In these trying times, when you can't count on your bank, your air quality, or your food sources, it nice to know there are a few things that still are dependable. Here's what I've found to be true...
1. Mom will always feed and water the dog, no matter how much someone else in the family wanted the pet.
2. Kids grow faster than you want them to.
3. Laundry never ends. Ever.
4. A clean sink does make facing the morning easier.
5. No one can decide on a Halloween costume a month in advance.
6. If you don't bring an umbrella, it will rain.
7. If you wash your car ... finally!... it will rain.
8. If you mow the yard and fertilize, it won't rain.
9. Dust bunnies multiply as fast as the furry kind.
10. Mom does know best.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
HALLOWEEN!
It's that most tremulous time of the year...and not just because the financial markets are cratering and the planet (and political scene) is overheating and there is poison in products coming out of China. No, around here the quaking and shaking has more to do with Halloween than it current events.
The kids are shivering because they try to out-scare each other with spooky tales and by jumping at each other from dark corners (lots of them in a big, old, historic house) at every possible opportunity. Robert and I have the shakes because it is time, once again, to plan our annual Halloween hayride. This has morphed from a small, one-bale high hay maze in the front yard designed with toddlers in mind to a BIG DEAL in our neighborhood -- complete with jack-o-lanterns, blow-up pumpkins, massively decorated hay lug with flashing halloween lights, costumed kids and now --thanks to the past droughts and subsequent high, high price of hay-- no hay maze...but always a few bales for jumping on and hiding behind.
The first annual soiree took place around Graham's 3rd birthday. For two hours, toddlers and preschoolers scampered over the hay dressed as mostly Bob the Builders and princesses. Three-month-old Amanda, dressed as a pumpkin, watched the festivities from her stroller up in the back of Robert's truck. Right next to her, dressed as I-can't-remember-what, was her friend Luca. Each year, the party has grown, the costumes evolving with whatever trendy movie or TV show...When Amanda was four, we had a passel of princesses...almost every little girl came as a Disney diva and we had everyone represented...from Snow White and Cinderella to Sleeping Beauty, Belle and Jasmine. The big boy costume? Spiderman and Batman. Lots of super heroes.
Now, we invite everyone in each of the kids' classes, as well as the neighbor kids and the kids of parents we like to hang out with. Every child must be accompanied by their parents...this is not a drop-off center! I only serve two things -- apple cider and donuts. Cake donuts, no breakfasty glazed donuts. Just cinnamon-sugar, plain, and powdered sugar cake donuts. Those two things -- donuts and cider -- just say "Fall" to my Northeastern sensibilities.
For the past two years, Robert and I have said, "Enough?" Can we stop now? Then we look at our daughter, three years younger and thus, three less Halloween Hayrides under her belt than her brother and we say, "Not yet." Not until this event is cemented in Amanda's brain as much as it is in our son's...Not until we have done it enough that the kids will look back fondly on this tradition that their parents "miraculously" pulled off each year. When we are sure we have secured a place in the scrapbook of their memories, then maybe we will stop and go to someone else's party. Until then, October makes us shiver...
The kids are shivering because they try to out-scare each other with spooky tales and by jumping at each other from dark corners (lots of them in a big, old, historic house) at every possible opportunity. Robert and I have the shakes because it is time, once again, to plan our annual Halloween hayride. This has morphed from a small, one-bale high hay maze in the front yard designed with toddlers in mind to a BIG DEAL in our neighborhood -- complete with jack-o-lanterns, blow-up pumpkins, massively decorated hay lug with flashing halloween lights, costumed kids and now --thanks to the past droughts and subsequent high, high price of hay-- no hay maze...but always a few bales for jumping on and hiding behind.
The first annual soiree took place around Graham's 3rd birthday. For two hours, toddlers and preschoolers scampered over the hay dressed as mostly Bob the Builders and princesses. Three-month-old Amanda, dressed as a pumpkin, watched the festivities from her stroller up in the back of Robert's truck. Right next to her, dressed as I-can't-remember-what, was her friend Luca. Each year, the party has grown, the costumes evolving with whatever trendy movie or TV show...When Amanda was four, we had a passel of princesses...almost every little girl came as a Disney diva and we had everyone represented...from Snow White and Cinderella to Sleeping Beauty, Belle and Jasmine. The big boy costume? Spiderman and Batman. Lots of super heroes.
Now, we invite everyone in each of the kids' classes, as well as the neighbor kids and the kids of parents we like to hang out with. Every child must be accompanied by their parents...this is not a drop-off center! I only serve two things -- apple cider and donuts. Cake donuts, no breakfasty glazed donuts. Just cinnamon-sugar, plain, and powdered sugar cake donuts. Those two things -- donuts and cider -- just say "Fall" to my Northeastern sensibilities.
