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A Sticky Situation

I kept getting stuck behind this truck today, and I was absentmindedly reading the bumper stickers, thinking, This is why I don’t get bumper stickers, because I really don’t know what I would want to use to showcase my personality to all the drivers around me. Then I realized that this person is kind of the exact opposite of me.

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I couldn’t get the bumper stickers to all show up well, so I’ll just tell you what they are. Counter clockwise from top left:

“Hunt with your kids – not for them”

“I’d Rather Be Fly Fishing – Rock Creek Fisherman’s Something, Clinton, MT”

“My Labrador is Smarter Than Your Honor Student” (secretly, these stickers really bug me – it might be the remnants of the honor student left deep inside)

“Testicle Festival, Rock Creek Lodge, Montana – I Had a Ball!”

See what I mean? Opposite of me.

On the other hand, choosing the assortment of adhesives that is going to define you to the world is not an easy task.

You can go political:

obama

Philosophical:

coexist

Family-focused:

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Family-focused while also making it clear that you have a sense of humor:

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Athletic:

marathon

Pop-cultured:

downton abbey

Literary (feel free to make this as obnoxious or not as you like):

ulysses

Showing school spirit or other pride:

uc davis

Or very obscure:

obscure

So you can see it’s hard to figure out what stance you want to take. As a high schooler, I would have gone half literary, half weird pop culture. As a college student, I would probably have gotten more obscure. I hate to default to Baby on Board now. But I guess that’s why I have nothing identifying myself to the world at large. Maybe I would do better to describe myself in terms of what I am NOT: I don’t hunt, I don’t love my lhasa apso, I wouldn’t rather be shopping, my other car isn’t a motorcycle, etc.

I probably WOULD use a bumper sticker of a Stephen King quote though…

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Being a girl Drew Family

Paper Moon

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-Ella Fitzgerald, “Paper Moon”

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Am I “White Luxe Diamond Strong”?

FullSizeRender (5)I thought that by the time I was an adult, I’d have a handle on certain things. Easy things. Things that shouldn’t be hard to figure out. Things like what flavor of toothpaste I like.

I like Crest, and I like Crest Pro-Health…at least I think I do. But without fail, every time I go to buy toothpaste, I stand there trying to figure out what type of mint I got last time and didn’t like, or what was that kind I got that one time that I really liked? The names of them don’t help at all: Fresh Mint, Clean Mint, Fresh Clean Mint (not making that up), Herbal Mint, Arctic Fresh…but which one do I like??

I just saw they have Cinnamon now. Maybe I would like that.

I don’t get why this is so hard for me. I’m a grown-up. Why can’t I keep this straight?

I wonder if Drew has a favorite flavor. I’ve never asked him. This strikes me as the kind of thing he wouldn’t care about. But I could be wrong.

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July 4, 2015

I would be remiss to not begin by saying that Drew has been amazing lately. He has been incredibly supportive and encouraging, even though we both know that as we get closer to the arrival of baby #2, things are just getting slower and more challenging (for me), and more amped up and threenager (with B), and then pretty soon (like very soon), there’s going to be a newborn in the mix. Drew is the only one who doesn’t have some kind of biological excuse to be crazy, and he’s been taking on a lot.

So I just now (like 20 minutes ago) finished my third term of grad school, and I can say now that I think it was great – I feel like I learned A LOT in the last 10 weeks. But this end was harrowing and it was unfair that it fell on Fourth of July weekend. There has been a lot of socializing in the past couple weeks, and it eats into my homework time, which has been making me panicky. BUT, I just submitted my final papers for both classes, and so everything is done.

We did take some time yesterday to do Fourth of July things – like all wearing flag tshirts together. (But then Drew and I both changed before we went out.)

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B has been waking up super early the past several weeks (like pre-6am), so he gets tired in the middle of the day, and sometimes, like yesterday, he takes super long naps, then is extra cuddly afterwards. It’s hard to complain about that.

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We took some selfies, and went to Target.

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When we came home, some neighbors were doing fireworks outside with their kid. I took B outside to watch, and our neighbor (actually I’m not sure, I’ve never seen him before) gave us 2 boxes of poppers and 2 boxes of sparklers. We used all the poppers, and then Drew and I hemmed and hawed and decided to try one sparkler. I definitely had a death grip on B the whole time, but he was really cute doing it.

