January 2007 Archives

Thanks to Tastespotting for the link.

Bill and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day. We both agree it's a Hallmark holiday. Despite that, each year we do a little something for each other, even if it's just saying "Happy Valentine's Day!" followed by lots of making out. Did I just write that?

Anyway, I know we don't typically buy gifts for one another, and I'm not usually the type to leave hints or anything, but for this year I would really really love to find this little teacup in one of our cabinets:

I can't imagine waking up to a cup of tea (or coffee) and not smiling as soon as I saw this little cup.

ANP, I think it would be a nice addition to your collection. Don't save it for a rainy day, either.

Speak up. Say no. Be heard.

I'm a YES man. Or woman. I find it difficult to say no to anyone. Usually, it's because it really isn't that difficult for me to do whatever the person is asking. What's a little discomfort to help someone?

I used to be so shy in elementary and middle school that I would blush horribly whenever the teacher called on me in class. I seeked attention but I didn't want to put myself out there for fear of being ridiculed. I wanted the popular people to notice me. Want me to help you cheat on that test? Sure! You're talking to me!

Pathetic? Yes.

As I got older, I became a little less pathetic, but I still remained the "easy-going" person who would do anything you asked as long as I was able to. To some I might have been a pushover, but since it was my choice, and I truly believed I was doing good by helping, I didn't mind.

Now that I'm approaching 30, I feel a sudden influx of confidence in myself and what I do and say. I'm starting to feel just fine with saying no to something that I don't feel comfortable doing, or just don't want to do. I think, and hope, that I'll still be a generous person. I don't think that part of me is going to change (I hope not) but I do realize that I need to put not only my own, but my family's best interests at heart. And if that means I'm not able to do something that day -- attend ANOTHER birthday party or watch someone's kids or whatever -- I won't feel guilty. I'm fine with knowing that I won't be creating a difficult day for the ones I love most dearly. And that's all that matters to me right now. If I'm going to sacrifice myself for anyone, I want it to be for Bill and the girls first and foremost.

Who needs numbers when you've got this kind of visual answer the ever present question of "How much do I weigh?"

Maddie is almost, pretty much potty-trained. Halleluah! Seriously, this has been a 1+ year long struggle. Potty training, by far, has been the most challenging act of parenting I've experienced. Even more so than getting your child to sleep through the night. You know that will happen eventually. But with potty training, well, you hope it will happen eventually, but you also imagine yourself to be that one parent whose kid is still in diapers in kindergarten. And I did everything by the book with Maddie, as well as some other methods, but in the end it all ended up to be a matter of will.

Three weeks ago Maddie's best friend Grace came over to play. Maddie saw her go potty and immediately, from that moment on, started going potty herself, by herself, without any prompting and without almost no accidents. She had known all along, but she wanted to do it on her own schedule. How does that bode for her teenage years?

While we're on the Pee and Poo subject, take a look at this. Aren't these the toys you've always wanted?

I was about to put the baby swing in storage when the girls discovered it.

- Heat in our house. Our heating unit broke down on Wednesday, but they couldn't get the parts in until Friday so we braved two nights and three days with no heat. It was kind of fun our first day, hanging out at home bundled up, but then the next day it wasn't so fun anymore. A space heater saved us. The worst part is that we had to stay home because the repairman was due to come on Thursday, and instead came on Friday.

- Getting to sit in on Maddie's ballet class last week. She was adorable. It was very different from last season, only 6 months ago. She has more attention span and actually listens to her teacher now. (Before she spent the entire class fluttering around like a butterfly.)

- Josie's daily comedy. Sometimes it's intended, and sometimes it just happens naturally.

- Watching the girls interact with one another. When the HVAC repair man was here on Friday, he commented that he had two girls as well, a 5 year old and a 2 month old. A little later he asked if the girls always played together and amused themselves. I had never thought about it that way before, but it is something to be thankful for. They really are best friends and love playing together. It reassures that having them so close together was a good thing afterall. Sometimes I wonder if we if their proximity in age denies them enough attention from us, but now I appreciate the attention they have for one another.

- Again, my new coffeemaker from Bill for Christmas. It really has become a staple of my day. And it, indeed, is the reason for me writing blog posts at 2am.

- The fishtank in the girls' room. They absolutely love it. Before kids, Bill and I had at least two tanks in our house. Now we have one again and shopping for fish with the girls was so much fun itself. We're still in the process of naming each of them. Beauty (after the princess), Murray (Maddie's favorite Wiggle), Nemo (Josie's choice), Chuck & Norris (Bill's ideas)

Two days ago our heating unit started sounding kinda funny. Funny, as in, thump thump thump. We called the repair place and they said they couldn't get out until today. Yesterday afternoon the thing broke completely. We called again and they sent a guy over who gave us the wonderful news:

The Good: The unit isn't completely shot. We just need a new motor and wheel.
The Bad: We also need a new thermostat since our original 1970s one is probably what caused this problem in the first place.
The Ugly: All of this is going to cost about $1000+

All of this, right before we get our tax return. We have big plans for that return this year, but it looks like home repairs will be eating up most of it again for the 3rd year in a row.

