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.

You're Not As Stupid As You Look. . .

As you may have gathered I am a frequent reader of CNN.com and of their political ticker. Not so much because I think they are the end-all-be-all of political reporting, but because it is an easy place to stop and gather the news on a daily basis. My morning newspaper if you will. I recently came across a commentary written by Ruben Navarrette, one of their regular contributers. I have read many of his articles. He seems to be an intelligent man and his commentaries have pushed me towards deeper thinking and research on several topics and even had me nodding my head in agreement on a few, but this one. . . . Well, I think he really missed his mark on this one. (Read the entire article HERE)

"Obama (in his acceptance speech) settled on a hybrid of left-right economic theory that sounded like a bundle of contradictions. Obama talked about "America's promise," the belief that "through hard work and sacrifice, each of us can pursue our individual dreams but still come together as one American family, to ensure that the next generation can pursue their dreams as well."

He explained it as "the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise and fall as one nation" and described it as blending "individual responsibility and mutual responsibility." Simply put: You have to do what you can for yourself, but that you also have to do for others.

There is the rub: If everyone were to adhere to the first part, there will be no need for the second. Besides, even if we buy the idea that, as Obama said, "I am my brother's keeper, I am my sister's keeper," there is still the question of whether government should do the keeping."

Mr. Navarrette, nothing irritates me more than when a person feigns stupidity to defend an argument. And that is exactly what you're doing. I find it impossible to believe - being that you attended graduate school - that you cannot understand the concept put forth by Senator Obama that there is, and that we need, a balance between personal, government and community responsibility. Yes, parents need to be responsible for making sure their children attend school and complete their homework. And yes, the government needs to supply adequate funding and a framework for a 21st century education. And yes, as citizens of a community we need to step up fill in the gaps between parental and government support by volunteering in the classrooms, on the soccer fields and as leaders of extracurricular activities. It needs to be a joint venture. A joint venture that goes beyond education and extends to areas of the environment and the economy and energy and disaster preparedness for threats from both mother nature and our enemies. Perhaps your time in David Gergen's classroom did not provide you the competency to understand the simple premise of teamwork. That's okay, Mr. Navarrette, because Senator Obama is a professor in his own right. And after Nov. 4th class will be in session.

Dreaming Of Our Golden Years. . . .

Adam: So are we going to buy it?

Me: Not today.

Adam: Well, when are we going to buy it?

Damonn: When we're finished paying for your college.

All of us: Sigh.

Damonn and I WILL one day own of these little gems and tour the United States in comfort and compactness. Because in a Sprinter/Airstream conversion van not only can you cool a drink and heat a meal, but you can park it in any standard parking spot. An invaluable asset to two people who are challenged in the ability to parallel park. And this baby even gets 22mpg!

I Never Knew Larry King Wore Glasses. . . . .

We were probably the last household on the block to still have an old, heavy CRT TV, but tonight we have stepped into the 21st century. That's right, we are now the proud owners of a 37" Toshiba HDTV. And because we are parents that believe in giving everything we can to our children, everything that is, except access to the best electronics, this new high definition beauty has been made to feel right at home at the foot of our own bed. It is sitting high atop the armoire so that we may bask in the glory of its light. And the clarity, oh the clarity. Even without HD Dish capabilities (hey, I said we stepped into the 21st century) it is amazing. But what can you expect when you're used to a TV that was around to display images of the first Gulf War.

Tattooed On My Brain Like a Misspelled Word

Conversation while watching Larry King last night. . . .

Larry King: And when we come back, John Rich, half of the duo Big & Rich talking about the song he wrote for the McCain campaign.

(Goes to commercial playing one line of the new song)

Me: Did you hear that? That one line of song ended in “train”. You know what they’re going to do. They’re going rhyme it with McCain.

Damonn: Oh god, really?

Me: Of course they are. It’s going to be something about getting on the train with McCain.

Damonn: Ugh.

Larry King: We’re back now with John Rich who wrote this song for the McCain campaign. Here’s a glimpse. . . .

(The song plays complete with video of him singing, a neon American flag, hot girls holding McCain signs, and a diamond studded microphone stand): “Get on the train or get out of the way, we’re all just raisin’ McCain.”

Me: Oh sweet Jesus, it’s worse than I thought. It includes a bad pun.

Damonn: Why would they use something so lame?