For the past two years, Robert and I have said, "Enough?" Can we stop now? Then we look at our daughter, three years younger and thus, three less Halloween Hayrides under her belt than her brother and we say, "Not yet." Not until this event is cemented in Amanda's brain as much as it is in our son's...Not until we have done it enough that the kids will look back fondly on this tradition that their parents "miraculously" pulled off each year. When we are sure we have secured a place in the scrapbook of their memories, then maybe we will stop and go to someone else's party. Until then, October makes us shiver...
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Plastic Panic
They are gone. Every one of them...Every piece of poisonous plastic in the house as determined by Nat Geo's Green magazine. If you are a plastic cup or plate or bottle numbered with something other than 1, 2, 4, or 5 in a little triangle on the bottom, you have been removed and recycled. Polycarbonate plastic is usually that hard, clear plastic, which has been shown to accellerate puberty and a rash of other terrible things.
Sadly, that means every princess or spiderman or dora or bob the builder plastic cup my tykes grew up with will not be around to be handed down to potential grandchildren. Not sad because I want them to drink liquid with leached-out plastic poisons like my poor kids, but because they were so cute. If you missed all the studies that have come out recently on specifically bisphenol A (aka #7 ) plastics and how they are causing hormone upheavals and cancer, well I couldn't really blame you. I found the info BURIED on like page 65 of a Tuesday Dallas Morning News. The article really couldn't have been smaller or it would have been considered a classified ad. But there it was -- studies conclude plastics are not good. Specifically the plastics used in BABY BOTTLES!!!!!! Thank goodness I nursed my kids, but they did drink plenty of beverages out of the aforementioned cute little #7 glasses.
Oh and by the way, all those Ozarka bottles on top of the water coolers all around us -- the ones I ordered because I thought bottled water was better than our highly chlorinated municipal tap water...well, they are #7, too, and as clear and hard as any plastic could be. I guess I don't need to tell you we cancelled our Ozarka account...even though the customer service rep promised me their studies showed that #7 is just fine. I put a filter on the tap and we carry our own stainless steel or SIGG bottles of Mommy-filtered H2O.
I have always fed my kids so carefully...mostly organic, ONLY organic milk and mostly from cardboard containers, local eggs and meat, no sugar. So it really irritates me that I missed the plastic connection. Anyhow, for all of you who missed it, too, you can no longer plead ignorant. You have been warned. Check it out for yourself by googling bisphenol A or polycarbonate plastic.
Sadly, that means every princess or spiderman or dora or bob the builder plastic cup my tykes grew up with will not be around to be handed down to potential grandchildren. Not sad because I want them to drink liquid with leached-out plastic poisons like my poor kids, but because they were so cute. If you missed all the studies that have come out recently on specifically bisphenol A (aka #7 ) plastics and how they are causing hormone upheavals and cancer, well I couldn't really blame you. I found the info BURIED on like page 65 of a Tuesday Dallas Morning News. The article really couldn't have been smaller or it would have been considered a classified ad. But there it was -- studies conclude plastics are not good. Specifically the plastics used in BABY BOTTLES!!!!!! Thank goodness I nursed my kids, but they did drink plenty of beverages out of the aforementioned cute little #7 glasses.
Oh and by the way, all those Ozarka bottles on top of the water coolers all around us -- the ones I ordered because I thought bottled water was better than our highly chlorinated municipal tap water...well, they are #7, too, and as clear and hard as any plastic could be. I guess I don't need to tell you we cancelled our Ozarka account...even though the customer service rep promised me their studies showed that #7 is just fine. I put a filter on the tap and we carry our own stainless steel or SIGG bottles of Mommy-filtered H2O.
I have always fed my kids so carefully...mostly organic, ONLY organic milk and mostly from cardboard containers, local eggs and meat, no sugar. So it really irritates me that I missed the plastic connection. Anyhow, for all of you who missed it, too, you can no longer plead ignorant. You have been warned. Check it out for yourself by googling bisphenol A or polycarbonate plastic.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Time flies
Standing at the sink window looking out over the dusky backyard...washing out a hot wheels thermos so g can have chili tomorrow for his school lunch and suddenly it washes over me once again just how fast kids grow up.
One minute, you are bleary-eyed, stumbling through a nightlit hallway to the nursery to comfort or feed a mewing newborn in the wee hours of the night. You are hauling half the nursery with you every time you leave the house. Your diaper bag replaces the purse you used to carry in pre-kid days. Driving in the car means latching and attaching and tucking and chucking toys and goldfish into tiny hands. Do you have hand sanitizer and baby wipes and play dough and snacks and water and a blanket for the park and a ball and a change of clothes and an extra shirt for you in case someone loves on you with icky, sticky hands or barfs or worse.