Wanna know something even better? Our dishwasher just died as well. I spent the last 45 minutes washing all of our dishes by hand (ok, so we were a little lazy and had a sink full of dishes as well as a full dishwasher.) They won't be out to take a look at it until next Tuesday. I'm not sure if I can go that long without a dishwasher. I haven't lived in a place without one in almost 10 years.

Yes, I'm a whiny baby.

The cute little toddler I used to babysit when I was in middle school is now a sophomore in college with her own blog. Reading it was very weird. I haven't seen their family since they moved away when she was three. I still imagined her to be the same little girl. I feel old.

I typed a really really wonderful post on this yesterday. Hotlinks and everything. Then Movable Type went kaplut! and I lost everything. It's taken me until now to get the courage to type the post again. I'm seriously feeling some aggro towards MT right now.

Via Deb at Create a Connection:

I grew up in Crown Point, Indiana, about 40 minutes from Chicago.

1. Your visitor wants to see something historical. Where would you take her and why?
I'd take her to the Lake County Courthouse in Crown Point. In the 20s a notorious mobster, John Dillinger, escaped the courthouse jail by carving a gun out of a bar of soap and coloring it with black shoe polish. (I never said the residents of Crown Point were very smart.) The courthouse was also known for granting marriage licenses without a waiting period. Throughout the 20s and 30s various famous people got married there: Valentino, etc.

2. She wants to see something hysterical...well, mildly amusing anyway. She'd even go for cute, quirky, odd, or unique. Where would you take her and why?
We'd visit the giant rootbeer mug in Valparaiso, a few minutes from Crown Point. It's, basically, a giant root beer mug that stands alone in a parking lot near a bank. It used to stand next to an old drive-up diner, Hannon's Root Beer, which has since been torn down. It was the kind of place where the servers would come up to your car on rollerskates. We ate there a a lot when I was a kid. Their rootbeer floats were the best. It was owned by one of my third grade teachers. Since seeing your teacher outside of school was always an amazement when I was younger, I always thought it was an adventure to try and see if she was at the diner when we visited.

3. She wants to take some beautiful and/or interesting photos to fill her albums when she gets home. Where would you take her?
Definitely the Indiana Dunes! I spent a lot of time there in high school and college. You can hike up these gigantic dunes and then roll all the way down. There are also various trails. It's right on the shore of Lake Michigan, which, if you ignore what you've heard is in the water, is actually quite beautiful. The lake's so big that you can't see across it and I always imagined it was the ocean (what's a Midwestern girl to do?) If you stand on the shore and look to your left you'll see the Chicago skyline right on the water. To your right is, well, a nuclear power plant, but continue looking to your left and forward and you'll see the beauty. Lots of time was spent hiking up Mt. Baldy or sneaking out at night with friends so we could see the skyline of Chicago at night.

The amazing thing about the dunes is that they are constantly moving. I was always amazed by the houses with prime shoreline property that were either, being swallowed by the dunes or falling into the lake.

Also, the wildlife is amazing. Once I was hiking with some friends. We turned a corner in one of the valleys. All of a sudden, we were surrounded by hundreds of butterflies rising into the air. It sounds like I'm exaggerating, but I'm not. To this day it is still one of the most beautiful sites and experiences I've ever had.

Nearby are natural prairie lands which are actually becoming endangered in the US. There are few natural prairies left. One of my internships in college was doing research to help restore the ones in Northern Indiana. For one summer I spent my weekends going out to count and tag the wildlife in an effort to measure how the local land development was affecting these protected areas. Exciting, eh?

4. She'd like to buy a souvenir that will remind her of your area every time she sees it. What would you suggest and where would you go to get it?
We'd get a South Shore Line poster from the Indiana Dunes Preservation Society. During the early 1900s there was a move towards tourism in Northwest Indiana. Artists were commissioned to create prints depicting various stops on the South Shore Line, the railroad that runs from Chicago to South Bend. It's now a major line for commuters to Chicago. The posters are gorgeous and some are in the art deco style of the period. This one hangs in our living room. Bill is from the South Bend area, and Crown Point is one of the stops on the way to Chicago, so the poster represents the connection between where each of us grew up. Also, this particular one features Notre Dame football, one of Bill's favorites.

5. Wow, it's been a long day and you're both ready for a snack, or maybe even a meal. Where would you take her to really get the flavor of your area?
Broadway Cafe in Valparaiso! It's one of those pseudo-50s diners where the menu is 10 pages long and they serve everything from American, Italian, Mexican, Greek, Polish, German, and gigantic cakes and sundaes. It represents the area well: Northwest Indiana was a major area for immigrants to move to because of the available work in the steel mills. Many a night was spent there having a piece of pie and an endless cup of coffee. The waitresses didn't mind if you stayed all night just talking and taking up space.