Me: Because every country song in the last ten years includes a bad pun and the rednecks eat it up. And when they step into the voter’s booth they won’t know the facts behind one single issue but they’ll remember this damn song.

Damonn: Ugh.

Me: This is what its come down to. This is how Obama will lose. To a half-rate song probably written in five minutes on a cocktail napkin. Not to a difference in policy. Not to rhetoric. Not even to negative ads filled with lies. He’ll lose to this damn song you can’t get out of your freakin’ head!

I'm So Happy I'm Drooling!

This single sentence from Adam pretty much sums up our trip to the lake. It came about as the four of us we're sitting on the floor for a wild game of Go Fish! when Jamie decided to suddenly roll around on top of all the cards shouting "Applesauce! Applesauce!" for no apparent reason until we were all laughing uncontrollably, at least one of us to the point of drooling. And this was before we broke out the game of Pass The Pigs. You ain't seen nothin' till someone hits a double leaning jowler!

And so it went for the four days we were at the lake. Silliness, laughing, swimming, fishing, sugar cereal and no real schedule. Well, that's not exactly true. We kept Jamie on her naps and both the kids were in bed by 8:00pm just like at home which I think was the real key to our successful vacation. 'Cause I don't care how many Mike's Hard Lemonade's are available, no one has fun with kids that melt into a weepy pile of Ritz snack crackers and snot at the mention of the word, "No".

One of the few things that we wanted to make sure and do while we were there was take the Wallowa Lake Tram up to the top of Mt. Howard. Damonn was not looking forward to this. It is a 15-minute ride rising 3700ft to a summit of 8200ft and he is not a big fan of heights. But he carried on like a trooper only noticeably gasping near the end of the ride as we crossed a ravine and the distance to the ground became much more staggering. There is actually a restaurant at the top but we only had time for a quick walk around the summit to feed the squirrels and do some more gasping at the in-cred-i-ble views. They say you can see Oregon, Washington and Idaho from up there, but it all looks the same from 8000ft. I really could have stayed up there all day just staring into the valley and watching the hawks glide on the air currents. It felt like standing at the top of the world being free from everything. . . . which was enhanced further by the fact that I exerted no physical energy getting there. But alas, some of the friends that shared the cabin with us were getting light headed from the altitude and the tram was about to make the last trip of the day so we climbed back into the little metal car and descended back down to the valley and the safety of solid ground.

We spent the rest of our time fishing on the lake, riding bumper boats, battling for air hockey bragging rights, playing Frisbee and eating. Not even the rain on the third day could hinder our spirits. (We are Oregonians, after all) We just pulled out the craft kits we brought along for just such an occasion and chowed on microwave smores. The only drawback to such a happy, relaxing vacation is the pressure to live up to it next year! Oh, to have such a worry.

One Man's Old Is Another Man's Vintage. . .

Adam: Is that a Volkswagen Bus in front us of, Momma?

Me: No, that's just a regular van.

Adam: (as we get closer) Oh yeah, 'cause a Volkswagen Bus always has those old curtains in the windows.

Oh, How I Missed the Internet. . .

We're back, exhausted but smiling. I planned to Twitter throughout the trip but there was no AT&T wireless coverage so I was stuck without the internet or a phone. How did I make it without checking the CNN Politcal Ticker?? Gasp! We had a great time but now comes the unpacking and the mountain of laundry. Details of the trip to come in the next few days. . . . .

See Ya Later Alligator. . . .

We're leaving for vacation . . . . . finally. the bags are packed, the kids are loaded (almost) and after one last stop for coffee we're headed to Wallowa Lake in Eastern Oregon. Never been there but I've heard it's beautiful. Talk to ya next week!

Another Person I'd Like To Kick in the Teeth

On the phone today with our pediatrician's office:

Me: I’m checking back because I called a couple of days ago to see if my son needed anymore shots before he starts Kindergarten this year and I haven’t heard back from anyone.

Woman: Mmmm. . . Let me check. Nope, he’s all up to date.

Me: Really? I thought at his check-up last year they said he would need two more shots before he starts school this year.

Woman: Yes, he’ll need two more at his 5-year check-up.

Me: So he does need two more shots before he starts school?

Woman: Yes. He will get them at his 5-year check up.

Me: Yes, but his birthday and his check-up aren’t until a week after school starts so can we come in early just to get the shots?

