The excitement of Christmas morning has passed; the Son of Never Stops Eating is building his newest heart's desire Lego set (a treehouse) and the Teenager is in her room on her technology. I'm sitting at the kitchen table eating onion dip and Fritos, going through some recent nature pictures, deciding what books to buy with my Barnes and Noble gift cards, and pondering what 2017 will bring my way.
In many ways, 2016 was not my year, which seems to be a common thought. I will admit that although I'm glad to see 2016 over (don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya, 2016) I have some trepidations about what 2017 will bring. I think I'm also not alone in that thinking. I know that 2017 will be interesting: a new Presidential administration (not going there); the Teenager starting her senior year of high school; the Son of Never Stops Eating transitioning into high school; working on our house (contractors! oh joy!).
However, when I think about the good things 2016 brought-the year wasn't all bad-a common theme emerges: community. I'm fortunate to be part of some wonderful groups of people, some that I've been part of for awhile and some that are new. One truth of life: you have to have your people.
Earlier this year, a Facebook acquaintance put out a call: she was starting a "breakfast club". The idea was simple: people could meet on Saturday mornings at local restaurants for a leisurely breakfast. Sure, I thought. Why not? I like breakfast. Even though I consider myself an introvert, I do like to meet new people. The Son of Never Stops Eating (a chocolate chip pancake connoisseur) and I ventured out to the first meeting, not knowing what to expect. Six months later, we've both met new friends, gotten to know some older friends better, and found some great local places to eat breakfast.
I have my community of fellow nature nerds- many of whom I have only met online, but with whom I share an interest in and love of the natural world. When I see something extraordinarily cool out at the nature preserve, I know immediately who I am going to share it with. Need an ID on an unfamiliar bird? I know who to ask. Found a cool mushroom after a rain shower? I know who else will think it's fascinating. One of these days- probably after my band mom tour of duty is over- I will hopefully get to meet more of my fellow nature lovers in real life at a bioblitz or a birding outing.
I have my community of other "special needs moms", who get why I will have angst over the Son of Never Stops Eating's transition to high school, and why I am worried about what he will do after high school is over. We have elderly parents, challenges to meet with our special needs kids, other kids learning how to drive and go off to college, and we get each other. We don't have to explain things to each other, we just know. I have my crazy GNO friends, many of whom I met through church, who either have the same weird sense of humor I do or who are willing to put up with it.
Some communities are very long term, and others are more ephemeral, but share a goal regardless- working in the marching band concession stand with other band parents is community. Even if it disbands when the big game ends, we share the challenges of supplying endless amounts of churros during halftime and keeping the nachos coming for the fans. I joke about the band mom concession stand, but to be honest, I enjoy it. Seeing what the Teenager gains from being in her band community makes the concession stand time well spent.
If you are looking for a 2017 goal (the Mom of No gave up on resolutions; I rarely keep any of them and then I feel slightly guilty about it and it gives me angst, which I definitely don't need), I have a suggestion: If you don't have a community, find one. If you have one, strengthen it. Find connections- not just on Facebook, but in real life. Sign up for an adopt-a-spot. Join a civic board. Volunteer for the band concession stand and make some nachos. Start a book club. Take up birding. Meet friends for dinner once a month, or coffee every other Saturday morning. Go to the local outdoor concerts in the park. It will be worth it.
May you have safe and enjoyable New Year's celebrations. Happy 2017 from the Family of No.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Freezing Day Hike
Last weekend, a cold front came through our area. One minute I was sitting outside in a short-sleeved t-shirt enjoying a sunny December afternoon, and the next, a frigid breeze was blowing through. My son and I had been watching a tailed orange butterfly; the butterfly disappeared. By that evening the heater was on and the dog was refusing to go outside because it was too cold.
The next morning, I woke up and consulted the weather app on my phone. Too cold to hike? Yes, too cold to hike. I rolled over and went back to sleep. By mid-morning, however, the call of the trail was too persistent to ignore. So what if it was cold outside? I have winter clothing and thick socks. I suspect that my husband thought I was a little nuts. Who in their right mind would go hiking when it was freezing outside? I had no idea if I would find anything, but I had to go look.
As I drove into the park, I saw a red-tailed hawk hanging out on an electric pole. Mother Nature was smiling upon my endeavor. My hike would be a success.
I parked the car and got out. No other hikers were in sight, but I could see some fishermen down on the river; I wasn't the only crazy person outside. I felt somewhat vindicated. In fact, these fishermen were even crazier than I was because they were wading in the water.
As I walked down the trail, I could hear bird sounds. I saw no egrets or herons on the water, but I heard a great blue heron flying overhead. One red tailed hawk sighting and a heron; a good start. A killdeer was on the island in the middle of the river, making plaintive sounds. Small unidentified birds flew from one side of the river to the other. I looked over to my left and spotted a ruby-crowned kinglet on the ground. The fingers on my right hand seemed to be frozen to each other, so I blew on my hand so I could use the camera- and success!
I turned to go towards the boardwalk and the marsh with the bird blinds, and - osprey sighting! He was perched on the top of a dead tree, so I walked stealthily until I could get to an unobstructed view. Just as I got there, he flew off. Then I heard it: peck....peck....peckpeckpeckpeck...peck....
So, no luck photographing the osprey, but the downy woodpecker seemed unaware of my presence as I stood still and observed it go under the branch, over the branch, up the tree, down the tree...peck peck peck....
I moved on. As long as I was moving, I was warm. The minute I stopped walking, I could feel my limbs start to freeze. I pulled my hat down over my ears; I could hear my own mother's voice in my head, saying, "Cover your ears! You're going to catch a cold!". In the distance, I spotted a great blue heron, hunkered down.
Ice was on the water as I walked to the large bird blind. On the trail, the cold had been bearable, but over the water it was too cold even for a nature nut like myself. The mallards, however, seemed to be fine with the cold.
I continued walking. Other than birds, nothing was out moving around, but there were birds aplenty. Cardinals flew from tree to tree, the bright red of the males easily visible in the bare branches. I heard more woodpeckers. Little brown birds moved around in the ground brush.
My phone beeped. My husband, wanting to see if I was frozen solid yet? No, the Teenager wanting to know how much money was in her teen checking account (not much, so sad). I didn't want to take my gloves off to text her the bad news.
I decided it was nearly time to head to the car, after walking back down the river again to see if, by some chance, the osprey had returned to his perch. He had, but once again he flew off as soon as I was in position to get a good picture. The downy woodpecker, however, was in the same spot...peck...peck...peckpeckpeckpeck...peck...
I took that as a sign- that, and the fact that my face felt like an ice cube. It was definitely time to head back to the vehicle and crank the heater up as far as it would go.
As I drove down the road to the gate house and the exit, I spotted the red tailed hawk again. One more try! Fortunately, no one else was driving down the road because I stopped the car and jumped out with camera in hand, ready to go. One of the advantages of cold weather hiking: you get the place to yourself!
I got back in the car, feeling a bit like a human popsicle. The hike had been worth it. However, I was ready to go home, get a cup of hot tea, and begin thawing out.
The next morning, I woke up and consulted the weather app on my phone. Too cold to hike? Yes, too cold to hike. I rolled over and went back to sleep. By mid-morning, however, the call of the trail was too persistent to ignore. So what if it was cold outside? I have winter clothing and thick socks. I suspect that my husband thought I was a little nuts. Who in their right mind would go hiking when it was freezing outside? I had no idea if I would find anything, but I had to go look.
As I drove into the park, I saw a red-tailed hawk hanging out on an electric pole. Mother Nature was smiling upon my endeavor. My hike would be a success.
I parked the car and got out. No other hikers were in sight, but I could see some fishermen down on the river; I wasn't the only crazy person outside. I felt somewhat vindicated. In fact, these fishermen were even crazier than I was because they were wading in the water.
As I walked down the trail, I could hear bird sounds. I saw no egrets or herons on the water, but I heard a great blue heron flying overhead. One red tailed hawk sighting and a heron; a good start. A killdeer was on the island in the middle of the river, making plaintive sounds. Small unidentified birds flew from one side of the river to the other. I looked over to my left and spotted a ruby-crowned kinglet on the ground. The fingers on my right hand seemed to be frozen to each other, so I blew on my hand so I could use the camera- and success!
 |
| I know the branch is in the way, but you can really see the ruby spot! |
So, no luck photographing the osprey, but the downy woodpecker seemed unaware of my presence as I stood still and observed it go under the branch, over the branch, up the tree, down the tree...peck peck peck....
 |
| Cold weather was no deterrent to this downy woodpecker. |
Ice was on the water as I walked to the large bird blind. On the trail, the cold had been bearable, but over the water it was too cold even for a nature nut like myself. The mallards, however, seemed to be fine with the cold.
 |
| Ice flowers! |
I continued walking. Other than birds, nothing was out moving around, but there were birds aplenty. Cardinals flew from tree to tree, the bright red of the males easily visible in the bare branches. I heard more woodpeckers. Little brown birds moved around in the ground brush.
 |
| Female cardinal, on a bare branch. |
I decided it was nearly time to head to the car, after walking back down the river again to see if, by some chance, the osprey had returned to his perch. He had, but once again he flew off as soon as I was in position to get a good picture. The downy woodpecker, however, was in the same spot...peck...peck...peckpeckpeckpeck...peck...
I took that as a sign- that, and the fact that my face felt like an ice cube. It was definitely time to head back to the vehicle and crank the heater up as far as it would go.
As I drove down the road to the gate house and the exit, I spotted the red tailed hawk again. One more try! Fortunately, no one else was driving down the road because I stopped the car and jumped out with camera in hand, ready to go. One of the advantages of cold weather hiking: you get the place to yourself!
 |
| Red-tailed hawk |
I got back in the car, feeling a bit like a human popsicle. The hike had been worth it. However, I was ready to go home, get a cup of hot tea, and begin thawing out.
Saturday, December 17, 2016
Low Maintenance Christmas
I'm a Christmas slacker. I'm just going to say that right up front. The older I get, the lower the bar becomes in terms of what I consider to be a successful holiday. Christmas stresses me out in a way that Easter or the 4th of July doesn't. Even the greeting you choose can cause all-out political and social warfare if you choose poorly. No one gets mad if people working in a store don't say "Happy Easter" in the weeks preceding the holiday. Honestly, I'm happy as long as people are nice. I don't care if they say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy winter solstice".
Here is my list of what I have done in preparation for the Big Day:
1. I bought gifts.
Even this wasn't that easy. I can't actually tell you the story because it would give hints to a certain member of my family, but let's just say that complicating factors arose in the purchasing of one gift and I had to make multiple trips to a store and the store assistant manager got involved and even though at the end we were all "Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!" it was rough going there for awhile. However, I was able to pick up some other presents at the most recent Friends of the Library book sale for the low price of free in exchange for two hours of volunteer labor. In the end, I think everyone will be happy.
2. I baked two batches of molasses cookies.
3. I wrapped presents while the kids and the Dad of No put up the Christmas tree. I decorated the mantel with a manger scene that my grandmother made many years ago.
4. I will be watching the best Christmas movie ever, "Christmas Vacation", at least once before Christmas day.
5. A co-worker gave me a little box of Christmas treats and I ate them. The fudge was delicious, although eating it at 7:00 in the morning might not have been the best idea.
6. Our family attended the Teenager's band Holiday Concert. Angst occurred when a Lego piece was dropped and rolled under a seat in front of us, but the piece was recovered after the concert and all was well.
When my kids were younger I did more. For example, there was the required trip to see Santa Claus. I made the mistake once of taking the Teenager to see Santa when she was a toddler and I was massively pregnant with the Son of Never Stops Eating, who was then the Son of Never Stops Kicking His Mother's Bladder. We waited in line for almost an hour and when we were next my daughter flat out refused to have anything to do with the guy in the red suit and his cheerful elves.
After that, this became the Santa Claus visiting procedure: If we run into Santa, we'll get a photo. Amazingly, every year for as long as the kids actually wanted to visit Santa, it worked out. Now that they're teenagers, the pressure is off.
2016 has been a difficult year for several reasons, and I will like nothing better than to see it end. I have no idea what 2017 will be like, but every January 1st feels like a fresh start even though the only thing that is really starting over is the health insurance deductible. When I see picture of extravagant cakes decorated to look like Santa or lavishly decorated houses, I'll admit that I feel a little pressure to be more jolly and accomplished than I am really feeling at the moment.
This year, however, since Christmas is the season for giving, I'm giving myself permission to not feel guilty about not having a creatively themed tree (the theme of our tree: "Ornaments we inherited from the Grandparents of No when they downsized their house"). Our Christmas cookies will probably come from Winco (in this house, it doesn't matter where the cookies come from; they will be devoured anyway), and the Son of Never Stops Eating will probably be wearing sweatpants to church on Christmas Eve (we did look for khakis but no luck finding any).
