The Twelve Days of Christmas

If our Secret Santa happens to read this blog ... we LOVE it!

What a gift you've given us. Each day, the kids wonder, "What's coming tonight???" They look forward to it in the morning and after school, then lovingly add the piece at night. I tried to get them down about an hour earlier the other night, but they refused because they "had" to wait and see what was delivered!

We feel so special.

If you're not our Secret Santa, well, guess what?
Each night, a new piece of an adorable nativity set has been left at the door, always accompanied by a sharp knock and a rhymed note ... but we're too slow & haven't spotted the gifters yet. :)

You've helped create a wonderful spirit of Christmas in our home!

Overheard at the playground

I helped with a few holiday crafts in Annie's class this a.m. & stayed after a bit to watch them play on the playground.

The word spread quickly!!! that there was a spider on the rock wall.

Here's just what I heard on the park bench - this is an accurate report, not an exaggeration:
1st kid - "Annie's mom, there is a spider on the rock wall. I just told the teacher."
2nd kid, a few minutes later - "There is a black widow spider over there!"
3rd kid - "There is a baby tarantula on the rock wall!!!"
2nd kid, back again - "Haden just killed the poisonous spider."

Then a friendly little fellow came over and asked me my name.
"I'm Mrs. Littlefield."
"I'm Jace Powder."
"Hi, Jace," I said.
"You can call me Miss Powder."

Favorite Christmas album

Hands down, "We Three Kings" by the Roches, released back in 1990 and found in my Christmas stocking last year!
Here's their website, and this is one of the original carols on the album, "Star of Wonder"

Gratitude

For all of the kind posts - and calls - after "The Last of the Good, Fun Times", I thank you, friends. I really appreciate the outpouring of love & wisdom.

It's going to be a great holiday season and I do recognize all the things that are going well. I know you'll pardon me for wallowing a little.

I love the idea, from Becca, that I do have a time-turner - it just moves forward. True indeed. In fact, I can already tell that 2009 will be a new year, literally, figuratively, emotionally, legally :).

The difficult aspect of all of this that I'm working on letting go of is that this is not my choice. It may be {partly} my fault (see previous list of personal failings - ha ha), but it is not my choice. I do not want it and wish to avoid it.

In those musings, I was reminded of this passage from "The Ballad of the Sad Cafe" by Carson McCullers, a stunning novella I read long ago as an undergrad in my favorite Dr. Clark's class. I have been on both ends of this kind of thing, and neither is easy. It was just interesting to reflect on the difference of being the lover and the beloved, to use McCullers' words. I'm sure all of you can relate:

There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries. Often the beloved is only a stimulus for all the stored-up love which has lain quiet within the lover for a long time hitherto. And somehow every lover knows this. He feels in his soul that his love is a solitary thing. He comes to know a new, strange loneliness and it is this knowledge which makes him suffer. So there is only one thing for the lover to do. He must house his love within himself as best he can; he must create for himself a whole new inward world—a world intense and strange, complete in himself. Let it be added here that this lover about whom we speak need not necessarily be a young man saving for a wedding ring—this lover can be man, woman, child, or indeed any human creature on this earth.

Now, the beloved can also be of any description. The most outlandish people can be the stimulus for love. A man may be a doddering great-grandfather and still love only a strange girl he saw in the streets of Cheehaw one afternoon two decades past. The preacher may love a fallen woman. The beloved may be treacherous, greasy-headed, and given to evil habits. Yes, and the lover may see this as clearly as anyone else—but that does not affect the evolution of his love one whit. A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lilies of the swamp. A good man may be the stimulus for a love both violent and debased, or a jabbering madman may bring about in the soul of someone a tender and simple idyll. Therefore, the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself.

It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved. Almost everyone wants to be the lover. And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many. The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved. The lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.

"A Good Appetite"

I think I've already extolled the virtues of Melissa Clark's New York Times food column on the lowdown, but I don't think I've given her writing an entire post of praise. But it's Wednesday & I just finished reading the new column. (Gotta say, I'm enjoying this time off. The semester is over and I'm catching up on work ... and a little leisure.)

Each week or so, Clark whips up something delicious with a twist ... and writes about it, from the uses of fresh corn to bake ahead breads that work for Thanksgiving. I like the structure of her writing - a little personal anecdote, a cooking challenge given to herself, a description of the search & process, mention of any setbacks, and voila! the delicious result.

