I try not to, truly I do, but once again I am patrolling the lists of waiting children, mentally plugging them into our family.
I am gingerly saying things to my husband like "how old a child do you think we could take?" and "I bet adding a fourth wouldn't be that much more expensive."
I am losing myself in all those pairs of brown eyes, most looking reproachfully at the camera.
Now, I am not stupid. I know darn good and well that a fourth child would blow our minds three ways from Sunday. I have vivid memories of how the third child did that; still does that, almost daily. But but but...
My eminently practical husband says things like, "you have to have an established income (from my shaky flow of freelance work, which is unpredictable at best), or I have to get a raise." This is actually a possibility, if he gets the promotion he applied for. But it's still only a 50-50 chance and he is pessimistic about it. He is, in fact, pessimistic about most things having to do with the kids and/or money. In fact, many of our arguments end with him saying something like "we're all going to die, homeless and alone" or whatever.
This time, though, it almost feels like we might be able to pull it off. If the money shows up. If the money doesn't just show up but decides to stay for a while. If no major disasters occur with the kids we already have. If...if...if.
Waiting for the hand of God in this one...that's the biggest if of all.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
Just How Bad is American Airlines?
Lemme tell you.
We were supposed to take off at 4:55 on the first leg of our trip to California for my grandmother's funeral. The plane was delayed. Fortunately, we were able to hop an earlier flight. This one was also delayed just enough that it got us into Dallas at the time we should have landed anyway had we taken the later flight (if the later flight had been on time).
What?
We are some kind of canny travellers, we congratulated ourselves. We will make our connection for sure now! But then the flight to Fresno was unaccountably delayed. For 2 hours.
Now, there's a 2 hour time difference anyway between the midwest and the west coast, so that meant instead of getting in at 11:30 midwest time, we would now be getting in at 1:30 a.m. midwest time. And so we did. After getting the car and finding the hotel and getting our clothes unpacked and hung so as to be all purty for the next day, it was 12:30 California time -- or 2:30 in the morning for us, if you're keeping up.
Funeral Day went without a hitch. We were buffed, fluffed and on time for everything. We reconnected with family, had some laughs, shed some tears. It was good, in spite of feeling a little jet-laggy.
To get home, we had to take a 6:15 a.m. flight. That meant getting up at 3:45 a.m. CA time, or 5:45 for us. Early, but doable. The flight took off ON TIME. It was the only part of our trip that would bear that distinction.
2.5 hours into the trip, the captain came on to tell us that Dallas was experiencing a hail/thunderstorm "event." We were in a holding pattern until they reopened the airport. Thirty minutes later, he came on again to tell us that we were too low on fuel to keep holding and were being rerouted to Oklahoma City to refuel.
It so happens that Oklahoma City wasn't quite ready for us. We landed, but then sat on the ground for 2 hours until we finally got fuel and were able to take off for the 1/2 hour flight to Dallas.
In Dallas, we had a slim hope of catching our connection, which was also delayed because of the storm. However, we had to change terminals and in Dallas, unless you are Ussein Bolt and can sprint around the airport, you are at the mercy of the shuttle trains. You go as fast as they go, and that's it. We arrived at our new gate as they shut the door to the plane.
If you don't travel much, you should know that once they shut the door, they do not open it again, not even if you're President Obama. Well, maybe for him. But certainly not for us.
Okay, Plan B: we got ourselves confirmed on the 2:40 flight, which was now leaving at 3:40. 2:40 was the time we were supposed to be arriving home. So, we'd be a little late.
At 3:40, we were still sitting at the gate.
At 4:00 we were still sitting at the gate.
At 4:30 the monitor changed to say that our new departure time would be 7:30 p.m.
At 4:31, one of us started crying and two of us laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. The fourth was in a funk.
Three hours later we finally got on a plane and made it home. We were on tenterhooks, just waiting for them to suddenly cancel our flight altogether. We were wound tighter than bedsprings until the plane actually took off.
