Bronwen has started to write her own songs. As you might expect, this utterly delights me. Every song she makes up fill me with dreams up future stardom, or at least dreams of her life being filled with music.
Dan gave me a mandolin for my birthday. I have always wanted to learn to play the mandolin. But it is also the perfect size for Bronwen to play.
The night I opened my present, she sat with it for half an hour playing and making up songs. The best song was the one that described everything I was doing as she was singing. It went something like:
“Mommy is cleaning up. She is picking up my shoes.
Mommy is throwing away the trash. There is a lot of trash.
Mommy wants to give me my juice…” (At which point I did indeed give her the juice.)
This kid is hilarious, and an absolute pleasure to sit back and watch. As Chris likes to say, “You’ve gotta love some Bronwen TV.”
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Mother's Guilt
Truthfully, I feel a little guilty about the whole potty training thing. I was so anxious about what would happen, how it would happen and if it would happen, I kept putting the whole thing off. Then the lady at daycare started bugging me.
“Bring in panties,” she would say to me everyday.
“Oh, she’s not ready for that yet,” I would say sneaking out of the door.
“Bring in panties. She’ll be ready.” She kept bugging me and I finally felt like a jerk not bringing them in, so one Monday I picked up a 10 pack of underwear and brought them in.
“She’s doesn’t really want to wear these,” I said smugly as I left them in her storage box at the daycare.
A week later Bronwen was potty trained and only wearing pull-ups at night. a week after that, no more pull-ups.
So, I feel pretty guilty because I didn’t have to do any work. We had two accidents (which, frankly, were hilarious) and then nothing. No stress, no worries, nothing.
Sometimes, when I start feeling that “daycare guilt” that working mothers can fall prey to pretty easily, you know, where you think that you are a bad mom for putting your kids in daycare, like they would be so much better off if you stayed home with them. But then, daycare potty trains your kid in a week and you realize that they actually know what they are doing and that your kid is thriving and healthy. Of course I wish we could spend everyday hanging out, but it does make things feel a little better.
“Bring in panties,” she would say to me everyday.
“Oh, she’s not ready for that yet,” I would say sneaking out of the door.
“Bring in panties. She’ll be ready.” She kept bugging me and I finally felt like a jerk not bringing them in, so one Monday I picked up a 10 pack of underwear and brought them in.
“She’s doesn’t really want to wear these,” I said smugly as I left them in her storage box at the daycare.
A week later Bronwen was potty trained and only wearing pull-ups at night. a week after that, no more pull-ups.
So, I feel pretty guilty because I didn’t have to do any work. We had two accidents (which, frankly, were hilarious) and then nothing. No stress, no worries, nothing.
Sometimes, when I start feeling that “daycare guilt” that working mothers can fall prey to pretty easily, you know, where you think that you are a bad mom for putting your kids in daycare, like they would be so much better off if you stayed home with them. But then, daycare potty trains your kid in a week and you realize that they actually know what they are doing and that your kid is thriving and healthy. Of course I wish we could spend everyday hanging out, but it does make things feel a little better.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Breakfast
Bronwen in the Garden There is nothing like a bean straight from the plant or a tomato, still warm from the sun. This morning before Bronwen and I got into the car to speed off to our respective day jobs, we took a walk together in the garden. After last nights thunderstorms the air was clean and cool and the plants were vibrant and healthy looking. Bronwen stopped to touch every developing tomato and pepper; she poked every flower. The string beans had doubled in size since yesterday. I snapped off bean after bean and we munched them in the cool morning of the garden.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Flossing For Fun
I have recently taken a fervent interest in flossing. I’ve never really flossed my teeth, despite what I tell my dentist. I have always felt that my teeth are too close together so flossing is literally a real pain. But ever since my last dentist appointment, I have been flossing like a maniac.
During this recent cleaning, the hygienist, who I have never met before, really went at my mouth with the floss. I was pretty sure she was going to slice right into my jaw bone with the string. It was actually quite painful. But when I got home and the pain had started to wear off, I sort of felt, what I am going to call a feeling of “floss-fit.” Like a nicotine fit where you just have to have a smoke, my gums were jonesing for more flossing.
Ever since that day, I have had at least a once daily floss-fit. Suddenly I have become the person who has floss in her purse. I have become the person who flosses at a red light while driving to work. I have always loathed the excessive mouth hygiene people, and now I am halfway to becoming one. At least I only brush my teeth once daily.
