Monthly Archives: December 2004

Number 12

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12.  Whose behavior merited celebration?

As a separate entry, my dad.  There are really few people that make the planet a better place for others, but my dad is one of those people.  Aside from being a great person, and a great father, he has already done more for others than most people will ever do.  You want proof? Go here.  Part I features my dad; all parts feature the area I grew up in, and the project that my dad has spearheaded.  What you don’t see is the original land trust project, and the acres and miles of stream frontage that has already been conserved.  Seriously. My dad rocks. (More info here)

No, really.

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Last night, I went to the bookstore to kill some time and spend some money. As always, I ended up in the baby section.  I was actually looking for a book for my niece, no really! And I couldn’t find it.  I drifted around the corner and down to the end section, where they have the fertility and adoption and ART books.  I scooched down to look closer, when I was literally knocked over from behind.  I steadied myself by putting my hands on the floor, and I turned around to see who had whacked into me with such force.  A flash of brown flew by, stopped, and turned around.  A toddler, probably not even two, was grinning at me, drooling, looking straight into my eyes.

His father was right behind him, "Sorry! I’m sorry!" and I just waved my hand, "No worries, ‘sokay."  I almost burst into tears on the spot.  I mean, getting physically pushed away from the paranoia section, by a BABY, at almost 9 pm?

That is TOTALLY a sign.

Other than that, my ham sandwich tasted icky two nights ago, but no one else complained.  It tasted, dare I say it?

Metallic. 

Let the obsession begin. Or, try to not obsess. Whatever.

Oh, Reeeeeege!

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G:  scissor sister on Regis & Kelly is WEIRD.)
A:  what channel!?
G:  7

A:  they are sooooooo gay
G:  is it a guy in drag?
A:  i don’t think so
G:  oh

At this point, Regis asked what "Scissors Sister" meant, and the lead singer demonstrated with his hands, and Jimmy Fallon.  Regis, oblivious, made some comment that it was like " a handshake."  Kelly put on her big innocent face, and said,"Yes! a SECRET handshake!" As the camera panned by, she doubled over in laughter, and was blushing.

G:  HAHAHAHA
G:  "secret handshake"
A:  it’s a sexual position
G:  and Kelly knows it.
A:  yep!
A:  she’s done it
G:  heeee
G:  that’s awesome
A:  there are photos on the internet, i’ll bet

Mmmm, tea.

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One of my favorite gifts was this teapot, that my mom put in my stocking. I love it.  She tucked in some tea samples, that are in bags, but now i want to take the plunge (Ha! Ha! snerk) to loose tea.  Any recommendations?

We finally got snow today, about 4 inches, which is twice as much as my family in Houston got on Christmas Eve.  I had a message on my cell from my cousin, who had taken the time to research what was going on here to see that it was 46 and raining while they were making snow sculptures in their front yard. Hrmph.

We left the house for the first time in a few days, to go to the hardware store and get some caulking supplies for our front window.  If anything, the snow has us itching for spring and new windows.  I ran into a kid while out, and Dave saw his boss, and once again, I am reminded that I am a citizen of this small city, and not just a guest.

So, right now I’m sipping Chai tea from my new bright red fiestaware mug, adding hot tea from my little orange teapot as I drink, and looooving not being at school.  Now, if I can just add pregnant to the party, this would be a perfect moment.

Score!

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Well, it’s over, and we had a great day.

We woke up at around 7:30, 8 oclock, and it was the first time I’ve ever opened presents in the daylight.  With our brunch, we always had to get up before dawn to get the present part done and start cooking for the guests, here with just the four of us, we were totally leisurely about the whole business.

