I made this next quilt for a friend of a friend who also had a baby girl. The photo only shows the top. I forgot to take a photo of the finished quilt.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Show & Tell: Baby Quilts
So many women I know – co-workers, acquaintances, friends of friends, bloggy friends, second cousins – are having babies. This morning I counted on my fingers. From February to April, I know of 12 women who either had a baby or will very soon have a baby. While I would have loved to have made a quilt for all 13 babies (yes, one set of twins), it just wasn’t possible due to the heavy cloud that was over my mood for so long. In fact, I was only able to make two quilts tops. My Mom quilted them for me and then I finished the hand binding. Mom made the third quilt. How lucky am I to have a mom that does that? Let me show you that quilt first –
I made this next quilt for a friend of a friend who also had a baby girl. The photo only shows the top. I forgot to take a photo of the finished quilt.
I made this next quilt for a friend of a friend who also had a baby girl. The photo only shows the top. I forgot to take a photo of the finished quilt.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Depression: The Turning Point
I believe that I’ve reached The Turning Point in my battle against depression.
Over the years, our family practice doctor has treated me for my depression and has done a wonderful job at keeping the beast at bay. During the years she has adjusted my medication as needed and it usually seemed to work. And by “it seemed to work” I mean that I stopped crying and moved on with life.
Then about 15 months ago I felt as if my world came crashing down around my ears. I went back to my doctor and she increased my meds. I muddled through for a few months until I realized that I was making my family hurt almost as much as me.
In May of last year, my doctor added a “mood stabilizer” to my meds telling me that it would help the antidepressants work better. I trusted my doctor and took the medication. The crying stopped but I still didn’t feel like me and I felt fuzzy-headed too. My doctor also urged me to meet with a therapist to complement my treatment.
I resisted therapy for a long, long time. The only excuse I have is that I’ve met a lot of kooks in my life and I’m a very private person and have a hard time opening up (says the girl with the blog). But the pleading looks from my family was enough to find a therapist.
So I’ve been meeting with a psychologist every week since June. I really can’t see that I’ve made any progress. Okay, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t feel depressed anymore but I can’t say that I’ve had any A-Ha moments or that the therapist has really helped me. In fact, she’s done nothing but irritate me the past few weeks. But that’s another post.
Anyway, for several months now I haven’t felt depressed. I’ve felt DRUGGED but not depressed. I’ve been sleepy and haven’t had any energy or interest in doing much. I felt weighted down and dampened but not depressed.
My family doctor is awesome and I trust her judgment but I decided that I needed to see a specialist. Last week I met with a psychiatrist. He confirmed that I have Major Depressive Disorder (or Recurrent) which may or may not be genetic and is usually triggered by a stressful or life-changing event. Check, check and double-check.
He also said that I should not be taking the mood stabilizer which is actually an anti-psychotic medication (I knew that). Anti-psychotics are used to treat schizophrenia and bi-polar disorder. But recently pharmaceutical companies have been promoting them for use against depression in addition to antidepressants. You may have seen the commercials on TV.
The psychiatrist gave me a plan to step down from the anti-psychotic medication (since I’m not really psychotic) and then wants to see me in two weeks to review the rest of my meds. Today is Day 5 of the 8-day plan and I feel wonderful! My sleep schedule is a little screwy (which is expected) so I’m tired but my mind actually feels clear. I’m laughing and smiling. I have more energy and I’ve been riding my bike.
Then there’s the MAJOR side-effect of the anti-psychotic medication – weight gain. The medication can slow the metabolism, increase appetite, and cause insulin-resistance. Yep, I gained 20 pounds in the past nine months and no, I’m not having a baby.
Sure I could be bitter about gaining 20 pounds while taking medication that I shouldn’t have been on in the first place. But I’m not. I’m in too good of a mood to be bitter. I’m so happy to be feeling life again that I’m actually excited about getting back to an active, healthy lifestyle and losing weight (fingers crossed).
I definitely think this is The Turning Point and it is good.
Over the years, our family practice doctor has treated me for my depression and has done a wonderful job at keeping the beast at bay. During the years she has adjusted my medication as needed and it usually seemed to work. And by “it seemed to work” I mean that I stopped crying and moved on with life.
Then about 15 months ago I felt as if my world came crashing down around my ears. I went back to my doctor and she increased my meds. I muddled through for a few months until I realized that I was making my family hurt almost as much as me.
In May of last year, my doctor added a “mood stabilizer” to my meds telling me that it would help the antidepressants work better. I trusted my doctor and took the medication. The crying stopped but I still didn’t feel like me and I felt fuzzy-headed too. My doctor also urged me to meet with a therapist to complement my treatment.
I resisted therapy for a long, long time. The only excuse I have is that I’ve met a lot of kooks in my life and I’m a very private person and have a hard time opening up (says the girl with the blog). But the pleading looks from my family was enough to find a therapist.
So I’ve been meeting with a psychologist every week since June. I really can’t see that I’ve made any progress. Okay, that doesn’t sound right. I don’t feel depressed anymore but I can’t say that I’ve had any A-Ha moments or that the therapist has really helped me. In fact, she’s done nothing but irritate me the past few weeks. But that’s another post.
Anyway, for several months now I haven’t felt depressed. I’ve felt DRUGGED but not depressed. I’ve been sleepy and haven’t had any energy or interest in doing much. I felt weighted down and dampened but not depressed.
My family doctor is awesome and I trust her judgment but I decided that I needed to see a specialist. Last week I met with a psychiatrist. He confirmed that I have Major Depressive Disorder (or Recurrent) which may or may not be genetic and is usually triggered by a stressful or life-changing event. Check, check and double-check.
He also said that I should not be taking the mood stabilizer which is actually an anti-psychotic medication (I knew that). Anti-psychotics are used to treat schizophrenia and bi-polar disorder. But recently pharmaceutical companies have been promoting them for use against depression in addition to antidepressants. You may have seen the commercials on TV.
The psychiatrist gave me a plan to step down from the anti-psychotic medication (since I’m not really psychotic) and then wants to see me in two weeks to review the rest of my meds. Today is Day 5 of the 8-day plan and I feel wonderful! My sleep schedule is a little screwy (which is expected) so I’m tired but my mind actually feels clear. I’m laughing and smiling. I have more energy and I’ve been riding my bike.
Then there’s the MAJOR side-effect of the anti-psychotic medication – weight gain. The medication can slow the metabolism, increase appetite, and cause insulin-resistance. Yep, I gained 20 pounds in the past nine months and no, I’m not having a baby.
Sure I could be bitter about gaining 20 pounds while taking medication that I shouldn’t have been on in the first place. But I’m not. I’m in too good of a mood to be bitter. I’m so happy to be feeling life again that I’m actually excited about getting back to an active, healthy lifestyle and losing weight (fingers crossed).
I definitely think this is The Turning Point and it is good.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Shoe Shopping with G-Man. Ugh.
Last week G-Man ran in his very first high school track meet. He tied for last with his teammate in the 100m. He ran his best time and was proud of that. After the race he said,
I don’t want to sound racist but all the kids from the other team were black and… well… they can RUN!
At home that night, G-Man showed me the bottom of his running shoes that had been worn smooth and asked if he could get new shoes and some compression shorts over the weekend. No problem. I told him that we would go to Adidas at the outlet mall. He definitely needed new shoes and I quickly learned that compression shorts are worn under the track shorts to help hold all the important bits in place. Got it.
Shopping with my boys can be hit or miss. Most things they are quite laid back about. But there are certain items in which each of my children has very strong opinions. Plus they each like to stick with their own 2-color color scheme. Mr. A is picky about his shorts and his color scheme consists of khaki and grey. G-Man is extremely picky about his shorts AND his shoes and his color scheme consists of blue and white.
