limited time only - for Emery

So Weeb is out of town and heartbroken that she is missing Emery's birthday. She was sweet enough to take the time to create a video birthday card. Emery and Weeb have been bonded for almost every second of Emery's nine years. Emery is so lucky to have a great grandma and Weeb, I know you know that this is not just any ordinary girl. I am lucky to love you both!

observations (for Kami)

Okay, Sister, you're right. The blog is stagnant. Without spending too much time downloading my embarrassing trove of chicken pictures and revamping the entire site into the urban chicken blog, this is the best I've got.

It's official. I am Too Old to sleep on the floor. I can't even count the times Kami and I slept on the family room floor, or my bedroom floor or on the pathetic hide-a-bed (as good as floor!) But in a strange inverse relationship, being older and weighing more doesn't translate into padding and therefore better sleep. The truth is Gravity now just violently presses you into the planet. And it hurts. Emery had a sleepover at Weeb's house, and so Quinn and I planned a big fort sleepover. Many blankets were used in the preparation of this fort. Several were laid down as the "mattress." Immediately after lying down I started yearning for my Aero Bed. And by my Aero Bed, I mean Weeb's 2nd Aero Bed that usually lives at my house, but she had to borrow it back from me. (Rude, yes.) But I was trying to be a good sport. I tried to keep this good attitude as I lay next to my Velcro Child, who always keeps a body part touching mine. I soothed myself, thinking "someday he'll be too cool to sleep with his mom" and just tried to be grateful. Then one cat arrived. This too I tried to absorb graciously. Then another cat arrived and decided to start a fight with cat #1. At this time both cats were evicted unceremoniously. Excellent. Now they head into laundry room. To eat. Crunch, crunch. I counted the bites until finally I fell asleep. Everytime I woke up (hourly? semi hourly?) new parts of my body were hurting. I was convinced that my rib cage had partially collapsed. My hips took the worst of it though and this was when I started to think about the disservice that my padding is doing for me. On so many levels. Toss, turn, readjust, doze and repeat until 3:30 a.m. I'm awake. The chickens are awake and cheeping happily. Someone is scratching in the cat box. Each sound in the basement is serving to magnify my rage, so finally (3:59) I head upstairs and climb into bed with Matt. He chuckles as he realizes that I jumped ship. My own bed felt so delicious! Any disparaging thoughts that I have had about the mattress or even our pathetic bedframe - I retract all of these. So there you have it. I won't sleep on your floor, or mine. I won't sleep on your hooty little Thermarest masquerading as an "air mattress." It's Vanagon, true mattress, couch- and I reserve the right to refuse the couch - or no deal from here on out.

I never thought of myself as a guerrilla either

(with gratitude and apologies to Jonathan Franzen. I stole this from The Corrections. I just reread this for the 4th? 5th? time to find that he wrote this paragraph about me. Matt of course was delighted to hear himself referred to as the Governing Force at last.)

"Six days a week several pounds of mail came through the slot in the front door, and since nothing incidental was allowed to pile up downstairs- since the fiction of living in this house was that no one lived here- Enid faced a substantial tactical challenge. She didn't think of herself as a guerrilla, but a guerrilla was what she was. By day she ferried materiel from depot to depot, often just a step ahead of the governing force. By night, beneath a charming but too-dim sconce at a too-small table in the breakfast nook, she staged various actions: paid bills, balanced checkbooks, attempted to decipher Medicare co-payment records and make sense of a threatening Third Notice from a medical lab that demanded immediate payment of $0.22 while simultaneously showing an account balance of $0.00 carried forward and thus indicating that she owed nothing and in any case offering no address to which remittance might be made. It would happen that the First and Second Notices were underground somewhere, and because of the constraints under which Enid waged her campaign she had only the dimmest sense of where those other Notices might be on any given evening. She might suspect, perhaps, the family-room closet, but the governing force, in the person of Alfred, would be watching a network newsmagazine ...and there was a non-negligible possibility that if she opened the closet door a cascade of catalogues and House Beautifuls and miscellaneous Merrill Lynch statements would come toppling and sliding out, incurring Alfred's wrath. There was also the possibility that the Notices would not be there, since the governing force staged random raids on her depots, threatening to "pitch" the whole lot of it if she didn't take care of it, but she was too busy dodging these raids to ever quite take care of it, and in the succession of forced migrations and deportations any lingering semblance of order was lost, and so the random Nordstrom shopping bag that was camped behind a dustruffle with one of its plastic handles semi-detached would contain the whole shuffled pathos of a refugee existence..."

Behold "my" corner of the bedroom. Hidden from view by the bed, this is one of the last areas of wilderness in the house. I encourage Matt to just stay away from my side entirely. But occasionally he too will stage a raid, and gather up things that have lingered on my nightstand for longer than is proper. These are then placed in a bag next to my own cache. But it makes him feel better!

