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.