denise

Daily Dose of Kids – Paint

My father and I have something in common, we both hate to paint.  We both agree that the best part of living in military housing is the fact that we can tell our spouses or children – sorry, you can’t paint the walls because the military won’t let you.  I spent 20 years not having to paint bedrooms by simply using that nice little excuse.  Once, I violated those rules and allowed Jenn to put wallpaper border on her walls and then lived to regret it when the time came to strip those walls and get everything back up to "standards". 

Jenn lives in military housing with her husband, and has since she got married.  She ignored those rules and stenciled and painted and wallpapered up her military housing in NJ.  And then had to repaint everything military off white before she moved to Charleston.  You’d think she would have learned her lesson but no, she hasn’t.  She’s painted and stenciled and wallpapered up her new house.  We always use to tease her about being adopted – this is one of those reasons.  Neither the dirtbag or I would ever do that much work on a house that had to be repainted military off white in a few years.

So why am I doing it now, in a rental unit??  Letting these kids choose these incredibly dark colors?  Michelle had a mural on her wall for a couple of years that was every primary color plus black.  Her bedroom door is still a combo of black and red.  Now she’s got that deep teal green color, E has a light but incredibly bright blue and RJ has hit somewhere in the middle with a cross between the lighter blue and the deep teal.  And I’m exhausted.

Paint
E, RJ and I began painting around 10:30am.  After RJ and I spent an hour taping baseboards and frames.  Within 3 minutes of our project, E had decided sitting on the paint can lid was a good idea.  Then she stepped on it.  They both kicked the drop cloth so there was no drop cloth anywhere near the walls.  They rolled over the tape and onto the baseboard and frame.  No big deal.  Didn’t bother me at all.  But when RJ wiped up an "over-roll" as we call it with a rag we had used to wipe down filthy walls, I got a little tense.  When I looked down and saw she had dropped the filthy rag into the paint tray full of paint, I decided we all needed a break.  I took five.  The girls took the rest of the day.  And the half child wandered in just when I thought I might disinigrate into dust (there goes the plastination was what I was thinking). 

The boy took over the top half of the room while I worked the bottom.  Within half an hour it was DONE.  (Except clean up, I am always in charge of cleanup). 

Now we’ve got to deal with some spray painting of bookshelves this week, tracking down a dresser that will fit in her closet because she isn’t willing to get rid of any of her three bookshelves (or maybe an under the bed storage thing would work??) and get that painted her weird perriwinkle color.  Oh and she needs a desk chair.  I’m thinking she needs to paint one herself – an unfinished wooden chair that she can paint a seascape on or something would be fun for her. 

Now Prince J needs to choose his color and I need a couple of months to recuperate. 

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Daily Dose of Stuff – IKEA

Michelle’s IKEA furniture has arrived.  The wrong color.  In fact two wrong colors.  But, she’s over it and has decided that this is ok, maybe better than the original choice since her walls are so dark.  She and the half child and one of their friends put the dresser together in about 15 minutes.  I was impressed.  (Not that I’ve seen it, but impressed that it was done so quickly)  The half child and friend have left for band practice and Michelle is putting together nightstand number 1 – alone.  I’m waiting for the "mommmmmm, help meeeeee" from the top of the stairs…

***Update – within about 3 minutes she was at the door asking for help. We put together a MALM nightstand and the IVAR TV Stand. I wanted to do the second MALM nightstand but she was done for the night. Tomorrow leaves the MALM bed, the other nightstand and the NORREBO shelf unit. You can see the first round of photos here. The boys were a little weird. 1/2 child whispering IKEA magic words into the friend’s ear? Hmmm

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Money

I’m not a fan of money. In fact I hate money. Money is the root of all evil, along with gendered bathrooms. And yet, (see there’s that phrase already), money items are on my 101 things to do in 1001 days list. I’ll probably never manage most of them but I should get some credit for having put those things in my list. It indicates I’m at least thinking about money.

Dave Barry’s Money Secrets is about my speed. I much prefer his ideas to the “real thing”. They make about as much sense to me. Someone shoot me if you ever hear me talk about reading a real book about money management, ok? Because that would mean I’m ready to be plasticined and I’d appreciate being helped to the next level. Even Barry’s Money Secrets was too much money talk for me, at points, and I had to put it down and go back to ignoring money completely.