Today's column is about pot roast. It says something that a vegetarian like me drools at her description of pot roast.

The fun part for any of you who like food writing - and her food writing is fun, accessible and witty - is reading all the past "A Good Appetite" columns.

If you're like me, you'll also peruse her website.

Does this mean more marvelous cooking in our own kitchens? Maybe. But I can enjoy it vicariously too.

No offense

to any/all Republicans!!! But as the car pool inched along slowly this afternoon - cold weather meant the kids stayed inside the building & were called out one by one - I had to smile at this bumper sticker on the green Saturn in front of me.

The last of the good, fun times

Well, not really ... we've had plenty of good, fun times since then (don't worry!), but I do wish I could get ahold of Hermione's time turner, and travel back to summer 2006.

This was a stop at the Hagerman Fossil Beds between Twin Falls and Boise, and we had a sun-kissed great time. No missed plane, no death of Papa Higgins, no ADHD (well, no diagnoses, at least ...), no diabetes, no breakdown of family structure, no selling our house, no separation, no rejection, no (what I think of as) breach of contract in lighter moments.

What would I change if I could turn back time?
Hard to put all of my insights into a single blog post ... that's something I'll be unraveling well into the future.

But I would be more patient, more Christlike, more thoughtful, more accepting, more loving, more the way I should have been all along. Also, I would be more ... me. I forgot myself along the way.

Regret can crush us, and I've felt quite crushed this last year, because no matter what anyone else says or thinks or perceives, I know I was not the kind of Christlike partner I promised to be. Sure, into every life a little stress must come, and my life - our shared live - was not always simple/easy, but I know in my heart of hearts that if I had more fully lived the gospel principles I espouse, these photos wouldn't be the last of their kind.

Ah ... I suppose this is a bit personal. I've avoided too much boo-hoo-ing on this blog, but I hope it's not inappropriate to share some of this.

My greatest regret is that at times I let my desire for a 'Celestial family' harden into Expectation, since I've learned that Expectation is the enemy of happiness. At least it was in our family. Expectation kills exploration. Expectation is a fossil. Expectation is toxic. Expectation is also hard to unpack.

I spent too much time focusing on my goals and intentions and not enough time being truly charitable. I spent too much time pursuing an ideal that, in fact, could never exist. What a waste!

Because I wanted regular temple attendance, because I wanted happy-family-all-together-FHE, because I wanted constant progression and improvement (myself included, most certainly!!!), I let - as Michael Scott so aptly says - "the ends justify the mean."

Sometimes I joke about this tendency - and I know I'm not alone - but it does not bring satisfaction. It's the griping at everyone to get ready more quickly so that we can make it to church on time and feel the spirit there. It's the crying because no one's paying any attention during family scripture study. I'm not totally sure how to be more zen, more in the moment, less concious of deadlines and comparisons and all of that, but I'm getting better.

I often pray that this life lesson not be wasted. Even though I'll never get another chance with this particular broken relationship, I hope I can be the kind of mother I want to be, the kind of friend, the kind of daughter, the kind of teacher, the kind of person.

Perhaps I required suffering of this magnitude to really learn. If so, then I'm glad for the lesson ... but deeply sad it did not come with a do-over clause.

Sir Knight

This guy is pretty darn sweet.


Harper doesn't quite agree, but I'm hoping after he's neutered, they'll be able to get along more peacefully. As Graham pointed out last night, "Harper is growling at Knight the way Alexei used to growl at Harper."

Graham likes him because Knight will play chase or ball or fetch (kind of). Annie likes him because he tolerates it when she puts a makeshift leash (a headband attached to gold ribbon) and "walks" him.

Decked out

Graham and Annie received Christmas gifts from Meme & PawPaw today, and Graham's catching dreams came true.

Baseball fever

We had a really fun baseball get-together with Graham's friends & their siblings. For those of you who missed it, never fear, we will play again in the new year.

Take 1 small baseball diamond (Garden Acres park), add 5 eager boys (and assorted siblings), decorate with various helmets, gloves and protective gear, and pitch!

Graham, as you may know, can be a bit ... rigid, and it took a bit of coaxing to help him be flexible, since he had envisioned himself the catcher and wanted to squat directly behind the swing of the bat. Finally, a position near the batter was agreed upon & no one was injured.

Some of the dads took turn pitching, and boys were able to bat, run & field for several hours. Good preparation for Little League in the spring!

Bravo, GRRL!

