Becoming Mary Poppins

Romance Chez Mary

2009-02-16T20:20:00.002-05:00

Valentine's Day has come and gone. One of the difficulties one faces while raising children in a semi-impoverished state (such as my own), is that finding the means to go out for a special evening with one's spouse is a rarity. Babysitters after all, charge money. And the last time when I tried to pay with a combination of monopoly money, a private Hannah Montana-style concert starring yours yours truly, as well as private tutoring in the dance moves made famous on High School Musical, I was thoroughly rebuffed (yes I can perform the dance to "We're All in This Together." Furthermore, I have performed it on stage in front of an auditorium of parents and peers. Just one of the perks of being a dance teacher to young kids). Teenagers these days are so picky. Come to think of it, I probably wouldn't have taken that deal as a teenager either. So this weekend Bert and I found ourselves babysitter-less for Valentine's Day.
The ever-resourceful person that I am, however tried to make up for this by lining up a babysitting exchange with a neighbor. By the way, a babysitting exchange is exactly what it sounds like. I agreed to babysit my neighbor's kids one night while she and her husband went out, and she in turn agreed to watch my kids while Bert and I went out. Unfortunately when we ro-sham-bo'd for the date night, I lost (no, we didn't actually play paper, rock, scissors to determine who would go out on Valentine's Day. How juvenile do you think I am? On second thought, don't answer that question. I did, after all just confess to knowing the choreography from High School Musical). It was determined that Bert and I would go out on the unlucky Friday the 13th and we would join the ranks of unpopular high school girls by babysitting on the most romantic day of the year. Except, unlike high school girls, I am popular and I would be performing this service for free. Lucky me.
Last week my sweet Duet caught a slight cold and was snoring at night. Poor Duet. Poor Mary. One of the difficulties one faces while raising children in a semi-impoverished state (such as my own), is that you end up sharing a bedroom with your husband and your nearly 2 year old daughter because you cannot afford to live in a place that has 3 bedrooms. And before I go any further, let me preemptively answer the question that is on your mind: yes, we tried having Una and Duet share a room but Duet awakens well before dawn, and in doing so wakes up Una. In this scenario I find myself with 2 cranky children and a cranky personality of my own. By sharing a room with Duet, I subtract one cranky child from the mix (since Una isn't in close enough proximity to hear her wake up) and this makes life more tolerable for all.
Where were we?
Ah, yes. The snoring child.
So last week Duet's snoring was keeping me up at night. That would have been acceptable if she'd chosen to sleep in until a reasonable hour. But she was instead waking up at 5:00 every morning. So I was averaging 4-5 hours of sleep each night for 5 nights and not handling the sleep depravation very well. By Friday night there was one thing that I craved more than anything else. That thing didn't involve Bert in the slightest. More than a pseudo-Valentine's Day date on Friday the 13th, I wanted to sleep. So I called my neighbor and cancelled her services for the evening, took a unisom, bade Bert good-night, and climbed into bed at 8:00pm. You'd better believe I slept in until 8:00am the next day. Happy Valentine's Day, indeed. Who needs dinner, chocolate, flowers, heart-shaped jewelry, or teddy bears when they can have sleep? OK, so I maintain that no grown woman should ever receive a teddy bear from her beloved. Especially not on Valentine's Day. And heart-shaped jewelry? Really? I'm sure I would have thought it was pretty when I was 5 and my favorite colors were pink and purple. But now that I'm all grown up, I prefer Tiffany, and instead of pink and purple, I choose blue. Tiffany blue. For the record, I'll take dinner, chocolate, and flowers nearly anytime. Just not when I'm sleep deprived.
On Valentine's night a rested Mary headed over to the neighbor's house where she raided the refrigerator, texted her BFF's, spent hours on Facebook, channel surfed, and put off studying for her algebra midterm. Just like all of the other Valentine's Day babysitters.

Where's The Humor?

2009-01-25T21:03:00.004-05:00

Missing the funny posts? Me too. January's been insane. Bert's been gone for over half of the month and at the end of the day as a solo parent all I want to do is sleep. Hence, little time for blogging. On the nights he has been here, I've had something going on that's kept me out late. Sounds fun I know, but those events have included: CPR training, First Aid training, babysitting, picking up friends from the airport, and meeting with a group to finish a sewing project. Funny, the way that last sentence starts out, I sound like a teenager, then it takes a sudden shift and ends with me sounding like an old lady. For the record, I do not fit into either demographic. So, again the point here is I've had little time at home in the evenings to blog. Hence, my dearth of funny posts. If it's humor you're after (specifically something funny that I've written), may I recommend the following:

This fall hundreds of entries (so I'm told) were submitted and only the finest chosen for publication. I'm happy to have made the cut (I don't have much going on for me right now, so allow be to be proud of this one accomplishment. But since it's merely a self-published book, it's not even that much of an accomplishment. Anyone can self-publish. It's not like I've just been spotted by some famous publishing house and am on the road to stardom).
My copy just arrived in the mail and I must say that it lives up to its title. Something Cleverish, indeed. There are lots of funny vignettes inside and I'm sure you'll laugh. Even if you don't, your money won't have been wasted. I'm not out shamelessly peddling my wares. Let it be known that I don't receive any commission, cash, points, widgets, or any other item for selling this book. All of the proceeds go to the NieNie Recovery Fund.
Haven't heard of NieNie? Don't worry, I hadn't either until my friend Mrs. Furiou s introduced me to her story (long story short version: young mother of 4 suffered major burns over 80% of her body when she and her husband were in a private plane crash in August. Both have survived and are undergoing a major recovery effort, complete with major medical fees, hence the fundraising book).
Looking for a way to entertain yourself and help someone in need? Kill two birds with one stone (but not the pretty bird on the cover of the book), by buying Something Cleverish here.

Don't worry, folks. I'll be back with my A game before too long. This week's looking crazy too, but in the meantime you can enjoy reading my funny, original, never-been-posted story in Something Cleverish.

Oh Happy Day!

2009-01-20T22:45:00.003-05:00

I couldn't sleep last night, I was so excited. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve and, unlike the year I found out that Santa wasn't real, there were no disappointments when I woke up this morning. I've been wearing a smile all day long and I don't intend to stop any time soon. I'm giddy with excitement and pride, and so full of positive emotions right now. I'll try my best to write my thoughts, but I fear they won't be too articulate for I don't even know where to begin.

We started the day out by making Obama cupcakes so we'd be ready for our inauguration party. Look out Martha Stewart, you've got a some competition from a political nerd.Duet took an early nap, so she was in her crib for the oath and inaugural address. Perfect. Amazingly, Una watched the entire thing with me. Being able to eat cupcakes and ice cream in front of the TV, definitely helped to keep her happy.
What a powerful event. The excitement from the crowd as conveyed through the television was electric. I wish I'd been there, but my schedule wouldn't allow it.

Something amazing and historical happened today. We, for the first time have an African American president. Without downplaying how significant that fact is, I feel that Barack Obama is so much more than just that. I truly feel that he is a good man and a wise leader. I haven't felt that way about any president or candidate before. And I must admit, it feels incredible to have a leader in whom I have confidence, respect, and admiration. Call me idealistic, but there's something different about this man. He is outstanding and capable and I'm full of hope that he can bring our country together and get us on the right path again.

