11.12.09
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Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

4: 59 am: After an hour of tossing and turning on the bed, Mary decides it is time to get up.

5:01 am: Check email. Nothing from Bill. Haven’t heard from him in over 32 hours. His last email said something like: “I’m off on a trip. I’ll call when I can. I love you immensely and if this should be the last email you ever get from me, know in your heart that I will always be watching out for you and our precious children.” Or something like that.

5:03 am Put on Pingu for Mary to watch. Brew coffee. Say morning prayers. Read headlines off my iTouch. World has not come to an end while I slept.

5:28 am No email.

5:37 am No email.

5:51 am No email.

6:11 am No email. Get dressed. Lace shoes.

6:19 am Put on Dora DVD for Mary. Consider that she watches too much TV. Conclude that pediatricians who establish such guidelines do not have toddlers who wake up before dawn.

6:22 am Get on treadmill. Ponder whether I should call my mother first with any terrible news and then have her call my sister or if I should call my sister and then have her call my mother. Decide that I would be crying too hard to make any phone calls.

7:10 am The boys are awake, and I tell the girls to get up. Open front blinds. Look outside and check for strange cars with uniformed people inside waiting for signs of life so they can come knocking on my door to deliver bad news. See none.

7: 12 am No email.

7:29 am My watch alarm goes off. “Dad’s thinking about us,” announces Billy for the benefit of those in the next room. I smile, knowing that Bill’s watch alarm is also going off. I wonder, if he were dead, if anybody else would hear the alarm and know what it meant.

“Dad should be calling any minute now,” says Billy.

“No, honey, Dad is traveling. He doesn’t have access to his computer. He’s not going to call this morning.”

7:31 am My Skype ringer goes off. I guess he’s back. And not dead. I answer. I see his face. I smile.

I tell him about looking for a waiting car outside. He smiles and nicely tells me that I’m silly. And that I’m spoiled by daily communication. I agree. I am spoiled. Seeing my husband on the computer or getting emails from him every day is a luxury.

I wish my favorite soldier a happy Veteran’s Day. I suggest he take the rest of the day off to celebrate. Alas, a day off is also a luxury. He can take a day off in January.

Tonight, I tried to do my usual Wednesday night grocery run to the commissary. They closed early due to the holiday. I had long forgotten it was Veteran’s Day. By this evening, it was just Day 134 without my husband.

11.08.09
by

My Parrot

“DOG-nacious!” exclaims the four year old.

“Dognacious?” I repeat, inquiringly. I look over at the boy, down on his hands and knees, sweeping the leaves into the dust bin, his afternoon chore.

Dognacious? From the root dogno meaning I walk on four legs?

“Oh! PUG-nacious,” he corrects himself.

DOG – PUG. I get it. He’s just repeating his older siblings’ vocabulary words. No big deal. I’m sure there are many preschoolers who randomly exclaim words like pugnacious all the time.

One day this child will write things, and I will need a dictionary to read them.

11.06.09
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Because having only one kid with me IS a break

I hired a girl to come over once a week to watch the kids so I can get out. She came last week. And she came this past Wednesday.

Last week was fine. This Wednesday, Peter decided he wanted to come with me. I was less than enthusiastic about having his company, but I know very well the determined look that was on his face. Fighting him was not going to help the situation. I tried a different tactic.

“You don’t want to come with me, Petey. I’m going to church.”

“I want to go to church with you, Mommy.” Ah, such sweet devotion. He would walk through fire, or sit quietly in church, for me.

“I’m running errands, Pete. You don’t like to run errands.”

“I want to run errands with you, Mommy,” he insisted in a tone that betrayed his suspicion that I was on the verge of saying no.

Instead, I relented, and welcomed him. Really, a four year old is not as difficult as a two year old, especially if he has my exclusive attention. Besides, if I happily took with with me, perhaps he could see just how boring Mommy’s errands were and decide staying home building houses from leaves with his siblings was an infinitely better way to spend the afternoon.