However, regardless of how you celebrate the season, I wish you the best one- may your days be joyful, may your kids not drive you nuts after six hours of being out of school, may you not have to return a single gift to the store, and may you survive all gatherings with relatives. From the Household of No, Merry Christmas.
Here is my list of what I have done in preparation for the Big Day:
1. I bought gifts.
Even this wasn't that easy. I can't actually tell you the story because it would give hints to a certain member of my family, but let's just say that complicating factors arose in the purchasing of one gift and I had to make multiple trips to a store and the store assistant manager got involved and even though at the end we were all "Ho Ho Ho! Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!" it was rough going there for awhile. However, I was able to pick up some other presents at the most recent Friends of the Library book sale for the low price of free in exchange for two hours of volunteer labor. In the end, I think everyone will be happy.
2. I baked two batches of molasses cookies.
3. I wrapped presents while the kids and the Dad of No put up the Christmas tree. I decorated the mantel with a manger scene that my grandmother made many years ago.
4. I will be watching the best Christmas movie ever, "Christmas Vacation", at least once before Christmas day.
5. A co-worker gave me a little box of Christmas treats and I ate them. The fudge was delicious, although eating it at 7:00 in the morning might not have been the best idea.
6. Our family attended the Teenager's band Holiday Concert. Angst occurred when a Lego piece was dropped and rolled under a seat in front of us, but the piece was recovered after the concert and all was well.
When my kids were younger I did more. For example, there was the required trip to see Santa Claus. I made the mistake once of taking the Teenager to see Santa when she was a toddler and I was massively pregnant with the Son of Never Stops Eating, who was then the Son of Never Stops Kicking His Mother's Bladder. We waited in line for almost an hour and when we were next my daughter flat out refused to have anything to do with the guy in the red suit and his cheerful elves.
After that, this became the Santa Claus visiting procedure: If we run into Santa, we'll get a photo. Amazingly, every year for as long as the kids actually wanted to visit Santa, it worked out. Now that they're teenagers, the pressure is off.
2016 has been a difficult year for several reasons, and I will like nothing better than to see it end. I have no idea what 2017 will be like, but every January 1st feels like a fresh start even though the only thing that is really starting over is the health insurance deductible. When I see picture of extravagant cakes decorated to look like Santa or lavishly decorated houses, I'll admit that I feel a little pressure to be more jolly and accomplished than I am really feeling at the moment.
This year, however, since Christmas is the season for giving, I'm giving myself permission to not feel guilty about not having a creatively themed tree (the theme of our tree: "Ornaments we inherited from the Grandparents of No when they downsized their house"). Our Christmas cookies will probably come from Winco (in this house, it doesn't matter where the cookies come from; they will be devoured anyway), and the Son of Never Stops Eating will probably be wearing sweatpants to church on Christmas Eve (we did look for khakis but no luck finding any).
However, regardless of how you celebrate the season, I wish you the best one- may your days be joyful, may your kids not drive you nuts after six hours of being out of school, may you not have to return a single gift to the store, and may you survive all gatherings with relatives. From the Household of No, Merry Christmas.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
If it's on the Internet
When the Teenager was a preschooler, we went through a period of time during which she was convinced that the one thing in the world that I really needed was a "As Seen on TV" purse. Every day when she watched her favorite cartoons, she would see advertisements for this purse, and the ads apparently worked well on her. If she had known how to use a phone and a credit card, she would have called up and ordered me two: one for my birthday, and one for Christmas.
Eventually I told her that not everything on TV is as it appears. Merchandise might look marvelous on the screen, but for $19.99 (and shipping/handling- and if you buy two you get the second one at half price!) it probably wasn't as good as they claim it is. I could tell she thought I was being some cynical old fuddy-duddy. If it's on TV it must be true, right?
Recently, out at the nature preserve, I was hiking and came across a raccoon hanging out at the edge of the river. I was fortunate to get some really good pictures of this raccoon, and when I downloaded the picture, the Son of Never Stops Eating was entranced by the extreme cuteness that was this particular raccoon. Raccoons can be adorable, but they can also be mean, and I am more than happy to just take a picture of the raccoon and let him live his raccoon life in the wild.
The Son of Never Stops Eating, however, was convinced that a raccoon would be a great pet. We already have a dog and a hamster, and as far as I am concerned, two pets are enough for the household of No. I know people have raccoons as pets, but I do not need a pet raccoon.
At some point he went and looked it up on his iPad and then came to tell me that it was okay to have a raccoon for a pet, other people have raccoons as pets, and therefore we should also get a raccoon. Preferably, the raccoon that I had seen that afternoon. It would be great if I would go back there, find that raccoon, and bring it home.
"We are not getting a pet raccoon". I said. "No exotic pets in this house".
"But, Mom!" he protested. "On the internet it says that raccoons make great pets! We should get one!".
"Do you believe everything you see on the internet?" I asked him. "You can find all kinds of stuff on the internet that isn't true. Just because you see something on the internet doesn't mean it's a good idea to do it in real life. A raccoon is not a good idea".
"But Mom! That raccoon is so CUTE! And it says on the internet you can have a raccoon living in your house! Our dog would love a raccoon! They could play together in the back yard!"
"We are not getting a pet raccoon! Final word!"
"But Mom, I thought you were a lover of nature!"
On my mental list of Important Life Information that I need to pass on to my offspring before they reach adulthood I mentally highlighted these three items for extra reinforcement:
Just because you see it on the Internet doesn't make it true.
Just because you're on the internet and you see or read about someone else doing something, that doesn't mean that you should do it too.
If you want a pet that is not a dog, cat or hamster you can get one (as long as it's legal) after you become an adult, start paying your own bills, and move out of my house and start living in your own house. My house, my rules- no raccoon!
Eventually I told her that not everything on TV is as it appears. Merchandise might look marvelous on the screen, but for $19.99 (and shipping/handling- and if you buy two you get the second one at half price!) it probably wasn't as good as they claim it is. I could tell she thought I was being some cynical old fuddy-duddy. If it's on TV it must be true, right?
Recently, out at the nature preserve, I was hiking and came across a raccoon hanging out at the edge of the river. I was fortunate to get some really good pictures of this raccoon, and when I downloaded the picture, the Son of Never Stops Eating was entranced by the extreme cuteness that was this particular raccoon. Raccoons can be adorable, but they can also be mean, and I am more than happy to just take a picture of the raccoon and let him live his raccoon life in the wild.
The Son of Never Stops Eating, however, was convinced that a raccoon would be a great pet. We already have a dog and a hamster, and as far as I am concerned, two pets are enough for the household of No. I know people have raccoons as pets, but I do not need a pet raccoon.
At some point he went and looked it up on his iPad and then came to tell me that it was okay to have a raccoon for a pet, other people have raccoons as pets, and therefore we should also get a raccoon. Preferably, the raccoon that I had seen that afternoon. It would be great if I would go back there, find that raccoon, and bring it home.
"We are not getting a pet raccoon". I said. "No exotic pets in this house".
"But, Mom!" he protested. "On the internet it says that raccoons make great pets! We should get one!".
"Do you believe everything you see on the internet?" I asked him. "You can find all kinds of stuff on the internet that isn't true. Just because you see something on the internet doesn't mean it's a good idea to do it in real life. A raccoon is not a good idea".
"But Mom! That raccoon is so CUTE! And it says on the internet you can have a raccoon living in your house! Our dog would love a raccoon! They could play together in the back yard!"
"We are not getting a pet raccoon! Final word!"
"But Mom, I thought you were a lover of nature!"
On my mental list of Important Life Information that I need to pass on to my offspring before they reach adulthood I mentally highlighted these three items for extra reinforcement:
Just because you see it on the Internet doesn't make it true.
Just because you're on the internet and you see or read about someone else doing something, that doesn't mean that you should do it too.
If you want a pet that is not a dog, cat or hamster you can get one (as long as it's legal) after you become an adult, start paying your own bills, and move out of my house and start living in your own house. My house, my rules- no raccoon!
 |
| No pet raccoon. Sorry, kids. |
Thursday, December 8, 2016
Freezing
Winter has arrived, at least temporarily, in our neck of the woods. With winter's arrival comes the hope that lives eternally in every K-12 student's heart: The unceasing, fervent hope that school will be cancelled because of inclement weather. Never mind that you have to make it up later; the details are unimportant. What's important is no school!
The Son of Never Stops Eating was bouncing around the house last night, making plans for a free day off just in case some miracle occurred between dinner time last night and the start of school this morning. I knew his cause was hopeless; we were forecasted to receive slightly freezing temperatures but no snow or ice. He didn't want to hear it, however. He refused to allow his dreams to be dashed by his pessimistic parents.
Son: Mom, will it be cold enough to cancel school tomorrow?
Me: No, there won't be any ice.
Son: Mom, no kids want to go to school when it's cold.
Me: I can believe that.
Son: No teachers want to be at the school either.
Me: I hear you.
Son: The only people who want us to go to school are the parents.
Yes, that is exactly right. As your mother, and also as a payer of property taxes, I want your butt to be sitting at your desk tomorrow morning, and you better be bright eyed and ready to learn something. In addition, you better have a good attitude about it. If I have to go to work when it's cold, you have to go to school. Suck it up, buttercup. It's a sad story.
Yet, although it was evidently too cold for educational purposes, it was apparently not cold enough to wear any winter clothing. For some reason, teenage boys- or at least the one who resides in my house-seem to be just fine with shorts, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and bare feet while I am bundled up in my long underwear, a sweater, boots with thick socks and two blankets- and the heater on.
I want you to wear a long-sleeved shirt tomorrow, I told him, and a coat. I took his coat out of the hall closet and showed it to him. He slouched down on the sofa. I didn't mention wearing a hat or gloves; I knew that would be asking too much. Some battles you simply will not win.
I don't want to wear a coat, he said. I'm okay with just a t-shirt on. I don't need to wear a coat.
I gave him the Mom Glare in response. Wear the coat, I told him. It's too cold to walk around outside with just a shirt on. Also, I don't want to be known as the mom who lets her kids go outside without the appropriate clothing on. It's the kind of thing that moms get shamed for on Facebook.
I can understand his heart's desire for a school closure. I'll admit that I wouldn't mind a cold day to hang out, drink hot cocoa, and watch the best Christmas movie ever, "Christmas Vacation", before taking a nap. However, after a day of that, I start getting stir crazy and it's no longer fun. I start thinking about all the work I'll have to catch up on after the ice melts, and how someone needs to get brave and go to the grocery store because we're out of milk and chocolate ice cream, and I start wondering if that funky sound the heater is making is normal, or if it's getting ready to explode. At the time the "no work" announcement is made, however, my heart jumps for joy. I'll own it.
You never know what the winter will bring, I told the Son of Never Stops Eating. Today is not your day for no school, but keep hoping. In the meantime, you still have to wear a coat when it's freezing outside.
Apparently, it is never too cold to roll your eyes at your mother.
The Son of Never Stops Eating was bouncing around the house last night, making plans for a free day off just in case some miracle occurred between dinner time last night and the start of school this morning. I knew his cause was hopeless; we were forecasted to receive slightly freezing temperatures but no snow or ice. He didn't want to hear it, however. He refused to allow his dreams to be dashed by his pessimistic parents.
Son: Mom, will it be cold enough to cancel school tomorrow?
Me: No, there won't be any ice.
Son: Mom, no kids want to go to school when it's cold.
Me: I can believe that.
Son: No teachers want to be at the school either.
Me: I hear you.
Son: The only people who want us to go to school are the parents.
Yes, that is exactly right. As your mother, and also as a payer of property taxes, I want your butt to be sitting at your desk tomorrow morning, and you better be bright eyed and ready to learn something. In addition, you better have a good attitude about it. If I have to go to work when it's cold, you have to go to school. Suck it up, buttercup. It's a sad story.
Yet, although it was evidently too cold for educational purposes, it was apparently not cold enough to wear any winter clothing. For some reason, teenage boys- or at least the one who resides in my house-seem to be just fine with shorts, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and bare feet while I am bundled up in my long underwear, a sweater, boots with thick socks and two blankets- and the heater on.
I want you to wear a long-sleeved shirt tomorrow, I told him, and a coat. I took his coat out of the hall closet and showed it to him. He slouched down on the sofa. I didn't mention wearing a hat or gloves; I knew that would be asking too much. Some battles you simply will not win.
I don't want to wear a coat, he said. I'm okay with just a t-shirt on. I don't need to wear a coat.
I gave him the Mom Glare in response. Wear the coat, I told him. It's too cold to walk around outside with just a shirt on. Also, I don't want to be known as the mom who lets her kids go outside without the appropriate clothing on. It's the kind of thing that moms get shamed for on Facebook.
