If I Can Make It Through December. . . .

Isn't there a country song that goes something like that? If I can make it through December, everything will be alright. Only three more days. . . . . I think. I'm not really sure at this point. I feel like I have scratched and clawed my way through every day of this month and finally I can see the light of the New Year. I just hope the light isn't an oncoming train.

I know it's been forever since I've written. Or at least it seems like it. Then again, Thanksgiving seems like a holiday that happened about three years ago, so what do I know. Where did I leave off? Oh yeah, Santa Claus was coming to town. Well, he did, but before he got here, Mother Nature, Old Man Winter and Jack Frost all got together and decided to have a pissing contest right in our corner of the continent. I couldn't tell you which of them won. All I know is that it wasn't the residents of the greater Portland metro area.

But still, I'm getting ahead of myself. There are things to tell even before "Arctic Blast '08" decided to roll into town. . . . . .

To Be Continued. . . . .

Santa Claus Is Coming To Town!

Every year part of the Christmas festivities in our community includes Santa flying into town on a helicopter and this year was no exception. We met some friends for donuts and then bundled up and headed to the shopping center where Santa would make this year's Christmas debut. The wind was cold, but the sun was shining and you really can't ask for more than that in Oregon. After landing, Santa made his way around the cordoned off circle of eager boys and girls for hand-shaking and photo ops, then headed inside to get down to the serious business of toy requests.

We bided our time in line for the hour or more it took to reach Santa, but it was all worth it to Adam. There was no way he was passing up the opportunity to ask for the Millennium Falcon. . . and the Bat Cave. As we were walking back to our car, Adam sidled up to me and whispered, "Santa knew about Jaba the Hut and Han Solo. How does he know all that Star Wars stuff?"

Because Santa is magic. . . . . . and apparently a Sci-Fi geek.

What A Girl Wants, What A Girl Needs

The "work" of Christmas is almost over. Except for a couple of stocking stuffers I have all my shopping done and most of it is already wrapped and under the tree. After years of being the primary holiday shopper in this family I've finally gotten smart the last couple of years. Instead of braving the malls on the weekends when the whole damn planet seems to pack themselves into the local Macy's, I take a day off work and hit the stores with latte in hand and absolutely zero children in tow. In about five hours I make a major dent in the Christmas list and my stress level never even hits "anxious".


Part of what I love about getting out there and scouring the stores is finding that one item that makes you stop and say, "What the hell?" Some of you may remember the Santa blow-up doll socks from last year. They still make me shake my head. This year? Well, this year it was the Pink Ouija board by Parker Brothers that made my cart and my head do a 360 in the middle of Toys-R-Us.

Yes, folks your young adolescent girls can now have their very own window to the underworld in a new fashionable color! It comes complete with a box of "questions girls want to know" like, "Who will be the next to call/text me? Will I be famous? Who wants to be me?" and a zippered carrying case for easy travel to their next pajama party!


Now whether you believe Ouija boards can cause any real harm or not, you have to admit Ouija just lost all street cred. In fact, he just had his balls handed to him in a purse. A pink one.

Attack of the Smurfette

One day I'll learn my lesson, but I'm pretty sure today is not that day. Every once in awhile I tell myself how fun it would be to do a holiday craft with the kids. Something simple, something easy. I imagine us painting and smiling while we sip hot cocoa and glue on googly-eyes to the latest feature project in Family Fun magazine. This season, I set my sights on this little gem:

Now this really is a simple craft, especially if you have most items on hand, which I don't so it cost me about $15 dollars just to get started. Then there's this small detail: Adam all but detests art. His idea of a craft is three seconds with a black crayon. So tonight when I announced we were making a terra cotta Nativity scene, he just looked at me blankly and continued playing. Jamie on the other hand loves art and in the future will probably be right there with me making pipe cleaner reindeer, but at the moment she is two. Which means she loves to paint, but would rather paint herself than mini terra cotta pots.

So as I type, my tub is encrusted with a blue ring, my table needs a scrubbing as well and the terra cotta pots are covered in nothing more than fingerprints, but I'm sure I'll give it another try the next time glitter paint catches my eye because even if nothing but a mess is actually made, its all worth it for pictures like this:

Mayhem At The Mall

I just returned from Black Friday shopping. Yes, it only 6am and I am already done. I have survived the onslaught of like-minded holiday shoppers and returned to tell about it. And what do I have to tell? That people care way too much about $5 DVD's. And that I'm grateful that the rental car we have has Maryland plates because there is no way I would have realized that I was trying to get into the wrong tan Sienna if I hadn't been for this small detail. And yes, there was someone waiting for my spot that then watched me move over two spots to the other tan Sienna. The one with the taillights blinking everytime I tried to unsuccessfully unlock the doors of the van I was standing in front of.

Damonn thinks I'm crazy do get up this early to save a few dollars and usually I'd agree, but something was drawing me to that Wal-Mart parking lot this morning that I just couldn't ignore. I thought it was the Blu-ray DVD player for $129, but once I was shoulder to shoulder with the most determined of Roseburg shoppers, I realized what had drawn me here was the social experiment of it all. To watch people levy their carts and manuever their bodies to cut in line for an $8 dollar coat that was normally only $15 all because it was a "Black Friday" special. It is truly corporate marketing at its best.

I have one suggestion for the organizers of Wal-mart black Friday. Ban shopping carts. Make it survival of the fitests. If you can't carry it, you don't buy it. That way I wouldn't have to punch the sweaty post-menapausal woman blocking the aisle with her cart while she digs waist deep in a bin for the pink Mp3 player.

Welcome to the Holiday shopping season everyone!

T-minus 10 Seconds to Turkey Day

After three days of Jamie asking if it is time to go to Roseburger, we are packed and loaded and everyone is whining so yes, Jamie, I believe it is finally time to head to Roseburger. I hope everyone has a happy and hearty Thanksgiving filled with more relatives than you can stand.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Politics, Protest And Power

Saying Adam has a tendency to fly off the handle is a understatement. He can go from helpfully setting the table to a puddle of fury and loathing at the flip of a switch. (I wonder where he gets that from) I just wish I knew where that switch was located. I would find it and layer it in inches of packing tape so that at no time could it be accidentally switched on ever again. And then perhaps our family may be able to consume one dinner in peace - even if (gasp!) pork or pea pods or potatoes or pineapple - or whatever new food he decided he now absolutely detests was being served.