During this recent cleaning, the hygienist, who I have never met before, really went at my mouth with the floss. I was pretty sure she was going to slice right into my jaw bone with the string. It was actually quite painful. But when I got home and the pain had started to wear off, I sort of felt, what I am going to call a feeling of “floss-fit.” Like a nicotine fit where you just have to have a smoke, my gums were jonesing for more flossing.
Ever since that day, I have had at least a once daily floss-fit. Suddenly I have become the person who has floss in her purse. I have become the person who flosses at a red light while driving to work. I have always loathed the excessive mouth hygiene people, and now I am halfway to becoming one. At least I only brush my teeth once daily.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Aggressive Friendliness
I just got a spring cold and I am officially on the exciting and nauseating ride that is the cold medicine roller coaster. This afternoon, after my very satisfying Cinco de Mayo dollar tacos at El Azteca, I returned to the office feeling very bad. Chills, fever and overall aches; I was not happy. Then I took my cough medicine and waited for the relief to wash over me. I didn’t even realize that I was feeling better until I found myself walking down the hallway being aggressively friendly to relative strangers.
“Hey, how you doing?” I practically shouted in this guys face. He looked taken aback, but through his quick thinking was able to retort,
“Good, how about you?”
“Great!” I shouted back at him. “Thanks for asking!”
Just an hour ago I would have scowled, or at best ignored the guy. With my medicine I was practically ready to be best friends. Got to love the stuff.
This past summer my brothers and sister and family all got together for a week at the NJ beach. My sister in law Heidi, who I adore, is a born and raised Kentucky farm girl and she is aggressively friendly. As we walked around the little beach town she greeted every person we passed as if he was an old friend, which New Jersey folk don't really like and find suspicious. It was amazing to watch people step back, or stare at her or worst, just ignore her. It actually became a joke and we called her our "special" cousin from Kentucky.
I think it is kind of sad that being so friendly is seen as weird or uncouth. I enjoy the thought of a world full of Heidis, all smiling and asking "how ya doing?"
“Hey, how you doing?” I practically shouted in this guys face. He looked taken aback, but through his quick thinking was able to retort,
“Good, how about you?”
“Great!” I shouted back at him. “Thanks for asking!”
Just an hour ago I would have scowled, or at best ignored the guy. With my medicine I was practically ready to be best friends. Got to love the stuff.
This past summer my brothers and sister and family all got together for a week at the NJ beach. My sister in law Heidi, who I adore, is a born and raised Kentucky farm girl and she is aggressively friendly. As we walked around the little beach town she greeted every person we passed as if he was an old friend, which New Jersey folk don't really like and find suspicious. It was amazing to watch people step back, or stare at her or worst, just ignore her. It actually became a joke and we called her our "special" cousin from Kentucky.
I think it is kind of sad that being so friendly is seen as weird or uncouth. I enjoy the thought of a world full of Heidis, all smiling and asking "how ya doing?"
Monday, May 4, 2009
Where Will Shiitake Kickers Go next?
During the first season of kickball last year Cavin was visiting and came to watch a game. Sometime during that game I convinced the coach to give Cavin the one remaining Shiitake Kickers shirt with the promise that Shiitake Kickers t-shirt pictures would be taken in Vietnam.
Here is the most recent photo! Thanks Cavin and Sunshine!
Here is the most recent photo! Thanks Cavin and Sunshine!
Ha Long Bay, Vietnam
Friday, May 1, 2009
Bestway to Beers
There is a crappy little local grocery store about a mile down the road from us called Bestway. I have been shopping there for years on account of its being right across the street from the laundromat where I used to go to wash my clothes. Recently Bestway was bought out by a private investor who has taken great steps to improve and update the place. The very first thing he did, and I think this is brilliant, was remove the wall of produce racks that were, in the past, half empty with substandard fruits and vegetables. In its place, and stretching from one wall of the store to the other, is a beautiful, gleaming new beer and wine case. In this case they have put more different types of beer than I have ever seen in one place every. It boggles the mind.
The last few times I have been in there (and I have been going there with an increased frequency) I have stood slack jawed in front of the case for long minutes just appreciating the view.
The last time I was there I decided that each shopping trip must consist of the purchase of a new beer, never before tried inour household. Here are the first three new beers and some notes regarding their taste, bottle, and overall experience.