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After this one, I got him to trade me the rest of the sparklers for some bubbles, which are much less nervewracking.

Then, when it was nearly bedtime, B went to the fridge and got out this apple and just started eating it. We were both like, Well, it’s an apple, so that’s fine. But then he proceeded to eat the entire thing. And I mean, the entire thing. Like a pony.

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It took him so long to eat this one apple he was up later than usual, but he was so cute most of yesterday. It’s easy to let him stay up later when he’s eating whole apples and reading the ABC book and generally just being adorable.

So, it was a great Fourth of July. And I still have half a day left of this weekend in which to take a nap! So, that’s my cue, bye.

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Happy birthday, Grandma!

Today is my grandma’s birthday! Happy birthday, Grandma!

Here is one of my favorite throwback pictures of her:

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Isn’t that a gorgeous photo? I don’t even know what year it is or what beach it’s taken at, but I just love how classy it is.

Recently I was given a bunch of stuff that’s been in storage in her garage, and one of the things is a folder with an envelope of negatives and the contact sheet to go with them. It’s a bunch of photos I’ve never seen of my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and parents, plus me as a toddler, at our house. It’s kind of cool because I don’t have a lot of memories of big gatherings there – we usually went to my grandparents’ house for holidays and stuff. So to see everyone in “my” back yard is special.

I have been looking for a place that will develop the photos for me, but did you know that photo developing (well, negative scanning, really) has become an obsolete art? I found a place down the peninsula that will do it, but I just have to get there. And remember to bring the negatives with me. Hopefully next week.

Incidentally, my grandma and I share a birthday. It’s always been one of those things that made me feel special and extra close to her. A week or so ago, my mom told me that she made that happen with her mind…that I was due on June 15 but she thought, Oh, if I can wait 2 more days they’ll share a birthday. (Pregnancy was apparently different back then, haha.) At any rate, I’m glad she managed it!

Happy birthday, Grandma! I hope you have a wonderful, blessed day!

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Game of Chairs

We are Game of Thrones fanatics around here, and this past weekend was episode 8 (of 10), so this season is getting really good. On Sunday, B was playing with this set of castle furniture he got from his godmother Erin a long time ago, and he held up this piece to me and said, “Whass that?”

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Sometimes I get really excited about teachable moments, so I go into this like, “Ooh, it’s a THRONE,* and it’s like this really special seat for kings and queens to sit on when they rule” kind of monologue. After which B looks at it again, says, “Zat’s a chair,” and drops it to go for the next interesting thing.

Take that, Westeros!

*I mean truthfully, I just think this is the throne, it’s like the throniest thing in the set, but it doesn’t look anything like the iron throne, which is okay, but I guess what I’m saying is I might have been mistaken in calling it a throne, but it doesn’t really matter, because he “emperor’s new clothes”ed me anyway.

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Books Fiction Writing

The Ticket (a sestina)

Last week for school, I wrote a paper on the postal service reform of 1840, and how the postal service in the Victorian Age parallels what the internet is for our age. I won’t bore you with that.

This week I wrote a bunch of stuff about Isabella Beeton, who wrote The Book of Household Management, the full title of which is The Book of Household Management: Comprising information for the Mistress, Housekeeper, Cook, Kitchen-Maid, Butler, Footman, Coachman, Valet, Upper and Under House-Maids, Lady’s-Maid, Maid-of-all-Work, Laundry-Maid, Nurse and Nurse-Maid, Monthly Wet and Sick Nurses, etc. etc.—also Sanitary, Medical, & Legal Memoranda: with a History of the Origin, Properties, and Uses of all Things Connected with Home Life and Comfort. I don’t know about you, but I find stuff like this awesome. It reminds me of the Emily Post Etiquette books. I have read some of The Book of Household Management (you can get the Kindle version on Amazon for $2.99) and there is just something so fascinating about how specific the guidelines are for a woman’s behavior, duties, and role in society.

