tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62570107564378452132023-11-16T07:27:03.116-05:00The Kat DiariesReconciling all the different sides of me...Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-73034907810074517392012-12-10T10:53:00.001-05:002012-12-10T10:53:48.111-05:00Women Aren't Funny?<br />
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*Warning - excessive, angry use of the F-bomb*</div>
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I've been listening to Tina Fey's book "Bossypants" on Audible lately. Like a lot of other people (massive understatement), I watched Ms. Fey on "Saturday Night Live" and thought she was great. Personally, I loved her even more when I discovered she was a writer on the show primarily. Then Ms. Fey (calling her Tina seems so impersonal, even though in my mind, we are already the best of friends and we laugh at our own inside jokes. Hey, Tina, remember that one time - right, sorry.) made several movies, created "30 Rock" and wrote "Bossypants." I found out she recorded it herself, instead of an established voice actor, and knew I'd have to check it out. <a data-mce-href="http://iwishidknown.wordpress.com/2012/12/10/women-arent-funny/tinafeybossypants/" href="http://iwishidknown.wordpress.com/2012/12/10/women-arent-funny/tinafeybossypants/" rel="attachment wp-att-304" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #111111; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><img alt="TinaFeyBossyPants" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-304" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/tinafeybossypants.jpg" height="300" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/tinafeybossypants.jpg" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; cursor: default; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 12px; max-width: 100%; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" width="300" /></a></div>
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Maybe it's naive of me, but listening to the chapter on how tough it was for Ms. Fey at Second City, not to mention some of the critical backlash she received at SNL, I was surprised. Aren't we in the 21st century? Is there still that tired argument that "Women Aren't Funny?" I honestly don't get it. Do guys think Women Aren’t Funny because they can’t relate to women? If that’s the deal, then I say too bad. Because women have had to sit through comedy from men’s perspective since cavemen were making fart jokes.</div>
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Tina Fey is one of my favorite actresses mostly because she's a writer, but also because she is far from perfect. I love how unique and yet how "EveryWoman" she is - not the most beautiful, thinnest, Greatest Role Model Ever (looking at you, Gwyneth Paltrow), but a snarky, funny, unafraid college girl from Pennsylvania who pursued what she wanted and worked hard. Talented, absolutely, but as far as I know, she didn't sleep her way onto SNL's writing staff (if she had, I'm sure she would have found a hilarious way to both comment on it and write a guide for the rest of us on How To Get Ahead at Work Through Sex).</div>
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I've noticed the same thing happen recently to Lena Dunham, an up-and-coming writer/director/actress of an indie film and of "Girls," a show on HBO. Dunham (we are not yet the best of friends in my head) receives more criticism for her weight and various tattoos than her show.</div>
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<a data-mce-href="http://iwishidknown.wordpress.com/2012/12/10/women-arent-funny/girls/" href="http://iwishidknown.wordpress.com/2012/12/10/women-arent-funny/girls/" rel="attachment wp-att-305" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #111111; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><img alt="girls" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-305" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/girls.png" height="487" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/girls.png" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-style: none; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-style: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-width: initial; cursor: default; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 12px; max-width: 100%; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" width="308" /></a></div>
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*Disclaimer - I've never seen "Girls", so I don't know if its good or crap or anywhere inbetween. I've wanted to check it out, but I'm not an HBO subscriber (I know, the shame). The previews I saw seemed interesting, though, and I was excited to see another woman writer break out (Woo, Girl Power! Spice Girls, it's all coming true!)</div>
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The most recent controversy I saw in regards to Dunham was over a remark in an essay she wrote - she commented "writing for money is weird." Apparently this offended people, especially in the (hushed deathbed voice) current economy. Why is this offensive? No clue. From what I read, it seemed like an offhand comment and she didn't expand further, so people are just taking this and assuming like crazy. If that's how she really feels, who cares? Maybe Ms. Dunham has wanted to write movies all her life and she still can't believe she's getting paid for it? Maybe she's in shock that someone would pay her over $3 million dollars for something that isn't even done yet? (Ms. Dunham wrote a book proposal that netted her 3.7 mil. Not too shabby for the fat, unattractive girl, internet snarks). For people to get their panties in a twist over a comment shows more about them than about Ms. Dunham - and since most of the articles giving her crap about it are written by other women, I think we can come to a conclusion. Bitches be jealous. Hey, girls, go ahead, be jealous. But don’t tear down another woman because of it – give her crap for poor writing or uncreative, awkward sex scenes. You know that shit could be so much worse and hilarious.</div>
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Criticism about a show itself (writing, plot, lack of diverse characters or character development) - sure. You can't be in the business and avoid criticism. But criticism in the guise of sexism (Fey and Dunham aren't funny because they're women, fat, ugly, blah, blah) - not cool.</div>
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My point wasn't to proclaim Fey and Dunham the Funniest Women Ever or declare Women Are Funnier Than Men. Hell, Tina and Lena (New comedy team!) are smart and funny enough to defend themselves and they have in various ways. I'm sure they couldn't give a shit and that further makes them awesome. No, the point is, Yes, women are allowed to be funny. No, not Allowed, even. Women ARE funny. Women are Fucking Funny. Its time for this to be acknowledged and for there to be different roles for all kinds of women. It's been time - we're so overdue, we're on a block table at the local butcher, cutting out our own comedy babies because we're sick of the idiot male doctor telling us, "The Baby will come out when its ready." Fuck you, doctor and fuck you, casting couches, producers, directors and studio heads. Bitches be Funny as Hell and, as Tina Fey and Amy Poehler proclaim, We Don't Fucking Care What You Think.</div>
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I'm exhaustified of the put-upon, gorgeous, stay-at-home wife/mother, married to a stupid schlub on a "family" sitcom. I'm tired of the put-upon, go-getter, anxiety-riddled single career girl who really wants to get married and have a family, but is let down over and over again by a guy who cheats/chooses a career instead/doesn't want to get married stereotype. We are more than a sidekick, we are more than a vagina dreaming about fertilized embryos - just because I'm a married mother of two, that doesn't mean I want to watch a show about a woman stressing over the same crap I do everyday. I liked "Sex and the City" because of its escapist nature. But I also didn't secretly want to leave my husband and kids and run away to New York, buy a laptop, and start dating a 18-year-old while wearing clothes 10 years too young for me. I'm a fucking grownup (whatever that’s worth these days – thank you, reality television).</div>
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But I'm ready to enjoy more great shows, movies and books from awesome, funny WOMEN – not as a new Wave or Era of comedy. That implies that Women in Comedy is a fad and will be over eventually. No, this needs to be the beginning of a new normal – funny People making funny entertainment. If there's criticism about what they create, cool. But reading crap about who they are and why that sucks doesn't contribute a damn thing to comedy or entertainment or even humanity.</div>
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Now, back to my audiobook and checking my phone for imaginary texts from Tina and Lena (new comedy team! I'm telling you - call me, NBC!).</div>
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Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-81077253582082079702012-12-07T11:22:00.000-05:002012-12-07T11:22:19.413-05:00Keep the "Christmas" in December
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I love the holidays. Who doesn’t love extra stress about buying stuff
you don’t need, planning for an extra-complicated meal that everyone disagrees
on and the eventual disappointment in your in-laws, when you get another crappy
sweater that’s two sizes too small? (I’m not vain in that way – I don’t care
about the crappiness of the sweater. It sucks that she thinks I need to be two
sizes smaller).</div>
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<br />
What I don’t love about the holidays? The retail world trying to convince me to
begin celebrating a good 3 months earlier. Not just Christmas, either: the
grocery stores are putting out Halloween candy at the end of August (You just
know that's last year’s candy, trying to get pushed out the door for the new
stuff). There are sales on kitchenware, ingredients and fancy paper supplies in
September for Thanksgiving. In October, the malls are putting up their fake
Christmas trees and turning their background speaker music to horrible
Christmas Muzak. In freaking October! I know we’re in the midst of an economic
downturn or whatever finance-speak is for a horribly managed government budget,
but come on. Does business really go up if you start celebrating in June?<br />
<br />
I refuse. For me, Christmas doesn’t start until after Thanksgiving and I keep
it that way, no matter what my kids think (though, when they call me the
Christmas Grinch, it does break my heart a little). What about Halloween? There
is so much more than trick-or-treating on one day. There are scary movie
marathons to be watched - pumpkin patches to visit, where you go on scary
hayrides and pick out a pumpkin to carve - scary stories to tell before bed - elaborate
costumes to put together to freak out the small children of your neighborhood.<br />
<br />
Why are we giving Thanksgiving short shrift? I love Thanksgiving – spending
time with my family in a confined space, while I yell at the Lions playing on
TV and the house smells like turkey and gravy – awesomeness. It really makes me
miss my family in Michigan, but I like to think that we are yelling at the
Lions and being disappointed together, despite the miles apart. We participate
in food drives and donate clothing to shelters for the upcoming cold months. We
talk about being thankful - Baz is usually thankful for trains, Tom is
currently thankful for the Redskins.<br />
<br />
I do not participate in Black Friday. I was an unwilling retail drone who had
to sell and take returns for far too long to EVER even consider shopping within
a crowd of insane women at 1am on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Plus (and
again, I’m Mean Mommy to other mommies who will Do Anything For the Fruit of
Their Womb), there isn’t anything my kids want that I would wake up at 1am, go
wait in line and fist-fight with other women for. The only thing I would
consider would be food. If we were living in some post-apocalyptic future,
where Black Friday shopping has turned into a reality show for families and the
Moms are the stars, because we have to fist-fight for tv ratings and food for
our families - then yes, I would fight in the middle of the night for food. But
thankfully, we are not reality-tv ready and we also can afford food.<br />
<br />
The husband and I have agreed on the Saturday after Thanksgiving for our
Christmas-decorating time. We get in a full month of holiday revelry and then
we take the decorations down the Saturday after New Year’s. This way, we can
fully appreciate the Christmas letdown and bitter resentment of no holidays or
celebrations in January.<br />
<br />
On Saturday, we unload all of our boxes from the attic and take them down to
the basement. Baz’s interest is primarily the train we set up around the tree –
Belle loves the ornaments and finding just the right place to put them on the
tree. I make hot chocolate and we put on a great Christmas movie – this year,
we started off with “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.” (I forgot how much
cussing there is in that movie. WOW.) Tom gets the tree set up and the lights
hooked up – Belle and I get all the ornaments out and make sure nothing is
broken or missing a hook, etc. Baz pretends to help and shoots covetous looks
at the train in its box. We hang up our stockings on the mantel over the
fireplace and add all of our Christmas snow globes and stuffed animals and
nutcracker figures.<br />
<br />
The kids and I trim the tree – I take a couple of breaks in the middle to take
pictures for our calendar/Christmas cards (Tom thinks our camera hates him –
I’ll expand on that later). After all the ornaments and the star are on the
tree, Tom and Baz set up the train on the floor, around the tree. When the tree
is done and the train’s set up, we sit back and admire the view. We drink our
hot chocolate and finish watching the movie, all together in the basement. We
usually have something special for dinner (Takeout, oh yea!) and that’s our
Saturday After Thanksgiving. One of my favorite Christmas traditions.<br />
<br />
Another favorite tradition? Giving gifts to friends and family. This is not the
same as shopping. I don’t like shopping. It begins so nice and ends in a
guilt-ridden shamefest. I love GIFT-GIVING. I get excited about how much Baz
would love this really cool Lego set to build and how he will play with it for
hours and I’ll break my ankles stepping on them. I found several different
craft sets for Belle and I can’t wait to see what she will come up with –
hopefully it won’t involve drawing on the walls or furniture (yes, she’s 9 and
still wants to draw on walls and furniture). Tom is more difficult – not that
he’s not into anything; he is just particular in his choices. He’s what my
friend Red calls a “spoiled, only-child of divorce.” Tom knows specifically
what he wants and has specific plans for those things - if what you find is off
by just a small detail, the whole thing still Does Not Work. But I can usually
come up with something and, if anything, I like the challenge. Investigating
new techy things or puzzle books or other stuff he’s into – it’s kind of like a
mystery.<br />
<br />
We’ll spend the weeks leading up to Christmas doing our favorite things:
watching our favorite specials together, listening to Christmas music, going to
the concert at the kids’ school, thinking up gifts we would like to get for
friends (usually involving something baked or special hot chocolate mix),
baking Christmas cookies and reading our favorite Christmas stories. I like to
take the kids’ ice-skating – Tom refuses to join in, claiming he can’t skate.
