Packing List for Chick Trip

Tomorrow evening I'm heading up north for a girl's scrapbooking weekend. Everyone shares responsibility for meals, and because of That One Time (Okay, those VERY FEW times) that I just happened to fill the cottage up with smoke in my attempts to make French Toast, I am in charge of "other." Here is what I have ready:

2 Rental Movies: "Evening" and "Music and Lyrics." Chick Flicks. There will also be the full series of SATC. We have been known to just put "Bridget Jones Diary" in and let it repeat in a continuous loop, but it's time for something new.

Ho-Ho's. Hostess brand, not the Little Debbie kind that I picked up once when I was in a rush, and will now forever be know as "Faux Ho's." Also Raspberry Milano Cookies, Gihardelli Mint Chocolates, and frozen turtle cookie dough.

Kettle flavor popcorn, Garlic Hommous, Salsa, and Chips.

Frozen Pizza Rolls

Grapes

Margarita Mix

Oprah Magazine

Paper plates and napkins. I went with a red-and-white checkered theme. No one wants to do dishes.

Plus my clothes and gaint roller-luggage of scrapbooking supplies, ready to go.


I'm looking forward to a fun weekend. I hope you have a good one too!


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UPDATE

We had a nice time, and I got a lot of pages done. I brought too much food (possible oxymoron?) and those two movies were BAD. I still don't understand why the nurse was wearing that white party dress. But it's always great to get away, and have fun being with the girls.

A Cheater and a Thief

I decided to go shopping. I really needed to get some new clothes for work. I didn't get enough the first time and I've found that when I don't like what I have on, it really affects my attitude about the day. The only problem is that I'm just not a very good shopper. I don't have the natural knack for it like Mary Beth or Susie, and I'm also hard to fit, my proportions never seem to match up to whatever they had in mind when they constructed the clothes. And I don't put outfits together very well. What I think is a great "tweedy look" has been described by my helpful friends as "Miss Jane Hathaway." If there was some kind of service where I could just sign up to have perfectly fitting, in-style and appropriate clothing delivered straight to my mailbox every season I'd do that and skip the stores altogether.

I had mentioned to Mary Beth on the phone that I was thinking about going to Parisian on Saturday. After we hung up the phone rang and it was her again, making sure I knew that they were having a sale event where you get extra discounts if you bring in items to donate to Goodwill. She would have felt bad if she had let me go to the store without knowing this.

So I went down to the basement where I knew we had a bag of stuff that I set aside for our next donation. A lot of it was old sweatpants that really should have just been turned into rags. I wasn't sure how this was going to work, walking into a fancy store full of beautiful things with some old stuff and then saving money on new stuff. And what was going to happen when I got there, would one of those manicured sales ladies inspect my goods and then decide if they were discount worthy? Nervously I decided on quality over quantity and selected a polo shirt of Larry's that was still very nice, a pair of never-worn brightly colored slipper-socks that had been taking up all the room in my sock drawer, and a pair of expensive-looking black shoes that Becky had passed along to me because they fit her weird, and they didn't fit me right either. I put them into a bag and headed out to shop.

When I got to the store there was a lady at a table. I held up my bag and she said "Do you have five items in there?" I said, "Well, kind of..." As I considered whether a PAIR of something was one item or two. She just handed me a pack of 5 coupons stapled together, and told me to put my bag into one of the giant bins behind me. So I flung the bag in without anyone seeing what what was in it. Five coupons for 20% off of an item. But I felt a little guilty about it.

Right near there was the jewelry counter. I picked out a pair of tiger-eye earrings and some gold hoops. Then I went upstairs and made the circle around the ladies clothing department two times, but didn't find anything I even wanted to try on. I went over to the children's area and picked up sweatshirts for the boys, on sale plus the coupon makes it a very good deal. Suddenly, loud music started playing and a pack of little girls with makeup and hairpieces leaped out of an area labeled "Libby Lu." They wore matching clothes and had little backpacks with something about shopping on them. A birthday party, I think. Then a saleslady led them in a little dance, something about shopping. "Pay attention girls," I thought, "or you'll turn out like me!" I followed the parade of them down the escalator, to the purse area.

