Today is going to be an exciting day.

Today, the 4-month pregnant Tamara and I are going into DC to participate in a photo Safari. Basically we get to take photos like tourists in the National Museum of the American Indian in DC, with a professional photographer to help us learn more about our camera and how to take better pictures.

I am just so tickled I could spit.

But I won’t. You were nice enough to come to my site, so I will restrain myself. FOR YOU. MMMMWAH!

Here’s the blurb for this photography thing* in case you didn’t want to click on that link and see for yourself:

With their larger sensors, the Canon 20D and its bigger brother,the Canon 30D, SLR digital cameras have become a very popular items among serious digital photographers. This Safari will help 20D/30D users put their cameras through the paces of ISO settings, flash settings, variable white balance settings, file compression, aperture and shutter priorities, focus settings, custom settings, menu navigation tricks, exposure tricks, use of the histogram, etc. We will shoot inside and outside of the new National Museum of the American Indian.

Special exhibits at the museum pose unique challenges for the digital photographer, especially the mix of daylight and tungsten light. The eight-story high atrium is a great place to practice wide-angle photography, and the carvings and statues provide challenges for your telephoto lens.

Ooohhh. Doesn’t that sound cool? I’m going to come back knowing EVERYTHING! Well, a lot more than I know now, which is basically nothing.

So while Tamara and I learn how to be an awesome photographer, my darest dearling Linda is coming down from Long Island. She and I are going to road trip it old style (old style just means no kids in the car) to Virginia Beach to fetch some of her things from an ex. We will probably talk about the meaning of life** and many other deep things while listening to good music.

So. Yeah. Big day planned! Wish me luck! Or better, send me “stay on program!” vibes, because that will serve me better 🙂 (It’s been an excellent on program week thus far!)

* I keep refering to this photo safari thing as a “thing”. “Oh, I can’t Saturday, I have this photography thing.” It’s not a class, it’s not a seminar.. Really, I don’t know what to call it. It will have to remain a “thing”.

** FORTY-TWO!

-amy had an O.B. like that once.

I haven’t done this in a while, but today’s meetings had some good ones:

– Who’s next? Ben? What’s going on in Ben-dom?

– So what’s happening? What’s going on with that? Tell me about all the fixes you’re doing.
– I’m doing all the fixes.

– Well, Mr. X is taking another position within the organization, so it’s possible that this project will be taken over by Ms. Y–
– DOH!
(Ms. Y = troublemaker)

– I’m working on [a project] & [the client contact] needs to go back to the first grade.

– They’ve got to straighten out their paperwork, because it is a mess.
– I had an O.B. like that once.

(a minute later)

– Is it my turn? Are you finished? You done with your O.B. thing?

There are no shots of the interior, because we were too busy chasing Jocelyn from room to room while screaming, “DON’T TOUCH THAT!” and tearing out our hair. We were very grateful when the time came to strap her back into her carseat.

Gillette Castle is located in Gillette Castle State Park in East Haddam, CT. It was about 40 minutes away from our vacation house in Old Saybrook. It was built by William Hooker Gillette, who had a thing for portraying Sherlock Holmes on the stage. That is all I can tell you about him, because instead of being able to stand and listen to the nice lady who was relating all the pertinent details of the castle, James and I had to stop Jocelyn from climbing all over the roped off furniture and wiping her boogers on the beautifully tapestried walls.

One thing I do remember though (although I had to look it up to be exact), the castle was purchased by the state from his descendants, which would probably please him, because in his will, he stated his wish for the property not to fall into the hands of “some blithering saphead who has no conception of where he is or with what surrounded.”

He probably would have kicked Jocelyn out post haste.

More information can be found here.

Scene: Last night, about 9pm. Living room. I’ve been sitting in front of the TV reading blogs and finishing up my CD ripping for the last hour. James comes up from his office downstairs and flops into a chair.

James: Hi.

me: Hi.

James: Let’s not ever get divorced.

me: Ok. Good plan.

james: It’s just too much of a pain in the ass.

me: Sounds good.

me: I, Amy, take you James, as my husband for…. EVER!

James grins.

me: Now you.

james: I, James, take you amy, as my wife FOR-EEEEEVER!

I grin.

I kiss my fingertips and then leaaaannnn over. He kisses his fingertips and leaaans over and we both start making those little, “ooh can I reach without falling over?” noises until our fingertips touch and we slouch back in our respective seats.

me: Good, now we don’t have to bother with all that renewing our vows crap on our 10th anniversary.

james: Saves us some dough.

me: Yeah. Now we can just spend it on booze and wenches.

james: Amen.

