Odds and ends

The difference between me and my husband
B came yesterday and announced he'd been to IKEA. And he only bought three things: a curtain, curtain rod, and rod holders, all for his office. He spent a total of $40.

My eyes glazed over at the thought of his going without me.

Then I asked if he had felt the need to just buy lots of stuff, like fun kitchen tools, pillows, and new linens for the bed, and candles. His answer? "No."

There's something wrong with him.

Little Miss Observant
This morning I took Lily and our buddy W to preschool. Lily chattered the whole way, telling me stories about her Arielthelittlemermaid doll, who was swimming around the back seat and sitting in Campbell's car seat.

We got to school, unloaded the car, and went inside before Lily looked at me and asked, "Where's Campbell?"

It took her that long to notice that his seat, which she sits next to in the car, had been empty. I told her it was a good thing she wasn't in charge of watching him.

Campbell was home with B, by the way.

Bah humbug

I know there's a movement in the bloggy world to post something about love every Thursday, and given that today is Valentine's Day, I'm sure there will be lots of Love Thursday posts. But this isn't one of them.

A writer in today's paper referred to the day as one of "oppresive mandatory fun," and that description perfectly suits my attitude about the day. So many holidays seem to be artificial constructs developed by greeting card and party supply stores to get people to buy things. I know that Valentine's Day has a religious origin, but so do Halloween and St. Patrick's day, both of which have just turned into an excuse for grown-ups to get drunk and act like idiots. A religious origin doesn't seem to mean much these days.

I tell my husband and my kids that I love them many times a day. I find ways every day to show my love - tucking a surprise treat in Ella's snack bag, snuggling with Lily after Ella goes off to school, smothering Campbell with kisses, making coffee for my husband every morning even though I can't drink it. Why do I need a greeting card company to force me to show my love for my family?

So instead of being loving toward my husband and kids today, I end up being surly and grouchy. It happens every year. B and I swore off any big celebrations of the day years ago, and it's a good thing we did. We have a lousy track record with the holiday. Tonight, he's cooking dinner, provided he can come home from the office early enough. And honestly, that's enough for me. Having him cook dinner and put the kids to bed is the best gift he could possibly give me.

I do try to suck it up for the girls, though. They both woke up so excited about the day that they were singing. Ella's class is giving a concert of love songs for the other first grade classes, and I took Lily to school this morning even though I have to pick her up early for "ballelet" so that she could be there for at least part of her class party. They both picked out red dresses and skirts to wear, and Lily insisted on a pink bow in her hair. I, however, am wearing green.

For the sake of my own mood, I think I'll forgo reading any mushy Love Thursday posts today. They'll just make me feel worse.

I need a butler

I've been watching the TV movie Bernard and Doris, which is about Doris Duke and her odd relationship with her odd butler, Bernard Lafferty. Susan Sarandon and Ralph Fiennes play the leading characters. Sarandon is divine; I hope I can be half as fabulous as she is when I'm that age. Fiennes gives me the creepy-crawlies, and he always has. I almost didn't watch the movie because he's in it.

Anyway.

While watching the movie, I had a revelation: I need a butler. My life would be so much easier if I just had someone to run it for me. My butler would keep my schedule, make sure my laundry was back from the dry-cleaners, answer the phones, and just keep me pulled together, all the while being calm and polite and unobtrusive.

I have women friends who joke that they need wives for this reason, but really, I want a butler. I want it to be someone with whom I have no connection other than employee-employer and the only obligation I have to him is financial. And it has to be an Irishman, preferrably not a creepy one like Fiennes.

Really, I don't see why "stay at home moms" can't have a personal assistant of some sort. I've had assistants in my professional life who helped run things at the office. Heck, I've been an assistant. B has two assistants at his office - although I did threaten him with divorce if he ever sends one of his assistants to buy me a birthday, anniversary or Christmas gift on his behalf. So why can't I - a mother of three with a part-time freelance job - have one, too? Being a mother is more than a full-time job, and lord knows I could use some help.

B has said that if we ever have the money we'll hire someone to come in once a week to cook and do laundry so that I can spend more time on the kids and volunteering. I've argued against that idea for a long time, but now I think I can get behind it. I'll just make sure we hire me a butler.