St. Cloud, Minnesota has a new public library building, and it is gorgeous!
I'm proud to hail from a town that would create such a lovely structure dedicated to reading. It reminds me of the award-winning library in Fayetteville, Arkansas (just a bit, Becca!).

The Office shouted-out

Hey ... the church got a mention in this week's "The Office". It was a punchline, yes, but not unfunny.

Michael is staging an intervention with Meredith, and uses a checklist of questions to determine whether or not she is an alcoholic. He asks,
Do you use alcohol to alter your mood or change your feelings?
Do you use alcohol to celebrate holidays or mark special occasions?
Have you ever under the influence of alcohol questioned the teachings of the Mormon Church?

Uh, where did you get that list? asks Oscar.
From a website, it doesn't matter, stammers Michael.

Tardy Thanksgiving thanks-giving

Things I was grateful for during my Thanksgiving stay in Minnesota:

- that Graham & Annie were having fun to spare with Meme, PawPaw, MawMaw, Gammy, Texas, Uncle Alan & Aunt Jenny, Alana & Jason, Kyle & others back in Baytown

- that I could see Grandma Janell, my parents, the yodeling Youngquists, Elaine, the Laynes, the Langens & others

- that my mother made delicious vegetarian stuffing for me ... a favorite that I had missed in Texas since cornbread dressing rules the roost there. (Of course, I missed Jenny's delectable sweet potato casserole and Kathy's broccoli & rice casserole)

- that the human rubber band fun only led to a minor *concussion* for my mom, but lots of laughs at the same time. I need to get one of those for sure. I can just imagine the fun the YW would have in that contraption!

- that Judy wisely counseled me to take it one holiday at a time. I tend to think far ahead - too far ahead, sometimes - and felt deeply sad at the thought of divided holidays for my children and me stretching out over the next decade. It's one of the hardest aspects of all of this but Judy was right. This is now, that will be then

- that we had a Langen music night with young kids playing Suzuki pieces, Dennis on the clarinet, Hill girls singing ABBA, and Jesse & Tim blowing my socks off with some of their Langen Boys fiddle tunes. I cannot wait for their album to come out

- that the Thanksgiving feast place settings were so stunning & the sunroom such a perfect backdrop for the dinner. There was a sense of 'these are our roots' at the dinner, and it felt safe and right to be there with familiar faces ... people I have celebrated with since I was a young child


- that Grandma Janell makes "the best fruit pies around", and brought amazing family histories to give us, plus shared family photographs, many that I had never seen! She is a fantastic storyteller, and I loved learning more about the Ravstens

Extra snow pictures

I suppose it was Kyle who got me interested in visual texture in photographs. He used to take lots of pictures of patterns - peeling paint, lattice fences, wood planks, etc. I like to look for these interesting textures now too.

I liked the blanket of white snow on bright green grass.


I liked the starkness of this naked tree with a dusting of powder.


I also liked this pretty pink bloom - hearty from a post-Thanksgiving warm spell - surprised by snow.

Snow day

The best part about our snow day?

Watching Annie literally LEAP out of bed when she saw what was on the ground, pull on clothes as quickly as possible, run to the front closet and grab coat/scarf/mismatched gloves + a slice of pizza for sustenance. She was in snowy heaven. It was as though I filmed our usual morning/get out of bed routine & played it in fast forward.

The worst part about the snow day?

Graham was as sick as he's been in a long time, feverish, coughing, tired (turns out he had bronchitis & ended up missing 3 days of school ... shoulda been four but I sent him on Tuesday, not knowing he would feel so terrible), and he didn't get to enjoy it. He didn't go out to play or make a snowball. He didn't eat multiple "snow snacks" like Annie.He couldn't truly appreciate the MAGIC of the night. He just swallowed his Tylenol meltaways and took hot baths.

Here are some pictures of the snow snacks - yummy!


We're lucky since we're going to Minnesota in a little over a week. He'll have snow fun then. But there was something truly special about our Texas snow. Thank you, climate change. This is one changing weather pattern I can appreciate. I will feel nervous when polar bears on shrinking ice floes come sailing down Texas Avenue, but until then, well, come what may - it was beautiful.

Watching Annie frolic - yes, frolic! - on the sidewalk, filling ziploc bags with snow, chasing a confused Knight, filling the umbrella with flakes ... it brought joy to my heart. It felt holy, a synthesis of weather and season that warmed us just as much as it chilled us.

