Tue - August 1, 2006
Trip home
We were only actually home for 3 full days, but
it was chock full o'activities - between the reunion and our subsequent trip to
the Eastern Shore.
Dana on the new sailboat:
Kayaking was a highlight of the trip:
As were the docks/boats/etc.:
As for the 20th reunion. Well, I'm still trying to figure out if "Oh. My. God. You look exactly the same as you did in High School!!!!" is a compliment or not.
I don't think it is. While it is true that my basic identifiers have not changed in the last 20 years. (I'm the same exact height, weight, and hair length/color as in high school), one could argue that frankly, I didn't look all that great in high school.
Isn't it ever geek's dream to go back to their 20th high school reunion and hear, "Wow! You have changed so much! You look fantastic! I hardly recognized you!"
Not for me. I got "You look exactly the same as you did 20 years ago! I'd recognize you anywhere!" Over and over and over again.
I've also determined that I suck at reunions. We walked into the first event and I did not recognize one single person. Not one. (except for one of my best friends, who I saw a few months ago....I recognized him.) The rest of them? Honestly, I could have been at someone else's reunion and it would have made no difference. In my defense, I haven't set eyes on many of these people in 20 years. I went far away to college (Boston) and I've lived in Wisconsin for the last 11 years. Eventually, I started recognizing people. But it took a while....
However, everyone seemed to recognize me. I had whole conversations with people before I was able to say, "so, remind me who you are, again?"
All in all, it was very fun and great to reconnect with all those people who I had completely forgotten ever existed and to reconnect with some wonderful old friends. One of my very best friends came over with her 4 kids. Add my 2 to the mix and we had 6 kids running around my parents house. When you've moved around as much as I have, It's the coolest thing in the world to see your own kids making friends with your childhood friend's kids.
Dana on the new sailboat:
Kayaking was a highlight of the trip:
As were the docks/boats/etc.:
As for the 20th reunion. Well, I'm still trying to figure out if "Oh. My. God. You look exactly the same as you did in High School!!!!" is a compliment or not.
I don't think it is. While it is true that my basic identifiers have not changed in the last 20 years. (I'm the same exact height, weight, and hair length/color as in high school), one could argue that frankly, I didn't look all that great in high school.
Isn't it ever geek's dream to go back to their 20th high school reunion and hear, "Wow! You have changed so much! You look fantastic! I hardly recognized you!"
Not for me. I got "You look exactly the same as you did 20 years ago! I'd recognize you anywhere!" Over and over and over again.
I've also determined that I suck at reunions. We walked into the first event and I did not recognize one single person. Not one. (except for one of my best friends, who I saw a few months ago....I recognized him.) The rest of them? Honestly, I could have been at someone else's reunion and it would have made no difference. In my defense, I haven't set eyes on many of these people in 20 years. I went far away to college (Boston) and I've lived in Wisconsin for the last 11 years. Eventually, I started recognizing people. But it took a while....
However, everyone seemed to recognize me. I had whole conversations with people before I was able to say, "so, remind me who you are, again?"
All in all, it was very fun and great to reconnect with all those people who I had completely forgotten ever existed and to reconnect with some wonderful old friends. One of my very best friends came over with her 4 kids. Add my 2 to the mix and we had 6 kids running around my parents house. When you've moved around as much as I have, It's the coolest thing in the world to see your own kids making friends with your childhood friend's kids.
Posted at 09:59 PM
Wed - March 15, 2006
Pics from trip
Grandpa Jack and Davis at the beach near my parent's place at the Eastern Shore.
Searching for shells
Found one!
The kids loved the ledge at my parent's church in DC. Lots of jumping going on. (And yes, I requested that my son NOT wear his favorite "Bucky Badger" shirt to church. But under the 'pick your battles' category, this was one I chose not to pursue.) The minister is from Wisconsin, so at least he thought it was cute.
The travel gods were not smiling on us for this trip. We missed our connection on the way out due to thunderstorms and got to spend an extra 5-6 hours in Cincinnati....and as a bonus - an extra 90 minutes on the runway. But the kids thought it was all great fun. In general, I find that kids travel better than adults. They are much more apt to roll with the punches. They thought spending the whole afternoon in the Cincinnati airport was the best thing ever. And 90 minutes on the runway? What joy - we can read all our books three times instead of just twice!
I swear that Dana's reading skills leap-frogged during this trip. I blame travel-delay-induced-boredom-reading. Who needs Kindergarten? We should just hang out at airplane gates for hours at a time. You'd be surprised at all the reading you can get done.
Now back to reality. 8-10 inches of snow expected tonight and tomorrow. (And we were just dipping our toes in the Chesapeake Bay just days ago....)
Posted at 08:36 PM
Fri - March 10, 2006
Leaving on a Jet Plane
We are headed home for a little rest and
relaxation on our very first spring break as parents.
Because we are flying on a combination of frequent flyer miles and a generously donated grandparent ticket, Doug and I are on different flights. Guess who got the kids? Yep, that would be me. It's a northwest FF ticket, but we are flying on Delta. Through Cincinnati. And Delta, in their infinite airline wisdom, decided that Davis should be in row 28, Dana should be in row 26 and I should have some peace and quiet up in row 13.