Food, once again, was the catalyst for such dire emotions as we left their daycare last night. Damonn was going to a Blazer's game with a friend so we were on our own for dinner. I announced that we were going to McDonald's and waited for the cheers and confetti. Instead I received a proclamation from Adam that we were going to "Volunteer and have a battle between McDonald's and Shari's". After several clarifying questions into what in the hell he was talking about, I came to the conclusion that he wanted to vote (not volunteer) on where we ate dinner. I hate Shari's. I hate everything about Shari's. From the way that everything is served luke warm, to the apparent pool of grease that everything is cooked in, to the ridiculous price they ask you to pay for such fare. But being the proponent of democracy that I am, and knowing full well that Jamie will always pick McDonald's, I agreed to his suggestion.

So how did Adam take to his democratic loss? Let's just say there was less anger and mayhem after the Rodney King verdict than there was in the back seat of our car last night. And the range of tactics he used to first persuade our votes and then push for a re-vote was quite impressive. But when he ended his tirade in saying that voting Shari's actually meant McDonald's and vice-versa so really Shari's had won, I just had to laugh. Politics is definitely in his future. Or maybe a future in defending such politicians.

But the night didn't end there, folks. Oh no. Because I don't take kindly to a five-year old holding a personal political protest in my back seat, I made the executive decision to have PB&J at home. By the time we pulled into the driveway his "kid power" fist in the air shenanigans had turned to the calmer approach of civil disobedience. He now refused to get out of the car. Again, his tactics were impressive, his stamina. . . . not so much. Within about 90 seconds of Jamie and I leaving him for the warmth of our kitchen he was following behind, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

The Man will always win, Adam. You have to be The Man to beat The Man. Only then will you be able to rule with all the evil that you possess.

It's The Little Things That Squeak Up On You

Yesterday I noticed that the steering wheel in my car is making this faint, little mouse-of-a squeak when I make a turn. Today the strap on my laptop case started squeaking with the rhythm of my walk down the street. This afternoon my right shoe began squeaking with every step. All of this makes me fear that my life is on the verge of coming loose at the seams. Either that or it's just my brain grinding to a halt.

Tension Breaker

We were all hungry and getting a bit grouchy this morning as we drove back from visiting the Children's Museum. After asking, reminding and then demanding several times that the kids keep their hands to themselves and quit the incessant screeching I reached my breaking point when Adam tilted his head and gave me a smirk that said, "Really? What can you actually do to me speeding down the road buckled into a car?"

I turned to Damonn and muttered under my breath, "If we don't get out of this car I am going to wipe that fucking grin off his face!"

Adam apparently heard me and instantly shrieked, "Aaaww! I heard you! You said Millennium Falcon!"

Damonn and I looked at each other and just started laughing. Guess what the new expletive phrase is in our house?

Grendel: Controversy Hits the Burbs

Last night I attended my first ever school board meeting. Well, now that I think about it, it was actually my second. My first being when I gave a presentation to the Roseburg School Board at age 12 as co-editor of the high-class production that was our two-page Elementary School newsletter (printed on goldenrod paper, of course). The only thing I distinctly remember about that night is my teacher being irritated that I didn’t wear a dress. Not much has changed.

The topic that drew me and about 300 of my fellow townspeople to the meeting last night was a proposal by parents to have the book, Grendel, by John Gardner removed from the Sophomore Advanced English class curriculum. Well, I should be honest. What really drew me was a caller on the Rick Emerson Radio Program calling in to state that a small group of Mormons were trying have a book banned from our local high school and since very few things chap my hide more than a religious group trying to dictate how others should live their life, I was determined to be in attendance. But alas, from the reading I did before the meeting and the several people who stood to make their case for both sides of the issue last night, I gathered that it wasn’t an all out ban on the book that these parents were looking for but the removal of the book from a particular curriculum.

Their stance on the issue is that while they respect Grendel as a work of literature (which, by comments both in person and on the handout they passed around, I feel this was said more for their argument than their actual belief), the several instances of graphic language depicting rape, torture and mutilation are not appropriate for fifteen-year old children. And even though this novel is used in many sophomore classes across the country, they felt that the same aspects of human nature could be taught and discussed just as easily with a less explicit selection and that we could and should do better for our children. They were also concerned with the lack of explanation on the permission slip that went home to parents as to the nature of Grendel and felt that this non- communication to the parents was intentional so as not to bring to light the type of literature that was being read.

From the viewpoint of the high school English department and many parents in attendance last night, Grendel is regarded as excellent literature and that while there are parts that are graphic, the overall theme and message behind the actual words are great catalysts for classroom discussion. They also pointed out this is an advanced, college prep, optional course and feel that the students accepted to this class are mature enough to process and discuss the graphic content. And in regards to the parent’s concern about the permission slips, a three-hour workshop – in which the protesting parents participated – the high school had came up with a more comprehensive permission slip for parents, optional books that could be read in place of Grendel if parents did not approve and were still working on a way to better incorporate those students in the overall classroom discussion.

Where do I stand on all of this? Let me first state that I have not read Grendel. I did read what I assume is most if not all of the passages in protest passed around on the printed version of the argument and in no uncertain terms, it is graphic. I even found myself balking at certain phrases, but is it too graphic for a 15-year old? I suppose that depends upon the 15-year old. Does the content of the book outweigh the vulgarity of the prose? I don’t know. I haven’t read it. But my argument does not lie with what is within the pages of Grendel. My argument is for personal choice.

If the English department required the reading and dissection of Grendel to graduate, I would agree with these two parents. This book is most likely not appropriate for all teenagers, not even all adults for that matter, and a different novel would be better suited for a general audience. But this is not required reading. This is not even a required class. This is an optional, advanced, college prep class that is designed to promote the more critical thinking that will be required as they move into college courses.

I understand the concern of these parents and I whole-heartedly commend them for staying abreast of what and how their children are learning. It was wonderful to see such parental involvement in the education of our children at the school board meeting – our community is very lucky. But as I listened to both the mother and the father make their case, even in light of better permission slips and optional reading for those families that don’t feel comfortable with Grendel (and a community suggestion of moving it to the senior class curriculum), it became apparent that this had become more about getting their way than making our schools better for all students. They were determined to stand their ground and stamp their feet through meetings with teachers and department heads and principals and superintendents and three school board meetings until the curriculum of our school district was in direct line with their ideals. They were not looking for compromise; they were looking to guide all of us with their own personal moral compass.

