It's no secret that this family is made up of a bunch of "orch dorks". We have 2 violinists and 2 bass players. One of the best things I ever did is to encourage Claire to look outside classical and really have fun with her instrument. This led Irish fiddle and a totally rockin' band. I saw this group while flipping channels. I am not really into reality shows and actually have never seen this particular one but these guys jumped out at me from the tv.
Totally awesome! The young men are amazing.
9/25/08
Nuttin But Stringz Top 5 Performance
9/22/08
Fashion wars
I found a new contest! The Parent Bloggers Network Blog Blast - Mix 'n Match, Pop 'n Swap - where the Parent Bloggers are giving away a $250 Visa Gift Card and a Polly Pocket Mix'n Match Pop'n Swap just for writing about your kids' crazy wardrobe choices!
I have one girl and three boys. Boys, generally don't put much thought into wardrobe choices. Clean or dirty? Doesn't matter until puberty, when they will occasionally sniff a shirt before pulling it out of a pile and putting it on 5 minutes before the bus comes. I have a son who would wear the same pair of shorts EVERY day if I let him (and NO, it's not part of an official uniform).
Girls are another matter. When I was new to this parenting thing, I was much more controlling about wardrobe choices. One bigargument hissy fit my sweetie threw involved wearing a Christmas sweater in May. I remember it vividly. I was actually in tears telling my friend how huge an issue this had become, but dammit darn-it I was NOT going to give in! She wisely reminded me to pick my battles, and what was the worst thing that would happen?
At that moment I came up with a great idea. One that I unfortunately never followed through on. I was going to make a button that read "My child dressed herself today!" That way, I could save face. The outside world wouldn't think I was a bad mother for letting a child [gasp] wear Christmas clothes in the spring or mix plaid and flowers. She couldn't read so her self esteem remained intact. Great idea!
Button or not, that self esteem stuck. Fourteen years later she was willing to walk through the judgemental halls of high school dressed like this. Even if it was 80's day, it took some courage. I agree with my wise friend. Pick your battles, what is the worst thing that could happen? She might end up on project runway.
I have one girl and three boys. Boys, generally don't put much thought into wardrobe choices. Clean or dirty? Doesn't matter until puberty, when they will occasionally sniff a shirt before pulling it out of a pile and putting it on 5 minutes before the bus comes. I have a son who would wear the same pair of shorts EVERY day if I let him (and NO, it's not part of an official uniform).
Girls are another matter. When I was new to this parenting thing, I was much more controlling about wardrobe choices. One big
At that moment I came up with a great idea. One that I unfortunately never followed through on. I was going to make a button that read "My child dressed herself today!" That way, I could save face. The outside world wouldn't think I was a bad mother for letting a child [gasp] wear Christmas clothes in the spring or mix plaid and flowers. She couldn't read so her self esteem remained intact. Great idea!
Button or not, that self esteem stuck. Fourteen years later she was willing to walk through the judgemental halls of high school dressed like this. Even if it was 80's day, it took some courage. I agree with my wise friend. Pick your battles, what is the worst thing that could happen? She might end up on project runway.
MARTHA!
Guess what, Martha (yes, THE Martha) is having a contest for bloggers. How cool is that?
OK, don't laugh, I could be in her league. I know, my towels don't all match-- and some of them were wedding presents--20 years ago. My dog is not fluffy and clean, and well trained. My home is not totally color coordinated-- though I did paint the family room "Martha blue".
But my sisters sometimes call me "Kmartha" because I try so hard.
I AM crafty...
Go on over to Martha's blog and check it out. In perfect Martha fashion, she even includes instruction on how to start your own blog! I love Martha!
OK, don't laugh, I could be in her league. I know, my towels don't all match-- and some of them were wedding presents--20 years ago. My dog is not fluffy and clean, and well trained. My home is not totally color coordinated-- though I did paint the family room "Martha blue".
But my sisters sometimes call me "Kmartha" because I try so hard.
I AM crafty...
Go on over to Martha's blog and check it out. In perfect Martha fashion, she even includes instruction on how to start your own blog! I love Martha!
9/21/08
journal woes
So soon I will hit 100 posts. This means that I get to post 100 things about me. This is hard for me so I have already started working on it. I am not sure if I am doing it the "right" way, but who cares? I think it is funny.