Lucky Buddha
Obviously, it was the bottle that forced me to pick this beer first in our quest to try them all. It is from china. It is a very light lager, akin to Heineken, but with less bitterness and body. Not a beer I would drink for the flavor, but I loved holding that fat Buddha bottle. I will have to get it again as I gave the first bottle to Chris and I need to have one of my own.
This beer has an owl on the label, so it had to be drunk. Also, the opportunity to try beer that has been kept in sake casks could not be passed. I didn’t really like it. It was a little too sweet and had a strange aftertaste that I am still struggling to define, like soap, or cleaning chemicals; weird, but worth a taste. Plus, now I have the cutest owl bottle cap for my collection.
This beer is a happy surprise. I am not usually a huge fan of bitters, but this beer is wonderful. It is medium bodied, smooth and flavorful, (or should I say flavourful?) It is slightly sweeter than bitters I have had in the past, but it is certainly not too sweet; absolutely delicious.
The last few times I have been in there (and I have been going there with an increased frequency) I have stood slack jawed in front of the case for long minutes just appreciating the view.
The last time I was there I decided that each shopping trip must consist of the purchase of a new beer, never before tried inour household. Here are the first three new beers and some notes regarding their taste, bottle, and overall experience.
Lucky Buddha
Obviously, it was the bottle that forced me to pick this beer first in our quest to try them all. It is from china. It is a very light lager, akin to Heineken, but with less bitterness and body. Not a beer I would drink for the flavor, but I loved holding that fat Buddha bottle. I will have to get it again as I gave the first bottle to Chris and I need to have one of my own.
Hitachino Nest Beer, XH
This beer has an owl on the label, so it had to be drunk. Also, the opportunity to try beer that has been kept in sake casks could not be passed. I didn’t really like it. It was a little too sweet and had a strange aftertaste that I am still struggling to define, like soap, or cleaning chemicals; weird, but worth a taste. Plus, now I have the cutest owl bottle cap for my collection.
Ridgeway Bitter
This beer is a happy surprise. I am not usually a huge fan of bitters, but this beer is wonderful. It is medium bodied, smooth and flavorful, (or should I say flavourful?) It is slightly sweeter than bitters I have had in the past, but it is certainly not too sweet; absolutely delicious.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Zip-lock of Destiny
This story started about a year and a half ago when Ian brought over a whole squid to add to the grilling surplus at Bronwen’s first birthday party. At the end of the party he left at our house a large zip-lock bag filled with squid for future use. I promptly threw it into the abyss that is the freezer and never saw it again until last Friday when, while digging around for something to defrost for dinner I happened upon a rock solid, frozen bag of squid.
“Do you think I should throw this out?” I asked Dan.
He scowled at me, so I walked out to the garbage bin and tossed it in and promptly forgot it.
The next weekend some friends came over for dinner and kept complaining about the stink coming from the garbage bin.
“Yeah, we forgot to take it out last week,” I apologized, not even thinking the bag of squid could have anything to do with it.
Yesterday as I was wheeling in the garbage bin I was perturbed to discover that the bin, although recently emptied, still reeked. I lifted the lid and saw a scrunched-up zip-lock bag at the bottom of the bin. I reached in to pull it out for closer inspection. That is when I realized that I was standing in the middle of my driveway with a zip-lock bag full of swollen wriggling maggots.
Disgusted, I dropped the bag back into the bin and continued dragging it towards its storage place. The stink was even worse when I parked it, and as my flip flop slipped and my barefoot squished into rotting squid flesh that had somehow ended up on the ground behind the garbage I had the sickening realization that I would never be able to eat squid again.
“Do you think I should throw this out?” I asked Dan.
He scowled at me, so I walked out to the garbage bin and tossed it in and promptly forgot it.
The next weekend some friends came over for dinner and kept complaining about the stink coming from the garbage bin.
“Yeah, we forgot to take it out last week,” I apologized, not even thinking the bag of squid could have anything to do with it.
Yesterday as I was wheeling in the garbage bin I was perturbed to discover that the bin, although recently emptied, still reeked. I lifted the lid and saw a scrunched-up zip-lock bag at the bottom of the bin. I reached in to pull it out for closer inspection. That is when I realized that I was standing in the middle of my driveway with a zip-lock bag full of swollen wriggling maggots.