But, I actually have a whole second class too, which is a writing class, called Studies in Place & Setting. I’ve been worried that I’m neglecting this class a little bit, because the Victorian era class is taking up a lot more of my time (see above). But I think that’s the nature of the two different types of classes. (Also, I’m a little jealous of people who take classes without also having a full time job, and/or a 2 1/2 year old running around.)

Anyway, for Studies in Place & Setting, this week we were asked to write a creative piece about someone who loses something or someone, tangible or not. I decided to write a sestina, which is one of my favorite poetry forms. This is basically the first draft of it.

The Ticket 

Lydia hitches her bag up onto her shoulder
And makes a break for the turnstile. The train
Is coming, moving faster than seems safe,
As it hurtles into the station. She skids to a stop
On the platform, the train a wall of silvery gray
Blurring in front of her, like all the friends she has lost.

The doors slide open. The riders look lost,
Fitted in like puzzle pieces, shoulder to shoulder,
Just another Monday morning commute, slate gray
Like the sky outside the windows of the train.
Lydia gently shoves her way in, looking for her stop
On the map above her head. She feels safe

Among these people. Lydia thought safe
Was the last thing she’d feel, essentially lost
In a big city. Her parents had tried to put a stop
To her leaving home. Her mother had cried on her shoulder
When Lydia boarded that Amtrak train,
Leaving that little town of black and white and gray.

She maneuvers her hand into the cool gray
Interior of her purse, checking that her ticket is safe.
She knows she needs it to get off the train.
But her biggest fear: the ticket is lost!
Not in her purse, not in her pocket; her shoulder,
The one not stuck against the wall, starts trembling and won’t stop.

The people lurch as one as the train heaves into its stop.
Lydia feels like her skin is struck gray.
A man stumbles into her, briefly touches her shoulder
As passengers exit around her, their tickets clutched safe
In their fists. Lydia thinks for a second of the lost
Opportunity: the job interview waiting just off the train.

She is still standing there as the punctual train
Doors close, and the beast rumbles out of Lydia’s stop.
She thinks of all the things she’s willingly lost:
Her parents, most of her accent, the horizon-wide gray
Skies of home. That limitless sky made her feel safe.
Anyway, she was never sure about taking this job onto her shoulder.

There is always another train home, and a gray
Farmhouse at some nameless stop. She holds this safe
In her heart, the lost ticket suddenly a weight off her shoulder.

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TBT: First memory

While we were in Lakeport a couple weeks ago, I mentioned something about how I wanted to get some ABC cookie cutters. (Kinda silly since do you know how complicated making roll-out cookies is?? I never do it.) But my mom said she had some, and she went to find them.

She didn’t have the ABCs, but she had a set of numbers, which is also cool…and she also came back with this box:

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I saw this box and it was a huge immediate blast from the past. I feel like my first real, conscious memory (unlike the vague “feelings” I have about being at my grandparents’ house in Van Nuys before they moved to Northern California) was standing in the kitchen looking at these cookie cutters, and being delighted to have them for my very own. I have the notion that they came from the SF Exploratorium although that’s probably wrong.

But look at the back of this box. That is some juvenile handwriting there. That has to put at least a “no later than” date on it.

Memory is a funny thing, because it just goes, doesn’t it? Not even just your first memories, but then also like, what did I spend all my time doing in high school? (Hanging out with my bff?) When was the first time I ever met Drew? (A class, I think?) What was B like in those newborn days? (I remember him sleeping a lot, and us stressing over his weight gain.) How do I not remember these things that you’d think would be kind of important…?

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Fun with Fire Hydrants

B has gotten really into spotting fire hydrants, which is interesting for me because I never really paid any attention to them. But they’re all over. (I guess that’s a good thing.) They also come in a surprising range of colors.

We were driving home from somewhere, and talking about all the fire hydrants, when Drew mentioned something about “the blue reflectors.” I didn’t know what he was talking about, so he started pointing out the blue reflectors, just off of the center line, every time there was a fire hydrant on the side of the road.

I have noticed these reflectors before, but accepted them as…what? Nothing? Sometimes I deliberately run over them because it’s satisfying to aim for something and feel that bump-bump. But now that I know what they represent…I see them everywhere. I feel like a whole new world of city planning has opened up for me.

Am I the only person who didn’t know the purpose of the blue reflectors??