Woman: No, we can’t give them until he’s five.

Me: He’s five in like, two weeks.

Woman: We can’t give them to him until he’s five.

Me: But the school district requires that he have them before he starts so what should I do?

Woman: (Silence)

Me: You guys won’t give me the shots and the school won’t let him start without them so WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST I DO?

Woman: I’ll send the question back to the nurse, but I really don’t know how to help you.

I so don't need this shit right now.

Life. . . On Repeat

Where did the lazy days of summer that I was just posting about float off to? I don't know, but the month of August revved it's engine and has taken off without me. I was going to write a little something about the current chaotic stress I'm feeling right now, but then remembered I already did. . . . . two years ago. Click HERE to read the original post and feel free to replace any of the "things to do" in that post with one of these:

Dental Visits. Vaccinations. School Supplies. Sprained Toes. Birthday Gifts. Vacation Plans. Computer Crashes. Insurance Benefits. Conference Calls. Shoe Shopping. Vet Bills.

Same bullshit, different day. Actually, same chaos, different bullshit.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Comments Please

It has been brought to my attention by some readers of this site that they, and perhaps others, are not commenting as much as they'd like because they don't have a Blogger/Google account with which to log in. In the case that this might be true, I wanted to make sure that everyone is aware that they do not need an account to leave a comment.

After clicking on the word Comments at the end of any post, simply choose either the button for Name/URL and type in any name or web address you like, or choose Anonymous to remain completely incognito.

Because even though I may live to regret my request for more comments (not all comments will be nice comments), I would love to get your feedback on the topics of this site. So please, use your voice, man!

The Emerson Address

The Rick Emerson Radio Program
(as mentioned in this Things I Love post)

6/6/6 brought you Horns Across the Hawthorne.

7/7/7 brought you Vanilla Ice, live on stage.

And now, 8/8/8 brings you the greatest event in the history of human evolution… (so says their website)

The Emerson Address.

On Friday, August 8th, 2008, at 2pm, we need every radio, every speaker, and every webstream in existence to be tuned to AM 970, and The Rick Emerson Show will broadcast a live, specially-prepared message to the entire city of Portland…and beyond.No matter where you are…no matter what it takes…at 2pm on Friday, August 8th, find every single radio you can…turn them up, and help us beam our message to every single person in the state…and the world.

One day…one message…and every radio on Earth.The Emerson Address…happening at 2pm on 8/8/8.

Be ready to listen!

I'm Blushing. . . .

Someone referenced my Valentine's Day post at BlogHer.com. It's like when that cute boy says hello to you in the hall. . . . . then reads a poem from your diary in front of everyone.

See the article HERE.

Have You Ever Seen Cuter Metatarsals?

Last night we found ourselves traveling down one of those unexpected detours of life. One minute the kids are playing joyfully in the water feature at the park and the next minute another mom is asking if the crying blonde girl is mine. Yes - the fact that she was not actually in my line of sight when the accident occured is something I would be asked to admit several times over the next few hours to every doctor, every nurse and someone with the odd title of "registrar". Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but they all seemed to be asking for the same details over and over. What time did this happen? What was she doing when this happened? Where were you when it happened? Have you ever felt like abusing your child before today? Okay, the last one wasn't actually asked, but I knew what they were getting at. I mean, I understand why they need to ask these questions and I love that there is a saftey net for children in trouble, but it doesn't help me to not imagine all of them meeting in the break room later to compare notes on my story. 3:30? She told me 3:00. Call the authorities!

Actually the ER staff was great. They were very gentle and pleasant with Jamie and didn't even seem to mind her absolute hysterics during the X-ray procedure. Of course the technician will be telling friends and family the story of the little blonde two-year old who, in the middle of her mother tying to coax (wrestle) her onto the bed for X-rays, pulled free, looked her mother straight in the eye and proceeded to slap the very person who brought her into this world across the face. Yep, that's one for the dinner parties.

Other than this blatant act of maternal humiliation, Jamie was in surprisingly good spirits - until you tried to get her to stand. At which point she would pull up her foot and start calling for help in the most heart-breaking manner. Something along the lines of a wounded lamb with a pink bow and curls. But after three hours of singing nursery rhymes, too much poking and prodding from the doctor and the results of the X-rays, she was diagnosed with a sprain rather than any broken bones. So they wrapped her up in an ace bandage, gave her a couple stickers and sent us on our way with the adorable x-ray you see above. Today, Jamie still won't stand, but is at home with her doting father who is more than happy to wait on her hand and - foot.