Disgusted, I dropped the bag back into the bin and continued dragging it towards its storage place. The stink was even worse when I parked it, and as my flip flop slipped and my barefoot squished into rotting squid flesh that had somehow ended up on the ground behind the garbage I had the sickening realization that I would never be able to eat squid again.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Shoeless Shiitake
Kickball started out on the wrong foot this evening. As I stepped out of my car to walk down to the field, I realized that the reason I felt so comfortable was that I was wearing my flip flops. With only ten minutes to the start of the game, and no one to fill in for me, (we'd have to forfeit if I couldn’t play) I whipped out my cell phone and rang Dan with an urgency of one trying to make the deadline on tax day at the post office.
“Dan, get my sneakers, socks, no it doesn’t matter what kind, and get over here as fast as you can!”
I waited in the parking lot, counting down the seconds. As I saw my coach climbing the stairs to look for me, Dan finally did a drive by and tossed my socks and sneakers out the sunroof. I grabbed and ran.
It wasn’t until I was standing in the dugout flinging my flip flops, keys, cell phone, and water bottle on the ground and scrambling to get my damn shoes and socks on that I realized that the both teams were on the field watching and waiting for me so we could start the game.
Fortunately, thing improved from there. I got on based every kick, and despite a number of errors on our part we came away with a 9-3 win over the Fighting Christians.
Go Shittake Kickers!
“Dan, get my sneakers, socks, no it doesn’t matter what kind, and get over here as fast as you can!”
I waited in the parking lot, counting down the seconds. As I saw my coach climbing the stairs to look for me, Dan finally did a drive by and tossed my socks and sneakers out the sunroof. I grabbed and ran.
It wasn’t until I was standing in the dugout flinging my flip flops, keys, cell phone, and water bottle on the ground and scrambling to get my damn shoes and socks on that I realized that the both teams were on the field watching and waiting for me so we could start the game.
Fortunately, thing improved from there. I got on based every kick, and despite a number of errors on our part we came away with a 9-3 win over the Fighting Christians.
Go Shittake Kickers!
Urban Farming
I spent the day yesterday planting and I am exceedingly impressed with the results. Here is what I planted: tomatoes (5 different types), peppers (5 different types), eggplant, cucumber, watermelon, peas, string beans, carrots, zucchini, herbs (mint, cilantro, basil, dill, parsley). I also planted peonies, coreopsis, and other flowers. I am very pleased with my little urban farm. Next comes the goat!
As I was huffing and puffing away I imagined the day when I would cook up an omelet with peppers, tomatoes, and herbs, and slices of fresh watermelon for dessert. It is immensely satisfying to be able to produce you own food and I can’t wait to start reaping the benefits.
As I was huffing and puffing away I imagined the day when I would cook up an omelet with peppers, tomatoes, and herbs, and slices of fresh watermelon for dessert. It is immensely satisfying to be able to produce you own food and I can’t wait to start reaping the benefits.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The Chickens Have Arrived
I was nervous when we pulled into the parking lot of the Farmers Feed and Seed in Kernersville NC. I was sure I would be ejected as a farm ignorant city dweller, that the people working there would snigger at my questions about chickens, and that I would generally embarrass myself. No body made fun of us and the staff at the feed and seed store was wonderful.
We first considered the chicks in the back warehouse. There were little white chicks and fluorescent orange ones. Both required time under a heat lamp as they were too young to live directly outside yet. Dan didn’t want the hassle of the heat lamp and all that, and I agreed, so another gentleman walked us across the street to a fenced in area behind an old store front. This fenced in area was lined with hnadmade rabbit cages filled with tiny bunnies, and at the far end I could see chickens milling around inside a large coop. My initial nervousness on entering the store was nothing compared to the way my stomach sank when the gentleman helping us opened the rickety coop and I spotted the largest chickens I have ever seen. (I am pretty sure I have never seen chickens up close before, so it is hard to say how these chickens really compare to all chicken breeds.)
I almost called it quits right there. What the hell am I supposed to do with one of those monsters? Bronwen kept sticking her head in the cage and I was afraid they would peck her eyes out. The guy helping us started on his chicken education spiel. He grabbed a dark red hen and with fingers under each wing he flipped her over to show us her “vent” which he said we needed to periodically check for lice.
“Oh, she’ll lay in the next two weeks,” he informed us and went on to describe how he could tell. The rest of the conversation was a blur.