I have had my purse for a couple of years, it is my best fashion purchase EVER. I got it at a purse party at Heather's. Alisa and Lynn came along and convinced me to buy it so we could do a buy 2 get one 1/2 off deal and split the savings. It is very cute. So cute that wherever I go, women off all types shout out at me "CUTE PURSE!" But now it's getting old, the fake designer label has fallen off and it's looking a little ragged. And it gapes open because it's not big enough for all my stuff. So I began shopping for a new one. I had to shuffle around the things I was holding so that I could weigh the different choices, trying to gage how heavy each would be without the stuffing but with all my contents. I finally settled on this one because even though there are buckles it is lightweight and there is this little LIGHT in there that goes on when you open it! Now that I had five items I started towards the register but when I looked at my things...there was only ONE gold hoop earring on the little holder card thing. I furtively placed it on a counter with some tags and employee type things.

So you probably guessed by now that when I got home and transferred the things from my old purse to my new one...there was that other gold hoop earring! NOW what am I supposed to do with it? Bringing it back to the store would be inconvenient and waste a lot of gas, and would they ever be able to match it with it's partner after a few days? Find a needy pirate with a pierced ear? Any one out there want it? Please advise, dear blog readers, I will do whatever you say is right.

A Machine for any Gender

Now that I'm back at work it seems like there is so much less time leftover for everything else. But I'm trying to keep my priorities straight, and remember that quality time spent with my boys ranks highest. Except that they are getting to the ages where their top choices for things to do aren't inclined to involve their mother. So this morning, even though I was feeling, er, tired after a late night out celebrating Alisa's birthday, I was agreeable when Jeffrey woke me up and told me all about his idea for a special project we could do today.

Jeffrey told me that today we could go to the fabric store and get some of the fuzzy fabric that he saw when we were there several months ago. And then we could make a new bed for our little cat Missy. Okay, we can do that! Never mind that Missy already has 2 beds and there are giant piles of laundry and dirty floors and dishes all around, my little boy wants to spend time doing something with his Mommy so that's what we'll do.

I have so enjoyed having sons but when they were first born I had that pang of regret that I would never get to to all the girl things that mothers and daughters are supposed to do together. Like go to the fabric store to get materials for craft projects. I see them around, dressed nicely and shopping together, holding up items and remarking about how cute they are. And I think about how different that is from me hollering down the aisle at two boys who are trying to see how far they can coast the shopping cart with both of them standing on it. But strangely enough, they do like the fabric store. And if you think about it, it is a cool place, all these colorful bolts stacked high, every one different, and all the gizmos and gadgets and organizers and things to see, and the possibilities they all hold for a new creation yet to be assembled. And there's nothing that says you have to be female to appreciate that.

I think that I have become hyper-sensitive about making sexist assumptions from having to overcome so much of that throughout my career of trying to be accepted as an engineer at an auto company. I eventually had to face the fact that there I was in one of the most macho saturated industries striving against the hard held belief that to deserve to be there you need motor oil running through your veins instead of blood. And I did not grow up playing with little cars and tinkering under the hood of my first jalopy like all of them. I played with a my Barbie camper and tinkered with my sewing machine. So now I believe that while Corvette worship may be a predominantly male characteristic, mechanical ability isn't necessarily gender specific.

Which brings me back to the situation of my son's fascination with sewing. If they are not already conditioned to think that it is a thing for girls, then you can see why they would be attracted to this object that has a speed-control pedal, and makes a choppy noise, and comes with a nifty tool kit including lube oil and you can make stuff with it. So we found some fleece with cat heads on it, and spent a long time designing and constructing this fabulous creation. Some real quality time, meaning that we had fun and enjoyed each other's company doing something together.

And I go on being the mother of 2 boys, and everything that comes with that, and if I ever feel like I'm missing out on some special female activities, well, I can just go and put a tutu on the cat.

