Mine are my own.
They are trimmed short.
They naturally grow in a nice shape, but I sometimes file them to square them off a bit.
The tips are white.
The cuticles are OK - not too rough, but sometimes non-existent.
They aren't particularly ridged or bumpy.
They are a nice cap to my somewhat manish hands.
My hands are like my dad's.
Hers are trimmed severely short when they're not chewed to the quick.
We don't let them grow, for when they are too long, they are tools with which she can scratch her skin until it bleeds.
Her nail bed is wider than mine.
Her fingernails are not like mine, but they are beautiful.
Her hands are like her dad's.
The stand in's are fake.
They are long and pointed.
They are professionally polished weekly, and completely replaced every month or so.
They are painted in garish designs and colors.
The cuticles are perfect.
They are flashy and perfect.
They require a lot of maintenance and fuss.
They are shallow.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Is this legit?
Last night was attempt #3 at bikram yoga. At this rate, Ben has spent $6.67 per session for me. The drop in fee is $15, so we're already paying less than 1/2 price on a per class basis. Of course, the groupon was 20 sessions for $20 ($1 per class), so I have a ways to go. I am running out of time, though. I think I need to average 2.5 times per week from here on out. I think I can do it, though. There's a convenient 8:15 class. I can get the kids ready for bed, and head out at 8, while Scooter is still up and Bubba is (hopefully) either in bed or not long for the world before bed.
The classes are 90 minutes long in a room heated to 105 degrees. I know I've already gone over that part, but seriously. 105 degrees. I'm not generally a sweaty person, but I can soak a towel in 90 minutes. Each class taught at the Hall Street Studio is billed as a beginner class, which makes it not scary for those of us who are pretty awful at yoga. But the beauty of the practice of yoga is that beginner to advanced yogi, the poses are the same. It's really just the level of flexibility, balance and poise that you acquire over your weeks, month, years of practice determine your status. Not necessarily the level of the class you're in. I'm clearly a beginner, though. I wobble at the thought of tree pose (Tad Asana); I'm out of breath after balancing stick (Tula Dan Da Sana); I can't even begin to complete fixed firm (Supta Vaj Rasana).
Anyway, there are 26 poses that are done every class, in a specific order. Each pose is generally done twice (or 4 times, if done twice on each side). As we slowly ease ourselves into each pose, the instructor usually tells us what each pose does for us - more than the standard, "this pose strengthens x or stretches y" but things like, "this pose massages the ascending and descending colon." or " this pose cures insomnia, depression and colds/sinus/allergies and glandular defects."
Really? For real? Compressing my thyroid and balancing my hormones will really cure the common cold? I'm a skeptic as far as those claims go. But I will say that hot yoga might help with insomnia. I have been sleeping super soundly lately. Of course, the crazy schedule of the past week or so might also be helping on that front. I know it's only been 3 sessions, but I do feel more grounded and inner peacey-er. But that might also be due to having the whole family under one roof, again...I'll see how it goes after a few more sessions.
The classes are 90 minutes long in a room heated to 105 degrees. I know I've already gone over that part, but seriously. 105 degrees. I'm not generally a sweaty person, but I can soak a towel in 90 minutes. Each class taught at the Hall Street Studio is billed as a beginner class, which makes it not scary for those of us who are pretty awful at yoga. But the beauty of the practice of yoga is that beginner to advanced yogi, the poses are the same. It's really just the level of flexibility, balance and poise that you acquire over your weeks, month, years of practice determine your status. Not necessarily the level of the class you're in. I'm clearly a beginner, though. I wobble at the thought of tree pose (Tad Asana); I'm out of breath after balancing stick (Tula Dan Da Sana); I can't even begin to complete fixed firm (Supta Vaj Rasana).
Anyway, there are 26 poses that are done every class, in a specific order. Each pose is generally done twice (or 4 times, if done twice on each side). As we slowly ease ourselves into each pose, the instructor usually tells us what each pose does for us - more than the standard, "this pose strengthens x or stretches y" but things like, "this pose massages the ascending and descending colon." or " this pose cures insomnia, depression and colds/sinus/allergies and glandular defects."