We ended picking out two pullets (young chickens that are older than chicks but not fully mature) instead of four as I was convinced the monsters wouldn’t fit into the coop we designed, stuffed them into a very small box, picked out the rest of our supplies and headed back to Greensboro.
We first considered the chicks in the back warehouse. There were little white chicks and fluorescent orange ones. Both required time under a heat lamp as they were too young to live directly outside yet. Dan didn’t want the hassle of the heat lamp and all that, and I agreed, so another gentleman walked us across the street to a fenced in area behind an old store front. This fenced in area was lined with hnadmade rabbit cages filled with tiny bunnies, and at the far end I could see chickens milling around inside a large coop. My initial nervousness on entering the store was nothing compared to the way my stomach sank when the gentleman helping us opened the rickety coop and I spotted the largest chickens I have ever seen. (I am pretty sure I have never seen chickens up close before, so it is hard to say how these chickens really compare to all chicken breeds.)
I almost called it quits right there. What the hell am I supposed to do with one of those monsters? Bronwen kept sticking her head in the cage and I was afraid they would peck her eyes out. The guy helping us started on his chicken education spiel. He grabbed a dark red hen and with fingers under each wing he flipped her over to show us her “vent” which he said we needed to periodically check for lice.
“Oh, she’ll lay in the next two weeks,” he informed us and went on to describe how he could tell. The rest of the conversation was a blur.
We ended picking out two pullets (young chickens that are older than chicks but not fully mature) instead of four as I was convinced the monsters wouldn’t fit into the coop we designed, stuffed them into a very small box, picked out the rest of our supplies and headed back to Greensboro.
Harmony and Cordelia explore their new home
Back at the house, the chickens seemed instantly at home, pecking at worms and rolling in the dust. I forced myself to hold them for a bit to reduce my fear. They’re not so bad. After the initial shock and having had some time to watch them act like chickens I have decided that they are really quite cool; little dinosaurs walking around in the backyard.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Urban Chickens
So the chickens have kind of become an obsession. I find myself thinking about, talking about, or planning for the chickens pretty much everyday. I think I am starting to get burned out.
We finished building the chicken run this weekend and as of this very moment we are ready for chickens to inhabit the home we have created. There are a few more security measures that we need to take care of as I have seen foxes in the neighborhood and friends more familiar with chicken rearing have suggested some upgrades, like a secure coop door for nights.
We finished building the chicken run this weekend and as of this very moment we are ready for chickens to inhabit the home we have created. There are a few more security measures that we need to take care of as I have seen foxes in the neighborhood and friends more familiar with chicken rearing have suggested some upgrades, like a secure coop door for nights.
The Todd Coop I am looking forward to finally getting our little chicks and seeing what this chicken world is all about. I have read so much about the Urban Chicken movement; I am wondering if it really is all it’s cracked up to be.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Fort Lauderdale Airport
The Fort Lauderdale airport is deceptively small. When I arrived it seemed that the terminal was only slightly larger than the Greensboro airport. The short walk to the baggage claim was clean and the signs were easy to follow. The baggage claim was manageable, and it only took a few minutes to get our bags. It wasn’t until I was on the rental car shuttle bus, driving past terminals 2, 3, and 4 that I realized that my initial assessment of the airports size was wrong. It is quite large; the outside of the terminals reminded me of the LAX.
My return to the airport was far more exciting than the arrival two days prior. I returned my thoroughly trash filled car and followed the signs to the airport shuttles. I hopped aboard the “Port Everglades” bus, shoved my luggage on the storage shelves and sat down, feeling very satisfied with myself and my superior travel skills.
It wasn’t until the shuttle bus was leaving the airport that I realized I had gotten on the wrong bus, which is funny, because all of the signs were there way before the moment we left. Like when the bus driver shouted “Masadam is first,” I should have thought, “What airline is that? That doesn’t sound familiar.” And when we drove right by my terminal I should have thought, “Hey, I needed to stop there.” But I didn’t because I was so proud of myself for being such a great traveler; I just sat back and reveled in my accomplishments. The reveling stopped as we pulled into the docks in front of the first cruise ship.
We stopped at three cruise ships before we turned around to head back to the airport. It took about 45 minutes from the time I got on the bus to the time I was returned to the Avis Rental Car center (the driver wouldn’t take me directly to the terminal, even though I begged him and showed him my nicest smile.) I got onto the right bus, “Terminals,” and made it to the ticket counter and hour after I had arrived.