I was in such a wonderful mood Saturday morning that I had forgotten about G-Man’s shoe shopping habits. Maybe I should revise my statement. G-Man is picky about his shorts but when it comes to his shoes he knows exactly what he wants but doesn’t always share this information.
When we arrived at the outlet mall, G-Man asked if we could look at Rack Room Shoes instead of Adidas. I said that we would look at Adidas first. Inside the store, he bee-lined for the non-athletic type shoes. I told him no because they weren’t running shoes.
We then proceeded to argue about the fact that they don’t have an arch or any other support.* This argument when on and on while I made G-Man try on every single running shoe in his size and I texted my Sweetie,
The next time this kid needs shoes you are taking him shopping!!!
G-Man found something wrong with every single pair of shoes. I relented and agreed to go to Rack Room.
At Rack Room, he went straight for the Pumas. Once again, the non-athletic type shoes. Finally, I understood that’s what he wanted but he just used the excuse of needing running shoes to get me in a shoe store. Now I was able to handle the situation a little bit better. I told him to select a pair of running shoes FIRST (because he really did need them) and then he could pick out a pair of Pumas if he wanted to spend his own money.
A pair of New Balance was the winner for the running shoes. G-Man even remarked how comfortable they were. Then came the agonizing decision of which pair of Pumas to buy. Personally, I really liked the grey pair. G-Man desperately wanted the white pair (see above reference to blue & white color scheme) but I threw down the Mom Card and nixed that idea. Mostly because they looked so much like the Capezio jazz shoes that everyone wore circa 1983 (and I didn’t even like them back then). We compromised on the black pair.
The store was running a Buy One Get One 50% off sale and G-Man thought that his Pumas would be the 50% off pair. But it didn’t work out that way. The NB pair was on sale already and ended up being the lower priced pair.
All of the shoe shopping aggravation took one and a half hours of G-Man and I butting heads. If only he said,
Hey Mom, do you think that I could please get some new Pumas in addition to my running shoes?
Then I would have known what was going through his head and I wouldn’t have sent any text messages to my husband threatening to leave our youngest child on the side of the highway somewhere.
The rest of our shopping experience was very companionable. G-Man got his compression shorts to keep things snug and some shorts and t-shirts at Quiksilver. I have finally learned what G-Man looks for in a pair of shorts so I know what to expect and it’s rather low stress.
*After he had his Pumas, G-Man admitted that his Vans aren’t comfortable if he has to run, stand or walk for a long period of time. Hmm. Vans don’t have any kind of support. Mom might actually know what she’s talking about.
****
Your Turn
Do you have a picky dresser in your family? Do you butt heads when shopping with your children? When you were a child did you ever have arguments with your parents about clothes? Did your parents understand your fashion sense?
I don’t want to sound racist but all the kids from the other team were black and… well… they can RUN!
At home that night, G-Man showed me the bottom of his running shoes that had been worn smooth and asked if he could get new shoes and some compression shorts over the weekend. No problem. I told him that we would go to Adidas at the outlet mall. He definitely needed new shoes and I quickly learned that compression shorts are worn under the track shorts to help hold all the important bits in place. Got it.
Shopping with my boys can be hit or miss. Most things they are quite laid back about. But there are certain items in which each of my children has very strong opinions. Plus they each like to stick with their own 2-color color scheme. Mr. A is picky about his shorts and his color scheme consists of khaki and grey. G-Man is extremely picky about his shorts AND his shoes and his color scheme consists of blue and white.
I was in such a wonderful mood Saturday morning that I had forgotten about G-Man’s shoe shopping habits. Maybe I should revise my statement. G-Man is picky about his shorts but when it comes to his shoes he knows exactly what he wants but doesn’t always share this information.
When we arrived at the outlet mall, G-Man asked if we could look at Rack Room Shoes instead of Adidas. I said that we would look at Adidas first. Inside the store, he bee-lined for the non-athletic type shoes. I told him no because they weren’t running shoes.
We then proceeded to argue about the fact that they don’t have an arch or any other support.* This argument when on and on while I made G-Man try on every single running shoe in his size and I texted my Sweetie,
The next time this kid needs shoes you are taking him shopping!!!
G-Man found something wrong with every single pair of shoes. I relented and agreed to go to Rack Room.
At Rack Room, he went straight for the Pumas. Once again, the non-athletic type shoes. Finally, I understood that’s what he wanted but he just used the excuse of needing running shoes to get me in a shoe store. Now I was able to handle the situation a little bit better. I told him to select a pair of running shoes FIRST (because he really did need them) and then he could pick out a pair of Pumas if he wanted to spend his own money.
A pair of New Balance was the winner for the running shoes. G-Man even remarked how comfortable they were. Then came the agonizing decision of which pair of Pumas to buy. Personally, I really liked the grey pair. G-Man desperately wanted the white pair (see above reference to blue & white color scheme) but I threw down the Mom Card and nixed that idea. Mostly because they looked so much like the Capezio jazz shoes that everyone wore circa 1983 (and I didn’t even like them back then). We compromised on the black pair.
The store was running a Buy One Get One 50% off sale and G-Man thought that his Pumas would be the 50% off pair. But it didn’t work out that way. The NB pair was on sale already and ended up being the lower priced pair.
All of the shoe shopping aggravation took one and a half hours of G-Man and I butting heads. If only he said,
Hey Mom, do you think that I could please get some new Pumas in addition to my running shoes?
Then I would have known what was going through his head and I wouldn’t have sent any text messages to my husband threatening to leave our youngest child on the side of the highway somewhere.
The rest of our shopping experience was very companionable. G-Man got his compression shorts to keep things snug and some shorts and t-shirts at Quiksilver. I have finally learned what G-Man looks for in a pair of shorts so I know what to expect and it’s rather low stress.
*After he had his Pumas, G-Man admitted that his Vans aren’t comfortable if he has to run, stand or walk for a long period of time. Hmm. Vans don’t have any kind of support. Mom might actually know what she’s talking about.
****
Your Turn
Do you have a picky dresser in your family? Do you butt heads when shopping with your children? When you were a child did you ever have arguments with your parents about clothes? Did your parents understand your fashion sense?
Friday, March 25, 2011
OMG! New words in the dictionary!
That’s right, OMG has been added to the Oxford English Dictionary along with LOL and FYI. I realized that OMG had become broadly accepted when my Mom read it in an email and understood what it meant. Honestly though, I’m surprised that it’s taken FYI so long to make it into the dictionary.
Muffintop is another new word in the dictionary. I certainly hope its definition includes the phrase, "erogenous zone." Many of us have muffintops so we might as well make them desirable. I wish I could claim that idea but Gretchen at Second Blooming was the one who came up with it.
While I find this tidbit of news humorous, it smacks a little bit of George Orwell’s Newspeak that he created for his novel 1984.
****
Your turn
Just as the world around us evolves, our language evolves. Do you think that the English language will ever become over simplified as it was in 1984? Did you ever read 1984 and know what I’m referring to? Do you ever use OMG in texts, tweets, or emails? How about in conversation?
Muffintop is another new word in the dictionary. I certainly hope its definition includes the phrase, "erogenous zone." Many of us have muffintops so we might as well make them desirable. I wish I could claim that idea but Gretchen at Second Blooming was the one who came up with it.
While I find this tidbit of news humorous, it smacks a little bit of George Orwell’s Newspeak that he created for his novel 1984.
