Saturday, June 26, 2010

I'm Taking It Back. Again

Brand new giveaway for Chicago peeps - The Emperor's New Clothes at the Shakespeare Theater here!

***

Hmmm. I just realized that I'm posting about my husband two days in a row here, which is very unusual for me. I usually don't post about him at all. Don't read anything into this. Apparently with him home for the summer (he's a teacher), he's cracking me up a little more than normal!

So.

My husband - like many men these days - uses an electric razor to shave. It's easier, you don't need shaving cream, it works better, it doesn't require replacing...

Oh. Wait.

My husband's razor has been replaced. He somehow broke the one he'd bought for himself early in our marriage. With his birthday coming up soon after he broke it, I bought him a new one. A nicer one.

He broke that one a couple years later.

Father's Day was rapidly approaching, and I bought him another newer, nicer one. This one even had a little holder thingie that cleaned your razor for you, so you didn't even have to do that - just press a button and whir it went.

Fast forward another couple years, and that razor stopped holding a charge. Primarily because there was a little orange light that shone on it that drained the battery. Rapidly.

He would plug it in and leave it plugged in until the next morning (rather than simply plugging in it a minute or two before he needed to use it). Being the frugal cheap environmentally-conscious person that I am, I unplugged it every time I walked past it.

Magically, one day last spring, the orange light turned off, and once again, all was well with the world. I was even able to return the new razor I'd purchased for him for Father's Day.

Then came fall, where the light reappeared. Needless to say, we returned to our habits - my husband leaving it plugged in forever and me following behind to unplug it after he'd used it. Oh, and I bought him another new razor for Christmas.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, he went snooping in my car and found his gift hidden in my storage panel. Unlike his family, which tells people what to buy for them, I'm a big believer in gifts being a surprise. On the principle of it (and hoping that orange light would magically fix itself again), I returned the razor.

The light is still on today.


And with Father's Day having occurred less than a week ago, I once again bought him a new razor. This time, it wasn't nicer than the one he was using. Silly me, I bought him one that's identical to the one he had previously - we'll see how long before the orange light comes on. (And hey - if ANYone has a solution to the orange light on a Norelco electric razor, let me know!)

This time, I gave him the razor.

Upstairs in our bathroom, do you know what's on our counter today? Several days after Father's Day?


Yep, that's how I was able to take a picture of the orange light today. My husband is still using his mostly broken down razor. The new one remains in the box. I figure my husband has another two, maybe three, days before I decide to return the new razor. Again.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Men. They Think They're Funny

I have a very yummy - and natural! - kettle corn giveaway here!

***

I have a cool little thing in my shower - and no, it's not what you'd expect. I have a waterproof notepad and pencil. You know, so I can make those lists that I talk about sometimes. It's actually a pretty cool thing to have.

Some people abuse the privilege though, as evidenced by this "conversation."


Let me translate for those of you who don't read scribble.

My husband: I reserved a rm 4 Friday (7/23 drawn in with an arrow - just in case I wasn't sure from the context of the rest of the note what date he was talking about ... and because it was so germane to the discussion anyway) night at Imperial Palace (right there, this should give you a clue that he's going alone and I'm staying home!) for $56 (including tax), and I'll take the $5 shuttle instead of a taxi.

Me: Do you know how much I hate text speak? (It's truly a pet peeve of mine, especially coming from educated people when writing and not actually texting.) And is this really something to share via shower mail? (Because, ya know - when talking about vacations, especially guy weekends, maybe this should be a real converation?)  Am I that scary? (Hey, there has to be some justification, right? I'm trying to throw him a lifeline here.)

My husband: Shower mail! Ha! Good one! We've invented a whole new form of communication!

And once again? Men are from Mars, women are from Venus. At least I can find the humor in how guys take in information and process it, right?

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Ummm, What Was I Saying?

Are you a fan of sweet? Like kettle corn perhaps? Go enter here!

***

I'm a list person. I love making lists, and I love to cross things off the lists.

Earlier today, I was brimming with ideas for blog posts. If I remember correctly - and at this point, who knows if I do or not - I had a good five posts in my brain.

And now? I can't think of a single one of them. I composed many of them in my head even, and some of them were brilliant (I can say this now, as there's no proof to refute my statement). My mind has gone blank.

While musing over the posts, I debated opening Blogger and drafting the start of a few of them. I decided that wasn't necessary. I need to rethink that a bit. Oops.