CRIKEY!Astonished was I, when I read the news that Steve Irwin (The Crocodile Hunter) died a few days ago of a stingray’s barb straight to the heart. I heard on Monday, and every time I think of it, I get a little choked up. Steve was so full of personality and energy it is hard to beleive that he is really gone. Everything he did he did with such single-mindedness, and I have learned so much from his shows – and even more importantly, grown to LOVE the wild creatures he introduced to me. He loved wildlife so much, and the respect he held for animals taught me as well. His death was tragic, in that one would imagine it would come at the hands of some of the more dangerous creatures he handled.

Steve Irwin joins Jim Henson, Shel Silverstein, and (I know I’m forgetting some more) Dr. Suess in the “WHY GOD, WHY?!” category. When I think about his wife and 2 kids, tears come to my eyes.

He was on a radio talk show in the DC area a few years ago, and I only caught the tale end of it, but let’s just say, he totally KILLED, he was so awesome. A few minutes after the interview was over, the producer came in. He had talked to him a few minutes to ask him how he thought the show went, and to thank him for being on the show, etc. The DJs were astonished to hear how Steve was afraid he wasn’t “peppy” enough (can you imagine Steve Irwin not having enough energy?) and had actually gotten up a few hours before the interview (the time difference meant that it was sometime during the sleeping hours in Australia) to make sure he’d be “awake” enough to give a good interview.

Ah, crikey, I’m going to miss him.

WHY GOD, WHY?!!

CLASS NIGHTS

I spewed all Pollyanna-ish about making James’ gone-class-time to use for me, for craftiness, and really, it wasn’t a good comparison to the situation last summer. I was freaking out because I would have a Saturday with the kids, just as if it was a weekday, and I could see the whole summer droning out in front of me with a summer of all weekdays and only 1-day weekends, and I had to do something to keep it from feeling like a weekday.

That really isn’t the case here. It’s the dealing with the kids all myself that is tiring, with no buffer to keep Jocelyn from trying the bathroom door while I’m trying to pee, or going to inspect the newest creation that Ethan has built while I’m trying to get dinner on the table, or getting the jammies ready while the baths are in progress.

My plan for being crafty doesn’t really work, because it doesn’t alleviate all that, the way going on special expeditions alleviated Saturdays feeling like a weekday last summer.

So, I am taking the spirit of that post, but not the goals. I can’t really do crafty things before tehy’re in bed, not enough time, really, it’s filled with dinner, playing, tidying, baths, bedtime, etc. And after they’re in bed, that’s my time, just like any other day after they’re in bed. So while I may do crafty things in this time, I might not, the point is to make the CHOICE to not be grumpy about doing the evening routine by myself. And really, I am not, they are both old enough that it doesn’t feel like the chore it did last year. Ethan is helpful and can get into jammies and play until I’m done getting Jocelyn tucked in. The routine with a 4 year old and a 2 year old is infinitely better than with a 3 year old and a 1 year old (or younger).

SO, I’m just letting you know. Tuesdays/Thursdays, I may or may not do crafty things. Last night, I had more important things to do, like FINISHING getting my entire CD collection ripped to MP3 (i’ve been working on this all summer off and on) and getting pictures off the camera, converted to jpg, and up to flickr. YOu’ll be seeing some of our vacation pics over the next week or so.

STILL KIND OF CRAFTY

So, while I’m not dedicating Tuesday/Thursdays to craftiness, I still managed to do a cute thing for Ethan this past weekend. He has several pairs of pants that have holes in the knees but are otherwise perfectly fine, so…

MY NOSE! AHHHH MY NOSE!!

I have mentioned my super sensitive nose before. My nose is like a being unto itself. If it smells something it doesn’t like, it decides to punish me for putting it into contact with such abomination. Thus, my limited use of hairspray, and my abhorrence for the hand cream the Mary Kay lady leaves in the bathroom at work (it hasn’t been seen for sometime, thank god).

So yesterday we arrive home. It is the day the cleaning ladies come. Maybe I am just getting over my initial euphoria of having the house cleaned magically while we’re gone every 2 weeks, because I’m starting to get a little picky. I probably wouldn’t have been this picky yesterday though, if they hadn’t PUT STINKY CARPET FRESHENER POWDER on our carpets, or maybe it was just SPRAYING AIR FRESHENER EVERYWHERE, I don’t know WHAT IT WAS, but it STINKS. It REEKS of powdery floral stench ALL THROUGHOUT OUR HOUSE.

