Another Fickle Young Voter

Remember A trying to get us to turn on the TV with pleas to watch John Kerry? This morning's conversation:

A: Teletubbies? Sesame Street?

L: No, no TV right now.

A: Stanley? Wiggles?

L: Sorry, buddy, no TV right now.

A: (sigh) John Kerry?

L: I don't think John Kerry is on right now.

A: (pause, thinks) Bush? George Bush?

He's barely 2 years old! He obviously takes after his papa with the political/news obsession. We don't coach him (really!) but G does watch a lot of cable news shows, especially lately. So of course we had to turn on Meet The Press. I mean, we do want him to be informed. Now I've just got to get him addicted to "Ellen."

Thoughts on the New Tape

Hmmm. The news people keep saying Bin Laden seemed "conciliatory." I guess when you consider his previous missives, he was pretty mellow this time. But "conciliatory" sems a little strong - it wasn't like he was saying, "Hey, guys, can't we all just get along?"

I thought it was interesting that he didn't denounce either Bush or Kerry...maybe he's still undecided.

Fishies and Butterflies

Every year around my birthday, G plans a short family trip for us. This year I wanted to take A to see the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It's awesome, but it gave me nightmares about chaperoning A's field trips when he gets into school. We spent much of the day dodging middle-schoolers with clipboards. G and I were exhausted from chasing A around, and there were two of us and one of him. I can't imagine trying to corral six hyper kids.

We took a family photo inside a clam shell, and saw tons of very pretty jellyfish.



A slept on the way down, so of course there was no nap for him in the afternoon, which meant no rest for the aquarium-weary parents. But G showed the ultimate in spousal devotion and took him for a walk while I napped. He got a whole lot of points for that.

Today we had a leisurely "continental" breakfast in the hotel and then walked to the beach. It was a beautiful day, so we also checked out the monarch sanctuary. It's the wildest thing - millions of monarch butterflies winter in this tiny park in Pacific Grove. They hang like barnacles on the eucalyptus tress, and at first you can't see them. But as they start to wave their wings, you see that what looks like leaves are thousands and thousands of orange and black butterflies. It's wild.

Happy Blog-Day to Me

Just realized my blog's birthday was a week and a half ago. Everyday Lunasea has been a presence on the web for a year now! She started out as "La la la la lemon", which I still think is a cool name for a blog, but only Sesame Street fans understood it, so we changed her name to Everyday Lunasea.

And my real birthday is tomorrow. I can't help but notice that nothing on my wish lists (to the left) has been bought. How can I help you if you won't help yourself?

We're heading to Monterey this weekend for an overnighter. Everyone asks, "Oh, are you leaving A?" No. I actually want to bring him. I'm excited to show him the fishies because I think he's going to spin into ecstasy. He tends to be very enthusiastic, which I'm usually happy about. The leader of story time at the library today said, "Gosh, he's so animated! Especially for someone his age!" Yeah, well, all the other 2-year-olds are jaded.

Sometimes it can be embarrassing. Last year at Thanksgiving, he nearly passed out from excitement when my sister turned the lamp on and off in the family room. We do have electricity at home, too, I reminded him. You'd think we raised him in a dungeon.

More Nightmares

A. may have had his first nightmare last night. He hasn't woken up crying in months, but there he was, sobbing, at 6:30am. So G. brought him into our bed. He crawled over to me, laid across my chest with his head on my left shoulder and his shoulder in my neck, then sacked out again in that position. It was sweet and quite uncomfortable at the same time.

We've been quite stressed here in the Lunasea household. We decided to move our office to a location closer to our home. It's a great big beautiful office, and a shorter commute, but I had to tell my clients today that I was moving my practice. For some of them who drive, it's no big deal and they'll follow me there. For others, including a high schooler whom I've seen for over a year, it means the end of our work together, which made me very sad. Professionally, it's a good move. Personally, I'm connected to these people and I'm sad.

We're watching Larry King interview John Kerry's daughters. And besides being distracted by the huge LiteBrite behind him, I'm noticing the blonde one (Vanessa?) has some kind of large writing on her right forearm. Anyone know what that is? I thought it might be triathalon numbers, but those are usually on the upper arm. If it's a tattoo, what the heck is it supposed to be?