You're actually becoming a good cook!

I might sound snarky, but this compliment really did mean a lot to me.

Occasionally I want to feature interviews with some of my fellow bloggers. My first interview features my friend, Anittah. Anittah and I went to high school together. It was a residential high school and we lived either next door or across the hall from one another both years. She was the perfect antithesis of me: tall, outgoing, athletic, confident. To top it off, she's also beautiful and an excellent jello wrestler. Her blog is called xoxoANP.

Why did you start your blog?

A deep need for external validation. Also, I like to write. At the
risk of seeming like a black turtleneck wearing jackalack, Nietzsche
once wrote, "Writing for me is an embarrassing need." When I read
that, I thought, "True dat."

What's your favorite thing about blogging? Least favorite?

I like that it allows me to express a smidge of creativity in fairly
easy way, and even while I am sitting at my desk at work (until they
firewall it of course; knock on wood). It's also fun to see the
different search terms that people punch into Google to find my
website, and it's great to read the comments. It's nice to know that
some of the wacky idears bouncin' around my brain make others think.
This, I think, is the most rewarding part of blogging. To know that
others are out there listening. And maybe -- maybe! -- being exposed
to a POV that they hadn't yet considered.

My least favorite part is that sometimes I worry that it makes me seem
a bit needy. It's weird to get comments from people that I no longer
wish in my life. And I hate the idea of people assuming that they
know who I am simply because they've scanned a few entries of my blog.
But, I guess this is all because I'm a touch self-obsessed. Duh, I
blog. ;)

The good thing is that when I say stuff like, "Oh this is totally
blogworthy!" I'm saying it sarcastically. There was a point in my
life when I would have actually meant that, and I would have sought
out experiences no matter how unhealthy simply because it would make
for a good story. (Eek!)

How has your blog inspired you?

Since I've been doing it more frequently (I started in 2000 but have
really hit my stride when I finally moved to WordPress and hosted it
myself last fall) I've decided to get more serious about my writing.
(Or maybe I'm confusing cause n correlation; hmmmm.) But I've also
harnessed some of the power that comes from being candid and sincere
with the world. I truly believe, possibly narcissistically, that
people in my life who read my blog and are ready to hear some of the
deeper thoughts that I drop are mulling it over in the back of their
minds, whether it's me sharing my experiences cutting emotional cords
with ex-lovers, or me sharing one-off thoughts about experiences as an
outsider.

This sense that others are watching and listening has made me want to
live my life that much more honestly, to be unafraid of being
vulnerable. So that perhaps I can, in turn, inspire others to risk
doing the same.

What are your favorite blogs to read?

I only read the blogs of people I know. ALO {another friend of ours from
high school} tried to get me to read
political blogs but they just make me angry. There are a couple that
I read from people that I don't know, generally comedians and writers.
Yours is a favorite, as well as my coworker Rachel's
(http://nycbabylon.blogspot.com/), my college friend Priscilla's
(http://urbanrhetoric.multiply.com/). I also read the blog of a woman
in Denver (http://www.sweetandbitter.com/inside/). The last one is
truly an example of the wired web and gives new meaning to 'online
dating': Although I've never met her, we discovered each other's
blogs because she was the ex girlfriend of my ex boyfriend. Ha!

Describe your typical day.

6:00 a.m. - The lights plugged into my timers turn on.
7:00 a.m. - My white noise machine turns off.
8:00 a.m. - My cell phone alarm clock goes off.
9:00 a.m. - I get out of bed.

I usually make a cuppa joe with my yuppie Keurig, adoringly sipped
from a Lomonosov porcelain tea cup. (I used to want to save all the
nice stuff I own for "a rainy day" or "guests", but screw that!) My
favorite breakfast these days is toasted raisin bread slathered in
peanut butter, with a cup of greek yogurt mixed with honey and grape
nuts. (Is all this detail way too dorky? Please edit !!!)

10:00 a.m. - I get in my car and drive several miles to my office.
Although I get in later than most, I made my own dorkmobile timesheet
to ensure I work 40-45 hours a week. I used to work 60-70 all the
time so I like the timesheet to keep myself in line. I work at Citi
in the domestic credit card division running a big chunk of the online
acquisitions. It's rewarding work. Every day there are highjinks and
comedy; we've grown in to a happy quirky family -- each with our own
neuroses and talents. I love the guys on my team, I have a great
reporting line, the vendors and partners with whom I work are all
solid people that I hope to maintain relationships with far after I
leave this role.

At least once at the office I'll log into my esprsso.net account and
get updated on all my RSS feeds for the blogs I read, flickr, etc.
(http://www.esprsso.net/people/anp/). It also helps to walk around
the office floor a few times, with Really Serious Strides and Whilst
Looking Busy.