New Melinda

I had to go to the ID Center to get my badge security changed so I can use the back door and that really good parking area. Only problem is, I hate that place. Ever since That One Time a couple of years ago when I was rushing around like a maniac like I always was and some security guard stopped me and threatened to confiscate my computer if I didn't go right to the ID center and get a number changed on my property pass. So I went right there even though I was in the mode of trying to do about eighteen tasks at once and simply couldn't get it all done no matter what and now this. So when I got there and they asked me for my paperwork I think I kind of went ballistic. Dagger eyes and maybe a few dagger words too. So I half expected to see my face on a WANTED poster on the wall when I got there.

This time I had an email that said all I needed to do was fill out an online form and then forward it to my boss and one other person and all would happen automatically. So I did that, and got a message back that said I still needed to go to the ID Center. So I printed the form and got them both to sign it, and then drove over to the dreaded center. (at least I get to go outside) And when I got there I told the security lady why I was there, and she swiped my card through her machine and then said; "You're already approved, you didn't need to come here!" I looked at her name plate, and saw that she was the person who had sent the message.

Then the most remarkable thing... "Oh well then! Thanks anyways!" I heard New Melinda saying. How very curious. New Melinda isn't a stressed out wreck and therefore can handle these things with grace. She has new shoes with little fish on them. I think I like her a lot! Let's hope she stays around.

What did I do?

Now that I've gotten through the first week (well, 3 day mini-week) of going to work, and the kids going back to school, things seem to be falling into place. In a lot of ways they seem to be going back to the way they were before. Which makes it seem like the last several months hardly even happened. What did I do all that time anyways? Sit around and look out at the lake? Whoops, retrospective amnesia. Do you ever get this? I went and looked at some of my old blogs to see what I had been up to while I was home. Scrapbooking is also helpful for this. Then I can look at the things we've done and say "Oh yeah, we do things, go places, have a happy life."



I sometimes get this way on a smaller scale. I was reading Amy's blog where she lists all of the things she did over labor day weekend. Boy she did a lot! Made me feel my life must be BORING in comparison. So I force myself to remember what I did do. OK so we went to the Peach Festival, and bike riding, and Becky came over, and we spent the day with the Franchi Family, and there was church, and Cale's Big Birthday Party, and out to dinner and to see a concert (Hootie and the Blowfish) with Lynn and Alisa. But she has a picture of Joel tile-ing their bathroom. I wish I had a husband who did stuff like that around the house. Oh, wait, didn't Larry spend the whole day Saturday on a ladder painting the exterior wood trim? I almost forgot about that.



Anyways, now that I've got a few days behind me I'm not nervous about going to work so much. I'm still nervous about whether the kids will be ok but that's always there. It was 90 degrees out this week so I had to wear some of my older clothes (the new stuff is too wintery) but I did wear the new shoes. I have been spending most of my time reading up on what they do in that department. My only complaint so far is that there isn't a window nearby that I can sometimes look out of. I have also connected with some of my good friends from engineering. Which is nice except for being reminded of things from the past that I had finally managed to NOT think about while I was off. (This is where the retroactive amnesia can come in handy) And the people in my new area have been incredibly welcoming. Well, maybe not incredible, they could simply be normal, but compared to when...wait! Never mind! It would be even handier if I could somehow selectively control my amnesia episodes!



So everything is fine, thanks again to all of you for you support with whatever it is I'm going through, it really does help, as always I feel grateful for the many wonderful people I have in my life. (I don't so easily forget that.) I have to go now, I have things to do, such as...go sit around and look at the lake!

A beginning...the End?

I had my first day of work today. It went fine. But last night I didn't really feel like I wanted to go. You know how it is when you are facing some big change that is about to happen. It's like standing at the edge of a diving board, looking down. You know you don't really want to jump. Because everything is all nice and dry, the way you like it, and after this it will be different. Wet. And what if it isn't good, and you can't do it, and water goes up your nose and you are miserable, and what if you get hurt, or sink, or smack into something? What if this is the last moment of happiness you will ever have and then everything is wrecked and it's too late? Then you jump and it's here and your alarm goes off and it's happening and there are bubbles coming out of your nose and you're rising to the surface, and then you know it's going to be ok, you can handle it, make it all work out, swim to the side, even do it again, drive home.