We spent 14 hours either in an airport or on a plane that day. Many, many people were in similar situations. Several people told us they fly with AAL all the time and this was not an uncommon occurance. One man told us he'd been tracking his travel for the last year and out of 36 trips, only two legs of all those trips were on time. Other people told us similar stories.
Does anyone out there remember when it was fun to fly? When flying represented the height of adventure?
Now it's just a long, hard slog and it doesn't show any signs of improving.
We were supposed to take off at 4:55 on the first leg of our trip to California for my grandmother's funeral. The plane was delayed. Fortunately, we were able to hop an earlier flight. This one was also delayed just enough that it got us into Dallas at the time we should have landed anyway had we taken the later flight (if the later flight had been on time).
What?
We are some kind of canny travellers, we congratulated ourselves. We will make our connection for sure now! But then the flight to Fresno was unaccountably delayed. For 2 hours.
Now, there's a 2 hour time difference anyway between the midwest and the west coast, so that meant instead of getting in at 11:30 midwest time, we would now be getting in at 1:30 a.m. midwest time. And so we did. After getting the car and finding the hotel and getting our clothes unpacked and hung so as to be all purty for the next day, it was 12:30 California time -- or 2:30 in the morning for us, if you're keeping up.
Funeral Day went without a hitch. We were buffed, fluffed and on time for everything. We reconnected with family, had some laughs, shed some tears. It was good, in spite of feeling a little jet-laggy.
To get home, we had to take a 6:15 a.m. flight. That meant getting up at 3:45 a.m. CA time, or 5:45 for us. Early, but doable. The flight took off ON TIME. It was the only part of our trip that would bear that distinction.
2.5 hours into the trip, the captain came on to tell us that Dallas was experiencing a hail/thunderstorm "event." We were in a holding pattern until they reopened the airport. Thirty minutes later, he came on again to tell us that we were too low on fuel to keep holding and were being rerouted to Oklahoma City to refuel.
It so happens that Oklahoma City wasn't quite ready for us. We landed, but then sat on the ground for 2 hours until we finally got fuel and were able to take off for the 1/2 hour flight to Dallas.
In Dallas, we had a slim hope of catching our connection, which was also delayed because of the storm. However, we had to change terminals and in Dallas, unless you are Ussein Bolt and can sprint around the airport, you are at the mercy of the shuttle trains. You go as fast as they go, and that's it. We arrived at our new gate as they shut the door to the plane.
If you don't travel much, you should know that once they shut the door, they do not open it again, not even if you're President Obama. Well, maybe for him. But certainly not for us.
Okay, Plan B: we got ourselves confirmed on the 2:40 flight, which was now leaving at 3:40. 2:40 was the time we were supposed to be arriving home. So, we'd be a little late.
At 3:40, we were still sitting at the gate.
At 4:00 we were still sitting at the gate.
At 4:30 the monitor changed to say that our new departure time would be 7:30 p.m.
At 4:31, one of us started crying and two of us laughed at the utter ridiculousness of the situation. The fourth was in a funk.
Three hours later we finally got on a plane and made it home. We were on tenterhooks, just waiting for them to suddenly cancel our flight altogether. We were wound tighter than bedsprings until the plane actually took off.
We spent 14 hours either in an airport or on a plane that day. Many, many people were in similar situations. Several people told us they fly with AAL all the time and this was not an uncommon occurance. One man told us he'd been tracking his travel for the last year and out of 36 trips, only two legs of all those trips were on time. Other people told us similar stories.
Does anyone out there remember when it was fun to fly? When flying represented the height of adventure?
Now it's just a long, hard slog and it doesn't show any signs of improving.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
A Passing
My grandmother passed away last night. She was 90.
It's not like this was wholly unexpected, yet I find myself sad today. She was very much the grandma of my childhood -- she delighted in small children, in the funny things they said and did, in their emerging personalities. She was less comfortable with us when we grew up and had opinions of our own, particularly if those opinions didn't mesh with her own.