****
Your turn
Just as the world around us evolves, our language evolves. Do you think that the English language will ever become over simplified as it was in 1984? Did you ever read 1984 and know what I’m referring to? Do you ever use OMG in texts, tweets, or emails? How about in conversation?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Need Help! Anniversary Gift Idea!
Sunday marks our 7th wedding anniversary. Seven years ago we said “I do.” Seven years ago we became a family of four.
Each year my Sweetie and I have had fun trying to interpret the traditional anniversary gifts. S has definitely had better luck at this than me. Two years ago for our 5th anniversary (wood), he gave me (and planted) a rose tree. My gift of a wooden charging station for his cell phone was so lame in comparison.
This year I’m at a total loss. The traditional gifts for the 7th anniversary are wool and copper. Hmm… Wool. Wool blanket, wool socks, wool sweater, wool cap. Nope, wool just doesn’t work in Florida when it’s 80 degrees.
Copper. A copper pot perhaps? No, because I would end up being the one to polish it. Besides, I don’t want to waste the precious storage space I have reserved for the 9 qt. Le Creuset Dutch oven I want to get someday. I spied a coil of copper tubing in the garage. Perhaps I could create an interesting, abstract piece of sculpture. I mentioned the copper to my Sweetie and he said that he plans to recycle it because copper is worth a lot of money. Oh well.
Stumped I looked at the modern gifts for the 7th anniversary. Brass and desk sets. A desk set is out. What about brass? If only I could find an antique boatswain’s whistle. That would be PERFECT! Oh, wait. He’s already got one.
So here I am asking for help. Does anyone have a gift idea for S that falls into the wool, copper, or brass category. If a little spark of genius doesn’t strike soon, S will receive the oh-so-romantic gift of The Pacific on DVD. Don’t worry about me writing that out because it was actually his suggestion. If you do have a more interesting gift idea, please leave a comment. S, if you’re reading this, please don’t read the comments until after Sunday. Thanks!
Each year my Sweetie and I have had fun trying to interpret the traditional anniversary gifts. S has definitely had better luck at this than me. Two years ago for our 5th anniversary (wood), he gave me (and planted) a rose tree. My gift of a wooden charging station for his cell phone was so lame in comparison.
This year I’m at a total loss. The traditional gifts for the 7th anniversary are wool and copper. Hmm… Wool. Wool blanket, wool socks, wool sweater, wool cap. Nope, wool just doesn’t work in Florida when it’s 80 degrees.
Copper. A copper pot perhaps? No, because I would end up being the one to polish it. Besides, I don’t want to waste the precious storage space I have reserved for the 9 qt. Le Creuset Dutch oven I want to get someday. I spied a coil of copper tubing in the garage. Perhaps I could create an interesting, abstract piece of sculpture. I mentioned the copper to my Sweetie and he said that he plans to recycle it because copper is worth a lot of money. Oh well.
Stumped I looked at the modern gifts for the 7th anniversary. Brass and desk sets. A desk set is out. What about brass? If only I could find an antique boatswain’s whistle. That would be PERFECT! Oh, wait. He’s already got one.
So here I am asking for help. Does anyone have a gift idea for S that falls into the wool, copper, or brass category. If a little spark of genius doesn’t strike soon, S will receive the oh-so-romantic gift of The Pacific on DVD. Don’t worry about me writing that out because it was actually his suggestion. If you do have a more interesting gift idea, please leave a comment. S, if you’re reading this, please don’t read the comments until after Sunday. Thanks!
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
It's a Fuzzy Chick!
Last month a mating pair of Sandhill Cranes laid an egg in their nest in a pond near my house. Every day I slowed down as I drove by to see if there were any changes. I was unsure of the incubation period for Sandhill Cranes but I imagined that the egg would hatch very soon.
Yesterday evening I slowed down as per my custom and notice a little, fuzzy, brown chick! Yea! A baby! I quick counted in my head and deemed that it took the egg four weeks and five days to hatch.
After dinner I grabbed my camera and walked to the pond. I was very lucky to get as close as I did to the nest. Sandhill Cranes can be very territorial and have been known to chase people. I knew the parent on the nest wouldn't leave the chick and the other one must have been off foraging. Mr. A kept watch for the mate's return while I quickly snapped photos. The chick was very active and curious. We were only there a few minutes and then left them in peace.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Art with a Disclaimer
I work at an art museum. Yes, it’s a fabulous place to work. No, I don’t get to handle the artwork. And no, I won’t tell you the name of the museum because I don’t want my blog popping up in the Google Alerts for the PR department.
A large portion of the Museum’s permanent collection is Baroque art. Think dramatic, colorful paintings full of large, fleshy nudes.
The collection includes many paintings by Peter Paul Rubens like the one above from the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Several years ago as I walked through the Museum lobby, a woman in her sixties stopped me and exclaimed,
“You shouldn’t allow children in here with all this nudity! It’s disgraceful!”
She didn’t wait for a response and turned on her heel to leave. I let out a small giggle as the woman brusquely walked out the front door side-stepping an elementary school group.
Through the years, I’ve occasionally heard similar comments. Some visitors have suggested that we put up disclaimers or warnings about the nudity. I’ve always chalked it up to someone being a little narrow-minded or not familiar with art history.
Granted there have been some traveling exhibitions (mostly photojournalism) at the Museum that contained disturbing images of violence or a controversial topic. For those instances, the curators posted disclaimers and therefore practically eliminated any negative feedback.
A new exhibition will open in a couple of months and the art is the opposite end of the spectrum from what normally hangs in the exhibition space. Without revealing any secrets, the art would be described as “underground.” The art isn’t something that the regular Museum patrons have ever seen before. They will either be receptive to it or hate it. A very fine line and it could go either way.
Now the topic of disclaimers has arisen again. Some of the Museum staff would like put a disclaimer on the exhibition stating that it’s not suitable for children but I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve seen the images and I didn’t see any violence, disturbing images, drug references, or nudity.
I’m wondering if the staff members want the disclaimer in place just in case there is negative feedback from donors or potential donors on the selection of such an out-on-the-limb exhibition.
****
Your Turn
Have you ever been offended by any art you’ve seen in a museum? Would you still view an exhibition if there was a disclaimer on it? Is it art if it needs a disclaimer? Do you ever look at some artwork and just go, Huh?
A large portion of the Museum’s permanent collection is Baroque art. Think dramatic, colorful paintings full of large, fleshy nudes.
Rubens, Peter Paul (1577-1640)
The Union of Earth and Water, 1618
Oil on Canvas
The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia
The Union of Earth and Water, 1618
Oil on Canvas
The State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia
The collection includes many paintings by Peter Paul Rubens like the one above from the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Several years ago as I walked through the Museum lobby, a woman in her sixties stopped me and exclaimed,
“You shouldn’t allow children in here with all this nudity! It’s disgraceful!”
She didn’t wait for a response and turned on her heel to leave. I let out a small giggle as the woman brusquely walked out the front door side-stepping an elementary school group.
Through the years, I’ve occasionally heard similar comments. Some visitors have suggested that we put up disclaimers or warnings about the nudity. I’ve always chalked it up to someone being a little narrow-minded or not familiar with art history.
Granted there have been some traveling exhibitions (mostly photojournalism) at the Museum that contained disturbing images of violence or a controversial topic. For those instances, the curators posted disclaimers and therefore practically eliminated any negative feedback.
A new exhibition will open in a couple of months and the art is the opposite end of the spectrum from what normally hangs in the exhibition space. Without revealing any secrets, the art would be described as “underground.” The art isn’t something that the regular Museum patrons have ever seen before. They will either be receptive to it or hate it. A very fine line and it could go either way.
