The Fish Pond

Journey, Destination, Etc. Part I: DC to Chicago

After a mad scramble Wednesday morning to get packed and take Little Man to his reading class that he's taking this summer (more on that later), my FIL drove me down to Union Station to catch the train. FIL used to be a DC firefighter decades ago, and he filled the drive with all kinds of stories about fires, and places and activities and buildings that used to be and still are in the city. It was kind of nice to have that instead of awkward silence. Nemo and I managed to make it with one suitcase, one laptop backpack packed to the gills with my clothes for the train, one diaper bag packed to the gills with his stuff for the train, and the stroller.

I got to Union Station and got into line to get my tickets, and a very nice Amtrak employee came and got me and walked me through both the process to pick up my tickets and then through the baggage check line, since I knew the sleeper in the train was rather small and there wouldn't be room for my suitcase. He took care of everything, and then since a sleeper is considered first class, Nemo and I got to go hang out in the lounge. Nemo attracts all kinds of attention and he flirted for at least a half an hour with two sweet older women on their way to Florida for a family reunion.

The train ride was fabulous, even if I didn't sleep very well. First I got the pleasure of riding within a quarter mile of my house, making me miss the family before I'd even left MD. Then the view was all kinds of rolling countryside, interspersed periodically with the ass-end of numerous industrial complexes, both small and large. Nemo nursed well and went to sleep reasonably well, around 9:30 or so, but he kicks and rolls so much I was afraid he was going to fall off the bunk and roll underneath it into the black vortex that I was sure contained numerous spiders and filth that he would be delighted to try to eat, so I stayed up and read Jennifer Weiner's Good in Bed.

When you travel by train, your meals are eaten in common, meaning several parties that may or may not know each other are seated together. I was relieved to be seated with a woman and her son from Wisconsin, and I learned that the city of LA is outsourcing some of its 9-1-1 service to other areas due to a lack of spanish-speaking call takers. I'm glad that it appears to have better results than the outsourcing of tech support to other countries.

I arrived here in Chicago at 9 am. I went to baggage claim to get my suitcase, grabbed it, and was stopped by security because I didn't have a claim ticket. The woman was actually quite surly when I kept telling her I didn't have a ticket. She asked for my ticket jacket because she insisted that it was attached, and didn't believe me when I told her that I didn't have one, I only had the stub from that trip and my return ticket. I explained to her that an Amtrak employee had escorted me through the lines and taken care of it for me, and he hadn't given me a claim ticket or a ticket jacket. After about 20 minutes of this awful back and forth, with me getting increasingly worried that I wasn't going to get my bag, I convinced her that I didn't have it at that time, and she made me fill out a form to get my own bag. Not satisfied with that, she told me as I walked away "I bet you'll find that stub later."

I went to the hotel about 11 am, after killing time in the train station for 2 hours, but I ended up having to wait until 1:30 to check in to the hotel. After check-in, I got a shower with Nemo in his stroller in the bathroom.

Bliss.

Up next: Day One of BlogHer

It's the Journey as Much as the Destination

I'm here! I'm in Chicago at BlogHer. It was quite an adventure on the train - more on that later after I manage to get BDF and the kids directions to the hotel - they just flew out.

AIIIEEEE!!

Noah's Pals Have A Little Bit Extra

My kids have an extensive collection of small plastic animals that they love to set up in elaborate schemes all over the house. Fisher Price Little People animals, cheap plastic ones from the dollar store, and those fancy Schleich animals all mingle together in off-scale harmony. So when the Parent Bloggers asked for people to receive and review Noah's Pals animals, I thought we'd be a good test family.

Noah's Pals are a set of plastic animals that, as the name implies, come in sets of two and are designed to fit into an ark. They are of good quality, highly detailed, and I think they will be durable as my kids play with them over time. They are supposed to be for ages 5-10, but honestly Sunny, who's 3, plays with them the most of my kids. They come in sets of two, except the doves which include Noah in the set, or you can purchase the entire set all at once with the ark at amazon.com.

