Tim, Tim, Tim

I've become a Bravo TV junkie. They have so many addictive reality-based shows. My favorites this summer were Flipping Out (Jeff's not OCD, he's just bossy and annoying), Welcome to the Parker (although this one went downhill after the ping-pong tournament), and Top Chef (my love of this show is only enhanced by Tony Bourdain's regular appearances). Because I've been watching lots of Bravo, I've seen lots of ads for Tim Gunn's Guide to Style, which premiered last week.

I love Tim Gunn. He's my favorite part of Project Runway (Laura was robbed!), so I was thrilled to hear that he was getting his own show.

I watched the first show, and it just didn't live up to my expectations. It was slow, dry, and not very inspiring. I did like the list of wardrobe essentials every woman should have, and I will use it when I start rebuilding my closet this fall. When I got pregnant with Campbell, I cleaned out my closet ruthlessly, and now that I'm almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight and size, I don't have much left to wear other than shorts and polo shirts. Not that I have lots of places to go that require more than shorts or polo shirts, but it would be nice to have options.

Anyway, I found the show odd. It's not like What Not to Wear, where they take clothing train wrecks and transform them. The girl this week just dressed a little frumpily, not terribly. And her after wardrobe, with the exception of the Catherine Malandrino dress, didn't wow me.

The oddest part of the evening was the woman's reaction to the new wedding ring she got from her husband. She gushed and cried and trembled and thanked her husband Augie over and over again. He stood there and took the credit even though he saw the ring for the first time when Tim gave it to him that afternoon. Augie didn't come up with the idea, didn't pick it out, and didn't pay for it, yet his wife acted like it was the best thing he'd ever done for her. Wha?

I'm hoping Tim hits his stride and the show improves with time. Tim's too talented and too much fun to watch for the show to disappear. But if it does, at least Tim's going to be back on Project Runway, which is coming back soon. Yay.

"Boy, you got a panty on your head."

Mom is indoctrinating the next generation of knitters. Yesterday she taught the girls to knit. Ella has taken to it completely. She's in the process of making a lumpy scarf for her American Girl Doll - she's extremely proud of it, and rightly so. My first scarf, which I made with my grandmother's help, looked much the same.

Mom can't wait to get home and tell the folks in her Thursday night knitting group about it.

She had less success with Lily, who at 4 has the attention span of a bug. Mostly Lily made knots out of her yarn. But she did get to go on a field trip to Hobby Lobby to buy new knitting needles and purple yarn for her project.

My sock is slowly growing, one row at a time. That's about all I can knit at a time before getting interupted by someone or something.

I drank the cool-aid

Thanks to my mother, Barb, and the Yarn Harlot, I've decided to try sock knitting. My grandmother taught me to knit when I was about Ella's age, and I messed around with it over the years, never doing anything serious. After Ella was born, I decided to take it up again, and I got really good at baby hats: I knit lots of baby hats. Then when Lily was born I ran out of time to knit baby hats, and packed up my knitting needles on the top shelf of the closet.

My mom has been knitting for ages, making the kids sweaters every year for Christmas. But this summer she decided to knit socks, and she sent me the first pair she knit. They're beautiful. I can't wait for the winter so that I can wear them.

Each time mom comes to town, we have to make a pilgrimage to Hill Country Weavers, a yarn/knitting store on South Congress. We went down yesterday, and I bought some number 2 double-point needles and a skein of sock yarn. Mom gave me a copy of her sock pattern, and I cast on. My goal is to get to the heel, which is where it gets complicated, while my mom is still here so that she can talk me through it.

Here's my first sock after about an hour's worth of knitting.

And here's the sock mom cast on yesterday morning. I have a long way to go.Both yarns are "self striping" so we won't know what the socks will look like until they're done. It's fun to watch the pattern appear as you work.

I've promised B, who's been begging for hand-knit socks for years, that once I get through my first "practice" pair, I'll knit some for him. Maybe I'll actually accomplish that in the next year or so. Every who knits socks says it's addictive. I'm not sure I believe it yet.

I have a new religion

I've found my saviour, and he (it?) is the Flying Spaghetti Monster. I'm not sure what it all means, but it exactly suits my silly sense of humor - especially the hate mail section from people who apparently have no sense of humor or irony or satire.

Take a look. In the meantime, I'm ordering myself a Pastafarian shirt.

A gran's job is never done

My mom is here, spoiling the kids rotten. Her reactions to the kids crack me. And they make me wonder where this woman was when I was growing up. I think mom has been replaced by a gran-robot or alien or something.

Yesterday Lily was in full melt-down mode, which was making my mom sort of frantic. First, the girls decided to have a tea party with the tea set Gran gave Ella for her birthday a few years ago. It has two place settings and a little china doll. As Ella was setting stuff out and bossing Lily about what plates and cups she could use, Lily started sobbing that she wanted a little "doll with braids" to have tea with. My response was to get another doll for Lily and sell it as a "special" doll, which it is. It was my doll when I was a child. Mom's response? She promised Lily she'd take her to the store where she got Ella's and see if she could find another tea set with a little doll. Lily learned a very fast lesson: crying works with Gran.

