We have good friends here in our ward who, until recently, were known as the Beers*. One Sunday, without warning, they announced at church that they were now the Bakers*.
What did I think of this? Well, at first I thought NOTHING of it. That’s right, nothing. If they want to be called the Bakers, fine. I don’t think it’s odd that they changed their name at all. Some have regarded their decision to change with wonder, shock, curiosity… How weird. I just don’t see the big deal. What’s in a name? Names aren’t permanent, personality-forming, or soul-housing mechanisms—first or last. If you want to change your name, by all means do it. I wholly support name changes, because I am, as I’ve since been labeled, completely unsentimental. Folks, names are arbitrary.
But, as the weeks have passed, I have come to be convinced that we could benefit from a name change. Tuley, is simply, way, way, way, too far back. It bugs me. I thought “T” was somewhere in the middle. I’m fine with that, I think. Turns out though that “T” is actually at the END of the alphabet, and “Tu” is at the very end. I discovered this on church lists. When a roll was passed through Sunday School, I would flip to a middle page, about where my maiden name would be. Isn’t “T” close? Not this page. Turn to the next. What? The next? You’ve got to be kidding. It’s on the last page, with maybe 10 others (out of a couple hundred—maybe more). And in a church setting, one of those 10 is guaranteed to be “Young.” Not so, in the regular world. “Tu” is even further back for the typical class list, elementary school “line up”, will-call ticket booth, etc. It bugs. And I feel it’s a disadvantage. So, what’s holding us back from changing it, I ask!!! Nothing except my ubersentamental husband, B.
I am completely serious that we should move up in the line. You really CAN choose your name, so why not change it to “Abbott.” (You see, I don’t mess around.) B thought I was joking around and put forth his suggestion to add a “silent ‘A’ to Tuley”—Atuley. Then he realized I was serious about the Abbott thing. Suffice it to say that we will not be signing our 2011 Christmas cards “With Love, The Abbotts.”
I’ve since come up with a name that he says is a million times better and that he is a million times more likely to switch to, but he still says no. I’m wishing I hadn’t changed my name when I got married. Our kids would have had my name in the hospital (Baby N instead of Baby Tuley) and filling out a birth certificate would have necessitated a compromise resulting in a fabulous last name that would have met all our needs and wants! Plus it would have been a name change for the both of us, rather than just me, which would be much more fair and make far more sense. If the Lord sees fit to bless us with daughters, I will counsel them to be more shrewd than I was when I got married. I guess I now know that names are less arbitrary than I thought they were back when I couldn’t care less what mine changed to.
*Names have been changed…again.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
The Year of the Gut
Or, The Year of No Baths.
Well, we officially had our worst Christmas ever…so far. More on that later...maybe.
But then along came New Year’s Day! So, what I would like to say, along with the rest of the blog world is
“Let’s Hear It for New Starts!”
“Yay for Change!”
and
“Just because your one-year-old breaks his arm on Wednesday morning (during holiday "week") and you don’t take him to the doctor for several days even though your gut said his arm REALLY WAS broken doesn’t mean you can’t take him to urgent care on a holiday weekend when your gut is talking so loud it drowns out your husband’s reassurances that he’s just fine and getting better.”
I love new years! (Even New Years Day in an urgent care center.) I also love new months, weeks, and days. It’s just so nice to refocus, change, and accomplish things. Resolutions? Yes, please! I embrace yearly, quarterly, monthly, weekly (to-do list style), daily, and, on rare occasion, hourly resolutions. It’s a bit of a compulsion, really.
Among other goals, I have decided that from now on, my gut is in charge around here. No head, no heart. Just gut. (Don’t worry, the other goals are more specific, measurable, etc….)
The Incident: Baby Sr. falls from kitchen chair.
(If I had a nickel for every time someone has said something like “He’s a boy; boys do that,” I’d be able to buy E and myself an ice cream cone each time I go to San-D’s Children’s Hospital. I’m pretty certain “this” could happen to anyone.)
