I got a call from Scooter's teacher. She wanted to let me know that Scooter's dad, and her, uh. stepmom (?) ate lunch with Scooter, and told her they were going to pick her up after school. Her teacher wanted to make sure that was OK. Yes! That right there is one of the reasons why I like that school. Even though the ex is on the list of approved picker-uppers, they still call just to make sure. Hopefully, that was OK with Scooter...

Yesterday, she was slow in the morning again, but I chalked it up to a late night trick or treating. And then we had massive tears over mediocre homework last night. Seriously. You're in THIRD GRADE. Use a complete sentence to answer your READING questions. Then, I found out she's not in the top reading group this year. She went from the best reader in the 2nd grade to what? Obviously not the best. She did no work on her reading or writing over the summer, and she slipped. I often wondered about that when we'd read together. I'd ask her if she knew what certain words or concepts were, and she'd say no. Comprehension is an important part of reading. It seems like reading, along with all of her other school work has become a rush-job with no work put into it.

She spent a year where everything was done for her. Where the bare minimum was praised. Where she was left to read for hours on end. Ugh. In kindergarten and 1st grade, we often struggled with sounding out words and working to figure stuff out. Scooter has always liked to just "know" stuff. With the apparent absense of encouragement and parenting last year, it's like we're starting all over again to get her to actually work for her education. Ugh.

In the meantime, second-highest reading group. (thus...little to no chance at TAG this year), and you know, once you fall "behind," it's that much harder to get back up again. But I shouldn't get ahead of myself, I guess. Let's just start with the parent-teacher conference tonight and go from there...

Tired topic

I'm sure you're tired of me complaining about the ex's wife. I know the topic is over used. One might think that I'm the angry ex who's having trouble letting go. Not so. Let me fill you in on the last, oh, I don't know, 5 years...

About 5 years ago, I started dating Ben. Scooter didn't meet him until we'd been dating for 2 months. So...5 years ago, she wouldn't have met him, yet. But my ex knew about him. When scheduling his parenting time (he liked to re-arrange to fit his schedule), I may have mentioned that I had plans or something to that effect. Apparently, around that time, the ex accidently discharged his weapon inside his apartment, the bullet lodging in his downstairs' neighbor's bathroom. If the neighbor hadn't reported it, it would have gone unreported. Shortly after Scooter met Ben, the ex crashed his police cruiser into a firetruck.

The ex, by then, was on his 4th or 5th girlfriend post-move out. The only part of that which bothered me is that Scooter met every single one of those girls. I personally don't think you need to expose 3 year olds to all of your dates. But that's just me.

Fast forward a year and 4 months, and Ben and I got married. Scooter was 4. Shortly after that (or before that?) the ex started dating his current wife. Unremarkable except for the fact that within weeks, she was the one picking Scooter up from daycare, and soon after that, she was the one dropping Scooter off at home. I was a bit disappointed in the ex's apparent laziness, but to be honest, I was somewhat pleased that the level of care at her dad's house had improved somewhat.

For the next few years, the ex's girlfriend and I pretty much got along. I would not have called her my friend, and I doubt she would have done the same, but we had a working relationship. That is to say we were friendly at soccer games. She had some of the same gripes about him that I always have (he doesn't plan anything unless it's something he wants to do, then it'll all be planned out, w/o any communication back to you about it), etc. He moved in with her. Nothing really changed.

Last year, I proposed to the ex, our move to Portland. It was met with agreement, and tentative plans for summer vacation time. I did not consult the ex's girlfriend. I didn't think I needed to. Oh, boy, was I wrong. Overnight, she went from cordial to cold. Rather than any sort of discussion or compromise, we went straight to court. One minute, I had agreement with the ex. A week later, I was served with a restraining order. In it, my daughter's birthday was wrong - about 3 years off. A few months after that, mediation attempts broke down with the ex saying, "I cannot agree to anything you say. What will people [insert: new wife - oh yeah, they got married last fall] think of me if I just say ok?" I had offered to let him not pay a penny in child support if he'd just let us move and not have to go to court. He insisted.

Court was interesting. Actually, it was the hardest 2 days of my life. The ex's new wife (can I just call her Vicky?) sat outside the courtroom (for no reason) both days. She looked horrible. Not that she was ever particularly good looking, but now, instead of being hidden by hair products and make up, the negativity couldn't help but shine through. She has since tried her best to disrupt my time with Scooter. She has tried her best to insert herself where I already am. Half the time, I feel like my emails to the ex are being read and answered by her. It's nonsense. Fast forward to last night, she was with Scooter and her dad in the Starbucks we met at for the parenting exchange. The policeman I spoke with when I filed the police report a few weeks ago recommended that we do exchanges in public, so that's what I'm doing.