I know that whether or not we include this book in our high school curriculum is really inconsequential, but who decides whether or not it will be there is not. Why not let the parents speak in a more democratic fashion? Hand out the permission slips and if a large majority are opting out of reading Grendel then the department can review the reasons for this selection and perhaps choose another title. But if we allow our communities to be governed only by the strictest of moral code and the most limited of ideals of any one group then we are compromising much more than the education of our children. We are compromising the freedoms that allow us to reach, ask, ponder and explore any topic of our choosing.

I admire these parents for standing up for what they believe in, it takes a great amount of courage to do so, but there is a difference between refusing to personally cross a line in the sand and making sure no one else does either. They have the right, and now the option, to have their children read books they are comfortable with. Shouldn’t I be allowed the same? My school board thinks so.

Yes We Can!

I sit here this morning blurry-eyed and sleep deprived, but with a smile that just won’t stop. I keep returning to CNN for confirmation that it really happened. Barack Obama has won the presidency and we have elected our first African-American president! It is somewhat surreal that I am part of, and have participated in, such a monumental step forward in American history and that I will be able to personally relay to my grandchildren what it felt like to be a part of this moment.

And between the hoots and hollers and the Eskimo Pie eating last night at the Election party, actually many times during this campaign, I thought about explaining to Adam the significance of this country electing a man of color to be our President. Two things have stopped me. One, Obama’s campaign has never been about race and I felt it unfair for me to make it so. But more importantly, Adam has never once mentioned a difference between Obama’s skin color and his own. Could he distinguish it if asked? Of course. Just like as a child I could have distinguished a difference between myself and a black person beside me on the bus or standing in front me at the same drinking fountain, but it would have never occurred to me that there was a time when they weren’t allowed to be there. Adam will learn about the history of this country in his own time and I will be happy to share any knowledge and perspective I can, but I believe the strides our country is making can be honored just as much by leaving intact the innocence to our differences as it can be by acknowledging and celebrating this huge step towards a more perfect union. And I hope that when my children learn about the barriers of inequality that were broken last night by the people of this country that overlooked the color of a man’s skin to choose hope and inclusion over fear and division, that their amazement won’t be in that an African-American would actually, finally, be elected as President of this nation, but amazement that there ever was a time when they wouldn’t.

But even as we celebrated this milestone, Obama was sure to remind us in his acceptance speech that this election is only the first of many battles that lie ahead. “This victory alone is not the change we seek. It is only the chance for us to make that change. . . . . So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism, of responsibility, where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves but each other."

I hear this call to duty and am ready, willing and able to do my part. So as my favorite fictional president, Josiah Bartlet, would say, “What’s next?”

Party At My House!

Tomorrow we will have a new president, but tonight, tonight we celebrate democracy Suburban Reality style! A few friends and family are gathering at our place to watch the election results tediously roll in. To break up the monotony of the cable news pundits I have some riveting Presidential trivia at the ready and of course food! Behold my election night menu honoring each of the four candidates. I'm so clever I can barely stand myself!

Happy Election Night Everyone!

God Bless Democracy!

October Activities. . . Rolled Into One Big Post

You know what I love about Halloween? It has all the fun of Christmas without all the stress and guilt. And considering both the involvement and the turn out for our "Harvest Moon Party" at work there are a lot of other people that feel the same way. Harvest Moon Party? Yeah, we can't officially call it Halloween at work. Although when HR reminded us of this technicality I responded by telling her that I was Wiccan and I didn't appreciate not being able to accurately refer to my high holy day. The way her face contorted in a politically correct effort to hide her dismay was priceless. I can't wait to see her confusion when I start lighting my Menorah for Hanukkah. But I digress.

What started as a simple Pumpkin Carving contest and Eerie Edible Bake-off to raise the morale in the office ended up as an all-out decorating competition between departments complete with spiderwebs and hanging banshees, jars of "brains" and mechanical lawn ornaments, a fog machine and a treasure hunt for the kids. I even won best costume for my pirate garb! The mess we'll need to clean up on Monday morning is completely worth the morale boost because seeing your co-worker in drag does way more for productivity than any sales kick-off ever could.

But the festivities didn't start - or end- there. Last weekend all my family gathered at our house for our annual trip to the pumpkin patch at Lee's Farm. This was our fourth visit to the farm but the first time with our new cousins! What I love about Lee's Farm is that it has all the basic pumpkin patch activities without the lines of Disneyland. We pet the goats and ride the ponies, take a trip through the two-minute hay maze complete with a black plastic culvert slide and then head for the barn to chow on some donuts. Oooohhhh, the donuts. Still warm and dusted with sugar, these apple-cider donuts absolutely melt in your mouth. They are so worth paying $7.00 for a pumpkin.


But of course the main attraction of Halloween is the gathering and gorging of sugary treats. And something mysterious happened while we were out trick-or-treating last night. Maybe it was a full moon or maybe she felt a new sense of bravado behind that clown make-up, but Jamie was not her usual clingy, don't-look-at-me, curl-up-like-a-ball-in-front-of-strangers self last night. She took the lead ringing door bells, remembering her thank-you's and forging her way through groups of strangers up porch steps. It was the spookiest thing of the night. Well, that and the kid dressed up as the Burger King king. That guy creeps me out in a completely wonderful way.


Jamie also took the lead on the gorging of candy. The rule in our house is all the candy you want to eat on Halloween night. With Adam, this has always been more of a suggestion than a challenge. After three or four pieces he was done and on to something else. Jamie took candy eating to a whole new level. After at least ten pieces in as many minutes thoughts of mid-night chocolate peanut butter barf started dancing in my head and we had to call a halt to the gluttony. And for the next half hour we laughed as she bounced around the living room like a raving midget clown on some really good shit. God, how I love Halloween!

The Power Of Democracy. . . and MS Paint

A year of watching debates and obsessing over polls and making calls and spreading the word. The power of democracy all comes down to a tiny little oval on a piece of paper. . . . .

And because I'm really not that mature, it was all I could do not to scribble out the names of John McCain and Sarah Palin in an extremely childish fashion. But alas, the temporary joy of vandalizing their names was just not worth invalidating my ballot and my vote.

So I made a copy.

Ah, that feels better.

