Happy Thanksgiving

A safe and happy holiday to everyone. May you pull the bigger half of the wishbone and may your gravy boat never sink.

Ten Years Ago Today. . .

. . .it was Thanksgiving Day. My father had gotten out of the hospital a few days before, and I hadn't known or wasn't willing to believe that he was at the end of his battle against lung cancer. My parents had just elected to enroll in a hospice program after his discharge from the hospital.

At the time I worked for a UPenn practice in Northeast Philadelphia, and for whatever reason, the office manager (who was also a nurse, and the wife of the senior physician in the practice) told me to go home on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. The practice was aware of my father's diagnosis, and the office was great about letting me take day off during the summer to go down to visit my parents and hang out with my father during his chemotherapy.

The holiday was low-key, my mother made dinner, one of my best friends came over to eat with us. My father was in bed most of the day, but he did manage to eat and drink a little bit. After cleaning up, my mother and I both went to bed, and in that house, it meant I was in my brother's old room on the lower level of the house.

I still remember my mother coming into the room at around 8:45 pm and waking me up by saying, "He's gone." And since I was still half asleep the words didn't process because I remember asking her how could he go anywhere because he needed the both of us to help him get out of bed.

It was completely surreal taking my stethoscope upstairs to listen on his chest and neck and then giving him one of those obnoxious sternal rubs while telling him that it wasn't funny and he'd better wake up.

Then it sunk in and I called the hospice nurse on call for the weekend. She was phenomenal, showing up within 20 minutes or so, helping to call the funeral home, getting my father washed and dressed in pajamas. The funeral home guys were also very kind, but both of them were so grossly overweight and out-of-shape, I had visions of one or both having an MI while carrying the stretcher down the stairs and wondering if I could really do CPR (and glad that the other nurse was there.)

I remember calling my Tante Lydia in Germany, and what a horrible, horrible feeling it was to tell her, hoping this would be the last time I'd have to pass of someone's death on. (In 1982 while I was in Germany, my maternal grandfather died, and relatives took me to see his brother, who was now the sole remaining sibling, and feeling miserable that I had made my great uncle breakdown and cry.)

Thanksgiving just hasn't been quite the same for me since then. There are many, many things that I am thankful for, but I truly miss those Thanksgiving dinners with my family, and I'm sad that my father wasn't around for all the good things that have happened over the past ten years: two weddings, three grandchildren, other family weddings and celebrations.

I miss him as much in 2008 as I did in 1998.

Two Moments of Amazement

Moment #1: Micah and I went to the gas station this afternoon, and the Valero at Route 1 and Raymond Road had regular gasoline for $1.73/cash, $1.83/credit. I could fill the tank for $20, which hasn't happened since I don't remember when. So my mind no longer has to expend energy on thoughts of auctioning one of Steve's kidneys on eBay to pay for gasoline. Three free brain cells, I don't know how I'll manage to put them to use.

Moment #2, in a completely different, unrelated, and sad vein:
Last week a Philadelphia police officer died in a collision with a drunk driver, if my memory of the what I read in the on-line Sunday Philadelphia Inquirer serves. Today was the funeral, and the only reason I know that is that Micah and I took a quick trip over to PA and once we were in the vicinity of the Street Road overpass on I-95 something was up. There were cars seeming to be parked there and on the shoulder of the road but not due to a breakdown, and more on the Academy Road overpass, and still more on the shoulder. Then I noticed there was not a single car coming up in the northbound lanes. Not one.

A few minutes later a stream of police vehicles and buses with lights flashing. I was still clueless, it looked like a massive prisoner transport or something. (Thanks to those two not-so marvelous years working at the NJDOC's reception facility.) Then I saw that every northbound on-ramp was blocked by Pennsylvania State Troopers. What was amazing wasn't that all that was happening, given enough manpower, blocking access to an interstate is just a question of logistics and manpower. It was the number of regular people on the shoulder of the interstate and on the overpasses, with flags, waiting to show their respect for the police officer that blew me away. How did they even know when the funeral cortege would be going past? How long did they wait, standing on the side of a grubby highway on a rather cold day?

After another pause, there was an enormous motorcycle escort, the hearse and the limousine with family and then more police cars and other vehicles coming behind, and coming, and coming for what seemed like forever. The motorcade was coming from downtown Philadelphia into Lower Bucks, just north of where I lived for my first couple of years out of school.

Micah slept through it all, otherwise he would have been looking at the spectacle going "Weeee-ooooh, weeee-ooooh," the standard response for flashing lights of any sort.

Games the School District Plays. . .

