I am a liar and I'm creating a monster

Our incredibly kind neighbors invited us to their lake house on Lake Wauwasee for the weekend. One night while we were discussing a potential boat purchase, they invited us to visit them. After they insisted they were serious while I questioned their sanity, we gladly accepted.

They wanted us to come up Friday, if possible and after Brandon reworked his afternoon, we knew we could make it work. I somehow forgot Alex would be in school. This full day stuff regularly puts a kink in my afternoon plans. We wanted to leave around 3:00. Alex’s day doesn’t end until 3:20, and if he rode the bus home he wouldn’t be home until 3:45. Initially, I thought I’d just pick him up in the carpool lane, but that can take 30 minutes.

So, what’s a mom to do, but write a note claiming a “long scheduled appointment.” I did and Meredith and I picked him up in the office at 3:00 p.m. I was hoping to make a low-key entrance, but Meredith walked right into the corner of an open door and into the school screaming.

I wanted to know if Alex’s teacher asked him about the “appointment,” and he told me nothing much was said. Alex didn’t see a reason why it would be questioned. I told him I thought his teacher might find it fishy since it was the beginning of a holiday weekend when many people travel. Alex looked at me and said, “Yes, I know. If she would have asked me about the appointment, I would have just made something up. You know, doctor, dentist, something like that.”

Considering I can be heard giving lectures on the virtues of telling the truth several times a week, I felt pangs of guilt. I explained to Alex that I didn’t make the best choice and I felt bad for telling a fib---which sounds so much better than the “L word.” He said, “Yea, well you should just get over it. I want to get to the lake before dark.” Really, he’s six and a miniature scoundrel.

In the interest of sparing your eyeballs, I'll do a weekend update with more pictures on Monday. Just in case people actually read this thing.

Meredith and I are finally starting to get our acts together. Yesterday, we were both dressed and ready to greet the heating and air guy at 7:30 a.m. (This is a vast improvement over my two previous days of 11:00 a.m. showers.) I needed to mentally prepare myself because the company always sends the same guy to service our heating and a/c units. So, Paul and I have quarterly visits. Dear Lord can this man talk, and talk, and talk, and talk. Knowing me as you do, this is a statement. Paul was chattering away as I told him we were heading for the bus stop and he was still talking when we returned home.

Merdi and I were having company for coffee, so I didn’t really have time to chat with Paul as much as he would have apparently liked, because he talked to me the entire time I wiped the finger prints off my appliances. After Paul backed his van out of our driveway, my friend Annie and her kiddos pulled in. Not that I don’t like Paul, but Annie is much better company.

The kids road their bikes outside and played on the swing set before we headed in to photograph Annie’s latest piece of artwork. By the way, if you need a creative outlet and have an idea swimming in your head, Penny Pickles Art is holding a contest to select some new themes for tiles. I’ve seen your nurseries; you guys are full of ideas, so pop over to her site and offer your suggestion. There are prizes involved!

Before Alex got on the bus yesterday we talked about doing his personal best at school. Each day the kids sign in and the slip of paper on which they sign comes home at the end of the day. Let’s just say it’s pretty obvious The Gator is anxious to sign in and get on with his day. I asked Alex if he was doing his personal best when signing in and he said, “Mom, if you hafta ask, you probably know the answer.”

Alex also brought home a book the class created for us to review. Each student had a page and on the page they were to write their name and tell about something they liked. The page was illustrated. Some of the pages were excellent! Well written with outstanding illustrations. Alex wrote Legos illegibly, with the “L” backwards and slopped something sort of resembling a Lego tower with a boy in the middle onto the paper. I wasn’t thrilled after comparing his efforts to those of his classmates. Yes, I know I shouldn’t compare his work to that of others, but let’s face it, someone is resting on his laurels. I said, “Alex, geez this is going home with everyone and other families are going to see this. Are you proud of this page? Is this honestly the best you could do? The boy on the page doesn’t even have hands or hair!” Alex said, “Have you looked at a Lego guy? Their hands are stumpy and they don’t have hair!”

I’m never going to win, am I?

FFRROOGGYY!!!