Parental counsel

I purchased a window cling for Annie - a little plastic Hannah Montana figure that sticks to the window. She had fun sticking it up and pulling it down, but when I saw her stretching it out, I told her not to do that, that the toy would break.

10 minutes later, she came into my room with a ripped Hannah Montana, the head neatly separated from the glittery body.

"Annie, I told you not to pull it. Why didn't you listen?" I asked.

"But Mom, I didn't know you were going to be right!"

Jane Austen sequels

Reading these sequels is one of my guilty pleasures. Heck, it's just one of my pleasures. Some of you may not have even realized that there is an entire industry dedicated to churning out Jane Austen sequels. Just check out this massive list of available titles on amazon.com. I've probably only read 5-6 of these, but several look pretty good!
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=jane+austen+sequels

If you have to ask why we need more of Fitzwilliam Darcy or Emma Woodhouse or Fanny Price or Marianne Dashwood or Anne Elliot, well, then you've never truly been in love with Mr. Knightley or laughed with Elizabeth Bennet.

That's not to say they are all worthy of the Austen connection. I've definitely read a few clunkers. And perhaps Being Elizabeth Bennet: Create Your Own Jane Austen Adventure goes too far. I'm not saying there should be so many of these, I just understand the deep love of the characters and the wish to continue with them.

[I wouldn't mind if someone kept going with Harry Potter, for example, even though I'm sure any sequels would be derivative and inferior. Still, I would read them because I love Harry, Ron, Hermione & Ginny so much.]

Mansfield Park Revisted by Joan Aiken was a lovely treat that I found at the library. It picks up at Mansfield Park after Fanny & Edmund are married, and follows Susan Price, Fanny's sister, as she cares for Lady Bertram and finds a suitor of her own. Aiken is a good writer and manages to stay true to the 'voice' of the time. (Some of the sequels are a bit anachronistic.) It was my airport read, and I managed to get through much of it while on a layover at DFW.

A movie based on a novel that doesn't disappoint!

I read this book last year & loved it.

I watched the movie version while on a plane from Texas to Minnesota & loved it. (Note: I enjoy watching films with safe air travel scenes while flying, since I am quite *nervous* in the air.)

What it takes

This article changed my life.

I read it back in Nov. 2006 & promptly changed the way I was teaching composition. For several years I made it required reading in my Intro to Comp class. I discussed it semester after semester, class after class, and never ceased to be amazed. That says something about Paul Tough, the author. I can't imagine too many other articles I've read holding up after dozens of discussions with college freshman. But this one got them, or many of them, every single time, and continued to excite me with each reading.

It's a brilliant piece - thought provoking, sad, somewhat hopeful, compelling, gripping - and it's all about the race/class gaps in American education, and 'what it takes' to fulfill the No Child Left Behind law.

Imagine my delight when I saw that Paul Tough's new book - expanding on the ideas of the article and profiling the Harlem Children's Zone - was on the new release shelf in the library. This is one of the books I look forward to reading this weekend!

Grading cave

I have so much to post about, especially Thanksgiving details, Christmas plans, thoughts at the end of the year, etc. etc.
[For a fun description of my Thanksgiving in Minnesota, see my sister's blog: theyodelingyoungquists.blogspot.com. Oh darn it - it's private. Hmm ... I'll have to 'borrow' everything she said!]

BUT ...

It's that Final Exam time of year.


I ended up not taking the research proposals I needed to grade up to Minnesota with me, partly to save my sanity, and mostly to save the $15 or $25 American Airlines would have charged for the bag. No thanks. I'm not paying for the privilege of grading. The money is supposed to flow the other way.

What that meant, however, is that this week became a grading cave.
This is what happens when I'm in a grading cave -
1) the dishes pile up
2) the beds go unmade (or the children make them & they look even worse)
3) I feel distracted much of the time & end up starting 5-6 library books while feeling guilty because I should be grading, but want to take a "quick" break
4) I get up really early (I chided myself one morning for sleeping in until 4:40 a.m. - huh?!?! That's not quite right.) and try to speed-grade before I have to rouse the darling kiddos
5) I find manila folders EVERYWHERE: under the rug, in the cat's paws, on the floor of the van, on the couch/table/desk/chair
6) my hair looks weird and I wear whatever doesn't need to be ironed

I really believe in the gospel principle of the Law of Opposition. Here's how it works with my grading cave. As much as I dread being "chained" to these essays, I rejoice when they are done. The degree of discomfort I experience while grading is countered by the degree of joy that comes when the last folder is returned.