But they can’t skate, either, so his argument is worthless. I take turns
helping them around the ice and when we get home, I tell him I can’t make
dinner while lying down on a heating pad. We keep coming up with weird little
traditions and I love it because I had no traditions growing up and now – I
have traditions with my family. Excellent.<br />
<br />
So why would I want to hurry things up? Make Christmas start earlier and last
longer? People, we’re talking about quality, not quantity here. I can only take
1 month of Christmas. I have nothing more to give – I can’t be festive and
cheery nonstop for 4 freakin’ months! I can only love and appreciate human
existence on a regular basis for so long. The entire month of December nonstop
is enough. So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year – I wish you and your family
a happy holiday of whatever you celebrate. Christianity, Judaism, Kwanzaa,
Festivus, Retailism, Genericaa – I hope its fun and tradition-y. Just keep it
in December, so I don’t shoot anyone.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-38781901453352643442012-08-16T16:34:00.002-04:002012-08-16T16:36:42.652-04:00You're a Hooker, I'm a Slut and We're All Drug Addicts<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: none; border: 0px; font-family: 'Hoefler Text', 'Baskerville old face', Garamond, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 24px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">
Welcome to the end of the world and it's all women's fault. Moms are staying out late, going out with other moms to have drinks. Our magical lady parts that have the power to control men's thoughts (or so I'm told) are to blame. Instead of being at home, cleaning something, we are out of the house, dressed nicely and drinking alcoholic drinks. After bedtime! On a school night! What is our country coming to?</div>
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-mce-href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/screen-shot-2012-07-10-at-10-44-00-am.jpg" href="http://theawl.com/2012/07/the-40-year-old-reversion" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="size-medium wp-image-228" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/screen-shot-2012-07-10-at-10-44-00-am.jpg?w=253" height="300" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/screen-shot-2012-07-10-at-10-44-00-am.jpg?w=253" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border: 0px none; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Mommy?" width="253" /></span></a></dt>
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But according to one writer, some mothers in a New York suburb are taking this one step further and ruining it for everyone else. Amy Sohn, a writer looking for publicity for her new book, wrote a titillating article about her adult social activities, written as though it was no big deal:</div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">"Once a month I get together with half a dozen moms from Park Slope and Carroll Gardens. We call ourselves Hookers, Sluts and Drug Addicts."</em></div>
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<em style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">“Why do moms in my generation regress, whether by drugging, cheating, or going out too late and too often? Because everything our children thrive on—stability, routine, lack of flux, love, well-paired parents—feels like death to those entrusted with their care… In flux, jaded by parenthood, confused about work and life, mothers are bored. So we rebel, just like bored adolescents—except adolescents, at least, can say they are acting their age.”</em></div>
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Is this not what they signed up for, with marriage and parenthood? Am I supposed to believe that they have no control over their lives? I call BS - forgive me if I don't understand the controversy over this piece. Because this article (and the response written on CNN.com) is just another excuse to exploit women.</div>
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(Full disclosure: I'm a mother of 2 children under 10, married for 9 years to the same guy; we live in the suburbs of a large city and I have a full-time job.)</div>
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I don't understand because, whether or not the "article" by Ms. Sohn is based in fact, it reads like the first draft of a pilot TV episode. It would be called "Bored Parents of the New Millennium.” No topic would remain untouched - wives cheating on husbands because they feel unappreciated, husbands soliciting women online because their wives are too tired for sex. Everyone going to the neighborhood block party - while the teenagers try to hide behind someone's house and make out, the adults are in the neighbor's driveway, smoking pot and thinking about switching spouses for the night. Maybe their teenage daughter can have the same pot dealer - it’s her teacher! It’s so wacky but so - real!</div>
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Notice an important part: while the article is called "The 40-Year Reversion", its focus is on the mothers in the article, despite the presence of more than a handful of jaded dads. Why are we shaking our fingers at the moms and just barely noticing the dads behaving badly? Women are scolded for “trying to act like men” but the guys are just relegated to being ignored for “acting like cavemen.” Oh, but that’s what men do. It’s a miracle when a man acts like a decent guy and a moral travesty when a woman isn’t a saint.</div>
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-mce-href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/07/25/living/moms-gone-wild/index.html?hpt=hp_bn11" href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/07/25/living/moms-gone-wild/index.html?hpt=hp_bn11" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="Moms Gone Wild"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="size-medium wp-image-222" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/momsgonewild.jpg?w=300" height="168" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/momsgonewild.jpg?w=300" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border: 0px none; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Moms Gone Wild?" width="300" /></span></a></dt>
<dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11px; font-style: inherit; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 4px 5px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">Moms gone wild: '40-year-old reversion' By Shanon Cook, CNN, Sat July 28, 2012</dd></dl>
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The response article on CNN.com by Shanon Cook was fairly level-headed. While speculating whether or not Ms. Sohn's article was fact or fiction, she agreed to disagree with the stance that "all parents" are just like this. Everyone is looking for an escape from their unhappy marriage, nonstop parenting schedule and dirty dishes? Not so much. But for those that are unhappy, this behavior is nothing new. Shocking - people have been making poor choices since Adam and Eve. Cook makes the reasonable case that you can be in a committed relationship, be a responsible parent and still be yourself.</div>
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Being yourself means you still need time to do your own things - to write, to see friends, to see a band, to run 5ks, whatever you like to do. Yes, marriage and kids are a responsibility - there is more selflessness required than selfishness allowed. They go hand-in-hand. But that doesn't mean you can't still be who you are. If you're chained to the grindstone 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in Mommy mode, I would entirely expect that you to be desperate for something, anything that gives you a release.</div>
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Again, this article zeroes in on the moms - "Moms Gone Wild", it's called. Not "Parents Gone Wild." It’s again a given that the dads could act this way, but it’s against everything that mothers are supposed to be - innocent, incorruptible teachers and caregivers of our children. Being a parent isn’t “really” Dad’s job – it’s primarily Mom’s. Dads of the world, you should be offended by this article just as much as the moms.</div>
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But the people described in the "article" written by Ms. Sohn come across as simply impulse driven. I would wonder why Ms. Sohn would choose to hang out with them (if they exist), but considering she is likely making money off their caricatures, maybe she thinks they have a lot in common. Every time I go back to read, they fade more and more, because they seem so fake. In that little world, all of their actions seem reasonable because no common sense exists there. Or maybe we should consider occam's razor – (from Wikipedia) “other things being equal, a simpler explanation is better than a more complex one” – that these people just don’t like their kids, their spouses or themselves (yea, I went there). If that’s true, I’ve got to say – that makes me really sad.</div>
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I love my children - they are sweet and quirky. My son cuddles a mechanical train next to his stuffed dog at bedtime. My daughter writes letters to a fairy she believes lives in our backyard. I don't just love them, I like them. My husband and I, we drive them to school, we watch them spar or practice weapons (Yes, weapons!) at martial arts class. We spend time together as a family; we go out to dinner with other families, we have play dates with friends; we play board games together. We work on homework together and I still read to them before bed (and I write the fairy letters to my daughter).</div>
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I also like going on dates with my husband alone or we go out to see a band with friends while the kids spend the night at Grandma's. Or my husband and I take turns - I go out with friends to a movie and drinks while he stays in one night. Another night, my husband goes out to see one of his best friends play guitar at a club and the kids and I are having pizza night at home. He has to have a life, too.</div>
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Bottom line: We are far from perfect. But I love my children and my husband; they always come first. But I am also still me - I am allowed to have my own pursuits. Having a life makes me a better mother and wife. I am giving my kids, especially my daughter, a great example - how to be a functional adult <span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: underline; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;">woman</span> who can choose to be who she wants, who doesn't need drugs, sex with strangers or any other shocking jolts of stimulation to get through the day. I don't need an impulse thrill because I'm happy. And that scares the shit out of the unhappy people.</div>
<br />Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-596843783834757892012-08-09T13:37:00.001-04:002012-08-09T13:37:44.631-04:00Summer<br />
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-mce-href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/08/06/travel/august-beaches/index.html?hpt=hp_bn10" href="http://www.cnn.com/2012/08/06/travel/august-beaches/index.html?hpt=hp_bn10" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title="Sand, Salt and Summer - CNN.com"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="size-medium wp-image-203 " data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/glenarbor1.jpg?w=300" height="168" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/glenarbor1.jpg?w=300" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border: 0px none; cursor: default; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Glen Arbor, MI" width="300" /></span></a></dt>