Barack The Vote - With A Song

I don't know if you guys enjoy the political turn this blog has made lately, but this all started as a place for me to put down my thoughts and joys and of course frustrations of my life and right now politics is what is dominating my thoughts and frustrations - and joys. And to the chagrin of my husband, most of my TV viewing. "Seriously? More of this GD election crap?" Well just hold on to your horses there mister you only have ten days left and then I'll be silently basking in the glory of an intelligent president (knocking on any and all wood possible).

But for the time being I have this, sent to me from a reader who I hold dear to my heart as a fellow Obama voter working the campaign grassroots style by sending along many a funny clip that keep the rest us from pulling our hair out over the insanity that has become the Republican campaign. This is her latest find from YouTube. Really funny! Enjoy.





And this is their newest. A pro-Obama jingle to the tune of the 80's hit, Bust A Move. Hillarious, and catchy!

Pop Goes The Weasel

Tonight as I was washing dishes I suddenly noticed that Jamie was not at my feet badgering me to "help" with the dishes. Things were a little too quiet. . . . .

"Jamie, where are you?"

"You talkin' do meee?", she screeched popping up from under the kitchen table with this face:



"Yes, I'm talking to you. What are you doing down there?"

"Pooping".

"Of course you are. What else are you doing down there?"

"Nuding."

"Your face says otherwise. I hope."

What's Wrong With This Picture?

That's right, those look like donkeys to me! And what is that word up there on her shoulder? Oh my, it seems even Sarah Palin secretly wants to vote for Obama. Or maybe this is just what she would call "reaching across the aisle". Either way she better hold onto that scarf. She's going to need it to dry her "Real-American" tears come November 5th.

Learning Curve

I don’t know why I have such a hard time with this, but I never remember my re-usable cloth grocery bags until I’m standing in line to pay for my groceries. (Any tips on helping me remember are gladly accepted.) And this again was the case as Jamie and I stood in line at our local Albertson’s yesterday afternoon. So, in my attempt to be a good global citizen I requested paper as my best second choice over plastic (our disposal company doesn’t recycle plastic bags) and my checker was happy to comply. The next few minutes included my flirting with Jamie sitting in the cart behind the checker and the checker’s incessant, one-sided conversation about the great deal her daughter got on diapers at a competing store. Mmm. Uh-huh. Oh yes. Of course. Uh-huh. So I didn’t notice until I was walking back to my car that she had bagged the first sack of groceries in paper and then proceeded to bag the rest in plastic. Not only were they in plastic, but three of my items (sliced swiss cheese, Swiffer mop pads and eggs) were in their own, individual plastic bags. Was I supposed to specify paper for each bag of groceries? Or that I would like more than one item to be placed in each bag?

I’m quite aware how this story makes me sound – Something akin the to the “uppities” that would come into Abby’s Pizza where I worked in Roseburg for their $1.25 glass of box wine and swap stories in positively horrific tones about how last weekend they cut loose and drank wine out of a beer glass! Oh, the impropriety of such a crime! She actually had the audacity to use PLASTIC for her groceries! Ah-gad! Can you imagine being so grotesque? But I’m trying to be aware. I’m trying to do my best as an individual and using non-biodegradable plastic bags for each one of my grocery items seems a pretty obvious thing to avoid. I say, as I jot down a note to pick up more non-biodegradable mop pads.

We’re all still learning.

My Favorite Time Of Year

I love this time of year. The crisp weather, the changing leaves and for most of the month, blue skies that beat any summer day hands down. I found this video that reflects all the things I love about October. Turn it up to hear one of my favorite songs in the background.

Happy Autumn!

Mommy Meltdown

Today has been one of those days. One of those days where you cannot take one more grimy toddler hand streaked across your shirt or one more sassy comment or even so much as another simple question like, "Why?" "Why do I have to eat my dinner?", "Why do I have to get my diaper changed?", "Why can't I stand in front of the TV?" "Why can't I eat my boogers?" Why? WHY? WHY? Because, BECAUSE, BECAUSE! Because I effing said so, that's why!!!

I don't want to hear one more whiny word. I don't want even one more single, solitary request to be made of me. There will be no more eating tonight, no more stories and I swear to all that is holy if you get out of bed one more time I will staple your GD diaper to the sheets. I want it to be silent, I want to be left alone and I do not want one more finger to be laid upon me. That means you too, Damonn.

I have been bonked in the head, had my lip split and my fingers stepped on. I have prepared and cleaned and laundered and soothed and disciplined and entertained to the brink of insanity. I don't care if the dog looked at you. I don't care if your sister has one more Goldfish cracker than you do. In fact, at this moment it would take all the gumption I could muster to care if one of you happened to be bleeding. And also - Chutes & Ladders is a stupid, stupid game of perpetual parental torture. AaarrrgggHHH!!

Where is the GD wine? And cookies.

Did You Hear The News?

President Bush has solved all our economic woes. He took a course in Photoshop and has started to print new money - the Zero dollar bill. Let's party like its 1929!

Vote No For Palin

I believe in freedom of speech. It is what allows me to post my thoughts and views on this blog without censorship from the government. I believe in allowing people their own opinions and the opportunity to voice them. Without the opportunity to hear these opinions we miss out on a great depth of perspective, insight and knowledge that comes only from listening to what others have to say. That’s why I allow comments on each of my posts. I will defend these rights to the best of my ability. But there comes a time when as person’s statements become so distorted, so fraught with inaccuracy and hypocrisy, and the stakes become too high, to simply disagree. It becomes your duty as a citizen to make the whole story known.

For those of you that are planning to vote for McCain/Palin because you prefer his plan for the country over Obama’s, I disagree, but I can respect your difference of opinion. But if you are voting for the McCain/Palin ticket because you have been caught up in the folksy, Joe six-pack, tell-it-straight, reformer sensation that has become Sarah Palin, then there are some things you should know. And if you still choose to cast your vote in their direction after you read this, well, I definitely disagree, but at least I’ve done my duty to the American people.

As Gov. Palin does her best to paint Sen. Obama as an associate of domestic terrorism, let’s remember that it is the governor’s husband, Todd that was a card-carrying member of the Alaskan Independence Party until 2002. What is the AIP? It is a radical political party that strives for state autonomy up to and including secession from the union. You know, secession, like southern states did preceding the Civil War? Now, the Palin family didn’t just associate with people of the AIP. Todd Palin joined! And may I also point out that she is on video, as Governor of Alaska, welcoming AIP members to their convention and applauding their efforts (watch below). "Country First"? I don't think so.

