Wanderlust

The Google on the Internets

This is funny, only because he's stupid...

Just watch through the commerical..

Remodel revealed...

So here's pics from the recent bedroom remodel. This was a long awaited and much needed project. The peach carpet had already suffered severe stains and the flowered wallpaper made me want to pull my hair out everytime I walked in the room. I think with the blue and the neutral carpet as well as the new silver hardware, we've created a clean, modern look. One of the serious drawbacks to this home is the dated interior and while it doesn't bother us, rennovating it is a nice, easy way to increase it's value and selling potential. Although the cost comes at a time when we are not exactly rolling in the dough, it is an investment more than an expense and since we hope to finish the basement sometime next year, we knew we better get going so we could cross this project off our list. Thankfully, this is the only room with wallpaper so all our future remodeling adventures should be a little less strenous.

Monster Baby

About a month ago we purchased a new video camera for several reasons- all of them parental. We had waited awhile and if our finances were our guide, we would have had to wait a long while longer, but we didn't want to miss anything super cool or important. George did the research and we took the plunge with a Panasonic GS3000, 3.1 megapixels. We've captured some great footage so far and begun to experiment with an editing program to put some polish on our raw clips. We're having some issues with compressing for uploading and video quality. Be patient with us- it's a learning experience .

The footage you see here was captured yesterday and it was so hilarious we couldn't wait to post it. We'll be putting up more mini videos and we're trying to decide whether or not to just post them randomly or have a section that debutes a weekly video. Any opinions?

Using a truck because it's a truck

On Friday we finally got to use the truck for what is was made for- hauling shit. It's been a while since we really needed the truck as a truck, and I've been almost wondering why we even have it. Well, it is to haul a bunch of crap to the dump.

We have a bunch of stuff that just needs to be thrown away, including a smelly dog house left from the previous owners. This is a huge insulated dog house built with real insulation and with real roofing. But it seems like it hasn't been used in quite a long time, so I tore it apart. Along with the dog house was a bunch of other things not worth mentioning, except that it filled the back of our truck (with a cap).

I've never been to a transfer station before, so this was my first time. It is totally nuts! I don't know if it is the little boy in me or what, but it was really cool. We first got weighed, and then drove into this HUGE building that was loud, dirty, and smelly. I backed the truck close to a huge pile of trash, and threw all of the stuff out of the truck. It was insanely loud. There was a large cat next to us pushing the pile together, and a stereo that had to be really loud because it was like 75 feet away and I could here it pretty good. After dumping, we got into the truck and left. That's it! Pull in, dump it on the ground near a pile of trash and leave.

On the way out, we weighed back in. You can see my receipt to see how much my truck weighs, and how much trash we got rid of. 600lbs!! Wow, I thought we would have a problem reaching the 450lb mininum charge. If you have a bunch of shit to get rid of, and it can't be recycled, I would highly recommend a trip to the transfer station. Better yet, I'll haul it there for you, because that place is cool!!!!

Letters to the O

Nine Months

I've considered calling David Copperfield recently and offering you up as his apprentice. You have mastered the act of transporting yourself. I can turn my back for two seconds to grab a kitchen towel to wipe up your spit up and you've crossed the floor, scaled the refridgerator, and begun to take swigs from the Knob Creek bottle. This month you began to crawl, and also, consequently, to fall. Off everything. You are constantly finding something new and entertaining to bash your head on and now that you have begun to pull yourself to a standing position, I know it will only be a matter of time before you find the car keys and decide to take yourself for a joy ride. Just remember- red is not only a cool color...it also means STOP.

You have developed a stubborn hatred for your car seat and even, recently, your highchair. When you see those dreadful appendages of torture approaching your delicate body, you arch your back, lock your knees and squeeze your eyes shut tight. Every fiber of your baby body pitched against me and the inhumanity of being buckled and restained. This infant obstinancy creeps up in all sorts of places- in the stroller when the sunshade suddenly obstructs your god given view of the neighborhood, when I actually dare to put you down so I can put a few mouthfuls of dinner into my mouth. Your protests always begin with flailing arms, saucer eyes and a hee hawing sound that mimics hyperventilating. This is my warning. If I was smart I would turn back, give you lots of money and chocolate ice cream and gnaw on your double chin until you got the hiccups. But, as the record shows, I am a glutton for punishment. And so begins the enraged screaming. You even screamed yourself hoarse a few weeks ago, much to my amusement. Everytime you tried to express complaint after that it came out as a weak, crackling sigh. Your Dad and I managed to capture footage of you in your "Jekyll and Hyde" act- one second laughing, the next on the verge of hysterical crying. It was enormously adorable.