  

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Children Drew Family Food Humor Nonfiction

What I Learned from Meal Planning

I got this idea in my head that meal planning is a grown-up thing to do. I remember as a kid having a weekly (or monthly??) menu posted on the fridge, and then I think that for the most part we actually followed that menu.

I have said before (loudly and frequently!) that the hardest, most tiring part of being a parent is being in charge of someone else’s meals every single day, particularly when that person is a 2-year-old who primarily wants pappunoni pizza, watermelon, meenut butter and jim, or cake. So when meal planning, I tried really hard to take this opinionated little guy into account, and plan things that we could all actually eat together.

We did one week of following a meal plan, and here’s what I learned:

You can’t actually shop for the whole week at once.

This was my original grand plan. I had a gift card to Safeway and I went and stocked up on basics and necessities, and I was really proud when all I paid was $18 over the gift card amount. But the truth is, you can’t always buy produce on Sunday that’s for eating on Friday. We lost a couple things that way, and I had to do a second trip partway through the week.

I guess I should have known that. I’m aware of how quickly produce goes. But I got so caught up in the money-saving, time-saving, health-conscious extravaganza that I was taking on that I didn’t really think about all the logistics.

Cooking meals each night takes a lot of time.

It was really nice to have the pressure off at 5pm when the “What’s for dinner” conversations started happening. But, here’s the thing: Usually, B eats at 6pm and we just hang out with him, and then Drew and I eat after B goes to bed. So not only was one of us spending a bunch of time each night preparing a more elaborate meal than usual…but that time was happening between 5-6pm, prime play time.

Also, Drew and I probably forage for dinner 2 or 3 days a week. For example, last night he had eggs and chicken-apple sausage, and I had a sandwich. These took 10 minutes to prepare concurrently. So just in general, cooking a family meal every night added a lot of time to the in-the-kitchen schedule.

…But it is nice to have leftovers.

It was really nice to have interesting leftovers for all of us to take for lunch the next day. B gets a lot of repeat meals, so being able to throw something new in there was probably nice for him, and made me feel like I was being a good parent. Also, since I went on a big grocery shopping trip, I wanted to be able to parlay that into lunches so I didn’t have to spend money during the week.

There’s actually an element of “planning.”

I didn’t realize how to manage the details. I just threw things on different days, and tried to space out all the chicken. But now I know, if you have two meals that use basil, maybe put them closer together so your basil doesn’t completely wilt between them. Or, if you know Survivor is on on Wednesday nights, don’t plan something elaborate that you’re going to have to be either cooking or cleaning up while the show is starting. And give yourself an “egg sandwich” night in the middle of the week, as a break from all the “shepherd’s pie” nights.

Sometimes something comes up.

There’s a lot more life getting in the way than I realized. When planning, I had to work around such things as Easter, dinners out with friends, and other events. We ended up doing this on the least busy week possible, so that we could really give it the old college try, but there always seems to be something coming up.

We also have a slight disadvantage in that Drew doesn’t get home before 5pm, and I am usually at least half an hour behind him. When I think about my parents or my friends, many of whom are teachers, I realize that they have a major heads up over us in that they are home earlier in the day. One friend of mine posted a recipe on Facebook, saying that it was super easy because you could just stick it in the oven and come back 2 hours later. While I do appreciate the ease of that, and plan on taking advantage of it on a weekend, I just don’t have 2 hours’ worth of cooking time on a weeknight.

Overall

It’s really nice to just have a plan in place. And to have that plan include vegetables, which are already in the fridge and ready to be cooked. Without a plan, we have nearly nightly conversations that go, “What do you want for dinner?” “I don’t know, do you have any feelings?” “I don’t know, I just want you to pick something.” “Well, I don’t know…” So going a week without having that conversation was really nice.

Some nights, B would eat what we were eating and it was like this magical curtain of “we’re doing it right!” fell around us. Some nights he was not interested at all and we had to settle for “oh well, we tried.”

I tried to make another weekly schedule but then it just kind of fell through. Maybe next week we can get back on the wagon, because I think overall it was beneficial, albeit tiring.

Help me out with next week, and leave me a comment with your favorite plan-in-advance weeknight meal! (Bonus points if a toddler will eat it.)