He was sitting so nicely on that kitchen chair while watching Dad’s digital picture frame. Who knows how long he would have continued watching those photos. It was put to a stop when we announced it was time to go (we were headed out to run important errands, like haircuts). It seems E forgot that he was in a chair and instead went to get up, sticking his hand out/down to the side and toppling off the side of the chair.
Does the red cast seem a bit excessive to you? Up to his armpit/shoulder? But they told us at the hospital that no matter where the brake was on his arm/hand/finger, they would cast it up to his shoulder because he’s a little one. They do this so they won’t be able to get the cast off.
Well, we officially had our worst Christmas ever…so far. More on that later...maybe.
But then along came New Year’s Day! So, what I would like to say, along with the rest of the blog world is
“Let’s Hear It for New Starts!”
“Yay for Change!”
and
“Just because your one-year-old breaks his arm on Wednesday morning (during holiday "week") and you don’t take him to the doctor for several days even though your gut said his arm REALLY WAS broken doesn’t mean you can’t take him to urgent care on a holiday weekend when your gut is talking so loud it drowns out your husband’s reassurances that he’s just fine and getting better.”
I love new years! (Even New Years Day in an urgent care center.) I also love new months, weeks, and days. It’s just so nice to refocus, change, and accomplish things. Resolutions? Yes, please! I embrace yearly, quarterly, monthly, weekly (to-do list style), daily, and, on rare occasion, hourly resolutions. It’s a bit of a compulsion, really.
Among other goals, I have decided that from now on, my gut is in charge around here. No head, no heart. Just gut. (Don’t worry, the other goals are more specific, measurable, etc….)
The Incident: Baby Sr. falls from kitchen chair.
(If I had a nickel for every time someone has said something like “He’s a boy; boys do that,” I’d be able to buy E and myself an ice cream cone each time I go to San-D’s Children’s Hospital. I’m pretty certain “this” could happen to anyone.)
He was sitting so nicely on that kitchen chair while watching Dad’s digital picture frame. Who knows how long he would have continued watching those photos. It was put to a stop when we announced it was time to go (we were headed out to run important errands, like haircuts). It seems E forgot that he was in a chair and instead went to get up, sticking his hand out/down to the side and toppling off the side of the chair.
Does the red cast seem a bit excessive to you? Up to his armpit/shoulder? But they told us at the hospital that no matter where the brake was on his arm/hand/finger, they would cast it up to his shoulder because he’s a little one. They do this so they won’t be able to get the cast off.
Monday, January 17, 2011
The Game Show of Buying Everything You Can
That’s the working title anyway.
I always try to get B to play “what if” games with me in the car (“what countries would you most/least like to travel to, in order” “what would you change your name to if you could/had to” etc.) and this is the ONLY one I’ve come up with that he plays with enthusiasm.
Here’s the gist:
The crew shows up at your house at 8:00 Saturday morning to give you the news that [SURPRISE!] you are on The Game Show of Buying Everything You Can! From 8:00-9:00 you get ready to go (eat breakfast, charge cell phone, arrange babysitter, create plan of attack, whatever) and they explain the show:
Basically, you have unlimited funds from 9am till 5pm to buy anything and everything you want to*.
*There are rules, including the following:
• No investments (mutual funds, rental property, etc.)
• No gifts or charity giving
• No online shopping
• You and your “purchasing partner” must both be present at each checkout (although you can split up in the store/be at different stores—just be together when you actually buy, or there’s no money)
• You may not resell the items you buy (so, no buying every car at the dealership to create your own dealership. Somehow the show knows if you sell any of this stuff over the next 25 years and you will be responsible for paying all the money back to them)
As you race around town, car lot, and department store, you are being trailed by a film crew, and the edited account of your spending spree is what makes up the show (with a little running ticker at the bottom of the screen showing how much time is left and how many thousands of dollars you’ve spent so far).