So now that my first day is over I feel better about it, the people seem nice and there was cake. (Someone was leaving the department that day.) I got her desk, and a piece of the cake. And if you know me at all you know how I am about cake.

Maybe I should stop the blog now, end of story, but I think I'll keep it going. It is my artistic expression. I won't be writing about the specifics of my job or the people there. And I'll have less time for this. But I hope you keep on checking in with me, and we'll find out what happens next.

Subpoenaed!

I got an official looking letter in the mail. I have been ordered to appear in court! From what I can tell, this has to do with the rollover accident that I witnessed a couple months ago. You know, the one where the only thing I noticed was the color of the truck that rolled over. But I did give my name and address to the cop who showed up. I suppose I should call the lawyers and tell them how useless I will be, but I have never been a witness before, and I'm kinda looking forward to the experience. (And I can wear my new suit)

I am fascinated with the legal process. I was called to jury duty several years ago and the case was rather pointless but I was enthralled with the drama of it being acted out before my eyes. And I liked the deliberating part. The jurors quickly elected ME their foreman, and then we all admitted that we wished someone would have screamed out You want the truth? You can't HANDLE the truth! And when I got to read off the verdict I wanted to say "Not-guilty-AMUNDO" but I didn't.

Even though my father was an attorney I have had very little exposure to courtroom drama. He never liked us to watch legal shows because he thought they were fake and that he didn't like to bring his work home into his house. (Although I have come to find out that in other families the kids didn't have to sign a contract regarding whose day it was to do the dishes.)

So my knowledge of the courtroom process has come from sitcoms and soap operas. Such as last month on General Hospital where Liz had to testify about what she was doing with Jason on the night that Alcazar was allegedly killed, which calls into question the paternity of baby Jake. Poor Lucky!

I doubt if any paternity secrets are going to be revealed in this car accident case, but if someone shows up in a neck brace I am going to throw my briefcase on the floor.

Objection! Sustained!

Rampant Consumerism

So there we were in Target to pick up a few last school supplies from Jeff's list, and a birthday present for my nephew Cale. Oh, and while we were there a few other things such as this shower cleaner spray that is scented like ylang ylang. The last time I bought a bottle of shower cleaner spray I had it in my hand and then put it back since I wasn't working and bought the cheaper stuff that smells like a cleaner but now since I'm going to work I can get the fancy kind.

Anyways, we made our way through the store with the boys doing their usual requesting of candy and unneeded items (unlike that shower spray which has a USE) and me saying NO and stop asking me for stuff! We got in line and as the checkout lady beeped each of our things I fished out a coupon from my wallet and handed it to her: "Can I use this?" She looked at it and read that it was for $5 off a $75 purchase. She then hit the total key and announced that we had only spent $28.54 how could that be all? Oh, but then I held up the bag with the video game we'd gotten for Cale, we paid for it at the electronics counter, "Can I count this?" The checkout lady, who was very cooperative, said she could ring it up as a return and then we could add it together. OK! I agreed as the line behind us started to build. But the game was $40 so we weren't quite up to the $75. And the coupon will expire before the next time I go to a Target.

"Boys! Buy some stuff!" I gazed around at what we could snatch up without getting out of line. Candy! Gum! Beef Jerky! Soap Opera Digest! Jeffrey hollered out a complaint in his little voice: "First you tell us NOT to buy anything and NOW!"

We ended up getting out of line and picking out some makeup that I knew I would need and was on sale. Then we got back in the line and she rang it up with the $5.00 off, and then handed me an extra receipt paper: FREE 6 to 8 pk Reese Crispy Crunchy snack.....I hesitated.....and then we just got out of there.

A sugar by any other name...