Oh, and for those of you that noticed the latest twitter. . . . The triage nursed didn't want to send us back out into the waiting room to wait for a room so she asked if we needed to have a TV in our room. I said no so she escorted us to the end of the hall, into a small room and then ever so casually said, "I'll just prop this door open with a chair so it doesn't lock you inside." I looked around and noticed that the blinds for the window were on the outside and all the equipment in the room had the ability to be locked behind a metal gate. "You're putting us in the psych ward?" "It's a safe room", she clarified. "A psych room", I countered. "No, a SAFE room", she said again with a smile, arranging the chair in the door. How is it she knows us so well?

Serendipity. . .

Sometimes I find myself trying so hard to create family moments that the event becomes something no one really even wants to participate in. Dr. Seuss birthday parties, “special” picnics in the park and family art projects come to mind. Other times I find myself smack dab in the middle of an incredible family connection without the least bit of forethought. The energy so vibrant you’d almost expect to get a static shock from it.

And so it was last night. The kids were fresh from baths and snuggling into our bed for a little TV. I slipped Curios George, a movie we had just recently found again while cleaning out a closet, into the DVD player and just as I was about to hit play to start the actual movie, Adam yelled, “Stop! I want to hear all of this song.” I was surprised because as far I knew he had never heard this song before, but he was adamant about listening to it. Just then Damonn walked in the room and said, “Hey I remember this song.” And before I knew it our whole family was singing and dancing to the Curious George theme song, Jack Johnson’s, Upside Down.

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

As I watched my family dancing, each one a different dance, time slowed and I could feel the lyrics, the music and the moment being etched into my memory. Jamie’s golden curls bouncing in every direction around her head as she jumped and screeched in sheer delight. Adam fumbling to learn the words of a song he instantly loved draped in the hooded towel he’s had since birth. Damonn awkwardly moving his body to the offbeat of the music, dancing the way only he does. These are the moments you look forward to when you dream of having children, when you dream of making a family. And slowly, for some of us very slowly, we learn they can’t be created or planned. They will simply happen and you only have to be ready to live them.

Keeping Me Between The Lines. . . .

A recent email exchange between me and Damonn:

Me: I think I'd like to get a couple of chickens to keep in our backyard.

Damonn: I feel like my life is full at this point without adding chickens to our backyard. Perhaps you should concentrate on Snowflake and Linus (our two bettas). Particularly since just last night the cleaning of two fish bowls was more responsiblity than you wanted to handle.

Things I Love. . .

It took me several tries to write this post. Not because I couldn’t find the words to describe these heavenly morsels but because every time I started to think about them I would go into some kind of salivary daydream broken only by the drool dripping onto my hands still poised over my keyboard in mid-sentence. This trance is similar to what happens when I open a bag of these crispy devils. I become lost in their savory goodness and the next thing I know my hand is hitting the bottom of the empty bag, fingers digging furiously for those tiny, tiny crumbs way down in the corners. Thank god my head won’t fit in the bag. My only reprieve in this bender of carbs and grease is when I stop to gulp a refreshing beverage that is necessary to curb the onslaught of sodium attacking my tongue. In fact that is my word of advice to you upon trying this bewitching blend flavors: make sure that you do NOT have any potable liquid near you. Don’t even sit near the fish tank. It is your only salvation against following the same path of shame and gluttony that has befallen me. And if you don't believe me. . . take it from the bag itself. . . . .

WHEN MUSTARD MET HONEY
Dijon mustard is sophisticated and a bit snooty. Honey is sweet and wild. Sparks fly when they meet… it’s love at first sight. Honey mellows and softens mustard’s sharp edge. Yes, we know, we’re talking about potato chips here. But take a bite of these sweet, savory lovelies and you just might get obsessed. We are.

BUY THEM NOW AT MOST GROCERIES STORES!

Sunny Days Are Here Again. . . .