My nose is a very delicate organ. Do not accost the nose, or the nose will turn on you. This is not the first time the cleaning ladies have contaminated the air in my home, but after they had done it a few times, I called the office and requested that they not do it again. Ever. That was a month or so ago. And now they’ve done it again. I have a feeling that Jocelyn has the same delicate nasal passages that I have, because after I put her to bed, she spent the next hour coughing every 5 minutes, poor girl. Every time she coughed, I got angrier and angrier at the cleaning ladies.

Maybe it’s because of the stench that I started getting uber picky. They always leave a checklist of things they did on our kitchen table. I’m sure they go through the house, do their thing, then on their way out, whip out this sheet and quickly check off each box. Because I know they have never wiped down our kitchen cupboards. The reason I know this? Because they have cobwebs on them. I know they have never wiped down our baseboards. I know sometimes they don’t wipe all fingerprints off the woodwork and wipe off all window sills.. The reason I know this? BECAUSE THEY ARE STILL FILTHY.

I started getting all cranky about this as I was looking at their sheet, but then later i got a bit more reasonable. It’s not that I mind that they didn’t do these things, because honestly, the state we leave our house the mornings they come is probably not the best. If they didn’t have to spend time rearranging our piles of junk all throughout the house they probably WOULD have time to wipe off the cupboards, but as is, we’re only paying for X amount of hours, and if they can’t get to the baseboards without going over and charging me more, then yes. Please skip them. I’m just happy that the major things are getting done.

But really. Don’t kid yourself and try to put one over on me by checking every single box, because I’m not a dummy.

And if you put that stench in my home again, I’ll be calling up Merry Maids and dropping your ass.

– amy MY NOSE! MY NOSE!

It has been a hard week. A very difficult week. But I have made it, and have the fruits of my labors in a 2.5 lb loss! Yay me!

I hope everyone has a lovely Labor day weekend. We did, although with all the rain we’ve gotten we’ve spent most of it indoors and by Monday night, the kids were really stir crazy. They started RACING around and around the house and James and I just laid back and let them, because all that energy has to go SOMEWHERE.

Today they started school again, Jocelyn in the “Yellow Pony” class and Ethan in the “Red Heart” class. James reports that Ethan sailed into his classroom with nary a glance backward, but Jocelyn had a little more trouble. Which is weird, because it’s the same classroom she goes to every morning, and even had some of the same teachers she usually sees. They both have new teachers, but there are still plenty of familiar faces around so it is a little surprising that she had a tough morning. I hope tomorrow is better.

A year ago ?? Two years ago?

I think it was 2 years ago, because Jocelyn was a wee little baby then.

Why was I remembering 2 years ago? Oh yeah.

A year or two ago, when James informed me he was taking Saturday classes that summer, my heart dropped and my mind exploded and I thought I would sink into the depths of despair. My mind screamed in denial. Then it screamed in anger. I ALREADY HAVE TO WATCH THESE KIDS 5 DAYS A WEEK, 2 EVENINGS AND NOW YOU WON’T BE HERE SATURDAYS TOO??? I seriously felt so depressed I may have cried over it.

Before I go on, let me just say that this was during a period of time that James worked from home, and I stayed at home with the kids. It was a wonderful time, we would all get up around 7:30-8ish, shower/get dressed and then give daddy kisses as he headed down the stairs to work. He would come up now and then to go potty, we would all have lunch together, and whenever anyone was doing anything super cute (I know, how did he get ANY work done?) I would buzz him on the phone and he’d run up to come see.

So my (inner) cries of abandonment were really not too well founded. Except that the daily wear and tear of staying at home was obviously telling on my psyche.

I did something cool though. Despite my despair at the ruination of our weekends for the entire summer (and let me tell you, it really did ruin the summer. James would agree.) I decided to flip this situation on it’s head and do something fun every week. I tried to view it as a special time I got to take the kids somewhere cool and exciting. I tried to ignore the fact that I already had 5 other days with no James that I filled somehow without wanting to stick my head in the oven, and make Saturdays special.

The first day, I got everyone ready, packed the double stroller, some PBJs and drove into DC. We parked along the river, walked over by the round memorial (what, you don’t know which one I’m refering to? Bah! Sorry, the only name that keeps popping into my head is Jefferson and Lincoln, and I don’t think it’s either, it’s not on the mall) around the edge of the water, looking at the ducks, watching Ethan climbing UP and DOWN and UP and DOWN the steps of that one memorial that you can look over the water and see the white house (aren’t I helpful with all the names?) while I tried to hide behind a column and nurse Jocelyn. We watched folks playing football, we investigated every rock and twig and we saw a mother goose with a sweet little line of baby geese walking in a line just like a little goose-train.