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I love summer. The weather, the sun, being outside with friends. My summers are a lot different now than they've ever been - in some ways better and others not so much. Working an 8 hour job, for instance, cuts into my beach time. But I've also been able to take my kids to the ocean since they were young and watch the delight they have in the waves. No matter what, it's still summer.</div>
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Tom grew up going to the Outer Banks in North Carolina every summer - though he would be quick to say, not just GOING to the OBX. But staying OCEANFRONT. House - yard - beach. Sometimes his family would share a house with another family or Tom would bring a friend. But it was very laidback - they made meals in the house (no constant restaurant meals), there was no TV and there were always card games.</div>
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Trips to the beach were different when I was growing up. We lived in Michigan and going to the beach was driving to Lake Michigan. It's not a dinky little pond either - you can't see across the lake from the beach, it's so big. The water is fresh and its a bit warmer in August - but there are definitely no ocean-size waves. I still loved it. We would swim, build sandcastles, take tubing trips on boats and go fishing. I can remember scaling fish when I was younger in my pajamas and watching my dad gut it with a long knife.</div>
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There were other lakes we could go to - but that was "going to the lake", not "the beach". The only other lake that was almost up to par with Lake Michigan was Gull Lake, about half an hour away from my house. It was where the swanky people had summer houses or belonged to the country club, so they could have their boat stored there. My grandparents belonged - several times during the summer, we would have Sunday brunch at the club (best meals growing up!) and then stay the afternoon to swim and picnic on the grass. The water in that lake was (and still is), so clear, so clean, you could bottle it and sell it next to Deer Park at the store.</div>
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Tom also grew up belonging to the local pool, so he was in the water all the time. My family did not - we were connoisseurs of the sprinkler, water balloon fights and the local creek. Everyone had a bike to ride wherever they wanted, which was usually to the little league grounds and elementary playground to play games. Pick up baseball games and home run derby - hide and seek or tag around the playground - bike races around the circular parking lot. We would ride afterward to the Dairy Queen for ice cream cones or sundaes - turn in cans for the 10 cent return and hit the penny candy aisle - have lunch at the Root Beer Stand with huge mugs of root beer and cheese dogs.</div>
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-mce-href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/beach.jpg" href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/beach.jpg" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="size-medium wp-image-131" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/beach.jpg?w=200" height="300" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/beach.jpg?w=200" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border: 0px none; cursor: default; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" title="Walkway to the Beach" width="200" /></span></a></dt>
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My summers are different now, being married and a mother and a (gulp) grownup. But I'm grateful that Tom and I have been able to kind of merge them with the summers of our childhoods. We go to the Outer Banks every summer - sometimes with another family and sometimes just us. This has been a wonderful new ritual for me - the ocean is so much more extreme than Lake Michigan - and I love sharing the new experiences with our kids. It even makes jaded beach goer Tom seem younger. We plan our own crab feast with food from the local seafood deli and have lunch at Kill Devil's - the Outer Banks' answer to my Root Beer stand. Greasy burgers and fries, crazy chili dogs and the best ice cream on the beach.</div>
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We try to visit Michigan as much as possible - I still have yet to take the kids to Lake Michigan. I hope they will enjoy it as much as I did when I was a kid. But since they've regularly been to the ocean since they were infants, it might not be that impressive. We belong to our local pool, just up the road from the pool Tom belonged to as a kid. Both Belle and Baz have been on the swim team and this past summer, Belle was on the dive team for the first time. There are family dinners, outdoor movie nights and campouts - family games and races on July 4th, Memorial and Labor Day. You can always count on at least one other family to barbecue with on a lazy Sunday at the pool.</div>
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<dt class="wp-caption-dt" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: bold; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><a data-mce-href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/pool.jpg" href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/pool.jpg" style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" class="size-medium wp-image-213" data-mce-src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/pool.jpg?w=300" height="300" src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/pool.jpg?w=300" style="-webkit-user-drag: none; border: 0px none; cursor: default; display: block; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility; vertical-align: baseline;" title="pool" width="300" /></span></a></dt>
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I drive my family crazy with the pictures - I have almost no pictures of my childhood anymore, so anything I can take a photo of is precious to me. Pictures of the kids playing in the waves, burying Tom in the sand, building sand castles, diving off the diving board, eating ice cream with most of it on their faces, swimming in a swim meet, jumping in the deep end hand-in-hand with their friends, sleeping peacefully after a long day playing. Pictures of Tom and his mother, Mary, playing cards, cooking our crab feast or barbecuing burgers - pictures of Tom in the water with the kids or of him boogie-boarding in the waves like a big kid, or just sleeping on a beach blanket in the sand.</div>
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These are summer experiences I always wanted to have with my parents and sister growing up. For all these different reasons, we just didn't get to have them. But I still adore summer and I cherish the memories I have of my summers growing up in Michigan. Most of all, I love the summers now and the opportunities I have for all these new memories with my family now and in the future.</div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-31267282539126797092012-08-01T19:58:00.001-04:002012-08-01T20:04:47.032-04:00The 2012 Olympics or a Meditation on How Inflexible I Am<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/wpid-photo-aug-1-2012-757-pm.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://iwishidknown.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/wpid-photo-aug-1-2012-757-pm.jpg?w=500" id="blogsy-1343865830727.351" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="425" height="237"></a></div> <br/><br/>If you own a tv, read a newspaper or have access to a computer, then you’ll have noticed that the Olympics are going on right now. Yay, pride for your country. Yay, look at all the hot bodies – whoops. Yay, nationalism! (drooooool, swimmers and gymnasts). Go USA! (don’t think inappropriate thoughts about people younger than you! *smack*)<br/><br/>I love watching the different events, especially with my kids. We talk about the different things the athletes might do to prepare. Baz and Belle wonder if they can learn to do any of the gymnastics moves in their martial arts classes (they can both do the splits already). We cheer on the swimmers(no matter that the race happened a good six hours ago). The kids want me to try doing the splits. Yikes, look how out of shape I am. This is in no way attractive.<br/><br/>I have always been a fairly active person. I grew up in a neighborhood full of boys and my mother ran a day care out of our house – nice, quiet moments to myself were hard to find when I was younger. I didn’t care – it was great. It’s a childhood setting I wish for my own kids. We lived in a small but expansive neighborhood where I could ride my bike all over without worry – no one offered me candy to get into a van. I walked to school from kindergarten to senior year – not once kidnapped. I played sports all throughout middle and high school and continued to take gym class – never propositioned by a coach. I worked out in the school’s weight room with the other boys and random girls who also liked to exercise – never asked out by a lesbian. It’s a world only a Republican can dream of – except with multi-national people. Whoops.<br/><br/>Then I graduated high school and started college, moved out on my own and started really working (and really drinking/partying). Full-time job with full-time college hours, late nights studying and hanging out with friends completely took away any exercise time. I eventually moved away and while adjusting to a new city, I was working two jobs and taking a half schedule of classes. Marriage and kids and work and before I know it, not only have I not exercised on a regular basis for a good ten years, I have the forty pounds or so to prove it. Not to mention a false feeling of thinking my body is still 18. Yea, it’s not.<br/><br/>Funny story – when my daughter was 9 months old, I was invited to play a game on my company softball team. I was so excited – I grabbed all of my equipment that I’d kept and laced up my cleats. I felt fine during a light practice and warming up, but on my first at-bat, I pulled a muscle running to first. In my mind, I was shocked. “F*ck, I’m old,” I thought to myself. Well, oldER anyway. Out of shape as well.<br/><br/>The Olympics have been like a wonderful daydream. Watching all of these awesome athletes push their bodies to the limit doing something they love. They make it look so easy, I can just imagine doing it myself. It takes me away from the realism of how I can hardly swim one lap in a competition-size pool or how I mostly walked my first 5K. Ah, reality. The bitter slap in the face we all need sometimes.<br/><br/>Best of all, the Olympics can be motivating, too. Where are my running shoes? This fatty’s on the move.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-29948083235927017952012-07-31T22:27:00.000-04:002012-07-31T22:36:21.627-04:00Its a Tuesday, What Do You Want From Me?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://kjthomas29.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/wpid-photo-jul-31-2012-1009-pm.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://kjthomas29.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/wpid-photo-jul-31-2012-1009-pm.jpg?w=500" id="blogsy-1343788509057.595" class="aligncenter" width="400" height="400" alt=""></a></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;clear: both; "> </div> Ok, I've been attempting to post something for the past half hour to hour now. Anything that I come up with comes out formal and stiff (this is where someone would throw in a That's What She Said joke). I am an idiot to think this would just come back to me like I'd never stopped. Writing is hard. This sucks.