Yesterday Peter's school had an international festival. A good time was had by all. There was food and games from all over the world and then a nice talk was delivered by Melissa about a book called Nurture Shock. A very informative book and one I shall add to my "things to know before we have kids" list.
After our long day Peter and I decided we would make some dinner together. So we took an excursion to the far away but quite large grocery store Tony's Finer Foods. Some of you may shop there and may I just say what a fine comestible selection they have. However, we were having decisions issues and ended up leaving with a frozen pizza 6 very large Jalapenos and two blocks of cheese.
A long cold walk home we had. And then discussed the different strategic ways to hold together a jalapeno filled with cheese. So last night for dinner we made homemade jalapeno poppers, frozen pizza and had champagne. A dinner fit for kings!
The fried jalapenos were unfortunately not very good, albeit edible, but not delicious. Though through this endeavor we learned how to make them better the next time. Much like the way the students at Peter's school learn through trial and error. This intrinsic motivation to do and make and create things oneself is particularly satisfying. I wasn't upset that my jalapeno poppers didn't taste good I was excited that next time I make them they will be 10 times better because I saw and experienced what mistakes I made. And having dinner with a perfect husband is not half bad either.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Dino Delimma
Top heavy T-Rex tumbles time and time again.
The ledge is small his head is large.
He does not want to perch so precariously.
LET ME DOWN!
His plastic body screams and he heaves himself over the edge once more.
His fellow fiendish foes squat on the bracket in quadrupedal bliss.
Tape! My friend you shall never be free.
The ledge is small his head is large.
He does not want to perch so precariously.
LET ME DOWN!
His plastic body screams and he heaves himself over the edge once more.
His fellow fiendish foes squat on the bracket in quadrupedal bliss.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Bird Brain
Everyday on my way to and from work I pass a small supermarket called Aldi. For those not in the know Aldi is a grocery chain here in the Land of Lincoln that provides very little variety. I have never been in one because, like all good Americans, I feel like more is better and better is good.
In my daily commutes when I pass the Aldi on Milwaukee I hear a shreiking like nothing I have ever experienced before. It sounds like a pterodactyl the size of chihuahua or a mix between a monkey and a crow. I'm sure it's a bird but not one I would ever want to come in contact with. I am surprised that the managers of this Aldi have not done something to get rid of the awful sounding feathered creature and then I remember the dive bombing bird.
Years ago I had a job in Rosemont IL (the last stop on the Blueline before O'Hare) and I did an atrocious backwards commute outside of the city an hour each way. It turned my 8 hour work day into a 10 and sometimes 11 hour day. The only good thing about commuting on the train is that you do have that time to do whatever you want. Listen to music, read a book, call your mom whereas if one is driving these activities would not be possible. I don't know about you guys but conversations with my mom require my undivided attention! :) After my hour long locomotive "me" time I would walk about a quarter mile under an over pass and around a wall of trees to a small collection of tall office buildings. The job was sufficient, although not very exciting, but I enjoyed my co-workers.
On my third day of work I was leaving in the late afternoon and as I walked by that large wall of pines something scratched me on the top of my head. I was startled, as most people are when something hits you in the head, but I was certain it was a pine cone and continued moving. A few steps later it came again and harder this time. More than startled this time I ducked, and looking up I caught a glimpse of a small robin-looking bird flitting back in between some branches. She must be protecting her nest, I thought, and made my way home.
The next few weeks the attacks became harsher and more disruptive to my routine. Eventually I was forced to run at top speed by the wall of trees flailing my arms over head. The day I had finally had enough the enraged fowl actually drew blood from my scalp. I called the building manager the minute I entered the office that morning. Dabbing at my head wound with a paper towel I firmly explained that something had to be done about this bird. Laboriously and with a hint of disdain the building manager informed me that the bird was endangered and no matter how many people complained (and I wasn't the first) there was nothing he could do about it. So I started carrying an umbrella and would be fine for a few days until this feathered beast was able to rip a hole in the material. I went through a lot of umbrellas during that time.
I ended up leaving that job, not because of the bird, but now it seems I have a new aviatric nemesis. Perhaps tomorrow I will seek her out and find out why she shrieks so horribly.
In my daily commutes when I pass the Aldi on Milwaukee I hear a shreiking like nothing I have ever experienced before. It sounds like a pterodactyl the size of chihuahua or a mix between a monkey and a crow. I'm sure it's a bird but not one I would ever want to come in contact with. I am surprised that the managers of this Aldi have not done something to get rid of the awful sounding feathered creature and then I remember the dive bombing bird.
Years ago I had a job in Rosemont IL (the last stop on the Blueline before O'Hare) and I did an atrocious backwards commute outside of the city an hour each way. It turned my 8 hour work day into a 10 and sometimes 11 hour day. The only good thing about commuting on the train is that you do have that time to do whatever you want. Listen to music, read a book, call your mom whereas if one is driving these activities would not be possible. I don't know about you guys but conversations with my mom require my undivided attention! :) After my hour long locomotive "me" time I would walk about a quarter mile under an over pass and around a wall of trees to a small collection of tall office buildings. The job was sufficient, although not very exciting, but I enjoyed my co-workers.
On my third day of work I was leaving in the late afternoon and as I walked by that large wall of pines something scratched me on the top of my head. I was startled, as most people are when something hits you in the head, but I was certain it was a pine cone and continued moving. A few steps later it came again and harder this time. More than startled this time I ducked, and looking up I caught a glimpse of a small robin-looking bird flitting back in between some branches. She must be protecting her nest, I thought, and made my way home.