Here's the other thing about grading - for me, it's the assigning of a score that causes problems. I am SO empathetic that I have a hard time being critical, of judging, of writing comments that might make students feel bad about themselves. At the same time, I am a total stickler for conciseness, precision, revision, et al. I can't stand sloppy, confusing, poorly proofed writing when my students should know better. So I have to counter my urge to point out EVERY error with my compassion for each of them as children of God.

That sounds high-minded. I don't mean it to be. I actually think it's not beneficial in my career, though I hope, hope, hope that my merciful nature = I shall also receive mercy.

It's my job to write comments & feedback that instructs and points out problem areas (and successful areas) that aren't unduly harsh. As I always say, or at least think, success breeds success, so I have to point some of the things students are doing well (which sometimes takes serious digging) AND I have to frame criticism impersonally, i.e. "This essay is a first draft - I cannot detect any revision - errors take away from the fine potential of the ideas" as opposed to "This sucks, big time!"

As a parent of a special needs child, I totally GET that not all students are as organized or 'with it' as we'd like. I'm supposed to help them get better. Easier said than done. I want to encourage - while being honest - instead of discouraging, which means they'll never want to write again.

I also want my grading to be fair & appropriate. You may laugh, but I usually pray before I grade so that I can be discerning.

The upside is that many students tell me they think I am fair and helpful. The downside is that it totally drains me.

But today is a great day. The manila folders have been returned. Final exams have started. Let the rejoicing & tidying begin! Tonight I am going to hang up my clothes, rent something from Blockbuster & enjoy those library books.

"Give me your tired ..."

A few weeks ago, I was tired to the bone. We arrived home, discovered that Ulrike had just given us a marvelous tall chair, and carried it into my bedroom. Once there, I climbed on the bed and went brain dead.

While I was napping a bit, Graham and Annie played in my room. They even took pictures of each other, as you can see.

I must have been drifting in and out of being awake, but I vaguely remember them saying, "Get a torch" and "No, I'll go first!"

When I awoke, they told me - proudly - that they had been playing Statue of Liberty with the tall chair and some princess tiaras, singing "The Great American Melting Pot" together (with its apropos chorus of "Lovely Lady Liberty ..."), and having a patriotic good time.

Wouldn't you know it, they played together beautifully and creatively ... and I slept through the whole thing ?!?!?

Coldplay kudos

I love this Coldplay album. Love it to the 10th degree. Sure, I may not be as "up" with new music as I used to be. I'm busy and my itunes doesn't work. But I don't need new music when I have this album. It is brilliant, mate, just brilliant. And it's not exactly old since it was released earlier this year.

How brilliant?

Brilliant enough for me, Graham and Annie to listen to it from Texas to Arkansas to Minnesota, then from Minnesota to Missouri (through Okalahoma/Hades) and back to Texas. And we loved it. We. All three of us.
Graham's favorite was Number 1 ("Life in Technicolor"). Annie liked Number 5, a twofer ("Lovers in Japan/Reign of Love"). I liked all of it, but especially Number 10, "Death and All of His Friends", the song I've embedded here. I like it because it provides closure thematically and musically, because the concept of the whole album ("Viva La Vida", life to death) really gels, because it has three beautifully different motifs, because it reminds me of World Party, a different British band, because Chris Martin's voice is ... yeah, brilliant.


It easily joins the ranks of some of my favorite all-time albums: Prince's Sign O' The Times; Jane Siberry's "When I Was a Boy"; Sarah McLachlan's "Fumbling Towards Ecstasy"; The Beatles' "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band"; The Sundays' "Reading, Writing and Arithmetic" ...

After I got the album this summer, I looked into seeing them in concert. They had a show scheduled in Houston and tix were around $125. Steep!
Still, I was sad last week when I happened to hear a local radio D.J. raving about the Coldplay show he had just attended - he said he would pay any price to see them since it was easily the best show he had ever attended.

Oh, $125 seemed like such a trifle in light of that praise. I'll have to content myself with another listen.