1:15 p.m. - Sometimes I go to a yoga class at our onsite gym.
Otherwise, after work I'll either have an evening basketball game or
writing class (Wednesday, 6-8p) or a meeting with my "personal coach".
I've also been spending time recently with a very funny man that I'll
admit I'm into. (We met when he crashed my company's Christmas
party.) He's taken me to a soup kitchen where he volunteers and I
want to start joining him more often; it's so rewarding to be able to
give back, even in a small way, and community service has always held
a dear place in my heart. Who knew that the way to my heart was by
making me do volunteer work!

Once a month I jello wrestle, and I'm trying to submit a piece of
writing to a different publication once a month too. I just sent out
my first submission today to a magazine called 'The Sun'. !!!!

And of course, up to once a day (I try to limit myself so I can stay
focused on everything else!) I blog.

Ah -- 11:00 p.m. I just heard my white noise machine tick on. I
better go blog something before the day is over.

Drink more water.

I used to drink only water. I would drink milk once in a while, but usually only water.

Then I had kids and many many sleepless nights.

Now I drink soda or coffee. Occasionally milk or juice. RARELY water.

You're Prufrock and Other Observations by T.S. Eliot

Though you are very short and often overshadowed, your voice is poetic
and lyrical. Dark and brooding, you see the world as a hopeless effort of people trying
to impress other people. Though you make reference to almost everything, you've really
heard enough about Michelangelo. You measure out your life with coffee spoons.

I took this quiz for fun and now I'm absolutely floored. T.S Eliot is my favorite poet and The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock is my favorite poem of all time. Coincidence, no?

"Do I dare to eat a peach?"

Thanks to Tammy for the link to the quiz.

This was supposed to be posted on Saturday, but I'm a little late.

Via Create a Connection, I'm supposed to take a picture of an area of my space and look at it like a detective, trying to figure out clues about the person who lives there.

Here's my desk on Saturday. I took this picture without disturbing a thing.

- This person is obviously very concerned with organization in her life. However, since the "To Do" and "To File" bins are full, her organization doesn't always lead to productivity.
- The wedding ring on the desk. On closer inspection, it looks like it needs to be repaired.
- Birthday invitations that are partially addressed. A children's birthday party soon?
- A placque with a quote about family. Person is family-oriented?
- Glasses. Since they're on the desk, the person either uses them for computer use only, or should be wearing them now and isn't.
- Inspirational paper weight: What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail? Person has fears about her goals and aspirations?
- Bins labeled "Art Scraps" and "Design Info" could indicate that this person enjoys art projects and/or decorating projects.

What else would you interpret from this picture?

How does the silverware dish in the kitchen drawer get so dirty? I only put clean silverware in there.

It's my morning to sleep in. Bill and I try to take turns on the weekends (when we can) so the other one can sleep in a little. It's my morning to sleep in. Josie climbed in bed with us at 6:30 this morning and immediately nuzzled up to me. Sweet and warm and her little chubby cheeks are even chubbier when she's sleeping. But I was at the edge of the bed with no room to move and I was extremely antsy. Hence, I'm writing this at 8:30am and it's my morning to sleep in.

Update:
I would like to point out that my inability to sleep in had nothing whatsoever to do with Bill. I was just too antsy to lie in bed. (See, honey? Now everyone knows it wasn't your fault. I never meant to imply it was.)

Thanks to the Internet Anagram Server, I now know the following anagrams for my name:

CLINICAL CAMEL HO

COMICAL LILAC HEN

NACHO MALL ICICLE

Halfway up Kennesaw Mountain

- The cuteness of the fact that Maddie refuses to wear anything but a ballerina tutu when we go places.
- Hearing Josie say, "Arrrrrrr, I'm a pirate!" when she was wearing a pirate's hat at Target the other night. She had Bill and I cracking up each time she did it.
- Stuffing ourselves at Golden Corral. There's nothing like fighting your way through a buffet line to really build up an appetite. Seriously, though, it's an awesome place to take a couple of toddlers. It works nicely with their picky food preferences.
- Catching up on my sleep last weekend. Josie has been waking up in the middle of the night for the past couple of weeks. We can usually get her to go back to sleep, but lately the only thing that will settle her is to let her get in bed with us. It's sweet having my baby cuddle with me until she starts kicking us in various sensitive regions (his crotch, my abdomen).
- That my brother-in-law didn't cut off his finger. He had been cleaning a knife when he called Bill to say that he had cut his finger and blood was literally spurting everywhere. It was a pretty bad cut, and he probably should have gone to the emergency room, but everything turned out okay.
- Fantastic weather last weekend. High 60s, low 70s. It's perfect weather for me, when I can open all the windows in the house and not get too hot or cold.
- Okay, I'm totally going to jinx this, but... Maddie is officially potty-trained! I can't believe it. Her friend Grace came over to play one day and Maddie saw her go potty. From that day on, she has gone by herself, #1 and #2, without any prompting from me. I know there will be accidents here and there, but this has been a long time coming.
- Hiking at Kennesaw Mountain on Monday. Bill was home from work so we all got a chance to go. We used to go all the time before the girls were born. This was the first time with them. They did really well and we look forward to going back again.