<br/><br/>I don't know why I'm surprised - aside from life getting busier, this is why I stopped. I didn't have the energy, the time, the dedication to take my writing further. Or that was the excuse I threw out. Yet I know a handful of people who do everything I do in my daily life (not exactly, but the same routines such as a job, family, house, cleaning, etc) and MORE and still devote time to writing or painting or playing/writing music. In some cases, they have busier lives but still make time for speaking engagements or a regular band schedule all across the area, their weekends ending when some of us are getting up for work.<br/><br/>So why do I let this excuse hold me back? Duh. It's been easier to just give up than to be scared and go somewhere unknown. The biggest fear? Just plain sucking at something I love(?) to do and having it amount to nothing. So I didn't even try. And here I am years later, still having flashes of inspiration here and there, only to get stuck at some point and stop. Overthinking, not enough doing.<br/><br/>I came to a conclusion the other day that I'm tired of being scared. My dream isn't to write for a national magazine or write The Great American Novel that will be published in 22 countries and in different languages and eventually be the subject of a TMZ article. My dream has always been to just write. To create stories, to capture a moment or a feeling in a poem, to be able to remember things for the future through writing. But I let myself get intimidated and think, "Hey. None of this is permanent. None of it will matter in the long run." How do I know? Maybe whatever I leave behind will inspire someone in the future. Or maybe my family will read what I had to say at certain times and they will be excited to know what our family was like at this time.<br/><br/>So I contacted a friend of mine, Jenny - we were classmates in high school in an online writing class - and we decided to be writing partners. Support for writer's block, easygoing but honest criticism for stories, someone to sound off with for ideas. We are on Day 3. This has been great so far - feeling like I have an outlet, really thinking about what I want to write. It's been great to see someone else have the same struggles and want to work on something they enjoy, too. Our current goal - to make it on a regular schedule for a month to start. I think we're making good progress so far. Thanks for reading my beginner, rambling crap and wish us luck. Smiley face.<br/><br/> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-49415345150877993752012-07-31T12:40:00.000-04:002012-07-31T12:40:13.839-04:00The 8-year-old and The Cell Phone<br />
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The other day, we bought our daughter her first cell phone. Belle is 8 1/2 - she's becoming more independent. Yes, I hear the various grumblings - I got them from my MIL as well. "She's too young! What 8-year-old needs a cell phone?"<br />
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Look, we discussed and bemoaned the entire thing. Neither Tom nor I really wanted her to have one. We drive her practically everywhere - she's with her grandmother when we're at work, not a day care - if she's with friends or the dive team, we know she is with trustworthy people. But we also have to be realistic - Belle is growing up. She's learning more responsibility and we are learning to give her more trust as she earns it. We also live in an area where you can't reasonably walk to a lot of places. If she's at a dive meet and her ride needs to leave for whatever reason and she can't get another person we know to bring her home, I want her to be able to contact us. I will be the first to admit it - I am anxious and overprotective. So, while I'm trying my best to loosen up, I still have my limits.<br />
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So, despite AT&T's best attempts to buy our daughter a smartphone (she wanted an iPhone - my husband and I just laughed), we found the most basic phone possible. It makes calls - it can send text messages (no phone out there is without that) and we can limit who can call her. We've set up basic boundaries - she can call or text myself, Tom or Grandma - and that's all its for. No games, no internet and definitely no Facebook (of which she doesn't have an account). Also, don't lose it. Unfortunately, Belle has inherited my absent-mindedness. Sad face.<br />
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Guess who has become a texting fiend? Wow. I get the appeal and its cute - remember when walkie-talkies were the coolest thing? You wished they could reach as far as the next block or down the street, so your best best friend and you could talk to each other when you were supposed to be asleep? Same thrill. Belle sends me messages at work and in the evening, she checks up on her grandmother.<br />
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I realize I've created the monster - I realize that this is the decision we made - but underneath the grumbling, I just can't help but laugh. Belle is so cute - she's growing up way too quickly. I already asked her to slow down - she grew two shoe sizes in response. Little butthead.<br />
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<a href="http://blogsyapp.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Posted with Blogsy" height="20" src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" style="margin-right: 5px; vertical-align: middle;" width="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-89656840720400621102012-07-29T23:13:00.001-04:002012-07-29T23:22:33.668-04:00Sunday Afternoon at the ER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://kjthomas29.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/wpid-photo-jul-29-2012-314-pm.jpg" target="_blank" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title=""><img src="http://kjthomas29.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/wpid-photo-jul-29-2012-314-pm.jpg?w=500" id="blogsy-1343618526125.9597" class="aligncenter" alt="" width="500" height="373"></a></div> <br/><br/>Last night was the first Saturday evening that our family was able to really enjoy in 2 weeks. 2 weeks prior, Tom was recovering from pneumonia and a week after that, I was recuperating from bronchitis. So everyone, especially our poor kids, was looking forward to having fun. We made plans with 3 other families we know from the kids’ martial arts classes – bowling at the local AMF lanes and dinner. Everyone had a blast – the adults making fun of each other’s scores, cheering on the kids when they got strikes and eating bad (but delicious) food. The blacklight bowling started at 9, a DJ started playing music and we finally left at 10:30. Everyone slept in, which means it was a really good time (no matter what, Baz usually wakes up between 6 and 7 am on the weekends). We were all looking forward to a quiet afternoon.<br/><br/>So after sleeping late and making breakfast (coffee!), we all started in on our household chores. The kids started their laundry and began cleaning their rooms (which is more like rearranging their stuff in different places to make it look like they cleaned). Tom was changing the sheets on everyone’s beds – I was in the kitchen. I’m in the middle of steam-mopping the kitchen floor when I heard a crash and a cry. Trying not to panic, I walked out to the living room. Baz was standing, bent over at the waist, in the glass portion of the coffee table. It looked like he was leaning his weight on the glass, trying to fix this toy train crane that he plays with and the glass broke beneath him (he is not a little boy in size).Taking a look at his arm after I freed him from the glass, he was already bleeding profusely. Thankfully, he was fairly calm – crying, but not hysterically. Baz kept telling me he was sorry for breaking the table. I got him into the bathroom to clean him up and knew right away he was going to need stitches. So after bandaging up his hand, we were on our way to the ER. Thankfully we don’t live far away.<br/><br/>We were taken to the pediatric ER and looked at fairly quickly. Baz was great – except for the shot to numb the laceration around his thumb, he was very cooperative and in a good mood. We talked, played a train game on my iPad and watched “Despicable Me” while waiting. The stitches were quick (he blew bubbles with a wonderful nurse throughout the process, as you can see above) and we were on our way shortly after that.<br/><br/>Maybe this is something I need to get used to. We were at the ER back in May for a case of croup Baz developed – Baz, myself and Belle at 2:30 in the morning – and the doctor who saw Baz then remembered him today. Good thing he’s a tough kid – but he’ll have plenty of opportunity with martial arts class 3 times a week.<br/><br/>Happy Sunday to you all.<br/><br/> <br/><br/><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-82774385770162627142012-07-25T17:01:00.000-04:002012-07-25T17:01:02.972-04:00Reading to My Kids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am a reader - I have been for as long as I can remember. As soon as I found out I was pregnant for the first time, I started planning the books I would read to my child. I was very ambitious, in that eyes-wide-shut way to actual parenting life. I will read to my kids every night, no exceptions! Well, real life has bit me in the ass and laughed at me more than a few times. So while we haven't read every night for every bedtime of my kids' existence, there are also very few periods in between where it doesn't happen.<br />
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The book choices have run the gamut from reading the same book over and over for at least a week to a month - to asking them if we could read a particular storybook that I really enjoy and having it rejected. Sad face. We have discovered books that looked sketchy at first and turned out to be HI-LARIOUS (that's high-larious, for everyone outside the household) and other books with wonderful pictures that turned out to be weird or confusing. Mostly it has just been fun, silly cuddle time. Thankfully, I'm still Mommy; they appreciate and even laugh hysterically when I make silly voices or act out wild and crazy story climaxes.<br />
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This summer, with Baz learning to read and Belle well into chapter books, I decided we were going to do more than read our regular stack of picture books. I usually let them both choose one book and that's what I read before bed. Belle and I have read chapter books together, but Baz was never interested in sitting down for a chapter or two before now. So, going over all the possibilities we had, I asked them to pick out a longer chapter book that we would read before bed this summer. They chose "Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone." I have read the series more than a few times and greatly enjoy it - so much that, I bought a set just for the kids because my own were so dog-eared.<br />
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It has been wonderful. We talk about what I read the night before to refresh our memories, I ask them questions, like what they think about Harry's aunt and uncle - "Harry's cousin turned into a pig?!?" - and they always want to know if I can read an extra chapter when I'm done. I have managed to interpret and bring out Hagrid's brogue (which my husband finds incredibly amusing), Professor McGonagall's strict tone and Hermione's shrill, bossy squeal. What's more astonishing is that they love it. They love it when I read to them. I was afraid this was something I would be forcing on them, that reading a book Mommy loves before bed would be boring. But even my puppy-in-boy-form Baz loves to lie down, snuggled up with his long-suffering stuffed dog Scooter and listen to me tell Harry's tale. I love it so so much.<br />
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I wish it were this easy to work with them both on reading practice. Anabelle is off the charts in reading at school, but doesn't like our help with talking about books or essays and questions for school. Baz is interested in learning to read, but is easily discouraged - he loves books, especially about trains, but would rather make up his own stories than read the words when they get difficult. I think the trick may be asking Baz to read to me.<br />