Fort Lauderdale also has the best airport food. I had a Greek Plate with dolmades, hummus, feta and olives and greek salad. It wasn't cheap ($11.95) but, it was fresh and filling, better than fast food and it was easily portable.
My return to the airport was far more exciting than the arrival two days prior. I returned my thoroughly trash filled car and followed the signs to the airport shuttles. I hopped aboard the “Port Everglades” bus, shoved my luggage on the storage shelves and sat down, feeling very satisfied with myself and my superior travel skills.
It wasn’t until the shuttle bus was leaving the airport that I realized I had gotten on the wrong bus, which is funny, because all of the signs were there way before the moment we left. Like when the bus driver shouted “Masadam is first,” I should have thought, “What airline is that? That doesn’t sound familiar.” And when we drove right by my terminal I should have thought, “Hey, I needed to stop there.” But I didn’t because I was so proud of myself for being such a great traveler; I just sat back and reveled in my accomplishments. The reveling stopped as we pulled into the docks in front of the first cruise ship.
We stopped at three cruise ships before we turned around to head back to the airport. It took about 45 minutes from the time I got on the bus to the time I was returned to the Avis Rental Car center (the driver wouldn’t take me directly to the terminal, even though I begged him and showed him my nicest smile.) I got onto the right bus, “Terminals,” and made it to the ticket counter and hour after I had arrived.
Fort Lauderdale also has the best airport food. I had a Greek Plate with dolmades, hummus, feta and olives and greek salad. It wasn't cheap ($11.95) but, it was fresh and filling, better than fast food and it was easily portable.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Shiittake Kickers Win First Game of the Season
Shiittake Kickers are back in full force last night as they whopped the Hi-Gravs with a score of 14-5 in the first game of the season . This season there are a few new teams with incredibly fun names like Where My Pitches At and Swift Kick in the Grass. But after two season of inconsistent play, the Shiittake Kickers are looking strong, with a new pitcher, a new coach and renewed desire to win!
Next game is Monday, April 6th. Come cheer us on as we battle the new team Bam!.
Next game is Monday, April 6th. Come cheer us on as we battle the new team Bam!.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Airport Review - Philadelphia, PA
Have you ever taken a bus into New York City’s Port Authority? You start your ride in some calm New Jersey suburb, and gradually make your way into one of the most exotic, exhilarating and overwhelming cities in the world. The time in the bus is generally quiet, you close your eyes, and then you arrive. The inside of Port Authority is like a mall, overly shiny full of crap you don’t need, but subdued. Then you exit the building and you are swept into the concrete valleys that are the streets of Manhattan. The wind snaps your jacket around your legs, you walk a little faster, you clutch you bag a little tigher, your hearts races a little; it’s great! That is what it is like to walk down the jetway into the Philadelphia airport. It was like being squeezed from the womb into the blinding lights, noise and colors of a foreign world. The hallways leading from gate to gate are lined with credit card salesmen, food stands, jewelry stands, and books stands, and I could hear customers bargaining and arguing as I strode by. Of course there is also the hot pretzel stand, selling traditional Philly Pretzels, 3 for $3. This is the first place I go whenever I fly into Philadelphia. It is something I thoroughly look forward to. In fact, I have flown into Philly in the past to my own inconvenience just so I could get my pretzels.
The walk to the baggage claim is a little long, and I always have to wait a long time for my luggage to show up, so those are my two complaints about PHL. Overall it is an older airport that seems to run well, is full of stuff, and is pretty easy to navigate.
Leaving Philadelphia to go to Florida was less of an enjoyable experience. Terminal A was over heated, dirty and old. But the pretzels were soft and salty and the people were nice.
The walk to the baggage claim is a little long, and I always have to wait a long time for my luggage to show up, so those are my two complaints about PHL. Overall it is an older airport that seems to run well, is full of stuff, and is pretty easy to navigate.
Leaving Philadelphia to go to Florida was less of an enjoyable experience. Terminal A was over heated, dirty and old. But the pretzels were soft and salty and the people were nice.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Looks Just Like Me
This morning Piper ran screaming into our room.
"Ellie, Bronwen just made a face and she looked just like you! It was crazy."
I guess that happens when you have kids, the screaming I mean. But today I was so desperately bored that I actually googled my name. I am not sure I've actually done that before. Anyway, I came across this.
