Tagged Again!

Oh goodness, that Kwana gets me in trouble.

You can see my first "tag" post to get an idea of what it's all about but it seems the rules this time are:

Link to the person who tagged you. (Kwana)

Post the rules on your blog. (here they are)

List 6 unspectacular quirks you have. (ooh, I probably have more than that.)

Tag 6 bloggers by linking them.

Leave a comment on each person’s blog to let them know they’ve been tagged.

Six unspectacular quirks about me.

1. I prefer short nails. Very short. Not a manicure girl. Also keep the kids' nails very short. Long nails actually gross me out a bit.

2. I don't really like pizza. This is particularly quirky for a 1/2-Italian American girl. Used to pull all the cheese off as a kid.

3. I talk a lot. I tend to have a story for everything. I can relate to just about anybody.

4. I cannot drink coffee with milk. It must have half-and-half or really, the experience does nothing for me.

5. I have some strange desire to go against the grain on most things. An example: my daughter's wardrobe. I think she owns more blue clothing than my son. I don't buy pink for her...for him, sure.

6. Compulsive email checker.

Who can I tag? Oh...forgive me, people...pve, Seleta, Fink, googs...aigh...can some of you regular readers just comment and give them to me? C'mon, help a girl out...volunteer.

Focus on Un-focus

That makes no sense. So today, I will pepper the ol' blog with some random thoughts that are plaguing me this week.

Planning a Christening for baby girl. Still need to figure out what she's wearing. She is a GIANT BABY so we need to sort out that gown thing and I think she'll change for the reception. A little non-traditional, but so is waiting 8 months to do it. Doing a family-only thing, not as big as O's (the family budget is somewhat tighter than in those one-kid, pre-renovation days...).

On G. Already noted, she is big. Adorable. Sitting up on her own. Third tooth came in an odd place, upper (expected, since she already had lower) but like two teeth over on the left side. Looks like the next one in is another bottom. She gets woken up by it sometimes, but in the last week she has ditched her last bottle in favor of sleep. Amen.

She talks. No, not real words (yet) but she is a chatterbox already. Especially while she's half asleep. Tells us a whole story in her darling little coos and noises while she is drifting back into dreamland. It is the most charming thing ever.

O. He wrote on his face with marker today because he thought it would look "cool". Still a little green post-bath.

What the heck with this debate nonsense? So how about this...I want to know what the heck you both think about this mess we're in. How about you move the debate to DC so you're traveling less and make the topic ONLY about the economy. Then tell me what you would do about it as president. All of a sudden it's not important for us to have presidential debates? Are you kidding? C informed me that we had a debate on the day we invaded Normandy. Let's go, people.

These new "I'm a PC" ads. Get your own idea. And advertise the product you actually sell, Microsoft. You don't sell PCs.

I'm overworked. My job is actually more than full time, it feels, I'm back in the swing of fall school shuttling (which I enjoy so I can't complain), and I am taking on freelance that I do starting at oh, 10pm at night. I know...I signed up for this. All in the name of evolution, I suppose. Keeping the eye on the target.

I'm feeling fat. Crap. I have to lose a little weight. Vacation in November. Don't want people to look at me with the..."oh, well, she did just have a baby" look.

Good grief we really need to get that driveway put in.

And jeez, it makes me crazy when I have to edit the auto fill-in post labels on Blogger. If I put a comma, dammit, I don't want auto-fill.

Okay. Done now. Why is G crying.

Dinner Surprise III

I have to say it wasn't much of a surprise but it worked well!

Last night I encouraged C to grill up an entire package of yummy Italian sausage (links). I suppose I didn't judge very well but we wound up eating maybe 1/4 of it. In the fridge it went.

So I was thinking, if I just leave it in the fridge it will totally go to waste, we'll never eat it if it stays in link-form. It was grilled already; we had it with grilled vegetables and cornbread.

Planning a laid-back night at home with the kids today, I grabbed it. Yes, we were going to have sausage again, damn it.

I also grabbed an onion, some zucchini and plum tomatoes from the farm market, and a handful of chopped cilantro. I cut the sausage into somewhat thin slices.

Olive oil in the pan; onion and zucchini. Just until both started getting soft. Threw in the sausage. Let it all carmelize a bit together.


About 2 minutes before I was ready to take it off, I threw in the tomato (good-sized chunks so it didn't totally fall apart) and the cilantro.

Took a fresh Italian bread with a little butter to have with it and soak up the juice...delicious.

Woo-hoo! Success. Happy family. We even threw the vegetables in the Cuisinart and G ate some too.

Now Here's the Way To Do It

Sometimes you can learn a lot from a four-year-old.

We are blessed to live in a very diverse neighborhood and have a fabulous set of neighbors in this diversity, as you've heard me brag about before.