We took a road trip to an amusement park and at a rest stop let the boys pick a beverage from the vending machine. From the backseat:

"Mine has less than 1 percent real fruit juice!"

"Well mine has phosphoric acid!"

"So! Mine has corn syrup!"

"Yeah, well mine has HIGH FRUCTOSE corn syrup!"

So there.

Jeffrey also enjoys his sugar as a fluffed up solid.

Back to...Something New

This time of year is all about "Back to School." Our state recently passed a law that mandates schools to start after labor day, so the summer seems really long now. The beginning of September has always symbolized a new beginning, in fact it has always seemed to me more like the start of a new year than the one in January. I can remember as a kid we would ride our bikes over to the school every day at the end of August waiting to see if they posted the class lists on the doors. It was then that you would find out who your teacher was, and who your classmates would be, and in what room it would all happen. They don't do it that way nowadays, we just get a letter in the mail with the teacher's name and room number. But the effect is the same, it's just before a whole new year where everything would be different than it had been before, and everything is a possibility. And we would have fresh new clothes, and a set of mint condition school supplies, and even a new lunchbox. I know that sometimes I would imagine myself with a whole new personality to go with it all such as "Now I will be elegant and sophisticated!" or "Now I will be very organized and always write in blue pen."



It wasn't until a few years into my career when I noticed that this wasn't happening anymore; that September was just like any other month. I missed all of that newness. And there have been times when I might have liked to turn in my project, boss, and coworkers and spin the wheel for a whole new set, better or worse at least they'd be different. Not that there was ever a shortage of things changing, it's just that it was never quite as total and predictable as the start of a new school year.



So I am very pleased with the timing of my going back to work. My first day is going to be September 5, and it feels a lot like Back to School. I'll have a boss, and colleagues, and a project, but at this moment they are the unknown, chock full of possibility, and it's exciting not to know anything about them yet. It's like getting a magazine in the mail, unwrinkled and unread.



I was amused to learn that I will be getting my old passes, pager, and computer back. For whatever reason my old boss still had them, and the new department has picked them up. It was a little hard to part with these items when I left, they were so familiar they felt like appendages to my body, and I look forward to being reunited with them, weird as that is.



And I took Heather's advice and went shopping for new work clothes. I ordered a black pantsuit from Eddie Bauer, because it bothered me that I didn't have one to wear to my interview. Larry pointed out that I already got the job and therefore don't need an interview suit, but I am thinking of an email that was forwarded all around on the subject of "Every Woman Should Have" and it said interview suit, and if I'm not going to get my life advice from email forwards then where? I also got some of these sweaters that look like there is a shirt underneath but it is attached. Hard to describe but they looked kind of backtoschooly which I liked. And I got some shoes that I thought looked like what a grown-up professional woman should be wearing, instead of the ones I had reverted to in the last couple of years because they didn't hurt my feet but were once likened to the shoes of Mickey Mouse. And since it was B1G1 1/2 off, I got a second pair simply because they are cute and they have little fish on the sides. So I am READY.

Carjacker in a pink T-shirt

Ok so I think now I am over it enough to tell you about the other Thing That Happened when I was at the car dealership on Wednesday. It was just after I had turned in my car for the condenser repair, and I was looking up at that mission statement sign, and the guy said that Peggy was ready to give me a ride back home, and he gestured towards an older woman I saw hovering nearby. "She'll just pull around to the front here and pick you up."
So I contemplated the sign for a moment more and then walked a few steps out of the service garage while I dug out my cell phone so I could take that nice blurry picture of my car in there. I saw a sedan driven by an older woman pull up so I went around to the passenger side and opened the door. I leaned in and she looked up at me, surprised. I wondered if I should be getting into the back seat? And she had a purse on the seat, so I reached in and started to nudge it over so I could swing my butt in. And that's when her expression turned from shock to horror, and I figured out what was happening here. I did this silent mouthing of an explanation and apology, and gesturing with a brand new sign language I just made up. Then I saw another sedan pull around with Peggy in it and I just ran over and got in.
Note to self: PAY MORE ATTENTION!!!