The next few weeks the attacks became harsher and more disruptive to my routine. Eventually I was forced to run at top speed by the wall of trees flailing my arms over head. The day I had finally had enough the enraged fowl actually drew blood from my scalp. I called the building manager the minute I entered the office that morning. Dabbing at my head wound with a paper towel I firmly explained that something had to be done about this bird. Laboriously and with a hint of disdain the building manager informed me that the bird was endangered and no matter how many people complained (and I wasn't the first) there was nothing he could do about it. So I started carrying an umbrella and would be fine for a few days until this feathered beast was able to rip a hole in the material. I went through a lot of umbrellas during that time.
I ended up leaving that job, not because of the bird, but now it seems I have a new aviatric nemesis. Perhaps tomorrow I will seek her out and find out why she shrieks so horribly.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Dinner Approximations
Children are fascinating. I have decided this. This evening Peter (my husband) and I had a delightful dinner with our friends Tad and Leah and their daughter Brigid. Brigid is one of Peter's students. She's loud and charismatic just the way I like my 6 year olds to be. The reason for my revelation is that she (unlike most 6 year olds) can hold an entire conversation and talk about things other than herself. It's quite impressive and enjoyable to be with her.
Throughout our dinner and the drive home many subjects were discussed but a recurring theme was child rearing. As many of you know Peter and I were married at the beginning of December. We have had many conferences regarding how we feel we might like to raise our children but I feel like the most important idea we have ever had was being flexible. All through our evening I watched the interactions between Brigid and her parents and the one thing that shown through like a beacon of fluorescent parenting wisdom was that flexibility is not only important but crucial for sustaining a happy family dynamic.
Picking your battles, as people like to say, is the first rule of flexibility. So your child wants an extra piece of chocolate. Maybe it's not such a good idea so close to bedtime but is it better to have your guests witness a fit or have part of the evening ruin over one morsel of sweetness. Elasticity comes in many forms and fashions and I think being a great parent is a lot like being a rubber band.
Throughout our dinner and the drive home many subjects were discussed but a recurring theme was child rearing. As many of you know Peter and I were married at the beginning of December. We have had many conferences regarding how we feel we might like to raise our children but I feel like the most important idea we have ever had was being flexible. All through our evening I watched the interactions between Brigid and her parents and the one thing that shown through like a beacon of fluorescent parenting wisdom was that flexibility is not only important but crucial for sustaining a happy family dynamic.
Picking your battles, as people like to say, is the first rule of flexibility. So your child wants an extra piece of chocolate. Maybe it's not such a good idea so close to bedtime but is it better to have your guests witness a fit or have part of the evening ruin over one morsel of sweetness. Elasticity comes in many forms and fashions and I think being a great parent is a lot like being a rubber band.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Where's my flying car already...
It is 2012, and high time that I embrace the technology that is available to me. This is the first of many musings I will subject all of my friends and family to.
For years now I have been told by said friends and family and sometimes strangers that I should start a blog. My argument, however flimsy it may seem to all you technophiles out there, is that I find something nostalgic and romantic in the printed word. I am sure you have all see that kindle commercial where the girl is waxing on about the weight and feel of a book in opposition to the kindle. "But you don't get the rewarding feeling of actually folding down the page." is a tactile requirement for me. Though I can see the benefits of a light weight, extremely portable device that I can read "on the go" as opposed to hefting around Tolstoy in my napsack all day. (HA HA but let's be serious, no one has ever really read ALL of War and Peace *wink)
The dawning, or I guess I missed most of that, mid-day of this technological boom has been something to behold indeed. I just recently swapped out my original cell phone that I received in 2004 when I started my cellular subscription for a smart phone. It does everything but my dishes. Soon the day will come when my generation's children have holographic screens projected from there smart phones that are implanted in one's forearm at birth for easy access. This is the technology I fear and probably the more stout reason for my aversion to starting a blog.
However; I thoroughly enjoy my dad's blog entries, and am quite miffed on days when he has not written anything. It is through this experience that I have come to accept, and somewhat enjoy, this informational overload we call the interwebs. (Although I'm sure no one talks like that anymore)
On a side note; as it is now 2012, I feel we are more than past due for our flying automobiles. I urge all of you to write your congressmen demanding to know where we stand on the latest aviatric hatchback technology. Forget foreign policy and let's all focus on what we really want...A flying car.
For years now I have been told by said friends and family and sometimes strangers that I should start a blog. My argument, however flimsy it may seem to all you technophiles out there, is that I find something nostalgic and romantic in the printed word. I am sure you have all see that kindle commercial where the girl is waxing on about the weight and feel of a book in opposition to the kindle. "But you don't get the rewarding feeling of actually folding down the page." is a tactile requirement for me. Though I can see the benefits of a light weight, extremely portable device that I can read "on the go" as opposed to hefting around Tolstoy in my napsack all day. (HA HA but let's be serious, no one has ever really read ALL of War and Peace *wink)
The dawning, or I guess I missed most of that, mid-day of this technological boom has been something to behold indeed. I just recently swapped out my original cell phone that I received in 2004 when I started my cellular subscription for a smart phone. It does everything but my dishes. Soon the day will come when my generation's children have holographic screens projected from there smart phones that are implanted in one's forearm at birth for easy access. This is the technology I fear and probably the more stout reason for my aversion to starting a blog.
However; I thoroughly enjoy my dad's blog entries, and am quite miffed on days when he has not written anything. It is through this experience that I have come to accept, and somewhat enjoy, this informational overload we call the interwebs. (Although I'm sure no one talks like that anymore)
On a side note; as it is now 2012, I feel we are more than past due for our flying automobiles. I urge all of you to write your congressmen demanding to know where we stand on the latest aviatric hatchback technology. Forget foreign policy and let's all focus on what we really want...A flying car.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)