Now the topic of disclaimers has arisen again. Some of the Museum staff would like put a disclaimer on the exhibition stating that it’s not suitable for children but I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve seen the images and I didn’t see any violence, disturbing images, drug references, or nudity.
I’m wondering if the staff members want the disclaimer in place just in case there is negative feedback from donors or potential donors on the selection of such an out-on-the-limb exhibition.
****
Your Turn
Have you ever been offended by any art you’ve seen in a museum? Would you still view an exhibition if there was a disclaimer on it? Is it art if it needs a disclaimer? Do you ever look at some artwork and just go, Huh?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The Wisdom of Dr. Seuss
Ever since receiving his appointment to the US Naval Academy, Mr. A has been preparing physically and mentally for Plebe summer.
Plebe summer is a 5-week training program for the incoming class of midshipmen (in Mr. A’s instance the Class of 2015). These few intense weeks teach the Plebes how to be in the Navy and test their mental and physical endurance. It is the first weeding out process for the Class of 2015. Think of it as Boot Camp for Plebes.
Mr. A has been following the Academy’s recommended training program for physical fitness. Even though swim season is over, he continues to go to the Y every day after school to swim, run, or lift weights.
He’s also done lots of research to get in the correct frame of mind. He’s read about Plebe summer online at the Academy’s website, he’s talked to current midshipmen, and he’s bounced questions off his dad. (My Sweetie was enlisted and well understands the working of the Navy).
One day while out for a walk, Mr. A expressed a concern about Plebe summer. The uniforms that the Plebes wear for five weeks are an ill-fitting, collage of pieces pulled from many different types of Naval uniforms. Yes, they look a little silly. The cover (hat) they wear is an enlisted man’s white, Dixie cup. But so that it’s unique for the Plebes, a navy blue stripe has been added around the brim.
Mr. A said that he doesn’t want to wear the hat with the stripe because it looks stupid. I chuckled when I learned that was his only concern. I simply told him to think of the Sneetches.
Sneetches?
Yes, if the upper classman had stripes on their hats, you would want a stripe on your hat. You only think the stripe looks stupid because they tell you it does. That’s all.
Mr. A pondered this for a moment and then concluded that Dr. Seuss was a genius.
I told my eldest son to wear the stripe proudly. And if anyone criticized the stripe, he should mentally say, “You only wished you could rock a striped hat like I do.”
Plebe summer is a 5-week training program for the incoming class of midshipmen (in Mr. A’s instance the Class of 2015). These few intense weeks teach the Plebes how to be in the Navy and test their mental and physical endurance. It is the first weeding out process for the Class of 2015. Think of it as Boot Camp for Plebes.
Mr. A has been following the Academy’s recommended training program for physical fitness. Even though swim season is over, he continues to go to the Y every day after school to swim, run, or lift weights.
He’s also done lots of research to get in the correct frame of mind. He’s read about Plebe summer online at the Academy’s website, he’s talked to current midshipmen, and he’s bounced questions off his dad. (My Sweetie was enlisted and well understands the working of the Navy).
One day while out for a walk, Mr. A expressed a concern about Plebe summer. The uniforms that the Plebes wear for five weeks are an ill-fitting, collage of pieces pulled from many different types of Naval uniforms. Yes, they look a little silly. The cover (hat) they wear is an enlisted man’s white, Dixie cup. But so that it’s unique for the Plebes, a navy blue stripe has been added around the brim.
The Plebes are dressed in white and the upper classmen are in khaki.
Photo: US Naval Academy
Mr. A said that he doesn’t want to wear the hat with the stripe because it looks stupid. I chuckled when I learned that was his only concern. I simply told him to think of the Sneetches.
Sneetches?
Yes, if the upper classman had stripes on their hats, you would want a stripe on your hat. You only think the stripe looks stupid because they tell you it does. That’s all.
Mr. A pondered this for a moment and then concluded that Dr. Seuss was a genius.
I told my eldest son to wear the stripe proudly. And if anyone criticized the stripe, he should mentally say, “You only wished you could rock a striped hat like I do.”
That day they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches.
And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars and whether
They had one, or not, upon thars.
Friday, March 18, 2011
CPP on Hiatus
CPP 3.16.11 Tamiami Trail
So my idea to do a daily Cell Phone Pic fizzled after only five days. The first hurdle came last Saturday when I forgot to charge my phone and it completely died. I never took a photo that day. The final death blow occurred when my Sweetie informed me that Verizon charges us $1 everytime I send a photo to my email address. Sure I could take the micro SD card out of my phone, put it in an adapter, then put it in my card reader attached to my home computer (I don't have one at work) every day. But really, do I want to expend that kind of energy at this point? No, not yet. Go ahead, calle me lazy.
Ideally, we could add data service back into our wireless package and I could snap away and send photos to my email with reckless abandon.
For the time being this particular photo project will be on hiatus.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
My Half Birthday
This is a re-post from St. Patrick's Day 2010.
HAPPY HALF BIRTHDAY TO ME!
Today I am 40 and one half years old! Not many grown women count their ages in half years, do they? That’s usually reserved for six-and-a-half-year olds and six-and-three-quarter-year-olds.
But as with everything, there’s a story behind my Half Birthday.
As soon as I could count and knew the months of the year, I realized that my Half Birthday landed on St. Patrick’s Day. (For those of you counting on your fingers, my Whole Birthday is September 17th.) I thought I was pretty special to have my Half Birthday on St. Patrick’s Day and I wanted everyone to acknowledge it. No such luck.
I still think I’m pretty darn special to have my Half Birthday on St. Patrick’s Day because I’m the ONLY person in my family to have red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. None of my parents, siblings, children, nieces, or nephews has my glorious genetic trifecta. I look Irish every day of the year! But mostly I’m a Heinz 57 with big splashes of French and Scottish. Of course, it’s not that glorious during dermatology appointments but that’s another blog post altogether.
Anyway, for the better part of my childhood in Pines Lake my father commuted in and out of Manhattan every day. One St. Paddy’s Day when leaving the city, a flower vendor pressed three green-tinted carnations onto my father. Pops really didn’t want them but the vendor just wanted to be rid of the flowers and go home.
As per our custom, Schnapps (Miniature Schnauzer) and I greeted my father at the back door when he arrived home. I can’t remember how old I was (probably 3 or 4 and a half) but I zeroed in on the carnations my father had completely forgotten he was holding.
“Who are the flowers for?”
My father paused and looked at the flowers as if it was the first time he saw them. He recovered nicely by presenting them to me.
“Happy Half Birthday!”
That sealed it! My Half Birthday was official!
Ever since then my parents have done special little things for me on my Half Birthday such as: a green carnation, a St. Paddy’s Day card, a shamrock cookie, chocolates, or a dinner of corned beef and cabbage. My special extra day during the year makes up for all the stories my older siblings told me about being “adopted.” What started off as a little girl looking for attention turned into a family joke and eventually evolved into a family tradition.
The boys’ Half Birthdays land on special days as well. Mr. A’s Half Birthday is my mother-in-law’s birthday and G-Man has the ultimate date – Christmas Day.
****
Your turn
What interesting family jokes / traditions do you have that have evolved or continued through the years?
HAPPY HALF BIRTHDAY TO ME!
Today I am 40 and one half years old! Not many grown women count their ages in half years, do they? That’s usually reserved for six-and-a-half-year olds and six-and-three-quarter-year-olds.
But as with everything, there’s a story behind my Half Birthday.