Really? For real? Compressing my thyroid and balancing my hormones will really cure the common cold? I'm a skeptic as far as those claims go. But I will say that hot yoga might help with insomnia. I have been sleeping super soundly lately. Of course, the crazy schedule of the past week or so might also be helping on that front. I know it's only been 3 sessions, but I do feel more grounded and inner peacey-er. But that might also be due to having the whole family under one roof, again...I'll see how it goes after a few more sessions.
who's a big boy pirate?
Bubba has been on a pirate kick for a few weeks, now. Yeeargh, matey! And as he slips deeper into his pirate imagination, he's been showing us how much he's grown up. His balance is getting really good - he often walks the plank. He can independently play as well as turn on his bedroom light, open the fridge for yogurt, pick out a spoon, etc. He's almost self-sufficient.
Also, he's gone almost 2 weeks without a binky. He's a big boy. He'll remind you he's a big boy at every opportunity, too. "I not fun. I Big Boy!" "I not silly. I'm a pirate!"
But as any parenting column, newsletter, book, or expert will tell you, growth comes in fits and spurts. And sometimes, with those spurts come regressions. Your child's vocabulary might double one week, but with it, they become crabby, or won't eat, or as in our case, stops potty training.
Apparently, with maturity comes a desire to be lazy. He can make his own breakfast, but he'd rather fake-cry than sit on the potty. If you ask him if he wants to make pee pee on the potty, he'll say, "No. I want diaper." Shoot. He knows what he's doing, but he's doing it anyway. So yesterday, we pulled out the stops. He went to school in big boy underpants. Since he refused to "go" on the potty before we suited him up in his spiderman, cyclops, and ironman underpants (it's super grouper underpants), I had no idea when the last time he "went" was. But we took a chance and headed to school with 2 extra pairs of shorts and 2 extra pairs of underpants.
Monday is daycare pay-day. Generally, I love paydays, but daycare payday is the day I shell out money for daycare, and it's never a really fun time. But yesteray was even worse. There I was, waiting for my credit card to go through, (yes, I put daycare on credit. I pay it off each month, and over the course of a year, that's over 15,000 miles!) while Bubba fidgeted and squirmed all over a padded chair. Oh, Lord. Please don't let Bubba pee all over a carpeted office area...
After we successfully negotiated the strange, new world of underpants on padded chair, we walked (wiggled) our way to the classroom. I immediately announced to his teacher that he was wearing big boy underpants. She asked when he last "went." I didn't know. But I did bring lots of extra clothes! She said OK and that he was ready to do this. All the while, Bubba was dancing/squirming/gyrating all over the big todds room. Apparently, big boy underpants feel different than a diaper. In a good way.
We did it again this morning. The report from daycare yesterday was "good." He had 3 accidents (he only has 3 pairs of underpants), but each time, it was just a little bit. His teacher said it was enough to make his underpants wet, but not enough to really soak his shorts/socks/shoes. She said that a lot of times, kids will really let it go, but Bubba would go a little, then realize what was happening and stop until he made it to a potty.
Plus...based on his behaviour, he needs to leave big Todds. He's turning mean. He'll hit his friends and not listen to the teachers. Apparently, if he would get potty trained and move up to pre-school, that behaviour would clear itself up. That's the anecdotal evidence they've seen with other kids, at least. I hope that's what it is. I really don't want to be the parent of a bully. Especially since I know he's a really sweet boy. So we did it again today. I think we need to buy some more big boy underpants, so we don't have to wash and wear the same 3 pairs of underpants every day.
Also, he's gone almost 2 weeks without a binky. He's a big boy. He'll remind you he's a big boy at every opportunity, too. "I not fun. I Big Boy!" "I not silly. I'm a pirate!"
But as any parenting column, newsletter, book, or expert will tell you, growth comes in fits and spurts. And sometimes, with those spurts come regressions. Your child's vocabulary might double one week, but with it, they become crabby, or won't eat, or as in our case, stops potty training.