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I have a reading list a mile long for them - I hope they stay as excited as I am.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-91480612924867679382010-09-24T22:33:00.000-04:002010-09-24T22:33:38.743-04:00Girl vs. GirlDear Mini-Van Mommy- <br />
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Hi. I'm the Blue Explorer you just cut off. I realize you were distracted and busy. Talking on your Blackberry and replacing the cap on your child's cup while driving. I realize I was probably in the way as you were racing to get to a playdate or the grocery store or a Starbucks. But it was fairly tough to not run into you as you skidded to a halt next to me at the stop sign. In the parking lane, not an actual lane. And turned, just as I was starting to turn right.<br />
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I see so many mommies and mini-vans just like yours these days. The ones going way too fast, running through stop signs, cutting in front of other people on 495. All I can see as you leave me in the dust is those family stick figures and a soccer bumper sticker seared to my eyeballs. I run into you and your friends everywhere I go. You all cluster together like little cute suburban lemmings. Identical college or breast cancer ballcaps with a Mommy-cut ponytail, some kind of Gap shirt and khaki capri pants with perfectly white running shoes on. Top of the line stroller and other baby accessories. Your kiddos of various ages are dressed like they're on the way to a magazine shoot. I bet you shop in the Petite department.<br />
<br />
You see me coming and I can just feel the narrowed eyes. T-shirt, jean shorts, sandals. My hair not highlighted, down to my waist, tattoos showing, no makeup on. I'm not petite in height or hip-size. My kid, who is twice the size of yours and not as impeccably dressed, squeals, "Awww! A baby! Mommy, see the cute baby?" (He loves babies - he tells me he wants a brother). He tries to go up to your baby and you immediately shift, looking at me like I can't control my child. Because he thinks your baby is cute. I'm such a horrible mom.<br />
<br />
You know the problems girls have with other girls? It never goes away. I don't know exactly when it starts. For some, it's high school. You've been friends with Joe Next Door forever. But once you get to high school, the two of you can't be friends anymore. Because Hot Cheerleader Girl likes him - but she doesn't like you. Or Type A Girl decides to make you miserable because both of you want to be the editor of the yearbook. For other girls (like myself), it starts as early as kindergarten. I can remember playing dolls with Amy Down the Street on a regular basis. But about a week after kindergarten began, she wouldn't come over. I asked her why. Amy told me dolls were for babies. She wanted to practice putting on makeup. I can remember distinctly thinking, "But we're 5."<br />
<br />
Just when you think it could be over - (after graduating high school or maybe even college) - just when you think, Ok, maybe we can all grow up and stop hating other girls now (because goodness knows, dealing with guys at that age can be enough. Sorry boys) you have an encounter again. It's either Kristin Ice Queen at work who thinks she deserves a promotion over you or Random Sorority Chick at the bar who thinks she can steal your boyfriend away from you. Maybe a friend even, Anna Who Loves Scrapbooking, who gets mad when you give her an honest opinion about her latest project. Then it just keeps going - your fiance's cousin Sally who liked his old girlfriend better than you. Your former boss Mary, who sent your co-worker Elizabeth to the amazing business conference because they were best friends, not because she was better qualified. Gwen, the girl at your husband's workplace who goes to him for dating advice and thinks he's "so great". On and on, until you're an old lady, arguing with Maude up the street about who looked better back in 1999, Ricky Martin or Will Smith.<br />
<br />
But what's with all of the girl hate? You'd think that we could at least have some kind of mutual respect for each other, as women. Maybe it's not even just a woman thing - maybe it evolves into a class or race or working mom vs. stay at home mom thing. Whatever the deal is, it sucks. I'm just as guilty as anyone else out there, but it's still lame. I wonder if other women are internally criticizing my body when I randomly get dressed up. I think bad thoughts about the mommy in the fast food line who lets her kid drink Coke with her fries and cheeseburger. I get irritated with the mommy struggling with her kid having a tantrum at Target when you know for sure, I've gone through the exact same thing with both of my kids. Who am I to criticize anyone else for what they go through?<br />
<br />
The worst part? No one can come out and call anyone on it and move forward. I can't ask the mommies at the mall, "What is it that freaks you out? My son likes babies and he thinks yours is cute. I'm a mom, just like you. Just because I don't look like you, doesn't mean I don't love my kid or don't make him wash his hands." I can't follow you, Mommy in the Mini-Van to your next destination and say, "Hey, I know you're busy, but you cut me off and I almost ran into you because you were talking to your friend about a post on Facebook and helping your child with a snack. <i>While you were driving.<i> </i></i> <br />
<br />
I think guys have it easier. Yes, seriously. Most guys I know, they can get along with everyone. If they have a problem with someone, they either call them on it, punch them and have a beer later. Or they avoid the guy. Maybe girls make things too personal - we think everyone could be our best friend. But we can't exactly go around bitch-slapping everyone, either. (My husband says that Jello wrestling would be a better idea. Yes, I punched him in the shoulder).<br />
<br />
Why can't we just be honest with each other? Why can't we respect each other? We are all different, we are all different kinds of women - career-driven, creative, readers, talkers, fashionistas, mothers, pet-lovers, independent, etc, etc. We're not all going to be like Meredith and Cristina or the Sex and the City girls or Mary and Rhoda, even - but enough with the hate.<br />
<br />
So, on that note, I'm going to try to change. Enough with the Girl Hate.<br />
<br />
Sorry for the long tangent, Mini-Van Mom. I hope you at least heard me screaming out the window as you cut me off. Aside from making the rest of us Moms look bad - you're f*cking dangerous. So get off the phone, get your kid's snack ready before you get in gear and PAY ATTENTION.<br />
<br />
(What? Just because I said I was going to change, didn't mean I wasn't going to be honest).<br />
<br />
Kat<br />
<br />
*Disclaimer: I know more than a few women who drive better than the average taxi driver. I have nothing against mini-vans or women personally - more often than not, the combo results in crazy.*Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-77499411606488520292010-09-22T12:30:00.002-04:002010-09-22T12:33:32.549-04:00FYIHi, gang -<br /><br />I'm working on a handful of posts right now, inbetween school dropoffs, soccer practices, Girl Scout meetings, finding a new job and spending a third of my day at the kitchen sink cleaning. Blah. In other words, I'm busy like everyone else. :(<br /><br />But I'm hoping one post in particular will be done for posting tonight, so yay!<br /><br />In other news, I'm changing the address of the blog. I've never been good at the titles of things and I'm not liking this one too much. So I'm going to change it and I hope that you'll find me still here. If anyone needs help, send me an email: kjthomas29@gmail.com<br /><br />KatKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-85865774993388127462010-09-14T21:00:00.000-04:002010-09-14T21:00:18.185-04:00Afternoons at the MoviesI love to watch movies with my kids. We like going to the theater as much as staying home and watching something on the couch (though these days, the couch option is much more affordable). My kids are still learning the trick of asking questions after the movie vs. during the movie, but otherwise it's always a great time. Popcorn, usually the younger child ends up in someone's lap and a warm feeling of having gone on a trip when it's over. One thing about this ritual that I love much more now, with my own kids, than I did when I was a kid and I went to movies with my parents, is the content.<br /><br />I remember going to see movies like Benji and Fantasia with my parents. For both films, my dad was asleep 20 minutes in. There was no conversation before or after or even during the movie. Just a basic, "Did you like it? Good, let's go home." The films themselves, while good kid-aged fare, were nothing that broke the mold. Yes, everyone knows the sequence in Fantasia with Micky Mouse called The Sorcerer's Apprentice. I liked it then, I like it now, but I'm ok with not seeing it again anytime soon. Live action kid movies from my childhood, while they appear dated (it was the 80's, come on), hold up fairly well: The Goonies, ET, Never Ending Story etc. Cartoon movies, not so much. I can think of only 2 that stand out - The Land Before Time (1st one, not the many, many direct-to-video releases) and An American Tail. But animated movies were not in the same quantity that they are in today.<br /><br />We live in the Pixar age. I seriously believe that the guys over at Pixar could take any half-finished computer-generated cartoon movie and turn it into a work of art. My husband disagrees with me on this one, but I have enjoyed every release they've put out. Yes, even A Bug's Life. Yes, even The Incredibles. Every one of them. My kids even have favorites that I wouldn't have expected. My son is currently in love with Ratatouille. A movie about a rat that can cook is the favorite of a 4-year-old boy obsessed with trains and tackling people for fun. How cool is that?<br /><br />One of my more favorite scenes from the Pixar movies is the ending of Ratatouille. I watched the movie with my kids expecting a funny movie about a rat in Paris who can cook - ironic circumstances leading to laughs. It was deeper than I expected and the ending hit me right in the chest. I watched one of the obstacle characters, a renowned food critic known for his scathing reviews named Anton Ego, become transformed by one bite of the main dish served to him - ratatouille, a "peasant dish" as another character calls it. <br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JDK2azVSE5Q?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JDK2azVSE5Q?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Aside from breaking my heart as I remembered my own comfort food from childhood, my brain was screaming, "Awesome!" It was like the food was just talking to Ego. "Hey, so you're a badass food critic? Check this out - we're serving you a peasant dish. A gourmet peasant dish. The same one served to you by your mother to feel better after your bike kicked your ass. Remember that? See how badass we are?"<br /><br />At the end of the day, who is anyone to say what is art and what isn't? It all comes back to a feeling, a connection that the artist had with the resultant work which is carried over to the person experiencing the art. The food was so good, he had a flashback to childhood. The food was so good, he believed that a rat had cooked it. The food was so good, it made him question everything about who he was and what he was doing in his career as a food critic. I adore the review he writes for the restaurant - "But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new." The choice of Peter O'Toole to bring Ego to life was exemplary casting. I also love that the movie had another small twist ending - that despite the excellent review, the restaurant was still shut down because there were rats in the kitchen.