When we plan for our turn as contestants on this show, inevitably, Brett will say once or twice that this show could never happen. It’s just too much money. I disagree. The nice thing about this show is that, other than footing the bill for a blank check to one couple per week, there are no other costs. But, in case he’s right, I’ve come up with a little twist.
Each episode will be a two-part-er. The first part was explained above. The second part shows a week later, when the couple has to randomly pick the percentage of their purchases (based on price) they get to keep. 10%, 20%, etc. on up to 100%. They “draw” a percentage. Then, we watch them decide which of their purchases to get rid of or keep in order to get their spending down to just 10% (or whatever they drew) of their total spree spending. If they draw the 100%, then I don’t know what happens for the rest of that show’s hour.
There is also the potential of a follow-up show documenting the struggle to make ends meet of the couples who purchased a too-big house (that they couldn’t afford to pay the insurance and taxes on, let alone furnish, but tried to anyway), or too many fancy cars (and can’t afford the insurance or the maintenance or the garage space). They should have thought this through better…
We won’t be making those mistakes; we have been working on our plan as we drive around. When they show up at our door, we will be ready.
But, seriously, I’d like to pitch this to someone. Now that DWTS has gotten itself banned from our home by B (and after its best season yet!), I’m looking for another guilty [not real guilt] pleasure [not real pleasure either]. Seriously, can I have DWTS back?
I always try to get B to play “what if” games with me in the car (“what countries would you most/least like to travel to, in order” “what would you change your name to if you could/had to” etc.) and this is the ONLY one I’ve come up with that he plays with enthusiasm.
Here’s the gist:
The crew shows up at your house at 8:00 Saturday morning to give you the news that [SURPRISE!] you are on The Game Show of Buying Everything You Can! From 8:00-9:00 you get ready to go (eat breakfast, charge cell phone, arrange babysitter, create plan of attack, whatever) and they explain the show:
Basically, you have unlimited funds from 9am till 5pm to buy anything and everything you want to*.
*There are rules, including the following:
• No investments (mutual funds, rental property, etc.)
• No gifts or charity giving
• No online shopping
• You and your “purchasing partner” must both be present at each checkout (although you can split up in the store/be at different stores—just be together when you actually buy, or there’s no money)
• You may not resell the items you buy (so, no buying every car at the dealership to create your own dealership. Somehow the show knows if you sell any of this stuff over the next 25 years and you will be responsible for paying all the money back to them)
As you race around town, car lot, and department store, you are being trailed by a film crew, and the edited account of your spending spree is what makes up the show (with a little running ticker at the bottom of the screen showing how much time is left and how many thousands of dollars you’ve spent so far).
When we plan for our turn as contestants on this show, inevitably, Brett will say once or twice that this show could never happen. It’s just too much money. I disagree. The nice thing about this show is that, other than footing the bill for a blank check to one couple per week, there are no other costs. But, in case he’s right, I’ve come up with a little twist.
Each episode will be a two-part-er. The first part was explained above. The second part shows a week later, when the couple has to randomly pick the percentage of their purchases (based on price) they get to keep. 10%, 20%, etc. on up to 100%. They “draw” a percentage. Then, we watch them decide which of their purchases to get rid of or keep in order to get their spending down to just 10% (or whatever they drew) of their total spree spending. If they draw the 100%, then I don’t know what happens for the rest of that show’s hour.
There is also the potential of a follow-up show documenting the struggle to make ends meet of the couples who purchased a too-big house (that they couldn’t afford to pay the insurance and taxes on, let alone furnish, but tried to anyway), or too many fancy cars (and can’t afford the insurance or the maintenance or the garage space). They should have thought this through better…
We won’t be making those mistakes; we have been working on our plan as we drive around. When they show up at our door, we will be ready.
But, seriously, I’d like to pitch this to someone. Now that DWTS has gotten itself banned from our home by B (and after its best season yet!), I’m looking for another guilty [not real guilt] pleasure [not real pleasure either]. Seriously, can I have DWTS back?