Apparently, with maturity comes a desire to be lazy. He can make his own breakfast, but he'd rather fake-cry than sit on the potty. If you ask him if he wants to make pee pee on the potty, he'll say, "No. I want diaper." Shoot. He knows what he's doing, but he's doing it anyway. So yesterday, we pulled out the stops. He went to school in big boy underpants. Since he refused to "go" on the potty before we suited him up in his spiderman, cyclops, and ironman underpants (it's super grouper underpants), I had no idea when the last time he "went" was. But we took a chance and headed to school with 2 extra pairs of shorts and 2 extra pairs of underpants.
Monday is daycare pay-day. Generally, I love paydays, but daycare payday is the day I shell out money for daycare, and it's never a really fun time. But yesteray was even worse. There I was, waiting for my credit card to go through, (yes, I put daycare on credit. I pay it off each month, and over the course of a year, that's over 15,000 miles!) while Bubba fidgeted and squirmed all over a padded chair. Oh, Lord. Please don't let Bubba pee all over a carpeted office area...
After we successfully negotiated the strange, new world of underpants on padded chair, we walked (wiggled) our way to the classroom. I immediately announced to his teacher that he was wearing big boy underpants. She asked when he last "went." I didn't know. But I did bring lots of extra clothes! She said OK and that he was ready to do this. All the while, Bubba was dancing/squirming/gyrating all over the big todds room. Apparently, big boy underpants feel different than a diaper. In a good way.
We did it again this morning. The report from daycare yesterday was "good." He had 3 accidents (he only has 3 pairs of underpants), but each time, it was just a little bit. His teacher said it was enough to make his underpants wet, but not enough to really soak his shorts/socks/shoes. She said that a lot of times, kids will really let it go, but Bubba would go a little, then realize what was happening and stop until he made it to a potty.
Plus...based on his behaviour, he needs to leave big Todds. He's turning mean. He'll hit his friends and not listen to the teachers. Apparently, if he would get potty trained and move up to pre-school, that behaviour would clear itself up. That's the anecdotal evidence they've seen with other kids, at least. I hope that's what it is. I really don't want to be the parent of a bully. Especially since I know he's a really sweet boy. So we did it again today. I think we need to buy some more big boy underpants, so we don't have to wash and wear the same 3 pairs of underpants every day.
Friday, August 26, 2011
It's hard to believe
A week ago, I left work early, extremely frustrated over a few things I'm (still) working on. Ben's friend came into town. We went camping. Today, I am preparing to head out of town to get Scooter. Yes!!!
We made it. 1st summer down. Almost. I leave tomorrow around 9am, and I get back with Scooter on Sunday at 10:30am. Next week is a busy one full of dentist appointments, car appointments, hair appointments, and school open houses. Ben and I also have to get our picture taken for a promotional thing, since Ben won a trip to Cancun. I'm almost dreading the prospect of next week. Wouldn't it be nice if we could have 1 more week with Scooter to kind of decompress before the crazy starts?
Speaking of which, I signed her up for soccer. The team in our area is one of 6 that gets sponsored by the Timbers, which is Portland's MLS team. The Timbers' season runs from March-October, and during some of their early games, they invite the kids to accompany the players onto the field. Hopefully, Scooter will get a chance like that sometime. It seemed like all of those special game days were during the summer, though.
I'm also about to sign both kids up for swim lessons. Bubba is still too young for just about every other activity (unless one of us was a stay at home parent and could take him to a 9:30am class in the middle of the week). Pretty soon, though, he'll be 3, which opens up tumbling, soccer, more swimming, and a whole host of other fun things to do.
So, yeah...word from the lawyer is that the appeal won't likely be wrapped up until Feb or March of 2012 - 18 or 19 months after we started down this long, winding, dangerous road, and either the month or the month after Vicky is due. Surprisingly enough, from what I saw on skype last night, while they were trying to get it to work, she's not huge, yet. I'm thinking back to how I looked at this time in 2008 (Bubba was born in Feb 2009), and it seemed like I was ENORMOUS. But then again, he was my 2nd, and it seemed like w/ #2, my body knew what to do, which means it packed on the pounds much quicker.
Considering Vicky did most of the skyping w/ Scooter last time Scooter was with us, I'll be able to monitor the weight gain with equal parts disinterest and fascination in the coming months.
We made it. 1st summer down. Almost. I leave tomorrow around 9am, and I get back with Scooter on Sunday at 10:30am. Next week is a busy one full of dentist appointments, car appointments, hair appointments, and school open houses. Ben and I also have to get our picture taken for a promotional thing, since Ben won a trip to Cancun. I'm almost dreading the prospect of next week. Wouldn't it be nice if we could have 1 more week with Scooter to kind of decompress before the crazy starts?
Speaking of which, I signed her up for soccer. The team in our area is one of 6 that gets sponsored by the Timbers, which is Portland's MLS team. The Timbers' season runs from March-October, and during some of their early games, they invite the kids to accompany the players onto the field. Hopefully, Scooter will get a chance like that sometime. It seemed like all of those special game days were during the summer, though.
I'm also about to sign both kids up for swim lessons. Bubba is still too young for just about every other activity (unless one of us was a stay at home parent and could take him to a 9:30am class in the middle of the week). Pretty soon, though, he'll be 3, which opens up tumbling, soccer, more swimming, and a whole host of other fun things to do.
So, yeah...word from the lawyer is that the appeal won't likely be wrapped up until Feb or March of 2012 - 18 or 19 months after we started down this long, winding, dangerous road, and either the month or the month after Vicky is due. Surprisingly enough, from what I saw on skype last night, while they were trying to get it to work, she's not huge, yet. I'm thinking back to how I looked at this time in 2008 (Bubba was born in Feb 2009), and it seemed like I was ENORMOUS. But then again, he was my 2nd, and it seemed like w/ #2, my body knew what to do, which means it packed on the pounds much quicker.
Considering Vicky did most of the skyping w/ Scooter last time Scooter was with us, I'll be able to monitor the weight gain with equal parts disinterest and fascination in the coming months.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
So, yeah. Crater Lake.
It was pretty awesome. Ben and his friend were there for a photography extravaganza (photogvaganza?). As such, they were hoping for some clouds in the evening we were there. So as not to disappoint, there was a short (20 minute?) thunderstorm just before sunset. The sky did some amazingly strange things. Bubba and I were tired, so we mostly stayed in the car, which also gave me a chance to listen to a little music of my choosing. And my choice?
Sky Phenomenon by Jens Lekman, of course. Please excuse the accent (radder?). He's Swedish...
I've kind of been stuck on him for a while, now. Ben still hasn't given him a listen, but I think he'd like Jens. Ben doesn't generally take music advice from me. Mostly b/c he hears me singing horrible 1990s songs all day long. I figure if I can get someone else to suggest Ben give Jens a listen, he'll end up coming around. Kind of like M Ward...Of course, if Ben reads this, he'll insist that he discovered M first. He may have. But I doubt it.
But seriously...that sky was crazy awesome. I hope some of Ben's photos turned out. I'd post one or two of my own just to kind of give you an idea of how insane it was, but I didn't bring my camera to the photogvaganza. Not that I'd be able to compete w/ the hubby or the hubby-buddy in that department, anyway. A link to Ben's friend, Buck's blog, in case you want to check out his photography and purchase a print.
And a sampling of the sky from that night. Buck was so kind as to let me post one of his photos. I might re-visit this in the future to put one of Ben's up as well.
Sky Phenomenon by Jens Lekman, of course. Please excuse the accent (radder?). He's Swedish...
I've kind of been stuck on him for a while, now. Ben still hasn't given him a listen, but I think he'd like Jens. Ben doesn't generally take music advice from me. Mostly b/c he hears me singing horrible 1990s songs all day long. I figure if I can get someone else to suggest Ben give Jens a listen, he'll end up coming around. Kind of like M Ward...Of course, if Ben reads this, he'll insist that he discovered M first. He may have. But I doubt it.
But seriously...that sky was crazy awesome. I hope some of Ben's photos turned out. I'd post one or two of my own just to kind of give you an idea of how insane it was, but I didn't bring my camera to the photogvaganza. Not that I'd be able to compete w/ the hubby or the hubby-buddy in that department, anyway. A link to Ben's friend, Buck's blog, in case you want to check out his photography and purchase a print.
And a sampling of the sky from that night. Buck was so kind as to let me post one of his photos. I might re-visit this in the future to put one of Ben's up as well.
Monday, August 22, 2011
When life hands you a toilet...
...pee in it. A friend and I made up that little tidbit of wisdom in high school, and it totally sums up my day.
Today was a long one. Our car got towed last night. We live in an apartment complex. We rent TWO parking spaces (one for each car). We pay money every month for the privilege of parking outside. And we got towed because we forgot to put the little hangy tag on the rear view mirror. Poop.
I drove to work today for the first time in months - since December or so. I walked outside, got in my car, pulled out and left without noticing that the Subaru wasn't where it was supposed to be. Ben called me at work (from his friend's phone, since he lost his this weekend) to give me the news. I left work, raced home, and we spent the next couple of hours tracking down the car. I had to high-tail it back to work because I had a doctor's appointment, which is ridiculous. I agonized over finding a doctor. Normally, I'd opt for one close to home. I took a chance on one down the street from my work. If I had chosen one closer to home, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but as it was, I was 8 minutes late, and they have a 10 minute limit, after which they cancel your appointment. I made it just under the wire. Ugh.
When I left work, I searched the 2+ block parking lot for my car. I had forgotten that I had moved it after I returned from the morning jaunt and was looking in the area in which I originally had parked. I called Ben panicking that the car had somehow gotten towed, even though I have a work sticker on my window. After that, I was later than I wanted to be to pick up Bubba. When I got home, I had a letter from the lawyer waiting for me. $5,000 retainer due for the appeal. The ex filed his notice of intent to appeal late last week. I got the notification today. Ugh!!! And I was unable to skype with (or even talk to) Scooter tonight. Bummer of a day.
When I looked in the fridge, I realized that Ben had taken the last 2 beers with him on his trip to the coast. So I did what any sane person would do. I broke open the mini bottles of vodka that I had received as a gag gift from work 5 years ago. There was a full pitcher of lemonade in the fridge, which was a perfect compliment to this awesome (sarcasm, here) day. The one bright note was skyping with the in-laws (until skype crapped out on us).
I thought it was bad that I forgot my camera on our "photography" trip to Crater Lake this weekend. It turns out, that was only the beginning. Tomorrow's agenda includes calling the lawyer's office to officially put them on retainer for the appeal (it's treated as a separate transaction for billing purposes). After that, I guess it's just a long wait until this thing gets resolved once and for all. On the plus side, there's only 5 days until Scooter flies back with me.
Today was a long one. Our car got towed last night. We live in an apartment complex. We rent TWO parking spaces (one for each car). We pay money every month for the privilege of parking outside. And we got towed because we forgot to put the little hangy tag on the rear view mirror. Poop.
I drove to work today for the first time in months - since December or so. I walked outside, got in my car, pulled out and left without noticing that the Subaru wasn't where it was supposed to be. Ben called me at work (from his friend's phone, since he lost his this weekend) to give me the news. I left work, raced home, and we spent the next couple of hours tracking down the car. I had to high-tail it back to work because I had a doctor's appointment, which is ridiculous. I agonized over finding a doctor. Normally, I'd opt for one close to home. I took a chance on one down the street from my work. If I had chosen one closer to home, it wouldn't have been a big deal, but as it was, I was 8 minutes late, and they have a 10 minute limit, after which they cancel your appointment. I made it just under the wire. Ugh.
When I left work, I searched the 2+ block parking lot for my car. I had forgotten that I had moved it after I returned from the morning jaunt and was looking in the area in which I originally had parked. I called Ben panicking that the car had somehow gotten towed, even though I have a work sticker on my window. After that, I was later than I wanted to be to pick up Bubba. When I got home, I had a letter from the lawyer waiting for me. $5,000 retainer due for the appeal. The ex filed his notice of intent to appeal late last week. I got the notification today. Ugh!!! And I was unable to skype with (or even talk to) Scooter tonight. Bummer of a day.