Earlier this week I was in a meeting about teacher training. One of the speakers stated that exceptional teachers do two things: teach their students who they are, and give them hope. I thought Obama's inaugural address did just that. He reminded us that we are a nation of diverse individuals founded upon the ommon principles of "honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism." He spoke of our current difficult times as well as some difficult moments in our history and then offered hope by reminding us that we are strong and have overcome so much and declaring that we can do it again.

He called upon us to be hard working and responsible and pledged that he will be the same. His history has already shown that he has been. He is effectively leading by example. Although there were somber moments in his speech, there was not a sense of despair, but one of hope. We are Americans and we can get through this. He'll lead us through. I've never felt prouder of my country or more patriotic than I felt today. I shed a few tears of joy throughout the proceedings.

Now it's nearly midnight and I've been watching inaugural news for the better part of the day. It's time I moved on to tomorrow. The beauty is, when I wake up he'll still be our president. I'll probably still pinch myself just to make sure I'm not dreaming.

By the way, did you see their first dance at the Neighborhood Ball where they were serenaded by Beyonce? Even through the fuzzy reception I get on my TV, I could see and sense the emotion. And I got teary eyed, again.

At Your Service

2009-01-19T14:53:00.003-05:00

I originally was going to title this post "Mary Poppins and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day(s)," but I'm trying to focus on the positive. Let's just say that in the last 4 days, everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong. Some highlights (just to name a few):
1. On Friday afternoon, waiting with my children for 2 hours at the pharmacy while my insurance company tried to fix a clerical error they made a few months ago that does not allow us to get prescriptions filled. Due to the long holiday weekend, the issue is still unresolved and we're still waiting to get Una's prescription. Luckily we're no longer forced to wait at the pharmacy. Even more luckily, it's not some urgent medication, like insulin, that she needs.
2. Making not one, but two trips to the car repair place to fix a problem that wasn't fixed properly the first time. Since Bert's not around this required the use of two different friends who helped me transport the cars (thank you D and K).
3. Hitting black ice on the freeway and spinning completely out of control into another lane entirely. Both the car and I emerged unscathed (but just barely). I narrowly missed getting hit by a large 4 wheel drive truck and a semi. Luckily I was alone and did not have my kids in the back seat. I can only imagine how traumatizing that would be for them.
And people, those are just a few of the highlights. It's been a constant stream of misfortune here at the Poppins household since Thursday afternoon. But as I said, I'm keeping this positive, so back to the "At Your Service" Post.
Today is national service day. I hope this isn't the first time you're hearing about it. Since Bert's out of town and I've got sole custody of the kids until he gets back later this week (much later, unfortunately), I haven't been able to go anywhere to do a service project out in the community. I have yet to find a terrific community service project to do with two kids in tow. Some places require that children be at least 16 years of age and other places wouldn't really be a suitable environment for Una and Duet. I did notice that a lot of organizations in my area are holding food and clothing drives for the needy, so I decided to participate that way. Una helped me choose some clothing and canned goods to donate and off we went. No, we weren't out there mingling with others in our community, but considering the two limitations I have, I think we've done pretty well for ourselves.
Join in the fun. The day's not over yet. Happy serving!

We're Good People

2009-01-16T09:59:00.004-05:00

So, I've been quite taken with this US Airways jet landing in the Hudson river story. Perhaps you've heard about it. So scary (especially as I think about Bert getting ready for two flights this week). Yet so miraculous. The hero of the day is the airline Cap'n. Out of respect, I should probably write "Captain," but out of respect for the cereal I know and love, I'm calling him Cap'n. Plus, the Cap'n and I have something in common so I feel that I can be a little more familiar with him. You see, I just found out that the Cap'n and I hail from the same hometown. I'm not saying that makes me a hero (although I did just get certified in CPR and First Aid, so you never know), but I'm pleased to be presented with more proof that great people come from my hometown. Mary Poppins, the Cap'n, Christy Turlington (don't pretend you don't know who that famous model is); it's an impressive group. So thanks, Cap'n for all your fine work and for making the people of Danville proud.

By the way, Wed night I managed to be in bed before 10:30pm and had a great night's sleep, thanks in part to Bert who woke up with little Duet (wh,o as you may recall, likes to wake up before the break of day). Trust me, I needed the clarity of mind that comes with a good night's sleep for on Thurs I encountered a lot of minor emergencies (such as a subbing job, a last-minute trip to the garage to get our car fixed that resulted in getting home well past our kids' bedtime). With all of the unplanned activity, I ended up staying up later than I'd hoped since I had a lot to catch up on. My bedtime was more like 11:00pm. Tonight I should manage to meet my goal.

Pardon Me, I Seem To Have Lost My Motivation. Have You Seen It?

2009-01-14T20:47:00.002-05:00

So it's pretty obvious that I've been neglecting certain things as of late. Like writing about my progress. I can explain. There hasn't been any progress to write about.
I was doing quite well staying on top of most things up until the Christmas season was in full swing and then I had to make some concessions. That's normal. That's part of life. Right?
Well, the trouble is I didn't bounce back after the holidays were over. I'm not exactly sure why. Yeah, I've been busy. But I was busy before too, and that didn't stop me from keeping up with my goals.
It's OK though. I'm ready to start anew now. And I'm not going to beat myself up over my lack of motivation the last few weeks.
It's midweek now, Wednesday to be exact, and I think I would profit from some consistent sleep. I'm hereby imposing a bedtime upon myself. 10:30, to be exact. Lights out, under the covers, no excuses.
The theory is, if I'm getting ample quality sleep, I'll have the energy I need to accomplish all of my other goals (like posting daily, for example. It's such a fun creative outlet for me, I really miss it when I let it slide).
So, I'm raising my nightcap (Mary Poppins-style--tonight it's a cup of herbal tea) to all of you. Here's to a restorative night's sleep. The first of hopefully many. And here's to the energy that will magically manifest itself tomorrow. I can hardly wait.

Chew on This

2009-01-08T21:50:00.001-05:00

Tonight I underwent some special training with a Little Anne doll so that I could become CPR certified. Now I can start a BSC with all of my BFFs and start advertising my qualifications and babysitting services on fliers distributed throughout the neighborhood (help me out here, folks. Tell me I wasn't the only one who read the Babysitters' Club series and dreamed of having my own such club). I haven't done any CPR training since I was a teenager. And as a throwback to my teenage years I guess, I was chewing gum tonight (not something I usually do these days). This proved to be a bit of a problem when I was practicing mouth to mouth on my friend Little Anne. Note to reader, it's not easy to give breaths while chewing gum simultaneously. Unfortunately I didn't think about this until I was mid-breath and the instructor was hovering over me, noticing that Little Anne's chest wasn't rising, and encouraging me to try again. I choked under pressure and swallowed the gum. That seemed to do the trick. Like a pre-teen girl develops seemingly overnight the summer between her 7th and 8th grade year (or in my case; the 11th and 12th grade year), Little Anne's chest started to swell. So did my pride. I'm kind of a CPR pro now, and I've got a signed card in my wallet to prove it.