Apropos of nothing, my niece got a tattoo of a crescent moon with stars wrapped around it on her big toe when she was 18, and 10 years later it looks like Chiquita Banana. (I thought it looked like Chiquita Banana from the very beginning, but she finally sees it now, too). She's considering pretending it's a gang symbol so she can get it removed for free. The Banana Gang.

Wow, Clinton looks skinny. He almost looks frail. I wish he'd timed his bypass a bit later, like after the election, or two years ago. A bit of bad planning on the part of his body. 'Course, his body is no stranger to bad planning.

"I'm Chiquita Banana and I've come to say,
You better get the hell outta my way." Heh heh.

Oh Man, That Was Scary

I had the worst nightmare: I was stuck in a land with an old Windows 98 laptop, AOL 4.0 and a dial-up modem. I called tech support, but you know how phones work in dreamland - the cordless receiver's battery gave out and the tech guys kept hanging up on me and then the tech guy said, "Now OUR system's down - I'll have to call you back." I couldn't move the phone closer to the computer so I could use the speakerphone (remember, the handset's battery died) because my husband had taped AND THUMBTACKED the cords to the bottom of the table and I couldn't get them undone. I was out for the evening when they finally called back and G. had to field the calls but he didn't know that the password had been changed earlier that day to ALL CAPITALS and it was a huge mess.

Oh, and you were there, and you were there, and you too, Toto! But you couldn't hear me! It was awful!

And, the worst part, it wasn't a nightmare at all! But, I'm back and all is right with the world once again. Phew.

Blogexplosion: The mystery credits remain, indeed, a mystery.

Go Red Sox! (sorry, H) I always root for the underdog.

G wants to create a website for our private practice. We're moving in together (Oh! The committment!) into a new, big, bright office across the bridge. As the house's unoffical webmaster, I have been tasked with creating this website. Does anyone know of any good, business-like FREE templates I could use? And what about hosting sites? Are you pleased with yours? We don't mind paying around $12-15 a month, and don't need much except good tech support.

Telegram

DSL CONNECTION DOWN STOP STUCK ON OLD AOL BROWSER AND DIAL-UP AND OLD LAPTOP STOP WITHDRAWAL PAINS BAD STOP WILL CONTACT AGAIN WHEN CONNECTION REESTABLISHED STOP

Deep Thoughts

Why I Never Read My Horoscope: Today it says, "You can either make someone happy or make life miserable." Just as I'm thinking, Hey, that's not such a bad choice, it goes on...."Ask yourself where you want to be farther down the line and act from that place." What the hell does that mean? That it's OK to "make life miserable" if it'll get me where I want to go? Also, is it my life I'm making miserable, or someone else's? Did Bush get this horoscope before he invaded Iraq? These are important points that aren't covered by Christopher Renstorm in the newspaper.

Overexposed: Does it bother anyone else that Terry O'Quinn is the assistant director of the CIA on "Alias," the high-ranking general on "West Wing," and the crazy guy stranded on the island in "Lost" this season? I didn't think so. Oh, and does it bother anyone else that John Amos, who used to be General Fitzwallace on "West Wing," keeps getting killed off every series he's on? OK, I only remember him as the dead dad in "Good Times", but still.

Oh, oh, and that reminds me - if one of the characters on ER falls in love with you, RUN AWAY as fast as you can. They are seriously jinxed.

Speaking of Lost: (and we were a while ago...) One big story here is that there are a bunch of missing hikers in the Sierras. so what does Channel 2 News do? They go to REI to interview the clerks about products to help hikers. They show racks of space blankets and some balding sales clerk who has every confidence that the hikers are in good shape because maybe they had stuff from REI. So for a story on hunger do you interview a grocery store clerk?

Storm Watch '04: We had RAIN here for a day and a half. Couple inches, at least. And the WIND! You shoulda seen it! Maybe 60 MPH! Really big puddles! After watching Frances and Ivan rip apart Florida, it's hard to get excited about California rain.