So there she was, sitting at the Starbucks. And she still had that sour, horrible look on her face. If you google, "sour faced old trout" you'll get an idea of what she always looks like (or...at least whenever I'm around). Here. I'll help you out. Imagine Vicky:

But with this look: 

Oh, yeah. And she's 5 months preggers, which in a normal person would mean that she's 10-12 pounds heavier than normal. But on her, it means each arm is 10-12 pounds heaver. Not to mention the gut. *shudder*

You get the idea...

Halloween

I'll post pictures tomorrow (or later this week) of the kids looking like pirates. I just wanted to write a quick (or long) blog about my day so far. You would expect Portland to be a good halloween city. I mean, 1/2 the residents are pretty much dressed for the ocassion every day. But today was special. First off, I got to wear jeans to work. Bonus! On my way in on the train, I saw a woman with cat whiskers and ears. I wasn't sure if it was normal, or dress up, though. I once saw 4 people dressed as characters from Alice in Wonderland on the train. On a Tuesday. In August.

I hopped off the train and started my walk into work. A guy on a bike passed me. He was wearing one of those elmo furry vest costumes w/ the hood that's like Elmo's head. Ok. Not too strange. It was a little chilly, and the Elmo head covered his helmet perfectly. He said, "good morning!" in an Elmo voice. Hm...ok. That's funny. I got into work, and a woman came out of the bathroom wearing a tutu.

At lunch, I headed down to Pioneer Courthouse Square to pick up my monthly train and bus pass. I saw 2 zombies. As I passed a food cart, there was a sign in the window, "I'm sorry, we're closed today due to a zombie attack. We will rise from the dead to serve you tomorrow." I saw a girl with a darth vader mask on. To be fair, I'm pretty sure I've seen her before, though.

On my way back into the office, I saw a woman, dressed normally, except she had a crown on. Maybe she's royalty? It has been a fun halloween, so far. But I'm sure I could write a post with similar happenings on any other day of the year in this city. It's what makes living here so fun.

volunteering is hard

I volunteered at Scooter's school again today. This time, instead of an hour in her classroom, I was there for almost 3 hours in the cafeteria. It was amazing. I sat next to a woman who is in a women's singing quartet, and they went to the all black production of Oklahoma last night. I've heard great things about that show. *little pang of jealousy*

Anyway, the point of me being at school today was to help with the Passport Club. This is a PTC (parent teacher club)-run addition to the kids' curriculum. Each child has a passport, which is kept with their teacher. Each month, they are given a list of countries to find on a map. There are 5 levels (1st-5th grades). They may choose to study however many levels they want. Levels 1-4 are countries, and then level 5 is the capitals of the countries in level 1. For example, this month level 1 was the following countries: USA, Brazil, Australia, Thailand, and Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). So...in order to complete level 5, you also needed to know the capitals of those countries. Could you do it? I can, now, but I wouldn't have been able to a month ago. Studying with Scooter has helped my geography skills as well. Anyway, the theory goes if the kids to all 5 levels each month, by the end of the year, they should know where all the countries in the world are located. And the levels change each year, so in theory, if you remember all the capitals from each of the years before (and you do all 5 levels all 5 years), you'd end up knowing a boat load of capitals, too.

But in reality, there are some kids who study this stuff, and some kids who don't. You know the statistic that 20% of Americans can't find the US on a map? That didn't quite happen this morning, but it was close. I didn't test Scooter this morning. I waved and encouraged her, though, and guess what? She got to bang the drum for knowing all 5 levels. YAY!! I'm excited to see what next month's countries are.

Today's song

In case you missed it in August, I'm on a Jens Lekman kick. He's great. For a while, I had switched to Richard Hawley, but I had to go back to Jens.

It's nice, fall music. Or something. Plus, he's Swedish, and who doesn't love the Swedes. I guess he came to Seattle earlier this month, and I missed it. I was probably listening to Richard at the time. ha ha ha.

Anyway, I forgot my book this morning, so I was "stuck" staring at people on the train. Luckily, the blind man that caught my eye yesterday was riding again today. Yesterday, he had an e-reader (well...some electronic braile device). Today, it was a regular braile book. Fascinating stuff. And the great thing about blind guys is that they never catch you staring at them. Except, I'm sure they know. So I try to only glance every 30 seconds or so.