Not one of "Those Moms"

Last Friday Ella's school celebrated the 100th Day of School. They had parties in the classrooms, and all the kids had to do a "100 Day" project. The projects had to be some sort of visual representation of 100 - stickers, baseball cards, pokemon cards, noodles, etc. Ella did a times table to 10x10, of which she was quite proud because she did all the multiplication on her own.

She brought the times table home Friday very upset, saying that everyone else in the class had their projects hung in the hallway, but she did't. I suggested that she talk to her teacher and ask about it, but Ella wouldn't do it.

This morning I ended up driving Ella to school because I slept through the alarm and we missed the carpool. When we arrived, the kids were all busy with their morning routine, and the teacher was in the corner sorting through homework. So I took a deep breath and asked her why Ella's project wasn't on display with the other kids'.

I smiled very big when I did it, and I prefaced my question by saying, "I don't want to be one of Those Moms." It turns out there was a legitimate explanation for Ella's project being sent home instead of put on display. The teacher, whom we adore, went home sick Friday at lunch time with what turned out to be strep. She was so dehydrated that she ended up in the hospital over the weekend on IV fluids. The sub who took over the class didn't realize that Ella's project was supposed to be put up instead of sent home.

In the end, I am so glad that I didn't go in with a chip on my shoulder, complaining that Ella wasn't being treated fairly. Instead, I hugged the teacher and told her she should call the next time something like that happens so that we can help in some way - really, we love this teacher; she is so tiny and cute that you want to put her in your pocket. When I left, she was kneeling next to Ella and explaining the mix up. Ella's project will be put on display this morning after math time.

When Ella started school, I promised myself that I wouldn't run interference or meddle in her school life too much. I think she needs to learn to deal with issues with her teachers and classmates on her own. But this is one time that I'm glad I ignored that promise. What started out as a simple misunderstanding could have turned into something much worse if I hadn't spoken up. Ella's feelings had been hurt, and nothing gets my dander up more than having one of my children upset.

But now everything is better, and Ella loves her teacher again.

Caffeine, wonderful caffeine

Last Thursday I called my neurologist's office to report that her new treatment method of not providing treatment for my migraines wasn't working. I talked with the nurse, who wasn't the regular nurse, and told her that I've been off caffeine for 30 days and following the doctor's recommendation of not using Imitrex more than one day out of seven and taking Advil when I couldn't take Imitrex. She said she'd talk to the doctor and call me back.

Twenty-four hours later she called back to give me the name and number of a different neurologist, one who specializes in pain management. At that point, I got a little hysterical and started ranting about how I didn't feel like Dr. R. was providing treatment and how I might as well be taking Jellybeans for the pain for all the good the Advil was doing me (thanks, Barb, for the analogy).

Well the nurse obviously told the doctor what I'd said, because fifteen minutes later, the doctor was on the phone to talk me down. It didn't go well.

She again asked if I'd consider daily preventive medicine, and I again explained that every time I've taken daily meds, my life has gotten worse, not better. She told me she was at a loss on how to treat my migraines any further and suggested I call the pain management doc and possibly find a new neurologist who was better versed in treating migraines. She offered to call in any and all refills for me - including Imitrex and my pain pills - while I was finding a new doc, and told me I was welcome to take the Imitrex and pain meds as much as needed. WTF? Why did she tell me not to take them, then?

So I think we've agreed to mutually fire each other. And I'll be looking for a new doc.

To "celebrate" I drank a real coke this morning, one with caffeine. I figured that if I can take the meds again, I can have caffeine. The funny thing is, as much as I've craved a real coke during the past month, it didn't taste as good as I expected it to, and I feel rather guilty about giving in on the no-caffeine gig. I've resolved yet again not to have any more caffeine, at least not until the end of lent. Or until my doc gives me permission to have it, whichever comes first.

Eight random things

I was tagged by CKHolder, so now I have to come up with eight random things about myself. Here they are; some are more random than others.

1. I'm left-handed and very proud of it. My father and his mother are also both left-handed.

2. No one spells my maiden name correctly - not even the passport office or the Social Security Administration or the bank. I have the same maiden name as a very famous American painter, and no one spells her name correctly, either.