I can understand his heart's desire for a school closure. I'll admit that I wouldn't mind a cold day to hang out, drink hot cocoa, and watch the best Christmas movie ever, "Christmas Vacation", before taking a nap. However, after a day of that, I start getting stir crazy and it's no longer fun. I start thinking about all the work I'll have to catch up on after the ice melts, and how someone needs to get brave and go to the grocery store because we're out of milk and chocolate ice cream, and I start wondering if that funky sound the heater is making is normal, or if it's getting ready to explode. At the time the "no work" announcement is made, however, my heart jumps for joy. I'll own it.
You never know what the winter will bring, I told the Son of Never Stops Eating. Today is not your day for no school, but keep hoping. In the meantime, you still have to wear a coat when it's freezing outside.
Apparently, it is never too cold to roll your eyes at your mother.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
Rental Car
Recently, the Mom of No's beloved personal vehicle suffered an injury: it had an unplanned encounter with an inanimate object, and needed some TLC which only a collision repair center could provide. While my beloved is undergoing its repairs, the insurance company provided me with a rental car.
Not much in the world makes me more nervous and paranoid than driving a rental car.
Because I was out of town, the Dad of No went to pick up the car. When he picked me up at the airport, I asked him, did you pick up my rental car? What kind of car is it? Is it the convertible I asked for? He shook his head. It's a tiny sedan, he replied. You might not like it that much. It was all they had on the lot.
The next morning, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided to go eat breakfast. I got in the car and looked at the back seat.
I think you better sit in the front seat, I told him. I don't think your hamster would fit back there, let alone a six foot tall thirteen year old boy. The Son of Never Stopped Eating got into the front seat and pushed it as far back at it would go. His knees were still sticking up. Tall people were clearly not the target market for this particular car.
Mom, I don't like this car very much, he said. You need to get your car back. We both sighed, thinking of my beloved sitting at the collision repair shop, in pieces.
When I'm driving a rental car, I see every other vehicle on the road as a potential disaster waiting to happen. I park as far away as I can from every other car in the parking lot. I live in fear of hail storms, falling trees, and sinkholes opening up below my driveway and swallowing the rental car whole. Why do I fear these things? Because I can only imagine the paperwork involved if I had to call the rental car company and tell them, hey, you know that tiny little car you gave me? It just got swallowed up by a sinkhole.
When I am in possession of a rental car, I have nightmares that involve horrible things involuntarily happening to the rental car, like someone stealing it out of my driveway, or the car being run over by a huge 18 wheeler hauling heavy equipment. In these dreams I am always completely unharmed but the car is a total loss. As part of these nightmares, I call the car rental place to let them know their car is, well, messed up a bit.
Did you purchase the optional comprehensive damage and loss waiver that you were offered when you picked the car up? the agent asks me.
Well, no, I tell them. My insurance company said I didn't need it.
(Diabolical laughter ensues from rental car representative)
Then I wake up in a cold sweat, and run out the back door to make sure that the car is in the garage, unharmed, and that no sinkholes are forming in my driveway.
Later in the day, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided that we needed to go to Target. We drove the rental car. Our trip there was uneventful, although he asked me why we were parking far away from any other cars. As we walked back to the car after shopping, I spied what I thought was an injury to the car; it looked like something had happened to the paint. The car had a big brown spot on the door that had not been there before.
Oh, s**t! What the f*** happened to the car? I said, standing in the parking lot in the rain, holding my Christmas wrapping paper and a container of chocolate ice cream. Visions of endless paperwork were dancing around in my overactive imagination.
Mom, my son said, I think that might be a wet leaf. It was. So much for my powers of observation.
We drove home, utilizing every defensive driving skill I have ever learned. I think the people behind me might have been a bit annoyed, since I waited for the green arrow to make all my left turns even thought I could have turned on the green light. I was in a rental car; I was not taking any chances.
Hopefully my beloved will be restored to me soon.
Not much in the world makes me more nervous and paranoid than driving a rental car.
Because I was out of town, the Dad of No went to pick up the car. When he picked me up at the airport, I asked him, did you pick up my rental car? What kind of car is it? Is it the convertible I asked for? He shook his head. It's a tiny sedan, he replied. You might not like it that much. It was all they had on the lot.
The next morning, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided to go eat breakfast. I got in the car and looked at the back seat.
I think you better sit in the front seat, I told him. I don't think your hamster would fit back there, let alone a six foot tall thirteen year old boy. The Son of Never Stopped Eating got into the front seat and pushed it as far back at it would go. His knees were still sticking up. Tall people were clearly not the target market for this particular car.
Mom, I don't like this car very much, he said. You need to get your car back. We both sighed, thinking of my beloved sitting at the collision repair shop, in pieces.
When I'm driving a rental car, I see every other vehicle on the road as a potential disaster waiting to happen. I park as far away as I can from every other car in the parking lot. I live in fear of hail storms, falling trees, and sinkholes opening up below my driveway and swallowing the rental car whole. Why do I fear these things? Because I can only imagine the paperwork involved if I had to call the rental car company and tell them, hey, you know that tiny little car you gave me? It just got swallowed up by a sinkhole.
When I am in possession of a rental car, I have nightmares that involve horrible things involuntarily happening to the rental car, like someone stealing it out of my driveway, or the car being run over by a huge 18 wheeler hauling heavy equipment. In these dreams I am always completely unharmed but the car is a total loss. As part of these nightmares, I call the car rental place to let them know their car is, well, messed up a bit.
Did you purchase the optional comprehensive damage and loss waiver that you were offered when you picked the car up? the agent asks me.
Well, no, I tell them. My insurance company said I didn't need it.
(Diabolical laughter ensues from rental car representative)
Then I wake up in a cold sweat, and run out the back door to make sure that the car is in the garage, unharmed, and that no sinkholes are forming in my driveway.
Later in the day, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided that we needed to go to Target. We drove the rental car. Our trip there was uneventful, although he asked me why we were parking far away from any other cars. As we walked back to the car after shopping, I spied what I thought was an injury to the car; it looked like something had happened to the paint. The car had a big brown spot on the door that had not been there before.
Oh, s**t! What the f*** happened to the car? I said, standing in the parking lot in the rain, holding my Christmas wrapping paper and a container of chocolate ice cream. Visions of endless paperwork were dancing around in my overactive imagination.
Mom, my son said, I think that might be a wet leaf. It was. So much for my powers of observation.
We drove home, utilizing every defensive driving skill I have ever learned. I think the people behind me might have been a bit annoyed, since I waited for the green arrow to make all my left turns even thought I could have turned on the green light. I was in a rental car; I was not taking any chances.
Hopefully my beloved will be restored to me soon.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Dear Critters
I have a request to make of all critters out there: Please, I beg you, stand still when I am trying to locate you with my binoculars to identify you or when I am trying to get a picture of you! Stop hiding behind trees and in the brush! Don't run away from me!
I know you think that I am plotting to do you some harm, or that I am considering having you for dinner. I'm honestly not interested in you as a meal. What I really want to do is take your picture so I can upload it to Facebook and iNaturalist. Then I'll go away and leave you alone.
A few weeks ago I acquired an actual new-to-me camera, and I've been playing around with it trying to figure out how it works (I know, I could read the manual, but this way is more fun. Really.) I had envisioned that what was going to happen was that I was going to take this marvel of technology out into the woods, and all the birds were going to fly around my head as if we were in a Walt Disney movie, chirping gleefully and posing like models while I snapped away.
This is NOT what happened.
I could hear the birds- but I couldn't actually see the birds. And when I could see the birds with my eyeballs, I couldn't find the birds with the camera. Clearly, bird-finding is a skill that will require more practice. I'm not terribly unhappy about that; it's another reason/excuse to get outside and on the trails.
When I got home, I downloaded the pictures I had onto the laptop. My son wandered over to take a look, and the first thing he said was "How come you took so many great blue heron pictures?"
Because, unlike sparrows or woodpeckers, great blue herons stand still- and they're easy to find.
Since the walking around and staring at trees technique wasn't working out like I'd planned, I thought I'd try staying in one place until the birds came to me. If I made myself part of the landscape, my thinking went, maybe all the critters would eventually ignore my presence. I chose a likely spot and sat quietly, and just as I started getting impatient, a woodpecker appeared nearby and started pecking away. Just as I had the woodpecker in view, however, my phone rang. It was my son, wanting to see if he could go to his friend's house to play Legos. The woodpecker flew off.
(Naturalist tip #1: turn your mobile device to silent when trying to move stealthily through the woods).
On one of my practice excursions, I decided to try taking pictures of birds flying. This was not as easy as other people make it look when they share pictures of birds in flight. I could see the birds, because they were in the sky. But they were flying around! I tried to anticipate where the bird was going and get a picture of it that way. This somewhat worked:
And this one isn't too bad, for an absolute beginner.
Taking pictures of birds would definitely be a lot easier if the bird would pose in plain sight and not hide behind some branches:
However, my time outdoors has not been entirely filled with uncooperative subjects. The other day I was walking along the trail and a lovely Eastern phoebe flew in front of me, landed on a fence post, and stayed still while I was able to get several pictures.
Thank you, phoebe, for your assistance in my efforts. The rest of you, cooperate, please!
I know you think that I am plotting to do you some harm, or that I am considering having you for dinner. I'm honestly not interested in you as a meal. What I really want to do is take your picture so I can upload it to Facebook and iNaturalist. Then I'll go away and leave you alone.
 |
| Hey, raccoon! Move closer to the trail just a bit so I can get a better picture! |
This is NOT what happened.
I could hear the birds- but I couldn't actually see the birds. And when I could see the birds with my eyeballs, I couldn't find the birds with the camera. Clearly, bird-finding is a skill that will require more practice. I'm not terribly unhappy about that; it's another reason/excuse to get outside and on the trails.
When I got home, I downloaded the pictures I had onto the laptop. My son wandered over to take a look, and the first thing he said was "How come you took so many great blue heron pictures?"
 |
| At least the great blue herons will stand still. |
Since the walking around and staring at trees technique wasn't working out like I'd planned, I thought I'd try staying in one place until the birds came to me. If I made myself part of the landscape, my thinking went, maybe all the critters would eventually ignore my presence. I chose a likely spot and sat quietly, and just as I started getting impatient, a woodpecker appeared nearby and started pecking away. Just as I had the woodpecker in view, however, my phone rang. It was my son, wanting to see if he could go to his friend's house to play Legos. The woodpecker flew off.
(Naturalist tip #1: turn your mobile device to silent when trying to move stealthily through the woods).
On one of my practice excursions, I decided to try taking pictures of birds flying. This was not as easy as other people make it look when they share pictures of birds in flight. I could see the birds, because they were in the sky. But they were flying around! I tried to anticipate where the bird was going and get a picture of it that way. This somewhat worked:
 |
| At least I can tell it's a turkey vulture. |
 |
| Almost centered! |
Taking pictures of birds would definitely be a lot easier if the bird would pose in plain sight and not hide behind some branches:
 |
| Could you move a bit so I can see you clearly? |
However, my time outdoors has not been entirely filled with uncooperative subjects. The other day I was walking along the trail and a lovely Eastern phoebe flew in front of me, landed on a fence post, and stayed still while I was able to get several pictures.
 |
| Eastern phoebe, just being cute. |
Thank you, phoebe, for your assistance in my efforts. The rest of you, cooperate, please!
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Christmas Letter
I don't send out Christmas cards anymore because I am lazy and most of the people I'd send a card to are also my friends on Facebook so I can just post "Merry Christmas everyone!" and achieve pretty much the same result of spreading Christmas cheer but in a more eco-friendly way. However, I enjoy reading the letters that other people send to me in their holiday greetings. Most of them are very upbeat and full of successes and adventures. The letters are always accompanied by adorable photos of the family which clearly took a lot of time and planning.
If I did write a Christmas letter, however, it would probably not sound like those letters. It would probably sound more like this:
Dear Friends and Family,
Enclosed is a picture of the kids. You'll notice that the grass is brown, they are wearing summer clothes and neither one looks particularly enthusiastic. That's because this picture was actually taken on the first day of school and it was about a hundred degrees outside. If the Son of Never Stops Eating's shirt looks a little small, it is. He grew a lot since I bought it. However, it is his favorite shirt and I just haven't had the heart yet to sneak into his room in the middle of the night, pick the shirt up off the floor and hide it at the bottom of the Goodwill box.
Earlier this year we had some extreme excitement when the Teenager finally got her braces taken off. This meant that we no longer had to make a 30 mile round-trip drive down a freeway under major construction every two weeks for a five minute appointment. This past summer, on her mission trip to Tennessee, she called us in a panic because she had stepped on her retainer and thought she had broken it, but it turned out that she'd only bent a wire. Crisis averted.
