What the @#$% is a Connitt?

For about a year now, Goofy Junior has been mentioning a creature called a "connitt" (my spelling). The mention of the connitt always follows mention of things like spiders, snakes, lions and tigers. So connitts seem to fall in the general realm of the icky/dangerous type of critter.

I've never heard of such a creature. I've even gone so far as to do Internet searches for the elusive connitt.

In the past, I've tried to determine if I was just hearing the word wrong.

Me: Cougar?
Junior: No. Connitt.

Me: Condor?
Junior: NO! Connitt.

Me: Comet.
Junior: NO, Mommy! CONNITT. (said very slowly, like I'm three years old instead of him)

So I'm pretty sure that it's "connitt", even though I still don't know what that is. It's actually very scary how consistent he is about describing them.

Tonight he mentioned them again. We were talking about how dark it was getting and that it might storm. He said something like, "we should go inside so the connitts won't get us". So, like an idiot, I pressed for more information.


What do they eat?
They eat trucks.

Are they bigger than a dog?
Yes.

Are they bigger than a cow?
No.

Do they growl?

No.

Do they talk?
No, they are quiet.

Where do they live?
I don't know.

Is it hot or cold where they live?
They live in the sky.

Do they fly?
No, they move.

I'm perplexed. Is this a made-up creature in some kid's book? Is it one of those obscure critters (like the wombat) that is mentioned only on Baby Einsten videos? Or is my son a Stephen King wannabe and is making up things that go bump in the night? That's my boy!

Fate or Fuck-up?

Loving Husband and I have recently put in the paperwork to adopt again. We adopted our first son from Russia. He is absolutely perfect, in every single way. Well, there's that annoying screaming and no nap thing, but I digress...

Yet again, we jumped through all the flaming rings of red tape that are the Russian Adoption Process. We wrote autobiographies, we did financial statements, we got criminal background checks, we got referral letters from friends and family. We got all this stuff notarized. Then we got all this stuff apostilled (a fancy term for "we don't believe your notary is a notary, so we make you get the Secretary of State to staple a piece of paper on top of the document and then we believe you"). BTW, apostilling costs $10 a document. Can I get an "ouch"?

Finally we had a critical mass of documentation. And I do mean "critical". Our dossier (a fancy term for "great gob o' paperwork") would break your foot if dropped upon it. We were issued a I-600 form to complete, then instructed to turn it in at CIS (previously known as INS) and get fingerprinted.

Our first appointment consisted of getting turned away at the door because we did not have a copy of our adoption agency's license. Huh? With our first adoption, we did not need that. Guess what? They changed the rules. Damn bureaucrats! Can you still call them that if they're Russian?

Could we call and have them fax a copy of the license in? NO. They did not have a fax machine for that purpose. HUH? Doesn't everyone with a pulse have a fax machine? I could probably send a fax on my phone nowadays...if the touch-screen would work. ...but there I go digressing again.

Anyway, we made another appointment, and with license in hand, we got in and got fingerprinted. It went so smoothly. We should have known something was up...

We recently got a nice, official-looking packet in the mail. It is from the American Consultate General. It contains a "welcome to the adoption process" letter, and application for visas for us to travel, and a nice map to the consultate office overseas.

One problem...it's from China.

Balance

Balance, balance, balance,
they say it's what to strive for.
But when I start to nix one thing,
up pop three or four more.
I killed a business late last spring,
it really was a helpful thing.
But then I picked up sports and wine
and started going out to dine.
My hubbie got a brand new job
with lots of new demands.
Since he is busy much more now,
I need three sets of hands.
I'm working hard and playing hard
and trying to stay sane.
But finding time to laugh and sing,
is really quite a pain.
Balance, balance, balance,
it sounds so easy, right?
When when I try to do it all,
I end up up all night.

Fun Stuff!

Not much time to post, but I'll share something that I just found. It's a site with super-cool, unique stuff for sale. Cool. Cheap! Even cooler.

Check it out: Plum Party Boutiques

My wish list is getting quite long from this site. I call dibs on the izzy stripe tote!

And the 'delight' party set too! Just because it reminds me of those coloring books that were popular when I was in about middle school. Anyone else remember those? The ones that had very intricate designs, and you bought special thin-tipped markers to color in. No? Okay, ya, well, I'm old. I'll look on the good ole 'Net and see if I can find a picture or something.

And while we're at it...the tinserella wine glass fringes. What fun!

Enjoy!

UPDATE: Well folks, I'm officially older than dirt (or at least the Internet). I cannot find hide nor hair of the magic marker books. They were mostly flower designs, if I'm remembering right. If anyone has a clue as to what I'm talking about, and can find a decent link, let me know. You'll get bonus Goofy points.

MORE UPDATE: Ah! My faith in the Internet is restored. I guess the books were called "Stained Glass Coloring Books". I couldn't find a flower example, but here's another good example. Whew. Mystery solved.

Why?!

Why is it...

That my mobile phone breaks (the touchscreen quits working, and I have to muddle through with the button navigation - ARG!), but when I finally (after a week!) make an appointment at the phone store, it magically starts working again? And this is the second time this schedule/magically-fixed sequence has happened!

That I finally get a free 20 minutes to pop by the drugstore for my high-dollar mascara (L'oreal Panoramic Curl, if you're curious), and the store is out. Out! They got the non-waterproof, which will be dribbling down my cheeks by noon, they got purple and grey colors, which don't help my translucent eyelashes a single bit. They got every color and style EXCEPT the one I need.

That on nights when I had tasks to do (work, bills, wine bottling, etc.), Goofy Junior decides to stage a strike on bedtime, but when I have nothing planned, he jumps into bed, grins and says, "night-night". And actually goes to sleep!

That my 3-year-old son is obsessed with flip-flops. He kept stealing mine, so I had to break down and buy him a pair. Try finding flip-flops in toddler sizes! I hit the mother lode at our grocery store - child's size small flip-flops for a buck. He loves them. I plan on buying a dozen.

That I bought Stephen King's "The Dark Tower VII" book (all 800+ pages of it) in hardback, when it first came out (a year ago maybe) for about $35, but the only way I have time to "read" it is to go to library and get the audio CDs. For free.
NOTE: For any King fans out there, it's excellent. I'm really dreading getting to the end of this seven book series.

That my husband and I's normally pretty standard 40-hours-per-week jobs have both gotten crazy, to the point of about 50-hours-per-week AT THE SAME TIME. And we lost our once-a-week babysitter AT THE SAME TIME. Let's just say I'm really looking forward to the weekend, even though on Sunday (yes Mother's Day), I'll probably be in the office for a few hours.

I feel like Seinfeld with this stuff, but it helps to vent about the strangeness and ironic timing of some of this stuff.

Or maybe it's just life.

Goofy Checks In

No great "deep thoughts" postings this week (not that there are many of those type anyway from me). Here's what I've been up to, in no particular order...

I bottled my wine! Yippee! I now have 30 bottles of Chateau de Goofy - House of Pain blend. Chateau de Goofy is pretty self-explanatory. The House of Pain blend is due to the pain during the wine making process: physical, mental, spiritual. These past few months have been hard, so I want to look back and remember this time. When I'm drinking heavily.

The hardest part of bottling was cleaning 30 fucking bottles! De-labeling, cleaning, sterilizing. Then pouring and corking. All the full, corked bottles are on the workbench downstairs, like an army of soldiers waiting for battle. The battle must wait though...the soldiers have six months of aging ahead of them before they can go anywhere. It's an exercise in patience. Something I don't have a lot of.

My breasts are fine and dandy. I'm sick of talking 'bout 'em!

My back, on the other hand, is not fine and dandy. I quit going to the chiropractor and guess what? My back still hurts. The key is...it doesn't hurt any MORE than when I was going. After much introspection and pressing for advice from friends, I decided to go the "traditional medicine" method, and talked to my general practitioner doc. He promptly prescribed anti-inflammatories and physical therapy. I haven't started the drugs - I have a problem with "masking" the symptoms before I go to the PT and the anti-inflammatories come with so many warning labels that I can hardly see inside the bottle (no drinking. no advil. no sun. may make you dizzy or tired.) I can't wait for the physical therapy. I've heard that they figure out which exercise makes you hurt, then promptly make you do three sets. Oh joy!

Work is Ca-razy (notice the capital "C"). My company is spinning off from its parent company in exactly ONE WEEK. We will lose most of our servers, databases, data...basically a lot of our infrastructure is going away. I fear that a lot of small details have been overlooked and we will all end up standing outside the building next Thursday morning, wondering why none of our access card work. ...you think I'm joking. Hmmm....

We are trying to figure out what to do with Memorial Day. There are several activities going on here in town, but we are getting itchy feet. We wanted to go camping in mid-April, but the rain (and cold!) wouldn't allow it. We are both taking Friday off before the holiday, and it's hard to pass up a FOUR-DAY weekend to travel somewhere. Where to go? Where to go? Stay tuned and you'll find out.

Speaking of travel, I started last year doing a trip on my own. No hubbie, no friends. Just me and 6-8 other strangers. I really like meeting other people, especially active people that enjoy the outdoors, so this is a good thing. But I can't figure out where to go. I have a whopping FOUR WEEKS of vacation this year, so I could take a week without blinking. But the little kid inside me says, "Hmmm...one trip for a week. Nah. Take two trips of 3 days each! See more stuff! Experience more things!" Sigh. The latest choices are kayaking in the San Juan Islands (by Washington State); kayaking in Kenai Fjords National Park (in Alaska); or hiking, rafting and canoeing in the Canadian Rockies. From these choices, you'd think I like to be cold and wet. Guess I'll find out, huh?

I also made a Gooey Butter Cake tonight. It turned out about eight times better than I could have imagined. Deliciouso! I planned on taking it into work, but Loving Husband is trying to talk me out of it. That's a compliment of the highest order. I'm headed downstairs now to get a Goofy-sized slice and a cuppa Joe. Cheers!

Goofy Glows in the Dark?

Soon, I will glow in the dark. I've been x-rayed so many, many times, and more to come. WTF you say? Let me explain....

First there was the back pain*. Complete with follow-up x-ray to determine progress (not much, if you're curious).

Then there was the Big 4-0 Celebratory Mammogram (but yet... no parade with streamers. sigh.) Squish and x-ray both boobs.

Then the scary "You Didn't Get Mail, You got the Scary Phone Call" Follow-up Mammogram. Squish and x-ray that suspicious-looking right boobie only.

Then the "We Still Don't Like What We See, So Let's Operate" needle biopsy (aka THE DRILL). Followed up with (you guessed it, folks), more squishing and x-raying of that pesky right bazoomba. **

Then attention turned upward (Thank the heavens!) to my teeth. Annual dental exam last week. Need to x-ray those teeth. This time I got a spooky full-frontal x-ray. My eyes were in it! Well, not the eyes, because they don't show up, but the sockets. Ew! Very spooky to look at. But no cavities, ma!

Today I went to the doctor for The Cold That Started in March. It's still here and I'm pissed. Doc refused to give me antibiotics back in April (what, is there a shortage of these, like the gas?), so I got some crazy bronchitis thing. It's okay during the day, but at night, the chest congestion rolls in like low tide into the ocean. He put me on an inhaler (new experiences..yeah!) and ordered me up a chest x-ray. At least there's no squishing involved.

And, because I'm a glutton for punishment, I mentioned my back (see first item above). He poked me in the back and decided to order me up a back x-ray.

So sometime this week I get to have my chest and back x-rayed. In all seriousness, I will ask the technician about all this x-raying and it's affect on my health. I can't imagine I'll be able to sleep well with all the glowing in the dark and all.


* This was actually one of my better posts. If you got some time to burn, check it out. The rest of the links are there for show.
** Everything turned out negative (as in GOOD) from all this. And now I have a cool scar that I can't show anyone.

Goofy Falls Off the Cool Wagon

I pride myself on being Fairly Cool Mom. I avoid-like-the-plague the 'traditional' kiddie institutions, like Chuck E. Cheese, McDonald's, etc. You know, those bastions of bad food, sugary drinks, too much stimulation and rape-and-pillage prices.

But I fell off the wagon tonight. Well, let's be honest here...my husband grabbed me by the shirt collar and PULLED me off the cool wagon. We went to the Rainforest Cafe tonight.

This place used to be cool. I remember going to the one at the Mall of America in Minneapolis about eight years ago. We had to wait about 30 minutes to get a table. The atmosphere was indeed rainforest-like...dark...fake thunder/lightning...rain...moving animotronic animals..lots of 'wild' sounds. It was kitzchy, and the food was bad, but overall it was different and fun.

So fast-forward to today. Goofy Junior (aka The Boy Who Is Potty Training Himself) decided that he didn't want to wear a diaper today and told his daycare teacher such. Since he already had underwear on over his diaper, she took off the diaper and he went 'commando' for the morning. He actually made it until 11:30am before an "oops". Anyway, we applauded his efforts and decided to take him someplace fun for dinner.

Here's how it happened...

Me: So what is "fun for dinner" for a toddler?
Loving Hubbie(aka Wagon Jacker): Anyplace with balloons and games.
Me: Like where? (getting worried now)
LH: CHUCK E. CHEESE
Me: NEVER. Try again.
LH: How about Rainforest Cafe?
Me: (comparing the two and deciding at least I can get an adult bev at RFC) Um....okay.

Did you hear the YANK? Yep. That's the precise moment I fell was pulled off the Cool Wagon.

When we got there, the place was empty. Granted it's a Monday, but it was pretty obviously not the coolest place to be. I decided against the adult bev, as it came in a lighted, blinking glass. We took turns touring Junior past the animatronic, twitching elephants ("They're BIG Mommy!"), the hooting and jerking-like-bad-break-dancer gorillas ("I don't like them...they're LOUD!") and the giant fish tank ("NEMO!!! NEMO AGAIN!! TWO NEMOS!!!").

At least he was digging it.

Our waitress came several times as we went over the menu, stunned by the high prices for over-rated bar food with "rainforesty" names (Volcanic Cobb Salad, Rumble in the Jungle Turkey Wrap). We settled on a mixed appetizer platter to split. Junior got popcorn shrimp. As I remembered, the food was mediocre at best...although the popcorn shrimp were mightly tasty.

As we ate, we noticed that approximately every 10 minutes, the gang of servers would come out with a ginormous cake/ice cream dessert in the shape of a volcano, and sing Happy Birthday to another table. Junior dug this, and clapped after each song. I started suspecting that this was the main reason that even the small amount of patrons had come here. Free dessert, folks. It's a great marketing tool!

But even though I'm off the wagon, and still dusting myself off, there was a Proud Momma moment. During dinner, we mentioned to the waitress that it was Junior's first time at RFC. She looked surprised and said, "Wow! I wouldn't have known. He's not crying. What a big boy!"

I don't know who beamed more...me or Junior. Maybe being a Fairly Cool Mom That Sometimes Falls Off the Wagon is not so bad, indeed.

Goofy Easter Egg Hunting

When Goofy Junior does an Easter Egg Hunt, it's a contact sport.

Check it out (it's worth the wait):

Click here to see the video

Meet the Goofy Dogs

While reading about Cagey's dilemna about whether or not to get a dog, I started thinking about my dogs. I have the bestest dogs ever! They don't require a lot of exercise, but they will never pass up the offer of a walk. They are, for the most part, fairly calm and quiet dogs. They are also loving dogs, but not "lap dogs". And they don't lick you incessantly, like some labs I know. Ew!

Meet Casey and Murphy, my Siberian Huskies:
(Murphy is the one with the cigar.)


Casey is 14 and Murphy is 9. We've had Casey since she was a pup (about 4 months old). We adopted Murphy, who is actually Casey's "niece", when she was 3.

Huskies are awesome dogs. They are extremely gentle with our 3-year-old son. He has pulled ears, stepped on paws and yanked tails, and they just move out of the way. Ocassionally they bonk him with a snout, but never a growl or baring of teeth. And he's deserved it a few times!

The one drawback of huskies is that twice a year (spring and fall), they shed their winter coat as the seasons change. This produces a little bit of fur:

(That's Casey in the back. The ball of fur we just brushed off is in the front.)


As personalities go, huskies are very much like cats. They really don't jump around and follow you, begging for attention. They are more subtle. You might even say "sneaky". If you are on the couch watching TV, they might come by and stand so that your hand is in close proximity to their chest...just in case you might want to pet them for a while. If you don't get the hint, they might give you a short bark and poke you with the snout. But after a few minutes of petting, they move on to other pursuits...usually sleeping.


As far as big dogs go, Casey is really pushing the limit on age. I've heard good life expectancy is around 15 years, so she's definitely in the senior citizen category. I can't imagine life without her, but our life has been so much better for having her in it. And hopefully vice versa for her.

Psyche!

Remember back in (God, I can't believe I'm dating myself like this) high school - call it the eighties. You'd tell someone something unbelievable, the say, "psyche!". As in "Just joshin' ya", "I'm totally messing with you", "Silly you for believing me."

Well, I got a bit "Psyche!" from my doctor.

Flashback to previous post about follow-up mammogram. The previous ending was "and she left the hospital, to live happily ever after." Well my doctor called me up the following week and basically did a "psyche!" on me.

She said, "well you left before the doctor could talk to you further." Hmmm... the sonogram gal said something like, "you are free to go." Guess I misinterpreted that somehow.

Then she follows it up with, "there's some calcification that's just asymetric and we want to do a biopsy."

What I heard was "blah, blah, blah, BIOPSY". As in "cut" as in "remove stuff" as in "get me on the next bus outta town RIGHT NOW".

She must have smelled the fear (horses and doctors, I suppose), and she quickly said, "a NEEDLE biopsy. A small needle, like a sewing needle. We just need a small sample of tissue to analyze."

I'm still not feeling the love. Now I hear, "blah, blah, blah, NEEDLE IN YOUR BREAST." Can it get any better?

So I agree to call a surgeon. As luck (?) would have it, my husband had his appendix burst several years ago and we happen to know a good surgeon. This was one of the surgeons that my doctor mentioned as a referral. Ah! A small bit of coincidental good luck. I'll take it!

I saw the surgeon yesterday for a consult. I didn't hear anything new. I heard "BIOPSY" and "NEEDLE" and "TISSUE" all together and scary-like.

I wasn't really sure what questions to ask. Anestetic? Yep. Recovery time? Short. Pain? Minor. Scarring? 1/4" scar, nothing big.

Then he gave me a card with a website link with more information. As a good patient would do, I followed the link to the site and looked up details on the procedure.

And I tripped across this lovely illustration of what they are going to do:


Does this look suspiciously like a DRILL to anyone but me?!

Okay, so let's summarize. BIOPSY. CUT. TISSUE. BREAST. DRILL!!!!

(faint)

Goofy Food Fetishes

I get a lot of harrassment for things I eat. Or don't eat. Taking a page from Scooter's book (wherein he details all his food preferences), here's my food likes and dislikes:

"Normal" food that I don't like:

Tuna.
NOTE: I can't even be in the same room with someone eating tuna. Bleck!

Peanut Butter.
I just don't like it. Not even with jelly. I do, however, like Butter & Jelly sandwiches. Or just Jelly sandwiches. I will eat peanut butter if it's combined with chocolate, like Reese's Peanut Butter cups.

Potato Chips.
Just quit liking them one day. I prefer pretzels. Not fat-free pretzels, though.

Candy Bars.
Believe it or not, these are too sweet for me. I can't eat them anymore. I can down gallons of ice cream, slabs of cake and entire pies, but keep the candy bars, please. Especially ones with nuts. I've never liked Snickers. Ever. You might be able to tempt me with a Dark Chocolate Milky Way...

Popcorn.
I cannot stand getting the kernels stuck in my teeth, so I don't eat popcorn anymore. If only they could make kernel-free popcorn, I would come back around.

Food that I like to eat, but often in weird ways:

Burger.
I only like ketchup, but not on my burger please. When I dare to eat a cheeseburger, it's PLAIN. No ketchup, no mustard (yuk), no lettuce, no tomato, no pickle (UGH!). Meat, cheese, bun. Boring I know, but that's my preference.

Sandwich.
This used to go the same way as the burger. Meat, cheese, bread....Done. In the past few years I've ventured forth and added mayo. But again, no lettuce, no tomato, no mustard, nothing else, please. Especially not a nasty pickle to color my bread green and get nasty pickle flavor on my sandwich. Bleck.

Donuts.
Donuts are my downfall. I've considered "overdosing" on donuts - buying a dozen raspberry-fille Krispy Kremes (my all-time favorite donut), eating them all in one sitting and making myself sick. I've done this quite accidentally with a few things, and never wanted them again. There's a chocolate shake/wisdom tooth story incident that comes to mind...

Diet Coke.
If I drank water instead of Diet Coke, I would be healthy on a Herculean scale. I realize how nutritional useless Diet Coke is, yet I can't help myself. Arg.

Chili & Mashed Potatoes.
You take a bowl. You put a mound of mashed potatoes (no instant potatoes, please!) in the center. Then you put the chili on top. And cheese if you're feeling frisky. Then eat bite consists of some chili and some potatoes. It sounds weird, but I've converted lots of friends.

Corn & Mashed Potatoes.
Detecting a trend with the mashed potatoes? Same as above. Lump of potatoes, corn on top. This one I used to mix up all together and have for dinner with nothing else. Starch overdose, anyone?

I'm sure there's other items that I'm missing, but frankly, I've been eating strange combinations for so long that it's not until someone says something that I realize the oddity.

So, dear readers...what strange food fetishes do you have?

A Goofy Scare

As faithful readers know, I had my first mammogram two weeks ago. It was really no big deal, and after I was sufficiently poked and prodded, the technician told me should couldn't tell me any results (she sounded like she gets asked this question 800 times per day), but I would get a letter if everything looked fine. If there was anything suspect, I would get a phone call. "I'm rooting for the letter," I joked.

Well guess what. I got a phone call. The Phone Call. The "your recent mammography shows a finding that needs further evaluation" Phone Call. The "we've detected an asymmetry in your right breast and want to do more poking and prodding" Phone Call. Basically the Oh Shit Phone Call.

I played it off well, I think. "Is this normal?" I asked. The nurse gave me a seemingly scripted answer. "Well, with first mammograms we don't have a baseline. Many times we have women come back in for an additional look. And we did see an asymmetry."

Asymmetry. As in "One of these things is not like the other".

I got this call on Monday. They could not get me in for an additional look until Thursday. Much worrying ensued. Of course the inevitable thoughts creeped in. "What if I have cancer? What if I lose one breast? How do you buy clothes with only one breast? What about chemo? Would that be an option? Would they catch it in time? Would I die?"

So yeah, I went overboard with the worry thing, then decided I couldn't do anything until Thursday. Poking my right breast did not unearth any offending lumps, so I waited. And waited. And waited.

And Thursday finally came. And I was ready to face the mammogram again. I felt brave. I shed my clothes and donned the tiny baby blue Batman cape that serves as your coverall during the ordeal. The same technician was there, and she met me with the same jovial demeanor as before. She took some views. Only the right breast this time, and quite a bit more smooshing (probably not the technical term) this time. Okay, folks, this kind of mammogram does hurt, although not as bad as getting a cavity filled or anything.

Then I waited. Then they wanted to do a sonogram. Had they not seen what they expected? Was this good or bad? I started getting nervous now. I hate hospitals, and even though this was the outpatient territory, deep down I knew it was still the hospital, and that didn't help my nerves.

The sonogram was easy. Lay down. Try to stop racing heart. Get squirted with gel (actually warm gel...they have a warmer for the stuff!) and wait as the friendly technician glided the sonogram paddle thing (there I go again with the technical terms) in eighteen directions over me.

"You've got cysts," she said. My heart stopped.

I must have looked shocked because she continued.

"They're benign and very normal. See?" She pointed out several dark shadows in the maze of wavy lines on the screen.

"What causes them?" I blurted out.*

"Well, I've had that question so many times, that I've researched it. It could be blocked glands, you know, like a clogged drain gets backed up and it causes a lump. It's also thought to be hereditary," she said, "They could go away or they could just stay there. Either way they are normal and always benign."

I really liked her use of "always" here!

I couldn't think of any other questions, so she left to let me dress and get the hell out of there. It was strange having been there so long and then after this quick n' painless procedure, they just let me loose. I wasn't going to let them have second thoughts.

But as I waited, I thought of one more answer I needed to know. I don't know why, I just needed to know.

"How many are there?" I asked, as she came back in to see me off.

"Four" was the answer.

Well, there you go. A nice, even, symmetrical number.

*In hindsight, this is weird. My first thought should have been thankfullness, instead of curiousity. But my brain works like that sometimes...

Is it Wine Yet? Is it Wine Yet? Huh? HUH?

Man, I told you all I was impatient. I haven't pried open the bucket's lid to check progress, but I did do a lot of listening and poking tonight. You'd think I had a lot of spare time on my hands, huh?

Speaking of spare time*, I've been doing some reading (and listening) lately. Here's the scoop:

"Little Earthquakes" by Jennifer Weiner
Please, don't read this book. For all that is sane and proper in the world, just don't. This book is just wrong. It's depressing. It contains entirely too many stereotypes about pregnant women, mothers and women in general. It's just plain annoying. I couldn't finish it. I got through 3 of 4 CDs and found that I just didn't care what happened to any of the characters. So I said out loud, "...and they lived happily ever after" and returned it to the library. Ugh. Jennifer, After "Good In Bed" I expect better out of you!

"Birth of Venus" by Sarah Dunant
This is a book club book. I never, ever would have picked up this book if it hadn't been assigned to me for book club. And it's wino book club, so like, I gotta go or I don't get to drink. So I was forced to read the book. And...surprise! It's not bad. It's set in pre-Renaissance Italy, so the language is bit, er, flowerly. And this author really likes to describe things like gardens and peacocks in excrutiating detail, but the story line is interesting. It's about a clever and curious young girl (an unusual thing for this period) and her movement into womanhood, marriage, etc. There are some unusual twists and turns along the way, but there's a decent love story plot line, plus a nice sprinkle of feminism too. I also feel like I learned something historical from reading this book. Bonus!
Book Club NOTE: It made for some interesting book club conversation, but not nearly as much as "Tortilla Curtain" or "Life of Pi".

"On Bullshit" by Harry G. Frankfurt
I swear that Cagey was eager to read this book. I swear that she told me she had heard good things about it. Alas, Cagey disavows all knowledge of this, and rightfully so. I didn't make it past Track 5 on CD #1 before realizing that this was a serious book about bullshit. WTF? On the dust jacket, it was noted as a "satire". Can satire be un-funny? Well, this one was. Bo-ring. Just say no.

"Saving Fish From Drowning" by Amy Tan
I have enjoyed all of Amy Tan's books that I have read. My favorite (and first one) was "Bonesetter's Daughter". It was great. This book was nothing like that. The prologue explains how Tan got the idea for this book. It was intriguing. However, two discs into the books, I was wondering if she was ever going to get around to a little thing called a plot. You know, that thing that keeps your reader interested in the book. She missed me on this one, and I had to stop. Maybe I'll pick it up in the future and try again, but I just didn't "get it" this go 'round.

"Company: a novel" by Max Barry
After zooming through "Jennifer Government" by Barry, I tried his newest, "Company". It did not disappoint. Without giving too much away, this book is a cross between "The Firm" and "Office Space" (the movie). It's funny, thought-provoking, and you just might see a little bit of yourself or your co-workers in it. I enjoyed it.

So there it is, the good, the bad and the un-readable. What have YOU been reading lately?

* Behold my elegant segway. Gack.

Wine Making with Goofy Girl

Wine making is extremely simple. I mean, think about it....way back when, it happened accidentally. Some monk-dudes gathered some grapes for munching, and set them aside, meaning to get back and eat them or make them into preserves. They got busy praying and such and forgot them. The grapes were discovered a week later, moving, shaking and bubbling as wild yeast ate up the nutrients of the grapes and expelled gas.

Was it an act of God, or that other guy? The jury is still on this one, folks.

So after the bubbling stopped, one of the braver monks tried a sip. "Yum," he must have thought, and the rest is history. *

So back to me. Ahem. I manage to make the simplest things hard. Thus was the case with the wine making. I bought a kit, for crying out loud. A kit. Like "Do step 1", "Then do step 2", then "Idiot, do step 3. Why are you even still reading the instructions?" Each package was labeled with (you guessed it) "step 1", "step 2", etc.

I did manage to follow all the steps, in order. However, there was a slight (okay, large) delay between step 4 and 5. Step 4 was basically "Dump the juice into the giant 6 gallon bucket and stir". Step 5 was "Add the yeast". Doh! The yeast. The yeast that was supposed to be out of the fridge, sitting in a nice warm-but-not-hot place, eating the nutrients provided in the package and making the package swell to a plump "ready-to-use" size. This step takes about a day. Double-doh! So, as I said, there was a slight delay between these steps.

This delay was made worse by the stupid directions (I always fuck up when I read these...why do I continue?) that said "package should swell in about three hours". After four hours...the package was flat as a pancake. So I poked and prodded; shaked and shimmied. After which I figured I had killed any yeast even thinking about getting busy. I threw the package in the microwave overnight (I didn't turn it on...it's just a nice warm, breeze-free place) and went to bed. Then, like a kid on Christmas morn, I ran down this morning to check on my yeast package (boy, I need a vacation if this is exciting stuff, huh?). Flat.As.A.Pancake. Dammit!

I threw the package in the pantry and left for work. My expectations were low when I got home from work. But when I checked the pantry, presto! A nice, puffy package of yeast! Yippee! I quickly fed Goofy Junior and we went down to add the yeast to my science fair project.

Right before you add the yeast, you add oak chips to the wine. Goofy Junior looked a little concerned when I added playground droppings to my wine, but he was supportive. This means he didn't dump the bucket or put any foreign bodies into it. Good boy! I put the lid on my concoction and left the yeast to feast.

So now, I wait for 5-7 days before taking a peek. I'm not a patient person, so I will be amazed if I don't peek before then.


* Okay, so I totally made up this historically-inaccurate story and wine was most probably discovered way before monks, but I always associate early wine-making with monks. So shoot me.

Goofy's Week of New Experiences

This has been a week of new experiences for me.

New Office:
My new department moved to new offices on Monday. There were a few glitches, like the restrooms on our floor are not done, so for the next two weeks, we have to travel either up or down a floor to pee. Bonus exercise though if you take the stairs! Also, the heat on our floor did not work until late today. But the good news is that our entire department is together. Together in a recycled, 70s-decorated, restroomless, freezing location...but together nonetheless.

Mammogram:
Monday I had my very first mammogram. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Actually, it was less painful than just plan weird. It's kind of like putting your breasts, one at a time, into a vice. Then you have to stop breathing for a few seconds as the "vice" takes an x-ray. It was really more pinching-painful than the "oh my God you are flattening my breast"-painful that I was expecting. Then I got to watch an embarrasing video of breast self-exam.

Wine Making:
I took a Wine Making class last Saturday. It sounds so totally easy that I'm going to try it. Go figure...another project for me. My local "home brewing" store just got in some Limited Edition Petite Syrah/Zinfandel juice. Yum. And since it's already juice, there's no annoying grape picking, de-stemming, crushing, etc. Just pour it into a bit bucket, add some yeast, add some oak chips, close it up and wait! If everything works out like planned, I might have some wine in the works by this weekend. Then, in about six months, I will have 26 bottles of wine to drink. Be nice to me and maybe you'll get a bottle!

Poker Tournament:
Tonight I played in my very first bar Texas Hold 'Em tournament. Mr. Goofy & I have had a home game for a while, but this was the first time that I ventured out to play with real live strangers (versus dead ones?). My goal was to not be the first one knocked out at my table. I surpassed that goal my miles! I had so much fun and actually did pretty well. Of 7 tables of 8 people, I was still around when it got down to 3 tables. I lasted almost 2 hours!

In case you are curious, the hand that did me in was A-K unsuited. A new guy to our table (they start consolidating tables as players go out) went "all-in" before the flop. If you are not familiar, this means that, based on only two cards, he was betting his entire bankroll. My A-K was a very good pre-flop hand, so I called him. Turns out he had 7-7...a pair of 7s. But the flop was still coming. The flop is 3 more common cards. One of these cards was an Ace. I had a pair of Aces! Which beats a pair of 7s. But alas, the final card turned up (there are 5 common cards total) was a 7. The bastard had a set of 7s (3 of them). Which, of course, beats even a pair of Aces. There was disbelief all around the table as this guy took a LOT of my chips. I never really recovered after that, and finally went all-in on a pair of 9's (not a horrible bet) and got knocked out by a higher pair. As you can tell by how much I'm writing about this, I had a blast! The only downside was that I had to come home and take a long shower to get the horrible cigarette smell off me. My frigging socks smelled of smoke!

Whew! After all this excitement, I'm ready for a quiet weekend.

Brrreeeport

I am hereby a Lemming.

Brrreeeport.

Google it.

The Cost of Motherhood

Lately, I've been pondering the costs of motherhood. No not the costs of diapers, formula and Baby Einstein DVDs, but rather, the opportunity costs. The time costs. As in "What Have I Given Up for This Motherhood Gig?" No, I'm not regretting motherhood, just thinking back to that time before Goofy Junior came along and comparing how my time was spent then versus now.

And I've come up with a few things. Things that I either knowingly or unknowingly gave up. These fall into two categories: Things I Don't Miss and Things I Miss

Here they are, in no particular order...

Things I Don't Miss:
1) Watching TV
This is the biggie. I remember nights when I would come home, park myself in front of the TV with dinner and hubbie and stay there until bedtime. Upon reflection on this...JEEZ, what a huge waste of time! If I put my Mommy Time Management Hat (MTMH) on, I think of all the things I could have done with that time...walk the dogs, pay bills, do a load of laundry, read a book, listen to an audiotape, go to the gym, shop for shoes, play a computer game, blog...

2) Staying at Work Late
I can remember looking at my watch and thinking, "Hmmm...it's 5:45pm. Guess I better think about heading home". Holy Moley! I currently have to leave my desk no later than 5:00pm if I am to get on the road, miss the majority of traffic and get to daycare for pickup by 5:45pm or so. I don't do this to miss the late penalty (which is not until 6:30pm anyway), but rather because I miss the little cur. I am rushing to pick him up because I want to see him, not because I'm afraid to incur some additional cost. It sure gets my butt going though...

3) Sweet Snacks
I have a large sweet tooth. Okay, it's gigantic. But now, I have to be a Good Role Model and not eat brownies before dinner. And not carry Twix bars in my car. Toddler Eagle Eyes see everything with a shiny wrapper. I do still eat sweets, but I have to pick my moments and I don't do as much as I used to. This is not a bad thing.