Thus began an afternoon of tears. I responded as I usually do - I sent Lily to her room to cry and told her she could come out when she was finished. Mom was convinced each time that Lily's heart was just breaking over whatever the issue was. Each time I pointed out that Lily stopped crying about a minute after she went in her room. I also pointed out that despite all the heart-breaking sobs, Lily's eyes were completely dry: not a tear in sight.

Campbell spent the morning here with Gran while I was at school with Lily, helping in her class. Even though I wasn't here to witness goings-on, I'm betting that whatever Campbell wanted, Campbell got. When I cleaned up Campbell's lunch plate, I found remnants of a cookie. And yesterday, Campbell got his third through fifth M&Ms, thanks to Gran.

Right now, Ella is taking up Gran's complete attention, having her help select a shell for her "me" bag for school. I keep thinking I should go rescue mom, but she seems to be having a great time, so I'm busy getting other things done. It's nice to have an extra pair of hands around the house, and an extra person to watch performances and discuss school and read books and procure snacks.

A gran's work of spoiling grandchildren is never done . . .

Birthday present revealed

Mom arrived today, and I broke down and gave her my present. I had it sitting on the dresser in Campbell's bedroom, which is where she sleeps. Here it is:

It's a collage by an artist named Claudine Hellmuth. I found out about her from Heidi, who had gotten a collage of her kids (and her dog and cat) for her husband for father's day. I fell in love with the picture and decided that one would be perfect for my mother's somethingth birthday.

It's an easy process. You fill out a request form and send Claudine photos that you want to use. She photocopies the faces and incorporates them into the collage. What you can't tell from the picture is that it has texture - Ella's belt is a ribbon, and the songs coming out of the birds' mouths are from musical scores. The grass is tissue paper over the canvas.

Heidi helped me pick out a frame and matting (with further help from this awesome guy at Jerry's Artarama), and I put everything together for her. The way the mats are cut you can see the rumpled edge of the canvas and the tissue paper and the wrinkles. It looks wonderful.

Fortunately, after all the buildup I've given her, mom loved the picture. I'm having a hard time with the idea that I have to let it go. I've gotten used to having it in my bedroom. Perhaps it's time I commission one for myself.

Lunch with first graders

This morning I forgot to send Ella with lunch money to add to her account, so I decided to surprise her by joining her for lunch and dropping off the money in person. I arrived at school, with Campbell in tow, about 10 minutes before the class left for lunch. I made sure to ask the teacher if it was ok that I was there. I don't know her well enough yet to know whether she allows drop-in visits, and I didn't want to get off on the wrong foot.

Fortunately, she said I had picked the perfect time to arrive because the kids were working on their daily writing workshop. I glanced at Ella's writing sheet and just about had a heart attack. The first word I saw was "bich." I was sure that she was writing about how her mother was a real "bich" sometimes. I took a deep breath and looked again and was relieved to read that instead she had written about her trip to the bich and the fun things she had done. Phew.

I spent the few minutes I was in the class sitting on the floor behind Ella's chair, just watching the goings-on. The teacher seems to run a very calm classroom, and the kids are getting the hang of the routine - most of them at least. One girl drifted over to me and said that she had run out of room on her writing sheet and asked what she should do. Instead of solving the problem for her, I asked what Ms. Sluyter would say to do. The girl thought for a moment and said that the teacher would want her to sit in her seat and raise her hand for help. I suggested that she do that and looked up to see Ms. Sluyter give me an approving nod of thanks. Double phew.

Last year when parents joined their kids for lunch they sat at a special "visitors' table." This year, however, parents and their kids sit at the regular lunch table with the rest of the class. I like this arrangement much better. I know most of the kids in Ella's class because they were all together last year, so it was fun to sit and catch up with them and hear about their summers. I got recaps on their trips to the beach; updates on the numbers of teeth lost, or not lost in one girl's case; and a run down on the new kids in the class. I did get to help one of Ella's classmates, who was sitting in her seat sobbing silently because her stomach hurt; I went and got the lunchroom lady, who escorted the poor girl to the office.

The kids all seemed so big now that they're not the littlest kids in the school. And their conversations are so funny. I didn't learn anything about what goes on in class, but I did get to hear about what's important in their lives - trips, teeth and new friends. Despite the lousy pizza - I ate mine to set a good example for Ella, who didn't fall for it - it was a great lunch.

Insomnia

Several times a year I go through horrible bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately, this is one of those times. I fall asleep without a problem; B will attest that I am dead to the world about 15 minutes after I go to bed - often with the light on and a book across my face.