We thought about taking a family vacation somewhere spectacular, like Alaska or Yellowstone, or maybe a six week trek through Europe, but then we remembered that marching band camp starts on August 1 and apparently there is this zero tolerance policy about missing the first week, so we ended up just driving down to Grandpa's house for a few days. It worked out well because the kids ate all his food and saved me a fortune on my grocery bill.
In related marching band news, I sold over $500 worth of band pies for the annual fundraiser. Let me tell you, $500 worth of pies is a lot of pie. Also, the pies all had to be kept frozen and our freezer is just not that big. It was really stressful at the time, but looking back, it was a hilarious family bonding experience.
Due to a massive wind storm that came through the area in early summer, we got a new fence. Since our old fence was original to the house, this is a dramatic improvement in the appearance of our property. The new fence doesn't lean into the alley at an awkward angle, so our neighbors are probably also happy about the new fence, and the city has stopped sending us letters from the code enforcement officer. Earlier in the year, we had a massive line clog in the kitchen and couldn't use the sink, the dishwasher or the laundry room. It took about ten days to get it fixed. Homeownership is such a joy!
In other news, we also had to get new brakes for the older car and a new washing machine. Two days after the new machine was delivered, it stopped running. locked up, and started flashing codes. After seven hours on the phone with the manufacturer's customer service department, it was determined that the mystery codes meant "This washing machine is defective". The customer service agent said that she'd never seen that code before, so she learned something new. Our second new washing machine seems to be functioning as designed. I was so relieved that the laundry that got locked in there was some old bed sheets and not anything like our underwear or the marching band uniform.
We have a lot of exciting things to look forward to in 2017, including the Teenager taking her driving test, getting new duct work installed in our attic and starting the college application process. This will also be my last season as a high school marching band parent. I'm trying to decide how I feel about that.
May you have a fantastic Christmas and a wonderful New Year!
If I did write a Christmas letter, however, it would probably not sound like those letters. It would probably sound more like this:
Dear Friends and Family,
Enclosed is a picture of the kids. You'll notice that the grass is brown, they are wearing summer clothes and neither one looks particularly enthusiastic. That's because this picture was actually taken on the first day of school and it was about a hundred degrees outside. If the Son of Never Stops Eating's shirt looks a little small, it is. He grew a lot since I bought it. However, it is his favorite shirt and I just haven't had the heart yet to sneak into his room in the middle of the night, pick the shirt up off the floor and hide it at the bottom of the Goodwill box.
Earlier this year we had some extreme excitement when the Teenager finally got her braces taken off. This meant that we no longer had to make a 30 mile round-trip drive down a freeway under major construction every two weeks for a five minute appointment. This past summer, on her mission trip to Tennessee, she called us in a panic because she had stepped on her retainer and thought she had broken it, but it turned out that she'd only bent a wire. Crisis averted.
We thought about taking a family vacation somewhere spectacular, like Alaska or Yellowstone, or maybe a six week trek through Europe, but then we remembered that marching band camp starts on August 1 and apparently there is this zero tolerance policy about missing the first week, so we ended up just driving down to Grandpa's house for a few days. It worked out well because the kids ate all his food and saved me a fortune on my grocery bill.
In related marching band news, I sold over $500 worth of band pies for the annual fundraiser. Let me tell you, $500 worth of pies is a lot of pie. Also, the pies all had to be kept frozen and our freezer is just not that big. It was really stressful at the time, but looking back, it was a hilarious family bonding experience.
Due to a massive wind storm that came through the area in early summer, we got a new fence. Since our old fence was original to the house, this is a dramatic improvement in the appearance of our property. The new fence doesn't lean into the alley at an awkward angle, so our neighbors are probably also happy about the new fence, and the city has stopped sending us letters from the code enforcement officer. Earlier in the year, we had a massive line clog in the kitchen and couldn't use the sink, the dishwasher or the laundry room. It took about ten days to get it fixed. Homeownership is such a joy!
In other news, we also had to get new brakes for the older car and a new washing machine. Two days after the new machine was delivered, it stopped running. locked up, and started flashing codes. After seven hours on the phone with the manufacturer's customer service department, it was determined that the mystery codes meant "This washing machine is defective". The customer service agent said that she'd never seen that code before, so she learned something new. Our second new washing machine seems to be functioning as designed. I was so relieved that the laundry that got locked in there was some old bed sheets and not anything like our underwear or the marching band uniform.
We have a lot of exciting things to look forward to in 2017, including the Teenager taking her driving test, getting new duct work installed in our attic and starting the college application process. This will also be my last season as a high school marching band parent. I'm trying to decide how I feel about that.
May you have a fantastic Christmas and a wonderful New Year!
Thursday, November 24, 2016
His Heart's Desire
The Son of Never Stops Eating has been working diligently on his Christmas wish list.
How do I know this, you might ask? Because he reminds me about it constantly. He has all his favorites bookmarked or memorized, and just when you're busy doing something like trying to take a lasagna out of the oven or paying bills, he'll walk over with the iPad and show you exactly what he'd like to find under the tree on December 25.
A few days ago, I was down with a stomach virus. Not just any ordinary stomach bug, either; this one seemed especially designed to kick my butt into the next century. I was laying in bed rolled up into a human ball of endless agony while fervently wishing that aliens would come abduct me and take me to another dimension when the Son of Never Stops Eating walked in the bedroom and stood over me, a concerned look on his face.
Hi, Mom, he said. How are you doing?
I think I replied by moaning something like "go away", or, more likely, "uuhhggghhhh".
He leaned over me with the family iPad in hand and said, "Mom, I just want to show you this Lego City Prisoner Transport set on Amazon. It says right here there are only four left. Maybe you should buy it now".
A thousand curses on whoever taught that kid to read.
Hint to all youngsters working on their list of heart's desires for Santa Claus to fulfill on Christmas morning: When your mother is laying down in bed because she's too sick to get up, that is not the most strategic time to bring up your Christmas shopping list. Your only move should be to ask, "Can I get you a glass of ginger ale and then leave you alone?".
The Son of Never Stops Eating's birthday is only twenty days before Christmas, so if he's not pondering what he wants for Christmas, he's pondering what he wants for his birthday. I totally get that; I've been known to spend hours on the computer drooling at cameras and binoculars that I wish would magically be dropped down my chimney by the guy in the red suit with all the reindeer. But he's just so darn persistent in making his heart's desire known.
I actually feel like there is a double standard at work here. He has no problem showing me his heart's desires on the iPad several times a day, even though I tell him that I got it; I know what he wants. His wish list is embedded into my brain. But if I ask him to pick up his room or feed the dog more than once, I'm being an annoying, nagging mother and I get the sigh and the eyeroll and the attitude.
The other day, he was very curious as to what my plans were for the day after Thanksgiving. I have a personal rule of never venturing near any retail establishment on Black Friday unless it is under extreme duress. As an introvert, I am not a fan of massive crowds in narrow aisles all aiming to get the last of whatever the hot gift item is of the year. Ordering online is a dream come true.
Why do you want to know, I asked him? I'm probably going to try to go for a hike if it's nice outside.
I thought you might want to go to Target, he responded.
Target? I said. Why would I want to go to Target on Black Friday? I'm not going anywhere near there.
He stared at me like I was missing some extremely vital fact. Then he sighed, pulled out the iPad, and said "Mom, because the Lego City Volcano Explorer set might be on sale! It's my heart's desire!"
I'm not going to Target on the day after Thanksgiving, I told him. He looked disappointed for a brief minute and then cheered up.
Don't worry, Mom! he said. There's always Amazon!
So, between now and Christmas, if you see me in my car hiding out in a parking lot, or at the local coffee shop, sitting in a corner and trying to look inconspicuous, I'm escaping from the iPad with the list of heart's desires on it. Don't tell anyone where I am.
How do I know this, you might ask? Because he reminds me about it constantly. He has all his favorites bookmarked or memorized, and just when you're busy doing something like trying to take a lasagna out of the oven or paying bills, he'll walk over with the iPad and show you exactly what he'd like to find under the tree on December 25.
A few days ago, I was down with a stomach virus. Not just any ordinary stomach bug, either; this one seemed especially designed to kick my butt into the next century. I was laying in bed rolled up into a human ball of endless agony while fervently wishing that aliens would come abduct me and take me to another dimension when the Son of Never Stops Eating walked in the bedroom and stood over me, a concerned look on his face.
Hi, Mom, he said. How are you doing?
I think I replied by moaning something like "go away", or, more likely, "uuhhggghhhh".
He leaned over me with the family iPad in hand and said, "Mom, I just want to show you this Lego City Prisoner Transport set on Amazon. It says right here there are only four left. Maybe you should buy it now".
A thousand curses on whoever taught that kid to read.
Hint to all youngsters working on their list of heart's desires for Santa Claus to fulfill on Christmas morning: When your mother is laying down in bed because she's too sick to get up, that is not the most strategic time to bring up your Christmas shopping list. Your only move should be to ask, "Can I get you a glass of ginger ale and then leave you alone?".
The Son of Never Stops Eating's birthday is only twenty days before Christmas, so if he's not pondering what he wants for Christmas, he's pondering what he wants for his birthday. I totally get that; I've been known to spend hours on the computer drooling at cameras and binoculars that I wish would magically be dropped down my chimney by the guy in the red suit with all the reindeer. But he's just so darn persistent in making his heart's desire known.
I actually feel like there is a double standard at work here. He has no problem showing me his heart's desires on the iPad several times a day, even though I tell him that I got it; I know what he wants. His wish list is embedded into my brain. But if I ask him to pick up his room or feed the dog more than once, I'm being an annoying, nagging mother and I get the sigh and the eyeroll and the attitude.
The other day, he was very curious as to what my plans were for the day after Thanksgiving. I have a personal rule of never venturing near any retail establishment on Black Friday unless it is under extreme duress. As an introvert, I am not a fan of massive crowds in narrow aisles all aiming to get the last of whatever the hot gift item is of the year. Ordering online is a dream come true.
Why do you want to know, I asked him? I'm probably going to try to go for a hike if it's nice outside.
I thought you might want to go to Target, he responded.
Target? I said. Why would I want to go to Target on Black Friday? I'm not going anywhere near there.
He stared at me like I was missing some extremely vital fact. Then he sighed, pulled out the iPad, and said "Mom, because the Lego City Volcano Explorer set might be on sale! It's my heart's desire!"
I'm not going to Target on the day after Thanksgiving, I told him. He looked disappointed for a brief minute and then cheered up.
Don't worry, Mom! he said. There's always Amazon!
So, between now and Christmas, if you see me in my car hiding out in a parking lot, or at the local coffee shop, sitting in a corner and trying to look inconspicuous, I'm escaping from the iPad with the list of heart's desires on it. Don't tell anyone where I am.
Sunday, November 20, 2016
The Low Bar
The older I get, the lower the bar becomes for success in certain endeavors. One example: The traditional Thanksgiving feast.
For years, the Dad of No and I labored over providing a home-cooked, festive Thanksgiving feast to anyone who was in our home on Thanksgiving Day. Actually, I should say that the Dad of No did a significant amount of laboring because (and I know I am about to reveal heresy here) I have no idea how to cook a turkey, and he does.
I do know how to make that green bean casserole, though. The kind with the crunchy onions on top that everyone makes once a year for Thanksgiving. I mention this because I don't want anyone to think I am a total failure in the Traditional Thanksgiving Dinner cooking category. If you ever invite me to your house for Thanksgiving, sign me up for the green bean casserole. I can guarantee perfection.
Once, I found a recipe for a "healthier" version of that casserole from a healthy eating magazine, and I made that instead. It turned out that what everyone really wanted was the kind with the canned green beans and the canned mushroom soup, not the green bean casserole that involved searching out organic fresh green beans and making a creamy mushroom sauce from scratch. I tossed that recipe away.
A few years ago the Dad of No was scheduled for surgery the week of Thanksgiving. I don't remember exactly how that went down, but the Grandparents of No were coming and at first, the Grandpa of No said, hey, we'll just go out to eat dinner, and for various reasons that didn't work out, and then someone hit upon the ideal situation of ordering the dinner pre-cooked from a local grocery store.
I placed the order online and on the day before Thanksgiving, I went and retrieved the dinner. It came in a large cooler bag, and contained a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, rolls, some vegetables, and gravy. The grocery store even tossed in a coupon for a free pie. I remember thinking, if I'd only known all these years. The meal was delicious, and the kitchen was much easier to clean.
The pie was an extra bonus, because the other part of the traditional Thanksgiving Feast I am not very adept at is pumpkin pie. No one in my household likes pumpkin pie. I don't even like pumpkin pie that much. Blueberry? Yes! Key lime? Yes! Chocolate? Yes! Yes! Yes! Pumpkin? meh. Whatever. I know, the Pilgrim Mothers would be shocked and appalled.