I have so many memories of her from when I was little. Trips to Disneyland, Knotts Berry Farm, Magic Mountain, the beach...she was forever taking us places like that, places kids love and seldom get to visit. She always kept excellent treats around like WonderBread, which we thought was manna from heaven, and store-bought cookies of the chocolately kind, and cheetos, which she knew we loved. She took us to movies and to play mini-golf. She rode the Ferris Wheel with us when she thought it might be too scary and came along with us when we drove Tin Lizzies -- the kind that were really just fancy golf carts on rails so kids could drive them and not get hurt.
She loved stories and she could remember all sorts of little incidents from our babyhood. She told us our own stories and laughed about them all over again. She was our number one fan -- nothing we did could ever be wrong and she'd knock down anyone who said it was. In fact, she couldn't bear any of us to be criticized and when we were older and did things that deserved criticism, she would still take the head off anyone who dared to do it, even someone in the family. Even us.
Her life was touched by sorrow. She'd lost a sister in a fire and a baby brother to illness. She lost all her older brothers to alcoholism. Her father died in his 50's of a heart attack. She married my grandfather in 1938 and got pregnant on her wedding night. She had her first child at the age of 19. By age 23 she had 3 children and her husband enlisted in the Marine Corps (he is still living. He's 93 and in the VA hospital, mind as clear as a bell). He was sent to the South Pacific and she moved next door to her mother to have some help with the kids. She lived to see one of her sons divorce 3 times, her daughter divorce once, and 4 of her eight grandchildren divorce 6 times. Just before her 80th birthday, in what would be the last lucid year of her life, her middle son died of liver cancer.
Parts of her life read like a scene from a movie. Her sister Clarice was married to an abusive husband, so she and my grandfather helped Clarice move out, and activity which ended with my grandpa beating up his brother-in-law and his brother-in-law's brothers. Seems like that should be played by Marlon Brando, trailing a cigarette from one curling lip.
Other parts read like a comic novel. When she gave birth to my dad in 1938, she was given the first episiotomy the hospital had ever done. Consequently, the entire surgical and obstetric staff came by to see her stitches. Mortifying for a 19 year-old Catholic girl. Another time, she tied my 3 year-old uncle to the clothesline outside to keep him from wandering away while she went to get another load of wash to hang. When she came back, his overalls were hanging from the line and he was wandering around downtown, naked as the day he was born.
She kept secrets, and I think this is what really shaped the second half of her life. Her middle son, my uncle, was a stinker as a child, but as an adult he dabbled in more than his fair share of shady enterprises, finally landing in prison for a while. That was something we were never allowed to speak of. Her daughter got pregnant and had to get married. Her middle son abandoned his first family. One of my cousins had a drinking problem. Another did drugs. Her daughter had an affair that ended her marriage. All very hush hush. I think the strain of keeping it all in and trying to keep straight what lie she'd told to whom to cover it all up made her touchy beyond belief. She liked to be the spider in the center of the web, but it was a role that was too much for her in the end.
She has been lost to me for the last 10 years, slipping into that hazy half-world that some older people inhabit. She hasn't recognized anyone in 5 years, hasn't been able to speak for 2. It's a release, I suppose. And yet, I would have her back, selfishly, because for all her frustrating ways, I knew without a doubt that she loved me.
I am spending today wrapped in my memories, dabbing at the odd tear, wishing I could see her just once more and tell her that without a doubt, I loved her too.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Mid-Week Musings
Every morning, I am treated to Dinosaur Train. I love Dinosaur Train -- it's the main reason my hair looks okay and I have a little color to my face. Without it, I'd be a lot messier.
But while I am watching it, I can't stop my mind from turning over a few issues that it raises for me. Like, what will the Pteranodon family do when Buddy grows up and eats them?
I mean, I'd be a little worried if I were them.I find it funny, the way the series soft-pedals the whole carnivore-thing. Buddy's favorite food is "carrion" with no clear explanation that carrion isn't just random meat lying around in the primeval forest like so much cafeteria fare. "Buddy, do you want the carrion or the jello salad?"