The Neediest Cases

I might have mentioned this series in a post last year, but it's worth another mention. Each year, the New York Times leads a fundraising drive for The Neediest Cases, a coalition of non-profits serving New Yorkers in need. Each day during the fundraising drive, I look forward to reading one of the profiles of someone helped by these charities. They are absolutely touching and heartbreaking, like tomorrow's story on a 37-year-old mother with stage 4 colon cancer.
A Dying Woman's Concerns Are For Her Two Children

Here's the explanation provided by the website about the history of the drive:

On Christmas day, 1911, Adolph S. Ochs, publisher of The New York Times, went out for a walk after a big turkey dinner, and encountered a shabbily dressed man on the street. The man said he had just been given Christmas dinner at a Y.M.C.A. but had nowhere to sleep. The publisher looked him over, decided he looked respectable and gave him a few dollars and his card. "If you’re looking for a job," he said, "come see me tomorrow."

The encounter left the publisher thinking about charity. Helping a stranger had given him a sense of satisfaction, and he wondered if one man’s feeling might be the basis for a city’s goodwill. The next year, he sent a reporter to several of the city’s private welfare agencies to collect stories about the poor. He had a plan: to publish stories about the Hundred Neediest Cases in New York. The appeal would be made not with a direct request for money but with the facts of their lives. These small chronicles, it turned out, sounded a powerful call.

The campaign began December 15, 1912. Soon other publishers in the United States and abroad adopted the idea that a newspaper could make a general appeal for the poor and thus help established welfare agencies solicit funds. Each year, more New York Times readers sent in more money. In 1912, 117 contributors sent in $3,630.88. In 2007-2008, 11,340 readers contributed $7.6 million. All told, the Fund has raised over $237 million in its 97 years.

The mechanics of the appeal have evolved over the years. In 1970, The Times stopped publishing the names of all the contributors. The campaign, no longer limited to a hundred specific cases, distributes its funds to seven participating social welfare agencies. They serve people of all ages and background and in every borough. But the appeal still carries the mark of its founder.

"It was his best-loved project," wrote L.H. Robbins in the Reader’s Digest in December 1937, two years after Adolph Ochs died. "He was quick with suggestions for making it forceful, he scanned every word before it reached print, zealous that no note of self-interest, false sentimentality or preaching should slip in."

The 2008-2009 campaign begins Sunday, Nov. 9, 2008 and will continue through Feb. 6, 2009. As always, The Times covers the campaign’s costs. No money is taken from the Fund for administration. Cases of notable relieved distress are the subject of daily articles in the newspaper and The Times online. The participating agencies are audited on a regular basis. They are:
BROOKLYN BUREAU OF COMMUNITY SERVICE
THE CATHOLIC CHARITIES OF THE ARCHDIOCESE OF NEW YORK
CATHOLIC CHARITIES, DIOCESE OF BROOKLYN AND QUEENS
THE CHILDREN'S AID SOCIETY
THE COMMUNITY SERVICE SOCIETY OF NEW YORK
THE FEDERATION OF PROTESTANT WELFARE AGENCIES, INC
UJA-FEDERATION OF NEW YORK

Lowbrow

My sister Courtney occasionally posts movie recommendations (and warnings, like "Made of Honor"). I don't think I've posted any reviews ... yet ... but I thought I'd admit to liking this formulaic, cliched, poorly acted, fun fest. Yes, I am talking about "Drillbit Taylor."

It's one part school bully, one part lovable nerd, one part Owen Wilson and three parts dumb. Does that add up?

In spite of the inanity, I was chuckling. A lot. The lead nerd actually does a pretty decent job. After his first (horrible) day at school, he tries to put on a happy face to his jock step-dad. "I made so many friends today, I can't even remember their names," he says really cheerfully.
"That's great!" says the step-dad. "Sounds like you're in it to win it!"
"I am," he says, shivering at the memory of receiving a wedgie from the bullies.

Later, the third nerd, a little boy with a high voice, comments on the disastrous rap-off between the bully and nerd #2 that ends with threats: "I guess what they say is true. Rap music does lead to violence."

I'm not recommending that anyone actually rent this thing. But if it ever comes on TBS and you have nothing else to do, it might be worth a few laughs.

Carrion humor

We saw a buzzard on a city street today, picking at a dead armadillo. I explained to Graham and Annie the vulture's role in the food chain. Graham thought for a moment, then asked, "Do vultures actually eat other vultures when those birds are dead?"

I'm guessing yes on that one!

A few moments later, Graham said, "I think there's a dessert with that name, a peanut butter Buzzard."

Annie and I both gagged, then she said, "No, it's a peanut butter Blizzard!"