In fact, if I didn’t like Dave Barry, I probably would not have read more than the introduction. But I do like Dave Barry so I read the whole thing. And liked it, in the same way I like a good Dave Barry column. Some chapters (or sections of chapters) were better than others – as is true of all Dave Barry columns. Some chapters (or sections of chapters) were pretty bad in that “Airplane” movie sort of slapstick comedy way. (I hate Airplane and any movie with Leslie Nielson playing some idiotic comedy role)

If you enjoy Dave Barry in the Sunday paper (or on his blog) then you’ll probably enjoy Money Secrets. If you don’t like Dave Barry then try a Suze Orman book instead.

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Daily Dose of Death – Bodies – Museums

I guess you know that we went to Tampa last weekend, right?  I didn’t forget to mention it?  Oh good.  It wasn’t all late nights in bars with a lot of dykes and cool stuff like that, it was educational too.  (Not that late nights in bars with a lot of dykes isn’t educational, because it definitely is.  Michelle always learns a lot about how NOT to behave, about why it’s NOT good to get falling down drunk and then there are all of the lessons you can learn by visiting bathrooms with drunk people – those are serious educational moments, important to every teenage girl’s growth and development)  Where was I?  Oh yea, educational.  Right.  OK fine, I cannot tell a lie.  The trip wasn’t about education at all.  It was pure selfishness on my part.  Any lessons learned or knowledge absorbed was purely accidental. 

The trip to MOSI was for me.  Not for Michelle.  Surely not for TW, she’s been there before.  Seeing the Bodies exhibit was for me.  Because I want to be plastinated or plasticized or whatever the process is called when I die.  I do.  I’m not kidding.  I never joke about death.  OK fine, I do joke about death but in this case I’m not joking.

We read Stiff last year and it was then that I decided that this was what I wanted to do, or have done, after I die.  No cremation, I want to donate my body to a plastination exhibit.  There’s a problem though, according to the Stiff book, when you donate your body you don’t always get to decide how it’s actually used.  So I have to figure out how to make sure that I’m not donated to a forensic school and left out in a field somewhere.  (the little kids found this idea fascinating over the summer – because I made the mistake of telling them about dead bodies and flatulence and stuff but it’s not my idea of a good time so no – that is not what I want to happen to my body when I’m dead)

OK so now that you know WHY we went to MOSI to see Bodies, I’ll tell you about the actual exhibit. 

It was cool.  Smaller than I expected but cool.  As I expected, by the second room Michelle was feeling "ill".  Hypochondria is alive and well.  Though I suspect there are a lot of people who begin to feel ill or at least feel their "bodies" a little bit more while at that exhibit.  She really didn’t like the blood room aka the circulatory system room.  I, however, thought that was pretty cool.  I have a thing for blood though. 

Here are some things that bugged me about the exhibit.  First, lack of female bodies.  Do women not donate their bodies to this?  Is it not done, for some reason?  The bodies were overwhelmingly male.  Next issue, almost all of the bodies had black lungs.  Does this mean that the only reason people die is because they have lung cancer and/or are smokers?  By the 5th black lunged body I was feeling like I was in some stop smoking organization’s propaganda website.  Weird.

And somehow Michelle and I missed the plasticized fetus room, I blame a weird woman who decided to tell everyone that her urethra is smaller than the normal urethra – at first I thought she was talking about her clitoris but no, it was her urethra and I got distracted.  I should have gone back inside to see it but by the time TW informed me that I’d missed it, we were upstairs and pining away for the bicycle high wire thing and it felt like too much work to go back down and explain my predicament to the weird guy (who reminded me of Kirk on GG) so I could go back in.   Oh well, another time maybe.

Now about the woman with the smaller than normal urethra – what is it about that exhibit that made people feel like they needed to share their health history with everyone in the room?  Or the health history of their great aunt ____ who had ____ and this is what it must have looked like? 

What was also a little scarey were people who don’t have any idea about anatomy or how things work.  People in awe that the stomach was that small or the intestines that large.  Or the fallopian tubes, 50 year old men and women should both know what the fallopian tubes do.  You people scare me! 