I like this Delta philosophy. Should make flying with kids a breeze, no? Let someone else deal with them!
Actually, I've flown solo with the kids quite a few times and it isn't bad. The excitement of an airplane and a few bribes at the connection airport make the whole trip quite an adventure for them. They are typically on best behavior on airplane trips. (Did I mention the bribes?)
But if Delta doesn't put kids next to me, I'm thinking I"ll need to get some bribes for their seat-mates. What do you think? A Hershey's Kiss for taking Davis to the "airplane potty" seven times in a row? And perhaps a Matchbox Racecar for doing math workbooks with Dana...over and over and over and over and over again? Maybe something extra for all the bending over to find the pencil that she has dropped in between the seats over and over and over again?
Ah, the friendly skies.
Because we are flying on a combination of frequent flyer miles and a generously donated grandparent ticket, Doug and I are on different flights. Guess who got the kids? Yep, that would be me. It's a northwest FF ticket, but we are flying on Delta. Through Cincinnati. And Delta, in their infinite airline wisdom, decided that Davis should be in row 28, Dana should be in row 26 and I should have some peace and quiet up in row 13.
I like this Delta philosophy. Should make flying with kids a breeze, no? Let someone else deal with them!
Actually, I've flown solo with the kids quite a few times and it isn't bad. The excitement of an airplane and a few bribes at the connection airport make the whole trip quite an adventure for them. They are typically on best behavior on airplane trips. (Did I mention the bribes?)
But if Delta doesn't put kids next to me, I'm thinking I"ll need to get some bribes for their seat-mates. What do you think? A Hershey's Kiss for taking Davis to the "airplane potty" seven times in a row? And perhaps a Matchbox Racecar for doing math workbooks with Dana...over and over and over and over and over again? Maybe something extra for all the bending over to find the pencil that she has dropped in between the seats over and over and over again?
Ah, the friendly skies.
Posted at 02:02 PM Read More
Sat - January 21, 2006
Hawaii Photos
web page with many pics is
here:
http://homepage.mac.com/dnelson1822/PhotoAlbum72.html
(password is madison)
Waimea Falls Park:
It was a day of peacocks and waterfalls. Yes, that tiny photo of a head in the water swimming towards the waterfall is my crazy father. Dana, my mom and I decided to enjoy the beauty from our dry observance point. (Davis slept through the whole thing, poor guy.)
The kids loved the park, and especially the peacocks. (Although Davis wasn't so sure about the peacock part when one got very close to him.)
If you ask the kids what the very best part of the trip was...they'll mention seeing their grandparents and going to the beach. But after some thought, Dana will change her answer to "opening the can of nuts (gag gift) with Auntie Ingrid!" and Davis will say, "my shark!" (We went to an aquarium the day we left...he got a plastic shark...and has been obsessed with it ever since. I'm getting very used to showering with the shark every morning.)
http://homepage.mac.com/dnelson1822/PhotoAlbum72.html
(password is madison)
Waimea Falls Park:
It was a day of peacocks and waterfalls. Yes, that tiny photo of a head in the water swimming towards the waterfall is my crazy father. Dana, my mom and I decided to enjoy the beauty from our dry observance point. (Davis slept through the whole thing, poor guy.)
The kids loved the park, and especially the peacocks. (Although Davis wasn't so sure about the peacock part when one got very close to him.)
If you ask the kids what the very best part of the trip was...they'll mention seeing their grandparents and going to the beach. But after some thought, Dana will change her answer to "opening the can of nuts (gag gift) with Auntie Ingrid!" and Davis will say, "my shark!" (We went to an aquarium the day we left...he got a plastic shark...and has been obsessed with it ever since. I'm getting very used to showering with the shark every morning.)
Posted at 09:17 PM
Sun - January 15, 2006
Home again, home again
We had a blast in
Hawaii.
Davis' favorite part was the plane ride. What for most people is living hell (9 hours on a plane, interspersed with 6 hours in various airports for connections) was his favorite part of the trip.
We were staying in a fabulous ocean front house with easy access to some of the most beautiful beaches in the world....and "When can I get back on the airplane?" was his number one question.
We got back yesterday at noon. His first question upon waking this morning was, "Can we go on another airplane today?"
Davis' favorite part was the plane ride. What for most people is living hell (9 hours on a plane, interspersed with 6 hours in various airports for connections) was his favorite part of the trip.
We were staying in a fabulous ocean front house with easy access to some of the most beautiful beaches in the world....and "When can I get back on the airplane?" was his number one question.
We got back yesterday at noon. His first question upon waking this morning was, "Can we go on another airplane today?"
Posted at 02:44 PM
Fri - January 6, 2006
On our way....
We're off for a much-needed escape from reality.
Back in a week.....
Posted at 09:31 AM
Tue - September 27, 2005
The lengths I will go to to save $311
We are heading back to DC in a month to visit
friends and family.
Oh, and to run that silly marathon.