The thing that separates these animals from other toy animals or Noah's ark sets is the collecting concept. Each Noah's Pals set comes with a card that provides a bunch of different information about the animal such as its habitat, scientific names, sizes, and whether the animal is common, vulnerable, or endangered. On the back of the card is a code and if you go to the web site and enter the codes, they will keep track of which sets you have. If you collect all the sets, they will send you a "Caboodle," which is the prize or bonus for collecting the whole thing.

The web site is a bit challenging for a 7 year old to navigate all by herself, so expect to have to help your kids register and enter their codes. There are a whole bunch of extras on the site, like a downloadable coloring book and games. They also have a partnership with the Wildlife Conservation Society, to whom they donate 5% of their net sales.

Noah's Pals are a fun way for your child to get involved in collecting in a meaningful way.

Big Ol' Bundle of Nerves

Eep! I had NO idea how long it had been since I posted! I am so sorry. I have been up to a bunch of things, most importantly a major decluttering effort in my kitchen. It is starting to look like people live here again, finally, so good progress is being made. Since I don't have a lot of time, here are some cop-out bullets about things I was up to in the last week.

• I got together with two of my oldest friends in the world on Wednesday and we took our collective 11 kids to a somewhat local cave/caverns, maybe 1/5 the size of Luray. Sunny was scared but the others enjoyed themselves (I wore Nemo in the Mei Tai), and on the way home I asked if they'd had fun. Trout responded "Mommy, that was awesome! I want to come here EVERY DAY!"
• I went shopping with a friend of mine last weekend to get clothes for BlogHer that don't make me look completely like the day-to-day frump that I am. It was my friend whose mother passed away about the time that my grandfather did, and this was the first time we'd had to really spend time together just the two of us since then. We talked a lot about how we are coping with our losses and stresses in our lives, and just had good bonding time. We ate well, we talked, we shopped and she is a bargain hunter extraordinaire, so my wallet was relatively happy.
• I got the first checks in the settlement of my grandfather's estate, and was just so torn up I couldn't speak for a couple of days. I'd rather have him, whole, instead of all the money in the world, and I am not handling tangible and intangible reminders that he's gone very well at all. I just really, really miss him.
• Nemo got a couple more teeth (he now has 4) and has learned to both stand up and sit back down. He's crawling everywhere and I'm getting a whole lot more exercise on a daily basis.
• Oh, yeah, and I turned 37 yesterday. I had a nice dinner with BigDaddyFish last night, but otherwise the day was a wash.

Aside from all that, I will be leaving on Wednesday for the very first trip I've ever taken by myself in my life, and I'm taking the baby with me. I am more than a little nervous, but I am tremendously excited and looking forward to meeting my friends in the computer, in real life, plus get a chance to see those who I look up to. We all know I'm going to make an awkward mess of myself, so hopefully I won't scare anyone. I am going by train, since we know how I feel about flying, and I'm worrying myself all into a tizzy about how I'm going to go to the bathroom on the train, since it is a 17 hour journey (it actually isn't bad - I've taken the auto train to Orlando and it is about the same time frame - you spend a good portion of it asleep since it's overnight), and how the baby is going to do. Combine that with worries about what my family is going to be up to while I'm gone (there is a possibility they may come out, too, only later) and I'm just a mess.

So how have I been coping with this?

Reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Is there any other way?

Taking Care of Those Who Take Care of Us

Last weekend we went to the baptism of our friend's son and then went out to eat with him and his son and our whole family. The kids had to sit still for the baptism and service, which took about an hour, and they were rowdy, to say the least. We had them do a little game of Simon Says out in the parking lot, but they were still a little crazy in the restaurant. We hoped that once they got some food in them they would settle down a bit.

I ordered chocolate milk for Little Man, who had nothing but water and juice all day, but he moaned and complained that he doesn't like chocolate milk. He loves chocolate milk, he was just being ornery. The waitress was really, really good, talking to all of the kids, addressing each one directly, asking them about their preferences down to the last detail. Each one's order came back perfectly. She was on top of drink refills for the grown-ups (hard to see the kids' drinks in cups with tops), checked on us enough but not too much, and generally took great care of us.