Don't you hate it when you can't remember what you were going to say? And I can't even blame pregnancy brain.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The New Girl In Town

I have a very yummy - and natural! - kettle corn giveaway here!

***

Growing up, I moved around a lot. Well, somewhat a lot - I know people who moved way more than me, but ... point being we moved six times before I hit the fourth grade. Generally, I was fine with that. I always loved exploring new places and meeting new friends and the like. I'm lucky that way.

It was slightly different when I moved to that new school in fourth grade though. While my parents are by no means poor, we are absolutely not conspicuously wealthy either. The Catholic school they sent me to? Wow.

The conversations - at fourth grade - were about the pool at the country club, the boating they did on the weekend, the designer jeans, etc etc.

And me? I had no country club. I'd never been on a boat. And jeans? Ha! My conservative mom had never bought me any. I honestly didn't own a pair.

As I started to see the lay of the land, I began begging my mom for some of these things - not realizing the cost of a country club membership or how far out of reach that would be. We never did join that country club. And we never got a boat.

On the plus side, we became really good friends with a couple people who had a boat who invited us on it regularly. And I became good friends with a couple of girls who also didn't do the boating thing (by choice) where it wasn't a focus.

Since it was the 80's, once I convinced my mom to buy me some Jordache jeans, I eventually learned how to roll them up properly so that I fit in. Mostly.

But oh that terror in my heart, the fear that seized me and froze me when the girls would start to talk and then just ... look at me. Waiting for me to contribute. And in the fourth grade, I didn't have anything to contribute.

It was the hardest time I ever had fitting in, and my mom didn't get it. I was reminded of this struggle when reading Girl in Translation recently by Jean Kwok (which I highly recommend reading - loved, loved, loved this book). In the end, I found my place in that school and in that town, but it was so different from anything I'd experienced prior to that.

And honestly? It was probably a very healthy eye-opening experience. For me to see the difference in people so starkly, to see the focus on wealth and learn how to deal with it when I ... wasn't quite in their league, I think made me a far stronger and happier person.

It allowed me the happiness to buy a house that we can afford rather than stretching. And it allowed me the courage to finally quit my job to stay home with the wee ones - a far more important job, anyway.

What lessons has your childhood taught you?

This post is a part of is Silicon Valley Mom's Blog book club. Go check out what this book inspired in other moms. I received a copy of the book to inspire my post (and highly recommend it), but this is not a review, nor did I receive any compensation for writing this post.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

You're My Inspiration

Are you a fan of sweet? Like kettle corn perhaps? Go enter here!

***

Every time I think about this post, I have that song going through my head - and I do again - "You give meaning to my life; you're my inspiration...." In the best vein of misery loves company, I can only hope that at least one of you is now suffering my fate.

I have a point though - shocking, I know.

I'm not one to do things halfway. I set large goals, and then - for the most part - I go after them. Take a trip back in time with me, will you?

I had a really neat goal a couple years ago - to run a 5k. I started doing the C25K program, and for the most part, it went fairly well. A good friend of mine who you would not peg as a runner told me how she had started to run 5ks and talked me into it.

In the beginning, it was great. A friend of mine from my neighborhood joined up with me after the first week, and we ran together. Having her with me was a huge help as we went from sixty second runs to ten minute runs. Then her knee started giving her problems, and I was on my own.

It was ok though. I had joined a gym to run inside (ummm I don't sweat, so running outdoors in the summer is not ideal), and I made it through week six with its twenty-five minute run, and week seven with its twenty-eight minute run. It wasn't easy, and I wasn't fast, but I did it.

Then summer hit. And so did the excuses. I missed a few runs here and there, and pretty soon there was no way I was running for twenty minutes. Over the next ahhhh two years, I was off and on running - frequently able to pick it up at week 5 (five minute runs) or week 4 (three and five minute runs). Then I was down to week 3.

I spent week after week at week 3. For whatever reason, I just couldn't get past it to start week 4, even though I was running my requisite three times a week. I was frustrated, but I kept trying.

Then I heard that Melisa was also planning to do the C25K program. And we somehow got ourselves signed up to run the 5K at BlogHer (our collective first!). She talked about her strategy and the days she was running. And I realized that maybe this is something I can do.

I hear her updates and see her happy Tweets about what she's accomplished. And you know what? It's kept me running, too. The days I think about skipping because I'm tired or it's too late or I have something else going on? I think about Melisa running no matter what, and I go.