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Reilly Grove Meth Police
[My sister has been bugging me to write this story for a year. This one's for you, T.]
I guess I know how this happened.
For one, they have an aggressive anti-meth ad campaign going on in CS, which is the setting for this story. Have you seen billboards like these? The surgery? The dirty bathroom? What about the radio ads? The lady who loses her kids?
Also, on occasion there are articles on msn like the one about meth houses for sale, which make you feel like most people do meth and that any house for sale has been a haven for meth-use, if not meth production. Once you find out the all-but-inevitable truth that meth was made or even used in the home (after hundreds or thousands of dollars worth of testing), it will cost thousands more to get a hazardous waste company to completely gut the house.
Finally, there are more direct and personal reasons that I think and worry about meth.
So, hopefully that explains why on a sunny afternoon I became suspicious of two shadows loitering by the lamppost outside my bedroom window. It was a typical day—frigid and clear. The shadows looked like they belonged to tall, thin, baseball-cap be-decked persons milling about in very close proximity to each other … for nearly an hour.
Hoodlums, no doubt. What COULD they be doing there? I checked on the shadows every ten minutes…ok, every five minutes, plastering myself against our upstairs window with the hopes of seeing more than just shadows. No luck. So, I decide on the most likely story:
These two guys are drug dealers and they have newly discovered that the lamppost under my bedroom window would make a fantastic spot from which to deal methamphetamines. You know, quiet street—hasn’t been a car all morning. Perfect! No one to see their operations. They are waiting for someone, surely.
No way. Not in my town (at least, not on my street under my bedroom window). I decide to confront them. I will chase them away.
Having little-to-no training or experience on a drug fighting unit of local law enforcement, I formulate what I believe to be a never-been-tried approach.
Drug Bustin’ with L
Step 1: Dress warmly. (It’s freezing out there.)
Step 2: Call someone to let them know what you are doing, just in case you are abducted—or killed. (I can’t find my cell phone, as usual. Skip this step.)
Step 2 [revised]: Kiss sleeping baby good-bye. (Hope to see him again—in a safer world.)
Step 3: Stand at the front door visualizing my approach and rehearsing my line. (Our front door/porch is not in view of the suspects, but they may hear the door open and bolt, so I’ve got to be quick—take them by surprise—if I’m going to confront them. Also, I must be prepared to give chase.)
Step 4: In one motion—maybe two—open the door and race out (closing the door behind me). Cross the porch in two steps and JUMP off the side of it into the landscaped barkmulch/bushes/rocks in full view of the lamppost. (I wasn’t about to take our front steps and walkway all the way around, giving the suspects time to escape. I needed to catch them unawares. No sooner did they hear the door open, than they saw me flying out from the side of our house off the concrete ledge of our porch saying, probably a tad too loud for normal conversation, “Can I help you guys?”)
Step 5: Upon landing rush towards the individuals and formulate the rest of the plan. (Maybe they’ll be running and I’ll be chasing. Maybe I’ll be running and THEY’LL be chasing. Don’t really know.)
That’s the plan. I guess I can say that it worked.
All went according to plan—it was a completely by the book bust-up—that is, steps 1 thru 5 were followed with exactness. What I found under the lamppost as I landed and rushed toward it, only half expecting a reply to my “Can I help you guys?” line, was a guy and a girl [a “couple”] milling about, huddling really, trying to keep warm. They looked less hoodlum-like and more “trendy” than I had expected. They appeared quite surprised to see me, so obviously my plan of taking them unawares by running and jumping off the side of my porch totally worked.
They explained that my neighbor was tinting the windows of their car (yes, he tints windows in his garage) and they were waiting for it to be done. I took everything in (their look, their story, etc.) as I approached, and by the time I was just about under the lamppost with them I was satisfied that they were probably not drug dealers. Now, how to get back into the house.
I decided to tell them what I planned to tell the drug dealers—the beginning part—which is that they had been spotted, and not just by me. I explained that a “neighbor” had seen them milling about and called me to say, “Did you know there are some people hanging out under your lamppost?”