She looks just like me!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Bathroom Etiquette
Choosing the appropriate bathroom stall is a complex process, filled with rules, addendums, and criteria that must be sorted through, agreed upon and followed to ensure a satisfactory bathroom experience for all. When my rules (which, naturally, I assume everyone knows and agrees to) are disregarded, I just can’t seem to get over it. What is up with everyone’s poor bathroom etiquette? Am I the only one who knows that you should never take the stall directly next to one already in use, unless it is an absolute emergency? So, I want to know from you out there, when choosing a bathroom stall, or urinal, what considerations do you take into account before you can have a comfortable bathroom experience. Or am I just crazy?
Brownen Goes to Eleven
Bronwen likes to count. She likes to count toys, books, peas on her plate. She likes to count while I drive her to and from school. And she likes to count while cuddling on the couch. She can count to 11. But she does have a little problem when it comes to counting. She gets stuck in a loop and doesn’t know how to stop.
Listening to a little kid count is positively charming. Probably because it is amazing that kids learn numbers so early, but also because, for a kid, counting is a deliberate and enthusiastic event. When Bronwen counts she sounds out each number, her tone rising as the number increases. “Won-na! Two-a! Tha-reeee! Fo-wer! Fi-va! etc” Lots of kids make it to “Ten-a!” and stop there. Bronwen goes to eleven.
“Ten-a! Eleven! Eight-a! Nine! Ten-a! Eleven! Eight-a! Nine! Ten-a!....” She gets stuck in a loop (8, 9, 10, 11) and just keeps going.
Dan and I first discovered “Bronwen’s loop” this past weekend. Piper and Bronwen were playing hide and seek upstairs. Piper, as usual, was bossing her little sister around, making her count, while she hid. 1, 2, 3…11, 8, 9, 10, 11, 8, 9… It went on for awhile, her voice rising until finally she stopped the loop at a random “Nine-a!” It was hilarious.
Dan thinks that she says “eleven” and thinks “seven” which is why she keeps going back to eight. That makes sense to me. Nonetheless, I have been encouraging her to count to twelve to see if it will break the cycle. I will let you know what happens.
Listening to a little kid count is positively charming. Probably because it is amazing that kids learn numbers so early, but also because, for a kid, counting is a deliberate and enthusiastic event. When Bronwen counts she sounds out each number, her tone rising as the number increases. “Won-na! Two-a! Tha-reeee! Fo-wer! Fi-va! etc” Lots of kids make it to “Ten-a!” and stop there. Bronwen goes to eleven.
“Ten-a! Eleven! Eight-a! Nine! Ten-a! Eleven! Eight-a! Nine! Ten-a!....” She gets stuck in a loop (8, 9, 10, 11) and just keeps going.
Dan and I first discovered “Bronwen’s loop” this past weekend. Piper and Bronwen were playing hide and seek upstairs. Piper, as usual, was bossing her little sister around, making her count, while she hid. 1, 2, 3…11, 8, 9, 10, 11, 8, 9… It went on for awhile, her voice rising until finally she stopped the loop at a random “Nine-a!” It was hilarious.
Dan thinks that she says “eleven” and thinks “seven” which is why she keeps going back to eight. That makes sense to me. Nonetheless, I have been encouraging her to count to twelve to see if it will break the cycle. I will let you know what happens.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I'm Talking Mommy
Not only has Bronwen started talking, she has come to a realization that she is speaking well. Last night the two of us were having a full on conversation. She was telling me how she hit a school mate in the face and I was explaining to her the downfalls of hitting. She was asking me questions and I was answering, and I was asking her questions and she was repeating them. She kept telling me, “I’m talking mommy.” All in all it was a pretty good conversation.
Isn’t it amazing to think the Dan and I contain all of the genetic information needed to create another human? Our combined cells created a human that not only has learned to use language to express herself, but remembers that there was a time when she couldn’t speak and realizes that she has learned how. That is amazing to me. I can’t imagine what it will be like when she starts playing an instrument, or writing and reading, or someday driving? Does it get less amazing as they grow?
Isn’t it amazing to think the Dan and I contain all of the genetic information needed to create another human? Our combined cells created a human that not only has learned to use language to express herself, but remembers that there was a time when she couldn’t speak and realizes that she has learned how. That is amazing to me. I can’t imagine what it will be like when she starts playing an instrument, or writing and reading, or someday driving? Does it get less amazing as they grow?
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