I love this picture. It depicts what summer should be. Barefeet and watermelon, skinned knees and sprinklers in your underwear. And it reminds me of what summer has felt like for our family this year as well. We've seen parades and been in parades, had picnics in parks and in our own backyard. We've eaten ice cream, elephant ears and fruit kabobs. We've run through sprinkers (all four of us, but only two in our underwear) and wrestled in the grass until we laughed ourselves silly. We've gathered friends for BBQ's and family for reunions and welcomed more babies than I ever thought possible. But even with this plethora of activities, this has somehow been one of our most relaxed summers in years. Maybe beause the kids are getting older? Maybe because we aren't scheduled to the hilt? Maybe it's just my outlook on life at the moment. But whatever it is, it has allowed even the busy days of summer to stay pleasant, enjoyable and most of all, fun. And the best part? It's only half over.

Circles In My Head

You know when you have so many things to do that you don't know where to start and you just kinda keep turning in circles looking for the end, or is it the beginning, of the ridiculously unending daisy-chain of a to-do list that lays before you? This has been both figuratively and literally true for the last two weeks. Some busy good, some busy bad, some just busy. And I have several things I want to write about, but I'm just not finding the time. So bear with me because I really want to tell you about our fabulous 4th of July. And Adam's 5-month quest for Kindergarten admittance. And all of Jamie's intriguing, hilarious and futilely frustrating new personality quirks. I really do. And I will. So if I can just get that load of laundry started before the kids go to bed then I can . . . . . . and then. . . . and then. . . . .

In the meantime, check out our new family photo in the upper right corner. No one's crying, everyone has a shirt on and you can't even see the schmutz on Jamie's face.

A Handsome Young Gent. . . .

Announcing the grand entrance of . . . . .

Blake Hamilton

July 11, 3:13pm

7lbs, 11oz.

The first son of our good friends Joel and Adele, this fine young lad came bounding into the world in just seven minutes on July 11th (7/11), weighing 7lbs, 11oz. Keep this kid away from the craps table!

Baby Blake is the sixth (sorry, not the seventh) and final delivery in our family/friends baby bonanza. And after months of waiting, he also makes Lily a very lucky (and proud) big sister! All our congrats on your beautiful boy.

Exceeding Expectations. . . .

Adam: Are you happy Momma?

Me: Oh yes, Adam. I'm so happy that I get to do fun things with you and Daddy and Jamie this weekend.

Adam: No, no, no. Are you so happy that Jamie got in trouble this time and it wasn't me??

A Million Times Better Than Listening to a Piccolo Pete. . .

I first heard this song a few years back on CMT. I immediately downloaded it and spent the next several weeks toe-tapping my way through the chorus. Months later, a crashed hard drive ate my copy of Shooter Jennings', 4th of July (from his Put the O Back in Country album) and it somehow faded from my memory as well. It wasn't until Rick Emerson mentioned it on his website a few months ago saying how it was one of those songs you just wish you had written yourself, that I remembered this infectious concoction of country and southern rock and immediately added it back to my collection. Not only is 4th of July a perfect song for today, but is an anthem for every crazy road trip with friends, every bittersweet teenage crush and every lazy, going-nowhere-fast afternoon that summer brings.

Unfortunately they wouldn't let me embed the song here so you'll have to click on the link below to watch the video. Just try not tapping your toes, it's impossible.

LISTEN HERE!

Life, Liberty and Happiness to all!

Happy 4th of July!

Do You Twitter?

Take a look to the left and you'll notice something new. My recent Twitter posts. What's Twitter? I'm so glad you asked. According to Wikipedia, Twitter is " a free social networking and micro-blogging service that allows users to send "updates" (or "tweets"; text-based posts, up to 140 characters long) to the Twitter web site, via the Twitter web site, text messaging or instant messaging."

In short, it allows me to post small immediate updates to the blog via IM, text or email when I don't have time to log on and write a full entry or I just have to let you know what is going on right now. Like when Jamie screams, "Beeg Fuck! Beeg Back Fuck!" across the daycare parking lot in front of at least three parents. Yes Jamie, that's a big black truck. Humiliation like this just has to be shared. Immediately.

You can see the last three updates from this page or click on "What was I doing earlier?" to see a complete history. And if you don't happen to have your own life you can even subscribe to get my latest updates as text messages on your phone. How intrusively 21st century is that?

My Little Cannibal. . . .

"Adam, do you need your fingernails trimmed?"

"No, they're already short because I chewed them off."

"I wish you would stop that."

"I can't stop."