I love a man in a class-A uniform

So this is a brag piece celebrating Matt's success as an adjunct trainer for the fire department. He spent 3 months helping to train eight new firefighter recruits. They graduated on January 9th with much pomp and circumstance (hence the class-A uniform) and the class was declared a great success. It was really amazing watching Matt be recognized as "the best of the best" from his department and seeing him actually accept some of the praise. This from a man who gets uncomfortable when you give an innocent compliment like "you look nice in those jeans."

Anyway, I've read a fancy blog or two that let their readers submit questions and then post the replies. I like this idea in theory, but I get hung up on some of the requirements:

a) readers

b) patience, follow-through, planning, etc.

As such here are a few anticipated questions...........

Q: Amanda, why haven't you called in 11 weeks?

A: Brutal schedule changes were enacted for all family members in order to make this possible. Everyone had to sacrifice, and being friendly was one of the first things to go.

Q: He was working four 12 hour days. Wasn't it nice having him sleep at home every night?

A: The short answer is YES. The long answer is that he would fall asleep before I could tuck the kids in most nights, and that he snores when he is really exhausted.

Q: Best unexpected benefit of Matt's temporary job change?

A: He hardly spent any money for three months. A milestone in our marriage.

Q: But what about gas money, driving out to the training tower?

A: Nope. He only drove FOUR times in 11 weeks. He rode his bike in the rain, the snow, and the bog to the tune of around 500 miles of exertion on top of the grueling workouts and other physical demands of this job.

Q: How awesome is it to have your husband speak just after the mayor?

A: Pretty awesome.

Q: Is he really that cute in his uniform? I mean Matt, not the mayor?

A: Fortunately, yes.

Congratulations, Friend. It was worth it.

sigh

I read this, and was reminded (again) that I really have no business blogging.

fierce CONK

Some of you may have doubted that Quinn actually has a forehead. Let this post remove all doubt. But thank goodness for the giant mop of hair covering this awesome goose egg.

Violet Beauregard knew what was up

If you don't work with me then you might not know my fiercest addiction. Sure, I like a Coke pretty much every day, ideally with lunch but that's just once a day. Almost every day that I work, I chew 5 or 6 pieces of gum. I love it. I buy big stockpiles at Costco. If I'm out I'll beg shamelessly from anyone I work with. I spent a couple hours at the ENT this summer, trying to figure out why my ear hurt all the time. Turns out it's pain from my jaw - hello, TMJ - and he challenged me to go without gum for two weeks. I went back to work and gave away what I had in my drawers and tried to be good. For the most part I made it. Sometimes I'd just have a little quarter-piece and keep it in my mouth. I worried that I'd have to eat constantly to keep myself from chewing but that wasn't true. The real consequence: Rage. I really think that chewing gum lets me get rid of the little stresses that accumulate during my day. I found myself unaccountably upset at work without the gum. And I was really disappointed to find out that it did help with the ear. So, like a guilty smoker, I've gradually reincorporated it into my day. I do have to cut back a little - I'll notice my ear start to hurt or I'll wake up with an earache if I don't.

Anyway, lucky for me there has been a wonderful surge of gourmet gum coming into the market. It's so fantastic! You read articles on fancy small batch bourbons or olive oils, local artisanal cheeses. But after how many years on the market, gum makers are finally stepping up with some innovation. Yesterday at the store I picked up three new flavors that I've never tried! New brands are flourishing, cool packaging has been developed(yes, I'm a sucker for that). But oh the flavors!

Since I find myself in something of a position of authority (do you know anyone else who has actually destroyed their jaw joint chewing gum?) I'd like to provide a layman's guide to the chewing gum marketplace. Think of me as something like a sommelier.

Stride Gum
Highly recommended for the cuteness of the package. After you have eaten half of the pieces, you can downsize the package. Try the Nonstop Mint or the Sweet Cinnamon. I like the Sweet Peppermint too.

Orbit Gum
Probably the biggest assortment as far as flavors go. Naturally, you must have the Sweet Mint. The Mint Mojito is divine. But you might surprise yourself by really liking the Maui Melon Mint. Positively Pomegranate is hard to find, but excellent if you can get your hands on it.

5 Gum
A flat little pack, posh-looking. The old-school, normal-sized sticks. The flavors have fancy names. Try the Flare which is a pretty fierce cinnamon . There are 2 flavors I haven't tried: Lush and Elixir. Feel free to do your own research and report back to my gumchewing institute.

Extra Gum
Sorry, traditionalists. Extra is a little bit antiquated. Their flavors are basically unchanged, the old packs were always falling apart, and the new "Slim Pack" is kind of "too little, too late." Worth borrowing or begging in a pinch, but otherwise, please see the other contestants.

Trident Gum
The old standards are the best here. Original Peppermint will always hold a special place in my heart. Sweet Minty Twist is a good flavor with a lame name. The ones with the gooey stuff inside are not my style. Their website boasts a gum selector thingy you can try if you need additional information!

Well that's all for now. I'll try to keep you all abreast of major developments in this fascinating field.