Christmas in January

2009-01-06T23:18:00.000-05:00

As I've said before, I'm not big on dates. Now, don't interpret this to mean that I don't care if you forget my birthday. I do care. A lot. I love birthdays and firmly believe that they should be celebrated on the actual day of your birth. But when it comes to more minor holidays, I'm fine with celebrating whenever the mood strikes, or (more accurately) whenever the price is right. That's why our home is currently adorned with a lovely live poinsettia plant and a gingerbread house, 2 traditionally Christmas-related items that were conspicuously absent from our home during the entire month of December. When visiting a botanical garden (the indoor portion--I don't live in the tropics where January is ripe with flora) on Friday we were given a poinsettia upon exiting. For free. The best part is, we didn't even have to pay to get into the garden. So we commemorated our splendid free outing that afternoon with a free plant. I don't care that the rest of the christian world is tossing out their poinsettias now that Christmas is over. I'm proudly displaying my new plant.
Whilst (don't you sometimes wish you were British so that you could get away with writing uniquely British words and phrases? Since Mary Poppins is British, I'll take that liberty on this blog every now and then) grocery shopping at Trader Joe's on Saturday, I noticed they had gingerbread house kits on sale for $2.99. You couldn't make one from scratch for that amount. I know I've sworn off unnecessary nonconsumable purchases, even if they are a great deal, but I couldn't resist this one, for a few reasons:
a. it's really consumable. No, I'm not going to eat it, but in theory one could. If there were some kind of natural disaster in my area and we couldn't get out of our home to get food, this gingerbread house could sustain life.
b. it provided a great excuse for us to use up some leftover Halloween candy. Yes, you read that right. We still have Halloween candy lying around.
c. it entertained us all for a good hour or so. So when you break it down, $2.99/hour for entertainment for 4 people is not bad at all.
d. over the Christmas holiday, Una saw several gingerbread houses at homes we visited and was quite taken by them.
Monday was the day we worked on it and in the last 24 hours, only 2 pieces of candy have been picked off (for the record, not by me). Not bad, if I do say so myself.
Gingerbread houses in January? Why not? Una doesn't care when we did it, only that we got to do it. Let me tell you, I'm sure glad we performed that winter time ritual for $2.99 instead of $14.99.
Likewise, I'm thrilled that we waited until January to get a free poinsettia instead of paying for one just a few weeks earlier.
Suddenly I'm wishing that like David Sedaris's family, I were Greek Orthodox, so that I could celebrate several religious holidays a week or so after the rest of the world, thereby benefiting from the tremendous markdowns that occur the day after every major holiday.

I Woke Up, I Was So Glad

2009-01-04T19:20:00.002-05:00

The title for this post is a line from Best In Show. A terrific flick. But Waiting For Guffman is the best of the Christopher Guest shows.
This morning when I woke up I had 2 things to be glad about:
1. Duet actually slept in until 7:00am. It's been months since she's slept in this late.
2. As soon as we came downstairs this morning, Duet requested that we watch ABBA. As in the ABBA music videos we own and love. I was so proud.
There's something I've noticed about the second kid. At least our second kid. She's not as sheltered as her older sister was/is. You may remember that I'm not a big fan of TV. We only have an antenna and an old school TV set. Once the digital revolution hits in Feb, I'm not sure we'll be able to get any sort of signal at all, even with our nifty converter box. I'm not shedding any tears over the prospect of no TV. That suits me just fine, since it's simply not a big part of our lives.
Una, as the oldest child, didn't watch any DVDs until she was well over 2. She still has yet to see a full length movie--including the Disney animated movies. In fact, her real name is the same as a character in one of the famous Disney movies (no, it's not Ariel), and quite often people will ask her about the show and she has no idea what they're talking about.
Duet's a different story. Since Una was in a big Dora the Explorer phase for a couple of years, Duet was introduced to our TV set much earlier than Una was. And we've got a potential addict on our hands, folks. Every morning without fail the first thing Duet says when we come down the stairs is "Boots show" (as in Dora and Boots, her monkey amigo). As Una is outgrowing Dora and her bilingual crew, Duet is swiftly taking her place as the biggest Dora fan in the house. I don't like her watching a show every day so I usually try to engage her in another activity. Some mornings she throws a fit if she doesn't get her Boots show right away and, like the good parent that I am, I give in to her fit because hey, it's usually 6am and I don't want her waking the rest of the house.
This morning when "ABBA" emerged from her lips, you know I walked straight over the the TV and inserted the ABBA DVD. There was no need for a diversion. Why wouldn't I want her dancing and singing along to our favorite tunes?
Although she parted ways with Dora this morning, Dora's espanol influence still has a stronghold on our Duet. Duet's favorite ABBA song is of course, "Chiquitita," or "Tita" in her words. That is not to be confused with "Tito," her name for Tico the squirrel, also of Dora fame. I, however, wish that when saying "Tito" she was actually referring to Tito Jackson, from the Jackson 5. Maybe I'll have to get her interested in them. It's time to start teaching her her letters after all, and that ABC song just might do the trick.

A Riddle

2009-01-01T19:07:00.004-05:00

What do the following things have in common?

April 9, 2008
April 10, 2009
a school abacus
a centenarian
a football field
one meter
Benjamin Franklin's bill
Mary Poppins's blog posts

The number 100

April 9, 2008 (100th day of the year)
April 10, 2009 (100th day of the year)
a school abacus (100 beads)
a centenarian (100 years)
a football field (100 yards)
one meter (100 centimeters)
Benjamin Franklin's bill (100 dollar bill)
Mary Poppins's blog posts (this is my 100th post)

Tonight I'm Gonna Party Like It's 1999

2008-12-31T20:51:00.003-05:00

So I promised I'd write more today about my upcoming goals. Tis the season, after all what with New Year's Day and its obligatory resolutions staring me in the face. Out with the old, in with the new, and all that.
This may seem anticlimactic, but right now my plan is to pick up where I left off. I sort of dropped the ball on most of my vices over the last few weeks, but now that the holidays are over and I'm back in my home, I'm getting back in the saddle. Workouts, core program, decluttering, cutting back on sweets--here I come. I am happy to report that the moratorium on unnecessary spending never ceased. That was one habit that I stuck with over the holidays and we're all reaping the benefits. Smaller credit card bills, fewer things coming into my home adding to the clutter, less reliance on store-bought goods and activities--these are some of the positive changes I've noticed since beginning to cut back on spending back in October. It's been so long now that it's practically second nature to walk past the clearance bins and not peruse them in search of great deals.
2008 has been productive for me, in many ways because of the motivation I get from the blog. For one thing, I don't think I would be working out consistently, if it weren't for the obligation I feel to report on my progress. So I'm hoping that in 2009 I'll continue to become Mary Poppins step by step. But if I had to choose one overarching goal for 2009, it would have to do with simplicity. I want to simplify all areas of my life. If there's a simpler way to do something, I will do it. I'm sure I'll have more thoughts on that in the future.
So with that, I'm off to continue my New Year's Eve partying. Truthfully, Bert and I are known for having abysmal New Year's Eve celebrations. They started the New Year's Eve a few weeks before we got married, when we were vacationing with Bert's family. We got stuck at the home of a family friend with Bert's parents and without a car. Someone in our party rented a movie, but by the time they got to the rental place the only thing left was Crocodile Dundee 2 or 3 or 4 (did they even make a 3 or a 4? I can't recall; that's how memorable this movie was. There's a reason why some shows were picked over and left at the store).
Other highlights include:
The year our friends were going to meet us at a resort so we could celebrate together, but they got sick at the last minute and had to cancel;
The year we stayed up watching Ratatouille (note: if you're like me and detest rats, you won't enjoy a movie about animated rats, even if they do live in Paris and make good food);
The year I was hugely pregnant and felt ill, so instead of going out, I spent the night curled up in a giant ball watching TV (that was the year that I discovered the sitcom Arrested Development, which to this day is one of my greatest loves, so I guess that memory wasn't all bad).
I can't blame our crummy New Year's Eve celebrations on Bert. I was having them long before he was in the picture. On New Year's Eve 1998, I offered to babysit my sister's 7 month-old baby so that she and her husband could go out. That was extremely nice of me, if I do say so myself. I remember sitting in her apartment watching the ball drop and listening to Prince's song about 1999 play over, and over, and over, again. 10 years later, now that I've got kids of my own and someone to kiss at midnight, I'm asking "where's my free babysitter?"