Things I Miss:
1) Walks with Mr. Goofy
This sounds mundane, but we used to have wonderful talks while we walked around our neighborhood block with two dogs in tow. We would talk about work, vacations, dreams, pet peeves, etc. Often we would argue, but in retrospect, we were communicating, and that's always good, even if tempers get heated.

Now we have to either take Goofy Junior with us, which slows the walk down to a toddle and prohibits any meaningful conversation; or one of us has to go alone. Definitely not the same.

2) Eating Later than 7:00PM
Pre-Goofy Junior, I used to roll home about 6:45PM, feed the dogs, remove my work costume and put on comfortable clothes, check the mail, then discuss with Mr. Goofy what we would make for dinner (or where we would run to for takeout).

Now we have to plan for dinner to be eaten no later than 7:30PM, or Goofy Junior's stomach causes him to become this mad lunatic. And bedtime is at 8:00pm, so we want to give him time to digest. As a compromise, we occasionally make Junior dinner at 6:30 or so, then wait until after he goes to bed to grill steaks, bust out a bottle of wine and have a normal adult dinner. The downside of this is you are literally in the kitchen all night. Sometimes it's worth it though...

3) Large Blocks of Time for Reading
I remember once sitting down on a Sunday after lunch and reading an entire Harry Potter book. In one sitting. Ah!

Now I have to find smaller blocks of time to read. A half-hour before bed. In the car while Mr. Goofy is driving. During dinner (yes, it's not the best role modeling. oh well). A big savior has been audiobooks. It's a wonderful multi-tasking situation listen to a book while driving. And I have about an hour each day to do it. I love it!

So there are costs, and there are rewards too. As with most large life changes...

Damn Chick Lit!

I'm currently reading (scratch that...listening to) Jennifer Weiner's "Little Earthquakes". It is a "chick lit" book - a book written by a woman, for women, dealing with "women's issues"*. I suppose the name comes from the same folks that gave us "chick flick" - a movie in which no heterosexual man would be caught deal, unless he is wanting to get laid.

Anyway - I normally don't read this genre of book. I usually find the stereotypes annoying and the topics depressing. Guess what? This one is no different.

This book is about four women, each a mom, with a story about their motherhood. All depressing. One lost their child at 10 months; one's husband lost his job; one's husband is famous and never around; the other one has a meddling mother-in-law. Why must we make motherhood so depressing, folks? Why must the Mommy Guilt prevail? Please make it stop!

Anway - I came into work today and started snapping at co-workers. I was just plain mean! I realized that this meanness stemmed from being in a bad mood from this damn book!

Don't get me wrong, I don't only read Dave Barry books and live in a Pollyanna world where nothing bad every happens. I read books about serious topics, many of them sad, depressing, scary, angry. I read a wide variety of books. But this chick lit book disturbs me.

Then I started wondering why I keep listening to it. Why I don't just eject the CD, put it away and be done? The reason is...I keep hoping it gets better. I keep hoping that the husband gets another job, the missing husband comes back and gets involved; the mother-in-law tones it down. I guess the story wouldn't be as good without some obstacles to overcome, but jeez!

Anyway, I'm still listening...hoping that things get better for these folks. But I just might need some Dave Barry after this...

* I used quotes here because I believe that "women's issues" are men's issues too, and vice versa. Why the need to specify? But that's a rant for another time...

Mother's Little Helper

I just had lunch with a good friend today. She owns a small business that she has been growing, slowly, over the past five years or so. She's someone that I really think is brave, confident, positive and who can do no wrong.

Today she told me she's been seeing a therapist. No big deal, in my book. We all need to bounce our thoughts and emotions off someone else, to validate them. This is healthy. Actually I think she already told me this last time we went to lunch.

Then she told me, in hushed tones, that she had asked for some anti-depression drugs. This sort of shocked me, because this friend is one of the most upbeat, happy people I know. Well, I guess she is in public, at least.

I tried not to look as shocked as I was. It's really not that uncommon anymore, but it still shocks me when someone I know believes that they need drugs to solve their problems. What really bothered me next was when she told me that she finally asked her therapist for the meds when she had a day where she was so down that she didn't want to get out of bed. And didn't, until 1:00pm. She just didn't want to face anyone. My thought was, "Doesn't everyone have days like that?!" Isn't that what a Mental Health Day is for?

Then I had mixed feelings:

Was she looking for an easy solution to a normal problem? Or was this just a little help she needed to face her "down days"? Was there something wrong with me, that I'm not on mood elevation drugs?

In the past year or two, I've had no less than six (that's a 6!) friends tell me that they take some sort of drug to change their mood. I've also had a few friends that have turned to legal drugs (aka alcohol) to help them with their problems. My mindset has always been that if you can't handle your problems on your own (meaning without drugs or alcohol), you're just not trying hard enough*.

So I am just naive to think that most people don't need chemical help to get through the week? Has life gotten that complex and stressful that we all need to medicate ourselves to get out of bed in the morning? What about the message this sends to our kids? Even without the meds, is social pressure to be better, stronger, faster too much for our brains to handle?

Damn, this whole post depresses me. I think I'll go have a drink and take a nap.

*Yeah, I know this belief doesn't fit my personality. I don't know where it comes from. Freud would have a field day with me, that's for sure.