And then, one day, you walk out to the car and realize everyone has latched their own seatbelts after letting themselves in and are sitting there with books or toys THEY brought and sipping water from their SIGGS and wondering what took YOU so long to get there. And you feel proud and sad and happy and nostalgic and free all at once. That snuggy baby head smell is now replaced with equally good in its own way sweaty boy hair smell and lavender shampoo girl hair smell.
You want and need your kids to grow up. You want them to have independence and wings and self-sufficiency. But you still want them to want you. My mom was right -- kids are your little kids no matter how big they get. I just don't want to miss any of it. Sappy. Maybe. Who cares.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
To Gray or Not To Gray
That is the question. I can't decide if it's nobler to go au natural with silvery streaks or keep up the facade of faux color. Do I really look younger with no gray? Could I look young and hip with gray? And what the heck is my natural color anyway???
I have been streaking, tinting, highlighting and plain old coloring my hair since college. Honestly, I am not sure what my "natural" color really is anymore. Chestnut? Black? Basic brown? Tawny? Taupe? I'll bet even my hairdresser doesn't know for sure! All I do for sure is that there sure is a lot of silver (which sounds better than gray).
Those women I see who look great gray are the ones with a cute cut and updated clothes. Face it, you cannot be shlumpy and have gray hair. Especially if you have young kids like I do. Shlumpy with fleece mom clothes and gray hair = being mistaken for you kid's grammy. However, chic clothes, tres chic hairstyle, and a trim, toned body = Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. Meryl Streep looked fabulous in that movie. That's the right hair right there.
I don't know but women of a certain age who tint their tresses and get the color too even or too dark...well, it doesn't look right. No one's hair is totally monotone. Gotta have highlights and low lights to look right. And too brassy ... also not so good. It's a fine line to walk when you start pushing the half century mark.
And what about all that maintenance? Can't swim in chlorine because it will mess up the color. Can't use any old shampoo because it will mess up the color. Can't go to long without touching up the color or you look like a reverse skunk with a streak of white down the middle. I don't want to think about my hair that much any more...which isn't to say that I don't want to think about how I look. With the financial meltdown and global warming and the plastics poisoning and everything else, I guess obsessing about hair seems minor. Thank God my husband thinks I look good either way.
I have been streaking, tinting, highlighting and plain old coloring my hair since college. Honestly, I am not sure what my "natural" color really is anymore. Chestnut? Black? Basic brown? Tawny? Taupe? I'll bet even my hairdresser doesn't know for sure! All I do for sure is that there sure is a lot of silver (which sounds better than gray).
Those women I see who look great gray are the ones with a cute cut and updated clothes. Face it, you cannot be shlumpy and have gray hair. Especially if you have young kids like I do. Shlumpy with fleece mom clothes and gray hair = being mistaken for you kid's grammy. However, chic clothes, tres chic hairstyle, and a trim, toned body = Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada. Meryl Streep looked fabulous in that movie. That's the right hair right there.
I don't know but women of a certain age who tint their tresses and get the color too even or too dark...well, it doesn't look right. No one's hair is totally monotone. Gotta have highlights and low lights to look right. And too brassy ... also not so good. It's a fine line to walk when you start pushing the half century mark.
And what about all that maintenance? Can't swim in chlorine because it will mess up the color. Can't use any old shampoo because it will mess up the color. Can't go to long without touching up the color or you look like a reverse skunk with a streak of white down the middle. I don't want to think about my hair that much any more...which isn't to say that I don't want to think about how I look. With the financial meltdown and global warming and the plastics poisoning and everything else, I guess obsessing about hair seems minor. Thank God my husband thinks I look good either way.
Fall is Here.
It's October. Fall. Temperatures no longer tickling the triple digits. YAY! The kids want pumpkins and festive fall yard art that I will have to haul from the attic and dust off before stabbing the stakes of scarecrows, ghosts and witches into the front yard and garden. I'm making crockpot chili for dinner because it's finally cool enough to enjoy it. I tried to wear a long sleeve shirt on the morning mom marathon dash to school this a.m. but it is still too warm for running in long sleeves. And on Tuesdays, I have to RUN twice up the hill because Graham has GT at 8:15 and can't miss the bus and then Amanda has class at regular time so it's grab a kid and go up the hill, literally RUN back down, grab another kid and dash back up to school. By the time the late bell rings, I have already done at least a mile ... outside the house. And you know, I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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