Return From Christmas Hiatus

2008-12-30T18:40:00.002-05:00

And we're back. We arrived safe and sound. And exhausted. Tomorrow I'm going to post about my plans for the upcoming weeks. But tonight I'm going to get some sleep. Hopefully of the uninterrupted variety. Good night.

Merry Christmas, Darling

2008-12-25T22:14:00.002-05:00

Bert and I exchanged Christmas gifts with each other.

Now one of us gets to exchange it at the store.

You know what they say about great minds.

Merry Christmas everyone! May you have better luck giving and getting gifts this year than we had.

You Say Cheap, I Say Green

2008-12-22T22:28:00.004-05:00

So on Friday morning before leaving our beloved home, we had an early Christmas celebration with our family. Due to space issues, we weren't able to take all of the girls' presents with us, so we decided to exchange presents on a faux Christmas morning on the 19th. If you'll recall, I'm not that particular about dates, so this plan suited me fine.

In following the compact , we've been trying to avoid making a lot of purchases. With that in mind, Una got an IKEA easel we purchased for $9.99 and Duet got a hand-me-down rocking horse our neighbors gave to us for free when they moved. A second-hand toy, for Christmas? Indeed. But isn't that being a little too frugal? Cheap, even?

Here's what I love about the environmental movement (aside from the saving the earth bit. I totally love the saving the earth bit): no one argues with the idea of going green. Any effort one makes in that direction is accepted, no questions asked.

So when asked why I felt it was acceptable to give my child a second-hand toy for Christmas, I could have just explained about the compact, or simply said, "I'm frugal." I opted for this response instead: "We're going green this year by cutting back on unnecessary consumption. When we buy less, we are responsible for consuming fewer of the earth's resources, thereby reducing our carbon footprint." Note: it's very important that you utilize the phrase "carbon footprint." You always sound knowledgeable when using that phrase.

And suddenly, instead of a cheap mother, I'm an earth-saving heroine. Protecting the planet never felt so good.

Travelin' On

2008-12-20T22:28:00.001-05:00

For the next 10 days, Mary Poppins is in a different physical location. Thanks to the Internet, my virtual location has remained unchanged. After braving 2 snowstorms yesterday, our flight safely landed last night (3 hours late) and we are enjoying a jolly holiday with relatives. The not so jolly part is that we're dealing with a 2 hour time difference. With 2 kids, that translates into a nightmare. Today I spent over 3 hours actively trying to get Duet to fall asleep for her afternoon nap. Unsuccessfully. If 3 hours of rocking, singing, back rubbing, and snuggling couldn't lull her to sleep, I don't know what legal method could have. Call me when they start making baby unisom. I'll so be on board.

So Long, Deep Throat

2008-12-19T13:36:00.003-05:00

It's no secret that I love politics. In fact, I'm so into politics, that it borders on nerdy. At a dinner party last month someone made a comment about a giant, scary rabbit. Bert and I simultaneously said "maybe it was the one that attacked Jimmy Carter." No one appreciated it, but we thought we were hilarious. Later on when someone else mentioned hockey moms, Bert and I both looked at each other and blurted out "lipstick" and laughed hysterically while the whole table looked at us quizzically. Tough crowd. After Palin's "What's the difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull?" joke, the word "lipstick" will forever be linked with both hockey moms and pit bulls in my mind. So, when I looked at the New York Times online this morning and read about Mark Felt's death (aka Woodward and Bernstein's Watergate informant "Deep Throat") it brought back a memory from a couple of years ago.

Back in 2005 when Felt outed himself as Deep Throat, I was fascinated by the story. The revelation was huge. To me it was on par with having the question "who shot JFK?" answered (that is one great political mystery that remains). I'd always loved "All the President's Men" (if you haven't yet seen it, you should) and now that Deep Throat was out in the open I wanted to know more.

Around the same time, I was looking through our library catalog online at some of the most frequently requested DVDs. I stumbled upon the title "Inside deep throat" and requested it right away. Now I could learn even more about Mark Felt and his involvement with the Watergate investigation. When the request was ready for me to pick it up, I was thrilled to obtain it. Imagine my disappointment when I found the DVD and could immediately see from the cover that its content was not what I had originally conjured up in my mind. If I had only read the description online before hastily requesting to check the DVD out of the library: "Explore the secrets behind the sensational adult film. This film examines the politics and the payoffs, the porn stars, and the persecution of the cultural phenomenon that remains just as highly controversial today as when Deep Throat debuted in 1972."

And that is how my innocent political obsession led me to request a documentary about a porno flick (I think the official name for that genre is "pornumentary"). Needless to say, I left the DVD on the shelf and declined to actually check it out of the library. And to this day, I'm a little sad that it wasn't a documentary about Mark Felt, the anonymous informant with the porn-inspired pseudonym.

At Your Service

2008-12-18T21:10:00.004-05:00

So I declared that I was going to spend more time focusing on others this holiday season. It's been a worthwhile activity. In fact, I'd venture to say that the emphasis on service has allowed me to feel the true spirit of Christmas more than any other activity I've done: more than listening to Christmas music, more than putting up Christmas decorations, more than making Christmas goodies, more than wrapping gifts, even more than reading A Christmas Carol. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I've done all of those things this season, I just I'll admit that I haven't been able to do something every single day, but I have found some random act of kindness to do most days. Making service a priority has made me aware of opportunities that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. I know that Christmas is only a week away, but I plan to continue my service challenge long after the holidays have ended.

A Very Mary Christmas

2008-12-17T21:19:00.007-05:00

After 2 days of posting about lice, I don't know about you, but I'm ready to move on to something more pleasant.

For your enjoyment, here's a Mary Poppins Christmas themed photo essay:
This is my artistic shot. I had to tilt the camera at this angle to fit in all of the stockings. My Christmas Eve tradition: handcrafting stockings. Procrastinating to the last minute, I made Una's (red with the green tree) on Christmas Eve when she was 10 mos. old. I had plans to complete matching stockings for Bert and me as well. I didn't get around to them that year. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. Duet's (green with red candy cane) was completed right before her first Christmas. Mrs. Furious came over for a craft night and acted as my official stocking consultant on the remaining two (mine: red with green wreath; and Bert's: green with red star) in January '08. Although we've been married for nearly 7 years, this will be the first Christmas at which our whole family has matching stockings. Somehow Bert doesn't care about this as much as I do. I care enough to implore you to click on the photo to enlarge the image so you can see the details more fully. They're that impressive.

Our bookshelf is teeming with books, leaving no room for our seasonal book collection. Enter the red wagon. Now our Christmas books are part of a stylish display. As a bonus, it doubles as a book mobile. I grant you permission to steal this idea. It's a good one. No need to enlarge this photo. What you see here is what you get.

No, that's not me in the Santa costume, nor is this our official Christmas family photo. I got to play the role of the photographer. Apparently we did a sub-par job of prepping Duet for her first Santa visit. She's trying so hard to be brave but is clearly losing that battle. Click on the image to fully witness the fear in her face. Even Santa's magic keys didn't help console her.

And finally, what could be sweeter than darling girls donning their Christmas dresses? Do NOT enlarge this one. Una has some creepy red eyes that totally detract from the overall theme. It suddenly goes from sweet to scary.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Nit-pick, You Nitwit

2008-12-16T18:00:00.005-05:00

In the comments to yesterday's post, Shobe suggested that I should have called the nit-infested child's guardian so that she could have been picked up. In retrospect, I wish I had thought of that. But since I was the afterschool dance teacher, you'd think the regular teacher would have addressed the issue earlier in the day, wouldn't you? Since this was my first encounter with such an issue and it could unfortunately come up again in the future, I was curious to know what the protocol is for our public schools.

I've been doing a bit of research and I'm stunned. First the obvious: Kids with lice cannot attend school and are welcomed back to the classroom after the lice are gone. Good to hear. I read in one place, however, that the Department of Education is very interested in minimizing the amount of instructional time missed by students with lice, so they recommend that a child diagnosed with lice during the school day be allowed to remain in class with other students until their parent can come and get them. By all means, let's keep the lice-infested kid around longer giving him/her a better chance to infect more students who will then have to miss school until they're lice-free. That's some pretty sound logic there, Department of Education. Isn't that what the nurse's office is for? A glorified waiting room where you can rest away from the other children until your mom or dad can come and get you? Honestly, does anyone even use the nurse's office for anything other than that?

Until recently, most schools had a no-nit policy which means that children with nits aren't allowed at school either. Makes sense, doesn't it? If you're trying to contain the infestation of lice, you'd want to keep both the lice and their eggs out of the schools because (now this is some advanced biology here, so read carefully) lice eggs develop into lice. Well schools are no longer advocating a no-nit policy stating that "there is no scientific basis to confirm the effectiveness of such programs." Our schools don't have a no-nit policy so sadly I don't think I could have sent my student home.

However unscientific a no-nit policy may be, it makes sense to me. I might have to start some no-nit crusade once Una starts kindergarten. I don't want lice and/or nits around because a. they're gross, and b. I'm lazy. Recommendations I found online for getting rid of lice include these: "Comb through hair using a fine-tooth lice comb and/or two fingers sliding the nits off of the hair shaft ("nit-picking"), until all or most lice and nits are gone. This can take 1-8 hours according to one shampoo manufacturer! Complete nit removal is time-consuming but is critical for successful treatment. Sometimes a haircut can help speed up the process."

Have you seen this gorgeous hair?
Do you think de-lousing those tresses would be on the 1 hour end of the scale or the 8 hour end of the scale? I'm guessing 8. And for the record, I'm not eager to cut it off just because some kid was allowed to come to school sporting lice eggs as a hair accessory. His/her nitwit of a parent should have nit-picked his/her hair before sending their kid back to school, nits intact.

Oh, and as of now, I'm no longer going to use the phrase "nit-picking," "nit-pick," or "nit-picky" in everyday vernacular. I didn't realize its origins and now that I know, I'm more than a little grossed out.

Workout update: I did workout this morning. It was not pleasant. 35 minutes into it I had a sneezing fit, but I persevered. Because of my congestion I could feel and hear the fluid in my ear canal thumping each time my feet did a revolution on the elliptical. Unless there are some serious changes in my health status tomorrow, I'm not going to subject myself to that again. I'll take the advice of Amydear who wrote in Sunday's comments that I should let my body feel better. First Shobe, then Amydear. As you can see, I take comments seriously.

Have a Lice Day

2008-12-15T20:47:00.003-05:00

I got another call this afternoon from my boss asking for (you guessed it) a last minute sub. This time it was for an after school dance class that I've taught before so it required no prep time whatsoever. I just needed to be at the school when classes ended for the day and dance with the kids for 45 minutes. Since I'm the world's best employee I said yes. I really need to learn how to say no.

Things were going well until about 5 minutes into class when I was doing a brief introduction exercise with the elementary school age girls. When asked what she did over the weekend, one of the girls (I'll call her Lacey) said "well we were going to go to our cousin's house but we found some nits in my hair (as in head lice eggs) and so then we couldn't go." Grateful to be sitting across the room from her, I asked the obvious "if you found some nits, then why are you at school?" I then thought (but did not repeat out loud), "If your relatives, who ostensibly love you, don't want you around them when you're nit infested, you can bet this stranger is not happy to be in the same room with you for the afternoon." Lacey then said something about how the nits hadn't seemed to change over the course of 4 hours, so it was OK to be there. Her attempt at reassurance didn't soothe me at all. I was grateful Una, with her golden locks that I'm sure any louse would be pleased to call home, was not with us. I managed to keep my person and Duet away from Lacey for the remainder of the class. Now I'm focusing my energies on asking Santa to keep us lice-free this holiday season. Does Santa answer requests like that?

They do not pay me enough to put up with this crap.

P.S. I'm so congested today I can barely breathe through my nose. I put the workout on hold for today but I'm hoping I can breathe well enough to do it tomorrow. I did manage to deliver some Christmas treats to my boss and co-workers. Some might call that ass kissing. I call that service.

I Suck. Now Wish Me Luck.

2008-12-14T20:04:00.003-05:00

Well, if you've been checking out my stats in the sidebar (see "How Well is Mary Poppins Progressing?") this week, you may notice that for the first time since I started this blog I have failed to meet my workout goal. I'm disappointed, but I'm not going to beat myself up over it. It's been a hectic week with Bert gone, Duet sick, Duet getting me and Una sick, etc, etc, etc. The truth is, I could make excuses all day, but that doesn't change the fact that I didn't do it.

When I make it a priority, it happens. I've certainly found that to be the case for everything in life. Overnight I went from someone who never exercised to someone who exercised for 40 minutes at least 4 times a week. Nothing changed except for my priorities. Once I decided that it was important to work out, I made it fit into my schedule. Suddenly I was willing to work out in the morning, the afternoon, or the evening depending on my schedule. I was flexible and I made it happen, Cap'n. This last week I let other things get in the way.

I am going to try harder this week to complete my workout goal. I'm also sticking with the service, because it's been fun to spread Christmas love. In the same week can I be both a jolly service-rendering bringer of Christmas cheer and a hard-core cardio workout enthusiast? We shall see. No, I'm going to be more optimistic than that. I'll embrace the slogan we didn't get to hear enough of this year; yes we can. Or more accurately; yes I can. Wish me luck.

Tradition! (to be sung in the dramatic "Fiddler on the Roof" fashion)

2008-12-13T20:22:00.004-05:00

My parents like to pretend that we're a Swedish family. In all fairness, they have lived in Stockholm for several years and back in the day I had some ancestors who emigrated from the land that brought you ABBA, Ace of Base, the Cardigans (did you know that music is one of Sweden's top exports?), H&M, IKEA, meatballs, Volvo, SAAB, and the Swedish Chef (OK, so technically the Swedish Chef does not hail from Sweden). If I add it all up and am generous with the math, I think I might be 1/16th Swedish. But what an important 1/16th it is!

In Sweden December 13th is Santa Lucia Day. If you're a real Swede, the oldest daughter takes sweet rolls to the family in the early morning while wearing a white dress with a red sash and a wreath on her head containing burning candles. If you're a fake Swede like me, you ignore some of the more dangerous elements of the tradition and celebrate by waking up early to have a nice breakfast, which usually consists of homemade cinnamon rolls, fruit, and hot chocolate. That may not sound like an impressive spread to many of you, but when you're used to cereal and milk every day the Santa Lucia breakfast is a big deal.

I didn't plan on celebrating Santa Lucia on the 13th this year since Bert's out of town. I thought we'd do our fake Swede traditional breakfast on Sunday, substituting Trader Joe's chocolate croissants for homemade cinnamon rolls (thank you Trader Joe's for making a product that is both ridiculously easy and incredibly delicious). Duet's inner fake Swede (you know that 1/32nd part of her) must have really been in full force this morning because she woke up at 4:45 am; well before the light of day. Since my toddler-sized wreath of burning candles was packed away I opted not to place it on her head. Una's inner Swede was also hard at work, for, sensing it was Santa Lucia day, she too woke up an hour later, well before her usual wake up time. Since everyone was already awake so early and it was the 13th of December, I decided to celebrate Santa Lucia anyway.
Happy Santa Lucia everyone! The Trader Joe's croissants are conspicuously absent because you have to thaw them out overnight and as I mentioned earlier this was a spontaneous Santa Lucia breakfast. Instead the girls got to drink juice. That's kind of a special occasion drink around here. It reminded me of that scene from "So I Married An Axe Murderer:"

Rose Michaels: What would you say to silver dollar pancakes, fresh squeezed orange juice, bacon, and Kona coffee?

Charlie Mackenzie: Well, that sounds great.

[scene changes to her pouring Charlie a bowl of Fruit Loops]

Rose Michaels: Sorry, I didn't have those other things.

By the way, I unearthed this gem from www.sweden.se: "The Official Gateway to Sweden:" "Sweden is an egalitarian place these days so any child can be chosen as Lucia for the annual procession at the local daycare centre, not just pretty ones with long blonde hair." Phew. I know that I for one, will rest better tonight knowing that Santa Lucia equality has finally been reached. It melts my heart to know that somewhere in Sweden today an ugly dark-haired preschooler fulfilled her dreams as Santa Lucia. I hope she didn't burn her brown hair off.

I Need a Fix

2008-12-12T19:09:00.003-05:00

One of the benefits of not being a homeowner is that when something breaks, I am not responsible for fixing it. There's only so much responsibility one person can handle, after all. I'll gladly shoulder the responsibility for my 2 children, mumblemumblemumblethousands of dollars in student loan debt, and our matching Honda Civics (oh, you didn't know that Bert and I have matching cars? It's true. We're that cute), but I'm not eager to jump into bed with the concept of home ownership. Not because I have commitment issues. But because I don't want to be responsible for fixing anything. I can barely muster the strength to fix my hair, Una's hair, and Duet's hair each morning. I don't want the added pressure of fixing toilets, faucets, outlets, and anything else that will go wrong the moment I sign my (to borrow a phrase from "Santa Baby") "x on the line" on those mortgage papers. So for now I'm content to be a renter. I know this means my status as a verifiable grown-up is now debatable. But I can live with that, just as long as I don't have to live with the responsibility for fixing things.
So this morning when I discovered a trifecta of broken items (blinds, toilet, bathroom ceiling fan), I was pleased to pass the buck and call the maintenance department at our apartment complex. When the maintenance worker showed up we were about to venture out to the library (I know, we live the most exciting lives) but since Bert is out of town (yet again) and I'm starved for adult interaction, I figured I'd stick around and chat with her for a bit. She was quite lovely and in the end I gave her a 1/2 dozen Christmas cookies that I made (does that count as service? I'm saying yes). Rest assured, if it had been this guy, no Christmas cookies would have been offered. Period.
Too bad it's going to be awkward on Monday when I have to call them back to send someone out here to fix the fan again. I don't know what she did, but that thing is now turbo charged and shakes so violently that I'm fearful it will come flying right out of my ceiling. I don't like the sound or looks of it. Oh well, at least I'm not the one in charge of fixing it.

Just When I Thought I'd Failed...

2008-12-11T19:54:00.003-05:00

Edited to add this:
Beware--the following post is the lamest one I've ever written. Of course I would happen to post it on the day the announcement was made that my entry was picked to be in the humorous blog book that's being published to benefit Nie Nie. This is the kind of impeccable timing I'm known for. I can assure you that although this post is a total snoozer, my entry was funny.

You want funny?
Go here to read about the inspiration for this year's Christmas card photo and then here to see how amazing my family and I look dressed in tin foil. Yes, you read that right. Tin foil.
Or here to learn how with one 3-word sentence I successfully managed to make my daughter terrified of her father and his professional skills.
Or here to discover why you would never want to take me anywhere in public, particularly to the Special Olympics, or any other place where I might encounter someone who's differently-abled.

That's enough for one day. No need to read below this dotted line. It's really not worth anyone's time.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
At around 5:00 this afternoon I was lamenting the fact that I hadn't yet done my service for the day. My house was in shambles (and still is--that's why this post is so short), I hadn't done my workout or the Core Program as I'd hoped to, and I hadn't left the house except to pick Una up from preschool and take Duet for a walk. I was feeling like a bit of a loser until I realized the reason for my lack of accomplishments today. I hadn't done anything on my list because I'd spent the day focusing on Duet.
Poor Duet has been sick and more demanding than usual. However, she hasn't been demanding in an annoying way. My child who typically climbs her way through the day, spent a good part of the afternoon snuggling with me on my lap reading books. It was a treat to be able to actually sit still with her and spend some one-on-one time together while Una was at preschool. After reading, I took her on a long walk in her stroller so she could get some much needed fresh air. It was during said walk that I realized that although I hadn't managed to accomplish my workout goal or the Core Program, I had indeed spent the whole day in service.
I often forget that service doesn't always have to benefit those living outside of my home. There are plenty of service opportunities within my own family. No one needed my help more than Duet today. And I'm glad I was there to give her what she needed.

If You Build It, They Will Come

2008-12-10T22:29:00.003-05:00

So I'm not exactly talking about plowing over my cornfield on my Iowa farm and erecting a baseball diamond in its stead. But just as Kevin Costner took a leap of faith in "Field of Dreams," so did Mary Poppins in this Christmas service challenge. Did my man Kevin know that throngs of baseball fans would appear if he built the field of dreams? No, but James Earl Jones and others had faith that they would come.
I started this last challenge in a very un-Mary-like way. Instead of having a set plan to accomplish the service each day, I just held on to the hope that opportunities would arise. And they have arisen, my friends. Take yesterday for example, when I spontaneously had the chance to babysit a neighbor child while her parents prepared the house for their move next week. There was also the phone call that I got from a different neighbor who needed help clearing some things out of her basement. Done and done. That's two in one day.
Today I picked up an item for my neigbor with the broken foot while I was out running errands. Tomorrow I was supposed to babysit for another neighbor who had surgery today, but poor Duet came down with a nasty virus so we're quarantined for the day. Normally I might be a bit concerned that I don't have a service plan for tomorrow, but I'm optimistic that something will manifest itself. I'm giddy with anticipation just thinking about the prospect.
Reading over this, I'm realizing that I live in a pretty needy hood. I guess the moral is you should all be grateful you're not my neighbor since there's some pretty crazy stuff going on right now: broken apendages, international relocations, surgeries, etc. Maybe I'm living in an unlucky location. If only I knew more about Feng Shui, maybe I could turn this place around.

God Jul!

2008-12-09T22:46:00.003-05:00

That's Swedish for Merry Christmas!

Behold the ABBA inspired Christmas photo:

As you can see, Duet was not into it. Una, on the other hand, was thrilled to attempt an ABBA photo shoot reenactment.

In the end, we decided this might work out a bit better:

May your days be merry and bright (not unlike our costumes).
Love,
The Poppins Household
Duet, Una, Mary, and Bert

Boomerang

2008-12-08T20:14:00.003-05:00

As I've mentioned on multiple occasions, I love ABBA. Almost as much as Una does. One of the greatest Christmas presents I ever received was the DVD "ABBA: The Definitive Collection." What makes this collection so definitive? According to the text on the DVD cover, it "features every official ABBA video in one package for the first time, including three Spanish clips that have never been commercially released before." I don't even speak Spanish, but that doesn't stop me from loving the Spanish clips.

Most of these videos were made before bands were making music videos. Consequently, they're not uber-imaginative, but they do feature some spectacular costumes. Dying to see Bjorn wearing silver knee-high platform boots (Bjorn is one of the boys by the way)? Look no further than "Waterloo." Would you like to see all four ABBA members dressed in 18th century formal clothing while singing "Dancing Queen?" Then watch their performance at the Royal Swedish Opera, one of the bonus tracks. I know, it's almost too good to be true. If there is an ABBA fan on your Christmas list, you now know the perfect present to give.

One of the gems I unearthed while watching this video was the song "Bang-a-Boomerang." I wasn't familiar with it prior to watching the music video. The lyrics to the chorus are priceless (I could not make this up, people. This is what makes them the international singing sensation that they are):
Like a bang, a boom-a-boomerang
Dum-be-dum-dum be-dum-be-dum-dum
Oh bang, a boom-a-boomerang
Love is a tune you hum-de-hum-hum
So give it away, I think you'll learn
You'll get love in return
So bang, a boom-a-boomerang is love
A boom-a-boomerang is love

That boomerang concept comes to my mind this evening as I've been thinking about the day. Today I made lunch for a friend of mine whose husband just got laid off. She came over with her daughter and we feasted on pasta. After that, I made frosting and the girls decorated some sugar cookies that Bert made last night. Everyone had a great time and when they left 2 hours later with full bellies and a plate of cookies in hand we all had smiles on our faces. Except Duet. She was sleeping. But when she woke up she was calling for her friend "Fofie" (Sophie) so I can only assume that she enjoyed herself as well.

Back to the boomerang. So I put the Christmas love out there and had a friend in need over for lunch. Well guess what happened not 4 hours later? Another friend of mine said she was running to the grocery store and when I mentioned I was on my way there to pick up some paper plates that I had neglected to get when I was there this morning she offered to pick them up for me and bring them to my home. Bang-a-boomerang. And just like that the Christmas love was returned.

Truer words were never spoken (or sung, as the case may be): So give it away, I think you'll learn/You'll get love in return.

Thank you friend, thank you universe, and thank you ABBA.

Now I'm off. I've got some leftover tinfoil and Bert and I are going to attempt to recreate this timeless ABBA image. Maybe if we can get the girls to cooperate, it will be our Christmas card picture this year. Wish us luck.

Christmas Cheer

2008-12-07T20:25:00.003-05:00

Did you hear that? That loud exhale? That's me breathing an audible sigh of relief now that last week is finally over. I ended up working 30 hours last week because we had some extra events going on at work. In addition to that, Bert was out of town for part of the week which always makes things trickier.
So here we are and it's already the 7th of December. The 7th! My tree is up, the presents have been purchased, and you know I've been listening to all kinds of Christmas music, but with all of the running around last week, things still don't seem adequately (for lack of a better, more specific, genuine term) Christmas-y around here.
This week promises to be less busy, giving me more time to get into and enjoy the Christmas spirit. But I think there's another component I need to add as well in order to produce more Christmas cheer. For my next challenge, I'm going to do one act of service each day to both feel and spread the Christmas love. At this point I don't really have a specific plan, but I'm sure that if I keep my eyes open, I'll find little ways to help others over the next couple of weeks. As usual, I'll keep posting about it. My ultimate wish is that by incorporating a little random act of kindness into my day, both my kids and I will experience more of the true Christmas spirit. Instead of making it all about Mary, I'll be making others merry.

Court OKs Diaper Evidence at Ex-Astronaut's Trial

2008-12-06T18:08:00.003-05:00

How's that for a headline? It actually appeared in the New York Times today (where else? You know how I love the New York Times).

Do you remember the news surrounding that crazy astronaut love triangle a couple of years ago? Two female astronauts were after the same male astronaut and the one became so obsessed and threatened that she drove from Houston to Orlando to allegedly kidnap her competition. She made the 1,000ish mile journey rather quickly, ostensibly with the aid of adult diapers. You really minimize the time wasted at those rest stops when you are only refueling your vehicle and not utilizing the restroom. Kudos, diapers. Personally, I've never considered that tactic, but I guess if you're really hard-pressed for time (say you just can't waste the 5 minutes it would take to actually use a toilet), diapers just might save the day.

In reality, although it seems so absurd, it's actually a scary story. Imagine some crazed individual driving half way across the country at near record speed in an attempt to kidnap you. I certainly wouldn't wish that scenario on my worst enemy. But somehow with adult diapers as an integral part of both the story and news headline, the whole situation sounds more like something out of a sitcom, and not a quarrel between lady astronauts.

Core completed? Yes. Although I'm tired of waiting to see some drastic results in the flexibility department. Looks like I need this program as an exercise in patience as well.

Narrow Escape

2008-12-05T23:48:00.002-05:00

Bert's out of town again and will thankfully be coming home tonight. Since Duet is such an active child (I was about to write unpredictable, but that's not true. I can always predict correctly that she will use her seemingly endless energy to climb onto chairs, tables and every other surface that can possibly be scaled), I cannot leave her alone for the few minutes that it takes me to shower. Consequently if I feel the need to shower while Bert is away, I find myself with a bathing buddy. Unfortunately Duet doesn't really like the shower, but if I stop up the drain, let her play with toys at the opposite end of the tub, and keep her directly out of the stream she usually manages.
This morning I found my self showering with Duet playing at my feet. Halfway through my shower I heard her say "pahwy" (Duet-speak for "potty") and at first I dismissed her request. I should be clear that she's only 20 months old and we're not yet potty-training in earnest. She has this obsession with the toilet lately that can only be described as inconvenient. Placing the toddler toilet seat onto the adult toilet and then climbing upon said toilet seat and then promptly climbing down is a spectacular activity according to my child with the propensity to climb (see above). I wasn't in the mood to play this scale the toilet game mid-shower but after persistent requests, I placed her atop her "pahwy." As predicted, she lost interest after a few moments and then started clamboring to get back in the "bah" (Duet-speak for "bath") with me. As I picked her up to bring her back into the bath, I caught a glimpse inside the toilet bowl and let me just say that I was thrilled to have obliged her this particular "pahwy" request. Although I don't love having one bathing buddy, I would have absolutely hated to have 2 bathing buddies today, particularly of this variety.