Until a few years ago, I did make a dessert for the Traditional Thanksgiving Feast, which was usually some kind of chocolate because that's the only thing that everyone likes. Then the Teenager became a member of the high school marching band, and in a twist of fate that can only be described as serendipitous, the marching band sold pies right before Thanksgiving!
Now, I obtain the Thanksgiving pre-cooked meal from the grocery store, make the unhealthy version of the green bean casserole with the canned soup and fried onions, and buy a few band pies. Voila, my work here is done.
Just in case someone is reading this thinking that I am an awful person, flouting tradition like this, let me assure you: the Family of No does have Thanksgiving traditions- they just don't involve defrosting a raw turkey. For about four years, the Teenager and I have volunteered to cut pumpkin pie at a local church the day before Thanksgiving in preparation for a large Thanksgiving dinner they conduct for the community, and then the day of Thanksgiving we get up early and go run (walk) a 5K Turkey Trot. This way, we can eat all the French Silk Chocolate band pie we want and not feel remotely guilty about it.
Rest assured, however, that the bar is not completely lowered. I hardly decorate and I buy the dinner pre-cooked, but I do still use my wedding china. It's the only time of the year it gets used. The gravy boat, however, stays in the cabinet. We just warm up the gravy in the container and put it on the table with a spoon. It still tastes delicious.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
For years, the Dad of No and I labored over providing a home-cooked, festive Thanksgiving feast to anyone who was in our home on Thanksgiving Day. Actually, I should say that the Dad of No did a significant amount of laboring because (and I know I am about to reveal heresy here) I have no idea how to cook a turkey, and he does.
I do know how to make that green bean casserole, though. The kind with the crunchy onions on top that everyone makes once a year for Thanksgiving. I mention this because I don't want anyone to think I am a total failure in the Traditional Thanksgiving Dinner cooking category. If you ever invite me to your house for Thanksgiving, sign me up for the green bean casserole. I can guarantee perfection.
Once, I found a recipe for a "healthier" version of that casserole from a healthy eating magazine, and I made that instead. It turned out that what everyone really wanted was the kind with the canned green beans and the canned mushroom soup, not the green bean casserole that involved searching out organic fresh green beans and making a creamy mushroom sauce from scratch. I tossed that recipe away.
A few years ago the Dad of No was scheduled for surgery the week of Thanksgiving. I don't remember exactly how that went down, but the Grandparents of No were coming and at first, the Grandpa of No said, hey, we'll just go out to eat dinner, and for various reasons that didn't work out, and then someone hit upon the ideal situation of ordering the dinner pre-cooked from a local grocery store.
I placed the order online and on the day before Thanksgiving, I went and retrieved the dinner. It came in a large cooler bag, and contained a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, rolls, some vegetables, and gravy. The grocery store even tossed in a coupon for a free pie. I remember thinking, if I'd only known all these years. The meal was delicious, and the kitchen was much easier to clean.
The pie was an extra bonus, because the other part of the traditional Thanksgiving Feast I am not very adept at is pumpkin pie. No one in my household likes pumpkin pie. I don't even like pumpkin pie that much. Blueberry? Yes! Key lime? Yes! Chocolate? Yes! Yes! Yes! Pumpkin? meh. Whatever. I know, the Pilgrim Mothers would be shocked and appalled.
Until a few years ago, I did make a dessert for the Traditional Thanksgiving Feast, which was usually some kind of chocolate because that's the only thing that everyone likes. Then the Teenager became a member of the high school marching band, and in a twist of fate that can only be described as serendipitous, the marching band sold pies right before Thanksgiving!
Now, I obtain the Thanksgiving pre-cooked meal from the grocery store, make the unhealthy version of the green bean casserole with the canned soup and fried onions, and buy a few band pies. Voila, my work here is done.
Just in case someone is reading this thinking that I am an awful person, flouting tradition like this, let me assure you: the Family of No does have Thanksgiving traditions- they just don't involve defrosting a raw turkey. For about four years, the Teenager and I have volunteered to cut pumpkin pie at a local church the day before Thanksgiving in preparation for a large Thanksgiving dinner they conduct for the community, and then the day of Thanksgiving we get up early and go run (walk) a 5K Turkey Trot. This way, we can eat all the French Silk Chocolate band pie we want and not feel remotely guilty about it.
Rest assured, however, that the bar is not completely lowered. I hardly decorate and I buy the dinner pre-cooked, but I do still use my wedding china. It's the only time of the year it gets used. The gravy boat, however, stays in the cabinet. We just warm up the gravy in the container and put it on the table with a spoon. It still tastes delicious.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Charging
The Household of No has reached a milestone: we now have more gadgets that require charging than we do actual available electrical outlets.
Our house was built in the early 1980's, when most people only had one telephone unless you were a kind and gracious parent who loved your teenagers enough to get them their own land line, and then you had two telephones. My parents chose not to spring for that second line, which meant that I had to have those top secret gushing about cute boys and complaining about the parents' unfair rules sessions with my BFF's while sitting on the floor in the pantry, staring at canned peas and flour and kitchen appliances that the Grandma of No hid in there, probably so that the neighbors wouldn't think she had a cluttered kitchen.
It likely never occurred to whoever built our house that one day outlet needs would move beyond a television, a microwave, and a toaster.
Now everyone in my house has a phone of their very own. We have iPads and e-readers and rechargeable batteries for digital cameras and handheld game devices and every single one of these items has to be charged, and of course they all have to be charged at the same time, which would be 9:30 PM on Sunday night right after everyone in the house has finished watching The Walking Dead and we all realize at the exact same time that all of our devices need to connect to a power source before we go to bed in preparation for Monday.
My kids even have arguments about chargers. My brother and I had our share of sibling conflict, but we never fought over whose iPad charger was plugged in by the sofa in the living room.
I should have anticipated this crisis a few years ago when I was traveling for work and ended up in a hotel room that had two available outlet plugs for my use. I had a laptop, a cell phone, an e-reader, and a digital camera, all of which needed to be charged. I made the mistake of unplugging the only light in the room that was turned on so that I could use its outlet, and immediately stubbed my big toe on a piece of furniture that had decided to move while the lights were out. The next day I was limping around in pain. One of my co-workers noticed and asked why I was hobbling around.
I was trying to find an outlet to charge my phone and I think I broke my toe, I told him. He just nodded and made no further comment.
I have a box in one of my kitchen cabinets that has extra charger cords. I would be willing to bet that some of them probably go to devices that we no longer actually have. It seems to be some cosmic universal rule that every device has to have its own specific charger, and they seem to break rather easily. One day in the distant future, alien archaeologists from a neighboring galaxy will be conducting a dig where my house once stood; they will find these charger cords and be perplexed.
At least this is a problem that will be solved with time; in less than two years the Teenager will be moving out and taking about a third of all these electronic devices with her. I just hope the dorm room she moves into has more than four electrical outlets. It will be a good opportunity to practice some negotiating skills with a roommate.
Our house was built in the early 1980's, when most people only had one telephone unless you were a kind and gracious parent who loved your teenagers enough to get them their own land line, and then you had two telephones. My parents chose not to spring for that second line, which meant that I had to have those top secret gushing about cute boys and complaining about the parents' unfair rules sessions with my BFF's while sitting on the floor in the pantry, staring at canned peas and flour and kitchen appliances that the Grandma of No hid in there, probably so that the neighbors wouldn't think she had a cluttered kitchen.
It likely never occurred to whoever built our house that one day outlet needs would move beyond a television, a microwave, and a toaster.
Now everyone in my house has a phone of their very own. We have iPads and e-readers and rechargeable batteries for digital cameras and handheld game devices and every single one of these items has to be charged, and of course they all have to be charged at the same time, which would be 9:30 PM on Sunday night right after everyone in the house has finished watching The Walking Dead and we all realize at the exact same time that all of our devices need to connect to a power source before we go to bed in preparation for Monday.
My kids even have arguments about chargers. My brother and I had our share of sibling conflict, but we never fought over whose iPad charger was plugged in by the sofa in the living room.
I should have anticipated this crisis a few years ago when I was traveling for work and ended up in a hotel room that had two available outlet plugs for my use. I had a laptop, a cell phone, an e-reader, and a digital camera, all of which needed to be charged. I made the mistake of unplugging the only light in the room that was turned on so that I could use its outlet, and immediately stubbed my big toe on a piece of furniture that had decided to move while the lights were out. The next day I was limping around in pain. One of my co-workers noticed and asked why I was hobbling around.
I was trying to find an outlet to charge my phone and I think I broke my toe, I told him. He just nodded and made no further comment.
I have a box in one of my kitchen cabinets that has extra charger cords. I would be willing to bet that some of them probably go to devices that we no longer actually have. It seems to be some cosmic universal rule that every device has to have its own specific charger, and they seem to break rather easily. One day in the distant future, alien archaeologists from a neighboring galaxy will be conducting a dig where my house once stood; they will find these charger cords and be perplexed.
At least this is a problem that will be solved with time; in less than two years the Teenager will be moving out and taking about a third of all these electronic devices with her. I just hope the dorm room she moves into has more than four electrical outlets. It will be a good opportunity to practice some negotiating skills with a roommate.
Saturday, November 12, 2016
In the Woods
I walk in the woods
To mend my soul.
I must abide here for awhile
Quiet, still, calm
I hear the river in the distance flowing.
Like many a dragonfly
My wings are tattered
But I will still fly.
I stand and let the wind
Flow through me
One day soon I will hear the squawk
Of the Great Blue Heron
Summoning me back
Once again to venture into the world.
To mend my soul.
I must abide here for awhile
Quiet, still, calm
I hear the river in the distance flowing.
Like many a dragonfly
My wings are tattered
But I will still fly.
I stand and let the wind
Flow through me
One day soon I will hear the squawk
Of the Great Blue Heron
Summoning me back
Once again to venture into the world.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Sibling Love
The other day, after school and work and before dinner, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I went for a walk down to the park, along with the family mutt. As we were meandering along, letting the dog sniff the grass, he mentioned that they had talked about texting and driving at school.
Texting and driving is bad, he informed me. No one should text and drive. You can get pulled over by the POLICE! Or you can get into a BAD accident with your car. A really bad accident and the ambulance will come!
I nodded in agreement.
Mom, he said, I don't want you to ever text and drive. And when I drive I am NOT EVER going to text and drive. Because it's bad, and I don't want to get into an accident. And I don't want to get a ticket from the police.
I told him I agreed. I didn't want him texting and driving, either.
And, he said, I'm going to tell MY SISTER to never text and drive. Because I don't want her to get into an accident. So I'm going to tell her no texting and driving!
To that, I just raised my eyebrows, smiled, and made noncommittal "good luck with that" sounds.
I can only imagine how that discussion will go over with the Teenager. One thing I feel sure of is that sixteen year old girls don't really enjoy getting lectures, even well-meant ones, from their younger brothers on things they should not be doing.
My two kids have had what I think of as the typical love-hate relationship between two siblings somewhat close in age. One minute they would be in the Teenager's room having a "campout", watching videos on TV and eating popcorn while snuggled up in a nest constructed of every blanket we own. The next day, the love would evaporate and be replaced with the complaint every parent knows: MOM! TELL HIM/HER TO STOP BOTHERING ME!
Several years ago, I hit upon one of my favorite parenting techniques, called the "Rest Stop Calisthenics Offspring Bickering Reduction Technique". I was on a road trip with the two little darlings to see the Grandparents of No. The two kids had been fighting in the back of the car about everything from where we were going to stop for lunch (I want McDonalds! Well, I HATE McDonalds! I want Sonic! Sonic sucks! We always go where you want to go and it's NOT FAIR!) to "MOM! Tell him to stop looking at me!" "Mom, she's kicking me!" "I'm not kicking you! Stop trying to get me in trouble!".
I noticed an exit sign for a rest stop, so I took it and pulled over. I ordered the two miscreants out of the vehicle and told them to stand by a table and do jumping jacks until I told them to stop. They both stared at me for a minute, trying to decide if I was serious.
Start now! I told them, in my best drill sergeant voice. They looked at each other as if to say "I think she's serious!" and then began jumping. After about twenty jumping jacks, I had them stop and then race around the tables and up and down a small hill. By then they were both out of breath and laughing. Ten minutes later we were back in the car, one asleep and the other watching a movie on the mini DVD player. It was pure parental bliss. For the rest of the trip, I heard not a single bicker from either one.
Of course, a day later, the warm fuzzies had worn off and everything returned to normal, which is to say that they were arguing about who got to watch what on TV and complaining about the other one doing something obnoxious like eating all the Doritos or not flushing the toilet.