The best best best question I heard while in the exhibit was from a child, probably around 7 or 8.  "Mama, why aren’t there any children?"  The look on mom’s face as she tried to come up with an answer was good.  I wish I knew what she said.  I hope she gave her a good answer.  Not an "I don’t know" or "They don’t do that to kids" or "Kids don’t die" sort of answer.  A real answer.  The kid deserved it.

Oh and to the woman in the wheelchair who pushed her way through the folks enjoying various displays, your disability does not give you the right to be rude.  Nobody barred your way, nobody pushed past you to get to the exhibit first – they were there before you and when they moved to the next one it would have been YOUR turn.  Quit it.  That behavior is unnecessary and not appreciated.

Cool exhibit.  Knowledge was gained, totally on accident of course.  And now Michelle has a real idea about what will happen to dear old mom when she’s dead.

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And Yet….

And yet… that’s a good phrase, I like it. I think I’ve always liked it but never used it much. After last night it’s likely “And yet…” will become one of those family phrases, like the ones I blogged about last month.

This entry about Elie Wiesel is difficult. I could talk about Oprah. I could talk about Night. I could talk about disinterest. I could talk about hate. I could talk about education. But where to start, how to start? It’s difficult, and yet, it isn’t.

When Oprah announced Night would be her next book club choice and would also be her High School Essay selection I changed Michelle’s reading schedule and I did the thing I always gripe about people doing – I bought the book. Because Oprah said to. And I hated doing it but I really was impressed with the selection, for the essay contest in particular. Even if homeschoolers were not eligible to enter, I felt like it was a good valid selection and important for Michelle to read – because of the book itself and because hundreds of thousands of high schoolers would be reading it. They would have this experience and I think it will be important that Michelle have some of the same types of experiences. So, I bought an Oprah book because Oprah said to do it. Blah.

Michelle started reading it. She got about halfway through it before TW and I had even made it to the German occupation of Sighet, on audio. Michelle’s birthday weekend in Atlanta arrived and we all started over at the beginning and listened to the first 3 hours on audio. iRiver malfunction left us wondering what happens next…. Michelle finished reading, I finished listening and TW has not yet finished (my fault for listening without her).

Oprah is right, everyone should read Night. Actually let me change that. I think everyone should listen to it on audio. The voice was not Elie Wiesel’s voice, but it could have been. I don’t generally feel that way about audio books, I enjoy them but I enjoy reading the actual words myself more. I think in this cause, the audio made the story stronger, maybe stronger isn’t the right word. It’s already a strong book, how could it not be? The voice reading the book, made it harder to detach.

Seeing Elie Wiesel last night at UF did so as well.

He didn’t talk about Night, the writing of it or his experience in the Holocaust in any real detail. But as he spoke about hatred, about politics, about religious history and religious differences it seemed impossible to put Night or the Holocaust away. When I looked at Elie Wiesel or listened to him (because the nonstop flashes from the cameras made it difficult to look at him) his history is there. It’s difficult to describe.

Things that stuck with me after last night’s talk… Disinterest is the opposite of just about everything… Fanaticism could be the biggest issue we face in this century… Education isn’t just in the classroom. Education is reading everything – books, magazines, internet. It’s talking to friends and coworkers and acquaintances and listening to them. It’s sharing of ideas and experiences. It’s watching television and movies and not just the news. Education is sensitizing yourself so you are better able to understand other people, other ideas, other feelings… Elie didn’t tell his publisher he was being interviewed by Oprah 10 years ago and his publisher was mad. He didn’t understand. This year, Oprah told people to read his book and it sold millions, he understands now…

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Daily Dose of Stuff – Meme

Like Lee, I’m late with my What’s This Doing in My House Monday.  Weird since I’ve been planning this since last Monday!  (Michelle thinks I should put a photo of the 1/2 child up here with "What is THIS doing in MY house" but you all know why he is here, right?)

Anyway here is my submission… anyone care to guess what this is….or who these people are?

Stuff

Photo on the left, my ex g/f.  Her photo sits in the living room on the second shelf with other family photos.  The photo on the right  is my ex g/f’s children and her niece and nephew.  For almost a year that photo was in the living room, on the dresser next to TW’s side of the bed.  Now it is in the bedroom on the cubby next to my side of the bed.

Do you have photos of your ex and his/her children around?  Relatively common if you share children, but the almighty and I share no children and still I keep the photos on display…

Do you have a "What is this doing in my house" entry to share?

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Minivans – Bad!

For Whom the Minivan Rolls was funny! Really funny actually. Maybe it’s just me though, has anyone (besides TW) read it? Work from home dad who is a freelance writer. Special needs son. Cute daughter. Sexy lawyer wife. Small somewhat snobby NJ town. And all of a sudden someone wants him to be a detective and find a missing wife? Ha, funny!

I’d almost suggest this as a beach read, even though I don’t really understand that phrase very well. I don’t read at the beach, maybe that’s why I don’t understand it? If you’re looking for a funny mystery with twists and turns that while predictable in places are still a wee bit quirky then this is a good one. Sort of like Dexter but without the blood and gore and stuff – almost spoofy. I think if you’ve read Dexter, you’ll understand what I mean. If you haven’t read Dexter, well do that and then read Minivan!

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Daily Dose of Music – Melissa Ferrick

Since I blogged earlier this morning about Glen Phillips opening for Melissa, everyone can assume we did in fact see Melissa at Skipper’s in Tampa on Friday, right?  Folks you should know by now NEVER to assume such a thing but in this case, you would be right.  We did see Melissa but not without some concern that she "got off the boat". 

Glen started his set at 8:30, playing to a packed house (can you call an outdoor bar a "house"? I guess you can since I just did) with people still in line outside buying tickets.  A couple of songs into the set someone came out and handed him a note.  I figured once again someone had parked in a bad spot and he was going to have to ask the folks with the white mercedes to move.  But no, apparently Melissa was in fact going to make it – there had been some doubt!?!  News to us and the hundreds who were waiting in line to buy those tickets but that’s a blog post for another day… Glen played on.  And played on.  And played on.  An hour goes by and he finishes only to come back out for an encore since Melissa was looking for a place to park?  (Weird since Melissa generally tours with her opener as in tours in the same vehicle – how did Glen manage to make it but Melissa didn’t?  Did she go out to buy his socks and get stuck in traffic?)  He finishes his encore and the radio station folks get up to talk about their station and their raffle and assure us Melissa will be out soon, she’s getting ready.

Another 45 minutes pass and the radio folks come out again (no sign of Melissa’s gear at all…) to give away their raffle prizes.  15 minutes later we get the first reassurance that we might, in fact, see Melissa – mics are changed, gear is brought out and there she is… orange sweatshirt and a couple of hospital wrist bands dangling from her left wrist.  Hmmmm

Soundcheck
She sets up quickly, sound checks quickly and quickly tells us that she is sick and asked them to fast track her ’cause she had to play tonight because there were so many people waiting… and play she did.  In the sweatshirt, wihch was odd – not the orange that both she and Michelle were troubled by, just the sweats in general was odd.  She didn’t chat much with the crowd and when she did, her voice was quiet and tired and shakey.  She didn’t drink near enough water during the set – she never does but when you’re sick… (I only play a doctor on the internet folks, but dehydration is not something to screw around with)…

Hard
Did I mention she played?  She did.  She played hard.  She had no visible set list (unusual).  She played an interesting mix of songs.  Not many new ones which I was both disappointed and appreciative of – I’m not overly fond of the new ones thus far but hearing them live, more often, would probably help that…

She likes playing at Skipper’s and Skipper’s likes her. Playing sick, and she definitely was sick – the wobble and grab for the monitor at the end was definite proof if anyone had doubts – but her performance on Friday is the sort that leads us to feel the Melissa groupie lust.  It’s the type of performance that makes us think about whether we could manage a trip to Lake Worth for the Saturday show.  Whether we could handle the drive home after the Freebird Live show in Jax. Whether we could take Tuesday off work and Wednesday, too, for the show at the only bar I’ve ever considered worth going to. 

Groupie
Melissa did what she does best, she put everything she had to give into her music and we got to experience it.  (more photos here)  Thanks Melissa – feel better, and if you don’t – then get off the boat and take a break, we do still love you when you need a break to take care of yourself. 

**edited to add…Melissa has cancelled her shows through the 11th but is scheduled to appear (I’m guessing this isn’t a performance) at the Delray Film Festival where Decade will be screened.  Both the cancellations and the film festival are good, in my opinion.   FYI Glen Phillips will still perform at the previously scheduled events so don’t get a refund, go and enjoy Glen!**

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