The kids were in rare form, a little too noisy, a little too rowdy, a little too...kid. Nothing out of the ordinary, but still on the more "active" scale. We three adults did our best with the shushing, reminding, even putting a kid in time out at one point (we were up against the wall in a section more or less by ourselves, so putting him in the corner wasn't disruptive to other patrons), but they were being kids. There were a couple of spills, dropped silverware, just everything you would expect from 5 kids age 8 and under. Still, we made it through okay.

Later in the meal, Little Man had finished his chocolate milk and decided he wanted some more (of course!), so he marched his self up to the bar (Bob Evans kinda bar) and asked our waitress for a refill of his chocolate milk.

"But I thought you didn't like chocolate milk!" she said. They shared a nice, funny little moment as Little Man tried to explain that he liked chocolate milk after all, and she gave him his refill.

We got the bill and it was quite low compared to what we thought it would be (but we were still charged for everything we were supposed to be). But we had been a challenging group to serve, the kids acted like kids, and of course there was a bigger mess than there would have been had it been a party of 8 adults. So on our way out, I left a note on the back of a placement thanking our waitress for exceptional service, and left was amounted to a 65% tip.

As a parent, few things make me more grateful than those who are accepting of my kids just being kids and acting their ages without judging us or thinking we should just lock ourselves away for years until our kids are older. Even if we wait until they are older, they will go through a learning curve as they learn how to act in a restaurant, and I think it makes a difference to expose them now, in a controlled, family-friendly setting, and lay the foundation for future public behavior. That there are places that let us do this, and people who work there who are warm, friendly, and accomodating, in the same area as places that let BDF and me go out and escape all of this is one of the best things about living in DC.

Glimpses

Yesterday the kids and I were watching a DVD, and after I turned it off the tv reverted to the PBS channel that we had been watching before putting on the DVD. Right at that moment they were showing a documentary about a sport for which my grandfather was a very prominent national judge. I sat, transfixed, unable to change the channel. It was a profile of two teams as they prepared for and competed in the highest national level event in the sport. I saw people who I recognized, and I watched for a while, wondering when it was filmed, if my grandfather was in it.

About 15 minutes in, I saw the briefest glimpse of a judge's hand writing something on a piece of paper. It was quick, a fraction of a second, but I knew that hand. It was a left hand.

That hand held mine when I crossed the street as a child.

That hand used to circle my wrist, a small, tiny wrist, even as a teenager, as we wrestled to see if I could escape, because he was so strong but I was so skinny and flexible.

That hand wrote stories about his life for me so I would be able to hold his memories dear.

That hand cooked like a pro, with an amateur's love and joy.

That hand played with my children.

That hand, the day before he died, grasped mine fiercely, silently, warmly telling me how much he loved me, how much he knew I loved him, and that he'd see me on the other side.

But then the show progressed a little bit more, and I was uncertain, briefly, because all the judges they were showing were women.

Then another glimpse, this time of his face. Then another, longer this time.

I picked up the phone and called my uncle, made him put it on. He said that the night before he just kept feeling that my grandfather wasn't gone, just on a trip somewhere, like he was for so much of my life, especially in July. We saw him, still briefly, but about three more times.

As soon as the show was over I ordered a bunch of copies of the DVD. I don't know when it was filmed, but based on how he looked, it must have been close to the last event he ever judged. It is another small way I can keep him close.

I miss him so very, very much.

Pregnancy in the Moment

Who better to review a pregnancy book than someone who's been pregnant four times? Well, maybe someone who has been pregnant more than four times, but probably I have enough experience to offer something good here. When The Parent Bloggers asked for people to review a new pregnancy book called Body, Soul and Baby, by Tracy W. Gaudet, M.D. and Paula Spencer, I thought that maybe I have a large enough audience among the 10 or so of you who regularly come here who would be interested in this book, so I decided to give it a shot.

Body, Soul, and Baby is a meaty book, more than 500 pages, and it may be intimidating to some due to its sheer volume, but those who are persistent will find a gem of a pregnancy book, unlike any I've ever encountered. In addition to providing basic information about the medical aspects of pregnancy, development of your baby, and labor coping strategies, it teaches you how to care for all aspects of you - your body, your mind, your soul. It does this by encouraging you to be mindful of your pregnancy - all parts of it - to make decisions and live with purpose instead of letting your pregnancy just happen to you. It covers from pre-conception through a lengthy section on the postpartum period, not just a few pages but several chapters.

Of particular interest to me was both the treatment of c-sections and postpartum depression. I was thrilled to find that c-section was not treated as an afterthought, but rather had a lengthy section devoted just to it, the reasons one might be needed, what would happen, how to care for yourself afterward, and how to be at ease with getting one should you need it. I found some previous pregnancy books to be a bit dismissive of c-section or cover it in such a way that scared the crap out of me about how awful a c-section would be. As the veteran of four of them, one of which after 19 hours of labor, I can attest that while they carry more risk than a vaginal delivery, they aren't THAT bad, and I was happy to read a book that seemed to hold the same opinion.

Postpartum depression was extensively covered, including ways to decrease your risk of developing it, coping strategies if you do, how to recognize it, and ways that it may be treated. It was the most comprehensive coverage of postpartum depression that wasn't a book exclusively devoted to the topic that I'd ever seen. It also covered depression during pregnancy, something I most likely was suffering from during my pregnancy with Nemo, and something that I don't think I've seen even mentioned very often elsewhere.

I like this book, and I recommend it to anyone who is either pregnant or thinking of becoming pregnant in the future. It is comprehensive without being frightening. The positive approaches teach you to nurture yourself as you prepare to nurture your baby - just what every new and prospective mom needs.

Thrills, Spills, and Bills

Once upon a time, just before 2 pm on a hot summer's day, a young old average age mother went into her basement to do some of the never ever ending piles of filthy laundry that her family of 6 produces on a daily basis. When she walked into her utility room, she found a large puddle of water on the floor.

"That's odd, the washer must have leaked," thought the woman. But as she examined the washer and dryer, she discovered, much to both her delight and chagrin, that the problem was not, in fact, a leak from either of those machines. The puddle was too big, and ran along the wall between the machines and the hallway.

She tentatively stepped into the hallway along the wall that backs up to the laundry machines, and her bare feet found that the carpet was soaked. She left dark footprints everywhere she stepped.

"Not good. So, not good," she thought. Then she opened the door to the closet containing the air conditioner, the furnace, and the water heater. She knew that the previous year her air conditioner had frozen and melted all over the floor, and with trepidation she examined the one-year-old unit to see if that was the source of the leak.

"Actually, this water is.....warm. Too warm, even for DC in this weather," she thought. That's when she noticed it.

The steady drip, drip, drip from the bottom of the water heater.

"Shit. Goddamn it. Shit." she muttered.

She wandered over to her rotary phone and called her husband.

"Shoot," he answered.

"Water heater," she responded.

"Shit," he said.

"That's what I said," she said.

"How bad?"

"Sorta, well, kinda, um, bad."

"Is there two inches of water all over the basement?" he asked.

"Well, no, I think I found it quickly," she said.

"Okay, call, um, whew, uh...call a plumber," he said, deciding that his parents were just too far away to respond effectively to this crisis.

"Do you have one in mind?" she asked.

"Nope, just pick someone," he advised, then hung up the phone.

So the woman wandered into the utility room again and shut off the water to the whole house, since she didn't know how to shut off just the water heater, pulled out her trusty yellow pages, and began skimming through hundreds of ads for plumbers that service her town. On and on they went, kinda like the drip, drip, dripping of the water in the basement.

"Hmmm, who do I pick? Someone who can come fast. Someone who stocks the materials I need. Someone who can service gas lines without blowing up my house or filling it with carbon monoxide. Someone trustworthy, someone who won't rip me off, oh, and someone who takes credit cards," she thought.

"Germantown Plumbing" the ad said. "That's close by," she mused.