Get Busy: There are exactly 7 shopping days left until my birthday. I will, however, accept late gifts.

Rackin' Frackin' Monday

1. Got a paper cut opening junk mail.

2. Fell in the driveway of a supermarket while walking along the very busy street to my office. Just went "kerplop!" and skinned my knee. I did my very best to maintain my dignity, though. As I got up, I did NOT look around to see who was laughing at me, and I did NOT look accusingly back at the asphalt as if it had tripped me on purpose. I just brushed my hands off and moved on.

3. Got a parking ticket. Metermaids ("Parking Enforcement Officers") NEVER, EVER check this street unless there's street cleaning or I decide to park for more than 4 hours.

4. As I pulled the ticket from under the windshield wiper, I noticed the back left tire was pretty low. "Oh well," I thought, "I need gas anyway, I'll just put some air in it at the gas station." As soon as I pulled away from the curb, it became clear than the tire was fully flat, not just low on air. You know that sound of the metal rim on the asphalt? Yep. I didn't have my cell phone (left it in the diaper bag - of course) so I drove slowly to the nearest gas station. I figured I could call my emergency road service and they could change it for me. The gas station I pulled into had half the lot roped off and there was nowhere to park my car and wait. Crap. So I pulled out again, slowly crossed the busy intersection into another station. Fortunately, though, this one actually had a mechanic on site at 8:30pm and he was able to fix the hole that this big honkin' nail had made in my tire. Guess G_d decided to cut me a break.

So, I got a paper cut, skinned my knee, got a parking ticket and a flat tire. And how was your Monday?

In other news: This could go above, but it's actually kinda funny. I awoke to the dulcet tones of my toddler throwing a fit in the family room. He wasn't stopping, so I gave in and got up. G (who'd gotten up with him a full hour earlier than usual) told me in a rather tight voice before handing him over to me and going back to bed, "He wanted to watch Little People and it wasn't time for Little People." A is quite addicted to the TV, and although we are careful about what we let him watch, he'd really like to have it on all the time. So we're trying to limit it a bit, and he is not happy about it.

Anyway, he has a couple of tricks when we say "no" to the TV or videos. First, he tries bringing us the remote and instead of asking to watch TV, he'll tell us to "push green circle," like we just need to be directed on HOW to turn the TV on, or maybe we don't realize that pushing the green circle will result in the TV being turned on and by the time we realize it, it will be too late and we'll be drawn into Elmo's World.

Second, he goes through the list of shows he likes, just in case it's the show we're objecting to and not the TV. "Little People? Farm Animals? Thomas? Teletubbies? Sesame Street? Stanley? Clifford Big Dog? Dragon Tales? Wiggles? JoJos Circus?" We keep saying, "No, no TV right now." So he was very unhappy about it all this morning. Finally he handed me the remote again, and said in a very plaintive voice, "John Kerry?"

Poor guy was so desperate to watch TV he was offering to watch the cable news channels that G watches. The news channels and any red/white/blue sign is "John Kerry" to him. This weekend he pointed at an American flag at my sister's house and said, "John Kerry! Pez-ident!" That's my boy. Didn't work with the TV, though. But I gave him props for trying a new angle.

Friday Night at our House

G: Wanna try to cut my hair?

L: Are you serious? I've never cut anyone's hair.

G: Yeah, I got this nifty Vidal Sasoon hair trimmer, and I can walk you through what Irma does. I don't want to spend the money to go to her anymore.

L: Are you serious?

G: C'mon, we need a mirror.

So G sets himself up in a chair in the bathroom and I get A's stepstool and stand behind him. I read the "directions" that come with the hair trimmer and look at the cartoon pictures of "long cut" and "short cut." I turn on the hair trimmer and understand why barbers get carpal tunnel.

G: OK, so she starts with the trimmer and sort of goes like this and this (waving arms) and then she uses scissors on the top.

L: (tentatively takes trimmer to side of G's head)

G: OK, lemme see! Lemme see! Irma does it shorter.

L: I'm going slow until I get the hang of this thing! Sit down! Look at the shower! Don't be a backseat haircutter!