We did stockings and drank coffee, then made breakfast and took showers.  We opened our gifts mid-morning, and just as we finished, my sister called to check in (no ring, much to my mom’s dismay, but she did get a bracelet and a car stereo — I joked that she should have taken the bracelet and said "yes, yes! Of course I will!" and hung the bracelet from her left fourth finger and continued with "but it’s a little big . . .").  We went for a walk around the neighborhood, took some naps, and I made my first ever holiday dinner of Glazed Ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, rolls, and salad.  Dave picked up his mother to join us, and it went well.  After dinner, while Dave was cleaning up, the disposal stopped working right, so my dad and he spent an hour tracing the problem back to a nasty drain trap, the contents of which dumped onto my dad in the process of fixing it, and basically, it was a matter of years worth of crap in the trap that caused the problem.  Dave was completely amazed that my dad was so cool about it, since it both "looked and smelled like puke."  While the menfolk were playing plumber, my mom, MIL and I were playing Yahtzee.  It’s all good now, and what’s a holiday without a little drama?  Of course, I’m playing Yahtzee and my dad proclaims that all draisn should be checked, really, and they go upstairs as I realize there’s an empty FRED box under the bathroom sink that I can do nothing about.  When I asked Dave later, he said "So WHAT if he saw? We’re MARRIED! It doesn’t mean we’re TRYING to CONCEIVE, you know."  Which, he had a point…. it could be considered "Oh, we had a scare, but it’s okay now!"  I guess an OPK box would be harder to explain away. (Although, there was something really adorable about Dave saying the phrase "Trying to Conceive." Hee.)

Dave took MIL home after everything was cleaned up, and we watched some Arrested Development with the folks, and now they’ve gone to bed and we’re double dipping on our network with the two iBooks.  Tomorow we’ll take down our tree (it stopped taking water a week ago, and it is READY to go outside) and exchange what needs to be exchanged, and then my folks will go home for two nights, and return on the 28th for a night before they drive off on their East Coast road trip — NYE with friends near Philadelphia, and then a few weeks booked for Florida to visit family and attend a photog convention.

(Dave has just told me that I need to type "Free Tommy Chong" and be done with this entry.  The stuff below/behind the cut was typed up early, so

Free Tommy Chong.

And now, for the totally materialistic recap of the S-G Household’s Agnostic Christmas ’04:

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InLaw Eve

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Well, the Christmas Eve dinner of Subway & Chips at my MIL’s 10×12 efficiency apartment went better than I expected, actually.  I got a gift certificate to an import store (amazingly, it was something I WOULD use, thanks to my niece being the one who drew my name and her being the coolest of relatives.)  and Dave got a grinder from our BIL, so he was psyched.

The Good:  I held a baby.  This is kind of a big deal for me, because I haven’t held a grand-nephew yet, because of a lot of reasons, jealousy, resentment, fear of being ‘found out’ as TTC, etc.  So, it was a goal for me to actually hold a baby.  The 6 monther was there, and the 9 dayer, too.  I held the little one.  He’s not even 6 pounds, on account of his mom being a smoker (but, even still, my mom smoked for both of us and we were over 9 pounds each) and his head is only as big as a mango or pomegranate, and he’s teeny, tiny and pink and barely fuzzy, like a baby mouse squirming about.  I want one. Sigh.

The Bad:  I know, know, know that my ILs will be critical of every parenting decision we make.  I was biting my tongue as long as I could, when my MIL was accusing my niece of "spoiling the baby" by "holding him so much," I piped up and said "can’t spoil a baby!" and my niece looked a little relieved.  It was weird, this would go in the good column, but I think my niece and I sort of made a connection over that.  Also, when they were telling her she needed to cut his hair (and she so doesn’t he’s adorable) she was defending herself and they kept at it, and I looked at her and gave her a big smile and said loudly "But! It’s YOUR baby and you can do what YOU want!"  Again, a shared look of relief. It also creeped me out to see the 9 dayer get a bottle, and I know that there are reasons why people don’t nurse, etc etc, but I’m just so not USED to that.  My friends all nursed, and to see this tiny guy getting a bottle was just, weird.  Since I’ve seen that neither of my grandnephews were nursed, I’m already steeling myself up to defend that practice (assuming everything goes as planned, but I’m already pretty dedicated to the idea and I’m not even pregnant yet.) as well as slinging/babywearing/spoiling-by-holding my infant.  (interestingly, 48 Hours last night was on when we got home and had a thing about sextuplets, and how co-bedding preemie multiples has been found to steady their breathing, heartrates, and deep sleep that encourages brain development; the human touch is that amazing.)

I told Dave when we left that it creeped me out, that it’s just so different from the parenting I’ve seen, and that we would probably need to defend the way we raise our kids to his family.  He totally agreed, even he was creeped out by the 9 dayer being splayed out, unswaddled, on my nephew’s grease and oil stained jeans.  (Way to dress for the holidays, like he had no CLEAN jeans? I wonder what his girlfriend’s family thinks of him.) Also creepy was the "bug juice" (AKA colored sugar water) that the 3 year old drinks  all the time’ according to the family, and when she finished that, they refilled it with Coke. Straight up, coca cola, full caffeine, full sugar. Ewww.