You've begun to recognize language and music. When the Disney intro to the baby einstein video begins, a wide smile breaks out across your face in anticipation. I've been able to make you giggle just by reciting lines from your favorite books- although when I murmur "Mr. Brown can Moo- can you?," in line at Bajio, I'm never sure if the weird look the hispanic dude behind the counter gives me is because he doesn't speak a word of english or he thinks I'm retarded.

I think my favorite advancement this month was when you learned to open and shut things. The lids on your block cart, the tops of your shape sorters. You open them slowly, peek with fascination at the contents inside and them slam them shut delightedly. This attraction to the dark contents behind doors applies also to mouths. You take any opportunity when I open my mouth to thrust your hand inside and dig around like you're exploring for buried treasure. You've also begun to try to insert everything into other people's mouths instead of your own. Miles, Timber, Daddy... all of us have been forcefed blocks on occasion in the past weeks. Since your coordination leaves much to be desired, this process is less than gentle.

I recently taught you to wave, but thus far you wave mostly at yourself. Inspecting the open and shutting reflex of your hand as if it is a strange alien object. You do it mostly in your highchair for some reason, probably from the sheer boredom of the druggery of eating pureed chicken and unflavored yogurt.

The chill of fall has descend rapidly this year and evening often finds you and I snuggled under a quilt in your recliner. When I read you your books before bedtime, you sometimes reach up to touch my face and smile at me as if to say,

"You're my mommy."

And I remind myself to enjoy these moments because you won't always be this infatuated with me.

When silence is NOT golden

Perhaps it is the approaching elections that have saturated the country in all things political, but I feel as if I am in a constant state of outrage over the current administration and the inertia and unscrupulousness of Congress. After W signed this little gem, I thought my head would explode. And although I will be voting in November, I know with certainty that my little vote will be lost in Utah, awash in a sea of blinded red loyalty. So I found a few other ways to voice my outrage over the erosion of my civil liberties. I highly recommend pitching in and signing the petitions through the following links:

Stop a Congressional Rubberstamp for Bush's Illegal Warrantless Spying Program

Help Restore Net Neutrality

KEEP PUBLIC LANDS IN PUBLIC HANDS!

Togini

On Sunday, as we were returning from a run to Costco, we spotted a loose dog standing on our neighbor's front lawn.

"Not another one!," I groaned. We had just picked up a loose dog on our doorstep the day before and returned it to it's owner. (This was the very same dog that I apprehended while pregnant and chewed out it's owner nearly a year ago. Guess that was effective.)

The dog was a honey color and looked to be maybe a golden lab or a german shepherd mix. But as soon as I saw it prance across the lawn and eye our car warily, I was shoving open the passenger car door and yelling at George.

"Stop! Stop! That's Timber!"

I ran across the street and called him. Tog seemed happy to see me and followed me to the front door, tail wagging. I saw Miles inside the hall, barking and shoving his head against the front window. He seemed quite offended by the situation. I was just plain flabbergasted. How the hell did Timber get out?

Both garage doors were closed and when I went inside I found all the doors closed and locked. All the windows were intact and locked. George suggested maybe Timber had slipped out when we'd left and neither of us had noticed him. That seemed pretty unlikely. And then it hit me.

I'd left him outside. He'd asked to go out and Miles was uninterested in accompanying him since there were no pools of sunshine to roast himself in. So I'd let Timber out, nursed Owen, and then forgotten to let him back in. Even this scenario did not explain how the hell Timber got loose. Our backyard is completely fenced and Timber was an unlikely candidate to jump the six foot fence with his recently injured hind leg. Both gates were fastened securely. George and I searched the perimeter of the fence and we found only one spot where there was a gap large enough to permit a Tog to slip through. A few boards had come loose and would give way when pushed. We're not sure that's how he escaped, but George nailed them shut anyway.