The kids and I made our flight reservations early. (30,000 people are doing the MCM this year - and flights were going quickly.) Because Dana needs to be back in school on Monday....and because Monday is the most fun holiday of the year to a 5 year old (Halloween), I put us on a flight back to DC early on Sunday night.
We just got Doug's flights - and if he came back on Monday, instead of Sunday...we could use my FF miles. I couldn't resist a "free" ticket....so I booked it yesterday.
I'm convinced that for regular folks like me - our FF miles will disappear as the airlines realize they really are bankrupt.
For "elite-platinum-world-class-fly-to-Asia-all-the-time" fliers like my husband - their miles will stay. I guarantee it. But for peons like me who a) only travel for vacations and b) only travel with small, loud, children.....our miles will disappear or become very hard to claim. How can they not? So - I wanted to use them.
Because of the principle of using the FF miles, my day on Sunday, October 30 will go something like this:
I will get up at about 6 am and head down to DC to wait in the "Athlete's Village" until my wave starts. (Big race - Two waves!).
I'll start running at about 8:45. With all the people there, it might be closer to 9 am before I'm actually *running*. I'll take a leisurely stroll through DC, Alexandria and Arlington for the next 4 1/2 hours. At mile 26.2, I will collapse into my husband's arms. Hopefully, this will occur sometime between 1:15 and 2:00 pm.
I'll rush home with the family and attempt to eat 2000 calories in about 20 minutes. Then, I'll take the fastest shower known to man, pack my suitcase and rush to National to make the 6 pm flight. With two tired, cranky children.
We'll get to Detroit at about 9 pm, and rush through to make our connection. I'll arrive back in Madison at about 10 pm. Alone. With two even more exhausted children. After running a marathon that morning.
Why do I do this? Sometimes I question my sanity. Doug - he is much smarter than I am. He will have a leisurely Sunday evening with my parents and fly back Monday morning. Because he gets upgraded to First Class the minute NW Airlines smells him, he will also probably have a leisurely flight.
I've started punching in his FF code whenever I call Northwest. It's amazing, the difference in customer service. They answer on the first ring. They find fares and flights that are not anywhere else. Even booked flights....magically, there is room. Flights that cost 40,000 miles on my account - only cost 25,000 miles on his account. Those really good bulkhead seats that are "blocked" when I call on my own accord, are immediately available if I call under his account.
The mile-rich just keep getting richer, I tell you.
So, that's why I had to use my miles. It's the principle.
Oh, and to run that silly marathon.
The kids and I made our flight reservations early. (30,000 people are doing the MCM this year - and flights were going quickly.) Because Dana needs to be back in school on Monday....and because Monday is the most fun holiday of the year to a 5 year old (Halloween), I put us on a flight back to DC early on Sunday night.
We just got Doug's flights - and if he came back on Monday, instead of Sunday...we could use my FF miles. I couldn't resist a "free" ticket....so I booked it yesterday.
I'm convinced that for regular folks like me - our FF miles will disappear as the airlines realize they really are bankrupt.
For "elite-platinum-world-class-fly-to-Asia-all-the-time" fliers like my husband - their miles will stay. I guarantee it. But for peons like me who a) only travel for vacations and b) only travel with small, loud, children.....our miles will disappear or become very hard to claim. How can they not? So - I wanted to use them.
Because of the principle of using the FF miles, my day on Sunday, October 30 will go something like this:
I will get up at about 6 am and head down to DC to wait in the "Athlete's Village" until my wave starts. (Big race - Two waves!).
I'll start running at about 8:45. With all the people there, it might be closer to 9 am before I'm actually *running*. I'll take a leisurely stroll through DC, Alexandria and Arlington for the next 4 1/2 hours. At mile 26.2, I will collapse into my husband's arms. Hopefully, this will occur sometime between 1:15 and 2:00 pm.
I'll rush home with the family and attempt to eat 2000 calories in about 20 minutes. Then, I'll take the fastest shower known to man, pack my suitcase and rush to National to make the 6 pm flight. With two tired, cranky children.
We'll get to Detroit at about 9 pm, and rush through to make our connection. I'll arrive back in Madison at about 10 pm. Alone. With two even more exhausted children. After running a marathon that morning.
Why do I do this? Sometimes I question my sanity. Doug - he is much smarter than I am. He will have a leisurely Sunday evening with my parents and fly back Monday morning. Because he gets upgraded to First Class the minute NW Airlines smells him, he will also probably have a leisurely flight.
I've started punching in his FF code whenever I call Northwest. It's amazing, the difference in customer service. They answer on the first ring. They find fares and flights that are not anywhere else. Even booked flights....magically, there is room. Flights that cost 40,000 miles on my account - only cost 25,000 miles on his account. Those really good bulkhead seats that are "blocked" when I call on my own accord, are immediately available if I call under his account.
The mile-rich just keep getting richer, I tell you.
So, that's why I had to use my miles. It's the principle.
Posted at 09:08 PM
Mon - June 13, 2005
Toujours Provence
I think I will just write about last week's
vacation indefinitely. That should make it sound like I have an interesting
life, and also keep me from writing about my desperate search for fall
childcare. I left the country for 9 short days, and they closed the preschool
for good on me. Miss one meeting and see what happens? That'll teach
me...