<br /><br />I love the unique messages that Pixar movies have - it's not always Good vs. Evil, not always Do Your Best and Be Rewarded. The endings feel true, feel like struggles that we average people deal with. An ant who leads his colony to a better life they didn't know existed, a rat who proves that art can come from anywhere, a toy who just wants to be appreciated but knows his purpose is to make a child happy. These are the New Fairy Tales. In a Pixar movie, you can aspire to and be anything, even if it's not what you originally planned. The little guy can be great and the big guy can step aside and let someone else shine. There are other computer animated movies that we love, but no company has been as consistent for us as Pixar has, parents and kids.<br /><br />So while I look back at my childhood movie experiences and grimace a bit, I really hope that the excitement and entertainment that my kids have with my husband and I (and occasionally, Grandma) stays just as exciting when they're older with children. Hopefully, they'll live in a Pixar world, too.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-20468146540791299072010-08-25T18:43:00.002-04:002010-08-25T18:57:06.915-04:00StandoffOur eyes meet and in that second, I know - <br /><br />if I give in now, it's going to be this tough for the rest of our lives.<br /><br />I have to stand my ground.<br /><br />I narrow my eyes and prepare myself.<br /><br />His mouth curls up a bit in the corner, a dead giveaway. This isn't his battle - he's having fun.<br /><br />Little butthead.<br /><br />"Sebastian," I start, until -<br /><br />"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! I don't WANT to!" explodes from that curled lip.<br /><br />"Ok." And I dive right in, ready to wrestle him for the batteries to the remote that he has successfully removed.<br /><br />The Battle for Things Baz Should Not Have continues.<br /><br />And he's getting stronger.<br /><br />KatKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-65074275056282540282010-08-24T11:36:00.002-04:002010-08-24T12:08:23.881-04:00Summer of 2010The summer is officially winding down here in the Thomas corner of the world. How do I know?<br /><br />Today's weather - high of 70. It's cloudy, we went shopping for school supplies yesterday and we start our vacation this coming weekend in the Outer Banks.<br /><br />We always take our vacation at the end of the summer for two reasons. #1, it's something to look forward to. I feel like if we took our vacation in July, August would be a bit of a letdown and the rest of the summer would zip by. #2, it's less expensive and most of the other vacationers have already gone home. So it's like having the place to ourselves.<br /><br />This summer has been a bit of a pleasant surprise and I'm very thankful for that. We anticipated that this would be another summer at home with the kids for me - I am still in job-searching mode - and I figured we would take a few day trips to places in the area, visit friends and hang out at our townhouse community's pool. Easy-breezy.<br /><br />Well, after Anabelle's first year at our public elementary school, we made quite a few family friends. Those friends told us all about the neighborhood pool, how nice it is, how great the swimming programs are and all of the activities they hold all summer long. We don't know many people in our townhouse community and most of the neighbors don't have children of the same age as ours. Joining the neighborhood pool seemed like a no-brainer, especially for Tom. He grew up belonging to his neighborhood pool and had nothing but fond memories and stories of his experiences. So it was a go.<br /><br />That spun the end of June and the entire month of July into a whirlwind. We decided that Anabelle would benefit most from joining the junior swim team and WOW did she. She began the summer as she does every year - a bit timid around the water, not interested in swimming underwater at all and not going near the deep end, not to mention the diving board or water slide. She would wear a vest to do those things. Now? She's part fish. The vest is taking up space in her closet and she is trying her very best to swim to the bottom of the deep end to retrieve toys. The deep end is 9 feet deep in the corner and she's working her way to the 10 feet side. She can also swim one lap, across the length of the competitive size pool and back, with no help and no stopping. She goes up and down the water slide and would spend all afternoon on the diving board if she could. Her confidence at the pool has soared and we are so proud of her. She even won her first ribbon in a swim meet.<br /><br />Aside from swim practices and meets, there have been weekend barbecues, Family Dinner Nights, a Family Campout with an outdoor showing of the original Star Wars that Tom set up, Sebastian's birthday party and we have met many more families. Our decision to join the pool was a rousing success.<br /><br />Outside of the pool, we've had a lot going on as well. We've had playdates with school friends, our family friends the Rodriguez's and the Brown's, Tom and I attended the Rigo's benefit for their son in heaven, Brody Bash, and the Rigo's had their 4th child, Brayden. We also had visitors from Michigan - a friend from high school, Shawn and his lovely family. We took a trip with them to DC to see the zoo and then, after a desperate quest for ice cream on that hot day, it was fun to see Belle and Baz play in the fountain by the Metro stop. Tom's officially started his last year of his 30's with a rousing gathering to see our friends and favorite celebratory band, JunkFood, with a great group of people last weekend. Anabelle went to her first concert at the invitation of a friend (The Jonas Brothers - my ears and preteen screams will never be friends) and loved it. She is very excited to be starting first grade when we return from vacation. Baz will be starting preschool and I'm excited for him to make more friends his age. Hopefully they will also be his size.<br /><br />The fall is already jam-packed with activities and commitments - I'm keeping my fingers (desperately) crossed that I will find employment soon. Aside from school, the kiddos will be playing soccer for the first time and Anabelle has joined a Girl Scouts troop, as well as keeping up with her swimming in the winter swim program. I will also be volunteering more with the PTA, as will Tom, and we have our 7th year of fantasy football to get through. Tom won the league last year and I did the year before - we need to keep this trophy in the house again. :)<br /><br />I will post again after we return from the OBX. Peace and love.<br /><br />KatKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-42574391835252827022010-06-02T19:01:00.002-04:002010-06-02T19:17:51.566-04:00...hello?Ok, so I'm a crappy blogger. I'll just go ahead and skip the explanations about where I've been and how busy life is, etc. etc. I'll just lay it all out there - I'm not a very good blogger whatsoever. You should see my journal, if you think this is bad. But, hey - here I am now. Onward and upward, yes? Here we go.<br /><br />We are currently nearing the finish line in renovating our kitchen and I could not be more excited. We have taken what was supposed to be a small project, just to spruce up the house until we can get it on the market, and turned it into this huge renovation. Ripped out the floor and the ceiling - knocked down a wall - rearranged cupboards and counters and appliances and installed a new fridge. We have (mostly) repainted and put in a new floor - the last parts are to install a new laminate counter and tile the wall behind it.<br /><br />This used to be the worst room in the house - small, dark, cramped - and yet, the room most used in the house. Now it is a complete 180 - large(r), more airy, brighter and, bonus, easier to clean! (A welcome addition, when you have a son who likes to randomly do laps around the house in the middle of meals - we're looking into seat belts for his chair at the table). The work has been going so well, I've already got plans for the rest of the house, minor ones, but still plans. It's exciting. I will post some pics soon.<br /><br />Aside from that large project, we are starting to plan for the summer. Belle will be out of school soon and we have lots of things we've wanted to do all year. We will make several trips to a friend's house on the Shenandoah river this summer, to play as well as work - his house flooded in the spring and, since he has helped us so much with our renovation, we will be helping him with repairs and repainting at the river house. Another family we are close with are expecting their 4th child, almost 2 years after losing their 3rd child to illness - we are anticipating lots of trips to visit and help where necessary. There will also be several trips to downtown DC to check out new sights and the obligatory time put in at the pool, ours, friends' and public. To wrap it all up, our yearly vacation to the Outer Banks in North Carolina for a week of beach relaxation (hopefully).<br /><br />I'm still unemployed and it still sucks. I have been on many interviews and was hired for a couple of jobs, but had to decline the offers because of day care costs. However, we are very lucky that Tom has a great position at a great company with insurance and I'm thankful for that every day.<br /><br />Aside from that, I've had a big issue come up recently that I need to vent about, but I'm running out of time and really need a good chunk of uninterrupted space to really get it out. So that will have to be a post for another time.<br /><br />If I can find my way back here, that is... :)<br /><br />KatKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-22767403042041838852010-01-30T13:15:00.002-05:002010-01-30T13:40:47.937-05:00Snow DayWe've been waiting for snow all week. The news and weather channels have been calling for 2 inches here or 4 inches there, but everyday we wake up to no snow. The kids are anxious - is winter over? We didn't get to make a snowman! The last of the snow is gone - when is there going to be more? Baz runs to the hall closet every time we get ready to go somewhere and instead of shoes, emerges with snow boots. Belle asks if she needs both layers of her coat and gloves and a scarf to take to school. Several days at the beginning of the week, she has emerged from her school with her coat in her backpack, the weather looking more like April than snowy January. It's nice to see them and their friends excited for snow - someone has to be.<br /><br />Around here, inclimate weather is much more than an inconvenience - it's a red alert, stay in and shut the doors until the all clear kind of emergency. People stock up on bread, milk, water, canned goods, shovels, and sidewalk salt like it's the coming of the Four Horsemen. For any kind of snow - even a dusting. You'd think living in a metropolitan area such as Northern Virginia would have prepared the people better for such occurrences. They have a Metro, people protest outside the Capital in all kinds of weather, fans go to Redskins' game without their shirts in December. But snow? Enough to turn even the most hard-core, oblivious to the fans sports owner into a little boy who got shoved into a snow pile while walking home. Snow is a bully, we're just the victims.<br /><br />At least for those of us who drive a luxury car and have a stubborn streak a mile wide. For the rest of us, who either have the sense to know when to drive and when not to or 4-wheel drive, snow is no problem and we don't see what all the fuss is about.<br /><br />But for now, we're curled up on the couch, having some quiet time. The kids are watching Shrek for the millionth time underneath blankets after lunch - resting up to venture out in the snow in the afternoon. Tom and I are doing various weekend chores inbetween helping Baz build a track for his Lego trains or setting Belle up with paper and crayons for her latest masterpiece. But after posting this, I'll probably turn the computer off and open up a new book I'm reading to get lost for a little while. <br /><br />Snow days are great. If only we could have a few without snow sometimes.