Also, when we were leaving, my SIL asked if Dave had the ten dollars for the Subway platter (mmm, festive) and he didn’t have cash on him, so he said he’d pay her later.  "Oh, are you going to skip out on the bill?" is what she said, and dave just rolled his eyes.  What he wanted to say was "Oh, and are you going to pay Gretchen back for the dessert that she made by herself?"  It even bugged him that I was the only one who put any effort into the meal.

The Ugly:  The sweatshirt and gloves that Dave got from his mom. 

But, I held a baby! And Dave held the 6 monther! And neither of us ruined them!  It’s a start, right?

Eve

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The groceries are in the fridge, the bread is rising, the presents are wrapped, and the sink is full of dishes.  My folks are coming tonight, we have the Subway feast at my MILs tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll have my MIL to dinner with us and my parents.

Last night, I made sugar cookies and the fixin’s for tonight’s dessert.  Instead of (or maybe in addition to?) store bought cupcakes, I’m making the traditional chocolate trifle, which is super easy and always, always a hit.  (Basically, bake a cake, make some pudding, get some coolwhip and candy and layer it all.  Chocolate cake/pudding/coolwhip/ Heath (or Skor) bar chunks, rinse, lather, repeat.)  Today, I have 6 loaves of cinnamon wheat bread on the docket, and laundry, dishes, and tidying.

Also, in case I don’t get to post, I wanted to share one of my favorite holiday songs from my favorite holiday album, "John Denver & the Muppets: A Christmas Together."  We are Agnostics who do Christmas, which is something I’ve struggled with as I get older, but this song really captures what it is I like about the season and the holiday.

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Awww, man!!

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Today we had our Holiday Party, which pays no homage to any belief system beyond “Screw Veggies, it’s Sugar Time!” Before we unleashed the fudge and cupcakes, we had some activities for the kids to do, because pounding junk food only takes up so much time (especially in middle school) before the sugar hits the fan and people get hurt.

The first activity was that the kids had to write a letter to someone in their family that meant a lot to them, to thank them for all they’ve done, yada yada yada. After that, we all got into a circle, and did a Nice Things activity. We all put our names at the top of the paper, and then handede them left and every person had towrite something nice about the person whose paper they had. When your paper gets back to you, everyone has written something nice about you, and it is Party Time!

Middle schoolers being as they are, they bitched the whole time we did the two activities. “We’re not even going to have a PARTY, this is so RETARDED, I mean STUPID, waaah waaaaahhh….” But as soon as their paper got back to them the room was absolutely quiet as people read what others had to say. WIth 38 of us, and two teachers, it did take a while, but it was worth it.

Mine came back with some interesting quotes:

“Your a cool teacher, but mildly wierd.”
“Your the best my fav teatcher I love you allot <3" "A good teacher with a lot to teach us." "Funny Funny Funny" "Your an AWESOME Teacher and you know everything ! =) you make class so fun + funny!" "love the way you make learning fun! glad to have you next year!" "Your one of the best teachers ever. Really good taste in music." * "your the best math teacher" "your 1 of the best teachers ever alot of fun" "your the best teacher I've had since the 2nd Grade!"

The last three were the killers.

The first is from an SED kid who is in “real math” for the first time ever, and doing pretty well with it. He’s so proud of being in my math class.

The second is from a kid who has had a harder life than almost anyone you know, guaranteed. And he’s grown so much in his time here. It means a lot to hear that from him.

And the third is from the student I like the least. She drives me nuts. She is one of the most unlikeable people, ever. I wrote about her before at diaryland, but really. Grating personality, or lack of that’s so grating. And I try really hard to keep it in check, but I know that I don’t interact with her with the warmth I do other kids. I know it. I try hard not to be that way, but it’s human nature. So, to think that I am her favorite teacher since then, and I’m not even that NICE, you know? How sad. That even mean, impatient, annoyed me is still nicer than six of her other teachers. That’s just so sad. It crushed me to read that.

It was a good activity, even for me. It was good to hear that, to find out that I really HAVE impacted kids, despite all the bureaucratic bullshit I am constantly slogging through.

This doesn’t mean I’m not really fucking ready for my vacation, though. 24 hours to freedom!

*Her mother is my age, and apparently we both had the same cassette collection. Most notably lame, “Gorky Park.”