Everything from here on out till I get back inside is a bit hazy—due to the adrenaline drop, no doubt. Not really sure what happened once I ascertained that they were not drug dealers. I think they apologized. I think I mumbled incoherently as I wandered back into the house, taking pains to climb onto the porch from the side so as to give the impression that this is the way I always enter/exit the house.
So, Reilly Grove residents, you can all sleep a little more soundly tonight. I’m watching out...
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Congratulations HH2!
It took a while to get around to scoring, then a while to score, and finally a LONG while to post the results, but finally we are sending HH2 her promised San-D Zoo winnings!
We messed with our scoring system each evening for about a week as we thought of ways to make it more “fair.” But, have no fear. You were not robbed of your victory [E]. No one other than HH2 ever had the highest score (although positions 2-5 [and perhaps many of the rest] changed daily). In the end, the scoring system we developed this year is much improved from last year. But we still discuss future changes—particularly in the gender category scoring. So, keep playing.
If you think you should have received more points, remember that our system rewards consistent good guessing. So, a person may win the contest who has not “won” any of the individual categories. Solid guesses across the board are better than alternately being “right on” and “way off”. Also, you may be several days off for the date and do better in that category than you do on the length, even though you were only “half an inch” off there. This is because the range of dates is much larger than the range of length guesses.
Here are the final scores:
1. HH2 71.1
2. DMN 61.4
3. EMN 57.0
4. HH1 46.7
5. TEN 44.1
6. TJN 41.7
7. KES 39.8
8. LAN 27.5
9. DAN 27.1
10. JENC 6.6
[Perfect Score: 101.573768]
We messed with our scoring system each evening for about a week as we thought of ways to make it more “fair.” But, have no fear. You were not robbed of your victory [E]. No one other than HH2 ever had the highest score (although positions 2-5 [and perhaps many of the rest] changed daily). In the end, the scoring system we developed this year is much improved from last year. But we still discuss future changes—particularly in the gender category scoring. So, keep playing.
If you think you should have received more points, remember that our system rewards consistent good guessing. So, a person may win the contest who has not “won” any of the individual categories. Solid guesses across the board are better than alternately being “right on” and “way off”. Also, you may be several days off for the date and do better in that category than you do on the length, even though you were only “half an inch” off there. This is because the range of dates is much larger than the range of length guesses.
Here are the final scores:
1. HH2 71.1
2. DMN 61.4
3. EMN 57.0
4. HH1 46.7
5. TEN 44.1
6. TJN 41.7
7. KES 39.8
8. LAN 27.5
9. DAN 27.1
10. JENC 6.6
[Perfect Score: 101.573768]
Blast.
Halloween was celebrated in costume by all. E donned the hat only partially and only for photos, but he was identified as a “Jedi” by several people who saw him just by the robes and his association with the rest of us. So, success.
In preparation for this event I did some “research” by going to Blockbuster to rent a Star Wars movie, though which movie to rent was a mystery to me. I needed Ewoks and I needed Han in his “classic” outfit—what he wears in the first movie (in movie production chronology). Does he wear the same thing in every movie? I didn’t know. So, I asked a Blockbuster employee, hoping against hope that he could direct me to a single episode.
It is my belief that Blockbuster is simply a job, not so much a trained profession. I don’t feel that the employees need to know anything about movies—or rather I don’t find that the employees know anything about movies. Alphabetization? Definitely. Movies? Dicey. So, I had little hope that the employee I approached would be able to do more than direct me to the movies in question.
When I told him what I wanted and why [for Halloween costume “research”], he congratulated me because, as he modestly informed me, he happened to be the BIGGEST Star Wars fan. Right here, employed at my neighborhood Blockbuster. Happy and relieved though I was, I found his assessment of himself to be a bit dubious. Star Wars’ biggest fan? That’s a tall order. For one, I bet the biggest fan is unemployed (although my assumption regarding Blockbuster employees didn’t hold on this trip). Also, I think that I would be in danger—or at least feel like I were in danger—if I were in the company of Star Wars’ biggest fan, and with this agreeable fellow I did not.