If you have a child under the age of 10 in your house, chances are you know what the expected response is to this: “FFFRRROOOGGYYY!” Both of our kids love the "Froggy" book series by Jonathan London and Frank Remkiewicz. When Alex was Meredith’s age, we didn’t leave the library without at least two "Froggy" books. Froggy experiences all the things young children do and while we mostly just enjoyed reading them, I’m sure they’ve helped a lot of children navigate scary times. In short, it’s a great series and if you haven’t read them, start grabbing them at the library.
Yesterday Meredith and I went to the library for the first time in weeks. We were running behind and got there two full hours later than I planned. As we walked in to our mammoth library, I noticed a group of children and moms sitting on the floor, which usually means there’s a program. Sure enough, there was a special Froggy program and it was just starting. We plopped down and listened to Froggy stories and sang songs about frogs. It’s so funny for me to watch Meredith completely immerse herself in the activities, do every motion, and sign every word. Alex was--and still is--always so serious and would rather have cleaned out the refrigerator than admit he was enjoying singing the songs. Before the program was over, the librarians asked us to call for Froggy. (See first paragraph.) Who came around the corner, but THE Froggy. The kids went bananas. I was so glad we were late to the library.

Alex had a soccer scrimmage last night on the other side of town. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if that side of town didn’t have every third road closed for construction. There’s no easy way to get there and Alex was wiped out as it was. And I wonder why he has meltdowns...The poor guy went to bed at 8:00 and I let him sleep until 7:45 this morning. We have practice tonight and I think we might just forget to go.

Weekend Update

It’s taken me 30+ years to learn how easily distracted I am. I needed to reboot the computer. Someone told me in 8th grade computer lab that when you reboot you should allow the system approximately two minutes to rest between restarts. 20 years later, I’m still operating on that theory. I’m a rule follower. With my two minutes I thought I’d cram the cereal bowls into the dishwasher and start it. On my way to the kitchen, I cut through the dining room. I thought the floors looked cloudy. I decided to vacuum and steam mop. I them moved onto my foyer hall. It took me all that time to realize I had ignored the dishwasher completely. It’s a miracle my children show up when and where they need to.

This weekend was busy, but that’s really nothing new. Friday night, I had dinner with my friends Amy R. and Dawn. They are both former neighbors and I so miss being able to open my garage door and find someone hanging out in the cul-de-sac waiting to chat. Dawn is getting ready to leave on a European cruise for her 10th wedding anniversary, so we had to see her off properly. I’m so excited for her!

Saturday morning was filled with soccer. Alex has moved up in the league and now plays on an all boy team where people actually understand and play the game. This doesn’t fit well with Alex’s um, “style.” We’ll see how long this lasts. Meredith can’t wait to be eligible, so I’m sure our soccer days will continue.

The rest of our Saturday was consumed with trading in our van. The old girl was showing her age and it was time to move on before we lost our transmission. I am not one of those moms who was excited to drive a mini-van, so I can’t say I’ll miss it, but it served us well for six years. What I will miss are the automatic doors and my favorite feature…it was paid for. The new vehicle doesn’t offer either.

Sunday morning I took the kids to the pool for what is surely one of our last swims. Every time we go, I tell them this is it so “say goodbye to the pool,” then we come back two days later. After we got home, we made a trip to Costco and to get Rolly’s new specialty food.

Poor Rolly’s had a rough go of it lately. He spent the weekend with the vet, but seems to be better now. Rolly came home with a sack of pills and now eats food that costs three times as much as his old stuff.

Brandon grilled filets for dinner and I made Cesar salad (so what if it was from a bag, it counts), green beans and crash-hot potatoes. These potatoes are great and so, so easy. Do yourself a favor click on the link and try them! The big dinner was to celebrate Brandon’s promotion at work. I don’t mean to be obnoxious and braggy by announcing it on my blog, but it was well deserved! He works so hard and we are very, very proud of him! We went out for ice cream afterwards and you’re crazy if you think anyone was allowed to eat it in the new car.

Oh, a special note to Kelly. The sunset picture is just for you. I can't tell you how many times I've been on the phone with Kelly early in the morning and while letting out the dog I'll mention how gorgeous the sunrise is. She always makes fun of me. I can't help it. I was born 40 years old, so I'm nearing my mid 70's and the older set knows how to appreciate a good sunrise.

It's time to have some work done.

I had it coming to me. For whatever reason, when I grocery shop I feel obligated to chat with the check out lady. I think that job would be boring, grueling, and a little gross. Who wants to scan raw chicken all day?