Kickin' up a fuss

It is hard to know when it is appropriate to "kick up a fuss" in order to get what you want or need. I was confronted with this twice today.

In the morning I took Tim to 7th grade registration. I was a little peeved when the paperwork came in the mail for this and there was a letter informing parents that an incoming 6th grade student has a peanut allergy and outlining the precautions that were being taken. A similar letter had come out at the end of last year, and I promptly called the principal and asked him why different actions were being taken for that child when there was ALREADY a child in the outgoing 6th grade class. (Tim) He didn't have a lot to say about it which indicated to me that the difference was that the parent of the younger child can "kick up a fuss" better than me. Also, the day after school let out I went to pick up the EpiPen, and when I requested it at the office the lady started rummaging through a drawer muttering "Now where is that?" and then turned to me and said "it's not here, I guess." I guess my dagger-shooting stare prompted her to go and ask someone else and then rummage through a different drawer from which she finally produced the EMERGENCY LIFE SAVING MEDICATION. God help them if the stuff had been needed for an actual urgent reaction.

I had recently complained about this to my friend Sharon, who is the mother of one of Tim's buddies. Sharon is the very definition of assertiveness, she always gets her way.

We were getting ready to leave the registration and I heard someone hissing "Mindeeeee" and it was Sharon. She said "Go and talk to the new vice principal, she's over there. I told her you'd be coming by to discuss your issues with the allergy!" So I went over to her and introduced Tim and expressed how I thought that the school should have a consistent policy. "Oh I agree! I'll make SURE that this is discussed during our meetings next week!" I'm kinda hoping that she'll kick up a fuss about it!

Then in the afternoon we had an appointment at the Saturn dealership to have my car looked at AGAIN. I had it in for the A/C in June, and they said they could not find a leak. Well now it's running warm again and there was a puddle of green goonk in the garage so I took it back. The service guy said it would take about an hour, so we agreed to wait since the dealership is far away and we were armed with DS Game Boys for entertainment. Well after about that long the service guy came up to me and said that they had found a hairline crack in the condenser and that's a big job. He said I should bring it back tomorrow and that they'd just have it run through the car wash and we'd be on our way. So we waited a couple of minutes and then gathered up our things and went to the check-out girl to get the keys. She looked at me with her dopey eyes and shrugged "I don't have it yet." So we hung around waiting for the service guy to show up with the keys but he didn't. I asked her again, "Are you sure you don't have that?" Negative. So we wandered back over the waiting area. My soap opera was starting up on the TV but then they kept showing scenes inappropriate for little boys. I sat there and thought about how much do I NEED air conditioning. I kept going back to check with her. Nothing. Little Jeffrey started to complain and then, knowing that his mother is queen of the wimps, he decided to go into the service area to see if our car was there and check with the service guy himself. No car, no service guy. A couple more checks with the girl, and the Jeffrey decided we should go looking for our car, and so we did and found it it the done car area, clean and DRY. So we went back to the girl and I told her that I knew my car was done and it had now been an HOUR since the guy talked to me. An HOUR that I could have been doing...well anything else but THIS. At that moment the service guy materialized. He looked at the girl. "What's going on? Why didn't you give her the keys? She's coming back, there's no paperwork." And then she blinked her dopey eyes and reached under the counter that I was leaning on and produced...MY KEYS!!!! The service guy apologized, he said he had been in a meeting. He said that he would take a little more off of my bill. I just shot the checkout girl my dagger eyes look and got the heck out of there so we could go and sit in the rush hour traffic that was starting to form. Tomorrow I find out exactly how much $$ one hour of my time is worth. I'll let you know what it is.