"I know, it can be really hard to stop biting your nails."

"Well, I can't stop because skin is meat and I like meat. "

Things I Love

In the fall of 1999 a new drama depicting the inner workings of the White House and the staffers that make it run debuted on NBC. The previews looked interesting and I recognized a couple of faces (Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe) so I decided to give it a try. I remember being pleasantly surprised enough by the first episode that I was present for the second. By the third episode of The West Wing Damonn and I were hooked. For the next four years* Wednesday nights at 8:00 were reserved for POTUS (President of the United States), our newly minted nickname for our newly designated favorite show. We watched in silence, hanging on every word, using only commercials (in our pre-Tivo days) for discussion and commentary. As the seasons passed, Josh, Sam, Leo, C.J. and Toby became as familiar to us as the people at our own jobs and President Josiah Bartlet came to personify my ideal president. He became my POTUS.

Nearly ten years later, I am again drawn in by the wit, humor, passion and patriotism of this same cast of characters and mesmerized once again by the masterful writing of Aaron Sorkin – without whom, The West Wing surely suffers. And I just recently became aware that Mr. Sorkin is also the wordsmith of two more of my favorites, The American President and A Few Good Men. Not to mention Sports Night and Malice. Is there anything this guy writes that isn’t brilliant?

All seven seasons are now available on DVD, the second of which I just finished yesterday. The final episode of this second season, The Two Cathedrals, might just be the best hour television has ever seen. I have included two segments of it below along with another one of my favorites from Season 1. All of them are good examples of the writing, acting, and direction that make The West Wing one of the Things I Love the most.

As segment from The Season 2 Finale. After the death of a long-time friend, President Bartlet confronts God in his own house.




The final minutes of the Season 2 finale. President Bartlet walks to a press confrence moments after announcing an administration scandal. Dire Straight's "Brother In Arms" is the perfect song choice to portray the loyalty of his staff as they head onto the battlefield of re-election and scandal.



One of my favorite moments of Season 1. The Religious Right get shown the door by President Bartlet.


*The West Wing aired for seven seasons (1999-2006) but we only watched for four. The start of the fifth season coincided with the novelty and relentless schedule of a new baby (Adam) and the fact the Aaron Sorkin was no longer writing for the show. Somehow those Wednesday nights became less and less of a priority.

Happy Birthday Mr. President. . . .

In my email this morning I found this. Apparently they missed the memo about my switch to the Democratic Party. But I'm glad they did because although I won't be shelling out the $62+ plus for our dear president, I do have a few words I'd like to pass along.

And one question. . . . how exactly will Mrs. Bush be "presenting" an ecard? Maybe that's code for saying he doesn't know how to use Outlook.


Dear Tiffany ,

In a few short days, President Bush will celebrate his 62nd birthday. Don't miss out on your opportunity to wish the President a Happy Birthday by signing the RNC's eCard today.

As this is the last birthday the President will observe in the White House, our Party wants to make this an extra special occasion. Mrs. Bush will be presenting our President with this birthday greeting from steadfast supporters like you, Tiffany . To be included in this unique celebration, please click here.

And if you can, please consider commemorating President Bush's 62nd birthday with a gift our entire Party can share. Your secure online gift of $62 or whatever you can afford -- $1,000, $500, $100 or even $25 -- is essential to electing John McCain and Republicans up and down the ticket.

It will take the collective commitment of every Republican to retain the White House and regain our majorities in the U.S. House and Senate. Your special donation will help fund the vital campaign services our candidates need to run strong campaigns and win.

Please add your name to the RNC's virtual Birthday eCard for President Bush today. Thank you for your continued generous support of our Party and our cause.

Sincerely,



Robert M. "Mike" Duncan
Chairman, Republican National Committee

P.S. Tiffany , this is your last chance to join the First Lady in making this an extra special birthday celebration for our President. Please take a moment right now to sign the President's Birthday eCard. Thank you.

Can You Say FREEDOM?!?

I am going to WASHINGTON, D.C.!! Let me repeat that. I AM GOING TO WASHINGTON, D.C. You know, that city on the east coast that is the home to the real, actual Declaration Of Independence? I will be there galavanting freely among the memorials sans kids and responsibility for three whole days. Damonn is attending an AARP convention for work there in September so I will be shacking up with him by night and skipping down Pennsylvania Ave by day. Honestly, I would be happy to be visiting a Motel 6 in Yuma, AZ if it meant three days to myself, but for an American history junkie like myself (I bought myself the DVD box set The Presidents for my birthday) to have access to the nation's most treasured memorials and artifacts is like coming home to the mother ship. Dead Presidents, here I come!!