When Governor Palin resurrects the divisive comments of Rev. Wright in an attempt to tie Senator Obama to an ideology he has repeatedly denounced, let’s take a listen to comments from Joe Vogler, the founder of AIP as he declares his hatred for the American government. (watch below) Don’t worry; the Palins aren’t currently associating with him. He was murdered in 1993 during a plastic explosives deal gone bad. Hmmm. . . . what would a radical secessionist want with plastic explosives?

When Governor Palin botches former secretary of state, Madeleine Albright’s quote that she lifted from a Starbucks coffee cup in an attempt to garner support for herself at a women's rally, let’s remember how supportive of women she was as Mayor of Wasilla when she made rape victims pay for their own forensic rape kits. And what did she do for them as Governor of a state with the highest rate of sexual assault? She passed a law making it illegal to buy or sell Quentin Tarantino's "rapist" action figure. I'm not even kidding.

When she talks of fiscal responsibility and lowering taxes let’s not forget that she raised the sales tax in Wasilla. Not for schools. Not for forensic rape kits. For a sports complex. A sports complex that was built on land not yet owned outright by the city and after years of court proceedings to get ownership, the city has been left millions of dollars in debt.

When she boasts of taking on Washington-style politics and having an open and transparent government let’s look at how quickly the unanimous, bi-partisan "Troopergate" investigation into her abuse of power as Governor has been shut down. In fact the Attorney General of Alaska – appointed by Palin – was advising government employees to ignore subpoenas to testify in the investigation - at least until Alaska Superior Court told him otherwise. Is this not “Washington-style cronyism” at its best?

And when Sarah Palin reminds us again and again of how she said “no thanks” to that “Bridge to Nowhere” let us remember that she was for it during her run for governor, but changed her mind by the time she got there and the earmark was the laughing stock of the nation and no longer politically advantageous .

When Governor Palin claims to live by Christian principles, she is apparently not referring to Jesus’ request of doing for the least of our brothers; otherwise she would not be ignoring the Native Alaskans in the state’s rural bush region where people live without basic necessities like power, water, schools and police. Where children drown while playing on community sewer barrels because there are no parks – or indoor plumbing. Where there is no working fire truck to put out a fire at the only school. Where there are no police to investigate sexual assaults – or charge people for forensic rape kits.

When she tells that cute story with the great punch line about putting the Governor’s jet on Ebay, it is important to remember that it didn’t actually sell. It was sold later - at a loss.

When she took credit during the vice-presidential debate for divesting state funds out of companies aiding genocide in Darfur, she didn’t mention that it wasn’t her idea. Or that she ignored the request from her representatives for over a year. But bless her socially conscious heart for thinking globally.

When she touts her heritage and experience as a great hunter in Alaska she forgets to elaborate that her idea of hunting includes shooting indigenous wolves from a helicopter.

And last but most certainly not least, when she speaks of foreign policy let’s remember she simply has no idea whatsoever what she is talking about.

This post is not about helping Obama win the White House; he’s doing pretty well with that on his own. This is about protecting our government, our country – our citizens, from the inexperience, hypocrisy and often, out-right lies of Governor Palin. It is about keeping someone pretending to represent the women of America, pretending to support the little guy, and pretending to be a heart-felt patriot out of the White House and out of my government.

Saturday at a rally in Florida Governor Palin declared, “the heels are on, the gloves are off”. Well so be it, lady. But your biggest fight will not be with the Obama campaign. It will be with the informed citizens of this country that are no longer willing to sit back and allow self-serving, narrow-minded, lying nit-wits represent us and our country. We want intelligence. We want compassion. We want leadership. We don’t want you.

I Can't Believe I Just Said That

We've started a new rule in our house. When you are done with dinner you take your plate to the kitchen, then grab a Clorox wipe and wipe down your chair and area at the table. It has been working wonderfully - clean table, engaged kids, family teamwork. Until last night when I was forced to utter this sentence:

"If you guys keep fighting you will both go to a time out! There are plenty of things for both of you to clean!"

Maybe its working a little too well. Sigh.

Older Brothers! Sigh.

After hours of listening to Jamie sing Old MacDonald on auto-repeat usually alternating between a cow and a pig, Adam decided to join in and add his own flair. . . .

Old MacDonald had a farm. EIEIO! And on his farm he had - DIARRHEA! EIEIOOOOWWWW! (both of them laughing hysterically)

Jamie (suddenly very serious and confused): Wat di-REEah?

Leave it to an older brother to take an innocent toddler song and interject Kindergarten potty talk. Boys!

Knit One Save One

I don't remember how I got there, but the other day I came across an advertisement for the Knit One Save One campaign sponsored by Save The Children. Knit One Save One is a grass-roots operation collecting hand-knitted or crocheted hats from all over the U.S. for babies in developing countries. It is part of the larger Survive to 5 campaign that is working to raise awareness of preventable newborn deaths and providing basic health measures to help children survive past their fifth birthday.

Every year, more than 9 million children in the developing world die before they reach the age of 5. That means about 25,000 children under 5 are dying every day! Many of these deaths are from preventable or treatable illnesses like pneumonia, diarrhea, malaria, measles and complications related to childbirth. Nearly four million of these deaths occur to newborns – babies less than one month old. A critical element in the solution is the availability of a local community health worker. Save the Children trains community health workers to deliver life-saving care to women and children in remote areas and provides Better Beginnings for Babies Kits to expectant mothers. These kits contain items to promote better hygiene at delivery and promote proper care of newborns. And this is where Knit One Save One project comes into play. Each Better Beginnings for Babies Kit includes a knitted hat that helps keep a baby warm in those first critical hours and days after birth.

Isn't it amazing that something so simple can help save a life? That's why I decided to get busy. I haven't a clue how to knit, but I did learn to crochet as a little girl. So even though I hadn't picked up a crochet hook in over twenty years, I gave it a shot. It took me a few tries and a refresher course of directions downloaded from the internet, but low and behold - a hat!

It may not be the best looking thing and it is certainly filled with it's share of imperfect stitches, but is also filled with the love and good wishes of one mother to another.