Sometimes it’s obvious the checker isn’t in the mood to talk. Sometimes he/she just plain looks like someone I wouldn’t have much in common with aside from the fact that we both probably buy milk, bread, and eggs. I get it. I put a lid on my chatter and keep my keen eye on the scanner to make sure I’m not being overcharged. Today the checkout girl initiated the conversation.

The Checkout Girl and I were babbling back and forth and I heard a Bangles song playing over the sound system. I said, “Oh wow, this is an old song.” Checkout Girl said, “Yeah, they pretty much play old stuff all the time.” Since I find it impossible to shut my mouth, I said, “I think I was in Jr. High when this was popular. You probably weren’t even born.” Rather than take the polite route and say, “Oh don’t be silly. You can’t be that much older than me.” Checkout Girl said, “Oh yeah, I’m SURE I wasn’t born then.”

Which brings me to this…I’ve decided I need to start taking better care of my skin. I think God wants me to. I flipped on the TV at 6:00 a.m. and normally Fox News is on, but I fell asleep to an episode of “Tori and Dean Inn Love.” (In case you’ve never been up with a nursing infant, obscure cable channels fill air time with infomercials.) There was Cindy Crawford with her 41-year-old flawless face. Evidently, she looks fabulous as a direct result of using a skin care regime called Meaningful Beauty.

The more I watched, the more I became convinced my Neutrogena wasn’t doing the trick. I’m 100% sure it contains 0% free radicals, and apparently that’s what I’m missing. That must be why I can see faint cross feet coming to roost. I started going over our budget in my head and wondered if I really needed to spend $119/month on skin care. But then…but then…they slashed the price in half…and wait, the first 500 callers get the whole set for $29.95!

I’m realistic enough to know no amount of melon extract is going to make me look like Cindy Crawford. I don’t have a mole on my lip. However, there were other testimonials from Valerie Bertinelli, who by the way also makes me conscience of my weight issue, and some lady from CSI. Not to mention the raves from Cindy’s relatives. Honestly. You’d think I would know better, but I have to tell you I’m considering it.

First, this commercial just happened to be on when I turned on the TV and then the Checkout Girl confirms my aging suspicions. Yep. I think God wants me to save my face before it’s too late.

If you’ve ever used Meaningful Beauty or know anyone who is not a paid endorser who has, please leave me a comment and let me know what you think. If you think I should see a dermatologist instead of taking skin care advice from Valerie Bertinelli, now’s the time to chime in.

In the interest of full disclosure, I’m typing this in my pajamas. It’s noon. I should be showering and doing the 85 loads of laundry that accumulated over the weekend. But, if I don’t journal this now, I’ll loose half the details down my garbage disposal.

This weekend was Meredith’s good friend Clare’s fourth birthday party. Clare’s mom Jill E., planned a fabulous celebration for Clare at the American Girl Store in Chicago. We left Saturday morning and made the trip into the city. One great thing about living near Indy---Chicago is only a three hour drive.

Bitty Baby enjoying her tea...

We saw a play staring Bitty Bear, had lunch and cake at The American Girl Café, and then emptied our wallets to stifle the tantrums. I had a big talk with Meredith that we would buy Bitty Baby an outfit and that was it. We weren’t going to buy a doll and she was very good about not asking for one until…until...

Until, I took her to see the dolls in their historical vignettes. The dolls are posed behind glass with ALL of their accessories on display. In Merdi’s defense, she didn’t ask to go to this section. She didn’t even know it existed. It was my big idea. As soon as we hopped off the escalator Meredith spotted Kit Kittredge in all her glory.


In further defense of Meredith, she has poured over the American Girl catalogue for the last year, and always lands on Kit. The pages are usually worn from repeated thumbing. I knew we would eventually take the plunge, but Merdi’s really far too young to truly appreciate, read “take responsible care of,” a big girl doll. I made this clear to her on several occasions.

Meredith made a bee line for Kit’s case, and was a sobbing, slobbering mess within seconds. She was over tired and crying to the point I thought she might be injured. The store is so crazy I assumed someone accidently squashed her toe. I was wrong. It was a tantrum. I took her around the corner to try to calm her down, and what was showing but a preview of the Kit movie. Helpful. When I could get her to speak between sobs she let loose that she was sad because, “Mamma, you spacificawy said I not getting a doll, onwy an outfit for Bitty Baby. I wanting Kit my whowe wife, and I’m so sad.”