I posted on Tuesday that the school district called on the absolute last possible day before it would be out of compliance to schedule Micah's evaluation. The message was from Sharon and she left her phone number/extension and instructed me to call back and confirm that her message was received.

And so as not to appear too eager, I waited until Thursday and called. Amazingly, I had the phone number in my head and was sitting at my desk with a semi-idle minute so I dialed.

She picked up promptly, I told her I was calling to confirm the date and time that she had provided for Micah's CST evaluation.

Insert sounds of me twiddling my thumbs while being placed on hold.

And then she came back on the line and said, "Oh, but you haven't turned in the form giving permission for the evaluation."

Huh????? My jaw dropped. The form that Micah and I dropped off at 1:15 pm on October 29, 2008, handed to the receptionist (whose name I noted on my copy of the form with the date and time.)

Once the shock abated. I recapped that SHE had called ME to schedule the evaluation, so that must mean that the school is in possession of the signed form.

Insert more sounds of me twiddling thumbs while being put on hold, yet again.

Then she came back on the line and confirmed the appointment.

This is an example of a person I am supposed to entrust with the care of my child.

Fat freaking chance.

Cheap Decorating Thrills

I' ve been redecorating the blog. It's cheaper than re-doing a house (though the house needs it more desperately).

Since reader comments have been few and far between, and http://www.blogpatrol.com counter didn't give me a precise lock on who is reading this, with the exception of my husband whose email address shows up on the activity report while everyone else remains anonymous, I put the Feedjit map as one of the widgets. Now I can guess, based on location, who is out there.

The Baltimore flag is my cousin, but I knew that already from the comment she left (and I wish she'd email me the name of her blog. Hint, hint.) Illinois is Steve's brother. Somehow the stupid Feedjit thing calls our home location Belle Mead instead of Princeton. Texas is likely my best friend since freshman year of high school.

King of Prussia is a mystery. I hope its not someone from our former adoption agency because that would be too weird and nosey.

California is also a question mark, though I think that might be a mom who is a member of one of the atresia/microtia groups on Yahoo! that I belong to.

It feels a bit like cyber-stalking, but it doesn't cost a dime so and it keeps me occupied - otherwise I'd be changing the font colors sixteen times a day trying to find the palette that goes best with the background.

Not much else is new. I clipped a Land-o-Lakes Best Sugar Cookie recipe, then actually read it. Two tablespoons of orange juice is part of the flavoring. What foulness! Blech, blech, and double blech. Into the recycling it went. I was looking for a good recipe to make cookies with the kids since I discovered my cookie cutters in an obscure corner of one of the kitchen cabinets.

Wednesday Triptych

Good news on the answering machine: Micah's service coordinator at Early Intervention called today. The application for the second BAHA has been mailed. It gets sent in to "the State" whoever or whatever that is.

Please let the bean-counting, penny-pinching faceless bureaucrat be in a good mood when the envelope arrives in his or her in-box. Light candles, sacrifice chickens, make offerings to the deity of your choice, keep a good thought, Mama wants a BAHA approval in time for Christmas.

And if approved, I then want JFK to order it quickly, Cochlear to send it via overnight express (the company charges enough for the damn thing, it can spring for FedEx, dammit.)

And I want our audiologist not to be taking any time off if and when the approval comes through so she can order it and get it on Micah ASAP.

I know I want a lot, but Micah deserves it.

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Meanwhile back at the ranch, my Kodak Easyshare printer is only printing half of the pictures and the help page on Kodak's web site and http://www.fixya.com/ were more or less useless. Someone put in the suggestion to unplug it for awhile, as if that is somehow a magic bullet. Duh, tried that one myself before even going on-line to look for answers or suggestions. May that twit's email inbox be deluged with Viagra-by-mail and penis enhancement spam forevermore.

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After group at Summit School today, Micah and I went to visit Marleen and Aliya. Marleen and Pete were in our first adoption travel group, and their daughter Kitty is a few weeks younger than Thea. Pete just came back from Kyrgystan with Aliya who is now seven months old.

Micah was quite taken with Marleen, behaved well around baby Aliya and was quite intimidated by Boomer and Sweet Pea, the two English setters. Who as dogs go are total pussycats - they napped in the sunroom while Micah played with their dog toys. The baby is adorable and just happy to crawl and roll around the floor amusing herself. When I said it was time for us to leave, Micah pulled his "almost all done" routine and then patted Marleen on her thigh for emphasis. He managed to scam several stuffed animals from her, so it was an all around good afternoon for him, even though he got shorted on nap time.

One More Hoop. . . .