My original reason for blogging was to prove that I could be as cool and smart as my sister Bridget. This then morphed into a mini-memoir. I think it was my friend Sarah who said she wanted to blog so her kids would know who she was when she was gone. That appealed to my inneranxious ever-ready self. So they (my kids) became my audience.
Successful bloggers find their niche and stay within those confines. I am not sure what niche I fall into. I guess I am a mommy blogger, though I am much more than that. I think.
What I do know is that I have decided that I really like to write.
I used to be in a Catholic book discussion group when my kids were in CCD. It was a great forum that challenged me to think when my brain seemed to leak out with the breast milk. One challenge our moderator gave us was to keep a journal-- and a faith journal. Oh, did I balk at that one. Even though I had faithfully kept diaries through most of my teen years, I was too afraid to write down what I actually thought. What if people read it? What would they think of me? Look at me now, essentially journaling to anyone who happens to Google "responsible one" or "last day of summer" (my most popular hit). Oh, how we change.
I still won't write down everything I think....thank GOD!
My original reason for blogging was to prove that I could be as cool and smart as my sister Bridget. This then morphed into a mini-memoir. I think it was my friend Sarah who said she wanted to blog so her kids would know who she was when she was gone. That appealed to my inner
Successful bloggers find their niche and stay within those confines. I am not sure what niche I fall into. I guess I am a mommy blogger, though I am much more than that. I think.
What I do know is that I have decided that I really like to write.
I used to be in a Catholic book discussion group when my kids were in CCD. It was a great forum that challenged me to think when my brain seemed to leak out with the breast milk. One challenge our moderator gave us was to keep a journal-- and a faith journal. Oh, did I balk at that one. Even though I had faithfully kept diaries through most of my teen years, I was too afraid to write down what I actually thought. What if people read it? What would they think of me? Look at me now, essentially journaling to anyone who happens to Google "responsible one" or "last day of summer" (my most popular hit). Oh, how we change.
I still won't write down everything I think....thank GOD!
9/18/08
seeds of faith
The other day I was talking with my friends Sara and Meghan. I was having one of those verbal diarrhea moments where you just talk and talk.... and I realized I had monopolized the entire conversation. Then, gasp, I realized I had wasted a perfectly good blogging topic by [horrors] TALKING to someone. So what did I do? Tell them frustratingly that I was going to have to blog about asparagus instead.
Pretty sad huh? Sad that I really wished I had blogged about it instead and sad that I don't feel like writing about it because I have already ranted about it.
Now, someone may be sitting at the edge of their seat...what could I possibly decide not to rant about anymore? Let's just say it involves a medical professional, an ER, the Knights Templar, James, early church "priestesses", an 800 PAGE manuscript about the problems with the Church...
Most importantly, Ryan received excellent treatment in the emergency room and a great opportunity to speak up for his faith when he pointed out that Paul was first Saul...I was proud.
In the end, the discussion was tabled and said professional ended thelecture conversation out of respect for Ryan's beliefs. (He and I may have gone on for hours.)
You never know when you might plant a seed. My prayer through the whole conversation was just "Jesus, let him hear me, let him forgive those who hurt him and help me keep my cool."
So, no, there is nothing special about asparagus.
And, Ryan is NOT suffering from a highly contagious disease! Yea! He is still suffering from that nasty curse called asthma. The worse thing? IF it had been Pertussis, the worst thing that would have happened is that he would have coughed until he threw up and/or turned blue, passed out and resumed breathing. Cough and turn blue and pass out with asthma? Don't always resume breathing. Shitty thing that asthma. Wonderful thing...drugs and really good respiratory therapists who listen to their patients. Thank God.
Pretty sad huh? Sad that I really wished I had blogged about it instead and sad that I don't feel like writing about it because I have already ranted about it.
Now, someone may be sitting at the edge of their seat...what could I possibly decide not to rant about anymore? Let's just say it involves a medical professional, an ER, the Knights Templar, James, early church "priestesses", an 800 PAGE manuscript about the problems with the Church...
Most importantly, Ryan received excellent treatment in the emergency room and a great opportunity to speak up for his faith when he pointed out that Paul was first Saul...I was proud.