3. For several years I was very into stamping and making cards. I haven't made a single card since Campbell was born. Now I'm thinking of liquidating my stamp collection and using the shelf space for my yarn stash, which has grown exponentially in the past six months.

4. I graduated from college in three years. I wasn't even old enough to go out for a drink to celebrate after my last final. Fortunately, my dad arrived with a bottle of champagne that we drank out of jelly jars.

5. I didn't walk at graduation. I went to the University of Flordia, and I knew maybe 3 of the 3,000 other graduates since I declined to enlist in the Greek system. I told my parents I wasn't going to walk, and they were relieved. Instead, I went to their house in Atlanta and had my wisdom teeth out.

6. I had surgery on my knee 17 years ago, and it was like being given a new knee. I now refer to that knee as my good one.

7. I have 7 pairs of running shoes in my closet.

8. I sucked my thumb until I was 8.

Now I'm supposed to tag two people, which always makes me nervous. I like being tagged, but what if the people I tag don't? Drunken Housewife and FishyGirl, you're up. Or not, if you don't like tags. It's up to you.

Ice princesses

The girls went to an ice skating birthday party on Monday and had the times of their lives. One of our local malls, which is soon going to be demolished to make way for the largest Mega Wallmart in the state, has an ice skating rink.

Taking the girls skating has been something I've meant to do for a long time, but the opportunity never really presented itself. I wasn't sure if I'd have to hold on to both of them at the same time, and then there was the question of what to do with Campbell while we skated. On Monday, though, the stars aligned. My mom was still in town, so she came with us and wrangled Campbell, while I skated with the girls.

I was amazed at how well they caught on and how quickly. Ella held my hand for about 5 minutes and then took off on her own with some of her friends. Lily held my hand for longer, but after about 20 minutes she'd let go and skate on her own for a bit. Both of them fell a few times - Lily took some hard tumbles - but they kept at it. I was so proud of their stick-to-it-ness.

The girls had so much fun that they burst into tears when it was time to leave to take my mom to the airport. I managed to calm them down by promising a return trip sometime soon. Of course, they've been asking ever since when we can go. Ella is even asking to have her birthday party there. And she wants skating lessons just like one of her friends. I think we may have started down a dangerous path.

One other dad and I were the only parents skating. He asked if I had learned to skate when I was a child and living up north. Oddly enough, I didn't learn to skate until we lived in Florida; there was a mall near my grandparents' house in Clearwater that had a skating rink. When we visited my grandparents, my sister and I would beg for a side trip to the mall for skating. Of course, my sister has some pod-child memory of how I swore I'd never skate again after seeing how much better she was at it that I. As if . . .

Warning, political discussion

So I'm going to state my political position publicly, which leaves me open to comments and criticism, but I don't care. Why now? Because after yesterday's primaries, it's obvious that for the first time since I moved to Texas, my vote in the state primary will actually mean something.

I've spent a long time thinking about whom I'll support, and it wasn't an easy decision. I'm going to vote for Obama. I like his message, and I like his enthusiasm. I think he'll be a good president. But mainly, I think he's the most electable. And dammit, we need to elect someone. Democrats have too great a history of snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, and I don't want to see it happen again this year.

I like Hillary Clinton. I think she's smart. I think she's hard-working. From everything I've read, she's done an excellent job as senator. But the problem is the right's rabid dislike of her. If she's the Democratic candidate, the members of the vast right-wing conspiracy will turn out full force to defeat her; they won't be voting for a Republican candidate, they'll be voting against Hillary. It'll make the voter turnout against the gay marriage ammendments in 2004 look like child's play. Because of the right's hatred of her, I don't think she'll be able to pull the swing voters necessary to win.

It's funny, I didn't understand the right's hatred of the Clintons until Bush had been in office about a year or so. Now I get it. If he were running again (god forbid), I'd vote for whomever the Dems ran against him in the hopes of getting rid of him. I suppose that's why I think Obama is the more electable candidate.

Obama has enough cross-over appeal to pull swing voters, and he's not threatening enough to pull the right wingers to the polls, especially if McCain is the Republican candidate. McCain is moderate enough that the religious right will probably stay home rather than vote for him. At least I hope that's the case.