So I'm asking you to join the cause. If you already know how to knit or crochet, fantastic! You'll be able to whip one of these up in a couple of hours. If not, these simple crocheting stitches are super easy to learn - believe me - and you'll have a hat finished in a few evenings. Give it a try. Even if you only make one, even if it isn't pretty, you're still making a difference. Like Mother Teresa always liked to say, “It is not the magnitude of our actions but the amount of love that is put into them that matters.”

Click HERE for some basic crocheting instructions.

Click HERE for more info on the Knit One Save One campaign.

If you don't have the time or ability to knit a hat click HERE to donate a Better Beginnings for Babies Kit. It's only $10!

ROCK THE VOTE!

Rules vary by state but in Oregon, you must be registered by October 14th to vote (for Barack Obama) in the general election on November 4th. So if you aren't yet registered it's time to get on it, people! It's really, really easy. In fact, in Oregon your lazy ass doesn't even have to leave the house - you can register online and we vote (for Barack Obama) by mail! (Click HERE for info if you don't live in Oregon) So even you recluses out there wearing kleenex boxes on your feet and living vicariously through online episodes of The Girls Next Door can make your voices heard without actually talking to a single, real-live person. It doesn't get easier than this. C'mon guys let's make our self-serving, over-indulgent, lazy, American asses, patriotic, self-serving, over-indulgent, lazy American asses for once in our lives!

(Ba)ROCK THE VOTE!

I am voting for Barack Obama and I approve this message.

Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

Adam is apparently auditioning for the lead role in Oliver Twist.

Damonn and I have today off so this morning he took Adam to school rather than dropping him off at daycare before work. As they were walking to class, one of the secretaries flagged Damonn’s attention and asked if we we’re interested in signing Adam up to have breakfast in the mornings before school. She went on to explain that she was asking only because Adam had come to her last week saying that he was hungry and asking to eat breakfast and that she was concerned that he might not be getting it at home.

Damonn thanked her for her concern and then explained to this sweet, unsuspecting secretary, that Adam eats, at a minimum, one breakfast at daycare and on most days another beforehand at home and that most likely it was the idea of going through that cafeteria line that spurred his question rather than actual hunger. We also explained to Adam that two breakfasts before 8:00am is entirely sufficient and that he need not be begging for food at school no matter how cool it seems to eat with “the big kids”.

Although it is beyond embarrassing to have someone think you’re not feeding your kid, it makes me proud and rest more assured that Adam is not afraid to ask for something he needs or wants when we’re not around. As for myself at that age, being ever afraid of causing trouble, making a scene, or simply doing something generally wrong, I would have sat there and died of starvation before asking for food not offered to me and most likely balked at taking it if it was. It’s just nice to know we’re raising a confident, secure kid – with an apparently insatiable appetite.

Filling In Each Other's Paint-By-Numbers

Tonight Damonn and I are getting a little adult time out on the town and as an early anniversary gift to each other, we are heading downtown to the Schnitz to take in a Jackson Browne concert. We both love his music and although Damonn has been to a couple of concerts of his before, this is the first time going together. And there is no better place to see an artist than the Schnitz. It is small, intimate and has great acoustics. It really is the next best thing to having a private concert.

I’ve embedded this video of his song, The Pretender (from his 1976 album of the same name). It is one of our favorites and to Damonn and me this has become kind of a theme song of life. Managing hopes, dreams and the daily grind and doing it all with a person you love.

Damonn – Thank you for being the person who fills in the colors of my paint-by-number. There is no other person I’d want painting this family portrait with me more than you. Happy 9th anniversary, I love you!

Quotable Quotes

From this week:

Pirates aren't bad, they're just like regular people. Except for their skin's peeled off. - Adam

Dat's dingerous! My poop is dingerous! Don touch it! - Jamie

Mom, what do our skidney's do again? - Adam

Drink 'Er Down, Nee-Ner-Nee

Okay everyone, it's been a long week. What with the economy on the brink of disaster, WaMu going tits up as their newly-appointed President floats away on a $18 million parachute, Sarah Palin falling face first in her own pile of BS while talking to Katie Couric and McCain suspending his campaign and ditching David Letterman so he could rush to Washington and play the Greatest American Hero only to end up sitting there looking like a wannabe presidential bobble-head doll. And let's not forget that the Mississippi White Knights have decided to join the crowd at the first Presidential debate tonight. Which makes me feel like someone just punched me in the stomach. What must Michelle Obama be feeling?

I don't know about you, but I could use a drink. Many. So what better time to play the Presidential Debate Drinking Game! The rules are simple: You and at least one opponent pick a different word (one that is certain to be heard - but not too often) and everytime you hear the word spoken during the debates you must take a shot. How about, "My Friends, "Iran", "Bush", "Nuclear", "Maverick", "Allies". Just don't make it the word, "Change" or you'll be drunk before the first round of questioning ends. Then again, if we all pass out we already know who won. At least according to him.

Thanks But No Thanks. . .

Get your shovels ready, people. I'm spoutin' off.

I know my writing ability sometimes limits me to put to paper what is so fervently and passionately swimming in my head, which is one reason I have restrained myself from writing about this topic thus far. I wanted to be able to portray my feelings on Sarah Palin accurately. This morning I came across this article in Newsweek by Sam Harris that does just that.

"The next administration must immediately confront issues like nuclear proliferation, ongoing wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (and covert wars elsewhere), global climate change, a convulsing economy, Russian belligerence, the rise of China, emerging epidemics, Islamism on a hundred fronts, a defunct United Nations, the deterioration of American schools, failures of energy, infrastructure and Internet security … the list is long, and Sarah Palin does not seem competent even to rank these items in order of importance, much less address any one of them."

What I wrote below started as a simple introduction to the article in Newsweek, but as my family can attest, when I start spewing about something I feel so passionately about, I sometimes find it hard to stop. Hey, I warned you to get a shovel.

Nothing in this race for the White House scares me more than the thought of Sarah Palin sitting to the right hand of John McCain. But other than the brief reference to her unique choice in baby names, I have held my tongue in regards to my opinion of her. Until now.

I feel that I have given her a fair chance. I listened to her acceptance speech at the RNC and did my best to keep in mind that it was her job as potential VP to recite a speech written to blast Obama and his campaign with such tired and obvious cliches. And that her shrill, but god-given voice should not be held against her, although the snarky tone she tends to use should be well within her control. I have researched her stand on policy and even agree on some points. And in the beginning I gave her the benefit of the doubt concerning “Troopergate” and the investigation into her abuse of power. Hell, I can’t even say I wouldn’t be tempted to use the same influence to play havoc with the life of someone hurting my sister. But the way that the McCain campaign has sealed up that investigation is just plain scary. I have read articles and blogs on both sides of this surprising VP pick doing my best to understand who Sarah Palin is, and how and where she plans to lead our country, each time reserving judgment as to what I would find. What I have found is amusing at best and at worst, disturbing.