So, Provence. (I bet churches don't kick out preschools to build shiny new buildings in Provence. Hell, they don't even have any shiny new buildings in Provence.)
I think my favorite village was Roussillon . They must have a rule in Roussillon that you can only paint your shutters and doors yellow or blue. Or something like that. Anyway, every corner of Roussillon is breath-taking. The views, the architecture, the cobblestones. Everything. We'd just stop in our tracks to soak it all in. It was that beautiful.
We've destroyed so many of our breathtaking corners here in the US.
Life here seems much easier. Our roads are quite a bit nicer. And the indoor plumbing systems - those are more consistent here too. I do enjoy a reliable flush-able toilet - I'm the first to admit it. Our heating and cooling systems are much better. Our giant mega-stores are certainly more convenient than going to separate stores for clothing, bread, milk, and pharmacy items. (As Target's #1 customer in the midwest, I can attest to that.)
But convenience has a price, I think. The beauty of a Walmart parking lot rarely takes one's breath away.
Maybe I can just tape these to my rearview mirror and pretend:
So, Provence. (I bet churches don't kick out preschools to build shiny new buildings in Provence. Hell, they don't even have any shiny new buildings in Provence.)
I think my favorite village was Roussillon . They must have a rule in Roussillon that you can only paint your shutters and doors yellow or blue. Or something like that. Anyway, every corner of Roussillon is breath-taking. The views, the architecture, the cobblestones. Everything. We'd just stop in our tracks to soak it all in. It was that beautiful.
We've destroyed so many of our breathtaking corners here in the US.
Life here seems much easier. Our roads are quite a bit nicer. And the indoor plumbing systems - those are more consistent here too. I do enjoy a reliable flush-able toilet - I'm the first to admit it. Our heating and cooling systems are much better. Our giant mega-stores are certainly more convenient than going to separate stores for clothing, bread, milk, and pharmacy items. (As Target's #1 customer in the midwest, I can attest to that.)
But convenience has a price, I think. The beauty of a Walmart parking lot rarely takes one's breath away.
Maybe I can just tape these to my rearview mirror and pretend:
Posted at 06:15 PM
Sun - June 12, 2005
A Week in Provence
Simply amazing. The week was
amazing.
Other than the part where I proved to be the most unskilled cyclist ever to ride the hills of northern Provence. That part wasn't quite as amazing. I'm living proof that indoor spinning classes do not, in fact, prepare you for barreling down a mountain on a bicycle while French trucks and cars go whizzing past you at the speed of light.
Nowhere in my spinning class did I need to take my life in my hands. I never needed to pray that the convertible audi speeding by would be kind to the American novice cyclist slowly descending down the mountain. I never once stopped the spinning bike mid-class to scream at my husband, "I'm going to die on a mountain in France! They trucks are out to get me! The French want me dead - I can see it in their eyes as they drive past me!"
But I survived.
And the rest if it, the rest of it was amazing. Cycling with my husband through back country roads in Provence. Stopping to enjoy the view or explore some Roman ruins. The luxury hotels with all the wonderful amenities that come with such hotels. (One of the places we stayed came and lit candles in our room while we ate dinner. So romantic.) The 5 course meals. The wine. The meals. The pastries. The cheese. The cafe au lait. The wine. (need to mention the wine twice, it was that good.)
And Paris - if there is a better place to be with the one you love than Paris, I'd like to know about it.
And now, back to reality...
Other than the part where I proved to be the most unskilled cyclist ever to ride the hills of northern Provence. That part wasn't quite as amazing. I'm living proof that indoor spinning classes do not, in fact, prepare you for barreling down a mountain on a bicycle while French trucks and cars go whizzing past you at the speed of light.
Nowhere in my spinning class did I need to take my life in my hands. I never needed to pray that the convertible audi speeding by would be kind to the American novice cyclist slowly descending down the mountain. I never once stopped the spinning bike mid-class to scream at my husband, "I'm going to die on a mountain in France! They trucks are out to get me! The French want me dead - I can see it in their eyes as they drive past me!"
But I survived.
And the rest if it, the rest of it was amazing. Cycling with my husband through back country roads in Provence. Stopping to enjoy the view or explore some Roman ruins. The luxury hotels with all the wonderful amenities that come with such hotels. (One of the places we stayed came and lit candles in our room while we ate dinner. So romantic.) The 5 course meals. The wine. The meals. The pastries. The cheese. The cafe au lait. The wine. (need to mention the wine twice, it was that good.)
And Paris - if there is a better place to be with the one you love than Paris, I'd like to know about it.
And now, back to reality...