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OK so I got there this morning and they had to search all around for my paperwork and then a service lady hands it to me and asks me to sign it. But it said $557 on it and I wasn't signing THAT. So as I questioned the paperwork (my Dad taught me to do that) yesterday's service guy came up and said that they weren't charging me for the part, just the labor, which is $225, and then he wrote down $200 on the paper. So that's it, $25 for my hour of waiting. Then they had some other lady drive me home (was I supposed to tip her?) It's funny that they have a sign up with their mission statement, something about exceeding expectations. And now since I expect them to mess up...mission accomplished?

OK so now I've got my car back blowing out nice cold air. When I went to pay the bill it was $198 which is LESS than the $200 he had said. AND I got this nifty coupon book with discounts for car services from them and things like donuts and dry cleaning at local businesses. I just might have to give them a good grade on the customer satisfaction survey after all.

Five First Friends

"But I don't even know these kids!" Tim complained as we drove to a restaurant yesterday to meet for dinner with 4 other families.

"Yes you do, even if you don't remember them very well. So you'd better be friendly." I instructed.

I had arranged a reunion with a group of people we have come to know as our "Parenting Group." It started out just after Timmy was born, and someone in the hospital came by and asked whether we would be interested in participating in an experimental program they were involved with through MSU. It was to give support to new parents. I remembered that a co-worker named Laurie who'd had a baby at this same hospital had told me that she had done this and become great friends with the families in her group, so I said yes. For the first four months a person came to visit me at home, and after that we were set up with a group of people with babies of the same age, where we would meet twice a month for lectures on topics such as "Feeding solid foods," "Sleeping through the Night Strategies," or "Developmental Milestones." The families all lived within a few miles and the babies were born within a couple of months of each other. After their first birthdays we were on our own to continue the group and we decided to do so, but we just moved on to more social activities such as going to parks, beaches, farms and each other's homes.

And so for the first few years these people became an important part of our lives, even though at first glance we might not appear to have much in common except for that One Big Thing of going from being a couple to a family. I think we were bonded in much the same way as other types of support groups: Hello my name is Mindy and I am a new parent.

And we would watch our babies grow and talk about them and notice how they were each unique. I remember having a conversation about how someday when they were older which personality traits they would probably still have.

And now here we were, 12 years later, with these 5 kids (and their siblings). We had continued to stay in touch and get together but for over the years it has been tapering off from seeing each other a couple of times a month, to a couple of times a year, and now a couple of years had gone by. And sure enough, they had changed into these pre-adolescents who had turned out much as we would have predicted they would. Brittany is lovely and accomplished, Nicholas is friendly and sincere, Aaron is eager and funny, Timmy is shy and thoughtful , and Jonathon is strong and active and still a magnet for crazy mishaps.

I had reserved a long table for 20 and the adults sat on one and and we just mixed all the kids together at the other. At first they sat there acting all weird and awkward but by the end of the meal they were all talking and laughing just as if they were old friends who had known each other, well, their whole lives.

How to bee a Good Mother

There is a commercial running right now that makes me want to spit my gum at the T.V. It is for some disinfectant and it features a scene with a little girl closing the lid on a shining white garbage can to a voice of a woman saying "It makes me feel like a good mother..." Such powerful words! Currently our kitchen garbage can is sporting a dried-on wad of chewed up gum and I'm certain that it is not a reflection of my parenting skills. But those advertising people are on to something when they put those two words together, and I have been noticing what context they are used in ever since I first heard them when directed at me when Timmy was 3 years old and I sewed him his bumble-bee Halloween costume. I had taken him to his preschool Halloween Party and all the moms whose kids were dressed in very nice store-bought costumes kept repeating "Oh you sewed that yourself? You are a good mother!" I was agog. THAT is what makes a good mother? What about all of the sacrifice, love, anguish, care and effort that got me no attention at all? It was this costume sewing that did it. And I really hadn't set out to sew a costume. We had gone into the fabric store because I knew they also sold pre-made costumes but Timmy figured out what the place was all about and found a bolt of yellow and black striped fabric and begged me to make him a bumble bee. So we found a pattern and got all of the materials. It wasn't until much later that I noticed the pattern package was marked "for the advanced sewer." So as I sat hunched over my Junior High sewing machine trying to put together the many complicated pieces that required stitching through this puffy batting that kept getting jammed into a wad around the needle I was swearing up a storm in a most un-goodmotherly way, probably fueled by the sleepless delirium that came after a full day caring for a newborn and a toddler and then having to stay up late sewing. It eventually came out ok but I hadn't expected it to define me as a parent.