Yes, you can play with the puzzles. Do you have to go potty? No, stop licking your sister's feet. Don't you like chicken nuggets? We can't have popsicles for dinner right now. Do you have to go potty? You're being a very good sister. I like when you play together nicely. What's that? Yes, that's my name but you should call me Mommy and not Alecia. We can't go outside right now because it's raining. Put your glasses back on. Do you have to go potty? There already IS chocolate in this milk -- I put some in, see? It's her turn now. Count to 20 and then you can have a turn again. Stay out of Mommy and Daddy's office. You can pet Kitty, but don't pull her tail. Why don't we play with Play-Doh? Yes, but you shouldn't eat it. I made a hot dog but it's not really food, Josie. No, Mommy was just pretending to eat it. Please don't eat your boogers. Do you need a tissue? I know you love your tutu, but maybe we should wear something warmer before we go outside. That's a great drawing! I really like the dog you drew. Oh, I mean I really like the cow you drew. Well, grapes are a better snack than Pez. Daddy will be home later on this evening. Maybe he'll want to play Polly Pocket when he comes home. We can ask him. Is that the doll you wanted? Then give that one to Josie. Jo, if you don't like it you can just put it on the couch. No, just put it on the couch. No, well okay put it in the bathtub. I'm going to tickle you!! Ouch, don't throw toys at Mommy. Please be nice to your sister. Do you need to go potty? I think you need a time-out. One, two... Don't make me count to three. Okay, then. Good girl. You can watch ONE Dora show. Only one. Then it's quiet time. I'm using the bathroom! I'll be right there! Where did you find the lotion? Do you really think you need it in your hair too? Yes, I understand your hands were dry, but let's ask Mommy next time, okay? I love you guys.

Today I slammed my hand in the bathroom door. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. That's because my wedding ring caught most of the action.

I didn't think anything of it until I looked down a few minutes later to see something sparkling and moving. The diamond in my engagement ring is now loose because two of the prongs holding it in have been bent. I'm both annoyed and relieved at the same time. I've heard stories from friends who have lost the stones in their rings. Even if I had noticed it missing right away, there really is no way I could have found it in the state our house is right now. Ahem, need to clean, ahem.

I've got it sitting on my desk here until I can take it by the jeweler's tomorrow. It's odd not having it on my finger. I've worn it constantly since we were married except for each of my pregnancies with the girls when my fingers ballooned up as big as my ankles. Even then I wore it on a chain around my neck. It just feels weird right now. I keep doing this little finger thing I always do where I kind of use my thumb to turn the ring to face the front of my hand.

Of course this wouldn't bother Bill at all. My loving husband hates to wear jewelry and still hasn't gotten used to wearing his ring. Granted, he plays volleyball and works on the computer a lot, but he always forgets to put it back on afterwards. One time I found it on his desk while he was at work. I kept it in my jewelry box for two weeks before he noticed and asked about it. It's a running joke between us. Let's see how long it takes before he notices I'm not wearing mine.

About an hour ago I got off the phone with a customer service rep from our bank. Bill had given me a Visa Gift Card issued from our bank for Christmas. Around 5pm this evening I had called to check the balance. 27 cents. Good, that's what I thought. I'd used up almost all of it on my new wardrobe (thanks, honey!)

Later tonight I made a return at Target for some shoes that had been sitting in my closet since I bought them. I was on the fence about ever wearing them at all, so I returned them. Afterwards I called to check my balance again (sometimes it takes 15 minutes, sometimes 2 days for a return to make it's way back to your account with my bank). My balance was now zero and I was transferred to a customer service rep.

How could it be zero when I had 27 cents a couple of hours ago?

Apparently, my bank (growl growl) charges a fifty cent fee for each call in to check your balance. If you speak to a customer service rep, you get charged $2.

Uh huh. Uh huh. You see where I'm going here. How ridiculous is that? Actually, my words were, "Are you kidding me?" The rep said that is was listed in the purchasing agreement. Yeah, but my husband purchased the gift card for me. A gift card, right? Why should I be penalized for checking my balance?

Now I know some of you would think that it was a big deal over nothing. 27 cents, right? That's nothing. And it makes sense that customer service reps need to get paid somehow, I guess. But if you knew about the history Bill and I have with this bank, you'd understand my frustration. At least once every 3 months there is some kind of screwup affecting us and our accounts, and it usually has to do with something in very very teeny tiny fine print that is only presented to us after the complaint is made.