It's hard to make velociraptors cute and cuddly, but Dinosaur Train does it. However, I can't escape the layering of Jurassic Park images on top of the friendly little dinosaurs tripping off to the Dinosaur Train; there's always a little voice in my mind saying "Clever girl!" followed by a shrieking crescendo of death-wails.
Sometimes my thoughts go in a completely different direction. See Don, on the far right? My mom brain looks at him and says "Whoa, look at that underbite! That kid is going to need serious dental work, maybe some jaw surgery...wouldn't want the bill for that."
I'm just sayin'.
Other times I wonder why Don and Shiny don't get to ride the train as often as Buddy and Tiny do...I worry that their emotional health isn't really considered here.
I mean, you know...in cartoon land.
It's very weird in my head.Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Playset Redo
Really, I am just so proud of this re-do, I want to hug myself.
We really wanted to get a good, solid playset for our kids -- something like a Rainbow or a Backyard Adventures set with big, heavy timbers that wouldn't sag or rot easily. Of course, this type of playset is very expensive for even a base model ($1500 for a BA playset that had only monkeybars and swings; $1250 for a really basic Rainbow). We knew we needed a set with 3 swings and we were hoping to get monkey bars and a clubhouse of some sort. I scoured Craigslist for a month or more, looking for a used playset. We found several that were in good condition, but most were either too big for our yard or too expensive or both. A few were the right price and size, but we didn't act quickly enough and they were snapped up.
Finally, one day I found a Rainbow playset on Craigslist for just $700. I called immediately and left a message. Long story short, the sellers happened to live just 2 blocks from us, the set was exactly what we were looking for, was in excellent condition, and had been installed on a level yard (this is very important if you're buying a used set -- unlevel conditions mean they may have jerryrigged it to sit level and the whole set can end up warped).
Here it is when we first bought it and set it up in our yard:
The set was 6 years old, and Rainbow replaced -- for FREE -- the one board that had rotted out in that time AND the one beam that was damaged when the set was disassembled. Rainbow will do this for the original owners if they present the damaged boards and their original receipt. The sellers were more than happy to do this for us. For the record, you can still take your damaged bits in without a receipt and they'll replace them for a fee as well; still a pretty good deal to know you can always replace anything that rots or breaks with an exact match.
It needed a new stain job, so my husband power washed it (not technically difficult, but somewhat fussy as the playset has a lot of surfaces) and I stained it. I used Behr Premium Semi Transparent deck stain in Redwood Naturaltone, which is an EXACT match to the original finish on the Rainbow boards. I would probably not have chosen this color, but since we had two replacement boards that were already pre-stained, I thought it best to have everything match. When it has to be done again in 4-6 years, I'll choose a different color. I used a large deck staining pad and a little paint pad and an angled brush made for stain products. It took me about 3 hours to do the whole thing and yes, it was a pain in the you-know-what.
Here it is all beautified:
The board holding up the canopy right next to the slide was replaced, but with the new stain job, you can't really tell.
It makes me happy every time I look out my window.
I'm linking to A Soft Place to Land's DIY Day 'cause I did this MYSELF!
We really wanted to get a good, solid playset for our kids -- something like a Rainbow or a Backyard Adventures set with big, heavy timbers that wouldn't sag or rot easily. Of course, this type of playset is very expensive for even a base model ($1500 for a BA playset that had only monkeybars and swings; $1250 for a really basic Rainbow). We knew we needed a set with 3 swings and we were hoping to get monkey bars and a clubhouse of some sort. I scoured Craigslist for a month or more, looking for a used playset. We found several that were in good condition, but most were either too big for our yard or too expensive or both. A few were the right price and size, but we didn't act quickly enough and they were snapped up.
Finally, one day I found a Rainbow playset on Craigslist for just $700. I called immediately and left a message. Long story short, the sellers happened to live just 2 blocks from us, the set was exactly what we were looking for, was in excellent condition, and had been installed on a level yard (this is very important if you're buying a used set -- unlevel conditions mean they may have jerryrigged it to sit level and the whole set can end up warped).