So while I was being extremely rude this morning, I was also listening to the ol' ipod. Guess who was playing? Two songs caught my ear this morning. "Another Sweet Summer's Night on Hammer Hill" and "The Wrong Hands." The ASSNoHH song is currently not available on Youtube, so you're losing out. The "SSNoHH" is on there, but it's a completely different song. For real. The SSNoHH is this groovy, up beat song - it's like a party. The other one, however, is very sad and dark. Mostly about people being beat up on hammer hill. But I guess both things can happen on a sweet summer night. Anyway, an excerpt of "The Wrong Hands" is on youtube. I'll post it here:

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/U2T1UYIOFlk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Did that work? Anyway, the basic premise of the song is that his ex girlfriend is dating someone else. His response is that he doesn't mind her leaving, but he doesn't want to see good love fall into the wrong hands. For some reason, that strikes me as really sweet, and as weird as it may sound, it reminds me of Ben. I wouldn't want our love to fall into the wrong hands, either.

I've never really understood hoodie vests

If you need a hood, you probably also need sleeves.

This week is a ho-hum week. The in-laws were here for a blink last week/weekend, but they had to go back home for a small work-related emergency. Our whole house feels sad about that. Scooter is still trying to figure out a way to get one or more of them to stay longer. Even though they're already gone. Bubba just comments on everything in relation to Grandma and Grandpa. I got out my high-heeled boots to show Scooter that Italy does, in fact, look like a boot (she begrudgingly agreed). Bubba said, "Mama has boots. Grandpa has boots, too!"

I've had hives on and off, almost daily since September. I've been doing a lot of internet reading about it today. Mostly, I've been checking out eMedicine because that's where my husband works, although I'm pretty sure he didn't edit the article(s) I read. It looks like I need to start some antihistamine therapy. Long term therapy. I took claritin the first few days I had hives, then switched it up to benadryl. Neither of them really took care of the problem. This article recommended upping the dose of claritin. I guess I'll try that for a while. Anyhoodle, the hives are likely caused by stress or a food additive, and not a contact allergy. My hair also started falling out a few months ago (more like 6 months ago, now). Chronic hives are also related to the third trimester of pregnancy, and hair loss occurs 2-6 months post partum. So, either I'm having a backward pregnancy, or it's stress.

I'm not feeling particularly stressed, but it could be that I've lived like this for so long, now, that it's my psychological "new normal" and my body is the only thing rebelling against the ridiculous nature of life. Scooter has asked to get off the phone with the ex immediately upon his calling just about everyday for the past couple of weeks. I hope she's doing ok. I often wonder what's going on in there. She has such an interesting take on her world.

passion?

I used to be a little "hot headed" at work. Not to the point where it was altogether detrimental to my career, I don't think. But I've never really had a problem speaking my mind. Actually, maybe it was a problem. If it was in my mind, chances were, it was coming out of my mouth, unfiltered. So maybe I was lacking in "tact." In my defense, the company for which I worked was owned by a tall white guy. The "executive leadership" consisted of 3 tall white guys. If you incorporate the manager levels (when I was still at that level), you were looking at 4 tall white guys, and me; later, 4 tall white guys, a couple of mid-sized white guys, one white girl and me. In other words, the leadership in that company was rather homogenous. So have I been told to shut up and toe the company line? Yes. Yes I have.

Fast forward to the past year. I'm in a new career in a much larger company (I went from 48 employees to 10,000). Suddenly, I have a reputation of being quiet and "steady." Like...nothing really ruffles my feathers. I do excellent work. I have a great rapport with my customers (I like to call them users). I'm a trusted advocate. What has changed? I mean, other than the job and the company? I can give you a few theories.

First off, work-wise, I'm MUCH less stressed. I no longer feel like the success or failure of a business component rests on my shoulders. I used to have that feeling every waking moment of my life - even after any financial incentive for success was taken away. Even after managerial control of the program was taken away. Because, honestly, you never really lose that feeling when you create something. I think more importantly, though, is that I now realize that work is work. It's not life and death (even though now that I work in healthcare it IS more life and death than most other jobs). In other words, this past year has kind of taught me what really is important, and for me, it's my family. So when given the opportunity, I will go volunteer in my daughter's classroom. And if the boy is feeling under the weather, I will stay home with him. And the office politics of who is assigned what and how will just roll off my back. Who cares if you have 50 requests outstanding, and I only have 30 (or the other way around). Will we end up doing an unequal amount of work? Or as we have requests closed out will others always be there to replace them? Does it really matter in the grand scheme of things? No. Not really.