I made it through week 3. I completed week 4. All the while, I remembered Melisa and her unflagging determination, and she kept me going. As I got into the longer runs, it got harder. I wanted to stop and take breaks. But I powered through - because Melisa was keeping me honest. On Friday, I completed - without stopping once - a twenty minute run. Yesterday, I did my five / ten / five run, and tomorrow I have a long twenty-five minute run.

Wow. After tomorrow I start week 7, and then I have two weeks before I'm truly running a full 5k - in plenty of time for our BlogHer 5k. I may not be fast, and I definitely won't be first, but I know I'll at least complete it before they close the course.

Running with a live partner the first time around was huge. And having a virtual partner now with Melisa? Well, I have this little song I need to sing to her....

Monday, June 21, 2010

Tasty Tuesday!

Are you a fan of sweet? Like kettle corn perhaps? Go enter here!

***

I love being productive. It's wonderful all the things I can get done when I really put my mind to it. The only bad side effect? My days start to run together because I do so much. Needless to say, I thought for a moment that I'd actually forgotten about Tasty Tuesday.

Nope, I didn't forget that, but I did forget that I'd promised to bring our fire department some treats today (along with several other friends of mine). Fortunately, one of them called me at 7am to see if I could bring hers over for her.

After debating what to make - since I also wanted to go running at the gym after filling up my car with gas (the dummy light was on - oops!) and do a load of laundry before picking up the wee ones from summer school - I settled on a yummy bar cookie.

My husband insists they're evaporating, but I don't believe him. They are pretty darn good though!

Chocolate Chip Oat Bars

Ingredients:
2/3 c butter
1 1/2 c brown sugar
2 t vanilla
2 eggs
1 c oats
1 t baking powder
1/4 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
1 1/2 c flour
2 c (or more) chocolate chips

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350 and grease a 9x13 pan.

Melt the butter in a large, heavy saucepan with the brown sugar. Remove from heat once melted and stir until fully dissolved. Add the vanilla and beaten eggs and mix until well combined (make sure you beat the eggs well before adding them!).

Add the baking powder and soda, salt, and oats. Mix well. Add the flour and stir gently until just mixed. The batter will still be somewhat soupy - that's ok! Pour the batter into your greased pan. Sprinkle the chocolate chips evenly over the batter.


Bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes - until a tester comes out clean. Cut into squares and hope no one else sees them!


Enjoy this and more with Blessed With Grace and Tempt My Tummy Tuesday!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

T-Ball Coaching: Lessons From The Trenches

Are you a fan of sweet? Like kettle corn perhaps? Go enter here!

***

Today was the last day of the t-ball season for the wee ones. This was the first time (and probably the only) time that they played on the same team. One set of games, no conflicts - oh it was lovely.

And did I mention that I coached? Yeah, there's goes that I-can't-say-no bug again. A lot of the reason I coached though was because we had such a poor coach last year. Nothing against him personally, but he had no experience, nor did he have the personality nor interest in t-ball to make it an experience where the kids got something out of it. After complaining, I sort of felt like I had to justify my complaints by getting involved.

And it has been a fun season - the kids all progressed, though obviously some at a much fast rate than others. I won't be sad to see it end completely - the hot and humid days in Chicago are upon us - but I learned a lot from the experience.


Which of course means that I need to share with you, too.

Behold, the Top Ten Things I Learned As A T-Ball Coach:

10) A snack is not optional.
We started out the year with the idea that it's a 45 minute to an hour long game. With maybe twenty minutes of practice beforehand. The kids don't need another junk food snack in their day. The other coach and I were good with that. By the second week, enough complaints were heard that we reluctantly instituted snacks.

9) The biggest challenge is ensuring there are no fistfights on the field.
Fortunately, this wasn't something that involved the adults. Instead, it was like the pee wee hockey or soccer games you see with a swarm of children following wherever the ball goes. Knowing my wee ones, I instituted a system for them that quickly spread to the whole team and seemed to work well.

As we got out onto the field, I drew a large circle with my heel approximating where each child was to stand. It was the circle "where they lived" while on the field, and they adored it. As we went out, they started to ask me to draw their circles. And some added to them, making them more square than circle or drawing an initial inside.

Once the kids were properly positioned, they were admonished that they were only allowed to leave their home and enter the burning lava where the ball was if if called their names. Thus "Peter's ball" was actually respected. Most of the time. Go fig.