Here it is when we first bought it and set it up in our yard:
The set was 6 years old, and Rainbow replaced -- for FREE -- the one board that had rotted out in that time AND the one beam that was damaged when the set was disassembled. Rainbow will do this for the original owners if they present the damaged boards and their original receipt. The sellers were more than happy to do this for us. For the record, you can still take your damaged bits in without a receipt and they'll replace them for a fee as well; still a pretty good deal to know you can always replace anything that rots or breaks with an exact match.
It needed a new stain job, so my husband power washed it (not technically difficult, but somewhat fussy as the playset has a lot of surfaces) and I stained it. I used Behr Premium Semi Transparent deck stain in Redwood Naturaltone, which is an EXACT match to the original finish on the Rainbow boards. I would probably not have chosen this color, but since we had two replacement boards that were already pre-stained, I thought it best to have everything match. When it has to be done again in 4-6 years, I'll choose a different color. I used a large deck staining pad and a little paint pad and an angled brush made for stain products. It took me about 3 hours to do the whole thing and yes, it was a pain in the you-know-what.
Here it is all beautified:
The board holding up the canopy right next to the slide was replaced, but with the new stain job, you can't really tell.
It makes me happy every time I look out my window.
I'm linking to A Soft Place to Land's DIY Day 'cause I did this MYSELF!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Fatal Attraction
Pottery Barn, Oh Pottery Barn!
Wherefore art thou so dang expensive?
My baby went to preschool today and I took advantage of my 2.25 hours of childfree time to wander through Pottery Barn. I asked a quick question about a sofa, which developed into a whole conversation, which ended with an estimate sheet detailing the exactly perfect sofa for our family room to replace the hideous mostrosity currently residing there.
Unfortunately, that estimate was for $1900. But I could have it by October 14th.....for $1900.
Not long ago, I saw some home guru on GMA or the Today Show talking about great style at affordable prices and the top pick for "affordable" was Pottery Barn. You know, with their $2000 sofas. Here's a funny thing -- the armchair that matches the sofa I am in love with costs $1100. In fact, the whole grouping I saw this morning would cost about $6000, not including throws, extra pillows and assorted tchochkes. For one room.
The heck of it is, they really do have great style. Their rooms look pulled together without being matchy-matchy. They look inviting and indeed, they are inviting. Just go to a Pottery Barn store and try to walk through it without touching anything. These places are full of beautiful colors and luscious textures that just beg you to run your hand over them. Sheepskin, chenille, pickstitching, organic cotton, sculpted metal, nubby baskets, seagrass....it's a feast for the senses. If they'd install a coffee bar, I'd probably move in.
So what, if you're trying to have great style but you have more like a Target income, are you supposed to do?
It's very, very depressing.
Wherefore art thou so dang expensive?
My baby went to preschool today and I took advantage of my 2.25 hours of childfree time to wander through Pottery Barn. I asked a quick question about a sofa, which developed into a whole conversation, which ended with an estimate sheet detailing the exactly perfect sofa for our family room to replace the hideous mostrosity currently residing there.
Unfortunately, that estimate was for $1900. But I could have it by October 14th.....for $1900.
Not long ago, I saw some home guru on GMA or the Today Show talking about great style at affordable prices and the top pick for "affordable" was Pottery Barn. You know, with their $2000 sofas. Here's a funny thing -- the armchair that matches the sofa I am in love with costs $1100. In fact, the whole grouping I saw this morning would cost about $6000, not including throws, extra pillows and assorted tchochkes. For one room.
The heck of it is, they really do have great style. Their rooms look pulled together without being matchy-matchy. They look inviting and indeed, they are inviting. Just go to a Pottery Barn store and try to walk through it without touching anything. These places are full of beautiful colors and luscious textures that just beg you to run your hand over them. Sheepskin, chenille, pickstitching, organic cotton, sculpted metal, nubby baskets, seagrass....it's a feast for the senses. If they'd install a coffee bar, I'd probably move in.