Why don't we change banks if we have so much trouble, you ask? Yeah, well, we're lazy.

Someday soon, though! I will change banks. I swear it! [Alecia shakes fist in air.]

Find a new (and consistent) hairdresser.

As I mentioned in this post, I got a really bad haircut last month that is only beginning to grow out. I don't see anyone consistently, so this was a new person cutting my hair. As you can see in the picture, my bangs, which were completely cut off, are starting to grow back in. So is the area near my temple that was shaved bald. Luckily, I've been able to do a little comb-over thing, ala Donald Trump, to hide it.

January's Self-Portrait Challenge is New Year Resolutions. See more here.

I watched Match Point with Bill last night. It's been a while since I watched a movie since I always seem to fall asleep on the couch halfway through.

I thought it was a really great movie. I didn't know anything about it, except that I saw Jonathan Rhys Meyers on The View one day talking about it. (I know, I know, but I was channel-surfing.) I got so overcome with watching him and listening to his wonderful accent that I completely missed all mention of the movie itself.

It wasn't until halfway through the movie that I realized it was a Woody Allen film. I have a love/hate relationship with Woody Allen. He's one of my favorite writer/directors and yet some of the stuff he's done has been some of the most god-awful-roll-your-eyes stuff I've seen (and I'm not only talking about real-life.) Once I realized this was one of his films, it was like Aha! I immediately recognized the quick scene transitions and the way he uses music as almost another character in itself.

Of course I loved Rhys Meyers' performance. I've been in awe of him and his acting ever since Velvet Goldmine. He really is a Meryl Streep for the younger generation. He can play so many characters and pull off so many accents so well.

Scarlett Johansson, on the other hand, left me cold. Bill and I talked at length about the attraction people have for her. (I think she has a nice body, he doesn't.) I haven't seen that many of her films, but I think her acting in this one was not very good at all. Her come-hither looks were forced and her hysterics were unbelievable as well. It's more than ironic that she plays an untalented actress in the movie.

Anyway, the film was great. It takes you on a ride that you don't see coming. At one point in the film I actually gasped out loud. I hadn't seen that coming AT ALL. And once that happened, I thought I knew where the rest of the movie was going. But that didn't happen AT ALL.

I love when a movie does that. It's one of the main reasons some of my favorite films are foreign ones.

As I mentioned in the sidebar, I've read two of Jodi Picoult's books. My first was Plain Truth, and most recently The Pact. Both were great and I think Picoult has a gift for creating well-rounded characters, for realistic dialogue, and for taking a controversial topic and covering many sides of it.

My one caveat with both books is the endings. In each case, the ending happened suddenly with no resolution of loose ends. I'm not talking about a happy ending. I love foreign movies so I don't expect happy endings. Picoult does a wonderful job of slowly revealing important clues and plot points to the readers. She does not, however, bring them all together in the end. For example, in The Pact, one of the key elements to the reason for the suicide of one of the characters is never mentioned again after the the 4th chapter. The other characters in the story don't even learn about it at all, though the other reasons for her suicide are slowly discovered.

It just feels as if Picoult writes a wonderful story and then either grows tired of it, or is obliged to meet an editor's deadline, so she wraps everything up in a few sentences. As I said, I'm starting on another of her books soon, so I'm hoping the problem with these first two was just a coincidence and not an indication of her writing style in general.

PS. I just found out that Lifetime made TV movies of both of these books. Unfortunately, they're not showing either anytime soon, but I am curious about how good the movies are.

It's National De-Lurking week, so all of you readers out there (okay, at least the three of you) please leave a comment so I can have some idea of who reads this site. That way I won't post anything bad about you. Ha!

Seriously, though, leave a comment. Even if you just say hi, or just type the letter B. Anything.

Where's Waldo Astrid?

I'm not sure what to do about the cats in our neighborhood. They have been constantly spraying our front and back doors. It's disgusting to have people visit us and get lambasted by the smell of cat pee when they step on our porch.

It's not a heat thing because they've been doing it constantly for the past few months. They used to meow and cry outside our windows. When the girls were babies I could have sworn it was them crying at night, but it was just the cats. Our cat is pretty calm and always seems to try and scare them away. She's spayed, so luckily we won't have to worry about any new kittens anytime soon.

Anyone with cats who has experienced this? Please help me find a way to keep the neighborhood tomcats away. At least for the sake of our future house guests.

The girls see their first movie at the theater. They saw Happy Feet and loved it.