It was a pretty nice day, and I remember feeling pleased on my way home. If I had just stayed home, I would have moped and gotten more depressed. I know that sometimes it is all about your choices, and not about how you feel, even when you don’t really feel like making that choice. It’s hard when you just want to wallow in the pity-party, but I decided to have fun, and dammit, I had fun.

I’m recalling all this because James went to his first class on Tuesday, and didn’t get home until 10pm. I’m not really depressed over this, but it was a nice summer with no classes, and it’s a bit of an adjustment to the new schedule. I thought about how Tuesday went, and am not particularly happy. I got the kids, got dinner ready, and then kind of lazed around reading a John Grisham book until bedtime while the kids played. Got them into bed w/out incident and then lazed around watching TV. I had the best intentions of cleaning the kitchen, but it got later and later and it wasn’t happening until James called and said, “YOU’RE CLEANING THE KITCHEN, AREN’T YOU??? YOU SHOULD CLEAN THE KITCHEN!” and then I got up and cleaned the kitchen.

I don’t know, I wasn’t sad, but I WAS wallowing a teeny bit. “Woe is me. James isn’t here, so I’ll just sit here and ignore my children and my dirty kitchen and read.”

Anyway, my point is, I think I need to rearrange my point of view on this whole no James 2x a week thing. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, feeling OH SO PUT UPON because I MUST CARE FOR OUR CHILDREN WITHOUT AID FOR 3 WHOLE HOURS, TWICE A WEEK, I’ve decided to view it as 2 nights when after the kids are in bed, I can do absolutely my own thing.

So the point to all this? I dedicate Tuesday and Thursday nights to craftiness! No more feeling sorry for myself, I shall look forward to these two nights as the nights I get creative, in whatever fashion I choose. I have been dipping my toes into some crafty projects lately, and some are still in the mid-way phase. Tonight I’m going to try to finish Jocelyn’s Hello Kitty pillow.

Next, I’ll finish the bears.

and THEN, THE WORLD! MUAHAHAHAHA!

– amy “NO MORE! TALE TO TELL!” be-damy

http://www.nexusmagazine.com/articles/soydangers.html

I’m not in a full fledged panic now (as I was before).

James pointed out the homepage of this website to me:

> *NEXUS is an international bi-monthly alternative news magazine,
> covering the fields of: Health Alternatives; Suppressed Science;
> Earth’s Ancient Past; UFOs & the Unexplained; and Government Cover-Ups. *

So, anyway.

I’ve been, ONCE AGAIN, trying to introduce Jocelyn to dairy. She can eat cheese. She can eat yogurt. But in the past, when she consumes milk (or close derivatives thereof, like mac and cheese (lots of milk in the powdery stuff, so even made with soy milk is no good) and kraft american cheese (let’s face it that stuff is basically congealed milk)) she gets the runny nose like you wouldn’t beleive that leads to a cough and fever and sometimes ear infections.

I was going super duper slow this time. The last 3 days, I’ve added 1 tablespoon of milk to her soy milk. that’s it. And only to one drink, not to all drinks.

All was going well, until last night, when Jocelyn woke up crying at 3am. That’s right. Snottified. She woke up again at 5am. I went in and held her in the rocker, all wrapped up in her pink blankie that my mom made for her when she was born.
“Are you sick Jocelyn?”
“Yes. I’m sick.”
“Is your tummy sick?” (touching her tummy)
“Yes, my tummy is sick.”
“Is your throat sick?” (touching her throat)
“Yes, my throat is sick.”
“Is your nose sick?” (touching her nose)
“Yes, my nose is sick.”
(mommy frowns)
“Are your legs legs sick?” (rubbing her legs)
“Yes. My legs are sick.”
“Are your feet sick?”
“Yes, my feet are sick.”
I don’t think I’d put her on the witness stand.

I’m exhausted this morning.

I sat and rocked her for a while, the sky still dark with night. She has always been such a good sleeper, that we never really had to get up with her in the night. Her curls were all flung every which way from sleep that she looked like a sweet adorable baby medusa. Finally I put her back in her bed and fetched some cough syrup for her. She slept the rest of the night (a whopping 2 hours). She is getting so big and capable and already knows how to instantly throw her big brother and thus, the rest of the household into a fuss. Where did my little baby girl go?

Anyway.

This no dairy thing is driving me INSANE. I really thought maybe this time she’d outgrown it.
Anyway.

-amy wishes she knew all the answers