Posted at 02:17 PM
Fri - May 27, 2005
One more week
Only one more week of "Operation Prepare for
France"
Let's see, I still need to:
a) remember how to ride my bike
b) remember how to speak French
c) figure out this new-fangled Euro thing
d) convince the French to vote for the European constitution this weekend
Progress so far:
a) I went to a 5:45 am (brutal) spinning class this morning. And hopefully, I can ride my bike all weekend. Hopefully.
b) I've been listening to the french tapes, but the children are definitely picking up more French than I am. And their accent is better. Oh well.
c) Actually....let's be honest...the big secret behind my successful marriage is that I never touch the money. ever. It just works much better that way. So, the chances of me having to do any currency conversions or exchanges are slim. And that's a good thing.
So, that leaves us to d. I'm not surprised that the French are against the European Constitution. In fact, I'm surprised that the polls are currently so close. I can't remember exactly, but I think they were against Maastricht too, no? And look how well the Euro worked out. I haven't heard of any underground French Franc black market operations, anyway.
I think Europe needs to operate politically in the same manner they are operating monetarily. The world needs them to be a bigger political force. The European constitution is a step in that direction.
I'm guessing that view will not make me the most popular girl on my trip. Good thing I can't articulate it in French....
Let's see, I still need to:
a) remember how to ride my bike
b) remember how to speak French
c) figure out this new-fangled Euro thing
d) convince the French to vote for the European constitution this weekend
Progress so far:
a) I went to a 5:45 am (brutal) spinning class this morning. And hopefully, I can ride my bike all weekend. Hopefully.
b) I've been listening to the french tapes, but the children are definitely picking up more French than I am. And their accent is better. Oh well.
c) Actually....let's be honest...the big secret behind my successful marriage is that I never touch the money. ever. It just works much better that way. So, the chances of me having to do any currency conversions or exchanges are slim. And that's a good thing.
So, that leaves us to d. I'm not surprised that the French are against the European Constitution. In fact, I'm surprised that the polls are currently so close. I can't remember exactly, but I think they were against Maastricht too, no? And look how well the Euro worked out. I haven't heard of any underground French Franc black market operations, anyway.
I think Europe needs to operate politically in the same manner they are operating monetarily. The world needs them to be a bigger political force. The European constitution is a step in that direction.
I'm guessing that view will not make me the most popular girl on my trip. Good thing I can't articulate it in French....
Posted at 12:16 PM
Mon - May 23, 2005
Back from Beantown
Oh, I had the most incredible, fantastic weekend.
I should have done this years ago. It was so nice to be "Kristen" again - just
for a weekend - and not "D's mom" or "D's wife." But ironically, it did make me
come back and appreciate that mom/wife role all the more.
I do have a few questions for the gentleman who was sitting next to me on one of my flights and was talking on his cell phone. Evidently, if you are on a cell phone, you tend think you have a big bubble around you....but no, he had nosy me next to him...and I was listening. Here goes:
1) You kept saying, "You're my little love-monkey" - Were you really talking to a monkey?
2) And what was the monkey saying back to you when you answered, "Oh, baby, don't say that to me now."
3) The moans you emitted - where they because you were in pain? Or were you just really bored of waiting for the plane to take off? I was bored too, but I never thought to moan.
Of course, I didn't say any of that to him. But I really wanted to ask those questions. Too bad I didn't catch his cell phone number, I could have called him back today.
Anyway, I'm back and feel completely refreshed and happy. With my adorable kids and my amazingly wonderful husband who took good care of them all weekend long. Granted, he's never called me from a plane and called me his "love monkey," but I suppose you can't have everything, can you?
I do have a few questions for the gentleman who was sitting next to me on one of my flights and was talking on his cell phone. Evidently, if you are on a cell phone, you tend think you have a big bubble around you....but no, he had nosy me next to him...and I was listening. Here goes:
1) You kept saying, "You're my little love-monkey" - Were you really talking to a monkey?
2) And what was the monkey saying back to you when you answered, "Oh, baby, don't say that to me now."
3) The moans you emitted - where they because you were in pain? Or were you just really bored of waiting for the plane to take off? I was bored too, but I never thought to moan.
Of course, I didn't say any of that to him. But I really wanted to ask those questions. Too bad I didn't catch his cell phone number, I could have called him back today.
Anyway, I'm back and feel completely refreshed and happy. With my adorable kids and my amazingly wonderful husband who took good care of them all weekend long. Granted, he's never called me from a plane and called me his "love monkey," but I suppose you can't have everything, can you?
Posted at 09:22 PM
Wed - May 18, 2005
Leaving on a jet plane...
Tomorrow, I get on a plane and leave my family
for a long weekend in Boston. This will be my first plane ride alone in 6
years. I've never really left the kids before, except for one night for a work
thing...and I wasn't very far away for
that.
I'm meeting my best college friends for our 15th college reunion. 15 years! Where did they go? Seems like just yesterday we were graduating...and thinking those alumni visiting for reunion weekend just seemed so OLD.
I'm looking forward to meals without ketchup, beds without 4 people and a cat in them by morning, and perhaps a chance to read a book that is not about dinosaurs on the airplane.
It will be good to get away. I'm in over my head in the preschool stuff. For the record, I'm very grateful to the church - they supported this preschool for 34 years and were very wonderful and generous. The church is full of good people and they have every right to make the best financial decisions for their church. Today the mayor got involved and so did the downtown neighborhood association, and the local paper. Story should be in tomorrow's paper. I'm hoping, hoping, hoping that it will be a positive story and nothing negative on the church. We parents get so emotional when it comes to our children. It would just be too easy to vent to a reporter...