- Getting to spend time again with my friend Carolyn. She was on vacation for a couple of weeks over the holidays and we, as well as Maddie and her daughter Grace, didn't get to see each other until now. I love hanging out at her house and relaxing over coffee and homemade chicken soup while the girls play together.
- Haagen Daz Caramel Cone ice cream.
- New clothes. One of the things Bill got me for Christmas was a Visa gift card with money to buy new clothes. It has been so much fun buying new things. It has been that long since I bought something new to wear that I feel like I need a personal shopper to go with me to tell me what's in style.
- The return of Grey's Anatomy.
- Mailing out the last few Christmas cards we had to send.
- My mom and sister visiting last weekend. It was interesting introducing my mom to MySpace and the internet in general. She stayed up way past her bedtime just Googling old friends.
- Discovering Josie's not allergic to eggs afterall. It had been the milk and butter I'd used to make them before. That's a good thing since she LOVES them and can't seem to get enough.

This poem intrigues me. It reminds me that everyone was once an innocent child, regardless of how they turned out. And I know, though it's painful to admit, that the girls will one day bemoan the way we parented them and vow to do better with their own children.

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

The difference between a 2 year-old and a 3 year-old:

A 2 year-old will go back and finish watching Dora the Explorer on the couch in the living room, after unsuccessfully trying to open Mommy and Daddy's bedroom door on a lazy afternoon.

A 3 year-old will try to open the door, make you think that she has gone, and then magically reappear having snuck through the hallway door into your closet door and then into your room, wherein she announces "Hi, Mommy and Daddy! What you doin'?"

Since I don't have a lot of time on my hands to really elaborate on how I'm feeling each day, I thought I'd let Meez do it for me.

Here's how I'm feeling today:

Jordan at Oh Happy Day mentioned this (from another friend of hers) and I'm adopting it as my own too.

This year one of my resolutions is to have my friends identify something they're really good at and then teach me that skill.

Who's up first?

I realize my posts have been a little, well, depressing as of late. I'm not channeling some angst-ridden teenager. The holidays have just had me remembering a lot of things, especially now the the girls are getting older.

It's good, though. Things have been rumbling around in my head the past few weeks and it's good to get them out. It's cathartic. I've written it all down here so I don't have to think about it anymore. It's now an object completely separate from me that I can look at from a distance with a different perspective.

Ahhhhh.

Now on to more cheerful subjects...

- A wonderful holiday season. Seeing the girls experience everything these last few weeks has made me realize that Christmas is best when you're seeing the joy of your child. Even better experiencing it as a child.
- Everyone's general good health this year, despite the nasty cold Bill has right now.
- The gifts I received for Christmas. I know a lot of thought went into each and every one of them and that's more touching than the gifts themselves.
- Maddie's progress in potty training. Two steps forward, one step back, but that's still progress!
- Josie's improvement in her speech. She is suddenly talking so much. And she's funny! A little comedienne coming out of her shell.
- More time (and energy) to blog this week.
- The ham and bean soup I made on New Year's Day, with the leftovers of the Christmas Day ham we had. It actually turned out the way I planned. Even I was shocked.
- Celebrating the New Year with the people I love most in the world.

I'm starting a meme of sorts. A friend and I were talking about our 3 year-olds and what they'll remember from this part of their lives. That got us started trying to determine what our earliest memories were. I figured it would be an interesting topic for blogging as well.

What is your very first memory?

The first memory I have is when I'm about 3 years-old. My grandfather drove a big rig back then. He only worked locally, so he'd park his truck in the field by the house. He and my grandmother lived on land that had been in my family for years and years. My mom lives there now, in the same house her grandfather built by hand.

Anyway, it was in the fall and my grandfather had borrowed a flat-bed trailer to take all of the local kids on a hayride. I don't remember specifics except that I rode in the cab with him for most of the time, standing on the seat beside him. He drove to a bonfire where everyone ate s'mores and hot dogs.

My grandfather (my mom's stepdad) and I were pretty close when I was little. My mom lived with him and my grandmother after I was born. I was 3 when she married my stepdad and we moved to Indiana. I remember that I spent most of my time sitting on my grandfather's lap in the rocking chair, or standing beside him on the seat of his truck. Sometimes it would be his dump truck if he only had to do a delivery in-town. (For a while, he delivered stone and sand to and from construction sites) He would introduce me to the construction crew and let me look at all the different tractors.

Other times we would be riding up to the local gas station so I could pick out a little treat -- usually a piece of candy or one of those cheap little plastic toys.

Sometimes we would drive out to see his parents, who lived in a town about 40 minutes away. The trip was always the same, always stopping at the same shop for ice cream, always saying the same thing when we passed by Rock Mills. We would always pass a used car lot too. For as long as I can remember there was a bright red '62 Cadillac convertible that sat on the corner of the lot. He would always say that I should drive a car like that when I turned 16. That was a good car to have, he said.

My grandfather died when I was a junior in high school. He had gotten lung cancer and passed away only two months after his diagnosis. I was living away at school at the time when my parents called saying that they were picking me up and we were driving to Alabama that day. We got in late that night to find him withered away -- he looked so little for a man that stood about 6'2" -- and mostly incoherent. He came to for a few minutes and recognized us and smiled before he drifted off again.

The next morning my mom and dad took turns sitting alongside his bed in the living room. My grandmother needed a break to get some rest. At one point they needed to do something so they called me in to take their place. I sat there and just a few minutes later my grandfather woke up. He looked out in front of him and raised his hand as if reaching for something. He kept straining to reach whatever he was seeing. Then he smiled and relaxed back on his pillow. A few seconds later, his eyes flashed open and he took a gigantic breath. He held that breath for what seemed like forever and then he let it out in a loud sound that I could only interpret as a belch at that time. (Later, I would learn it was the death rattle.) I sat there in shock, not sure what I had seen or what I should do next. I remember walking into the kitchen to tell my parents what I'd seen. A few minutes later they announced that he had passed on.

Although I had never seen anything like it, I felt a sense of calm during that moment. Maybe it was the fact that he was in so much pain up until that point. Maybe it was that look on his face, that smile at whatever he'd seen. Maybe it was the fact that I had been there with him when it happened. Either way, that was the first death experience I'd had as a child and I think it set the precedent for how I would later deal with death. Years later, when other family members, and even some friends, passed away, I remember experiencing that same sense of calm. Pain, yes, and definitely tears of longing, but a sense of calm. In an odd way, it was almost like a final gift he had given me. He had allowed me to share in his final moments and see death for what it was. The idea of death being something completely physical with a hint of mystery was much more comforting to me than thinking that something completely unknown could, on a whim, suddenly come and take away something you love.

While all of my later childhood memories involved my mother and stepdad and siblings, my earliest ones were of me and my PawPaw.

I just saw this and I'm LOVING it.

Dr. McDreamy/Dr. McSteamy Morphing Mug

It's a McDreamy mug that turns into McSteamy when it gets hot. Get it? LOVE it. All you Grey's Anatomy fans are with me on this, right?

Speaking of Grey's Anatomy, I love that show and I still can't figure out why. Logically, it should just be like any other soap opera-type show that features doctors. Yeah yeah yeah. Want the girl, get the girl, lose the girl, etc. But emotionally, this show has me by the balls tear ducts.

Thanks to Grey's I now can no longer listen to either of these songs without bawling.

Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars"

The Fray's "How to Save a Life"

Seriously, if I hear them in the car, I have to really work to hold it together. Seriously. (Get it? huh? huh?) I was sitting on the couch with Bill one night when I saw the opener that featured the music video for The Fray, with clips taken from Grey's. Halfway through the video I was crying so hard that I was sobbing and gasping for air. Bill thought I was crazy. Since then, I can't seem to separate those images (of Denny dying...gasp) from the music.

Speaking of Denny, I just found out that Katherine Heigl and the rest of the Grey's cast received a SAG nomination for Outstanding Performance by an Ensemble in a Drama Series . This, along with her Golden Globe nomination for Best Supporting Actress, makes me very happy. I was hoping her performance this season and last would get her recognized in some way. Seriously (again) I think she's a great actress and I just might have a girl crush on her. Oh yeah, and I swear the Grey's writers are intentionally trying to get people to simultaneously sob and laugh at least once per episode. I love it.

I know how sappy this whole post sounds and I want you to know I have never felt this way about a TV show before. It's my first time, and I've ridden the emotional roller coaster with this one so it has a special place in my heart.

I got the latest Pottery Barn Kids catalog yesterday. Sigh. I saw this and immediately fell in love:

I have always been intrigued by family trees. I was especially inspired after I originally saw this years ago:

Despite the price, I would eventually like to frame something similar to the PBK one. I started daydreaming about getting photos together of Bill and I, the girls, the grandparents, the great-grandparents, etc. My mom's family has been traced all the way back to before the Civil War, where one of her ancestors fought alongside General Lee. (Not a proud moment, but moving on...) And then I thought about the picture I'd put in the spot for my father, and I came to a screeching halt.

I'm not sure what to put there. My biological father was out of the picture before my mom's pregnancy test even had a chance to turn blue. My stepdad, whom she married when I was two and who consequently legally adopted me, left our family about 10 years ago, denouncing me as his daughter as he walked out the door. (Actually, he snuck out the door while my mom was in the hospital, but moving on...) So, I'm stuck. Do I leave a question mark in that space? Do I just write the word "asshole?" (I'm really over it. Really. That's just the family nickname for him.) I really really want something like this, both for myself and for the girls. I think it would be something they would appreciate even more as they get older. But how do I explain it to them? My mom just remarried last year to a wonderful, kind, gentle soul, but he has kids and a family of his own and it doesn't seem right to just take his family and ancestors and just plop them into the absent space in ours.

I'm sure children who were adopted also face this, but honestly it has never occurred to me to even think about it until now. What should I do other than abandon the whole idea?

The girls make snow angels in the stuffing from the sofa cushions.

Happy 2007, everyone!