He gave me the movie I needed (yes, just one; although I was right in asking since Han does NOT always wear the same thing) and even described in detail what Han’s outfit consists of (all the way down to the gold on the sides of his pants, which I had to watch a good deal of the movie in order to even catch a glimpse of).
At one point I asked, “Doesn’t he have a gun?”
Big. Mistake.
“He has a blaster.” [silence]
I just stare. Is he serious? So, that's yes, right?
Two things I mention as postscript to Halloween 2010:
1. It’s a pretty good movie. I watched about 40 minutes of the episode I rented and was quite surprised by how entertaining it was—even more surprised by how GOOD it looked. Ahead of its time, indeed. I need to watch these movies. I have no idea what the story line is, I can just think of bits and pieces and find myself wondering how they got there and what they are doing (Why are they in the desert? Why are they in the snow? Why are they in the forest? Why are they in the swamp? Why are they in outer space?)
2. I sent a photo of us in our Halloween costume to a few people. Mere weeks later I found myself searching for a photo for our Christmas card. We do not, nor will we ever, have pictures taken with the intent of using one of them for our Christmas card. We’re just not that way, although I’d like to be. But it’s a bit of effort with a small likelihood of producing a shot with all of us looking and smiling at the camera. So, our cards are informal at best. But as I thought and searched I found only one photo of the four of us. It was taken at the Zoo around Thanksgiving time. That’ll have to do. Only after sending the Christmas cards did I remember that we DO have a Halloween photo of the four of us. So, we had TWO possible pictures for our Christmas card, and I think I will simply send a Halloween photo each Christmas from now on and omit the hunt.
In preparation for this event I did some “research” by going to Blockbuster to rent a Star Wars movie, though which movie to rent was a mystery to me. I needed Ewoks and I needed Han in his “classic” outfit—what he wears in the first movie (in movie production chronology). Does he wear the same thing in every movie? I didn’t know. So, I asked a Blockbuster employee, hoping against hope that he could direct me to a single episode.
It is my belief that Blockbuster is simply a job, not so much a trained profession. I don’t feel that the employees need to know anything about movies—or rather I don’t find that the employees know anything about movies. Alphabetization? Definitely. Movies? Dicey. So, I had little hope that the employee I approached would be able to do more than direct me to the movies in question.
When I told him what I wanted and why [for Halloween costume “research”], he congratulated me because, as he modestly informed me, he happened to be the BIGGEST Star Wars fan. Right here, employed at my neighborhood Blockbuster. Happy and relieved though I was, I found his assessment of himself to be a bit dubious. Star Wars’ biggest fan? That’s a tall order. For one, I bet the biggest fan is unemployed (although my assumption regarding Blockbuster employees didn’t hold on this trip). Also, I think that I would be in danger—or at least feel like I were in danger—if I were in the company of Star Wars’ biggest fan, and with this agreeable fellow I did not.
He gave me the movie I needed (yes, just one; although I was right in asking since Han does NOT always wear the same thing) and even described in detail what Han’s outfit consists of (all the way down to the gold on the sides of his pants, which I had to watch a good deal of the movie in order to even catch a glimpse of).
At one point I asked, “Doesn’t he have a gun?”
Big. Mistake.
“He has a blaster.” [silence]
I just stare. Is he serious? So, that's yes, right?
Two things I mention as postscript to Halloween 2010:
1. It’s a pretty good movie. I watched about 40 minutes of the episode I rented and was quite surprised by how entertaining it was—even more surprised by how GOOD it looked. Ahead of its time, indeed. I need to watch these movies. I have no idea what the story line is, I can just think of bits and pieces and find myself wondering how they got there and what they are doing (Why are they in the desert? Why are they in the snow? Why are they in the forest? Why are they in the swamp? Why are they in outer space?)