Togini has not made another escape attempt. I'm not sure his original escapade was an escape attempt anyway. I have no idea how long he was loose, but he sure didn't wander far. He was probably thinking about all that beef jerky in the pantry and knowing that if he ran off, it would just be more for Miles.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Over the weekend we ended our hiatus from the brain rotting, soul numbing addiction know as television. Every year we pick a week to go sans TV, and spend the evenings reading books, walking, and playing games instead. This year, we had so much to do with the bedroom remodel and fall yardwork that neither George or I had much time to miss watching the boob tube. But when we curled up in the warm glow of our favorite programs last night, it was a welcome respite from the busy lives that keep us constantly moving. Owen, however, did not participate this year in the television ban due to the fact that it is absolutely necessary for me to employ "Blue's Clues" or "Little Einsteins" in order to maintain the basics of daily hygeine. There are some things I'm willing to give up, but clean teeth and breath that doesn't smell like dead frogs isn't one of them.

Discovery

Yesterday Owen and I spent a good deal of time just wallowing on the floor in the glow of the TV, babbling to one another and drooling. It was lovely because I've been so busy with the bedroom project that I've hardly had time ot enjoy him. Later last evening, when George came home late from work, Owen was content (having spent the entire day in my company) to sit on the floor and play with his block cart while his Daddy and I ate dinner. And I watched him open the wooden top to the cart (a feat he mastered just last week, much to his delight), peer in as if he was peaking over a fence (even though the cart is at floor level), and remove every single block one by one until it was empty. Then he shut it. I couldn't help but smile. These are the smallest of moments but the ones I love best of all as a parent and as a teacher. That aha! feeling of discovery where the excitement lights up their face and the world unfolds at their feet, if only for a moment.

Another atheist manifesto

To say that my path in religon has been somewhat meandetring is an understatement. I was not raised particularily religious- that is to say I was raised religiously but not in the tenet of a particular religion. Catholicism and Judaism were about the only flavors of Jesus I didn't try in my first twenty years, although I did go to mass once with my cousins. I remember the look on my Mom's face when I explained that we got on our KNEES (which seemed embarassing in public) and prayed to Mary. It was the exact same hairy eyeball look I imagined she'd give me if I explained that I'd suggested worshipping the gravy boat at Thanksgiving.

To give my Mom full credit, she did try. Summer was the season of bible camps and as I floated from one to another, I soaked up evangelicalism like a sponge. I suppose it appealed to the aspiring actress in me- singing, stages and lengthy, dramatic monolgues of tortorous trial and redemption. I can't tell you how many times I was "SAVED." Everytime they gave that call for the kids to come forward and give over their lives to Jesus, I went happily tripping down the aisle to confess my sins. The incentive was usually a bible, the soft leather covers and thin pages that mesmerized me like Wonder Woman's invisible plane. I never understood why my Mom seemed so embarassed when she came to pick me up and learned that I'd been saved AGAIN. I was smart enough not to try it twice in the same place and I remember thinking the bible camp people were foolish for falling for it. Say I like Jesus and you give me stuff. Sure. I'm all over that. I like whatever you like, mister- just hand over the bible and the candy.

Later, when I was a regular at Sunday school, I slaved feverously over memorizing the books of the bible in order. And at AWANA group, I zipped through three bible verse books in a year, an unheard of feat of memorization. I was jubiliant when I scooped up an award at the end of the year and my name was in the church newsletter. I didn't do it for God- I did it for the GLORY. And also because it was an alarmingly easy way to impress adults.

I attended a private Christian school in a small town in New Hampshire for 7th grade. I loved it because you could work at your own pace and because the aide who made the rounds from desk to desk always smelled like peppermint. The pastor's daughter also attended and I think she single handedly muddied the waters of religious piety for me. Her name was Jen and she lied and cheated and stole and smiled back unblinkingly without remorse. Up to that point, God had seemed like a positive influence and Jesus was a really great guy who told some interesting stories. What was wrong in the state of Denmark here?

As a teenager, our church attendance was sporadic but because I was a verocious reader and also a glutton for punishment, I took it upon myself to read the bible cover to cover. Twice. And as I continued to soak up history and literature and science I started to see the bible for what it was. A bestseller with a lot of sensationalized content (people living hundreds of years... parting the sea- come on!) and not a lot of historical fact.

In college I declared, along with my often oscillating major, agnosticism. I wasn't sure and frankly didn't care much. If religion enriched others lives and held a positive influence over society, I felt that it was worthwhile. Just not for me. I found my spiritualism elsewhere- in Indian healing circles, in the pages of "Sophie's World," in the shapes of trees against the sky.

Over the past few years I have moved steadily towards the conclusion I reach today. I am an atheist. Not simply because I don't need to believe in God to have a meaningful and purposeful life but because every bone in my body points to that inevitable truth. And instead of scaring me, it fills me with peace. I don't need to know what will happen next or why. I can accept that there is simply no why or wherefore and the idea that I control my destiny rather than some mythical man in the sky gives me comfort in the future. When I die, I will just be dead. And so will you, too, I believe. But it's what I do today and tomorrow and every minute afterwards that decides the legacy and the world I will leave behind. I decide that, not God.

I heard this piece several months ago on NPR and since I can't say it any better than this, I won't try. I've begun to see the current path of religion as a ignorant fanaticism and a cancerous growth that threatens to rob this country not only of it's freedom, but the world of it's right to live in peace. To not stand and declare myself an atheist, part of that most detested group in American society, and allow the scourge to continue would be wrong. And, contrary to popular opinion, atheist do have morals. I just don't choose to get mine out of someone else's book.

Mission Accomplished

Two weeks and a veritable buttload of scraping, swearing and sanding later, we now sleep in a sea of blue. George and I picked out the color together, although I was already heavily leaning towards blue. My initial plan was to paint the bedroom in earth tone stripes, but that idea quickly eroded once I realized that it would require CAREFUL measuring and attention to detail. So we settled on the steely, gray blue otherwise called BEHR's "Waterscape." Much to my glee, the peach carpet took a beating in the process. It felt a bit indulgent to be spilling paint without caution all over the floor but since we're replacing the hideous carpet this week, it was a luxury I was happy to use to full advantage. We'll post photos of the finished room once the carpet gets installed on Thursday afternoon.

Now that we're not sleeping in the living room anymore and the push to finish this project is behind me, you'll be seeing alot more items of interest popping up on the site. And I promise not to bitch about wallpaper for at least a month. Not on the internets anyway.

Happy Baby

I just spent a great weekend with Owen. He reminded me what has been increasingly important these past couple of months... him. Slowly but surely he is begining to have a personality to enjoy. It has been totally amazing to watch him grow; figuring out how things work, learning to crawl, and using his voice to make all sorts of noises. It's only really struck me in the last month or so what people with kids were talking about when they said how everything changes, and being a parent is something that is totally amazing and almost hard to describe. Having Owen around has been extraordinary.

10 Things

10 Things I hope I live to see:

1. A woman become president of this country
2. The northern lights
3. George Bush SINCERELY apologize. For anything- his choice. I'm not picky.
4. The earth from space
5. My name on the cover of a book.
6. The obliteration of all our personal debt.
7. Banning of high fructose corn syrup, hydrogenated oils, BGH and all artifical colors, sweeteners, pesticides and preservatives from our food supply.
8. United States having complete energy independence from foreign oil.
9. Homosexuals allowed to marry, serve in the military and do whatever else every other citizen of this country is allowed to do because anything less than that is ignorant.
10. People walking through the metal detectors at the airport with their shoes ON.

10 things I hope I NEVER live to see:

1. Intelligent design being taught in a public school science classroom.
2. The loss of a woman's right to choose.
3. Christmas lights being put up before Halloween.
4. Owen becoming an evangelical Christian Republican.
5. The extinction of polar bears.
6. Dick Cheney naked.
7. A genetically engineered human.
8. The invasion of Iran by the United States.
9. Another Jackass movie.
10. The day I give up and move to Canada.