My problem is staying asleep. This week I've been popping awake at 4 am like clockwork. I think it started when Campbell went through a phase where he woke up at 4 and whimpered for a few minutes. As soon as I went in and patted his back, he'd go right back to sleep. My body got used to waking up then, and I can't get it to stop.

During the time I'm awake I've written some amazing blog entries in my head that haven't made it onto the blog because I've forgotten about them in the morning. I've wandered the house, cleaning up toys. I've replied to work e-mails. I've done everything but fall back to sleep immediately.

It usually takes about an hour for me to settle back down and drift off. Unfortunately, Campbell likes to nurse at about 5:30, so I get woken up right after I've gone back to sleep. Then I have to get back up again at 6:45 to get my day started. As a result, I'm exhausted.

I've tried taking a benadryl to knock me out, but I just wake up even foggier and with a killer sinus headache that turns into a migraine, which is worse than being tired. After my bad experience with making phone calls I don't remember after taking ambien, I'm reluctant to try heavier sleep aids.

So I guess I'll ride it out and wait for this phase to pass. But while I'm waiting, don't be surprised if you get e-mails from me at odd hours.

Cartoon-free morning

We had gotten in the habit during the summer of watching cartoons in the morning while we got ready for the day. Lily's preschool and all of Ella's camps started at 9:00, so there wasn't the sense of urgency we have during the school year, when school starts at 7:40. The girls would get up, get breakfast - Ella can now make herself and her sister toast or eggo waffles - and then turn on Noggin or Nick, Jr. and hang out while I fed the baby and read the paper.

On Monday, they wanted to do the usual routine, but I put a stop to it. We don't have time on school days for them to become hypnotized by Dora or the Backyardigans, or SpongeBob (my personal favorite). I had protests and repeated requests on Monday and Tuesday, but on Wednesday they didn't even ask to watch t.v. while they were getting ready. Not even Lily, who got to watch cartoons during the spring after Ella left and before I took her to preschool. Thursday and Friday were the same.

This morning they both got up and made toast and started a joint art project with their new, huge art pad. It wasn't until 9:30, when I tried to turn on the news, that they asked to watch cartoons.

I let them watch Playhouse Disney and some god-awful show called Johnny and Sprites, which was so sweet that my teeth hurt, but they only lasted for about half an hour before they went back to drawing. Shortly after that, they asked to go outside to ride bikes and roller skate. It did my heart good to know that they aren't complete couch potatoes, despite a summer with lots of cartoons.

I think I'm going to continue the cartoon-free mornings on weekends if I can. It's nice to start the day without the extra noise and commotion.

A dramatic finish

Last night Heidi, Julia, Anne, and I ran the Fila Relays at Zilker Park. It was the first time I'd run the relay, and I am glad I did. It was a well organized, well run event and lots of fun, to boot.

We set up our little encampment right near the start/finish chute, so we had a great view of runners as they came through, and we were able to see everyone on our team come in for the hand off, which made it a lot of fun.

I ran the last leg, since no one else wanted to and I was the one who talked all the others into doing the relay. I headed out on my leg with a specific plan: start off slow and work into my pace. I was tested immediately. As I left the exchange area, a runner blew past me, and I was tempted to pick up the pace and stay with her. But I didn't; I stuck to my plan. I started off nice and slow, keeping my breathing under control. During this stretch, I noticed that the wind had picked up a bit. When I made the u-turn just before mile 1, I saw why it had gotten windy. You know the scene in Ghostbusters when the sky goes black over Manhattan? That's what Austin looked like. It was the blackest, darkest sky I've seen in a long, long time.

I had trouble in the second mile because the wind was picking up dust and grass from the soccer fields and blowing them right at the course. I had to put my glasses on just to protect my eyes.

At about the 1.5 mile mark I caught the girl who had bolted past me at the start, proof that my strategy was working. I ran with her and another man on the part of the course that went behind the Nature Center. I'm glad they were there. It was very dark because of the storm, and there weren't any lights on that stretch. If I had been out there alone I would have probably freaked out.

When we got to the top of the last hill on Barton Spring Road, I decided I needed to just pass the girl I'd been running with. So I downshifted and took off. It felt good to really pick up the pace and see what I could do. It was about this time that it started raining, giving me an extra incentive to run faster. I almost missed the turn into the finish and had to ask spectators if I was headed the right way. I had taken off my glasses and couldn't see well enough in the dark to follow the route, which wasn't marked clearly. I sprinted to the finish with Heidi and Julia cheering me on.

After I grabbed some Gatorade we headed for the car. The beer garden had closed down, and the band was hurriedly packing its equipment. Taco Deli was trying to give away its food, but no one was taking any. We splashed our way back across the soccer fields and the pedestrian bridge to the car, laughing pretty much the whole way. We were soaked, but no one seemed to care.

It was a great evening, partly because of the dramatic and wet ending. I won't forget the race, that's for sure.