2. I sent a photo of us in our Halloween costume to a few people. Mere weeks later I found myself searching for a photo for our Christmas card. We do not, nor will we ever, have pictures taken with the intent of using one of them for our Christmas card. We’re just not that way, although I’d like to be. But it’s a bit of effort with a small likelihood of producing a shot with all of us looking and smiling at the camera. So, our cards are informal at best. But as I thought and searched I found only one photo of the four of us. It was taken at the Zoo around Thanksgiving time. That’ll have to do. Only after sending the Christmas cards did I remember that we DO have a Halloween photo of the four of us. So, we had TWO possible pictures for our Christmas card, and I think I will simply send a Halloween photo each Christmas from now on and omit the hunt.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Time is short...
I thought we had three more years—years where my Halloween vision would go unchallenged. But, it’s started already. E is REFUSING to don his costume.
I can’t understand it, really.
First of all, he never gets ideas about what he does or doesn’t want to wear. Which pants, shirt, hat, shoes, jacket/no jacket…it’s all the same to him. So, why would this be any different than anything else I dress him in?
Second, he has no “better” idea of what to be. This is what I thought would someday end my Halloween rule. “You’re going to be Marty McFly!!!” “I don’t want to be Marty McFly. I want to be a hamburger.” But E has no clue what he wants to be.
Finally, it’s not like I’m dressing him up in a generic furry animal costume. What’s he got to complain about?
This is really causing me a lot of worry because we are doing a theme and E is sort of what I would call “the anchorman.” His costume is the best and the cutest. Without him, the remaining costumes look quite rag-tag. Pretty much, we SHOULDN’T do this if E bails. But if we can convince him to do this for the family, we are going to look pretty awesome.
I realized this problem a month and a half ago when I pulled out his costume and wanted him to try it on, just to make sure it was going to work/didn’t need any modification and so that I could see how cute it was. I hoped that if I just pulled it out the next week, he would be fine with it, since, as I said before, he never cares what I make him wear. No go. Week after week, no go. So, finally, this week, in desperation, I have been having B wear the hat/headpiece in the evenings. E adores B, so it’s our best shot. I’ve worn it too during the day. Still, E refuses to have any part of the costume near him. We’re running out of time. I still have work to do on the remaining three costumes, and I’m putting it off, wondering if I should even go through with it, since we may have to can the whole thing. Curses.
I can’t understand it, really.
First of all, he never gets ideas about what he does or doesn’t want to wear. Which pants, shirt, hat, shoes, jacket/no jacket…it’s all the same to him. So, why would this be any different than anything else I dress him in?
Second, he has no “better” idea of what to be. This is what I thought would someday end my Halloween rule. “You’re going to be Marty McFly!!!” “I don’t want to be Marty McFly. I want to be a hamburger.” But E has no clue what he wants to be.
Finally, it’s not like I’m dressing him up in a generic furry animal costume. What’s he got to complain about?
This is really causing me a lot of worry because we are doing a theme and E is sort of what I would call “the anchorman.” His costume is the best and the cutest. Without him, the remaining costumes look quite rag-tag. Pretty much, we SHOULDN’T do this if E bails. But if we can convince him to do this for the family, we are going to look pretty awesome.
I realized this problem a month and a half ago when I pulled out his costume and wanted him to try it on, just to make sure it was going to work/didn’t need any modification and so that I could see how cute it was. I hoped that if I just pulled it out the next week, he would be fine with it, since, as I said before, he never cares what I make him wear. No go. Week after week, no go. So, finally, this week, in desperation, I have been having B wear the hat/headpiece in the evenings. E adores B, so it’s our best shot. I’ve worn it too during the day. Still, E refuses to have any part of the costume near him. We’re running out of time. I still have work to do on the remaining three costumes, and I’m putting it off, wondering if I should even go through with it, since we may have to can the whole thing. Curses.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
It's a Motorcar
No, it's not a minivan. That would have been overkill. Plus, although I was turning 30, a $30,000 gift, though fitting in way, was not something I was comfortable accepting. Went with the Mazda 5. Much better. Almost the ideal car, really. Two seats in the front, two seats in the middle, and, theoretically, two seats in the back (we won’t be using those). So, it’s basically perfect for a family of four.