However, they both watch out for each other even while they don't want to admit that they even like each other. That is why I think it's incredibly sweet that the Son of Never Stops Eating is worried about his sister texting while driving even though I also know that when he tells her that she shouldn't do it, she'll probably roll her eyes and tell him he's being a pain and to go away.
Sibling love.
Texting and driving is bad, he informed me. No one should text and drive. You can get pulled over by the POLICE! Or you can get into a BAD accident with your car. A really bad accident and the ambulance will come!
I nodded in agreement.
Mom, he said, I don't want you to ever text and drive. And when I drive I am NOT EVER going to text and drive. Because it's bad, and I don't want to get into an accident. And I don't want to get a ticket from the police.
I told him I agreed. I didn't want him texting and driving, either.
And, he said, I'm going to tell MY SISTER to never text and drive. Because I don't want her to get into an accident. So I'm going to tell her no texting and driving!
To that, I just raised my eyebrows, smiled, and made noncommittal "good luck with that" sounds.
I can only imagine how that discussion will go over with the Teenager. One thing I feel sure of is that sixteen year old girls don't really enjoy getting lectures, even well-meant ones, from their younger brothers on things they should not be doing.
My two kids have had what I think of as the typical love-hate relationship between two siblings somewhat close in age. One minute they would be in the Teenager's room having a "campout", watching videos on TV and eating popcorn while snuggled up in a nest constructed of every blanket we own. The next day, the love would evaporate and be replaced with the complaint every parent knows: MOM! TELL HIM/HER TO STOP BOTHERING ME!
Several years ago, I hit upon one of my favorite parenting techniques, called the "Rest Stop Calisthenics Offspring Bickering Reduction Technique". I was on a road trip with the two little darlings to see the Grandparents of No. The two kids had been fighting in the back of the car about everything from where we were going to stop for lunch (I want McDonalds! Well, I HATE McDonalds! I want Sonic! Sonic sucks! We always go where you want to go and it's NOT FAIR!) to "MOM! Tell him to stop looking at me!" "Mom, she's kicking me!" "I'm not kicking you! Stop trying to get me in trouble!".
I noticed an exit sign for a rest stop, so I took it and pulled over. I ordered the two miscreants out of the vehicle and told them to stand by a table and do jumping jacks until I told them to stop. They both stared at me for a minute, trying to decide if I was serious.
Start now! I told them, in my best drill sergeant voice. They looked at each other as if to say "I think she's serious!" and then began jumping. After about twenty jumping jacks, I had them stop and then race around the tables and up and down a small hill. By then they were both out of breath and laughing. Ten minutes later we were back in the car, one asleep and the other watching a movie on the mini DVD player. It was pure parental bliss. For the rest of the trip, I heard not a single bicker from either one.
Of course, a day later, the warm fuzzies had worn off and everything returned to normal, which is to say that they were arguing about who got to watch what on TV and complaining about the other one doing something obnoxious like eating all the Doritos or not flushing the toilet.
However, they both watch out for each other even while they don't want to admit that they even like each other. That is why I think it's incredibly sweet that the Son of Never Stops Eating is worried about his sister texting while driving even though I also know that when he tells her that she shouldn't do it, she'll probably roll her eyes and tell him he's being a pain and to go away.
Sibling love.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Dance
The Son of Never Stops Eating went to his first school dance, and he liked it.
He told me that it was okay to mention that he went to the dance as long as I made it clear that he was not going to the dance because there were girls there; he was going to the dance to see his friends and eat pizza, and those were the only two reasons he was going anywhere near that dance. He emphasized this several times, so I wanted to get that out up front. The possibility that girls would be present at the dance was in no way a determining factor in his decision to attend.
Also, he was not going to dress up or even put on a clean shirt, and he saw no reason to freshen up by brushing his teeth or combing his hair. He'd already done all that once that day, apparently, and there was no need to do it again. His preparations consisted of putting his shoes on and getting in the car.
I took him to the school and walked in with him so I could find out how much the pizza was going to cost per slice. I figured that I was probably going to end up buying at least one entire pizza, so I was prepared to fork over some significant cash. I was actually somewhat in shock that he'd even expressed any interest in crossing the threshold of the middle school when it wasn't actually required of him. I kept expecting him to say he'd changed his mind and he wanted to go home, but he didn't.
I found out how much pizza was going to be ($1 per slice: very reasonable) and I handed over some cash. He looked at it, said "Thanks, Mom; don't worry, I won't lose it", stuck it in his pocket, and walked into the cafeteria where the dance was being held. He didn't even say good-bye to his mother.
Let me tell you, I almost wanted to cry.
Actually, I had to resist the very strong temptation to run after him, hug him, and tell him to have a good time and then plant a huge, embarrassing mom kiss on his cheek (I would have said forehead, but I can't actually reach that anymore). I couldn't believe that he'd just walked away from me. So much for Mom! Now I know where I stand in the overall scheme of things: I am the provider of transportation and pizza money.
When he was first diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, way back when he was in kindergarten, I sat in my car after the conversation with the school diagnostician and I wept. I would watch him screaming his head off for some reason I could not discern, or see how he was falling developmentally behind other kids his age, and I would think, this is my life. He will never have friends. He'll never do anything for himself. He'll never learn to read, or dress himself, or go out in public without having a meltdown. This is what it will be like forever. It will never be any different than it is now, and I'm not sure that I can do it.
Other, more experienced, parents would tell me no, it will get better, you'll see. Go ahead and cry and grieve for what you are thinking you have lost, and you'll get on with life because you really don't have much of a choice and then you'll look up one day and realize that you are making it work. But I wasn't ready to hear it yet.
It never actually occurred to me that one day I'd be standing outside the middle school by myself, feeling a little old and awkward, after handing over a fortune in pizza cash to a six-foot tall almost 14 year old who was voluntarily going to a school dance to see his friends and eat pizza (but not dance with girls), all by himself. The kid who once wouldn't let me out of his sight had just walked away from me without looking back.
I may or may not have shed a few tears when I got back to my car. This time around, they would have been happy tears.
He told me that it was okay to mention that he went to the dance as long as I made it clear that he was not going to the dance because there were girls there; he was going to the dance to see his friends and eat pizza, and those were the only two reasons he was going anywhere near that dance. He emphasized this several times, so I wanted to get that out up front. The possibility that girls would be present at the dance was in no way a determining factor in his decision to attend.
Also, he was not going to dress up or even put on a clean shirt, and he saw no reason to freshen up by brushing his teeth or combing his hair. He'd already done all that once that day, apparently, and there was no need to do it again. His preparations consisted of putting his shoes on and getting in the car.
I took him to the school and walked in with him so I could find out how much the pizza was going to cost per slice. I figured that I was probably going to end up buying at least one entire pizza, so I was prepared to fork over some significant cash. I was actually somewhat in shock that he'd even expressed any interest in crossing the threshold of the middle school when it wasn't actually required of him. I kept expecting him to say he'd changed his mind and he wanted to go home, but he didn't.
I found out how much pizza was going to be ($1 per slice: very reasonable) and I handed over some cash. He looked at it, said "Thanks, Mom; don't worry, I won't lose it", stuck it in his pocket, and walked into the cafeteria where the dance was being held. He didn't even say good-bye to his mother.
Let me tell you, I almost wanted to cry.
Actually, I had to resist the very strong temptation to run after him, hug him, and tell him to have a good time and then plant a huge, embarrassing mom kiss on his cheek (I would have said forehead, but I can't actually reach that anymore). I couldn't believe that he'd just walked away from me. So much for Mom! Now I know where I stand in the overall scheme of things: I am the provider of transportation and pizza money.
When he was first diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, way back when he was in kindergarten, I sat in my car after the conversation with the school diagnostician and I wept. I would watch him screaming his head off for some reason I could not discern, or see how he was falling developmentally behind other kids his age, and I would think, this is my life. He will never have friends. He'll never do anything for himself. He'll never learn to read, or dress himself, or go out in public without having a meltdown. This is what it will be like forever. It will never be any different than it is now, and I'm not sure that I can do it.
Other, more experienced, parents would tell me no, it will get better, you'll see. Go ahead and cry and grieve for what you are thinking you have lost, and you'll get on with life because you really don't have much of a choice and then you'll look up one day and realize that you are making it work. But I wasn't ready to hear it yet.
It never actually occurred to me that one day I'd be standing outside the middle school by myself, feeling a little old and awkward, after handing over a fortune in pizza cash to a six-foot tall almost 14 year old who was voluntarily going to a school dance to see his friends and eat pizza (but not dance with girls), all by himself. The kid who once wouldn't let me out of his sight had just walked away from me without looking back.
I may or may not have shed a few tears when I got back to my car. This time around, they would have been happy tears.
Friday, October 28, 2016
Halloween Colors
For the past few weeks, butterflies have been migrating through my neck of the woods. It's been a spectacular show, and I've had a great time observing them and getting some pictures. It seems that orange and black is a common theme among these butterflies- almost as if Nature is putting out her Halloween decorations for us to appreciate. Unlike snakes or spiders, it's hard to find someone who doesn't at least like butterflies.
The other day, a lone monarch found its way to our front yard. My son ran in the house to find me, wanting to show me "our" butterfly. We went back outside and watched it as it clung to a leaf for awhile. He took a picture of it with his iPad. Eventually it flew off. I was excited to see that he was excited about his butterfly observation.
You might notice that most of the butterflies are on a purple plant called marsh fleabane. This year, there were large patches of it near one of my favorite trails, and the butterflies were going crazy for it. For a couple of weeks in early to mid October, I could just stand in that spot and watch the monarchs, Gulf fritillaries, and queen butterflies fly from plant to plant. The monarchs moved on, but the red admirals are coming through, and the Gulf fritillaries, variegated fritillaries, and viceroys are still around.
I enjoy Halloween, especially the spooky decorated houses and the Trick or Treaters coming through on Halloween night to acquire their loot, but I have a special appreciation for these lovely butterflies.
Happy Halloween! May you have a spooky, fantastic day!
The other day, a lone monarch found its way to our front yard. My son ran in the house to find me, wanting to show me "our" butterfly. We went back outside and watched it as it clung to a leaf for awhile. He took a picture of it with his iPad. Eventually it flew off. I was excited to see that he was excited about his butterfly observation.
You might notice that most of the butterflies are on a purple plant called marsh fleabane. This year, there were large patches of it near one of my favorite trails, and the butterflies were going crazy for it. For a couple of weeks in early to mid October, I could just stand in that spot and watch the monarchs, Gulf fritillaries, and queen butterflies fly from plant to plant. The monarchs moved on, but the red admirals are coming through, and the Gulf fritillaries, variegated fritillaries, and viceroys are still around.
I enjoy Halloween, especially the spooky decorated houses and the Trick or Treaters coming through on Halloween night to acquire their loot, but I have a special appreciation for these lovely butterflies.
 |
| Fiery skipper |
 |
| Gulf fritillary |
 |
| Viceroy |
 |
| Monarch |
 |
| Phaon Crescent |
 |
| Queen butterfly |
 |
| Red admiral |
Happy Halloween! May you have a spooky, fantastic day!
Monday, October 24, 2016
Didn't I Just Do This?
Didn't we just have Halloween? Back in 2015?
I know, it's 2016. An entire year has gone by. However, when I put up the decorations outside my house (don't get excited and start looking for pictures of lavish exterior decor; by "decorations" what I'm really referring to are the two pumpkins I bought at the grocery store last week) I kept thinking, didn't we just have pumpkins out here? Or was that some kind of dream?
My offspring are at the ages at which the question "Are you going to go Trick or Treating?" is a complicated one. First, there's the age-old debate of "What age is too old to go Trick or Treating?" If there is an actual cutoff age, my kids are both probably past it. However, since my personal parenting philosophy can probably best be described as "If it doesn't involve filing an insurance claim, I'm going to try not to stress out too much about it", I don't see it as a question worth having angst over. They'll know when they're too old.
Second, when I asked the question of the Teenager, I got this response: "Mom, I can't; I have band practice! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll) and then I have to come home and do my physics homework! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll #2)". So I took that as a no, at least for the moment. I thought about suggesting that she could go Trick or Treating as a marching band clarinet player just home from practice, but I know when to keep my mom ideas to myself.
The Son of Never Stops Eating was far more enthusiastic about the idea. Free food! What's not to like about that? However, there was the matter of his costume to resolve.
A few years ago I made him a Lorax costume. Just in case you might be thinking I actually did something crafty, I will clarify: I sewed two pieces of orange fleece together and cut holes for his head and his arms. Then I went to Target and bought a bright orange wig. When I presented it to him for the first time, he looked at it dubiously and then said "Mom, I don't think anyone will know I'm the Lorax".