Still, I'm a bit sad that I'm making this choice. Ella asked me the other night whether we've ever had a woman president, and when I said no, she asked why not. I didn't have a very good answer for her, especially when I started listing the countries that have had women leaders. With any luck, by the time my daughters are adults with daughters of their own, they'll be able to give a different answer than I did.

The one positive note in all of this is that for the first time in decades, the Democrats have two strong candidates to choose from. It's about time it happened.

Birthday Girl

It's hard to believe it's been five years already, and Lily has changed from this . . .

to this.

She's gone from being my roly-poly, blue-eyed baby, to being my big five-year-old girl. She seems to have shot up and leaned out almost over night. Her legs are now almost as long as Ella's are. Lily has also turned into a very determined little girl - keeping at things until she gets them right - like riding her bike or ice skating. She also loves dancing, and she twirls and leaps and spins through her day. Lily is also quite the little commedienne, but I don't know that she knows she's funny. She just has a way of saying things that cracks us all up. And unlike Ella, Lily still loves to snuggle in my lap on the sofa, and at my desk, and in my bed, and on the floor.

We had her party yesterday, and if Lily had been any more excited about it, her head would have exploded. We had a bike parade party up at the neighborhood elementary school. I set up the party on a few picnic tables and let the kids loose on the sidewalks and paths with their bikes. Based on the noise level, they loved every minute of it. There was even a playground for those who didn't want to ride their bikes. Everyone decorated their bikes with flags and balloons and beads, and everyone got a compass so they wouldn't get lost.

The best part of it all was that Lily was able to invite all of her friends since space wasn't an issue, and my house didn't get wrecked from having 20 kids plus their parents crowding in.

When Ella turned five, I dropped her off at preschool and drove home in tears. I didn't get the least bit misty about Lily's big birthday, but I have a feeling I'll sob when she goes off to kindergarten. I can still think of her as my baby girl even though she's five, but it'll be harder to still think of her that way when she's off at school. I'll have to come to grips with her growing up.

Sob.

A tale of two refrigerators

We got a new refrigerator yesterday. Actually, it's a new-to-us refrigerator. It came from the house one of B's clients just sold - long story. It's almost brand-new, just a year or two old, and it's much bigger than our old one. It's a side-by-side, with a water and ice dispenser in the door, which the kids think is way cool. I predict their water consumption is about to go up exponentially. And as soon as Campbell figures out how to push a chair over and get the water to come out, I predict I'll be cleaning a lot of puddles.

Our old refrigerator has been relegated to the garage, and B says he's turning it into a "kegerator" for his beer. I asked if he had suddenly reverted to college age.


I'm a bit sad to see it go, though. It was my very first brand-new refrigerator. Throughout college and grad school I lived in apartments and had to deal with whatever came with the living quarters, and they weren't always terrible.

The first house B and I rented together didn't have a refrigerator in the kitchen, but the owners told us there was one out in the back shed we could use. We dragged it in the house and cleaned out the rodent nests, and I spent two hours cleaning it with bleach and tooth brush to make it even close to usable. It was so old that the freezer was inside the refrigerator, and it needed to be defrosted at least once a month or we'd lose our frozen stuff inside a glacier.

We bought our first house right after we got married, and it came with an old refrigerator. It was in such bad shape that the bottom shelf was held up by the crisper drawers. Every time we opened on of the drawers, we ran the risk of the shelf's capsizing and dumping everything on the floor.

Then, 4th of July weekend of that year, we got a flyer about a big appliance sale at Home Depot and decided to take the leap and buy our very own refrigerator. It wasn't fancy, and it wasn't very expensive, but it had an ice maker and it was so clean and white. For the first few weeks, I hugged the new refrigerator every time I went in the kitchen.

But now, almost 11 years later, it sits in the garage, lonely and forlorn, destined to hold spare gallons of milk and cases of beer. I almost want to go out and hug it and promise that we won't forget about it.

Hmmm. Perhaps Ella comes by her obsession with not throwing away toys honestly.

Even though the new refrigerator is so much bigger and hold so much easier to store things in - it holds four gallons of milk with room to spare - I'm just not as excited about it as I was the other one. I feel no need to go hug it, even if it does have a water and ice dispenser on the front.