As soon as I could count and knew the months of the year, I realized that my Half Birthday landed on St. Patrick’s Day. (For those of you counting on your fingers, my Whole Birthday is September 17th.) I thought I was pretty special to have my Half Birthday on St. Patrick’s Day and I wanted everyone to acknowledge it. No such luck.
I still think I’m pretty darn special to have my Half Birthday on St. Patrick’s Day because I’m the ONLY person in my family to have red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. None of my parents, siblings, children, nieces, or nephews has my glorious genetic trifecta. I look Irish every day of the year! But mostly I’m a Heinz 57 with big splashes of French and Scottish. Of course, it’s not that glorious during dermatology appointments but that’s another blog post altogether.
Anyway, for the better part of my childhood in Pines Lake my father commuted in and out of Manhattan every day. One St. Paddy’s Day when leaving the city, a flower vendor pressed three green-tinted carnations onto my father. Pops really didn’t want them but the vendor just wanted to be rid of the flowers and go home.
As per our custom, Schnapps (Miniature Schnauzer) and I greeted my father at the back door when he arrived home. I can’t remember how old I was (probably 3 or 4 and a half) but I zeroed in on the carnations my father had completely forgotten he was holding.
“Who are the flowers for?”
My father paused and looked at the flowers as if it was the first time he saw them. He recovered nicely by presenting them to me.
“Happy Half Birthday!”
That sealed it! My Half Birthday was official!
Ever since then my parents have done special little things for me on my Half Birthday such as: a green carnation, a St. Paddy’s Day card, a shamrock cookie, chocolates, or a dinner of corned beef and cabbage. My special extra day during the year makes up for all the stories my older siblings told me about being “adopted.” What started off as a little girl looking for attention turned into a family joke and eventually evolved into a family tradition.
The boys’ Half Birthdays land on special days as well. Mr. A’s Half Birthday is my mother-in-law’s birthday and G-Man has the ultimate date – Christmas Day.
****
Your turn
What interesting family jokes / traditions do you have that have evolved or continued through the years?
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
What's in a song
Last week I heard Linkin Park’s Waiting for the End for the first time while driving home from work. Initially, when I heard the repetitive piano note I thought it was the theme song for the Battlestar Galactica. But it wasn’t.
Then the melody of the song reminded me of a song from the 70’s. The lyrics were completely different but I know I sang it as a child. I thought and thought and hummed the tune for 24 hours before it finally came to me! Seasons of the Sun.
I must have listened to Waiting for the End a dozen times trying to deconstruct the pieces. Now I can’t get the song out of my head. If such a thing as an electric kazoo existed, then I think they play one towards the end of the song.
Then the melody of the song reminded me of a song from the 70’s. The lyrics were completely different but I know I sang it as a child. I thought and thought and hummed the tune for 24 hours before it finally came to me! Seasons of the Sun.
I must have listened to Waiting for the End a dozen times trying to deconstruct the pieces. Now I can’t get the song out of my head. If such a thing as an electric kazoo existed, then I think they play one towards the end of the song.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Office Etiquette: Sleeping Co-Working
What is the proper etiquette for when your co-worker has fallen asleep at his/her desk?
a. Let co-worker continue sleeping.
b. Wake up co-worker before boss returns.
c. Snap photo and post on Facebook.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Meditation Cleaning
Over the years I’ve used meditation to relax, de-stress, and fall asleep. I was very excited to find downloadable mp3 meditations on iTunes a couple of years ago. Usually, I’m out like a light on the nights I plug into my iPod and listen to a meditation.
Recently, I decided to mix things up a bit and download a new meditation. I went to the iTunes Store and looked at the selections. There were meditations to improve relaxation, self-esteem, sports performance, and even male endurance.
Then a particular title caught my eye, Motivation to Move. The synopsis stated that it motivated the listener to get up and be active - exercise, workout, go to the gym, etc. Hmmm…. I definitely need to exercise and little bit of motivation would be greatly appreciated.
Buy.
I started listening to the meditation three weeks ago. I really don’t know what all it says because I fall asleep before the relaxation exercise is complete. The instructions say to listen to the meditation every day for 21 days because that’s approximately how long it takes the new behavior to go into effect. Well, on Day 20 I started cleaning… a lot
Saturday night I cleaned our bathroom after dinner because I wanted to put out the freshly washed, new towels. I cleaned. But not the ordinary mop-the-floor clean. The get-into-the-corners-and-scrub kind of clean.
Sunday I cleaned and reorganized the laundry room cabinets. I reorganized the linen closet and all the shelves on my side of the closet. I did a mountain of laundry, folded it and put it away. I swept floors and vacuumed. (BTW, how does one short-haired dog shed so much hair?) I climbed step-stools and lifted things over my head. I made a dozen trips in and out of the garage.
I finally settled down at 9 pm and noticed that my body ached as if I had been working out. That’s when I happened to think of the Motivation to Move meditation. Well, I guess fanatic cleaning could be deemed as a form of exercise. I wonder if the author of the meditation had housework in mind as one of the ways to get moving. Or if it was the inner workings of my brain that interpreted the meditation as such.
****
Your Turn
Do you ever do meditation?
Do you think my sudden burst of fine-tooth cleaning is a result of my Motivation to Move meditation?
Recently, I decided to mix things up a bit and download a new meditation. I went to the iTunes Store and looked at the selections. There were meditations to improve relaxation, self-esteem, sports performance, and even male endurance.
Then a particular title caught my eye, Motivation to Move. The synopsis stated that it motivated the listener to get up and be active - exercise, workout, go to the gym, etc. Hmmm…. I definitely need to exercise and little bit of motivation would be greatly appreciated.
Buy.
I started listening to the meditation three weeks ago. I really don’t know what all it says because I fall asleep before the relaxation exercise is complete. The instructions say to listen to the meditation every day for 21 days because that’s approximately how long it takes the new behavior to go into effect. Well, on Day 20 I started cleaning… a lot
Saturday night I cleaned our bathroom after dinner because I wanted to put out the freshly washed, new towels. I cleaned. But not the ordinary mop-the-floor clean. The get-into-the-corners-and-scrub kind of clean.
Sunday I cleaned and reorganized the laundry room cabinets. I reorganized the linen closet and all the shelves on my side of the closet. I did a mountain of laundry, folded it and put it away. I swept floors and vacuumed. (BTW, how does one short-haired dog shed so much hair?) I climbed step-stools and lifted things over my head. I made a dozen trips in and out of the garage.
I finally settled down at 9 pm and noticed that my body ached as if I had been working out. That’s when I happened to think of the Motivation to Move meditation. Well, I guess fanatic cleaning could be deemed as a form of exercise. I wonder if the author of the meditation had housework in mind as one of the ways to get moving. Or if it was the inner workings of my brain that interpreted the meditation as such.
****
Your Turn
Do you ever do meditation?
Do you think my sudden burst of fine-tooth cleaning is a result of my Motivation to Move meditation?
Sunday, March 13, 2011
The Week Finally Ends
Well, last week decided to be lousy until the bitter end. Friday night my Sweetie, Mr. A, and I went out to dinner at the new Mexican restaurant that we were going to try on Wednesday. Any by new I mean it has a new owner and supposedly a chef from Mexico. While waiting a half an hour for our table I looked at S told him that I couldn't believe that we were actually waiting to eat Mexican food. But we all decided that it wouldn't be any quicker to go elsewhere so we decided to stay put.
S had shrimp tacos, A had fish tacos, and I had carnitas. Both S and A said their dinners were okay but nothing to write home about. Mine was so awful and full of fat that I sent it back to the kitchen and told the waitress that I didn't want anything else. I sat there sipping my soda while the guys finished their tacos. The owner had the nerve to come by the table and try to justify the lack of quality of the food. I insisted that I didn't want anything else because I was afraid of what might come out of the kitchen. The owner came by again with a 10% of coupon for our next meal. Yea right. We paid the bill and left the coupon on the table.
