A Little Announcement

... on behalf of my dear sister Sylvia, who has (you may have noticed) been missing from blogland for the past several months. I haven't heard from her much myself, what with her crazy schedule and my crazy everything, but...

She called tonight to announce the birth of the newest denizen of Neverland: a healthy baby boy delivered (finally!) by c-section, much to the relief and pride of all involved. And there was much rejoicing.

My So-Called Life

Got an email today from my long-lost friend MJ, who's currently in transit from Budapest to Bangkok; it made me smile. We went to spy school together ages ago when we were both young and ... not exactly naive, but much less experienced than we are now. And with less gray in our hair. (Sigh.)

MJ asked me to send the URL for my blog again, so I did, but then I realized it had been a while since I updated. Well, I thought, that will give her a chance to catch up on the last few major catastrophes in my life. But I couldn't do that to her. So here's a short update. Well, that was most of it, honestly. ;-)

In other news, I've got some new clothes! Well, OK, I got these clothes last fall from my dear sister Sylvia, in a care package she sent when my life was falling apart. Most of the clothes fit fine, but a few of them (mostly jeans) were just too tight. So I set them aside wistfully and had a great time wearing the other stuff. But just lately the other stuff (including things I've been wearing since before Pirate Boy was born) has gotten too big. As in, falling off me, big. And I'm plenty big myself. So I decided, what the heck. I got out the "small" stuff. Zipped up those jeans on the first try. That was a couple weeks back. Now the "small" jeans are getting big on me, too.

Can someone please tell me why? Bizarro world is my new life.

Which reminds me, the marriage counselor doesn't want to see both of us together anymore until we're "on the same page" about why we're going to therapy. Although I agree with her diagnosis, I'm not sure about her methods. Maybe a new counselor.

Tears Me Up

Heart breaking. But not in an entirely bad way.

Dark Day

I had a few things I was going to post about, but this day has been... well, weird. It's blizzarding here, which is always unnerving. And I've got migraines and other monthly yuckiness, but whatever. I was still recovering from getting almost no sleep last night, and waking up to find the boys had trashed the house with not just one but two science kits before 8 a.m., somehow.

But then I discovered that there's a hole in the world today. And it's anybody's guess what's going to fill it, besides violence and death. I mourn for the passing of a heroic and admirable woman. I hope you can rest in peace, Benazir. I weep for your country...

Does This Site Make Me Look Old?

A couple nights ago, there was a headline on MSN.com about older women getting breast enhancement surgery. OK, this is not interesting in itself, and I wouldn't even have seen it if I didn't have Hotmail to sign out of. But what leapt out at me was the headline and tagline they used for this article. To wit:

"Bigger Breasts for Boomers?
Women over 40 going in for enhancement..."

Um, excuse me? Let's have a quick history and pop culture lesson, shall we? A) "Boomer" = Baby boomer generation; i.e., the large number of children born to soldiers returning home from World War II (not, I repeat, NOT from Vietnam). B) WWII ran from 1939 (or 41 if you're American) to 1945-ish. So the boomers started being born around 1946. C) "Over 40" these days is someone who was born in 1966 or before. And D) in case anyone still hasn't figured out what the problem is:
1966
- 1946
-------
20 years (that is, a generation)
My *mom* is a Baby Boomer. And while, yes, she is "over 40," she's also over 60 (or will be in a couple weeks).

So what does that make me and other 40-ish types? Check it out on Wikipedia if you don't believe me. There are also other sources out there. Point is, I'm not hallucinating when I remember being in that generation that people still insist is in its 20s. Especially people at MSN. (A search on their site reveals that this article isn't an aberration; the mistake is chronic. I think I'll send them my resume; they seriously need an intelligent editor.)

Miner 49-er

My dad passed along this article today; being from that area, his family is passing around a lot of articles related to the mining situation this week. Apparently my cousin contacted a reporter and got some stuff into the paper. Kinda cool, but still sad.

By the Way

It's on my mind, although I haven't mentioned it: #1 Son is on his trip to China, or at least I presume so. (Miss Thing doesn't bother sending an email saying, "OK, we're leaving tomorrow" or anything. The only information we've got is what he told me after talking to her on the phone a couple weeks back. How any parent can be expected to live this way is beyond me.)

Now tell me, you parents out there (and even you non-parents with a bit of imagination): With the information that's been in the news lately, combined with the widespread pet sickness, would you feel comfortable about your kid traveling (and specifically eating) in China these days? Me neither.