So the woman called the Germantown Plumbing people, explained the problem, and asked how quickly they could come. The nice older gentleman took her information and told her that he would call his son to see how quickly he could come and would call back.

15 minutes later the son called, saying he'd be there in 10 minutes.

He was there 5 minutes later.

He hooked up what is essentially a super-long length of garden hose and drained the tank, then shut off the water to the tank so that the family could at least have cold water and wouldn't have to resort to bathroom functions in the woods out back. It was a townhouse development, after all, even if it was on the edge of a forest.

He arranged with the woman that he would return the following morning with a brand-spanking new water heater, bigger than the one that died. He noted that the one that died was built in 1987.

No showers were taken that night. Or the next morning.

The man called to say he would be later than he had anticipated. He showed up when his call said he would. He installed the new water heater quickly, almost entirely while the woman was gone picking up her kids. She paid him and he left on his merry way.

By the numbers:

1 20-year old, 40-gallon water heater craps out, leaves an inch of water on the floor and soaking the carpet, necessitating cutting another piece out of the carpet (that was already cut up when the damn pipe broke a year ago) to dry the basement out

1 brand spanking new 50-gallon water heater, installed, less than 24 hours after the original leak was discovered

$725. Installed. Bargain.

If you're in the area and need a plumber, call Germantown Plumbing. Seriously.

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Over the weekend the wonderful Carmen awarded me a Rockin' Girl Blogger award. I am touched and a little bewildered as to how in the heck she thinks I handle life situations better than she does. She's my inspiration on how to handle things a full 85% of the time, so either she's being incredibly nice or we're both probably royally screwed. Anyway, I'm passing it on to these fine women:

Angi, who has 4 just like I do (seriously, 2 girls, 2 boys, about the same ages as mine, just different order) and who handles life with grace and a strong sense of faith that I admire

Summer, who has the most adorable little boy, a hot husband, strong work ethic and faith, a bod to kill for, and some really funky shoes

Jen, because she's wicked funny and her blog title is something I shout at least 3 times a day

Julia, who I have been reading since forever and who has the strength of 10,000 of the mightiest women you can think of, is damn smart and a wickedly good writer, to boot

Ree, because you know that fantasy you had when you were little about living out west, where the sky is big and the horses roam and the cattle do what cattle do and you are married to a hunky cowboy? Well, she lives it - every day

So there you have it! Thanks Carmen, for making my stats go up for a few days and for thinking some part of me is cool - I am so looking forward to meeting you IRL later this month. Ladies, enjoy your bling bling, and every one else - Go. Read them. You won't be disappointed.

Up next: a cool pregnancy book, the story of the 65% tip, and the injury report. I wear myself out just thinking sometimes.

Girls After Their Mother's Heart

Last night we were watching the fireworks, the three big kids sitting on top of the van and me holding Nemo as I stood on the ground. A gentle rain fell as we watched the colorful bursts sparkle against the dark sky. The look of pure joy on Sunny's face was one I will never, never forget. Last year she slept through the fireworks. I commented on the way home about how weird it was to be watching fireworks in the rain, and Sunny said "It's not rain, Mommy, it's the little clouds cwying."

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Tonight we watched Night at the Museum, and at the end Sunny got up and started dancing to the music at the end. I turned the movie off and turned the dance music channel on for Sunny to keep dancing - she shakes it like no other 3 year old I've ever seen. Trout had been whining at me about how she wanted dessert but she hadn't finished her dinner, so I told her if she got up and danced for a full 15 minutes she could have dessert. She said, "Okay, Mom, but you have to change the music for me. I like rock."

I chuckled as I changed it to the classic rock station, where they were playing Van Halen, and she said, "No, that's not right." I changed it again to the rock station, where they were playing Evanescence followed by Metallica.

"That's good, Mom, keep it there. Here, hold my hair clips, I want to shake my hair out."

And that's exactly what my little headbanger did. Any guesses as to what I was doing back in the 80s?