8) Figuring out how to teach five and six year olds the "ready position" is pretty hopeless.
The other coach started out the season by calling that position "down and dirty." While good in concept - your glove is down where it can get dirty - it unfortunately was too open to interpretation.

Some kids sat down and got dirty. Some kids placed dirt in their gloves and tossed it. Some kids squatted all the way down. Some kids hunched their backs, resulting in eyes focused on the dirt and not the play - something that freaks me out, having seen more than one player injured in the past by not paying attention.

Over the course of the season, we tried one gambit after the other, but I'm pretty sure the video evidence will show that we never once managed to have all the kids in the ready position prior to a play at the same time. We were lucky if they all had their gloves on their hands.


7) Just about any child can hit a coach-pitch ball... once.
Midway through the season, our league switches from true t-ball to a coach pitch game, whereby each player get "four" pitches from the coach to hit the ball before resorting to the tee. By moving kids around, adjusting bat positions, etc., we achieved most kids hitting from the pitched ball within a couple weeks - with exceptions here and there throughout the games. Sometimes it isn't the kid that needs to adapt; it's the coaches.


6) Although the coach meeting prior to the season and the rules of the game state that kids are to given only four coach pitched balls before moving back to the tee, this didn't often happen in reality.
Our team was one of the very few that would bring out the tee after the fourth missed ball to ensure the game moved along and that no child was embarrassed after five minutes of swinging and missing. Really, after Suzy has missed the ball by a mile four times in a row, another four balls isn't magically going to turn her into Sammy Sosa.

5) Getting hit in the face with a ball isn't conducive to improving your skills.
Poor Mister Man. At a game I couldn't attend because I was on my way from work (don't ask), another father was helping to warm up the kids before the game by playing catch. He unfortunately threw a ball when Mister Man wasn't looking, and it hit him in the face. I did make it to the game in time to see him foul off a ball into his face (though luckily, I talked him into continuing to bat, and he got a hit the next pitch - phew!). Ever since that point, he's been afriaid of the ball and looks away when it comes close enough to catch. We're still working on breaking him of that habit, but unfortunately, his skills both in the field and at the plate have taken a nosedive since then.

Note to self: Always make sure a kid is looking and acknowledges you before throwing a ball. I can't handle the pressure of ruining another kid's game!

4) Don't serve snacks until after the post-game meeting.
After each game, we would always gather up to talk about who did what things really well during the game. Each kid loved puffing up with pride as we talked about great throws or hustle or hitting, etc. But once a parent opened up the snack bin immediately following the game? Yeah, we lost them. They're working on their sugar highs and anything we may have to say to them takes a backseat. We haven't had a good meeting since.

3) The game ball is a great motivator.
Another purpose of the post game meeting is to hand out the game ball, which kids treasure far more than I imagined they would (our coach last year didn't hand out game balls, so I can only assume that he kept the extra twenty-four balls he was provided - ahem). Every week, kids would ask if they were getting the game ball and what they needed to do to earn it. While we were sure that each kid got the game ball an equal number of times, we weren't shy in reminding them that things like not saying mean things to players on the other team (in the instances where they needed to use the tee) or ensuring they kept their gloves on their hands and the like were prerequisites for earning a game ball.

Now that I think about it, maybe we should have made down and dirty a motivator. Oops, too late.

2) Grandparents are an integral part of the t-ball experience.
Inevitably, one of the wee ones comes to me while at a game. Moooommmmmmy, I have to go potty! So what do I do? I simply point the offending wee one (who did go before we left the house, btw) at the nearest grandparent and send them to the gross, nasty Port-a-Potty. Ahhhh, crisis averted.

And the number one thing I learned while coaching t-ball?

1) Don't assume kids know any of the rules of baseball.
At the beginning of the year, some of our practices consisted of running the bases and teaching the kids where each base was and where to run. It was, sadly, a necessary lesson - for my wee ones, too. (Hey dads, go watch more baseball with your little kids!) Throughout the season, we rotated where kids played in the field with each inning. We would tell Joey to go to second base and lead him to it. We would tell Ricky that he was playing pitcher and lead him to it.

At today's last game? Mikey, you're playing third base. Ummm Coach, where's third base? Oh vey.

So what have you learned from your sports experiences?

  © Blogger template 'Solitude' by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP