Houston, we have a problem

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Why teachers drink

In my 7th grade history classes, we are learning about the Cold War, as well as the Koren War and the Vietnam War; basically wars that had to do with Communism from 1950-1980.

Because we have to cram so much in such little time, and I teach Washington State history, I was only giving them a VERY BASIC overview of the Korean and Vietnam wars today. Their history books only gave each war a paragraph each, respectively. (As a person with a degree in political science and a minor in history, this makes my brain explode, but I do my best to plod on.)

Why are we studying these wars in Washington state history, you ask? Because most of the planes and ships used by the military during those wars were built, supplied and deployed from this state. War changed the entire industry and economy of Washington, and after the Vietnam war, the demographics of Washington changed with the influx of 55,000 Asian immigrants. The entire state was changed because of these particular wars.

And so, I had to give the kids an overview, because of course, you can't just say to students: "The Korean and Vietnam wars changed Washington in the following ways..."

Because you see, students will want to know what you are talking about.

Thus, I gave them a quick synopsis. Last week we spent two days (such a joke) talking about the Communism and the Cold War, so they had a basic idea of the American ideology of the time: "Communism= evil, must be stopped."

I explained the Truman Doctrine and how we declared as a nation that we would protect any non-Communist nation from Communist take-over= N. Korea invades South Kora, we go to war to protect S. Korea. A political coup was waged in Vietnam where the Communist forces were taking over and invading South Vietnam= we went to war in Vietnam. This is obviously the very simplistic 7th grade version.

We talked about what happened in Korea, we talked about the stalemate ending, and how soldiers remain there today on the DMZ.

We then talked about Vietnam. We briefly discussed what happened there (a political coup,) We discussed the fact that Vietnam became a huge issue in this country as some people supported it as a means to an end to Communism taking over and some people were completely against it, as we were at war in another country who had shown no hostility to us.

After all of this, students were asking questions about Communism, the wars, what it is like to live in a Communist country, etc.

When all was said and done, I asked them, "can you tell me, in the most basic or simple way, why did we fight a war in Vietnam?"

One student raised his hand, excitedly, "I know, I know!!!"

Me: "Yes....student...please tell us..."

Student: "We fought in Vietnam because the people there all went crazy and were killing themselves with bombs and stuff, so we had to go there and stop them before the blew up their own country and destroyed themselves."

Ahem.

Conflict Resolution

Tonight Evie decided to flex her "muscles" by throwing a fit when bedtime came.

I told her it was time to get ready for bed, she said, "NO!"

I scooped her up, walked up the stairs with my screaming child and took her into her room to begin the process of changing her into her jammies.

I took off her jeans and shirt, she screamed; I remained silent.

Then, I grabbed her jammies and proceeded to put them on.

She on the other hand, had other ideas and tried to fight the jammies.

I was in no mood for arguing over jammies with an 18-month old, so I continued (I am in fact bigger than she.)

And while we fought, I also enjoyed talking to her during the process:

Evie: (screaming and flailing) "noooo!!!!"

Me: "It's jammie time, you need to stop (I tell her as I place her arm in the sleeve.)

Evie: (fighting) "Nooooo!!!!"

Me: (now the legs being placed in their slots,) "We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, but it's going to get done."

Evie: (Glaring, thinking about fighting,) "No Mommy!"

Me: (As I zip the jammies shut)"Life is tough little girl, it's best you get used to it."

Evie: (Sitting there, no longer crying, calmly.) "Boddle?"

Me: "No baby, you already had your bottle tonight."

Evie: "Wrraaaa!!!!"

Me: "Oh please, you are being so dramatic and you don't even have any tears!"

Evie: (Stops crying. Blink. Blink) "Boddle?"

Me: "Nope, sorry."

Evie: "Waaaaa!"

Me: "Stop crying, you need to brush your teeth."

Evie: (Crying stops. I set her on the edge of the counter in front of me and hand her the toothbrush. She happily takes it and brushes, bouncing on the sink and humming. I then help her brush until all the toothpaste has been sufficiently rinsed or spread around.)

Me: "You know, Evie, not a minute ago you were a screaming goon, and here you are, happy as a clam. I find this highly ridiculous, my dear."

Evie: (Smiles and continues playing with the toothbrush in her mouth.)

Me: (Lifting her off the counter) "Okie, dokie, all done. Time for night, night."

Evie: (Going limp, starts crying again) "Noooooooooo!!!!!"

Me: "You are beyond unreasonable, goodnight baby, I love you."

And with a kiss, I placed my screaming child in her crib. I closed the door without ceremony and walked out of the room; she was asleep before I hit the stairs.

Falling out of favor

She was in her bed, it was 8:00pm. She was put down for the night about 15 minutes prior.

She had been quiet, but suddenly a song came wafting down the stairs...

"Daddddddy.....I wuvvv you!!!"

She continued to repeat this song, over and over, sometimes changing Daddy to Mommy, but rarely as I am far less inclined to respond than he. We smiled at each other, thinking how cute she is, touched at her sweet and yet manipulative attempt to be free from her bed.

When we didn't come to her aid, the lyrics of the song soon changed:

"Elllll--mo....I wuvvvv you!!!!"


Oh how quickly we fall.

Fun times in toddlerland

This was our first week back to school after a two-week winter break as well as our three snow days prior to the break. Everyone has had to transition back into the regular routine. As such, this week has been a little "trying," to say the least.

Evie has been exercising her "independent" streak and as she has gone back to her "school" this week for the first time in three weeks, she also been showing some new "behaviors."

For example, Wednesday night, she found a paperclip in my school bag that was on the floor by the front door. I saw her running across the room, holding the paperclip above her head, victoriously. I told her to "stop, and hand me the paper clip please."

She replied, "NOOOOOO," and then tried to run away from me.

I grabbed her little arm, and pulled her to me, to "help her" let go of the paper clip.

I removed the paper clip from her fingers, telling her it was "not for Evie." This act caused her to flop her body on the floor like a possessed fish; she screamed, she shouted, she kicked the floor.

I walked out of the room.

So she got up off the floor and followed me, walked up to me and head-butted my leg. She then looked at me, eyes piercing.

I grabbed her by the shoulders, without speaking, and placed her, ever-so-gently, on the time-out mat. She sat quietly, pouting.

One might think I would have been angry at her for her hideous behavior, but truth be told, while I was annoyed that she was being so monstrous, I actually had to keep myself from laughing as she was being so absolutely ridiculous.

It was all I could do not to look at her and say, "Really? Seriously? All this over a paper clip? Looks like someone might need some anger management courses...I understand that office supplies are exciting, but this is just ridiculous!"



This evening, Bryan and I were sorting through Evie's clothes to determine what if any items in her wardrobe still fit her. As we sorted through the clothes from her dresser (and the two tubs of old baby clothes in her closet,) several piles of clothes had formed on the floor, one for keep, one that still fit and one for donation.

Evie was bouncing around the room happily,playing with her toys and pulling clothes from the piles. I think her favorite activity was messing up the piles while we tried to determine which items went were.

There we were, sitting in her room, sorting clothing, playing with Evie, reminiscing to when she was a tiny peanut. It was a nice quiet way to spend an evening.

Suddenly Bryan screamed "Stop!!! poo!!!"

He grabbed Evie by the hands and lifted her over the piles of clothing, like a monkey. We then stood her on top of her changing table where we proceeded to wipe her down, systematically.

It was a two-man job, and required keeping her on her feet for fear of making a bigger mess than there already was.

New ears

Evie had tubes put in her ears today.

We had to be at the hospital at 6:30, which meant leaving at 6:00am.

Bryan and I got up early, showered, ate a quick bowl of cereal and then whisked her straight from her bed to the car, still in her jammies.

Once at the hospital, we checked in and then had to wait until 8:00am for the recovery nurses to come on shift, so Evie spent a lot of time running around in the play room.


Finally, at 8:05am, they whisked her away to the operating room.

Approximately 10 minutes later, the doctor strolled out to the waiting room to tell us he was done and that she would be out shortly. Another 10 minutes, and she was being wheeled out on a little bed, very groggy and sad.



I picked her up and they did one final check of vitals before telling us we could take her home. It was 8:45 am, and we were out the door!

We came home and she went back to sleep for most of the morning; she woke up around 2pm and has been playing happily since then.

We'll keep her home tomorrow, just to keep her away from daycare germies for a day, and then we'll be back to the real world.

Enough to make you want to gouge your own eye out

As part of Bryan's severance from Chrysler, he had to give up certain things, including our life insurance.
Having watched too many Lifetime Original movies in my day, I was just sure that the day our life insurance ended, something catastrophic would occur. So I began shopping around for a very cheap, basic life insurance plan for the two of us, (mostly him) just to cover basic expenses, should something horrible ever occur.
After a couple weeks of giving information and receiving quotes, we settled on one small, but long-established company who only insures "safe, low-risk" people. Whatever.

And so began the arduous process of becoming insured. We told them all of our medical issues upfront, and they said it wouldn't be a problem, but we would be called by medical screeners for a 100-question interview in a few days.