I mean, think about it. If you have two carseats, you WILL lose the third seat in any vehicle bench. And, who wants the middle really. Why even make five seater cars? But back to the M5. Here, we don’t have to have two car seats squished on either side of a three-seater row. There are just the two captain’s chairs. Perfect.
And, get this! As the marriage of a car and minivan, we get the best of both worlds when it comes to the kids’ doors! They slide—like the minivan—so you don’t have to worry about chipping the car next to you, or about having someone park so close that you can’t get the door open enough to get the infant seat in. But, they are REAL windows. You know, ones that can go up or down like the back seat windows of a car (not like the fixed windows of a minivan).
So, after those two captains chairs, there’s a big cargo space (provided you have the two rear seats out of commission) for groceries, strollers, surfboards, etc.
It’s dark, sparkly blue with dark tinted windows. And it’s just about perfect.
Words of caution:
First, if you did want to use more than four total seats, you would have NO cargo space. Seriously, you get two more passengers OR stuff. Not both.
Second, my only disappointment is in how few places there are to put stuff (like sunglasses, Kleenex, etc.) up front, and how “uncontained” everything in the back is. The babies in rear facing car seats with tons of groceries, etc. hanging out loosey-goosey in the back is kind of unsafe. They’d be hit with all sorts of projectiles in the event of an accident. We’re working on a solution (net or something) to this problem.
And now, is anyone looking for a 2003 Nissan Sentra? Runs good…
Smaller, Older, Dumpier
[This is not the post where I recount my 30th birthday.]
Think of the rent/mortgage you pay monthly. Now, just for “fun,” imagine what sort of living space upgrade you could get if you DOUBLED that amount. I know you don’t have the flexibility in your budget to do so, but just imagine that you did (or that you were FORCED to double it). You probably don’t know exactly what the market offers at that amount, but certainly it’s something bigger, newer, and nicer, right?
Well, here in San-D, our doubled rent has us in a smaller place, one with no garage (bad news for people like us with 5 strollers, three bikes, two large RC planes, a kayak, an elliptical trainer, and camping gear for five…). Additionally, the place was built in 1967. A blessing and a curse. I instantly liked the “charm” that such an “established” property affords—very different from the last couple places we have lived, all of which were built within five years of our occupancy. However, during our first month, we spent two weeks wearing headlamps after dark in the upstairs because of an electrical problem; water has been leaking through the cupboards and floors in the kitchen for who knows how long, which is nasty and produces a crop of mushrooms growing out of the baseboard in front of the kitchen sink almost daily; and the “original” appliances (fridge, oven, W/D)—don’t even get me started. But after weeks of nagging, these troubles have each slowly been addressed.
Recently, we visited some friends who are living in a suburb community in the type of place we would usually live in (that is, new). It seemed SO NICE. Nevertheless, I’m very, very glad we live where we do, because the location COULDN’T be better.
Beach: 5 minutes
Sea World: 6 minutes
San-D Zoo (and a dozen museums in Balboa park): 10 minutes
LDS temple: 5 minutes
Airport:13 minutes
Brett’s office: 5 minutes
Library: 1 minute
Church: 1 minute
Cross the street (I walk it) and you’ve got TONS of shopping (plus a DMV).
Head the other way—into the condo community—and you’ve got the nicest pool I’ve seen in as long as I can remember, plus a separate kiddie pool, a basketball court, recreation room, weight room, exercise room, club house, sauna, reading room, playground…
So, come visit. Only, remember that you get what you pay for. And although staying with us will be cheap, it will not be comfortable. (Plus, remember that lodging with us will be the ONLY cheap part of your visit.) More on the topic of San-D, both the good and the bad--read:expensive--(there is no ugly) later…
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