I'm meeting my best college friends for our 15th college reunion. 15 years! Where did they go? Seems like just yesterday we were graduating...and thinking those alumni visiting for reunion weekend just seemed so OLD.
I'm looking forward to meals without ketchup, beds without 4 people and a cat in them by morning, and perhaps a chance to read a book that is not about dinosaurs on the airplane.
It will be good to get away. I'm in over my head in the preschool stuff. For the record, I'm very grateful to the church - they supported this preschool for 34 years and were very wonderful and generous. The church is full of good people and they have every right to make the best financial decisions for their church. Today the mayor got involved and so did the downtown neighborhood association, and the local paper. Story should be in tomorrow's paper. I'm hoping, hoping, hoping that it will be a positive story and nothing negative on the church. We parents get so emotional when it comes to our children. It would just be too easy to vent to a reporter...
Posted at 09:37 PM Read More
Mon - May 9, 2005
Flying the Friendly Skies
Last time Doug was away, I decided to drive to
Chicago by myself with the kids. This time, I thought, "Hmmm, what insane thing
could I do to top that? I know! I'll fly to DC alone with both kids, after
being alone with them for 12 straight days! What
fun!"
Actually, it was fun. I have to say that my kids are awesome travelers. I think I could go anywhere with them. There were only two low spots on the trip down:
1) Evidently, someone in airport security thought that they should branch out into looking for MidWestern terrorists, in addition to the current search for Middle Eastern criminals. And evidently, I fit the bill. They emptied my ENTIRE DIAPER BAG and spread the contents out on a table right in front of everyone. EVERYTHING. I was so embarrassed. And then, the man (agent?) opened up my pack of birth control pills. Yes, opened them up. Right there. And said, "Heh heh heh, a little too late for these, huh?" I gave him my best "you are a big fat loser and I hope you don't get laid for 25 years" glare and waited patiently for him to stop pawing through my personal belongings.
2) Despite all my long discussions with D. about how we DO NOT POOP ON AIRPLANES, he decided to go for it, right as we were taxiing for takeoff from Detroit to DC. Of course, we taxied for a good 20 minutes. Finally I could get up and get to the airplane torture chamber masquerading as a bathroom. But as soon as we were in there, I realized that we were on an old plane. A very, very old plane. There were 3 ashtrays in the bathroom. But no changing table. No panel to lower down over the toilet. Nothing. It was an interesting diaper change, to say the least.
The trip was fantastic, Doug met us in DC and we had a wonderful time. We went to the Smithsonian to see the dinosaurs and the live bugs. (This is how you know I am truly a devoted mother: no art museum, no history museum....just bugs.) We went to see Ralph's World - and I even got to go up on stage with Ralph and be a choo-choo-train. (Again, the devoted mother thing.) We saw friends and family and had a fantastic visit.
And on the way home, Doug upgraded me to First Class. By myself. He sat back in coach with the kids. Pure heaven. That's the way to travel.
Back to reality now. Back to the house that was systematically destroyed after 12 days of single parenting. Who has time to mop floors when you have to read all the bedtime stories by yourself? Not me!
Actually, it was fun. I have to say that my kids are awesome travelers. I think I could go anywhere with them. There were only two low spots on the trip down:
1) Evidently, someone in airport security thought that they should branch out into looking for MidWestern terrorists, in addition to the current search for Middle Eastern criminals. And evidently, I fit the bill. They emptied my ENTIRE DIAPER BAG and spread the contents out on a table right in front of everyone. EVERYTHING. I was so embarrassed. And then, the man (agent?) opened up my pack of birth control pills. Yes, opened them up. Right there. And said, "Heh heh heh, a little too late for these, huh?" I gave him my best "you are a big fat loser and I hope you don't get laid for 25 years" glare and waited patiently for him to stop pawing through my personal belongings.
2) Despite all my long discussions with D. about how we DO NOT POOP ON AIRPLANES, he decided to go for it, right as we were taxiing for takeoff from Detroit to DC. Of course, we taxied for a good 20 minutes. Finally I could get up and get to the airplane torture chamber masquerading as a bathroom. But as soon as we were in there, I realized that we were on an old plane. A very, very old plane. There were 3 ashtrays in the bathroom. But no changing table. No panel to lower down over the toilet. Nothing. It was an interesting diaper change, to say the least.
The trip was fantastic, Doug met us in DC and we had a wonderful time. We went to the Smithsonian to see the dinosaurs and the live bugs. (This is how you know I am truly a devoted mother: no art museum, no history museum....just bugs.) We went to see Ralph's World - and I even got to go up on stage with Ralph and be a choo-choo-train. (Again, the devoted mother thing.) We saw friends and family and had a fantastic visit.
And on the way home, Doug upgraded me to First Class. By myself. He sat back in coach with the kids. Pure heaven. That's the way to travel.