. . . . yesterday the audiologist at JFK called. She is providing her part of the paperwork that will result in Micah's second BAHA, if all goes well and the approval process doesn't go beyond March 1, 2009 when Early Intervention washes its hands of us. And she needs a copy of the "Medically Cleared to Wear Hearing Aids" prescription from Dr. Choe. The one that I sent to our service coordinator more than a week ago. Don't these people talk much less share information?Sheesh.

Fortunately I am extremely neurotic about that sort of thing and I still have the originals as well as copies so I could fax it off this morning. And I've already called JFK to confirm that the fax arrived (missing the cover memo, but at least the important stuff made it.)

I am hoping that Santa Claus is going to bring us a second BAHA since it's about the only thing I want for Christmas, but I don't know if my patience is going to hold out, especially if any more roadblocks are tossed at me.

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And today the school district called (on day #19.5 of the 20 calendar days it had to respond) and left a message on our voice mail to schedule Micah's evaluation. December 18th at 10:30 am. I am wondering if the Child Study Team is hoping I'll say 'no' since I think they were told I work Tuesdays and Thursdays, and it's one week before Christmas.

Fat freaking chance, let the games begin.

At least I'll have something to talk about at group tomorrow. . . .

Chinatown & the Wanamaker's Pipe Organ

We were the first arrivals at the Green Land Tea House, Thea and I. Surprisingly, neither lightning nor a meteor struck the place. Thea and I tried out pork dumplings, $0.70 each, and a I tried a peanut sticky rice ball. The dumpling was ok, though the bread coating was a little on the greasy side, and the sticky rice ball is probably an acquired taste. I liked the ground peanut filling and the coconut coating, but the sticky rice was exactly as its name described. Glutenous, adhesive-like, bland. The good news we got from the home while at the bakery was that Micah had decided to go pee on the potty.


The Shanghai Bazaar and New China Bookstore was the next stop, but Thea and I were in more of a looking than a buying mode. We got a wooden dog pull-toy for Micah, now named Pee-Pee Puppy. It was interesting, but it doesn't hold a candle to A Gift from China in GuangZhou.


Next we went to hear the noon concert of the pipe organ, which is impressive for its size and the number of pipes it has. While waiting for the concert to end so that we could tour the console area, we went down to the first floor where Macy's has a red mail box for letters to Santa. I saw a commercial that I only half paid attention to that said that for every letter to Santa, Macy's would make a contribution to a charity (which one I don't remember) up to one million dollars. Thea and her friend Kalani wrote notes. Thea couldn't think of anything to put on her list, so she wrote out "Thank you for all the presents you've brought me."

Then we went to Ocean Harbor, a dim sum restaurant on Race Street. Very popular place from the lines coming out the door. Carts zipping around with the various offerings. Even chicken feet. From all the reading I've done about Chinese cooking, the best part, most flavorful part doesn't come from the breast, but 40+ years of conditioning with Perdue under the plastic wrap is hard to break down. And I've seen the places those chicken feet walk, and most of them are woefully overdue for a poultry pedicure. I passed, I am a culinary coward and quite happy in that role. Thea and I had shrimp, which comes with all its bits still there, and if one is doing it the proper way, one sucks out the head. I'm not a shrimp head sucker, either.

I may need to come back and read the bit about the note from Santa after awhile, because the same child who wrote that earlier today is being a major pain in the rear this evening. The needle on my Whine-o-Meter is off the charts, and most of the noise is coming from the older one. (Micah does whine at times, but he usually will try whacking something or someone as his first approach.)

Grey Saturday

Thea and I are off to Chinatown in Philadelphia with a group from her school. We're going to a traditional Taiwanese tea house, the Shanghai Bazaar, the pipe organ concert at Wanamaker's (I lived in Philly when it was still Wanamaker's and it will forever be that to me), and then Ocean Harbor for lunch.

Micah is getting a Daddy day, which includes a visit to Grandma, as possibly a trip to Turtleback Zoo to ride the train. Yesterday Micah and I had an all-train, all-morning experience. His speech therapist was willing to go with his agenda of playing with his Thomas the Tank Engine trains and tracks, then we went to the Princeton NJT station and rode the Dinky round trip to Princeton Junction. While idling on the track, waiting for our return trip, Micah saw a double-decker train go through the Princeton Junction station, so he has upgraded his training goals to "Ride, big, big train." He probably will get to ride a train in a few months, to New York City, for his first CT scan prior to his surgery. Probably not quite how he's imagining it will be.

Stay dry!