I'll never forget the time when I was little and my mother attempted to sew a princess costume for me. Except that instead of the golden material that was on the package picture she ended up buying stuff that tended more towards orange. And then she made me wear it over my puffy winter coat so that at every door I got comments on my PUMPKIN costume. If you'd asked me then I would NOT have used that as an example of what made my mother a good one.

One time at a scrapbooking workshop we were having a conversation along these lines and my friend Betty was making a point about how hard she tried to "do it all" while she worked, and she summed it up with: "And I'll tell you one thing for sure, I NEVER put one of those pre-made frozen pizzas on the table for my family's dinner." So now that I've been going to grocery stores I glide past the whole section that they have of these pre-made frozen pizzas, seeing through the corner of my eye that they sure do look tasty and convenient. And there I am with all the separate pizza ingredients in my cart, just waiting for someone to take note of my Good Motherliness. They wouldn't know that the reason I'm not buying those frozen pizzas is because of our food allergies.

I even had some neighbors shout across the street at me "You are a Good Mother!" as I walked Jeffrey to school past their kids getting on the bus. But I was doing it because I had the time and I like walking outside with my son. So maybe what compels other moms to make that statement is a sudden feeling of "oh, look what she's doing...maybe I should be doing that...but I'm not..." Ah, guilt!

As I've said before I think every mother out there is probably trying to do the very best she can and the closest anyone can get to "good" parenting is trying to figure out what a child needs in any situation and then attempt to address that need. Which is not always easy. And is definitely not discernible to the casual observer. But if it's compliments you're after, I do have the answer to that: sew something!

A wedding in New York

This past weekend we traveled to Rochester, NY for my niece Erica's wedding. Getting there from here is always kind of an aggravation, there always seems to be a delay of some kind. At least there aren't any complaints from the backseat about having to spend even more time eating junk food, playing game boys, and watching DVDs. And I like having some travel news to talk about with the in-laws. Over the years I have learned that when we go over there for family functions (about once a year) everyone will come up to me and ask about our journey. At first I used to think they were all civil engineering enthusiasts and commented to Larry about his family's fascination with road conditions. Then eventually I came to understand that there I am among people who don't know much of anything about me except that I came there from another state, so they ask me how the trip went. So now I pay attention to what route we took and any unusual happenings so I am prepared to converse!



The wedding was lovely. I have known Erica since she was a preschooler. I can remember meeting her for the first time when she was just a toddler, whooping and shrieking as she leaped across the furniture in front of her tired and overwhelmed parents. I liked it that she was (and still is) so spunky, and her groom is a sweetheart; he was at a reunion picnic once and happily spent the whole time entertaining the gaggle of little children, reminding me of my brother-in-law Hal.







I was looking forward to attending the wedding also because I have a dress that I like that I got last year for my cousin's cousin Andrea's wedding at the DYC. Since I didn't have to buy a new dress I justified new accessories and got a shimmery shawl and this very cute beaded purse. But I actually felt sort of overdone compared to the other guests at this one. While everyone looked very nice they just don't seem to put on the glam quite so much, so it was more towards sundress than sparkle for them. It's a little hard to pinpoint the right amount of glitz when attending weddings from different cultures and parts of the country. I was just talking to my mother who also attended a wedding this weekend on my father's extended side of the family, where there is no such thing as too much sparkle. They even hired a stylist to coordinate the theme which was "golden treasure." Sometimes I get invited to those and then I feel like I'm wearing one of Edith Bunker's housedresses to the Oscars, no matter how fancy I think I am going in.




So now it's all over and we made it back ok. And....I know you're going to ask! The trip was fine except there was a 2 1/2 hour delay at the bridge!