In opinions against her I have read of limited education, potential censorship, mounds of debt left behind from her time as mayor of Wasilla, extreme pro-life attitudes and the all too familiar, “with me or against me” attitude that our country and the world has had to endure for the past eight years under President Bush. The many pro-Palin websites that have popped up over the last month are just as disturbing to me. Many don’t so much talk about any positive achievements of her career, but boast of stands against global warming and wildlife preservation and of pushes for creationism in schools that leave me shivering. But what is most bewildering is how they put her on a pedestal for being an every-day woman, or as www.hockeymomsformccain-palin.com proudly announces as part of their homepage header, “Sarah Palin shares our early-rising, butt-freezing, glass-pounding commitment to our children and communities”. It’s as if she is running for president of the PTA and they are ecstatic they have found someone that understands the chaos of the afternoon pick-up in the school parking lot. DO YOU PEOPLE NOT GET IT? WE ARE TALKING ABOUT THE CHAOS OF THE WORLD!

They love her because she is just like them. Just like their gutsy neighbor who took on town hall. Just like their mother who raised five kids. Just like their sister who worked her way through college little by little. These are all people to be admired, but not one of them is qualified to be Vice President of the United States. And no, I haven’t forgotten about her time as Governor of Alaska. But that is what’s so scary about much of the demographic following her. They aren’t even spouting such credentials. They are rejoicing in her commonalities to their mediocrity! I don’t want someone like me running the country. I barely manage to pull together a birthday party and still can’t pronounce the name of Iran’s President (Mahmoud Ahmadinejad). I want someone that excelled in school, possibly even attended, I don’t know. . . . . HARVARD? Someone that has traveled to, even lived in, other parts of the world, is familiar with and respects more than one religion, that is willing to talk first and shoot later and is ready to acknowledge responsibility for how we are affecting the Earth.

I don’t believe Sarah Palin is a bad person. In fact, in some ways I feel sorry for her. I believe she is a pawn to garner the votes McCain was lacking and that she had no idea what she was getting into when she jumped down the rabbit hole of Rovian-Republican politics. I don’t even have much to go on that she is a particularly bad Governor. She seems qualified for that position. But there is a huge jump between Governor of a state of 600,000 people and being second chair on the world stage. A jump I don’t believe Sarah Palin and her limited world experience is qualified to make.

Please read the entire Newsweek article.

Pictures of anti-Palin rally in Anchorge courtesy www.mudflats.com.

Wanderlust

After having a real, adult, no-kid vacation for the first time in over five years, the travel bug has me itching for more. So what kind of getaway destinations are on my list for the next five years?

Austin/San Antonio, TX
New York City, NY
Nashville/Memphis, TN
Alaska (Cruise?)
Caribbean
The Kentucky Derby

Where would you like to go?

I Don't Think This Is The Image He Was Going For. . .

Whenever Damonn goes out of town for business, I treat the kids to dinner at McDonald's. They get Happy Meals and play on the indoor play structure and I don't have to make dinner. Win-Win. Last night while waiting in line for our food Adam was browsing movies in the Red Box movie dispenser when he spied a well-known celebrity. . . . .

"Hey Mommy, it's Barack Obama!"

Classic Rewind

Today marks the anniversary of Tales of Suburban Reality. Two years and twelve readers later, I'm on track to beat my personal best of 15 posts in a month. Look out, Dooce!

In case you're one of my newbies, here's a few of the oldie but goodies that got this blog started. Enjoy!

Stop! Just Stop!

Lyrical Genius

All Drains Lead To The Ocean

Passing On The Knowledge. . .

So Adam, what kinda fun things did you do in Kindergarten today?

We went to music class!

Oh, wow! That sounds like a lot of fun. What did you do in music class?

We learned what rhythm is.

That's so cool. Do you think you can teach Daddy?

aka Falter Locust Palin

As many of us following the political circus have noticed, Sarah Palin is keen on unique names. Her children's names are as follows: Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper and Trig. Most of them coming from places or things she frequented at the time. Yes, the word is she was very much into running when her first was born. Sigh.

So what would you have been named if you were to have been born into the Palin clan? Click HERE to find out. C'mon, I know you want to know.


Here is my family:

Me - Falter Locust Palin

Damonn - Meat Notgay Palin

Adam - Ammo Canal Palin

Jamie - Stockyard Mudslide Palin

Speaking of Knotting A Noose

The other day while waiting in the doctor's office for the infamous "kindergarten shots" to arrive, Adam was looking through a little tablet of games our pediatrician gave him as a prize for being such a good patient.

"Why does this man have a sad face?" he asked, holding up this picture.



"Ummm. . . uh. . . because he doesn't feel good."

Which got me thinking. . . . . who in the world thought this was a good idea? "Yeah, I don't know, little Billie is having such a time remembering if i goes before e maybe I could come up with a game for him to practice his spelling. Oh, I know, I'll have him guess the letters of the words and each time he misses we'll add a body part to this here gallow drawing until he's spelled the word or has a whole dead body hanging up there. Oh, this will be such fun. We could even teach it in all the schools across the country so everyone can practice spelling by drawing dismembered body parts. It'll be a sensation!

Why didn't we think this was creepy when we were kids?

Because We Could All Use A Laugh Today. . .

With the way this has spread like wildfire across the internet since Saturday night, you've probably already had a chance to see it, but just in case you've been too busy knotting your own noose while watching your 401k accounts go down the drain, I'll post it here. Because nobody does politics and humor better than SNL and this one is spot on.

Back In Captivity

Well, for those of you that don't know already, I am back from DC. And every night I've been meaning to write, but between loads of laundry, sorting through my pictures and the first cold of the season that Jamie has already brought home, there has been some delay.

The trip was wonderful and just the break from everyday life that I was needing. I toured all the monuments on Thursday battling 95 degree heat and extremely high humidity. I now know what it would be like to walk around in those big puffy clouds in the sky. Utterly suffocating. And being the stupid sun-deprived Oregonian I am, I forgot my sunscreen. Yeah. One side of my neck looks like a big, peeling hickey.