After 15 minutes of weighing my options and Jill confirming I could live in their basement when Brandon sent me packing; we bought the doll. Meredith was deliriously happy and couldn’t wait to spring Kit from her box. It will make it really easy to shop for Meredith’s birthdays and Christmases now because Kit has a list of accessories a miles long. Meredith wants them all.

We were a big group and finding a child-friendly restaurant near Michigan Avenue that will accommodate such a group left us one option. So, we had dinner at the Rainforest Café, which proved to be a huge hit with the girls. (The couple and their docile toddler at the table next to the large fish tank should have sat somewhere else.) The girls so enjoyed their cab ride over they were very disgruntled about walking back to the hotel.

Out of sheer exhaustion, the girls all took their baths and went to sleep with little objection. After a good night’s sleep a smaller group of us met Jill’s friend from college for breakfast. Again the girls did really well and couldn’t wait to take a cab back to the hotel. We made a quick stop at Starbucks. While Jill waited in line Angie, Stacey, and I took the girls out to the itty bitty sidewalk patio. In a shining moment of parental judgment, I told the girls to sit at a little table. Only to immediately realize I’d seated them next to a pit bull, who was chained next to his owner. The dog was wearing three collars and two leashes. Not generally something you see on a beagle.

On the way home, Jill and I took a little scenic trip through Northwest Indiana. I don’t recommend it. 65 South was closed off the Skyway, and it was the most poorly marked detour in the history of the interstate. We finally made it home around 5:00 p.m. The first thing Brandon helped unload from the car was the big American Girl store bag. The first thing Meredith blurted out, “Daddy! I got Kit Kittredge.” The first thing I did, was ignore them both.

The difference between want and need and why Meredith doesn't care

If they gave a prize to the child most able to con a grandparent into practically anything, Meredith would medal. Earlier this week, we made a trip to the toy store to pick out a birthday gift for our friend Clare. Clare is turning four and is having a very special birthday party this weekend. Of course I gave the same talk everyone else gives their children when shopping for a birthday gift…”We’re here to buy something for your friend.” “Remember it isn’t your birthday.” “No one will ask, beg, or whine for anything and whoever does will take a six hour nap.”

Despite my canned lecture, Meredith fell in love with a suitcase, of all things, within six feet of the door. She started making her case. She needed the suitcase. I told her we had plenty of suitcases, and I made my best effort to reiterate the difference between want and need. I knew Meredith had a vision of herself walking into a hotel or onto a plane carrying the hot pink round bag. If you’ve ever taken a small child shopping or been in a five mile radius of a child in a store, you know we left the store with a pouty lip and big crocodile tears. I was done discussing the suitcase.

Almost done. At 4:30 a.m., Meredith walked into my room to tell me she had a bad dream. I asked her to tell me the dream and she said, “I was Cinderewewwa and Awex was Pwince Chaaming, and you were da wicked stepmudda who woudn’t wet me hab da suitcase.” I marched her back to bed.

I told GramPam the story in the morning because I thought it was funny. GramPam thought it was sad, not funny. She asked me to go get the suitcase and send her a bill. I couldn’t believe my ears. Surely she wasn’t this easily swindled. Then again, she has been known to make purchases from infomercials.

GramPam agreed with me that Meredith created a vision and she didn’t think we should keep her from it. Sigh. I told her I had a vision of myself carrying around a new Vera Bradley duffle and was quickly shot down.

Obviously, Meredith wouldn’t keep her gift under her lid, so we’d have to find something for Alex from GramPam too. Easy. The store is chock full of art kits. Done. He was as thrilled as Meredith.


Aside from picking up suitcases and art kits, Meredith and I went to the home of Penny Pickles to shoot some of Annie’s beautiful work. Before I left, I grabbed a quick shot of “The” Penny Pickles.


This is Annie’s daughter, Penny. Her brothers gave her the sweet nickname of “Penny Pickles,” and it fits Annie’s studio so well. Isn’t she a doll?!

Meredith and I are off on an adventure this weekend. If you’ve talked to Meredith at all this week, you know exactly where we’re headed. Brandon and Alex will be at home doing manly things like landscaping and ordering pizza because they’ll claim they didn’t know how to reheat the lasagna I’ll leave in the fridge.