O was at the playground this morning and was telling me that he was playing with a girl. I asked him what she looked like, to see if I could recall meeting her before.

He described her not as blonde but her hair was a "coffee" color. He always defaults to flavors when describing people. I think this is so great. (I've mentioned he has a food/cooking thing.)

People are "vanilla", "chocolate", even "coffee". It's just how they look and how to describe them to someone else. Clearly that's the only reason he even uses terms to differentiate. There's no reason to, otherwise.

So I encourage his flavor-descriptions. So does J, my nanny, who is a different "flavor" than me.

Is this the "right" way to handle it? I don't know. We're just doing our best, trying to teach him (and ultimately G) that all people are the same. They're people. They might look different but that's about it.

Next time you need to describe someone...maybe use a flavor, and see how it feels.

Slow Down, Speed Up

Time is flying. O is four, G is almost 6 months, preschool just started, Halloween is around the corner.

Work is busy, C's work is busy, I'm blessed with a little freelance, I keep thinking about what's next for work, gosh this house needs to be cleaned. (Again. Damn construction dust never leaves.)

Paint the porch and front door, get the driveway done, landscape, finish the siding on the garage. Finish the island, paint some inside, what are we doing with that backsplash.

We have to plan G's Christening, make and send invitations. Dentist and doctors' appointments for the kids, I need a haircut...oh crap; I just realized I have double-booked myself when I was supposed to have acupuncture tomorrow. Again.

Ugh, that new printer doesn't work with the Mac OS...return it, keep it? Submit everything for the C of O.


I can't wait for our vacation in two months - yay, two months!

I can't wait for holidays this year because I missed decorating so much last year.

I can't wait to see G crawl. Take her first steps. Say her first word.

I can't wait until next year when I hopefully reach the point where I can schedule every day based on my own priorities. When I take vacation when I want to and not because of the number of days I have left.


I can't make up my mind.
Images from aslpict.blogsome.com & tell.fll.purdue.edu, respectively.

Don't Let Your Monday Ruin Your Sunday

We had our block party this weekend, on Sunday because of the rain-out on Saturday. A friend noted that she saw "Don't Let Your Monday Ruin Your Sunday" on a t-shirt on a recent vacation.

It's genius. And it's something that I personally need to remind myself of on occasion.

I was so bummed out because I just felt like I'd have a better time on Saturday. I didn't have to worry about getting the kids down at a decent hour because we had work the next day, because today happened to be a kind of full day and a full week for me, work-wise.

Why do we do that to ourselves? I continually try to work myself out of bad habits I developed when I was a young workaholic living in the city. I look back on it and think, ok, fair enough to feel that way to get ahead in your career when you're that age...but jeez, do priorities change when you have kids.

And now with two...even more so! De-program, de-program, de-program.


On a more upbeat note, we had a great time at the block party. We are too lucky, our neighbors...our friends...rock.

Karaoke, Wii, potluck, apple bobbing, bouncy castle, local fire truck. Awesome.

(thanks E., for the quote.)

Brunette

So C and I just flicked on "Walk the Line" for the, I don't know...45th time? Love this movie.

I really think Reese Witherspoon needs to be a brunette. Always thought she was so striking in this film.

Johnny and June Carter Cash. What a story.

Not a Political Observation

So C and I were watching the RNC (and yes, we watched the DNC too, we are both registered independents). I may be really leaning one way, but I don't see how you can't watch both. We don't understand voting a party line.

I didn't mean to get so serious, there. There are a thousand comments and observations I could make after watching these. And I probably will eventually. But truthfully, since these things are propaganda machines for the most part...I want the debates.

On to my far more light-hearted point.

It's the close of the convention and McCain and Palin are walking the stage together. Their spouses are on the other end of the stage, also together.

I say to C, "What do you think Cindy McCain and Todd Palin talk about?"
His answer has to be dead-on.

"Beer."

What is Wrong with People? Volume I

What is Wrong with People? is most likely going to wind up becoming a recurring topic, driven mostly by other parent interactions. Because I don't know what is wrong with some people out there.

Anyhow. I dropped G off at the park today after her doc's appt. (It went very well, she is 18 lbs, 7.5 oz...90th percentile in weight. My big bundle of love who is happy, healthy, and a smartie.)

J, our nanny, deftly and tactfully pointed out someone that she had mentioned before to me. This was the woman who had actually asked to check the tags in the back of my son's shirt to see where it was from some time ago.

Was she checking to see the brand name? Did she like it and want it for her child? Or (more likely) was she attempting to find out what kind of background that O came from based on what he was wearing?

I had heard from other mothers that they experienced this at a Gymboree or like venue, so clearly it's a tactic of some sort. Can anyone shed any light on it? I find it horrifically offensive.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?