Fox News

Foxnews.com is the ... worst. I'm not referring to their political coverage or their right wing P.O.V. No, I mean they are the worst about covering absurd, shocking, horrible stories, oddball pieces that never make the light of washingtonpost.com. Actually, it might be more appropriate to say they are the best at covering these stories. (Obviously, since I continue to read it on occasion.)

I was joking about this last week to my friend Jennifer & made up a 'fake' foxnews.com headline: "Boy fatally stabs snake in nursing home". Not true, I admit, but this is a list of stories on the website today. I don't think I'm that far off. I mean, dead from excessive deodorant use ???? Man shot by dog ???? The thing is, they aren't making these stories up, but they must employ a team of *researchers* who scour news sources for the disturbing-n-bizarre!

* Boy, 12, Dies From Excessive Deodorant Use
* Missing Illinois Student Found Dead in Fraternity Storage Closet
* New York Christmas Boat Parade Changes Name, Loses Fans
* Missing Teenage Girl Found in Illinois Teacher's Closet
* NYC Mom Sues Hospital After Losing Both Hands, Feet in Medical 'Mistake'
* WANTED: Randy Mark 'Mad' Yager for Murder, Arson, Robbery and More
* Report: French Nightclubs Burned Down in War Between Nudists, Swingers
* Oregon Man Shot by Dog During Hunting Trip
* Slain Florida Mom Dialed 911 From Car Trunk
* Coeds Take Off Underwear to Be 'Green'

Chess sets we like

Annie's pick: Kitty chess!
Graham's pick: Statue of Liberty chess! (Well, NYC chess ...)

Baseball

Graham and Annie (and moi!) love High School Musical, as you know. Graham's favorite song, as of right now, is "I Don't Dance", a baseball-themed dance fest from HSM2. In this song/dance, Ryan, the choreography king, tries to convince Chad, the basketball star, that Chad should participate in the summer talent show. Chad is reluctant; however, Ryan's amazing combo of dance moves and mad pitching skills wins him over in the end. It's sort of a dance-off, staged on a baseball diamond.

Last week, Graham watched this clip several times in a row, and Annie had had it!
"No more baseball song," she begged.

"But Annie," replied Graham, "if I'm going to play Little League in the spring, I need to learn all the moves."

I wonder if the Little League program in Bryan recommends HSM2 as good off-season training material. I would certainly want my players to be able to handspring across home plate! Watch the clip and judge for yourself :)

Kindergarten messenger

Annie, smiling widely: "Mom, mom - today I got to be the class messenger! I got to walk 2 kids to the office by myself."

Me: "Wow! What a big job."

Annie, whispering in my ear, one 'grown up' to another: "They both wet their pants."

Annie is a darling little sweetheart who loves being a 'big girl'. She longs to have responsibility and recognition, and loves to help at grown-up tasks. On Saturday, she wanted to show me that she could take out the trash by herself, and pulled up the full bag, cinched it and carried it outside. I thought that this was a most promising development!

On Sunday, after she spilled a cup of milk on the table (argh - my least favorite kid mishap!!!), she grabbed a freshly folded bath towel and mopped up the mess, without being asked.

(Of course, both of the kids have heard me scold about spilled milk before and know that they'd better hustle. I strongly disagree with the old adage 'Don't cry over spilled milk', because spilled milk starts to stink in less than a day. I can't stand the smell of rotting milk. Who can?)

Annie is also excited to do schoolwork and has started to sound out letters and recognize her sight words. She gets excited if there are homework or coloring sheets in her take-home folder, and enjoys craft projects very much. Please pass the scissors! Yesterday's folder contained a "Positive Pal" (a recognition certificate) since she had earned green circles (the highest) every day for the past six weeks - this means that she's well-behaved in class, a good thing, and she was beaming.

She's also a trooper, one who plays chess and baseball with Graham, and listens to music he likes much of the time. She wrestles him and tickles him with the energy of an 8 year old boy.

Of course, my sweet daughter is capable of powerful whining as well, and I've never met anyone who could pout more fervently :) ANY time we go to a store, she finds at least one "treasure" she absolutely cannot do without and begs for it. That's not to say she gets these special items, but she does not give up easily.

On a recent errand run, she was still begging & asking at the fifth stop, despite a lack of success at other stores. However, the only thing for sale that she could find at the locksmith's shop were pink flowered keys. Not a great selection for a diehard consumer! However, she still made a valiant attempt at persuasion - "Mom, I've never had a pink key before!!!"