When I looked in the fridge, I realized that Ben had taken the last 2 beers with him on his trip to the coast. So I did what any sane person would do. I broke open the mini bottles of vodka that I had received as a gag gift from work 5 years ago. There was a full pitcher of lemonade in the fridge, which was a perfect compliment to this awesome (sarcasm, here) day. The one bright note was skyping with the in-laws (until skype crapped out on us).
I thought it was bad that I forgot my camera on our "photography" trip to Crater Lake this weekend. It turns out, that was only the beginning. Tomorrow's agenda includes calling the lawyer's office to officially put them on retainer for the appeal (it's treated as a separate transaction for billing purposes). After that, I guess it's just a long wait until this thing gets resolved once and for all. On the plus side, there's only 5 days until Scooter flies back with me.
Friday, August 19, 2011
The Saga Continues...
My son still has that last binky. Monday night, we couldn't find it. It took FOREVER, but we finally located it, and he went to bed nicely.
Tuesday, he lost binky privileges. He had trouble listening at school, so he lost his pre-dinner mickey mouse clubhouse movie. That was pretty devastating. Then...he had trouble at the Nike store. What's left to lose? Binky. Oh, man. He actually took it quite well. We got ready for bed. He put his head on his pillow, closed his eyes nicely, and opened his mouth for his binky. I had to tell him that he didn't get a binky because he didn't listen at the store that evening. And you know what? He was OK with that. I mean, he cried for about 3 minutes, but after that, he flipped and flopped and cuddled with lamby and hippo until he fell asleep.
Wednesday, the binky was lost again. And this time, I didn't make any effot to find it. I mean, I did a cursory feel around his bed, and a quick look under, but then I just told him that I couldn't find it. He had trouble falling asleep, but he stayed in his bed and flipped around until he fell asleep. We're making slow progress.
Last night, Ben put the boy to bed. I had to run to the grocery to pick up food for our camping trip this weekend. Apparently, the binky is still lost. Bubba said he'd wait until I came home because then I'd find it (like I did on Monday, I guess). But he was asleep when I got home. Success!!!
The goal here is to have him off the binky before Scooter gets back from her dad's (AUG 28!!). I don't want him to be wailing in his bed about not having binky when Scooter's trying to fall asleep. The sensitive issue is that Ben's friend is coming into town today, and I also don't really want Bubba crying for hours on end when he's here, either. But I think we've turned a corner on this thing. I think we might be making baby steps in the right direction. I'm hoping.
Tuesday, he lost binky privileges. He had trouble listening at school, so he lost his pre-dinner mickey mouse clubhouse movie. That was pretty devastating. Then...he had trouble at the Nike store. What's left to lose? Binky. Oh, man. He actually took it quite well. We got ready for bed. He put his head on his pillow, closed his eyes nicely, and opened his mouth for his binky. I had to tell him that he didn't get a binky because he didn't listen at the store that evening. And you know what? He was OK with that. I mean, he cried for about 3 minutes, but after that, he flipped and flopped and cuddled with lamby and hippo until he fell asleep.
Wednesday, the binky was lost again. And this time, I didn't make any effot to find it. I mean, I did a cursory feel around his bed, and a quick look under, but then I just told him that I couldn't find it. He had trouble falling asleep, but he stayed in his bed and flipped around until he fell asleep. We're making slow progress.
Last night, Ben put the boy to bed. I had to run to the grocery to pick up food for our camping trip this weekend. Apparently, the binky is still lost. Bubba said he'd wait until I came home because then I'd find it (like I did on Monday, I guess). But he was asleep when I got home. Success!!!
The goal here is to have him off the binky before Scooter gets back from her dad's (AUG 28!!). I don't want him to be wailing in his bed about not having binky when Scooter's trying to fall asleep. The sensitive issue is that Ben's friend is coming into town today, and I also don't really want Bubba crying for hours on end when he's here, either. But I think we've turned a corner on this thing. I think we might be making baby steps in the right direction. I'm hoping.
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