G: (reluctantly takes his eyes off the mirror)

L: OK, I'm getting the hang of it. There's this weird sworl of hair thing on the back of your head that I don't know what to do with. Where do I stop using the trimmer and start using the scissors?

G: You know, trimmer on the sides and scissors on top.

L: Heads are round. There's not exactly a corner between the sides and the top.

G: (checking the mirror) My hair doesn't look this thin when Irma does it.

L: OK, let me have the scissors. (pulls hair up with fingers and snips) I think we're supposed to use hair shears, not desk scissors.

G: Well, that's all we had. Irma uses the comb first and then she uses her fingers to hold the hair.

L: (rolls eyes, uses comb instead, snips a couple of times) Pppphhhhhhbt! Yuck!

G: Irma doesn't put the comb in her mouth, either.

L: Well, I don't know how I'm supposed to hold the comb and the scissors and cut at the same time.

G: Not too much off the top! Not too much off the top!

L: Sweetie, you don't have too much on top.

G: OK, it's looking OK, I guess.

G: I'll clean up. (that was my favorite part)

And that's pretty much the reaction we've gotten. No "Hey, nice haircut!" More like, "Oh, hey, you did that? Not bad." I think there are tricks so that it's not so patchy on thinning hair. Maybe you're supposed to leave the hair longer in those places. It's really not as easy as it looks. I find myself examining his head a lot more than I used to, trying to figure out this mystery of haircutting.

All in the Family

Check it out! My sister's got a blog! If you go comment on her blog, she'll get hooked like me and then we can both become obsessed and neglect our children.

Jumping on the Bandwagon

Because all the cool bloggers are doing it, I went and joined Blogexplosion (see button on the left). It's a great time-waster as it sends you to random blogs around the world. I got one by a Norwegian pastor who says, "It is good to have an hole day to spend on these things - my hope is that nothing happens so I must go other places." Isn't that the truth?

The biggest problem I see is that it catches you in a loop. You can't go check your e-mail and come back to the site you were looking at without a great deal of difficulty. And linking is tricky because it won't easily give you the URL of the blog you're looking at.

And it's a little paranoid: if you try to go to a site not on Blogexplosion a little window pops up and says, "DID YOU TRY TO CLOSE THE WINDOW OR IS THIS A RENEGADE SITE TRYING TO CLOSE ITS OWN WINDOW? REPORT IT! FIGHT TERRORISM!"

And it has directions like this: "Mystery Credits are automatically assigned to your site/s based on your auto-assign value. For example if you win 100 mystery credits a minimum of 75% of them will be auto-assigned to your sites leaving you potentially un-used credits depending on how you have set up your auto-assign value in your account." I'm a reasonably intelligent person, but I don't like having to read things three six times. Keep it simple, guys.

But no, really, I like it.

A Worthy Cause

I'm considering starting a donation fund to buy G some new fleece. He's had this blue striped fleece pullover for as long as I've known him, and as you can see, it's got a nice shawl collar straight from the early 80's plus a handwarming pouch for ice-skating. He likes to wear it while listening to Yanni. The fleece pants are skintight, but have ankle cuffs.

Please, won't you help? Stop the fleece crimes today.

(I think it's pretty clear that a fund for a new couch is next).

Debate-O-Matic III

OK, so I worked late tonight and only heard the last half hour of the debate. It was enough.

Bush: Let me say that I respect all religions since MyOpponent got to say that last time and I didn't.

Kerry: Yeah, well, I can list the Holy Books: the Koran and the Torah and I don't know what Native Americans read but they blessed me too. In fact, I used to be a priest and God told me he was on my side.

Bush: I have a painting in my office that says...it's a Texas painting, from Texas, and it says, "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful. No, that's not it. Forgive and forget, that's it!" Don't hold the past against me, look to the future! At least with me you know what you're getting!

Kerry: Yeah, well, I used to be a painter, too. Let me throw in John McCain's name a couple of times so you moderates all know he's my friend.

Bush: No fair! He's voting for me! He promised!