Don't worry about it, I told him. Just tell them you speak for the trees.
When I made this costume, the fleece tunic was too big for him. Now, I suspect it might reach somewhere mid-thigh. I haven't had him try it on yet, but I'm hoping we can get one more year out of it. Otherwise, I'll have to get clever and do something like locate one of his Special Olympics swimming medals, hang it around his neck and have him tell people he's an Olympian. If I can find five or six medals, he can be Michael Phelps.
However, it really seems like just last year that the Teenager wanted to be a princess or a ballerina or a butterfly (or a princess ballerina butterfly- why limit yourself?) and the Son of Never Stops Eating's Lorax costume reached below his knees.
Perhaps it's because I have a birthday rapidly approaching, but every year at this time, I start feeling like some great cosmic force is pressing the fast-forward button on my life. Didn't I just buy Halloween candy? Didn't I just go to the dentist? Didn't we just start marching band season, and now it's almost over? Didn't I just have a birthday, after which I set up all these great goals I was going to accomplish before the next October, so I could look back on my year and say "I ran that marathon! I finally finished crocheting that granny square blanket! I redecorated my sunroom! I signed up for that yoga class!". Instead, I'm looking back on the past year thinking, hey, at least I finally got around to scheduling a mammogram!
A year ago it seemed like a year was a long time; twelve months in which many great deeds would be accomplished. Now I'm sitting here, thinking, didn't we just take down our Christmas tree a few months ago? When did summer end?
Perhaps that's why I'm resisting telling the offspring that Trick or Treat is no more; as I become increasingly aware every year how fast time is passing, I am reluctant to speed up time for the offspring, even as the Lorax costume gets smaller and Princess Ballerina Butterfly has morphed into a sleep-deprived teenager with band practice and too much homework. Their own clocks will begin fast-forward soon enough.
Meanwhile, I'm wrestling with the fact that, although I feel like I just finished Christmas shopping, it's time to start making the list all over again.
I know, it's 2016. An entire year has gone by. However, when I put up the decorations outside my house (don't get excited and start looking for pictures of lavish exterior decor; by "decorations" what I'm really referring to are the two pumpkins I bought at the grocery store last week) I kept thinking, didn't we just have pumpkins out here? Or was that some kind of dream?
My offspring are at the ages at which the question "Are you going to go Trick or Treating?" is a complicated one. First, there's the age-old debate of "What age is too old to go Trick or Treating?" If there is an actual cutoff age, my kids are both probably past it. However, since my personal parenting philosophy can probably best be described as "If it doesn't involve filing an insurance claim, I'm going to try not to stress out too much about it", I don't see it as a question worth having angst over. They'll know when they're too old.
Second, when I asked the question of the Teenager, I got this response: "Mom, I can't; I have band practice! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll) and then I have to come home and do my physics homework! (insert heavy sigh and eyeroll #2)". So I took that as a no, at least for the moment. I thought about suggesting that she could go Trick or Treating as a marching band clarinet player just home from practice, but I know when to keep my mom ideas to myself.
The Son of Never Stops Eating was far more enthusiastic about the idea. Free food! What's not to like about that? However, there was the matter of his costume to resolve.
A few years ago I made him a Lorax costume. Just in case you might be thinking I actually did something crafty, I will clarify: I sewed two pieces of orange fleece together and cut holes for his head and his arms. Then I went to Target and bought a bright orange wig. When I presented it to him for the first time, he looked at it dubiously and then said "Mom, I don't think anyone will know I'm the Lorax".
Don't worry about it, I told him. Just tell them you speak for the trees.
When I made this costume, the fleece tunic was too big for him. Now, I suspect it might reach somewhere mid-thigh. I haven't had him try it on yet, but I'm hoping we can get one more year out of it. Otherwise, I'll have to get clever and do something like locate one of his Special Olympics swimming medals, hang it around his neck and have him tell people he's an Olympian. If I can find five or six medals, he can be Michael Phelps.
However, it really seems like just last year that the Teenager wanted to be a princess or a ballerina or a butterfly (or a princess ballerina butterfly- why limit yourself?) and the Son of Never Stops Eating's Lorax costume reached below his knees.
Perhaps it's because I have a birthday rapidly approaching, but every year at this time, I start feeling like some great cosmic force is pressing the fast-forward button on my life. Didn't I just buy Halloween candy? Didn't I just go to the dentist? Didn't we just start marching band season, and now it's almost over? Didn't I just have a birthday, after which I set up all these great goals I was going to accomplish before the next October, so I could look back on my year and say "I ran that marathon! I finally finished crocheting that granny square blanket! I redecorated my sunroom! I signed up for that yoga class!". Instead, I'm looking back on the past year thinking, hey, at least I finally got around to scheduling a mammogram!
A year ago it seemed like a year was a long time; twelve months in which many great deeds would be accomplished. Now I'm sitting here, thinking, didn't we just take down our Christmas tree a few months ago? When did summer end?
Perhaps that's why I'm resisting telling the offspring that Trick or Treat is no more; as I become increasingly aware every year how fast time is passing, I am reluctant to speed up time for the offspring, even as the Lorax costume gets smaller and Princess Ballerina Butterfly has morphed into a sleep-deprived teenager with band practice and too much homework. Their own clocks will begin fast-forward soon enough.
Meanwhile, I'm wrestling with the fact that, although I feel like I just finished Christmas shopping, it's time to start making the list all over again.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Phone Photography
When I'm not working at my real job (the one where I get paid) or volunteering in the band concession stand, or chauffeuring adolescents to activities, my favorite activity is wandering around the nature preserve and taking pictures with my iPhone.
I have many reasons why I use my iPhone instead of a "real camera". First, I enjoy the challenge. Second, it's' a lot easier to carry around a phone than lugging around a lot of equipment. Third, I have two teenagers who like to eat (a lot), and my grocery bill is astronomical. I can't afford a camera; I'm lucky to get Starbucks once a week. I admit that when I'm out on the trail and I see photographers with their high-end equipment getting some fantastic shots, the little green envy monster rears its ugly head for a few moments, but then I'm distracted by something cool and out comes the iPhone.
I've learned a few things about nature iPhone photography that I am passing on to you, in case you are tempted to try a little iPhone nature photography yourself.
1. Lighting is everything. If you can get in good light, your pictures will look better. Experiment with your phone and the natural light and figure out what works for you.
2. Watch out for snakes. I'm not kidding. Not because I am afraid of snakes- I like snakes. But I also don't want to get bitten by a copperhead while trying to get a picture of something else.
3. Start out by taking pictures of things that don't move, like plants or fungi, especially if you are just getting started with iPhone nature photography. You can take all the time you want to practice with your phone. When something is stationary, you can experiment with what angles work best, how to get a focused shot up close, and maybe even get a little artistic.
4. Be zen with nature. I know this might sound a little weird, but I think the critters pick up on your vibes. If you're calm and patient, you will have success.
5. The time of day can have an effect on your results. I've gotten some good pictures of dragonflies in the early morning while they are still settled on a branch.
6. Accept the limitations of the technology. For example, I will never get a picture of a belted kingfisher with my phone. When you see something good and you know it isn't going to work, just be in the moment.
7. Take a lot of pictures. If they aren't any good, you can delete them. When you get home, you might be surprised at what you get- and the more pictures you take, the better you will get at it.
8. Lesson learned the hard way: Make sure you charge your phone before heading out onto the trail.
9. Don't compare your pictures to others' in a negative way. My personal philosophy is that it's all about the process- hiking, being outside, learning about the natural world by observation. My iPhone pictures aren't as good as a professional photographer's, but I enjoy taking them, and I enjoy finding plants, animals and fungi to take pictures of. When I do get a good shot, I'm excited about it.
10. Be prepared to branch out depending on the opportunities offered. If it has just rained, I'm out looking for fungi- but if I see a butterfly, I'm going to see if I can get a picture of it. You never know what will cross your path. A few weeks ago, I was walking down a trail. and right in front of me was a very colorful stump stabber depositing its eggs into a tree. Did I get a picture of it? You bet I did, even though I actually didn't know what it was doing when I took the picture (ovipositing).
11. Don't be afraid to change your angle by getting down on the ground or even standing on your tiptoes to get a picture. Just be aware of what you're doing and where you are. I once got down on the ground to get a picture of some moss and when I stood up, my son pointed to a plant that was right where I'd been and said "Hey, Mom, isn't that poison ivy?"
12. Learn a little about the habits of the critters you are trying to capture- when are they most active? What do they like to eat? Do they like swampy areas, or bright sun? Will they possibly bite you if you get too close?
13. Get on iNaturalist and share your observations with the rest of us. When you keep a record of your observations you'll start noticing patterns that help plan future iPhone photography excursions. I noticed that my own photography got much better once I started sharing it.
I think people are often intimidated by the idea of getting out into nature (Snakes! Spiders!). When you don't know a lot about wildlife, the idea of going for a hike can be daunting. When you take that first nature iPhone shot, you might feel that it pales in comparison to others'. Soon, though, you'll find that you are getting into the moment, enjoying the outdoors, learning about the natural world, and having a great time.
I have many reasons why I use my iPhone instead of a "real camera". First, I enjoy the challenge. Second, it's' a lot easier to carry around a phone than lugging around a lot of equipment. Third, I have two teenagers who like to eat (a lot), and my grocery bill is astronomical. I can't afford a camera; I'm lucky to get Starbucks once a week. I admit that when I'm out on the trail and I see photographers with their high-end equipment getting some fantastic shots, the little green envy monster rears its ugly head for a few moments, but then I'm distracted by something cool and out comes the iPhone.
I've learned a few things about nature iPhone photography that I am passing on to you, in case you are tempted to try a little iPhone nature photography yourself.
1. Lighting is everything. If you can get in good light, your pictures will look better. Experiment with your phone and the natural light and figure out what works for you.
 |
| Hackberry Emperor |
2. Watch out for snakes. I'm not kidding. Not because I am afraid of snakes- I like snakes. But I also don't want to get bitten by a copperhead while trying to get a picture of something else.
 |
| Copperhead |
3. Start out by taking pictures of things that don't move, like plants or fungi, especially if you are just getting started with iPhone nature photography. You can take all the time you want to practice with your phone. When something is stationary, you can experiment with what angles work best, how to get a focused shot up close, and maybe even get a little artistic.
 |
| Blazing Stars |
4. Be zen with nature. I know this might sound a little weird, but I think the critters pick up on your vibes. If you're calm and patient, you will have success.
5. The time of day can have an effect on your results. I've gotten some good pictures of dragonflies in the early morning while they are still settled on a branch.
6. Accept the limitations of the technology. For example, I will never get a picture of a belted kingfisher with my phone. When you see something good and you know it isn't going to work, just be in the moment.
7. Take a lot of pictures. If they aren't any good, you can delete them. When you get home, you might be surprised at what you get- and the more pictures you take, the better you will get at it.
 |
| Familiar bluet |
8. Lesson learned the hard way: Make sure you charge your phone before heading out onto the trail.
9. Don't compare your pictures to others' in a negative way. My personal philosophy is that it's all about the process- hiking, being outside, learning about the natural world by observation. My iPhone pictures aren't as good as a professional photographer's, but I enjoy taking them, and I enjoy finding plants, animals and fungi to take pictures of. When I do get a good shot, I'm excited about it.
 |
| Texas spiny lizard |
10. Be prepared to branch out depending on the opportunities offered. If it has just rained, I'm out looking for fungi- but if I see a butterfly, I'm going to see if I can get a picture of it. You never know what will cross your path. A few weeks ago, I was walking down a trail. and right in front of me was a very colorful stump stabber depositing its eggs into a tree. Did I get a picture of it? You bet I did, even though I actually didn't know what it was doing when I took the picture (ovipositing).
 |
| Stump stabber |
11. Don't be afraid to change your angle by getting down on the ground or even standing on your tiptoes to get a picture. Just be aware of what you're doing and where you are. I once got down on the ground to get a picture of some moss and when I stood up, my son pointed to a plant that was right where I'd been and said "Hey, Mom, isn't that poison ivy?"
12. Learn a little about the habits of the critters you are trying to capture- when are they most active? What do they like to eat? Do they like swampy areas, or bright sun? Will they possibly bite you if you get too close?
13. Get on iNaturalist and share your observations with the rest of us. When you keep a record of your observations you'll start noticing patterns that help plan future iPhone photography excursions. I noticed that my own photography got much better once I started sharing it.
I think people are often intimidated by the idea of getting out into nature (Snakes! Spiders!). When you don't know a lot about wildlife, the idea of going for a hike can be daunting. When you take that first nature iPhone shot, you might feel that it pales in comparison to others'. Soon, though, you'll find that you are getting into the moment, enjoying the outdoors, learning about the natural world, and having a great time.