Back to reality now. Back to the house that was systematically destroyed after 12 days of single parenting. Who has time to mop floors when you have to read all the bedtime stories by yourself? Not me!
Posted at 02:26 PM
Sun - April 17, 2005
My kind of town....
My wonderfully generous parents gave us a two
night stay at this hotel in Chicago. Doug was in California
last week, so I thought, "I know - I'll take the kids down to Chicago myself.
He can fly back into O'Hare and meet us the next day. How hard can it be to
travel alone with the kids?"
My optimism amuses me. I always think no matter what the task, I can do it. Somewhere along the line, I picked up a badly misplaced case of self-confidence.
Let's see:
1. I hate to drive. If I'm on a trip more than 30 minutes, I bring snacks. I hate driving. I'm a tense driver. And a bad driver.
2. I get lost in my own neighborhood. Sometimes on the way to work.
3. I'm waaaaay sleep-deprived right now. Between Doug's travel and the marathon training and a busy time at work, I'm spent.
So, what do I do? Pile the kids in the car on a Friday afternoon and go off on an adventure.
Dumb, dumb, me.
Granted, we had a BLAST. Navy Pier, Millennium Park, Chicago Children's Museum, American Girl Place: It was all great fun. But I suck at being a single parent at home. That is magnified to the nth degree when traveling.
First of all, I left Madison at 3:15 pm. I'd planned on leaving at noon, but just couldn't get my act together. If Doug had been home, he would have never left at 3:15 pm. He'd realize that would place us in Chicago for Friday night rush hour.
But me? I don't think of those things.
We rolled into the hotel at 8 pm. 5 hours to go 140 miles! Who knew? It took us 2 hours to get from the O'Hare exit to downtown. Such crazy. Luckily, the planes overhead and the trains going by amused the kids.
That, and singing. We sang every song we've ever learned. Twice.
The hotel was beautiful. But if you take a look at the website, you won't seen any children. It's hip and swank and modern and luxurious. They were wonderful to the kids - we were certainly the only family in the place. They assign you an "Experience Designer" when you check in. "Cool," I thought.
Well, our Experience Designer was about 26 years old and looked like he just stepped out of a Manhattan Penthouse. The first thing I asked him was "Where is the fastest, most kid-friendly, closest place I can feed these kids?" It was 8:15 pm by this point - past their bedtime and they were starving.
He sent me to an "must-see" Chicago Pizza establishment that was 12 blocks away and had a 45 minute wait and VERY RUDE wait staff. They did not want to see a frazzled woman with a double stroller and 2 kids.
At that point, I lost it. I was pushing the kids in a stroller down strange Chicago streets, it was dark, I had no idea where I was....(but there were a lot of adult bookstores around.) I sat on the curb, in tears, and called Doug in California. After making him feel sufficiently worried that his wife had finally, truly lost her mind, I saw salvation.
No, not the golden arches. (We saw those, but I won't eat there. Yes, not even in a strange city at 9pm at night. I was desperate...but not quite that desperate.)
We saw a Giant Frog. It was a RainForest Cafe and they were the nicest people in the world. They sat us immediately, and treated my tired, hungry children like royalty. They fed us and told us how to get back to our hotel.
We got back to the hotel at about 10:30 pm. Sister D crashed immediately into bed, and Son D saw his opportunity. A pajama party with mommy! What fun! He stayed up until 11:30 pm, squealing with delight about all the excitement of the day! Lucky me!
But if I ever complain about my children's behavior again, someone remind me about this day. Not one temper tantrum. Not one fight. They thought the whole thing was great fun. Even being stuck in traffic for 2 hours. They were completely happy to go with the flow and try new things and adjust their schedules.
Now, if *I* could just learn how to do that. Then we'd be set....
My optimism amuses me. I always think no matter what the task, I can do it. Somewhere along the line, I picked up a badly misplaced case of self-confidence.
Let's see:
1. I hate to drive. If I'm on a trip more than 30 minutes, I bring snacks. I hate driving. I'm a tense driver. And a bad driver.
2. I get lost in my own neighborhood. Sometimes on the way to work.
3. I'm waaaaay sleep-deprived right now. Between Doug's travel and the marathon training and a busy time at work, I'm spent.
So, what do I do? Pile the kids in the car on a Friday afternoon and go off on an adventure.
Dumb, dumb, me.
Granted, we had a BLAST. Navy Pier, Millennium Park, Chicago Children's Museum, American Girl Place: It was all great fun. But I suck at being a single parent at home. That is magnified to the nth degree when traveling.
First of all, I left Madison at 3:15 pm. I'd planned on leaving at noon, but just couldn't get my act together. If Doug had been home, he would have never left at 3:15 pm. He'd realize that would place us in Chicago for Friday night rush hour.
But me? I don't think of those things.
We rolled into the hotel at 8 pm. 5 hours to go 140 miles! Who knew? It took us 2 hours to get from the O'Hare exit to downtown. Such crazy. Luckily, the planes overhead and the trains going by amused the kids.
That, and singing. We sang every song we've ever learned. Twice.