Blah

No word yet on when The Man will get paid. (What? I didn't tell you the story about how the state is stealing our interest-- I mean, keeping its employees' money for an extra few weeks?) I unfortunately know how far off my payday is (at least another month). Sigh. I guess we won't get to buy this.

When in Pain

This article really made my day. I'm still in pain, but at least someone out there understands. Now if I only could afford all those lovely treatments and preventions. No? OK, pass me the drugs. And some for the kids, too.

Too Tired

CNN reports: Work is wearing people out lately more than ever before. Who knew? (I did.)

Materi i Deti

(For those of you who don't know, that's a pun on a famous Russian story; it's probably too obscure for everyone except Kory, but I needed to do it.)

Tomorrow (oh wait, it's today) is Punkin Boy's birthday. I love that it falls close to Mother's Day; I did that on purpose. This weekend we've got big plans for our big 4-year-old. The Man (TM) has to work in the evening and #1 Son had to go to Hell of course, but we're going to make it fun anyway.

I've already exchanged greetings from some of my friends and relations, including this little item from a former coworker who was like a mother to me:

...
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love-- sometimes totally unappreciated! ((Sometimes??))
...
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely. This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. To put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?

The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. When you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?

And then there was this, which I happened across just as I was about to log off tonight. A little girl who was born on the same day as Punkin Boy is NOT having a good birthday. And as for her parents... my heart aches for all of them. Keep them in your prayers, OK? Thanks.

Little By Little, We're Getting There

I haven't been around much lately because The Man (TM) has been gone a lot. The good news is that he's been working. Yes, as in at a job. He can't believe his luck to be chosen as a professional A/V geek for his school. OK, it doesn't pay hugely and it's not full-time, but it's a long-term income, and that's a major thing we've been lacking for, oh, the last 19 months or so. Yay, money!

With the kids home from school the past several days, I've had my hands full, and with TM gone so much, it's been kind of a challenge to survive each day. But I'm managing, which is only attributable to the power of prayer; I couldn't do it alone. Now TM is interviewing for a Web programmer job (also for the school), which also won't pay much but will give him experience, and with graduation only a year away (we HOPE), that will be key.

OK, now here's the news I've been brimming over with: I got a contract as a freelance writer, starting immediately! They're even going to pay me for my "audition" piece. Sweet! (Such a relief-- I was beginning to think I'd never work again, after several months without a contract.)

And best news of all, we got our date: May 26 at 3 in the afternoon, we become an eternal family. Go us!

News Flash

Due to the current diaper shortage (at our house), Punkin Boy has attained the glorious status of... (fanfare, please):

POTTY TRAINED BOY!

(I'll still call him Punkin, though.) Now back to your regularly scheduled program.

Read It and Eat It

I was interested to see this article on CNN.com today. My dear sister has had some problems with this program in the past, and her objections (as I recall) were similar to the ones stated at the end of the article. I don't have a problem just picking up one free take-out pizza (although they hate when you do that) but I'd like to be able to afford to make it a family outing. And there you go; the company succeeds in its aims.

I notice, rather sadly, that there were no statistics quoted in the article for how many coupons were actually redeemed from this program. I bet they could even give details about how much money each coupon transaction brought in. That data would surely be enlightening. Let's see, 22 million x 700 calories per pizza...

So, come on and weigh in: Where do you stand on the issue of bribing kids with fatty foods so they'll read? (Did I just give my position away? Nuts!)

[Edited: I checked Pizza Hut's nutritional info and was interested to see that I wasn't exaggerating much with my estimate. A plain pepperoni personal pizza has 640 calories and 29 grams of cheesy fat. Don't get me started about the 1530 mg of sodium; I think I'm gonna throw up. It's tasty all right, but... gack.]

Highway to Where?

This travel article is pretty good, but the headline is just wrong. I'm not saying anything against the town of Hana, because it's a lovely place. But the road that takes you up there... I would never ever call it a "Highway to Heaven." Quite the contrary. The result of a recent poll of people in this room (i.e., me and The Man) clearly shows the correct term would be something like "hellish." Granted, we experienced this road together, so we had the same trip to the Underworld, but think about this: other people who'd been there told us that driving a rental car up the road to Hana would void our rental agreement. That's not a good sign, in my book.