So what, if you're trying to have great style but you have more like a Target income, are you supposed to do?
It's very, very depressing.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Not Feeling the Love
September is here, the kiddies have been back at school for 3 weeks, Baby starts preschool on Wednesday and I am feeling frustrated.
It's hard to pin down why I feel like this. It was a huge relief to send the kids back to school. The last 2 weeks before it resumed were easily the worst 2 weeks of the summer. Constant fighting, constant attitude, constant mischief, and no desire to do anything constructive on anyone's part (me included, although I tried out of sheer desperation).
But naturally, the start of school brings with it the start of other activities -- soccer, gymnastics, church activities on wednesday nights--which have to be added to piano and our weekly trips to the allergist. If my hair was on fire all summer, I am spending my days shot out of a cannon now.
My littlest has hit some kind of personality wall -- I don't remember the 3s being so grouchy/stubborn/naughty in my other two. They are excruciating with her. My husband chirped in that perhaps she needed more activity -- I should take her to the park, the play place at the mall, a friend's house, a play class... I had to point out to him that I can only do the laundry when I am, in fact, here. Also, I cannot make dinner by remote control, although I would certainly like to try. While a constant round of activity sounds great, I do have to be in the house some of the time. We do go the the library and I take her on errands -- she recognizes Target, Home Depot, TJ Maxx and Barnes and Noble and loves all of them.
Normally not being able to complete projects makes me nutty, but we've actually gotten quite a lot done over the last month. I have some indoor projects that need doing -- first up is repainting my half-bath -- but while I would like to get those done, I don't feel a huge need to do so. I think one of the things nagging at me is the sheer volume of stuff we have in this house. I am going to hit some kind of breaking point soon where I just start chucking things in the trash or the Goodwill box and get it out of here. The garage is one place I'd like to just pitch stuff out of. After that it's the basement's turn.
Maybe what I need is a good Spring cleaning. Certainly a lot of things would seem less overwhelming if there were just less of them. Like toys. Of which we have 40 million or so.
Too much stuff. Hmmm. Am going to let this idea percolate and see if that's my trouble.
It's hard to pin down why I feel like this. It was a huge relief to send the kids back to school. The last 2 weeks before it resumed were easily the worst 2 weeks of the summer. Constant fighting, constant attitude, constant mischief, and no desire to do anything constructive on anyone's part (me included, although I tried out of sheer desperation).
But naturally, the start of school brings with it the start of other activities -- soccer, gymnastics, church activities on wednesday nights--which have to be added to piano and our weekly trips to the allergist. If my hair was on fire all summer, I am spending my days shot out of a cannon now.
My littlest has hit some kind of personality wall -- I don't remember the 3s being so grouchy/stubborn/naughty in my other two. They are excruciating with her. My husband chirped in that perhaps she needed more activity -- I should take her to the park, the play place at the mall, a friend's house, a play class... I had to point out to him that I can only do the laundry when I am, in fact, here. Also, I cannot make dinner by remote control, although I would certainly like to try. While a constant round of activity sounds great, I do have to be in the house some of the time. We do go the the library and I take her on errands -- she recognizes Target, Home Depot, TJ Maxx and Barnes and Noble and loves all of them.
Normally not being able to complete projects makes me nutty, but we've actually gotten quite a lot done over the last month. I have some indoor projects that need doing -- first up is repainting my half-bath -- but while I would like to get those done, I don't feel a huge need to do so. I think one of the things nagging at me is the sheer volume of stuff we have in this house. I am going to hit some kind of breaking point soon where I just start chucking things in the trash or the Goodwill box and get it out of here. The garage is one place I'd like to just pitch stuff out of. After that it's the basement's turn.
Maybe what I need is a good Spring cleaning. Certainly a lot of things would seem less overwhelming if there were just less of them. Like toys. Of which we have 40 million or so.
Too much stuff. Hmmm. Am going to let this idea percolate and see if that's my trouble.
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