In the end, the discussion was tabled and said professional ended the
You never know when you might plant a seed. My prayer through the whole conversation was just "Jesus, let him hear me, let him forgive those who hurt him and help me keep my cool."
So, no, there is nothing special about asparagus.
And, Ryan is NOT suffering from a highly contagious disease! Yea! He is still suffering from that nasty curse called asthma. The worse thing? IF it had been Pertussis, the worst thing that would have happened is that he would have coughed until he threw up and/or turned blue, passed out and resumed breathing. Cough and turn blue and pass out with asthma? Don't always resume breathing. Shitty thing that asthma. Wonderful thing...drugs and really good respiratory therapists who listen to their patients. Thank God.
9/15/08
9/11/08
What (cough) a (cough cough) day (cough) it is
My electric boy is not doing well.
What we thought was bad asthma looks like it may be whooping cough. Egad. Apparently it still exists despite immunizing. Poor thing, none of us has had a full night sleep in a week. We kept treating it as asthma with breathing treatments, puffers, inhaled steroids, you name it. Last night he woke up in a coughing fit panicking and trying to yell for me. I met him at the door of his room and he was blue -- his lips were blue, his fingernails, toes. He couldn't get enough air to do his rescue inhaler. Thank God we had the nebulizer.
Now usually I am the EMT parent, the calm one, the first responder. I can handle anything, stitches, asthma, sports injuries... but last night I freaked. I don't like blue children -- unless it's Verruca Salt and then it's her own fault for being blue. When I called the on call doc and described the week, the blueness, the panic (in Ry and me) he said it sounded like Pertussis. That's all the responsible one needed to hear at 1 am. Adrenaline let down and some Google-ing... let's just say it was a long night. Meanwhile poor Ry just keeps coughing away. We won't know for sure if it is Pertussis for another 48 hours. We can thank a nasty nasal swab for that info. Again, poor Ry. We are going to treat it like it is with mega antibiotics. So Ry will be spending the next few days eating lots of yogurt and coughing.
God bless the babies that suffer with this. I can't imagine.
What we thought was bad asthma looks like it may be whooping cough. Egad. Apparently it still exists despite immunizing. Poor thing, none of us has had a full night sleep in a week. We kept treating it as asthma with breathing treatments, puffers, inhaled steroids, you name it. Last night he woke up in a coughing fit panicking and trying to yell for me. I met him at the door of his room and he was blue -- his lips were blue, his fingernails, toes. He couldn't get enough air to do his rescue inhaler. Thank God we had the nebulizer.
Now usually I am the EMT parent, the calm one, the first responder. I can handle anything, stitches, asthma, sports injuries... but last night I freaked. I don't like blue children -- unless it's Verruca Salt and then it's her own fault for being blue. When I called the on call doc and described the week, the blueness, the panic (in Ry and me) he said it sounded like Pertussis. That's all the responsible one needed to hear at 1 am. Adrenaline let down and some Google-ing... let's just say it was a long night. Meanwhile poor Ry just keeps coughing away. We won't know for sure if it is Pertussis for another 48 hours. We can thank a nasty nasal swab for that info. Again, poor Ry. We are going to treat it like it is with mega antibiotics. So Ry will be spending the next few days eating lots of yogurt and coughing.
God bless the babies that suffer with this. I can't imagine.
9/10/08
A lazy, but funny post
I have been meaning to write, but nothing inspires me lately. So tonight I opted for the easy way out. Here is my favorite Colbert Report clip. Net Nanny alert--- bad word bleeped out at the end! This is inspired by my conversation with Claire today about her classes and intellectual discussions with friends... Thanks to her for this clip.
9/4/08
run like a gazelle
So I had this flashback to high school PE yesterday. Pretty thought huh? PE "back in the day" at my particular Catholic school was NOT co-ed. We girls had our own gym, locker rooms and teacher. Nary a boy to be found. This should have provided some freedom but really just created an estrogen whine-fest.
So, why did I flash back 25 (shit!) years? Actually, about 29 or 30 years, because this particular flashback went to 8th grade? Well, everyday we walk the track above the gym with our class. Getting some exercise-- walking and chatting a little with our friends. While we walk, the general-ed PE classes are down on the gym floor doing calisthenics -- actually FAKING them. Watching 30 or so high schoolers fake push-ups reminded me of one of the very few high self esteem moments I had in 8th grade.