We didn't even intend to go to Hana on that trip, but I got mixed up and turned east when I should have gone west. By the time I realized what I'd done, there was no place to turn the car around. We drove that whole 52 miles up the winding narrow cliff road as the sun went down and rude mainlanders whizzed back at us (in many cases, cursing loudly and shaking their fists). I'd say it was the most nerve-wracking couple of hours I'd ever had, but the trip up was nothing compared to the trip down.

I wished we'd had the time (or resources) to stay the night, but our stuff was waiting for us across the island at the Royal Lahaina. Night had fallen and boy, we city folk know nothing about how dark night can be until we experience it in someplace as remote as this. I was terrified to try to drive that same road in the dark; at least on the way up, you're on the inside lane. One wrong move on the trip down, and you won't be returning that rental car-- ever. So we decided to try the road that led out the opposite side of Hana town. The map didn't say exactly what kind of road it was or what exactly it passed through, but we could tell it wasn't on a cliff.

No, it wasn't on a cliff. It went right out through the middle of a never-ending sugar cane field. In the absolute pitch black. In a Dodge Neon. Now, lest you think that's not too bad, and maybe even a little romantic, let me describe sugar-cane roads for you. If I just mention that they're rutted dirt roads that pass right through the middle of vast fields of cane, nothing but tall stalks for miles and miles, you just won't get it. I asked The Man (TM) for his opinion on them, and he shuddered. "Don't drive on them!" was all he could muster. They don't look as evil as they really are, jolting (as it seems) your entire vehicle to pieces no matter how slow you go, and never ever ending...

That was bad enough. But then this enormous beast came roaring at us out of nowhere. After the first second of terror, I realized that it wasn't a gigantic dragon with glowing eyes. In fact, it probably had a name like "Chevrolet" printed somewhere on it, but compared to our tiny rental, this monster truck was enormous. And it was going fast. Our headlights were on, so I'm sure it could see us; nothing else was lit for miles around. The road was narrow, so I pulled the little Neon as close to the side as I could and slowed almost to a stop before the beast attacked-- it did! It lunged at our little car, scraping the paint and taking our side mirror with it as it fled into the night.

I was still shaking as I pulled our little car into a restaurant parking lot in Lahaina. I had never been so glad to see asphalt and artificial illumination. Of course, the restaurant by this time was about to close, along with all other eateries on Maui, so we crawled back to our hotel, battered and traumatized, and went to sleep hungry. Remind me sometime, and I'll write about the rest of our miserable trip. 'Cause it didn't get any better from there. No, I don't remember Maui with fondness at all, and The Man-- he hates it. Highway to heaven indeed.

Unbelievable

Or is it? It seems almost too easy...

What do I mean? This guy. What the... well, hell?

Well, Schiess

Heilige Rechtschreibung! Who out there knew that the German speaking peoples of the world had totally revamped their rules for spelling their language ten years ago? And you didn't tell me? Granted, it didn't take total effect until last year, but Heilige Ludwig in Neuschwanstein, it's throwing me for a loop. That's what I get for reading Wikipedia.

Sorry. Back to your regularly scheduled whatever.

High in Education

Now I begin to understand why we (in the U.S.) fall so short on college graduates...your sanity or your education? And of course "involuntary withdrawals" is another one of those phrases that raises my hackles. Seriously, kicking people out of school because they have, say, a nervous breakdown? Who are these people and who left them in charge?

Which reminds me, I can almost see this scenario playing out in a "historically black college" with students claiming the new president wasn't "black enough" (almost), but it gives me the willies to think about. And let's not even approach the idea that the leader of, say, Bryn Mawr might not be "female enough" to suit the student body. Whose decision is this, anyway? And what happened to diversity?

Everyone's a Critic

I happened across this travel article on CNN.com today and was browsing through it 'cause boy, I need a vacation. It's all about beach resorts, and just looking at the pictures (instead of the snow on the ground outside) was very relaxing. As I reached the end of the "Pacific Coast" section, a comment caught my eye. It was about the Turtle Bay Resort (which was a Hilton when I spent my wedding night there). In the very first sentence, the writer says, "Turtle Bay Resort may underwhelm you as you enter the... uninspired grounds." I'm sorry, things may have changed since I was there last, but HUH? Take a look at the photos and see whether you're inspired or underwhelmed. I fully plan to be inspired as I go to bed now and reflect on the memories of eating guava cake for breakfast on the lanai with my sweetheart as I watched the waves break and felt the soft ocean breeze. I didn't pay any $900 a night, either. Who writes this stuff?