But Wait! There's More

Yesterday I took Nemo to the pediatrician, and since BigDaddyFish is sick, I took Sunny along to give him a break (the bigs pretty much take care of themselves). When we got done, Sunny told me she wanted to go to McDonalds to get pancakes. It was 3pm. I explained that they only do pancakes in the morning for breakfast. She said they should make breakfast all day. I told her it would be nice, but that I'd feed her when we got home.

We were sitting at a traffic light across from the complex where the doctor is, which just happens to be in front of my new obsession, Rita's. Sunny pipes up from behind me "Mommy, I'm still hungry!"

"Yes, Sunny, I'll feed you when we get home."

"But I want to eat now! I'm hungry now!"

"We don't have anything to eat right now. We'll eat when we get home." For the record, home is a 5 minute drive from the pediatrician.

"I need to eat!"

"Well, what do you want to eat?"

"We could get italian ice."

"Well, we could, but I don't want to get baby Nemo out of the car."

"He can ride in the stroller."

"Yes, but he doesn't feel well, so I don't want to get him out. And they don't have a drive-thru."

"Well, we could go home, and get Daddy's tools, and he could make them a drive-thru."

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We rented the movie Charlotte's Web and watched it yesterday. We have the older animated version and the kids have seen it numerous times, so I didn't think the ending would cause any issues. I was oh, so wrong.

It got to the end where Charlotte has made her egg sac and has broken the news to Wilbur that she won't be returning to the barn, explaining that she is dying and doesn't have the strength to even come down from her perch. Little Man looked at me, bewildered, and said, "She's not really going to die, is she, Mom? She's going to get better, right?"

I explained that no, she wasn't going to get better, that she was dying, and I reminded him that he'd seen the other movie and so he knew what was going to happen. He flatly denied it. He gazed at me, eyes shining with tears, and then climbed into my lap, where I held him until he stopped crying. We talked about the circle of life, how all things die, but that Charlotte would live on in the lives of the children in her egg sac and in the hearts of those who knew her and loved her. I stroked his hair and hugged him, and told him that when the original animated movie came out and I had seen it in the theater as a child, I cried, too, and that it's okay to cry when we feel sad.

It was one of those rare moments where I felt competent as a mother. I think I can count on one hand the number of times that's happened.

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A couple of months ago (sorry, Dan), I got one of those e-mails asking me to review a product - I probably get about one of those a week. Most of the time I ignore them, because there is no offer of a free product or compensation or anything, and they are rather generic in nature, not using my name or anything. This one, though, addressed me by name, commented on something related to my blog in such a way as to make it clear that he had ACTUALLY READ the darn thing, and asked if I'd be willing to review TrueBlue Blueberry Juice. In one of those weird twists that happen when you blog semi anonymously, I had already been asked by Props and Pans to review the juice, and pointed that out. For whatever reason, though, I didn't get my juice to review until the day before PnP posted the reviews done by the other bloggers, so mine wasn't posted over there. Dan very nicely sent me a full case of the juice (that's 8 64oz. bottles) and I've been asking friends and family to drink it and tell what they thought, and here's the Fish Pond review.

TrueBlue Blueberry juice is quite the juice. It is full of antioxidants, has a full serving of blueberries in a 16oz. glass, and has no high fructose corn syrup. Rather, it is sweetened with cane sugar. That, combined with the natural sweetness of the blueberries, makes for a rather sweet product, and I, as well as a few other testers, found that I had to cut it with water to make it palatable. Once I did that, though, yuuuummmmmmy!

We tried the Blueberry Blackberry flavor, but there are a bunch more, including a straight blueberry flavor and a Blueberry Iced Green Tea flavor. Oddly enough, Sunny, who is our blueberry fanatic around here, didn't like it, but the rest of us more than made up for it. I feel good about giving it to the kids, and will add it to our repertoire of 100% orange, grape, and apple juice.

Thanks, Dan, for sending so much of this great juice, and sorry it took so long for me to get my act together and write about it.

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Guess who's up at Props and Pans today? While you're over there finding out the answer (ahem), notice that they're giving away a Rolling Stones' Biggest Bang DVD box set! Check out the other reviewers' thoughts on the set and enter to get yours.