Imagine if you will, "Alpha Teen". This chick was the bomb in 1979. She had perfectly flipped hair, was one half of the perfect couple, had CLEAR braces -- the only one with them in the school (remember Phoebe Cates on the cover of 17 Magazine in clear braces?), had a teen model contract, too many Pappagallo purse covers, and her parents owned a very popular chain of restaurants. Needless to say, she and I weren't even in the same orbit in high school.
But one day, Presidential Fitness Test Day, I felt like I was the one. Swimming had paid off! I sat and watched while Alpha Teen couldn't do ONE push-up. I can't really explain why this made me feel so good, it's kind of silly when I look back on it. But it did. For one small moment in the most awkward year of my life I felt strong and empowered.
Yesterday a co-worked paid me a compliment and told me I moved like an athlete. What had I been in a past life? Me? It was the best compliment I have gotten in a long time.
OK, YES, I was racing one of our students around the track and he may have been stimming and yelling while running -- making me look like a gazelle. But I'll take a compliment any way I can get one.
So, why did I flash back 25 (shit!) years? Actually, about 29 or 30 years, because this particular flashback went to 8th grade? Well, everyday we walk the track above the gym with our class. Getting some exercise-- walking and chatting a little with our friends. While we walk, the general-ed PE classes are down on the gym floor doing calisthenics -- actually FAKING them. Watching 30 or so high schoolers fake push-ups reminded me of one of the very few high self esteem moments I had in 8th grade.
Imagine if you will, "Alpha Teen". This chick was the bomb in 1979. She had perfectly flipped hair, was one half of the perfect couple, had CLEAR braces -- the only one with them in the school (remember Phoebe Cates on the cover of 17 Magazine in clear braces?), had a teen model contract, too many Pappagallo purse covers, and her parents owned a very popular chain of restaurants. Needless to say, she and I weren't even in the same orbit in high school.
But one day, Presidential Fitness Test Day, I felt like I was the one. Swimming had paid off! I sat and watched while Alpha Teen couldn't do ONE push-up. I can't really explain why this made me feel so good, it's kind of silly when I look back on it. But it did. For one small moment in the most awkward year of my life I felt strong and empowered.
Yesterday a co-worked paid me a compliment and told me I moved like an athlete. What had I been in a past life? Me? It was the best compliment I have gotten in a long time.
OK, YES, I was racing one of our students around the track and he may have been stimming and yelling while running -- making me look like a gazelle. But I'll take a compliment any way I can get one.
9/1/08
OK, how much can I take??
OK, for those of you who are lacking geography skills, here is the latest track for Hannah....guess where she is heading as of 11:30 tonight? Charleston, SC.
OK, so we have family here, the cousins are getting some great fun time getting to visit with "extended cousins" (i.e. your cousin's cousin). Many people came up from NOLA with the contents of their freezer in a cooler, and the families are eating well. This is stressful, but not too bad. Just keep that last bit of storm surge out of Lake Ponchartrain and baby, it's all good.
But my baby is in the path of a hurricane now, and she is 5 hours away from me. I know she is responsible (ahem...she is MINE) and she is quick thinking. She would NEVER have a hurricane party (and by that I mean those fruity red drinks) and laugh at the fraternity boys floating keg boats down fraternity row. She would never look at that college bathtub and decide she would rather die of thirst than drink anything coming from that cess pool. She will not know that you don't walk down the middle of a flooded street--in case the sewer cover has floated up and might suck you in. [OK that might be an urban myth but it kept us out of some NASTY flood water.]
How did my parents not completely freak out when we decided to stay and play when the university was canceled for hurricanes? Am I just a freak (DON'T answer that Robert)? Did my text message to Claire today to make sure her roomies all have full tanks of gas qualify me as a helicopter parent? What about my text about making sure she packs some food for the trip should she leave? [Well, someone I know actually evacuated a hurricane and suffered a 12 hour trip with a 4 foot stuffed animal and no snacks...so food is important.]
I KNOW Claire will be fine. I am sure could be a fun adventure, a bonding experience with her new friends. But I am not going to stop checking in-- it's how she knows I love her!
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