Kerry: My eyes are rolling so far back into my head I can't see you anymore.

Moderator: Do you like women?

Bush: I love women. They speak English.

Kerry: I know all about women. Women love me. In fact, I used to be a woman.

Tuesday Randomness

1. I picked up the toys today. We have no storage system for them yet (I want to buy something big, plastic and cheap, G wants to go all Pottery Barn on me) so it currently involves stacking the toys against the wall, but still, we can walk across the floor again. Whenever I asked A where something was, he'd answer, "Under couch!" He was often right.

2. I bought a nipple shield (not the Janet Jackson kind - this kind) the other day because nursing A has begun to feel like rubbing my boob against a cheese grater. I stuck it on (what's with there being only one in a package???) and A took one look at it, peeled it off, put it on top of my head and said, "Hat!"

3. Our neighbor's cat died the other day. Tino was a nice cat who let A poke him in the face. A has never mentioned Tino except when he's seen him outside wandering into our yard. But, the day after Tino died, A woke up saying, "Find Tino! Find Tino!" Weird. He's asked to find him twice since then. If I was groovy, I'd think Tino had visited A in his sleep to say goodbye. But I'm not that groovy so I'm just going to take it as a commentary on how we should appreciate our neighbor's cats and Find Them while they're here.

4. They should make nipple shields like condoms. They don't, and I've got a good half an inch to fill with the standard size. I've seen enough porno to know that my nipples are not that weird, although I have to admit, I didn't pay that much attention to the women's nipples. No wonder A thought it was a hat.

Miracle in California

If a dish has more than two ingredients, I need a recipe for it. The only thing I can really make without a recipe is a grilled cheese sandwich, and even those don't always turn out so well.

So it was quite a show of bravery for me yesterday to saute some shallots and garlic I found at the bottom of our fruit basket, throw in some leftover vegetables (butternut squash and potatoes), add chicken broth, boil it for a while, puree the whole thing with some leftover sour cream (without measuring or timing ANY OF IT) and then eat it! It was probably a bigger show of bravery for G. to eat it, knowing I'd made it without a recipe. He peeked into the pot and asked what I was making. "I don't know...maybe soup," I answered.

Guess what? It's really, really good! G. was very surprised and said many times last night, "Wow, this is really good! Hey, A., your mama can make tasty things out of leftover vegetables!" In fact, he was a bit too surprised and enthusiastic, if you ask me.

If you know how to cook, you'll think this is ridiculous. But people who know how to cook know things like why you saute onions until they're translucent before you add all the other stuff, how long to cook chicken, and how to add this or that to balance flavors. I am only successful with these things when what to do and in what order is typed out there in black and white. So I am very excited by my Cream of Butternut Squash Soup. If fact, I think I'll have some now - and that's quite an endorsement - I never eat my own leftovers. I'm ready to take Martha's place. On the show and in the magazine, not in prison.

Debate-O-Matic, part II

I was going to comment on the VP debate, but I can't say anything that isn't said way, way better and more humorously here.

I'm working tonight, so I only got to see the last half hour of the town-hall type meeting. Still, I saw two really good parts:

1. Bush wouldn't appoint a justice to the Supreme Court who was for slavery. Whew! That's a relief. And he knows what you're really asking there, lady with the question about the 3 mistakes...you can't trick him, you bleeding heart tree-hugger!

2. John Kerry got to mention Michael J. Fox and Superman in the same answer. Now, you can't be American and be against Marty McFly.

Client line of the week: "Were you RAPED for breakfast?" - asked of me by a man on the sidewalk whom I ended up hospitalizing. My response: "No, I had a bagel."

Maybe....

...the next male in the household will sleep quietly. A. has inherited his dad's sleep-talking/yelling tendencies. The night before last, it was, "Stuck! Stuck!" and last night it was, "Doh! Doh!" It's not a waking-up-whining cry, it's an all out yell. We do check to make sure he's not really stuck. Actually, G. checks, since it's his fault.