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-54675959391522110972009-12-03T21:00:00.002-05:002009-12-03T21:09:15.967-05:00PoetrySo...I've been writing lately. Poems. But it's been so long and I'm rusty. So just so I can keep going and practicing, I'm going to post them here so I can let them go and just kind of - grow - without me thinking about them. And I can look at them in a fresher way later on. Comments are fine - just be careful with my fragile ego, please. :)<br /><br />Simple<br /><br />i learned a long time ago<br />that simple can be dangerous<br />difficult is richer than easy<br />simple lends itself to black and white<br />i want my complicated shades of grey<br />blur the black and white<br /><br /><br />Bedtime<br /><br />a long day is over<br />full of tasks checked off<br />messes cleaned up<br />meals made and enjoyed<br />the noise ebbed away<br />leaving the hum of a sleeping house<br />in bed finally<br />pillow holding my head<br />flannel sheets curving around me<br />breathing in your scent<br />but it's too big<br />and the fabric doesn't warm<br />without you in it to hold me<br />and kiss me goodnight<br /><br /><br />Dream<br /><br />you feel so <br />real<br />to me<br />your hair sliding through my fingers<br />like rosary beads<br />touching you<br />burns a hole in my heart<br />warm smooth skin<br />i burrow into your chest<br />and throw your arms around me<br />like diving under the covers<br />close my eyes<br />and all i smell<br />is grassy soap<br />and heat<br />exhale<br />roll over<br />and i hit a wall<br />of cold space<br />you were so<br />real<br />to me<br /><br /><br />K<br />(You have no idea how long it took to publish this post and how I tried to talk myself out of it...)Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-23112107520641220122009-11-24T17:33:00.002-05:002009-11-24T18:16:03.999-05:00I'm Not Dead, Unless This Is Supposed To Be A Funny Dream...Things are in full swing here in NOVA.<br /><br />Anabelle has surpassed all my anxiety about the start of the school year. I cannot be more proud of her.<br />New School, where she knows no one and no one knows her? No problem. She's making friends and doing her own things, really starting to become more of her own person.<br />Another year of kindergarten (she was too young for public school last year, so we enrolled her in a private program and her teacher recommended to us that she have another year)? No problem - she's a bit out front of her other classmates, but that is bolstering her confidence in her abilities in a big way. Her current career goal is an artist. Before bed one night, I'm helping her read a book and I notice a picture and crayons out on her desk. I ask her why her crayons are out, after the Baz-Drawing-Train-Tracks-On-The-Carpet fiasco. She sighs dramatically and says, "Oh, Momma, I'm an ARTIST and that picture isn't done. When I'm ready, I need my crayons to be right there."<br /><br />Sebastian is growing before my eyes as well. The break from day care has been really good for him, as well as having some good Mommy time while Anabelle is at school. He's always been a great independent player, but now he makes up the best adventures. I can hear him "narrating" with his trains and cars when he plays. He's also more interested in me reading to him and we go to the library several times in the week. However he's still completely independent and stubborn - no interest whatsoever in potty training. He doesn't care if his older friends can do it, doesn't want any bribe for his efforts - no interest whatsoever. It's a bit frustrating. Otherwise, he's all about doing everything for himself and gets irritated if you even try to assist. He is also perfecting his Jedi Mind Trick:<br /><br />Baz: "Momma, I have snack?"<br />Me: "I'm making dinner - we'll eat soon."<br />Baz; "Please, you want to give me a snack?"<br />Me: "Not now."<br />Baz: "You WANT to!"<br /><br />Tom is doing great - he's been having Band Practice sporadically with his old band mates from high school. Work is the same - prepping computers for new employees, doing maintenance on computers for people who don't know how to use them. He has amusing conversations with Dell's Tech Support People. They apparently can't end a tech chat - the customer has to. Tom also had the good luck of being a big fan of Faith No More and being friends with a guy who's as big a fan as he is - a friend won tickets to the first show of their first tour after ten years apart, at the Brixton Academy in London. So he got to check out an amazing show and go to London. Yea, a little bit jealous.<br /><br />As for me, I'm still on the search for gainful employment - mostly taking care of and enjoying the kiddos and doing house stuff. Turned 30 in October and had an appropriate blowout, thanks to Tom and friends. Received a surprise visit by Red just in time for my actual birthday and Halloween - that was a great present. And while things are a bit tough right now, I'm still very thankful for what we have.<br /><br />And there's an update.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-85924336146224627972009-07-17T09:00:00.000-04:002009-07-17T12:23:26.304-04:00The Half-Blood Prince: Half the book made into a Whole MovieThe latest Harry Potter movie opened Wednesday night at midnight and yes, I was excited. Since I no longer have to worry about being at work at a certain point each day, I decided this was an occasion to stay out late and have some alone time. At least, alone being without my kids or the husband. I couldn't help all the other people who wanted to see the movie straightaway also.<br /><br />I caught on to the book series the summer I graduated from high school, through a friend who was also recommended the book by a friend. The first chapter of the first book was a bit of a slog, but after that, I was hooked. For the end of the series in 2007, I re-read the entire series. My favorites in particular are Prisoner of Azkaban, Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. They all have their charms, but Azkaban I can read stand-alone and be satisfied and the final two books are just an amazing contrast from how they all started, with Sorcerer's Stone.<br /><br />Like any book person I know, it's tough to watch the film adaptation and be satisfied. The only one that immediately comes to mind is Silence of the Lambs - the movie is exactly the same as the book. But that's an entirely separate argument.<br /><br />I wanted to enjoy HBP - I did enjoy it. Just not as much as I would have if they hadn't left half the book out. Yes, I realize they have to cut a lot - it's a long book and the average movie-goer doesn't want to sit in a theater for 4 hours watching a sentence-by-sentence copy of the book. But there were also scenes added to the movie that were <span style="font-weight:underline;">not in the book at all.</span> If they had room to add crap that they made up or took from a future book, then they had room to get in the important stuff. <br /><br />Spoilers ahead, if you haven't read the book or seen the movie.<br /><br />The movie opens with an entirely new scene - No Dursleys, just Harry in a coffee shop getting hit on by a hot chick. Nothing wrong with that in terms of plot - except in the book, Harry is visited by Dumbledore while still at the Dursleys and he gives them the talking-to that I've been waiting for since book one. For saving time within the movie, it's ok to be cut, but in terms of enjoyment - I really wanted to see that scene on the big screen.<br /><br />The movie progresses nicely and we get to Harry's first "lesson" with Dumbledore, where we see Dumbledore visiting Tom Riddle in his orphanage. No earlier memory of his mother, grandfather and uncle in the shack - something that is definitely necessary in the next book. In the book, Harry's lessons with Dumbledore are to help him learn about Voldemort and how to defeat him. In the movie, these moments are glossed over, showing only 2 memories in the entire movie and no discussion of additional Horcruxes beyond the one they seek out at the end of the movie.<br /><br />Harry and Ginny's relationship was also pared down to tension-filled encounters and a tiny kiss in the Room of Requirement. This was also a necessary plot device - the small amount of time he had with her in the book, being happy, confiding in her - it gives Harry more reason to continue on after Dumbledore's death, it gives him motivation to try to get rid of Voldemorte, so he can be free and normal after Voldemorte's gone. Not to mention that Harry thinks Ginny's hot and he's a boy, after all. :)<br /><br />The scene where Ginny and Harry kiss is also a disappointment for another reason - in the movie, Ginny is helping Harry hide his Potions book in the Room of Requirement so no one will ever find it. In the book, Harry is hiding this book alone and he hides it in a cabinet, covering it up with a bust of an old wizard and puts a tiara on his head, so he can find it later. This scene is crucial in Deathly Hallows because the tiara turns out to be a Horcrux. How is Harry supposed to know where to find it if he's busy snogging Ginny? It's only going to make for awkward re-telling in Deathly Hallows' movie version.<br /><br />No Tonks and Lupin - an unnecessary attack/ambush at the Wesley's house - no Ginny/Harry breakup at the end - NO FUNERAL/REMEMBRANCE FOR DUMBLEDORE - no stalking of Harry by the new Minister of Magic - no Order of the Phoenix - no attack of Bill by Fenrir Greyback - and the final scene of the movie had Harry and Hermione talking in a tower of the castle with Ron just off to the side. Not a single line from him. What the hell?? I admit, in the movies previous, there's has been a bit of shunting to the side for Ron's character. But it was blatant at the end - the core of the HP series is Harry, Ron and Hermione's friendship. I felt this scene was really unjust to Ron's character.<br /><br />Everything that I loved about this book was snipped and resized to be bits and pieces of a movie. If I had never read the books, I probably would have liked it a lot. I won't deny that it was good and I did enjoy it. It just wasn't what it should have been. HBP was so different from the books before it - except for the fact that it was a book about wizards, it was very real. A book about kids at school, going about their normal routines, liking boys/girls, complaining about schoolwork and teachers, playing sports - intermixed with very real and scary things. Terrorist attacks on their friends' family's, government reports and safety warnings, being searched at school for dangerous items. In the middle just happened to be a story about a boy who is the only one who can save them.<br /><br />Yes, it's not the greatest book that was ever written and it's pure fairy tale with real-life reflections - but aside from all the escapist fun, it was a fairy tale that made me believe, maybe, just maybe, if this were real, there would be a majority of people who would sacrifice their lives in the same way, for the good of everyone. This movie did not make me feel that - I merely wished for more popcorn.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-87611225374490561882009-07-14T21:05:00.001-04:002009-07-14T21:32:29.799-04:00Eating for 1 vs. Eating for 1/2 of 1I've never been a person who "dieted". It was always an evil word and an evil philosophy to me - starve yourself to fit into a certain size? No thanks, I'd rather have a cheeseburger. I abhorred the idea of being one of those girls who ate salads at every meal - I like salads, but they are the first course or the side dish that complements the REAL meal. <br /><br />(Yes, yes, here comes the disclaimer - I've been tall and rather thin most of my life. Yes, I have nothing to complain about because I'm still within my BMI. But this is a blog, not an article on eating disorders in the Post, so I'm going to keep going.)