And Baby Makes Four. . . .

. . . . . for my good friend Misha and her husband Luke. May I introduce. . . . .

William Davis

June 18th, 9:50am
6lbs, 14oz

Baby Will also makes Norah a big sister and it looks like she is already taking to the role like a champ! And if you take a look, you'll notice that Will's birthday is the same as my new niece Katelyn (below). Yep, we were blessed with two beautiful babes on one day! Five down, one to go of the six friends/family we know having babies within six months!

Announcing To The World. . . .

Katelyn Robin

Born June 18th, 5:15am
8lbs, 9oz

Arriving in a whirlwind four-hour delivery, Katelyn is the newest addition to our growing group of cousins and the first baby for my brother Jason and his wife Lindi. Congratulations to you both, she's a beauty!

If You Were To Peek In Our Living Room Window. . .

You'd see us getting down with our bad selves on almost any night of the week. You gotta love Adam's Napolean Dynamite-esque dance moves. . . . .

Here Comes The Sun. . . .

. . . . . Doo-do-di-doo. . . . .

So after crybabying about the weather a couple posts back the sun decided to go a make me eat my words and be sunny all weekend. Which is fine with me. I'm happy to slurp up anything I said, mushy vowels and all, if he'll just hang around for a few more days. You know, just so we can say we officially had a summer. Whoah - hold on, there I go talkin' trash about that big ol' ball of luscious UV again. I'm sorry, I take it back. Please don't go.

Yes, this past weekend was fabulous. I dare say, perfect. Sunny, 75, a couple of puffy clouds just to keep that brilliant blue sky from being, I don't know, boring. And by all accounts from Damonn, he had great Father's Day as well. We played in the park at least three times, once meeting his brother and his lovely girlfriend (his brother's not Damonn's) to play frisbe and eat lunch. We also made it to the aforementioned Tigard Balloon Festival which turned out to be one of the best yet. Because of the great weather they were able to get six balloons heated up and glowing. They don't actually take off (they do that in the mornings), but keep them heated and tethered so you can go right up and check them out. Oh, and while we're on the subject of hot air balloons, let me just say I won't be taking that ride across the French countryside. THOSE BASKETS ARE WAY TINIER THAN THEY LOOK IN PICTURES!

But the best part of the weekend was Sunday evening when I came down with a funny rash on my arms. It actually took me a second to realize. . . . .I had a sunburn. How cool is that?

Please Stand By. . . .

Posts on Father's Day and more are forthcoming but in the meantime please read this. It is from Dooce.com but is written by guest writer, Jim Griffioen of Sweet Juniper. He has managed a group of words that contain more hilarity and truth than I've seen in a month. He had me at "polychromatic pubes" and by the time I got to the phrase "only the faint sound of a unicorn braying hints that someone inside might be struggling to empty her colon", I was willing to bear his third child. You just don't get writing like this on CNN.com

http://www.dooce.com/2008/06/13/rite-passage

Winter Blues. . . .

I must apologize for my recent lack of, and lack-luster posting. I have no other excuse except that my life, as of late, is a direct reflection of these posts: boring and tedious. Please feel comfort in the fact that I am not ignoring this site (or you) and that if my life was at all eventful and I was, say, touring France by hot air balloon, changing the world by teaching pygmy children to knit or was involved in even a minimal battle with a chronic case of toe jam, you would know about it. But alas, I seem to be in some kind of parental parade down Groundhog’s Day Lane.


And Groundhog’s Day (the movie) it is. Each day my family presses our noses against rain-streaked windows looking for the slightest ray of sunshine, hoping that this will be the day we can don our new summer sandals. Sandals that have grown dusty in our entryway while waiting to tramp through bright green lawns steaming in the new spring sun. Sandals that are also waiting to Velcro themselves to my children’s very impolite feet which are climbing the walls with the bitter boredom of an extended winter.