The hotel was beautiful. But if you take a look at the website, you won't seen any children. It's hip and swank and modern and luxurious. They were wonderful to the kids - we were certainly the only family in the place. They assign you an "Experience Designer" when you check in. "Cool," I thought.
Well, our Experience Designer was about 26 years old and looked like he just stepped out of a Manhattan Penthouse. The first thing I asked him was "Where is the fastest, most kid-friendly, closest place I can feed these kids?" It was 8:15 pm by this point - past their bedtime and they were starving.
He sent me to an "must-see" Chicago Pizza establishment that was 12 blocks away and had a 45 minute wait and VERY RUDE wait staff. They did not want to see a frazzled woman with a double stroller and 2 kids.
At that point, I lost it. I was pushing the kids in a stroller down strange Chicago streets, it was dark, I had no idea where I was....(but there were a lot of adult bookstores around.) I sat on the curb, in tears, and called Doug in California. After making him feel sufficiently worried that his wife had finally, truly lost her mind, I saw salvation.
No, not the golden arches. (We saw those, but I won't eat there. Yes, not even in a strange city at 9pm at night. I was desperate...but not quite that desperate.)
We saw a Giant Frog. It was a RainForest Cafe and they were the nicest people in the world. They sat us immediately, and treated my tired, hungry children like royalty. They fed us and told us how to get back to our hotel.
We got back to the hotel at about 10:30 pm. Sister D crashed immediately into bed, and Son D saw his opportunity. A pajama party with mommy! What fun! He stayed up until 11:30 pm, squealing with delight about all the excitement of the day! Lucky me!
But if I ever complain about my children's behavior again, someone remind me about this day. Not one temper tantrum. Not one fight. They thought the whole thing was great fun. Even being stuck in traffic for 2 hours. They were completely happy to go with the flow and try new things and adjust their schedules.
Now, if *I* could just learn how to do that. Then we'd be set....
Posted at 06:53 PM
Sun - April 3, 2005
It's just like riding a bicycle...
I've heard it said that there are some things you
never forget how to do. Supposedly riding a bicycle is one of
them.
I'm here as living proof that riding a bicycle is NOT "just like riding a bicycle." After 6 years and 2 pregnancies, you do - in fact - forget how to ride a bicycle.
I'd be quite happy living in blissful ignorance for another few years. Except for one thing. In 2 months, I'm going to be here .
My husband's very generous employer is letting spouses go for free on any of their trips. The good news is you are going to France! For 10 days! The bad news is that you have to ride one of our bicycles for the whole time...
For my husband, cycling is like breathing. He doesn't remember life without a bicycle. He's never worked in any other industry. He loves everything about bicycles.
For me, well, it's more like putting on tight shorts with padding that make your butt look even bigger....sitting on a tiny little seat...and attempting to balance whilst moving forwards. It's just not that easy, folks.
He tries so hard not to laugh at me when I ask for a bike with a kickstand. Or if I could ride the mountains in France on a hybrid. (Really, would it be so hard? They look so much more sturdy to me.)
So, for my first ride in 6 years, I picked a more suitable training partner:
She was just my speed. Because of her father's vocation, she has the most wired bike in the planet:
I don't have a computer on my bike, so she kept yelling out to me: "Mama, we're going 4! Now we're going 5! Mama, hang on, we're going 6! We're really going 6!"
Maybe next time, I'll even make it out of the neighborhood. Maybe. As for D., she's promised that "Next time, we'll get up to 7, Mama, I know we can do it."
I'm here as living proof that riding a bicycle is NOT "just like riding a bicycle." After 6 years and 2 pregnancies, you do - in fact - forget how to ride a bicycle.
I'd be quite happy living in blissful ignorance for another few years. Except for one thing. In 2 months, I'm going to be here .
My husband's very generous employer is letting spouses go for free on any of their trips. The good news is you are going to France! For 10 days! The bad news is that you have to ride one of our bicycles for the whole time...
For my husband, cycling is like breathing. He doesn't remember life without a bicycle. He's never worked in any other industry. He loves everything about bicycles.
For me, well, it's more like putting on tight shorts with padding that make your butt look even bigger....sitting on a tiny little seat...and attempting to balance whilst moving forwards. It's just not that easy, folks.
He tries so hard not to laugh at me when I ask for a bike with a kickstand. Or if I could ride the mountains in France on a hybrid. (Really, would it be so hard? They look so much more sturdy to me.)
So, for my first ride in 6 years, I picked a more suitable training partner:
She was just my speed. Because of her father's vocation, she has the most wired bike in the planet:
I don't have a computer on my bike, so she kept yelling out to me: "Mama, we're going 4! Now we're going 5! Mama, hang on, we're going 6! We're really going 6!"
Maybe next time, I'll even make it out of the neighborhood. Maybe. As for D., she's promised that "Next time, we'll get up to 7, Mama, I know we can do it."
Posted at 10:11 PM
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Kristen's blog on family life in WI with her 3 D's. (Daddy D, Daughter D and Son D) What can we say? We liked the letter.
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Published On: Aug 01, 2006 09:59 PM
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Published On: Aug 01, 2006 09:59 PM