Saturday morning I got a pedicure which was delightful. But I happened to notice that my cell phone was dead. Since I had such an unlucky week, I decided to go home and charge my phone before I ran my other errands. I didn't want to tempt fate. As I left the salon, my stomach started to growl. Well, no duh. I didn't eat dinner the night before. So I pulled into Chipotle and ordered some real carnitas. I pulled out my phone to call the guys to get their lunch orders and remembered it was dead. In the end, I ordered extra guacamole and chips for the guys and nothing else. BOY, did I get nasty looks when I came home with only Chipotle for me. Then I reminded them of dinner the night before and they backed off. The red hair might have flared up a little.
Once my phone was charged, I was still a little hesitant about going back out. After a week of life kicking me in the pants, I just didn't feel like dealing with traffic and crowds. But I made myself go out and I'm glad I did because I scored big at Marshall's. I bought two sets of big fluffy bath towels, bath mats, and new artwork for the bath for all under $100. Our master bath is very bright and sunny so I can get away with dark color towels and accessories. I'm very pleased with the results.
I'm tired now so I'll wait 'til later in the week to fill you in on the Cell Phone Pic of the Day, G-Man's Big Adventure, and my cleaning frenzy.
Darn you Ben Franklin for stealing one hour of my sleep!
S had shrimp tacos, A had fish tacos, and I had carnitas. Both S and A said their dinners were okay but nothing to write home about. Mine was so awful and full of fat that I sent it back to the kitchen and told the waitress that I didn't want anything else. I sat there sipping my soda while the guys finished their tacos. The owner had the nerve to come by the table and try to justify the lack of quality of the food. I insisted that I didn't want anything else because I was afraid of what might come out of the kitchen. The owner came by again with a 10% of coupon for our next meal. Yea right. We paid the bill and left the coupon on the table.
Saturday morning I got a pedicure which was delightful. But I happened to notice that my cell phone was dead. Since I had such an unlucky week, I decided to go home and charge my phone before I ran my other errands. I didn't want to tempt fate. As I left the salon, my stomach started to growl. Well, no duh. I didn't eat dinner the night before. So I pulled into Chipotle and ordered some real carnitas. I pulled out my phone to call the guys to get their lunch orders and remembered it was dead. In the end, I ordered extra guacamole and chips for the guys and nothing else. BOY, did I get nasty looks when I came home with only Chipotle for me. Then I reminded them of dinner the night before and they backed off. The red hair might have flared up a little.
Once my phone was charged, I was still a little hesitant about going back out. After a week of life kicking me in the pants, I just didn't feel like dealing with traffic and crowds. But I made myself go out and I'm glad I did because I scored big at Marshall's. I bought two sets of big fluffy bath towels, bath mats, and new artwork for the bath for all under $100. Our master bath is very bright and sunny so I can get away with dark color towels and accessories. I'm very pleased with the results.
I'm tired now so I'll wait 'til later in the week to fill you in on the Cell Phone Pic of the Day, G-Man's Big Adventure, and my cleaning frenzy.
Darn you Ben Franklin for stealing one hour of my sleep!
Friday, March 11, 2011
This Sums Up My Week
This week hasn’t been fun and I’m glad it’s coming to a close.
Mr. A has been sick all week. Do you have any idea how miserable a 17-yr-old boy can be when he’s sick during his spring break and all he wants to do is see his girlfriend? His misery can dampen the entire mood in the house.
Wednesday night my Sweetie and I were suppose to meet for dinner. The hopeless sickie didn’t want to come so S and I were going to have date night in the middle of the week. I was even wearing a dress! Then my Sweetie called from the shoulder of I-75. He had driven Mr. A’s truck that day and the transmission broke. So much for date night. I changed my clothes and headed out to pick up my Sweetie. Thankfully, he was safe and it didn’t happen while A and his girlfriend were on their way to the zoo in Tampa.
CPP 3.11.11
The comic relief came Thursday. I work on a 66-acre estate and most departments have golf carts available for various uses. Late Thursday afternoon I drove my department’s ancient cart over to another building to pick up some boxes of brochures. I parked the cart, put it in neutral, engaged the parking brake and went in the building.
About ten minutes later I heard someone say, “Who has Cart 16? Cart 16 is in the pond.”
It took a moment for what I heard to sink in. Cart 16 was my cart. I thought to myself, “Oh shit! I hope they don’t make me pay for it.”
Apparently, the parking brake let go and luckily the mud stopped the cart before it became completely submerged. Once I realized that no one was hurt and there wasn’t any damage, I was able to laugh about it with my co-workers and visitors who stopped to take photos.
In the big scheme of things, nothing too horrible has happened. This week has just been one thing after another without a break and all on top of the anxiety that swirled up last weekend. Little things like spilling iced tea on the computer keyboard at home, running to Publix at 8:30 pm for sorbet after fetching my husband from the side of the highway, taking my eldest to the doctor for a sinus infection, and accidentally breaking my iPod earbuds so that I’m stuck listening to the office gossip/chatter when I don’t want to. The most disheartening thing is that we’ll probably post-pone buying our new bed to next month. Dammit. I really wanted a new bed and new bath towels. Oh well.
This week was the type of week designed to test my patience and make me thankful for everything I have in life. I can honestly say that I am very thankful.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Elevator with a View: CPP 3.10.11
The patio umbrellas in the lower left corner belong to a Belguim restaurant that I'd like to try someday. It always smells so good at lunchtime.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Randomness: Orange Blossoms, Sonic Booms & PBS
- The orange blossoms are blooming now. Mmmm! I love the smell of orange blossoms. Orange blossoms are night blooming so you can smell them starting at dusk, all through the night, and early in the morning as the sun comes up. We can smell them more frequently this year because the winds are blowing across the state rather than from the Gulf of Mexico and bringing the fragrance to us. Unfortunately, they make my eyes and throat burn if I’m out too long. But it’s even worse for my husband. His eyes swell shut! So we have to keep the house closed up and the A/C on at night. But orange blossoms do make the best honey!
- I was outside today and heard the sonic boom when the Space Shuttle Discovery re-entered the atmosphere. I’ve heard a sonic boom before but it’s still so cool every time it happens. As I made my way back in the office, I thought of the first Space Shuttle mission in 1981. I was in the 6th grade and we went down to the library to watch the Columbia take off. We returned to the library two days later to watch it land. That was 30 years ago!
- I enjoy PBS and all the programming my family and I have watched over the years. But I still hold a small grudge. Like every other preschooler in 1973, I watched Sesame Street, Electric Company, and Mister Rogers religiously. I specifically remember a pledge drive on PBS 13. The very convincing announcers on TV told me that without our pledges, quality programming like Sesame Street would go off the air. I was panicked. I BEGGED my parents to send in money (and get the free tote bag) but they didn’t. You know what? Sesame Street didn’t go off the air. That’s when I realized those people on TV were fibbers. I haven’t forgiven them yet for deceiving a four-year-old.
****
CPP 3.9.11
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Temporarily Altered Family Dynamics
The family dynamics of the PLRH household adjusted slightly due to G-Man’s absence this week.
Normally, it’s an “Us and Them” environment with the four of us. Parents in the front seat chatting. Kids in the backseat ignoring or annoying each other. Parents on one side of the dinner table and kids on the other. During family conversations, no matter how much foolishness occurs, the parents are still the voice of reason. It’s not an “Us against Them” situation. But you’ve got to admit that when dealing with teenagers, there’s safety in numbers.