It reminded me of one of the campers I had as a camp counselor. It was a camp for foster children, all of whom had some trauma in their backgrounds. My camper was, by day, a sweet, mild-mannered little girl. By night, though, she became a drunken sailor and would call out all manner of swear words and phrases. I believe she used every one I'd ever heard of and several I was unfamiliar with. The trick was explaining this to the other camper in the cabin who heard it all. "Um, she doesn't know what she's saying - she's not saying it on purpose." But Whew! - the other camper had some newfound respect for her after hearing her expetive-laden rants.

Good things about having two boys....

1. They adore their mamas.
2. We won't be on the hook for expensive weddings.
3. I can avoid the Barbie thing completely - unless, of course, we have a little boy who is really into Barbie, which is a bridge we'll cross when we get there. Even the boys I know who have liked dolls, though, haven't been as ALL ABOUT BARBIE as the girls.
4. G. gets to take them to the bathroom when we're out.
5. They're less obsessive about their clothes.
6. They're less obsessive about their weight.
7. Fewer hair products.
8. Probably won't be stealing my makeup (see #3).

OK, I know these are sweeping generalizations. But I'm going to be surrounded by penises (in fact, I'm making one as we speak) so I gotta look at the bright side.

Unbelievable

When am I going to believe that I'm actually, truly pregnant? We got the results of the amnio yesterday and my main reaction was, "Really? You found chromosomes that weren't mine? There's a baby in there?" I mean, I've known for over 3 months, so you'd think I could wrap my brain around it by now. It still feels hypothetical when we talk about names or whether G. should give up his office and turn it into another bedroom.

By the way, it's a boy. So I really know they didn't accidentally pick up my chromosomes.

Mystery of the Day

Got a referral from a Google search on "fox news legs crossed problem." Any ideas on what this person was looking for?

So...what's new with you?

I haven't been writing much because I feel like freakin' crap and only want to write about how I feel like freakin' crap. And that's not very exciting. But just in case you want to know, I'm exhausted, sleepy, nauseated, itchy-nosed and now I've got a cold. I thought the worst thing was my stupid nose - I was wrong. The worst thing is the scratchy throat that makes me gag with each breath.

I feel like G. should be wheeling me outside to enjoy the sunshine in a wheelchair with an afghan over my lap.

Cute things: Took A. to ToysRUs recently and was brave enough to enter the Thomas aisle. He pointed at one of the thousand members of Thomas' family and said, "Cowbell! Cowbell!" Huh? I picked up the coach he was pointing at and it turned out the coach's name was Clarabell. I'm pretty sure he can't read yet, but still, how smart is he?

All day yesterday we had a big pile of diapers in the middle of our family room floor. A. decided that's where they should be, and took great umbrage at any attempts to remove the pile. In fact, we discovered that he not only knows the phrase, "Stop it!"; he also knows the phrase, "Leave 'lone! No! Leave 'lone!" I think he got that one from my telling him to leave the VCR alone. He keeps trying to play our Frank Sinatra CD in the VCR. We have to check it now before we try to put a tape in.

P.S. Spell checker wants to replace "freakin'" with "foreskin." I think we should take this as a commentary on circumcision.

Debate-O-Matic

My favorite line of the night: "The enemy understands a free Iraq will be a major defeat in their ideology of hatred. That‘s why they‘re fighting so vociferously."

Vociferously? I know they're pretty noisy, but I don't think the volume is the biggest problem. I think the fact that they have bombs strapped onto themselves and aren't afraid to die is more of an issue.

Actually, Bush's line about Osama bin Laden not deciding how we defend ourselves was pretty good, but didn't undo the damage (I hope). This presidential debate was the first that's ever kept my interest. I always plan to watch with the critical eye of the informed voter, and I always end up glazing over right after the handshake. But this time I did a pretty good job of following it (not too difficult on Bush's side), and was pleasantly surprised. Although it was clear Bush had been coached to always refer to "The Enemy," as if there was a generic brand of terrorist that comes from somewhere over there, the coaches didn't do a very good job of preparing him. I guess his people thought it would be enough for him to keep repeating "my opponent flip-flops," over and over and it would therefore be clear that since he's repeating the same thing over and over, Bush stands by his word. Vociferously.