In less rambunctious moments, Adam and Jamie, stand at the sliding glass window, Frisbee in hand in a perfect portrayal of the first page of Cat in the Hat. “Too wet to go out, And too cold to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all.” I know, I know you’re asking the same question Adam asked me the first time we read this book, “Why don’t they just play with their toys?” Well there does come a time during winter, say around May 17th, that Play-doh and Hot wheels lose their designated appeal and become merely something to catapult at your sibling. I know how they feel. I have stacks of books I could be reading and movies from Blockbuster line our kitchen counter, but each time I see them I roll my eyes in disgust that they cannot somehow transform themselves into an actual, real-life adventure.

But even as I write this, the sun has begun to peek from the clouds and the forecast today does call for actual sun. It even teases a delightful Father’s Day weekend. Could it be possible that our annual visit to the local Tigard (Hot Air) Balloon Festival won’t have to include rain boots and heavy coats? Who knows, maybe that balloon ride over France might even work out.

A Rose By Any Other Name. . . .

I picked these from our backyard which is now bursting with new rose buds on a daily basis. Just in time for Portland's annual Rose Festival.

Things I Love. . .

Onions? Yep, onions. This bag of frozen chopped onion and a bottle of olive oil is the start to almost any good meal. And because it’s already chopped it means no more crying and no more onion odor lingering on cutting boards and fingers. And its frozen, which means the right amount of onion is always ready and waiting in my freezer with no leftovers stinking up the place.

A bag of these babies is not always easy to find. In fact I have yet to see them under any of the usual frozen veggie name brands but Albertson’s does carry them under their store brand. And they’re worth the search because in my kitchen they rank right up there with my kitchen shears and bottled garlic as a sanity saver. Bon Appétit!

Only In Portland. . . .

There's more than one reason Oregon is green. Sure, one is the amount of rainfall that we get here, but the other is the amount of Hybrids on our roads. Especially in Portland. Eleven out of every 1,000 households in Portland own a hybrid car - the highest in the country as of 12/06*. In fact, according to an article in Willamette Week from 2002, Portland drivers owned 500 of the first 20,000 Honda and Toyota hybrids sold in the US. And that was back when being "green" wasn't even cool. But Portland isn't the only city making Oregon green. Bend and Eugene also ranked in the top 15 cities buying the most hybrids.

So I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise to see this parking sign this past weekend, except that hybrids are so common around here, we forget that they're actually something special.

Click HERE to get more info on getting a hybrid of your own!



*According to a report on Hybridcars.com

Mid-Life Crisis

Watching these guys on stage is like watching your dad - and sadly, now our husbands - relive their high school glory days. You just know its going to end up with Advil and Aspercreme. It's over guys. It was great, but its over. Accept it and move on.





And if you're interested, here's their new song, Summertime. Just as sad, you just don't know all the words. The peek-a-boo belly shot that Donnie gives us halfway through is especially naughty!

Never Forgotten

"The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.” - Douglas McArthur.

Thank you to all who have served our nation.

Lost In Translaton. . . .

I'm not usually a pirate. I don't steal music or make illegal copies of movies, but we did order a set of 25 Disney movies from Ebay that have been quite obviously copied illegally by one Asian country or another. And its not because we don't want to pay the $22.99 for each movie, its because we can't pay the $22.99 for each movie. They're only available about every 15 years. And since I'm not sure Adam and Jamie will be that interested in Fox and the Hound when they're age twenty, Disney can just bite me on this one.

But along with this special "international" version of Disney movies comes a few surprises. Like, the subtitles. Suprisingly they aren't in Chinese. What they are is a hillarious attempt at English slang which ends up being more entertaining than the movie - at least for the adults. Sometimes the mistakes are understandable. Sometimes they simply make up their own dialogue to go along with what they think is happening in the movie. Other times. . . . well, check out the stills below captured from the timeless and endearing tale of Disney's Lady and the Tramp.

I Got UR Back, Dad. . .

Me: There’s a spot right there.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Or. . . there’s another one.

Damonn: (Silence)

Me: Seriously? Why are you still driving? Why do you always have to drive ten minutes, passing three spots before you finally find a spot to land? You seriously need to work on this issue.

Adam: (mumbling from the back seat)

Me/Damonn: What??

Adam: (mumbling louder) What difference does it make?

Damonn: What difference does what make?

Adam: (rolling eyes with the attitude ten years his senior) Which spot he parks in.

Damonn: You sooo just got worked.

Me: (Silence)