But seeing the monuments was amazing. The somber stare of Abraham Lincoln. The views from the top of the Washington Monument. The endless list of names etched on the Vietnam Memorial wall. More than once I found myself suddenly tearing. Especially at The Wall -as the Vietnam Memorial is simply referred to. As I stood mesmerized by the sea of one-inch names etched on a wall that towered over my head and over 200ft to each side of me, I overheard a tour guide explaining that this one row in front of us, a full three-by-ten foot section of granite held the names of soldiers killed in just one four-month period. Simply unimaginable.

By Saturday, the weather had changed completely. Well, almost. The humidity was still hanging around but Tropical Storm Hanna decide to drop by as well. You would think being a native Oregonian I would know about rain. I know not of rain like this. There is no weapon against such a downpour. Not umbrella, not poncho, perhaps not even shelter. Thank goodness I had checked the weather before I left and planned to be indoors at museums for the entire day. First stop - National Archives.

Most of the museums in DC don't open until 10am so I was there waiting when they opened huddled under a small vestibule with a handful of other brave hearts. When the doors opened we all scattered to different sections of the museum, myself heading straight to the rotunda that houses our country's most coveted documents. And because of my eagerness, except for the guards, I actually had the room to myself. I stood there for just a moment surrounded by grand paintings of our Founding Fathers and overcome by the same grandeur and deafening silence you find in an empty church. Yes, a church. A church of brilliance and truth and honor and determination and sacrifice. The moment took my breath away. And then, there in front of me it stood: The Declaration of Independence. The Declaration of Independence. Faded, yet those unequivocal words and many of the signatures still legible and declarative. And to it's right, one of the most brilliant, forward-thinking and withstanding documents ever created: The Constitution of the United States of America. I know, I know I'm on history geek overload. Tell me something my husband hasn't.

The rest of the day was spent dashing from building to cab to building, submerging my feet each time in the five or so inches of water that was running down the streets. After a quick visit to the Air & Space museum including a rather disturbing IMAX film on black holes, I was ready to call it a day and find some dry socks.

I'd love to go back again someday, hopefully with the kids in tow. Especially Adam, my little pint-sized politico. And then he can see for himself, that "big house that's white".

I'm Sorry I Asked

Yesterday at Costco. . . .

Damonn: Jamie, what are you eating?

Jamie: My boogers.

Let Freedom Ring

Well, I'm off to Washington, D.C. this morning. And honestly, I think it takes more work to leave the kids behind than it does to bring them along. Several days of planning and four pages of notes later, I think my sister will have the information she needs to stave off any attempts of mutiny.


As for posting while I'm gone, unfortunately, my cell phone cannot be set up for mobile blogging, but I can, and will be sending in Twitters through out the trip. So keep your eye to the right of the screen to see what I'm doing now in our nation's great capitol. I'll have pictures and more details when I return, but for now, I'm free! I'm free! I'M FREE!

5 Years Minus 4 Days =

This morning Adam stood tall with all the other bright and shiny 5-year old faces for Kindergarten orientation. This moment was a culmination of a six month battle with the school district to allow him to start this year rather than next. Actually, if you want to get technical, this all started 4 years and 362 days ago when Adam decided to make his entrance into the world nine days past his due date putting him four days past the school district’s deadline for kindergarten acceptance. And as Damonn and I have said many times over the last few months, if we had known the hassle that awaited us over a mere four days we would have pushed for the induction of labor a week earlier. Then we would have had the option of telling Ms. Principle to blow it out her ass rather than having to wait politely to talk to her while she took phone calls on the other side of her desk during our appointment. But such is life. Instead we had to endure her insulting insinuations of bad parenting because we did not want to hold Adam back a year as “most parents in this district prefer to do”. When we asked why parents make that choice she responded with, “Because they prefer that their children succeed”. Well la-di-effin-dah! And when I asked to see the curriculum of the kindergarten classes to see how it compared to what he was learning in pre-school she said that "it’s better for the parents to leave the ‘three R’s’ to the school and for parents to focus on the ‘three D’s’ – drugs, dating and discipline”. It was at this point that Damonn began to kick me under the table in a rather feeble attempt to squash the snide remarks he was sure were about to start rolling off my tongue. I heeded his warning and made it out the front doors before every thoughtful, revengeful, explicit retort that was rolling around in my head came spewing out of my mouth into a vulgar puddle at my feet.

And although the next few months were not as insulting, they were often times just as frustrating as each time we needed to make an appointment or get any information it took multiple calls to the district, to the school, to the secretaries, just to get a response. So long in fact that even though we started this process in February, they were not able, or willing, to schedule Adam to take the necessary admittance exam until June. Which meant that Adam was the only kid in his pre-school class left behind when all of his friends loaded the bus for Kindergarten Round-up in May. This was the night I thought about filling Ms. Principle’s mailbox with rice pudding. But decided on horse shit instead.

Finally that day in June came and I took yet another day off work and Adam and I met up with the district psychologist. He was to take a two-hour exam covering academics, psychology, reasoning and physical capabilities. And when the test started off by asking Adam to identify his colors – colors he’s known since he was 18mos old – I couldn’t help but groan at the $400 we were shelling out to prove that he was as smart and capable as someone four days older. Overall, Adam did very well on the exam. He tested extremely high on reading and above average on reasoning and writing. His only trouble came during the questions on math. He understands the logic that if you have five things and take two things away you are left with three things, but since his pre-school has not broached the subject of written equations he had no idea what “1+1=___” means. The psychologist tried to help, pointing to each part of the equation, “If you have one and you add another one to it what do you get?” “An Eleven!” Adam announced proudly.

And because of this inexperience in mathematics, Adam did not get the required 97% on the exam. (Since when is an A+ required for a passing grade?) But our moment of grace came when Ms. Principle retired and a much more reasonable, likeable and pleasant man became principle in July. After (one more) meeting with Adam and a review of his test he said that he thought Adam would do just fine in Kindergarten and that we could review his progress at the October conferences. Finally!

So after catching up on information about forms and vaccinations and school supplies that we missed out on during the May Kindergarten roundup, Adam was ready, willing and accepted for Kindergarten Orientation this morning. And as I watched him color and cut his teddy bear art project along with all his new- found classmates, I thought about the journey that brought us here, knowing that it was all worth it. But that he’s on his own getting into college.