Working Wednesday

Today I had three free minutes while Micah slept in his pack-n-play in my office so I called our Service Coordinator at Early Intervention. Monday late afternoon I faxed off Dr. Choe's letter and hearing aid Rx with our Aetna ID card to her. Today SC spoke with the audiologist at JFK regarding the cost estimate and her report needed for the BAHA #2 application, and audiologist is sending in her paperowork to the SC and once those are received, the application moves forward to the next step. It just needs to finish that next step soon, soon, soon - time is ticking away and that third birthday is getting closer and closer.

Since it was nagging time, I also put in a call to the Social Worker to see if the receptionist had delivered the evaluation permission form two weeks ago. Left a message on her voice mail, and no message on our answering machine when we got home today. No return phone call, big fat surprise there. Not.

I can honestly say I'd have rather driven to New Providence and attended group today, working half-day but putting in a full day's worth of time sucks. Wednesdays Micah's sitter can only take him through lunch time due to the number of kids she has, the number of sleeping areas for naps and cribs for them to sleep in so at 12:30 pm or so I have to scoot down the road, pick up Micah and then either go back to work or go home (usually to work on charts via the computer).

Our home computer's mouse, which as taken more hits than Muhammad Ali from being dropped or knocked onto the kitchen floor, started acting a little punch drunk last night. It was taking six clicks or more to register a check mark in the boxes on the forms used for patient charts - and since the forms are all checklists with some typing thrown in for good measure, it took me almost three hours to complete about twelve charts. So today I planned to turn off the overhead light in my office, sit at my desk and work while Micah (who naps well for his sitter and who is usually wiped out by 12:45 pm or so) slept.

"NO NAP MOMMY. No, thank you." Silly me. He had things to do. He has to check in with his medical assistant friends and scam some stickers. He had to get some water and ice and sit at the lunch room table hanging out with the last few people who were having lunch. He wanted to blow up a few latex gloves into balloons.

He. Did. Not. Want. To. Nap.

Fortunately I had stuffed animals and wooden with us so Micah was in the pack-n-play with his toys and relatively content for awhile. It took two tries of rocking him on my lap and a few verses of "The Wheels on Micah's Car (Go 'Round and 'Round)" before I could drop him in the crib and really get cracking on my laptop. I am hopeful that having an office at the end of the hall prevented most of my co-workers from hearing my total lack of a singing voice.

The nice thing about having Micah napping in my office is that almost no one came knocking on the door to interrupt me so I got all of my charts and most of my correspondence done. I did bring home a stack of charts to strip for scanning tonight. Once I get more than ten on my desk I get the itch to make them go away, and preparing them for the file clerks is the only way to do it. It's tedium is only broken by the occasional paper cut.

Tonight Thea and I finished The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, so we'll be picking out at new chapter book. She also read Duck on a Bike to me which was sent in her backpack by her English teacher. When we got to the end of Edward Tulane, Thea said maybe we could put it away for a bit and then start to read it again, so I think that means she liked it. It's a great book, and I really loved the story, too. I think I might choose something lighter for our next chapter book: Ruby Lu, Brave and True might be good. I think there's a part in it where the main character tries to sell her little brother.

Top Chef: New York started tonight. I think I am growing bored with it. I need to find some new shows or remember to pick up stuff from the On Demand menu.

The Wait for BAHA #2 and Weekend Update

...is still on-going, but I have got to put a major thanks in to the ENT we saw back in May. When our service coordinator emailed me about needing all the documentation for the secnod application (something she could have told me back in September at our six-month review), I used the personal email address that the ENT had given us at that appointment (and I called his office as well, the OCD kicks in when it comes to anything related to the children). He responded within 24 hours and said the needed documents would be in the mail. What a dude. In addition to being one of those surgeons with really big brains with energy to match, he's not some remote Wizard of Oz type who only speaks to his patients from behind the velvet curtain.

The promised letter and prescription reading "Medically cleared to wear a hearing aid" arrived over the weekend, so after getting Thea from school we went off to FedEx Office to copy and fax it to our service coordinator.

Next move is to contact the social worker at Orchard Hill Elementary to see if she received the signed document giving the Child Study Team permission to evaluate Micah. I've heard there is a history of documents going missing, which does not sound promising - especially since I hand-delivered it. According to The Rules, the CTS has 20 days to respond to this and 90 days to complete the evaluations.

Meanwhile and far away, the children had a great weekend at Oma's, and since it was only two days, I don't think we drained Oma as much as one of our four or five days stays does.

Micah managed to wake up at 3:30 am, slide down onto the air mattress where I sleep and wake me up by saying, "WHERE OMA?" in his loudest voice. Fortunately he bought that Oma was sleeping, had a bottle and a diaper change and went back to sleep snuggled next to me.