And so we went. First, to the library where we looked only at grownups books since we had gone the day before for kids’ books. And then to the dry cleaners, a place devoid of entertainment. Then briefly into a tent in the parking lot that advertised furniture. Nothing interesting there. Then to the PX.

First, we explored the hair product aisle in search of some magic potion that would render his sisters’ tangled messes comb-able. And we looked at hairbrushes, since they constantly misplace theirs. Then we looked at lipstick. As I stared at the seemingly endless ocean of color choices, Peter kept busy a few feet away. When I looked over, I realized he was neatening the display. Instead of tubes of lipstick arranged in apparently random order, he had tidied it up and placed all the lipstick to the far left filling each slot before moving to the next column.

We put them back.

I did let him pick some chocolate in the checkout line, provided he share with me. He picked Lindt milk chocolates. Excellent taste.

Then off to a friend’s house to return some things. This was the only fun part, and I tried to keep it as brief as possible.

Then to Bed, Bath & Beyond for miscellaneous items, including my own stocking stuffers, which Bill will not be home in time to do. Buying one’s own stocking stuffers has certain advantages. I’m pretty sure I’ll like what I got.

Finally, off to church for as long as he could bear. OK, as long as I could bear.

Last night at dinner, I cheerfully asked him if we had had fun. He agreed. “And you’re coming with me next week, too…right?” I said with enthusiasm.

“No!” he stated, emphatically.

“Aw, come on. It was great. You have to come with me,” I insisted.

“No!” he said again.

Success! I thought triumphantly. And then Jenny spoke up.

“I’ll go with you,” she offered. Uhhh….

“We’ll go to church…” I warned.

11.01.09
by

Only in America…

…does poverty make you fat.

Wallets Thin, Waistlines Expand in Recession

No excuses, people. Smaller portions ALWAYS save money. You don’t have to buy organic to be healthy. Frozen vegetables are not very expensive. Beans have lots of nutrients and are really cheap.

Put down the halloween candy and pick up an apple. They are in season and inexpensive.

No matter how cheap McDonald’s is, the grocery store is cheaper. The economy does not make you fat. Your lifestyle makes you fat. Period.

11.01.09
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Happy Halloween

To Bill, who loves Halloween much more than I, and who loves details, and who loves homemade costumes, and who is not here to enjoy the fun.

This is my usual Halloween photo. Here are the kids. Aren’t they cute?

But I knew my husband would love more pictures, more details. Here you go, hon.

Fritz was Zorro. Most of the kids we saw tonight had no clue who Zorro was. The grownups thought he was cool. And he is his father’s child. “No, Mom, Zorro’s cape has openings for his arms.” Would not be happy with anything else.
His sabre. Love the extreme weather fencing gloves. By L. L. Bean. Never know when you’ll have to fight in a snowstorm.
Yes, the hat is too big. It was my first hat. Hopefully it is my last hat. I hope to only supervise any future hat construction projects. Peter’s hat (which I supervised, mostly) was much better, but then he changed his mind about being Zorro.
Billy was Obi Wan. Of course.

Shhh. He’s concentrating.

A HUGE thank you to Charlotte for posting the directions to do a Jedi Robe (also useful for many many other costumes).

The other pictures were taken before dinner. This is what he looked like with his “beard and moustache.” Thanks to my husband for the burnt cork suggestion.

Peter changed his mind repeatedly about what to be and finally settled on police officer.

Everybody thought he was adorable. He is.

Your well dressed policeman is sporting fashionable cowboy boots this season. Very “in.”

And blue neckties. And orange flashlights. Fritz made the badge. Isn’t that sweet of him to step up and help his brother? He also made him a cardboard gun, but Peter didn’t want it. I told everybody he was a Britsh cop.