This past weekend I noticed a shift. As usual, I was out numbered in the boy-to-girl ratio but this time it was different. Without G-Man present to molecularly bond with Mr. A, my Sweetie gravitated to our eldest son and some father-son, male bonding occurred.
Friday night after I checked my email, I walked out of the den to find S and A each sipping a glass of Old Vine Zinfandel and discussing the finer points of wine and food pairings. I shook my head, turned around, and went back to the den to play a round of Bejewel. Eventually, Mr. A decided that wine is an acquired taste.
On the drive to IKEA Saturday afternoon, I let Mr. A have the front seat. I dozed in the back while the men folk discussed gas prices, world politics, the Navy, and who knows what else. This conversation carried through dinner at a new Japanese restaurant where they shared a huge sushi boat.
Sunday we checked out a place called Livingston’s as a potential location for Mr. A’s going away party. The place is kind of like Chuck E Cheese for adults and is just as gross as the kid’s version. But they have a go cart track! So the boys went for a spin.
As my guys raced around the track, I reflected on their behavior that weekend. I marveled at it. I was thrilled that my husband and son enjoy each other’s company. I smiled every time I saw my son unknowingly mimicked one of my husband’s gestures. Nurture certainly won the Nature vs. Nurture debate in our family.
This weekend was a little odd for me and I felt slightly displaced at times. But overall, it warmed my heart. Also, I’m now curious what the dynamics amongst S, G-Man, and myself will be like when Mr. A is away at school.
****
G-Man’s Big Adventure Update:
Yesterday evening I hadn’t heard from G-Man since breakfast so I texted him and asked him what they did that day. This is his reply:
What a totally awesome day! Who’s jealous? Because I’m jealous!
Today they went to the Hoover Dam and this was G-Man's texted re-cap of the day:
Yes, my son is a smart-ass and he comes by it naturally.
****
Your Turn
Have you noticed if your family dynamics change when a child, sibling, parent, or spouse is absent?
****
Cell Phone Pic (CPP) 3.8.11
Normally, it’s an “Us and Them” environment with the four of us. Parents in the front seat chatting. Kids in the backseat ignoring or annoying each other. Parents on one side of the dinner table and kids on the other. During family conversations, no matter how much foolishness occurs, the parents are still the voice of reason. It’s not an “Us against Them” situation. But you’ve got to admit that when dealing with teenagers, there’s safety in numbers.
This past weekend I noticed a shift. As usual, I was out numbered in the boy-to-girl ratio but this time it was different. Without G-Man present to molecularly bond with Mr. A, my Sweetie gravitated to our eldest son and some father-son, male bonding occurred.
Friday night after I checked my email, I walked out of the den to find S and A each sipping a glass of Old Vine Zinfandel and discussing the finer points of wine and food pairings. I shook my head, turned around, and went back to the den to play a round of Bejewel. Eventually, Mr. A decided that wine is an acquired taste.
On the drive to IKEA Saturday afternoon, I let Mr. A have the front seat. I dozed in the back while the men folk discussed gas prices, world politics, the Navy, and who knows what else. This conversation carried through dinner at a new Japanese restaurant where they shared a huge sushi boat.
Sunday we checked out a place called Livingston’s as a potential location for Mr. A’s going away party. The place is kind of like Chuck E Cheese for adults and is just as gross as the kid’s version. But they have a go cart track! So the boys went for a spin.
As my guys raced around the track, I reflected on their behavior that weekend. I marveled at it. I was thrilled that my husband and son enjoy each other’s company. I smiled every time I saw my son unknowingly mimicked one of my husband’s gestures. Nurture certainly won the Nature vs. Nurture debate in our family.
This weekend was a little odd for me and I felt slightly displaced at times. But overall, it warmed my heart. Also, I’m now curious what the dynamics amongst S, G-Man, and myself will be like when Mr. A is away at school.
****
G-Man’s Big Adventure Update:
Yesterday evening I hadn’t heard from G-Man since breakfast so I texted him and asked him what they did that day. This is his reply:
Well… we drove 2 hours to the skywalk, and went on it. Then we took a helicopter ride through the Grand Canyon. Then we landed in the canyon and took a boat ride on the Colorado River.
What a totally awesome day! Who’s jealous? Because I’m jealous!
Today they went to the Hoover Dam and this was G-Man's texted re-cap of the day:
It was pretty good for a Dam. We did take a Dam tour. Had some Dam food. Took lots of Dam pics and went in the Dam gift store.
Yes, my son is a smart-ass and he comes by it naturally.
****
Your Turn
Have you noticed if your family dynamics change when a child, sibling, parent, or spouse is absent?
****
Cell Phone Pic (CPP) 3.8.11
An old pump house on the property adjacent to where I work.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Cell Phone Pic of the Day
As I’m slowly shaking off this heavy coat of depression, I’d like to get back more into doing creative activities. I miss doing my Weekly Photo Challenge. But I also know that I’m not up to speed enough to restart the challenge Baby steps, you know?
So I came up with a variation on the photo challenge. I’ve decided to do a Cell Phone Pic of the Day. I always have my cell phone with me and something always catches my eye during the course of the day. This is a fun solution because I don't feel like lugging my Nikon around with me every day. It will be interesting to see how the photos progress over time and if my technique improves.
If I happen to write a blog post that day, I’ll simply add the cell phone pic at the end. Some days it might only be the pic. Who knows, the daily pic might even inspire the blog post. As always, your comments are always welcomed.
For those of you who want to know the technical stuff… My cell phone is a 2-yr-old LG Versa. The only special effects it possesses are color effects. Don’t expect anything fancy like the Hipstimatic treatment on the iPhone.
Today's photo was taken at lunchtime as I walked along the bay front. The weather was 65°, sunny, and brezzy.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
De-Cluttering
I don’t like clutter. Walking into a clutter-filled room in my house makes me feel anxious. By no means do I like the minimalist aesthetic. I just like things put away.
One of the many cruel side effects of depression is that I don’t feel like cleaning or straightening up. But then the mess piles up and I have a meltdown similar to the one I had last week. As a result, my Sweetie formulated a plan of action to de-clutter the house over the next several weeks.
Saturday morning we sorted through about half of the bookcases in the house, the storage cabinets below some of the bookcases, the pantry, and one of the hall closets. We must have taken 150 pounds of books to Goodwill.
While sorting I realized that I hold onto some things for a really long time. Apparently, if the items are put away and behind a closed door, then I don’t mind clutter so much. Boxes of crayon nubs leftover from the boys’ days in elementary school were some of the items to hit the garbage.
After a drop-off run to Goodwill and lunch, we went to Ikea for storage ideas. The den is the smallest room in the house, the room that serves the most functions, and the most cluttered mess in the entire house. It’s the room that causes me the most anxiety. Unfortunately, after discussing our de-clutter plan we might revise it and the den will end up last.
The revised de-clutter plan may include switching the boys’ bedrooms around after Mr. A leaves for the Academy. G-Man would move into the smaller bedroom with the “grown-up” furniture. The larger bedroom would get a major makeover and become the guest room / sewing room. Of course, all of Mr. A’s belongings would move into that room as well.
I had mixed feelings while discussing the room switch. I’m finally to the point in my life where I’m willing to let go of the boys’ youth furniture. That stage of our lives is completely finalized. But at the same time, I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that starting in June Mr. A will only be home for a maximum of two weeks at a time.
In other words, I had a Mom Moment.
So in a sense, the de-cluttering this weekend was both physical and emotional. Good thing we’re doing it in stages.