<br /><br />Until lately, that is. I have since become a quasi-dieter. I signed up for Weight Watchers a few weeks ago, to help lose some of the weight I gained with Belle and Baz. It's a good program, stressing small portions, lots of veggies and fruit and water, and they have lots of resources. I have been doing well - lost 7lbs. since June 21st. I've also been ramping up the exercise.<br /><br />But the lazy person inside of me, who doesn't care if I get tired walking up stairs or if I have a huge bowl of ice cream before bed is annoyed with me. She reasons with me when I'm at my most vulnerable - early afternoon and after the kids are asleep. "Hey," she whispers. "There is ice cream in the freezer in the basement. It would taste SO good right now, while you're sitting in bed, watching True Blood. It would just be a little treat." Or driving around with the kids, running errands and driving past a favorite restaurant like California Tortilla or Red Robin and just not wanting to go home and make myself a healthy turkey sandwich with the awesome pears we just got at the store and a glass of milk. It's good, I love it, but somehow, it's just not as satisfying.<br /><br />I'm all for healthy body image - losing 10-20lbs is not a life-and-death thing for me. I'll be ok if I'm this weight for the rest of my life, if I can at least control the landslide. :) It's also awesome to have a goal, like not having my child pull up my shirt, poke me in the belly and say, giggling, "Your tummy is squishy, Mommy," or to worry about whether or not I'm mooning the neighbors at our pool when I climb out after swimming with the family. It's frustrating that I'm so weak. Damn this human fallibility.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-52079706983529697572009-07-13T14:11:00.000-04:002009-07-13T15:06:54.584-04:00Sucker-punched by the bureaucracyHello. It's a bit obvious that I'm not very good at the blogging thing...so here's my attempt to restart. <br /><br />I am jobless again, as of Friday - while I don't really want to go into details, because it sucked, I'm a little relieved. All the balls that were in the air in regard to my responsibilities, any issues my kids had, where my oldest was going to start school - they fell to the ground and I didn't care. The pressure is off. Belle will go to school down the street, just like I did when I was growing up, and she'll do great. For now, we'll have the summer off to do as we please - playdates, days at the pool, our own cool fields trips and then we head to the Outer Banks in August.<br /><br />The weather has been great, thank goodness. However, it's just started to get to that sticky, nasty, humid-hot. We finally caved and turned on the AC. We lasted until the second week of July! Not bad at all...especially with the electric bill being so low right now.<br /><br />Baz's birthday is soon - can't believe he's turning 3. He's obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine - he knows all the engines, what color they are and what number they are. He plays with them with Anabelle and by himself. Such a big boy. Anabelle will be 6 in the fall and we went to the elementary school to register her today. Incredible. Didn't I just give birth to her? Now she's tall and sweet and explaining things she learns at school like how caterpillars are baby butterflies and that botany is the study of plants. They are such amazing kids, they can't be mine. <br /><br />And I hear one of them screaming my name...until next time. :)<br /><br />KKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-72147180110090652802009-05-16T12:51:00.000-04:002009-05-16T13:01:03.331-04:00DerailedHello readers and passersby -<br /><br />Sorry the long wait between posts. I hurt my back about two weeks ago and have been visiting the chiropractor and lying on ice packs along with all the usual comings and goings. Still shuttling my daughter back and forth to school each day, which takes about 45 minutes both ways not including major DC traffic happenings. Still job searching - a post with a school down the road from the school I used to work for sent me a rejection letter and that's the only interview I've been on since losing my job. However, a little bit of hope came my way on Wednesday - I have a job interview for this Wednesday.<br /><br />I've had some ideas for blog posts as well as an idea for a couple of short stories - I don't want to say anything about the ideas, as when I usually say anything, the wind leaves the sails and all creative momentum is lost. I've started some work and as usual, things get in the way, but I'm trying to make sure I don't forget about it completely. The blog posts at least will be up soon - maybe a bit of the stories if I get up the nerve. <br /><br />Until then. :)<br /><br />KKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-85970245410914126022009-05-06T21:04:00.000-04:002009-05-06T21:18:48.986-04:00RandomAnd now for something not relevant to anything going on anywhere in the world at all...<br /><br />I'm drinking a glass of red wine (Cabernet Sauvignon) with a bowl of apple cinnamon generic Cheerios for dinner.<br /><br />Yes, I realize how horrible that sounds. It's actually not bad.<br /><br />This is, however, a perfect reflection of the Way Things Go around here. At least once or twice a weeknight, the evening has been such chaos for one reason or another, that I'm throwing together whatever seems convenient before going to bed for a Dead Man's sleep (that is, dead-to-the-world-sleep where you fall asleep and then, it seems, are just as quickly awake at 6am). I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, with or without kids.<br /><br />Currently, the Way Things Go around here involves a special bathtime ritual for my daughter, who has eczema, hockey playoffs (Go Wings! Go Caps!), making two round-trip drives to my daughters' school to drop her off, come home, go pick her up later and come home yet again (during prime DC area traffic times when I'm already driving 2 suburbs away) and trying to do job searches and fill out job applications while entertaining a very physical and excitable almost-3-year-old. <br /><br />A little crazy...<br /><br />Also in the midst of all of this, last night my neighbors were having a mini-Rave/Techno music studio session at 2:30am right next to my son's room. It was a very early day today. Once my son wakes up, he won't go back down until I'm with him, which is something we're working on. I have no shame in saying I woke my husband up and told him to go next door and yell at our neighbors, since I couldn't do it myself. Also, today Tom told me they were piggy-backing on our house wireless network. Nice.<br /><br />Oh, yes, did I mention wine makes me a bit rambly?Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-31464478884554035042009-05-01T21:11:00.000-04:002009-05-01T21:33:01.497-04:00Ritual<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9VergA2fFgZK4OvZk08jXL_dZD3Qw39jZGbPTWNnSu2ExzC7Ezt6K5zePSZLgDBMAyvruWSJ7ZIc9Nma0cUbj3wYvom5cjUZamU_8JIvl4AkXtkxWtvtjKVJaON8erRfrLRVIUeKhyphenhyphens/s1600-h/photo-731151.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9VergA2fFgZK4OvZk08jXL_dZD3Qw39jZGbPTWNnSu2ExzC7Ezt6K5zePSZLgDBMAyvruWSJ7ZIc9Nma0cUbj3wYvom5cjUZamU_8JIvl4AkXtkxWtvtjKVJaON8erRfrLRVIUeKhyphenhyphens/s320/photo-731151.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331028217199371218" /></a></p><br /><br />On a nightly basis, this is where you will find me between about 7:45 - 9:30pm on average. Sitting up against my son's crib in the dark, listening to music on my iPod and catching up on the "news" or writing on my laptop. All while holding my son's hand, through the bars of the crib until he falls asleep. I leave his room every night with the indentation of the bar slats in small, red strokes down my wrist and forearm.<br /><br />I complain about this ritual consistently - "If only he could fall asleep on his own!" The time I would get back! The soreness of my back and ass could go away! He would get more sleep, not having my left hand to play with and kiss, like lovey - and I would lose the ability to type REALLY well with one hand (seriously, I'm freakishly good at it now). <br /><br />Secretly? I love it. I love the way his fat little fingers hold my hand, sometimes just my index finger, sometimes squeezing the whole bunch. I love how when he's upset, he strokes my thumb's fingernail like a prayer bead - again and again and again. When he's wide-awake and I'm exhausted, ready for him to just magically pass out - I love the little games that he plays with my fingers and whatever toy currently has his fancy that he must sleep with. Right now, it's his Thomas trains.<br /><br />Ok, I totally admit it - sometimes I even look forward to this time. It can be great - alone in the dark, having time almost to myself and reading or writing down a new idea. Or just listening to the sounds out his open window when the weather is nice and the wind is breezing through and his breathing is slow and soft and content... <br /><br />When he's been read to and cuddled, kissed goodnight and laid down on his pillow, his little voice calling, "I want your hand, Mommy," it's just the sweetest sound. <br /><br />It was the same way with my daughter - we had the same ritual. Reading time, then some cuddle time, kisses and hugs and goodnights and then - "Mommy, will you snuggle me?" Who the hell can say no to that?<br /><br />Guess when she started going to sleep on her own?<br /><br />Just a few weeks ago.<br /><br />I'm doomed to be happily tortured every evening from 8-9 for at least another year or two.Kathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6257010756437845213.post-11522713270362302062009-05-01T16:56:00.000-04:002009-05-01T19:15:42.825-04:00Field DayJust back from a field trip with my daughter's kindergarten class. Lots of fun in the woods. It was a Field Day at Lake Fairfax with all the trimmings - picnic outside, singing patriotic songs while accompanied by acoustic guitar (This Land is Your Land), playing Tug of War and Sharks & Minnows (which I think is just Capture the Flag) and plenty of hiking. My daughter had a blast. My son, who is younger, came as well and had fun making me chase after him. He thought it was very cool to hang out with the big kids.<br /><br />I was let go from my job almost 2 weeks ago and while it's been sucky and stressful - it was really nice to be free today and to just hang out with my kids on a school trip. Instead of having to worry about when I'd have to be back to work, we were just playing and having fun.<br /><br />The being-laid-off thing has been a huge curve ball...our situation has been ideal for so long and of course, everything was set up perfectly in regards to having manageable school care for the kids while still bringing home some kind of income. I suppose it was only a matter of time before fate threw a wrench into the whole thing. I don't have a problem with change, per se - I have a problem with writing resumes and filling out applications.<br /><br />It's a very humbling experience - almost depressing. Taking a good, hard look at your working life and realizing, "Wow. I haven't done a damn thing." It's especially difficult since I've never finished college - one thing or another, usually having to do with money, always got in the way. Nothing like getting knocked down further when you're trying to pull yourself up.<br /><br />Thank goodness for days like today, when the most important thing in the world to your daughter is having her mommy come on her class trip. Also right up there is having your son kiss your boo-boo's - right after he's done giving you the boo-boo's. :) (We call him Tank)<br /><br />KKathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16937848490023537617noreply@blogger.com0