Monday, October 17, 2016
Early Voting
In less than a week, early voting for the November 8 election will start. I plan to be at the polls on the first day, ready to cast my ballot. Believe me, I am ready.
I am a fan of early voting. During the 2008 election season, I was away from home for an extended period of time on a work assignment, and the day I returned home also happened to be Election Day. Because I didn't plan ahead and get an absentee ballot, voting on Election Day was my only option. I got to my polling place about 15 minutes before the polls closed, and even though I'd been driving all day and couldn't wait to see my family, I went in and did my duty as a responsible citizen. I didn't even stop to go to the bathroom first even though I needed to go (somewhat urgently- it was a long drive). It was a good thing I knew who I was going to vote for. I don't think my bladder could have survived indecision.
Not voting was not an option. I appreciate voting, if only because I can mutter under my breath "Take that, you (insert profanity)" to politicians I don't like as I vote against them and get that momentary feeling of satisfaction.
I've learned my lesson. No voting procrastination.
My decision has been made for months (no, I'm not telling you who I'm voting for or who I think you should vote for; hopefully you've done your own research, and I don't think one blog post would change anyone's mind anyway) and I can't wait to cast that ballot because then the election will be over for me! When I walk out of the polls it will be happy unicorns and cute puppies and glitter rainbows and Mary Poppins singing happy songs while I dance to my car! My Facebook feed will be full of nothing but cats and memes about coffee and adorable baby photos!
Oh, no, wait a minute. It probably won't be like that.
I have ambivalent, conflicted feelings about social media, especially Facebook. It's a lot of fun and it's a great way to connect with people, learn about things you're interested in (snakes, fungi, butterflies), and it's a very efficient way to sell band pies to friends and relatives (you know who you are; thank you!). Facebook can also serve as a window into others' thinking, preferences and personalities, and sometimes those insights might be things you would have preferred not to know.
I will admit that some of those insights have affected my relationships with other people, and they may not even be aware of it. I have friends and acquaintances of all different political persuasions, and I wanted desperately to think that it didn't matter, that our relationships would be the same, that differences of opinion could be worked through. It turned out that could not be the case in some instances, and that has been hard to accept.
After I cast my ballot next week, I will probably exhale a huge sigh of relief; I'll feel some temporary joy in knowing that my work as a voter is done. However, that feeling will likely not last long. It will probably end the very next time I turn on the TV or log into Facebook.
Even when this election is over, on the evening of November 8th, I don't think it will really be over for a long time. I don't know what will happen; that is way outside my area of expertise. I suspect, however, that if we really want to repair the damage that has been done by this election, it will involve a lot of hard work.
Meanwhile, if you're going to vote, I highly recommend early voting. You never know if a kid will get sick, or the car will break down, or a giant earthquake will crack the foundation of your house in two. A final piece of advice: go to the bathroom before you go vote. You have no idea how long the lines might be.
I am a fan of early voting. During the 2008 election season, I was away from home for an extended period of time on a work assignment, and the day I returned home also happened to be Election Day. Because I didn't plan ahead and get an absentee ballot, voting on Election Day was my only option. I got to my polling place about 15 minutes before the polls closed, and even though I'd been driving all day and couldn't wait to see my family, I went in and did my duty as a responsible citizen. I didn't even stop to go to the bathroom first even though I needed to go (somewhat urgently- it was a long drive). It was a good thing I knew who I was going to vote for. I don't think my bladder could have survived indecision.
Not voting was not an option. I appreciate voting, if only because I can mutter under my breath "Take that, you (insert profanity)" to politicians I don't like as I vote against them and get that momentary feeling of satisfaction.
I've learned my lesson. No voting procrastination.
My decision has been made for months (no, I'm not telling you who I'm voting for or who I think you should vote for; hopefully you've done your own research, and I don't think one blog post would change anyone's mind anyway) and I can't wait to cast that ballot because then the election will be over for me! When I walk out of the polls it will be happy unicorns and cute puppies and glitter rainbows and Mary Poppins singing happy songs while I dance to my car! My Facebook feed will be full of nothing but cats and memes about coffee and adorable baby photos!
Oh, no, wait a minute. It probably won't be like that.
I have ambivalent, conflicted feelings about social media, especially Facebook. It's a lot of fun and it's a great way to connect with people, learn about things you're interested in (snakes, fungi, butterflies), and it's a very efficient way to sell band pies to friends and relatives (you know who you are; thank you!). Facebook can also serve as a window into others' thinking, preferences and personalities, and sometimes those insights might be things you would have preferred not to know.
I will admit that some of those insights have affected my relationships with other people, and they may not even be aware of it. I have friends and acquaintances of all different political persuasions, and I wanted desperately to think that it didn't matter, that our relationships would be the same, that differences of opinion could be worked through. It turned out that could not be the case in some instances, and that has been hard to accept.
After I cast my ballot next week, I will probably exhale a huge sigh of relief; I'll feel some temporary joy in knowing that my work as a voter is done. However, that feeling will likely not last long. It will probably end the very next time I turn on the TV or log into Facebook.
Even when this election is over, on the evening of November 8th, I don't think it will really be over for a long time. I don't know what will happen; that is way outside my area of expertise. I suspect, however, that if we really want to repair the damage that has been done by this election, it will involve a lot of hard work.
Meanwhile, if you're going to vote, I highly recommend early voting. You never know if a kid will get sick, or the car will break down, or a giant earthquake will crack the foundation of your house in two. A final piece of advice: go to the bathroom before you go vote. You have no idea how long the lines might be.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Candy Angst
Have I ever told you that I have a tendency to overthink things?
I was at the grocery store doing the usual grocery shopping, and realized that Halloween is only two weeks away, so it would probably be a good idea to buy some Halloween candy. Most normal people probably just grab a few bags of whatever happens to be on sale or whatever happens to be within reach and toss them in the cart, but I have Halloween candy decision making angst.
The first question that I have to answer is "Do I want to buy the candy that I like, or do I want to buy the candy that I don't like?". If I buy the candy I like, then chances are good that I might open the pantry door the next day and think, "Hey, I'll just help myself to a couple of these Mini Snickers." and before I know it, we'll be out of candy and I'll be making snarky comments about how the dryer keeps shrinking my clothes.
If I buy the candy I don't like, then we will get not a single Trick or Treater, and I'll be stuck with Halloween candy I don't actually want. The last time that happened, I took the leftover candy to work and it turned out that all my co-workers were on diets or didn't like candy with nuts or just had dental surgery and all the candy sat on the break room table for weeks until it mysteriously disappeared.
The second question that I have to answer is "How much candy do I actually want to buy?". When I stock up on candy, anticipating massive amounts of Trick or Treaters bravely coming to the door of my spooky lair, almost no one comes. I'm reduced to standing on the sidewalk waving down cars, yelling "It's Halloween! Don't you want some candy? Please stop! I need you to take this candy!".
When I buy just one bag of candy, the deluge of kids starts early and never lets up. For some reason, kids don't go for the idea of "Hey, how about I give you a Halloween candy I.O.U and you can come back tomorrow and I'll give you twice the amount of candy I would have given you tonight! It's a win-win, right?". Meanwhile the Dad of No is rummaging around in the pantry for something candy-like to give out and coming up with things like candy canes from the previous Christmas that were supposed to have been used to make reindeer tree ornaments, or the canned beets that I bought to put in a salad six months ago because I'd heard somewhere that beets are healthy and you should eat more of them.
I can just see the kid lucky enough to get those candy canes or beets going back to his or her house after Trick or Treat is over and presenting his candy to his parents for inspection and payment of the parental Candy Tax, only to have them exclaim to each other in amazement, "Who gives out candy canes and canned beets for Halloween?". Then they'd post a selfie of them with the can of beets on social media, and my identity would somehow come to light. I'd end up as the infamous Beet Lady, scorned across the nation. No, raiding the pantry is too risky these days.
I know that in the past, I've had other parents tell me that they've re-gifted their own kids' candy to other Trick or Treaters, but I know I can't get away with that because my kids know how to count, and they both know exactly how many Reese's Peanut Butter cups and Twizzlers they are supposed to have. They even get possessive over the candy I know they aren't going to eat. I've heard stories (probably from the Grandpa of No, reminiscing about the good old days) about running out of candy and then using change from the kitchen change jar, which at first sounds like a good idea, and then I realize that I don't actually have a change jar.
Finally, after standing in the candy aisle for awhile, a store employee comes by and asks if I need any help. No, I tell him. I just need to buy some Halloween candy. He gives me this look that says "You're standing in the candy aisle; how hard can that be?" and walks away, and I realize that I am definitely overthinking this whole candy thing, and I toss a few bags of something that looks candy-like in the cart and move on.
I'm still not sure what I bought because I took the bag the candy was in and tossed it way back in the pantry behind the dog food container in the hopes that hungry teenagers won't find it before October 31. I think it was actually Halloween candy that I bought. However, if you do happen to get candy canes this year, those are fresh and not from last Christmas. I promise.
I was at the grocery store doing the usual grocery shopping, and realized that Halloween is only two weeks away, so it would probably be a good idea to buy some Halloween candy. Most normal people probably just grab a few bags of whatever happens to be on sale or whatever happens to be within reach and toss them in the cart, but I have Halloween candy decision making angst.
The first question that I have to answer is "Do I want to buy the candy that I like, or do I want to buy the candy that I don't like?". If I buy the candy I like, then chances are good that I might open the pantry door the next day and think, "Hey, I'll just help myself to a couple of these Mini Snickers." and before I know it, we'll be out of candy and I'll be making snarky comments about how the dryer keeps shrinking my clothes.
If I buy the candy I don't like, then we will get not a single Trick or Treater, and I'll be stuck with Halloween candy I don't actually want. The last time that happened, I took the leftover candy to work and it turned out that all my co-workers were on diets or didn't like candy with nuts or just had dental surgery and all the candy sat on the break room table for weeks until it mysteriously disappeared.
The second question that I have to answer is "How much candy do I actually want to buy?". When I stock up on candy, anticipating massive amounts of Trick or Treaters bravely coming to the door of my spooky lair, almost no one comes. I'm reduced to standing on the sidewalk waving down cars, yelling "It's Halloween! Don't you want some candy? Please stop! I need you to take this candy!".
When I buy just one bag of candy, the deluge of kids starts early and never lets up. For some reason, kids don't go for the idea of "Hey, how about I give you a Halloween candy I.O.U and you can come back tomorrow and I'll give you twice the amount of candy I would have given you tonight! It's a win-win, right?". Meanwhile the Dad of No is rummaging around in the pantry for something candy-like to give out and coming up with things like candy canes from the previous Christmas that were supposed to have been used to make reindeer tree ornaments, or the canned beets that I bought to put in a salad six months ago because I'd heard somewhere that beets are healthy and you should eat more of them.
I can just see the kid lucky enough to get those candy canes or beets going back to his or her house after Trick or Treat is over and presenting his candy to his parents for inspection and payment of the parental Candy Tax, only to have them exclaim to each other in amazement, "Who gives out candy canes and canned beets for Halloween?". Then they'd post a selfie of them with the can of beets on social media, and my identity would somehow come to light. I'd end up as the infamous Beet Lady, scorned across the nation. No, raiding the pantry is too risky these days.
I know that in the past, I've had other parents tell me that they've re-gifted their own kids' candy to other Trick or Treaters, but I know I can't get away with that because my kids know how to count, and they both know exactly how many Reese's Peanut Butter cups and Twizzlers they are supposed to have. They even get possessive over the candy I know they aren't going to eat. I've heard stories (probably from the Grandpa of No, reminiscing about the good old days) about running out of candy and then using change from the kitchen change jar, which at first sounds like a good idea, and then I realize that I don't actually have a change jar.
Finally, after standing in the candy aisle for awhile, a store employee comes by and asks if I need any help. No, I tell him. I just need to buy some Halloween candy. He gives me this look that says "You're standing in the candy aisle; how hard can that be?" and walks away, and I realize that I am definitely overthinking this whole candy thing, and I toss a few bags of something that looks candy-like in the cart and move on.
I'm still not sure what I bought because I took the bag the candy was in and tossed it way back in the pantry behind the dog food container in the hopes that hungry teenagers won't find it before October 31. I think it was actually Halloween candy that I bought. However, if you do happen to get candy canes this year, those are fresh and not from last Christmas. I promise.
Thursday, October 13, 2016
Butterfly and Spider: A Sad Story
The other day I was out hiking at my favorite nature area- and as I was watching some butterflies flitting around, one of them flew directly into this garden spider's web and was promptly killed and trussed up. One minute, that was a butterfly roaming free. The next minute, it was spider food. There's a life lesson here: Watch out for spider webs, because you never know when one will entangle you while you are just going about your business. Or something like that.
The End.
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