I have since determined these so-called screeners are in fact robots, or people working for dark and evil forces, as my "10-15 minute quick questionnaire was enough to make me want to gouge my own eyes out.

After 25 minutes of asking invasive questions about my health including my pregnancies, my miscarriages, every treatment I received during my pregnancies, dosages etc., I had the following "conversation:"

Automated-sounding Screener (A-S-S-): "Ma'am, in the last 10 years, other than the things we have already discussed in this interview (migraine, anxiety, pregnancy complications,) have you ever been treated?"

Me: "What do you mean, treated? Treated for what?"

A-S-S: "Have you ever been TREATED?"

Me: "TREATED for what?!?" Anything?

A-S-S: "Yes."

Me: "Probably."

A-S-S: Ma'am, is that a yes?"

Me: "Sure."

A-S-S: "Ma'am, is that a yes?"

Me: "Yes, in the past 10 years, I have been treated for something."

A-S-S: "Ma'am, for what, and when have you been treated?"

Me: "I don't know, I've had a few sinus infections, probably a couple UTI's, maybe bronchitis. I really cannot remember."

A-S-S: "Ma'am, can you tell me when you were first treated for a UTI?"

Me: "NO."

A-S-S: "You cannot tell me when you were treated for a UTI?"

Me: "I cannot remember, I know I have most likely had one or two in the last 10 years, but I am also sure I cannot remember when, or for how long."

A-S-S: "Ma'am, can you tell me when you were treated for sinus infection?"

Me: "Every one?"

A-S-S: "Yes."

Me: "No. But I'm sure my doctor could tell you. I know I had one this summer, sometime around July-ish. Can't really be sure when. I don't know the dates for things like UTI's and sinus infections, but I'm sure my doctor has all of this information on file at her office.

A-S-S: "And what is the name of the doctor who would have this information?"

Me: "The same as all the previous questions- Dr. happy-feel good." She works as such and such office, and I don't have her phone number with me as I am not at home."

A-S-S: "And what is the address for the location for that doctor?"

Me: "As I just said, I don't have her phone number or address with me, I am not at home, you called me at school.

A-S-S: "And what is the phone number for that doctor?"

Me: (heavy sigh) I still do not have her phone number, I apologize. Again.

This conversation continued for another 5-10 minutes until he was done running down his list of questions, and then he said he was done and hung up. That was it.

Bryan is on the phone now...but his is going much quicker because he somehow got a human not a robot who doesn't ask the same questions a thousand times.

I get to have a face-to-face interview with an RN who will come and draw blood next. Good times.

A table fit for Liliputians

We became grown-ups today; we now have a real dining table, in an actual dining room.

After eating off my uncle's old wood patio table for the last five years, we finally decided (now that more than two of us eat at a table,) that we needed to have a real table where we could eat with other people, instead of taking shifts eating with Evie in the kitchen.

And so, after shopping for the last few months, we happened upon a dining set at Costco today that included eight chairs and the table/leaf. It was a good 40% less than any table we have looked at at any other store, or discount furniture warehouse. And so, we bit the bullet.

With the help of our friends and their truck, Bryan came home this afternoon with this:


The only problem? It's really tall...as in, made for giants; my feet don't touch the floor. We knew this when we bought it, we thought it would be kind of fun. I guess it is, and it it very nice and beautiful, except when you try to pull your chair up to the table and you can't because you can't reach.

It's not uncomfortable to sit at, as there are rungs on which to rest your feet, but if you feel the need to channel your inner liliputian, you can swing your legs to and fro and the table stands at counter height and thus, the chairs are the height of bar-stools.

I suppose it will take some getting used to.

Made for each other

We are on our way home, picking up Panda Express for dinner. There are several new businesses going in near our house and we are pointing them out to one another as we drive through the parking lot.

Me: "Hmm....'Closet Tailors,' custom closet, office & garage design and organization....very interesting"

Bryan: "I was more excited about the Day Spa!"

Me: "You are such a girl...."

Bryan: "What? I thought you liked the spa treatments you had the few times you went?"

Me: "And how many times have you been to a spa?"

Bryan: "No comment."

Me: "I rest my case..."

Me: "Oh, don't forget to stop @ the video game store and rent the 007 game for the Wii."

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Evie in her Christmas dress!

I was playing with Bryan's phone today at lunch and discovered this...

He had apparently taken this picture when visiting our friend's parent's home on Christmas Eve, while I was still at church singing in the second service.

I didn't know this picture existed until today.

Silly Bryan.