My girls decided to be a choir of angels. They also decided to do their own wings and halos. (Un)fortunately(?), Dad wasn’t here to “fix” anything. Mom was more than happy to let them do it (less work for me).
Katie’s halo. Also note the blue electrical tape used to hold the string to her wings on. Classy.
Katie’s wings.
Jenny’s halo. Katie helped Jenny with her costume. Isn’t team work wonderful?

I stapled the 1/2″ elastic to the cardboard. That was my part.

Jenny’s wings.

Sweet Mary who likes to have her picture taken, but is not a natural poser.

I knew she would never tolerate wearing wings, so I stitched on some pretty gold scrap fabric that I had.

They forecast rain, but it mostly held off until after 7 pm. We had just enough time to fill the treat bags before it started coming down. And I didn’t mind that the kids would be up late (between the sugar and the excitement) since the clocks move back tonight. Wonder what hour my early bird will get up tomorrow?
10.31.09
by

First Class Relics Available

Peter has changed his mind – again – about what to be for Halloween.

First, Batman.

Then, Zorro, then Count Dooku. His Count Dooku was pretty good.

Last night, he decided to be a police officer. Fritz has been hard at work trying to accommodate him, but I keep telling him to hold off. Once Peter gets dressed up, he’s happy for a few hours. Then he changes his mind. Let’s not get him dressed until it’s time, right?

The only thing about which he has been consistent is what to be for the All Saint’s Day Party tomorrow.

St. Peter, of course.

Naturally, no costume is necessary. He’s fine, just the way he is.

10.31.09
by

The Plot Thickens

It doesn’t matter who is in power, I have a deep-rooted distrust of the government. It’s a good thing.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t think it’s good for anything. I mean, my husband works for the federal government. Governments, big and small, have some usefulness.

But we need to keep an eye on them. Whose best interest do they really protect? Ultimately, their own. And the bigger they are, the worse the self-protectionism gets. So we just need to watch them.

So, let’s look at the H1N1 virus and the vaccine that is in short supply. This article, and others, have been highlighting how there isn’t enough vaccine available to meet demand and that those who are not in a high-risk group are getting it. Selfish people, huh?

So who is most at risk? According to this site:

  • pregnant women
  • those who come in regular contact with anyone under the age of 6 months (from family members to day care workers)
  • those in health care
  • those between the ages of 6 months and 24 years
  • people between the ages of 24 and 64 who have certain medical conditions

Fair enough. I have no argument with that list. If you fall in one of those categories, go get the vaccine, if you can get it.

However, it is very interesting to note that according to that site, those groups make up approximately 159 million people.

I checked this database with 2000 census figures, and people 24 years and younger are about 81 million. So 78 million people are in one of the other categories. Seems a bit high, but I won’t even argue that. Fine 159 million people should get the H1N1 vaccine.

But now I go back to the first article cited, (forgive me for reading a Fox News article. I realize it is opinion journalism, but I did find a second source for the number they used…or is the Wall Street Journal also opinion journalism?). And what started me on this whole rabbit chase was this line:

Because the U.S. has only received about 24 million of the 250 million vaccine doses it ordered…

OK. So, we ordered a little extra. 91 million extra. In the U.S., they say that those under 10 should have 2 doses. That’s 39 million people (assuming every single person in that age group got the vaccine). We’re down to 52 million extra doses. Over 30% extra.

Two things:

#1 And we want the government running a health care system? They won’t waste money?

#2 It is not in the government’s best interest to lose money on this deal. It is in the government’s best interest to have every single H1N1 dose used up. And paid for (mainly with private insurance).

So, who do they expect will use up those 52 million surplus vaccines? Are they hoarding them with the intent to resell them at a higher price to another country? Do they intend to frighten the daylights out of everybody in order to create panic and high demand for the vaccine?

If anybody can enlighten me as to why we would order so many extra doses, please do so. For now, I think we just need to pay close attention to what happens if the rest of the order comes in and demand drops.