The NLH fall festival was the usual. We tried our best to be out the door early, but since it takes 90 minutes or so to get there, most of the baked goods and fudge had been snapped up. There was a silent auction, and Mom's quilting friend had made a donation of one of her quilts. I was told not to bid on it since she had quilts at home for me to buy, but the thought of some unknown peasant getting their mitts on a prize-winner from the Montgomery County Fair for a pittance was not doable. Thea picked out some 'jewels' - a star pin that looks to her like a sheriff's badge and a pin that looked like it would tell the world that she was a knight; Micah got a little bear with a bib, mostly to keep him from wanting something bigger.

We scoped out the Christmas room, but right inside the door was a giant electrical Elmo with a Santa hat. Micah just about lost his mind, and the sounds of "ELLLL-MOH..." bounced off the walls as I dragged the stroller out of the room. Elmo Santa does not figure into my Christmas decor, no way, no how.

Our umbrella stroller got a work out, because Thea wanted to ride (shopping fatigue had set in), and Micah wanted to ride as well, so I plopped him on her lap. Surprising she-who-does-not-like-kissing-or-hugging-her-brother put up with holding him on her lap, and since he knew she was a captive audience he periodically gave her a smooch on her cheek.

In the Book Room, which is usually good for finding a few good quality used books, we ran into two older women who asked what the box on Micah's head was. And one of the ladies, midway through my preprogrammed atresia/microtia schtick, asked, "Is that one of those LOCKLEAR implants?" I thought it was a) pretty cool that she would even have a vague idea of cochlear implants and b) it put a weird image in my head of Heather Locklear implanted into someone's head to help them hear, but that was a nice segue into my 'no, he has functioning cochleas, neither of which is located in his frontal lobe; this is a bone conduction hearing aid' patter. They were overall very interested in a non-nosy way, but they ended with the whole "it's such a wonderful thing you're doing" routine that just bugs me. But rather than tune out and glaze over, I just said that it's the complete opposite and shoved the 90 pounds of squirming children in stroller forward to make my escape.

After lunch we waited around for the results of the silent auction. Micah and Thea played in the fountain in front of the entrance while we waited for Oma to finish up - it was a nice warm day, but the water was darn cold. Thea was out at the fountain by herself when Mom's friend came walking up and Thea actually recognized her and said hello. I was hoping not to be found out but there I was busted with the nap quilt sitting in the stroller.

We stopped at Mom's friend's house and the kids occupied themselves with toys that have been around since the 1960s. The best part of catching up was both my mom's friend and Mom saying how nice it was to talk with someone whose hearing was unimpaired. So many of their friends are hard-of-hearing (HOH) that it can be exhausting to have conversations with them - and both of them really haven't been hit too hard by aged-related hearing loss.

Sunday Thea and I went out to Border's to grab a New York Times, and we drove through LaPlata to see if things were gearing up for the Veterans' Day Parade. There were three huge semis with the Budweiser Clydesdales on them unloading in front of the County Administration Building. Unfortuantely, Micah had decided to take a nap so we waited until 12:45 pm to go to the 1 pm parade. I unloaded Mom and children where the parade had started and went to park on a side-street. Instead of having the Clydesdales as the grand finale, they had led off the parade, so we got to wave to a bunch of high school bands, ROTC units, librarians, people driving antique cars (though how a car from 1971 could be deemed an 'antique'; nothing manufactured during my lifetime should be given that desgination) and the Charles County EMS and fire department - and for the finale, the three semis for the Clydesdales.

The parade route was relatively short so we moseyed along, saw some of the things we had already seen while waiting to cross Charles Street, and then we followed the crowds seeking the horses. The Clydesdales and the wagon, complete with driver and a very blase' Dalmation, were in front of the Town Hall. Micah stood stock still and just looked at the horses from about six feet away, with the occasional "RIDE HORSEY?" chant. There are eight horses in the team and they are huge. All were decked out with braided manes with red and white (fake) roses sticking out. They also had their tails beribboned and styled as well, which if I were a large male Clydesdale, I'm not so sure how I'd feel about having my tail styled so that my puckered not-so-little anus was out there staring down the world.

Anyway, even though I'm not a beer-drinker or a fan of parades, it was fun. After the parade we went back to Hunan Star, scene of last month's meeting with one of the universe's more tactless creatures, for dinner. We were given our 'usual' booth, in the back away from diners without children. Thea actually said hello and ordered her drink in Mandarin, which disappointingly seemed to make no impression on the waiter - and I don't know if it's a Mandarin versus Cantonese thing or he was just peeved that he was assigned the table with the two children.

Since we spent the better part of the afternoon at the parade and chasing after a glimpse of the Clydesdales, both kids slept for most of the trip home, so I was able to commune with NPR in peace. And there was a station just off the Turnpike with $2.04/gallon for regular gasoline.

And we're off. . . .

. . .it's a short weekend in Maryland. (Damn that whole Kindergarten, got to send your kid to school thing; I miss the days we could leave on Friday and come home on Monday or Tuesday.)

If all the dominoes fall into place, we'll be at my mother's by 5:00 pm, I'll get the kids settled in and then be off to see Lindsey to get the grey out. Tomorrow we go to the National Lutheran Home's Fall Festival; the spring and fall shindigs have been regular events on our social calendar for years now. A long, long time ago, when the Home was at 18th and Douglas Streets, NE in DC, these events were a kid's dream. My mother would parole me from school on the afternoon of the Spring Festival, there would be huge, white tents on the lawn, the tables of crafts (Barbie clothes!) would just boggle the mind. The Fall Festival was usually in the evening and we went as a family with my grandparents. When I got old enough (7th/8th grades) I got to put on an apron along side my Grandma and serve dinners. I thought I was all that and a bag of chips.

Some of the links to the past remain, there is still a "Stamp Table" where collectors can buy stamps. My Grandma volunteered for years in the Stamp Room. She brought home bags of the corners of envelopes with the stamps on them, she soaked them off and put the stamps between sheets of newspapers and then placed the newspapers under the dining room table to dry. This was also how I started stamp collecting. The costume jewelry table, which used to be manned by ladies from St. Peter's, my former church in DC.

Instead of the thrill of hand-sewn and hand-crocheted Barbie clothes, it's going to my mother's friend's home. She quilts, and quilts are the Barbies for adults (or at least the adult me.) She made Thea's bed quilt, our 100 Good Wishes Quilt and multiple nap quilts that are around the house.

Anyway, enough of the memory lane meanderings and pre-quilt viewing droolings, I've got to pack.

Sunday there is a parade in LaPlata for Veterans' Day - Oma has said there will be Clydesdale horses at the parade. Micah will either a) be thrilled beyond his wildest horse dreams and want to ride or b) shriek in fear at the size of those beasts. I'm hoping for fear, much of our rides to and from the babysitter's involve conversations about riding horses:

M: Ride HORSEY, Mommy?
L: Not today, sweetie.
M: Ride cow, Mommy? (We pass a farm with cows.)
L: No, you don't RIDE cows, I don't think that the cows would like that.
M: No ride cow, RIDE HORSIE (giggle). RIDE HORSE NOW? Puppy dog RIDE HORSEY?
L: Your puppy dog is too little to ride a horse, he would need to ride in your backpack.
M: Micah RIDE HORSEY with BACKPACK?

The variations on this theme are seemingly endless, at least to Micah. Our other constant conversational thread is "RIDE CHOO CHOO, Mommy?" which goes something like this:

M: Micah go Oma's, ride choo choo?
L: Choo Choo is sleeping. (It's closed for the season, but try to get that concept into the two-year old mind.)
M: Ride Choo Choo LAY-TER.
L: Right. (Much later, like Spring 2009).
M: Micah ride Choo Choo with Daddy?

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Did you notice that I've put a photo in the Profile section? It was made by an artist who is on etsy.com. She took pictures of the kids and turned them into little dolls, complete with their favorite stuff animals. The mommy figure bears no ressemblane to me, except for maybe the wide bottom and stupefied expression. Have a good weekend.

An Emu?

Today was a day that I have been anticipating, though not expecting it to actually happen until a few years from now, say in the second or third grade.

"Mommy, Miss Anita is coming tomorrow for drama, and I need an emu costume." By tomorrow. And I wouldn't really know an emu if it moseyed over from Australia and bit me on my cellulitic pink tushie.

And I was supposed to go to a dinner program with CME credit with Karen and Candy, but Karen was feeling like early onset roadkill, I've been fighting head congestion since Monday and I stayed up a little too late last night watching election returns, so rather than pick up Micah, pick up Thea, deliver them to Steve's office and then head back down I-295 to Mount Laurel in the rain, we cancelled.

And by cancelling, it meant that I could go to the first PTA-like meeting at Thea's school (they're still debating what to call it since many have negative connotations about using PTA, PTSA or the like - it's all just window-dressing no matter what's decided, IMHO; the consensus was to call it the school's Family Association).

The route home from the Lawrenceville campus is conveniently near a Michael's, which I thought might be a likely source of the raw material needed to turn my daughter into a bird that looks like a motley toupee on sticks with a bird head on a skinny neck and a semi-vacuous expression on its face.

Fortunately after the meeting, I asked YanHong's mother (who is also the science teacher) about the costume issue - and her daughter has also come home saying "I need to be a blue start by tomorrow. . . ." and she found that the children made their costumes. Panic averted. I still stopped at Michael's and got a brown/grey/white maribou boa to help Thea create the mood. She's on her own for the beady-eyed vacuous expression and the twig legs.

This is the 100th post on the blog! I thought it was just #99, but I just checked. I never thought I'd keep on going much beyond our return from China in July 2007.

Post-Election Day Numerology

The President-Elect is younger than me, for the first time ever. The doors to near Geezer-hood have begun to creak open and beckon me in. . .

But I have children younger than his. The Geezer-hood doors shut, for now.

Those thoughts sort of churned out of my head after figuring out when Thea and Micah are eligible to vote.

Election Day

It's the dawn of a new era, life is good, all is well with my world.

Given the date, you would probably think that I am talking about the election, but no, this is blog is not about politics. There are far more witty, engaging and pithy pundits who blog out there, and you can read them if you like.

No, the source of my good vibe is not the predictions of the election results, but the new Dunkin Donuts at Princeton Shopping Center finally opening for business. Be still my caffeinated little heart, bliss just got that much closer to home. No more driving up Route 206 to Hillsborough (though the drive-thru there is sweet) or out to Route 1. Caffeine and concentrated carbohydrates are a two-minute drive and two traffic lights away from my driveway. Truly the heavens are smiling on me. Unfortunately the shop was quieter than a mortuary and the teenaged counter help doesn't know how to measure one teaspoon of sugar to save his pimply-faced little life. If that's how it stays, I give it six months because it occupies a large chunk of pricey retail space.

This discovery brought to you because Micah and I went to Radio Shack to buy an odd-size 23A battery for our doorbell and Radio Shack is in the same shopping center. I'd completely forgotten about it because the 'coming soon' sign had been in the window for what seemed like months.

Even though it's Tuesday, I'm not working today; I worked yesterday, the first Monday in ages. If I were in the office it would be too hard to concentrate, plus worrying that I'd be finished in time to get home, get dinner done and get to the polls.

Today we had Ela at the house in the AM and then Micah went down for a nap. I think it's a sign that he's not completely adjusted to the time change yet since he went down for his nap by 12:15 with nary a protest. He just chugged his bottle, watched Sesame Street for a few minutes and was out. Elmo has that effect on me, too.

Instead of charging downstairs to check in with MSNBC, CNN and NPR, I made a salad and just sat and watched "House" for 20 minutes. Somehow, despite washing my hands so many times in the day, to the point they feel like sandpaper, I have managed to pick up a head cold so I feel like road kill. I stopped in at MSNBC while the other channel was on a commercial and there was an aerial shot of long lines at the polls in New Jersey. Fortunately, I think our district is relatively small and I've never had much of a wait and am hoping that today will be no different.

I'm glad that it will be all over tomorrow. . . .no more auto-dialed phone calls, no more reams of political mailings clogging the mailbox.

Thea got to 'vote' twice today, once with her father on the way to school, and once after school. And she was elected Kindergarten class leader of the day in what her teacher described as a unanimous vote. The leader of the free five-year old world then proceeded to order her brother in a somewhat intimidating tone of voice to put the cars and trucks away so we could go to the polls. There is no such thing as a secret ballot with Thea in the booth; this time instead of just pressing the CAST VOTE button, I let her push the individual candidates buttons, with her saying, "Daddy, didn't hit that button. . . ." most of the time. I was too busy trying to make sure that Micah didn't smack the brightly like CAST VOTE button prematurely.

Then we left the building and walked down to the Millstone River bank behind the polling place and threw rocks and sticks in the water.

Thea and I calculated that the first presidential election she'll be able to vote in will be in 2024, the same year as Micah turns 18 and will also be eligible to vote. I won't tell you how old I'll be; the thought that I'll be over 50 the next time I vote in a presidential election was a chilling enough thought.

Addendum:

Thea and I have started our first chapter book, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo (she wrote Because of Winn Dixie, in case anyone is interested). We're four chapters into it, Thebes fell asleep during chapter five.

And I'm on call tonight. Fortunately, most everyone is either in line at their polling place (until 8 pm when the polls close in NJ) or watching the returns on TV instead of ruminating over their own miseries, aches and pains. Only one call so far, a mother of a kid whose prescription for an antifungal cream was sent electronically to the pharmacy at 4:53 pm (much as I detest the EMR software being on our home computer, it's good for somethings and time stamping records is one of those things) and at 5:47 pm the answering service was calling because the prescription wasn't at the pharmacy. I want to do my part to save the world from dermatophytes, a fungus is NOT a medical emergency.

What was probably not made clear to the patient is that it takes an hour or more for an electronic prescription to transit cyberspace and land in the hand's of the pharmacist. I was a little annoyed when I checked out the details in the EMR and found that it was not quite 60 minutes from the time it was sent. I phoned the pharmacy and repeated the Rx on the voice mail and then wrote up the note on the computer and sent it to the patient's doctor, which beats the heck out of the little pink call slips we once used.

Dinky-Dinky-Doo

Yesterday I finally got Micah to Snip-Its; he was desperately in need of a haircut. With the stretchy headband for his BAHA pushing his hair up, he looked like a demented Muppet. Thea wanted her bangs trimmed; she always has a strand here or there that somehow managed to elude the scissors. Fortunately 'our' stylist, Flo, was working. She loves Thea and has kept up Thea's wedged bob for almost a year. Both were well behaved while the scissors and razor were skimming around their heads. Micah scammed a lollipop from Flo; he's been high on lollies since Friday and has been raiding the leftover Hallowe'en candy basket with such determination that it finally got relocated to the top of the TV armoire.

As a reward for behaving during the haircut (since this is only Micah's fourth haircut or so), we went to the Princeton NJ Transit Station and bought tickets for a round-trip on the Dinky, the short (hence the appellation "Dinky" who says Princetonians aren't creative as well as smart?)NJT train that runs between Princeton and Princeton Junction, the station on Amtrak's Northeast Corridor. $3.50 for me, $1.75 for the children - and Micah probably didn't need a ticket, but if Thea's going to have her ticket punched, Micah will want to have it done, too.

The train to Princeton Junction was near empty, so I wasn't too bothered that Micah was yammering "CHOOOO, CHOOOO" every five seconds. On the way back, the train was filled with student types returning from their weekend jaunts, acting world-weary ("Uh, I'm still on Paris time." Poor thing.) They seemed annoyed at Micah's joyous exclamations about being on a train, which made me enjoy him that much more. The Dinky left Princeton station at 4:30 pm, and we were back in the car heading home at 4:48 pm.

The unfortunate thing about the Dinky is Steve's office is right by the train, so tonight when we went to his office to pick up Thea, Micah started up again with "MI-cah RIIIIIDE CHOOOOO CHOOO?" Not tonight, peanut.

Our Happy Hallowe'en

We did not win prizes for our organizational skills on Hallowe'en. Micah and I went to Thea's school to pick her up at 3:30, but since she was having so much fun playing with Lucas (who was in his Indiana Jones costume and was absolutely adorable), we hung out at school for a while. Usually there are more children around at 3:30, but yesterday it was just Thea and Lucas.

On the way home we stopped to see if the local grocery store had any larger pumpkins for a Jack-O-Lantern, but came up empty-handed. Fortunately the Blawenburg Market had $4 large pumpkins, so we quickly picked one out and zipped home to start carving. Micah and I had put up a few decorations outside before leaving for Thea's school, and our candy was in the basket ready to go.

Thea drew the face for the pumpkins, helped scrape the gooshy stuff and seeds from the inside and pulled out the pieces for the face while Steve and Micah did a little bit of trick-or-treating. Once the pumpkin's candles were lit, Thea went out for a little pre-trick-or-treating; the main event would be when her friend Emily and Emily's family arrived.

Last year we got bunches of trick-or-treaters, all the way up to 8:30 or so. This year - with a ton of candy on hand - we had many fewer.

While the girls and the dads were out accumulating more candy, Micah and Emily's brother, Nate, played a little, coveted whatever mylar balloon the other had (Thomas the Tank Engine or Elmo), and snacked. Micah had to have consumed at least a half-dozen mini Tootsie pops - unless checking the sofa cushions proves otherwise.

I managed to not hear the timer go off so the pound cake (home-made, my mother's recipe) had a dog-biscuit consistency crust on it from the extra 15-20 minutes it spent in the oven. Fortunately I had oatmean chocolate chip cookies as a back up, and if those failed, there was ice cream. It was nice having grown-ups around, and to see Micah playing nicely (more or less) with someone his own age.

Emily and Thea had a sleep over, so it was nice having Emily do the honors of being with Thea, listening to the Backyardigans "All Around the World" CD. They got up around 7 am, but didn't appear for another hour or so because they occupied themselves with playing doctor to Thea's great big tiger. They can do really well together and seem to keep each other entertained without a lot of adult involvement or supervision, which is so nice.

This morning we did eggs and pancakes, and then the girls played downstairs. (Micah sort of has a little crush on Emily, the first thing he said this morning was, "Emily here?")