****
You Turn
How do you feel about clutter? Do you de-clutter often or do you never let it build up? Do you hang onto things for emotional or practical reasons?
One of the many cruel side effects of depression is that I don’t feel like cleaning or straightening up. But then the mess piles up and I have a meltdown similar to the one I had last week. As a result, my Sweetie formulated a plan of action to de-clutter the house over the next several weeks.
Saturday morning we sorted through about half of the bookcases in the house, the storage cabinets below some of the bookcases, the pantry, and one of the hall closets. We must have taken 150 pounds of books to Goodwill.
While sorting I realized that I hold onto some things for a really long time. Apparently, if the items are put away and behind a closed door, then I don’t mind clutter so much. Boxes of crayon nubs leftover from the boys’ days in elementary school were some of the items to hit the garbage.
After a drop-off run to Goodwill and lunch, we went to Ikea for storage ideas. The den is the smallest room in the house, the room that serves the most functions, and the most cluttered mess in the entire house. It’s the room that causes me the most anxiety. Unfortunately, after discussing our de-clutter plan we might revise it and the den will end up last.
The revised de-clutter plan may include switching the boys’ bedrooms around after Mr. A leaves for the Academy. G-Man would move into the smaller bedroom with the “grown-up” furniture. The larger bedroom would get a major makeover and become the guest room / sewing room. Of course, all of Mr. A’s belongings would move into that room as well.
I had mixed feelings while discussing the room switch. I’m finally to the point in my life where I’m willing to let go of the boys’ youth furniture. That stage of our lives is completely finalized. But at the same time, I’m having a hard time accepting the fact that starting in June Mr. A will only be home for a maximum of two weeks at a time.
In other words, I had a Mom Moment.
So in a sense, the de-cluttering this weekend was both physical and emotional. Good thing we’re doing it in stages.
****
You Turn
How do you feel about clutter? Do you de-clutter often or do you never let it build up? Do you hang onto things for emotional or practical reasons?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
G-Man's Big Adventure
Spring Break starts tomorrow for the boys. My parents will pick G-Man up at school and head to the airport. They are going to the Grand Canyon and surrounding area for eight days. Their itinerary includes places such as the South Rim, West Skywalk, Hoover Dam, Petrified Forest, Painted Desert, and Red Rock State Park.
Do you have any idea how challenging it can be to get a 15-yr-old boy to back for a week-long trip to a climate he’s never experienced? He doesn’t seem to understand that yes, he will need a knit cap, gloves, and a jacket at night in the desert in the winter. Florida Boy doesn’t comprehend cold. Well, if he leaves something at home out of stubbornness, at least I don’t have to hear him complain!
Seriously, I have a feeling that G-Man will remember this vacation for all of his life. This is an adventure that he will share solely with his grandparents. No older brother or Mom & Dad hanging around. I may not have had cool grandparents but I sure am glad that my kids do.
And in case you’re wondering…
No, I haven’t been to the Grand Canyon either.
****
Your Turn
Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? Do you remember doing something special with your grandparents without your siblings or parents? Did you ever go on vacation with your grandparents?
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
High School Anxiety Dreams
My dreams are vivid and maybe a little on the odd side.
Many of my dreams take place in my childhood home in Pines Lake and the surrounding area. Once, I shared this with my sister and she told me that I have issues. I have no idea what issues they might be other than I love where I grew up. Even people who have never been to the house in Pines Lake will appear in my dreams set there. Every time that happens I wake up a little bit amused.
In my dreams, there’s also an entire fictional landscape that appears over and over again. This landscape consisting of a shopping mall, highway (with tolls), high school, college campus, and small town exists only within my dreams and I’m quite familiar with it.
I warned you that my dreams might be a little odd.
Occasionally, I have high school anxiety dreams. In these dreams, I find myself thrown into high school once again. My anxiety stems from not being able to remember my locker combination, forgetting my schedule, getting lost on the way to class, or not studying for a test. By the end of the dream, I happily remember that I already finished high school and I move on.
A few years ago, I mentioned high school anxiety dreams to a co-worker and he told me that he gets them when he’s really stressed. He always dreams it’s Thursday because that was the day he had gym class and he always cut that class.
A few nights ago, I had a new kind of dream… a college anxiety dream. I was at a new college campus and it was the first day of classes. At first, I thought I woke up late. Then I couldn’t read my schedule. I didn’t understand the codes for the buildings. I couldn’t find my campus map either. I wondered why I didn’t do a dry run the day before. But then another something new happened… My Sweetie was there to calm my anxieties and help me get out the door and on the way to class with some other friends headed my way.
After I awoke and reflected on my dream, I noticed the big difference. For the first time that I can remember, someone other than me calmed my nerves and moved my dream along. Hmmm… Interesting.
For all I know, my husband could have been trying to shake me awake because he thought I might be snoring.
****
Your Turn
Do you have anxiety dreams? Particularly high school anxiety dreams?
Many of my dreams take place in my childhood home in Pines Lake and the surrounding area. Once, I shared this with my sister and she told me that I have issues. I have no idea what issues they might be other than I love where I grew up. Even people who have never been to the house in Pines Lake will appear in my dreams set there. Every time that happens I wake up a little bit amused.
In my dreams, there’s also an entire fictional landscape that appears over and over again. This landscape consisting of a shopping mall, highway (with tolls), high school, college campus, and small town exists only within my dreams and I’m quite familiar with it.
I warned you that my dreams might be a little odd.
Occasionally, I have high school anxiety dreams. In these dreams, I find myself thrown into high school once again. My anxiety stems from not being able to remember my locker combination, forgetting my schedule, getting lost on the way to class, or not studying for a test. By the end of the dream, I happily remember that I already finished high school and I move on.
A few years ago, I mentioned high school anxiety dreams to a co-worker and he told me that he gets them when he’s really stressed. He always dreams it’s Thursday because that was the day he had gym class and he always cut that class.
A few nights ago, I had a new kind of dream… a college anxiety dream. I was at a new college campus and it was the first day of classes. At first, I thought I woke up late. Then I couldn’t read my schedule. I didn’t understand the codes for the buildings. I couldn’t find my campus map either. I wondered why I didn’t do a dry run the day before. But then another something new happened… My Sweetie was there to calm my anxieties and help me get out the door and on the way to class with some other friends headed my way.
After I awoke and reflected on my dream, I noticed the big difference. For the first time that I can remember, someone other than me calmed my nerves and moved my dream along. Hmmm… Interesting.
For all I know, my husband could have been trying to shake me awake because he thought I might be snoring.
****
Your Turn
Do you have anxiety dreams? Particularly high school anxiety dreams?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Senior Portraits
Last week Mr. A and I met up with a friend of mine at the University of Tampa for a senior portrait photo shoot. Chrissy and I first met when we worked together five years ago. We worked really well together and also became dear friends. Then a few years ago, Chrissy, her husband, and darling daughter moved far away to Milwaukee. With nothing better to do than chase a toddler around and free-lance PR jobs, Chrissy decided to start her own photography business last year.
I’ve missed Chrissy terribly in both my personal and professional lives. That’s why it was such a treat to meet up with her and have her take Mr. A’s portrait while she was in the area visiting family.
After staring at photos and sorting through proofs for the past day, I still get choked up every time I see these images. When did my son become a man?
I’ve missed Chrissy terribly in both my personal and professional lives. That’s why it was such a treat to meet up with her and have her take Mr. A’s portrait while she was in the area visiting family.
After staring at photos and sorting through proofs for the past day, I still get choked up every time I see these images. When did my son become a man?
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