Reflections on Vice 4

2008-12-04T21:06:00.001-05:00

So I initially thought I'd only purchase consumable items for the remainder of 2008. And although I don't regret setting that lofty goal, in retrospect it was a bit unrealistic. After 6 weeks of following the compact, I've mostly adhered to the strict no non-consumable purchases policy. And surprisingly enough, it hasn't been that difficult. In the beginning there were twinges of disappointment, like when my favorite toy store sent us a 20% off coupon and I was unable to redeem it. In reality, the girls don't need new toys, but I normally spend those coupons because they're such a good deal. But as time goes by, it gets easier and easier to stick to my purchasing plan.
In the interest of full disclosure, however, in the last 6 weeks there have been some non-consumables purchased for the Poppins household. In addition to the Target run, I already posted about, they are:
1. Water bottle for Bert--you may remember how Bert was gone for a week last month. He was out interviewing at a few locations and took a long road trip to get to those cities. He didn't have a water bottle that fit in the cup holder in his car, so I bought him a water bottle that fit so that he could stay hydrated while on the road).
2. 2009 pocket monthly planner for Mary--surprise, surprise I have not upgraded to an electronic planner of some sort. I love the old-school pen and paper method. With January fast approaching and my social calendar filling up already (yes, I really am that desirable), I needed to purchase a planner in 2008.
3. Easel for Una's big Christmas present--this was the most superfluous purchase of the three. I originally said I'd be shopping for their Christmas presents out of the stash of toys I have in the closet. These are bargain toys I've purchased over the course of the year, but haven't yet given to the girls. I thought that this year I'd just give them those toys and save myself from spending more money. And I will be doing that for all of their presents except one: the easel. We are planning on giving Duet a hand me down rocking horse that a neighbor gave us a while ago. It's a pretty big and impressive item and it didn't cost us a cent. I thought Una might be disappointed if she got a puzzle, a book, and some wooden play food from us when we were giving Duet a puzzle, a book, and a rocking horse. When we saw that IKEA was having a super sale on their easels (originally 24.99, but on sale for 9.99), we thought we could pick one up for Una and even things out a bit.
So there you have it. We've been spending less and saving more and we really don't feel like we've been missing out on anything. Sure there are times when I see something that would look cute on one of my daughters (but honestly, what wouldn't look cute on them) and I think it would be fun to splurge a bit, but I resist the urge and within a week I don't ever remember what it was that was so cute. So in the end, I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything. In those 6 weeks, I haven't once regretted not buying something.

Core Completed? Wed, yes. Thurs, yes.

The 3 R's

2008-12-03T19:45:00.005-05:00

Recap: I was sick over the weekend, sleep-deprived on Monday, had a whirl-wind of activities on Tues, and Wed when I awoke I realized I had been slacking in the workout department. I rectified that today though by getting in a good 45 minute workout during Duet's afternoon nap and then following that up with the Core Program. I'm happy to say that now that I'm more familiar with the Core Program, it only takes 15 minutes to complete.

Restrictions: I'm rethinking the restrictions I've placed on my sugar consumption. Don't get me wrong, I've definitely benefited from curbing my desire to consume any sweet in sight. Limiting my intake to 1 treat per weekday has forced me to make decisions about my food and really plan ahead. If I know I'm going out for dessert that night, for example, I'll skip that afternoon dip into the candy jar. I've become more aware of what I'm putting into my body and I've been (more or less) in control of my cravings. I don't want to go back to the old way (stuffing sweets into my mouth at an alarming rate). But here's the deal: with the holiday season upon us, I've got parties to attend and I don't want to limit myself so strictly during those times. So, at parties and holiday gatherings, I'm going to allow myself to eat multiple treats at the party, as long as I maintain control. An example of maintaining control would be trying a small piece of cake, nibbling on a cookie, and drinking a small mug of hot chocolate. An example of losing control would be standing at the dessert table for the duration of the party cookie in one hand, fudge in the other (I cannot resist fudge), cake in my mouth (and likely, around my mouth--as in, smeared on my face), concentrating on the choices spread out before me, instead of engaging in conversation with actual people. This rule lasts until the new year and then we're back to 1 treat per weekday. Until then, I'll be taking the sugar situation side bar down and replacing it with something else (TBD).

Randomness: I know I just wrote a whole post about Christmas music, but I heard Wham's timeless "Last Christmas" on the radio today and was reminded of how much I loved Wham back in the day. Even as an elementary school kid, I had great taste in music.

The Great Christmas Music Debate

2008-12-02T19:15:00.003-05:00

Last week while decorating the house for Christmas and listening to Bing Crosby, Bert declared "This is the whitest Christmas album we own." Having grown up listening to Bing's mellow voice croon out the Christmas tunes, to me it's not inherently white, just classic. Bert disagrees.

What about "The Carpenters?" I inquired.

"Not as bad."

How about "Frank Sinatra?"

"No. At least he rolled with Sammy Davis Jr."

We don't own any Mannheim Steamroller gems (can't stand their inane overly electronic style) so I wasn't able to counter with that example. If I were a betting woman, I'd wager that any Mannheim Steamroller album would beat out Bing for the title of whitest Christmas album.

I then felt the need to call his attention to the fact that there is some diversity in our Christmas music collection:

Nat King Cole (my favorite Christmas album of all time. If you do not own it, buy it and you will not be disappointed. No one has a voice like Nat. No one.), Lou Rawls (fantastic--can't recommend it enough), and "Sounds of the Season: The NBC R&B Holiday Collection," one that we picked up for $4.99 at Target a few years back. I must say that this has been a great compilation album. It includes Christmas hits by R&B favorites such as R. Kelly, Destiny's Child, John Legend, Babyface, Luther Vandross, Macy Gray, Brian McKnight, and Aretha Franklin among others. Some are renditions of classics such as "The First Noel" and "O Holy Night," others are original works, such as "8 Days of Christmas," co-written by Beyonce and performed by Destiny's Child.

Now I love the talented Beyonce as much as the next person, but "8 Days of Christmas" just doesn't do it for me. It starts out with (spoken in a sultry voice) " You know Christmas was made for children. Destiny's children." After a bit more banter, the singing commences "On the 8th day of Christmas my baby gave to me a pair of Chloe shades and a diamond belly ring." At my age I could possibly pull off the Chloe shades, but after 2 kids, the diamond belly ring is definitely out.

My hands-down favorite song on this R&B collection is the decidedly anti-compact "Santa Baby," sung by Macy Gray. I don't know what it is about that song, but I can't get enough of it. The original Eartha Kitt version is superb and Macy Gray definitely holds her own and does a stellar job as well. Madonna's version is horrible, which leads me to believe that no white person should ever try recording that song.

As a Christmas tradition, we usually buy a new Christmas CD each year to add to our collection. Due to the compact, we'll probably forgo that this year (it's OK, we have plenty of music to get us through the season). Yesterday (obviously forgetting about the compact) Bert asked what Christmas album we were going to get this year. I suggested the new Aretha Franklin Christmas CD. His suggestion? James Taylor.

Well, well, who's all about the white Christmas this year, Bert?

The Good and the Bad

2008-12-01T20:29:00.004-05:00

Bad: On Saturday I had a fever.

Good: I went to bed at 8:30 that night and slept through until 10:30 Sunday morning.

Good: Did you catch that? I got 14 hours of sleep in one night!

Good: My fever was gone when I woke up Sunday morning and I continued to improve throughout the day.

Good: I went to bed at 11:00 Sunday night.

Bad: Still awake at midnight, I searched for some Unisom, only to discover that someone (OK, it was me) had taken the last one and hadn't bought any more

Bad: I didn't actually fall asleep until 4:15 Monday morning.

Bad: Duet woke up at 6:15 this morning.

Bad: Did you catch that? I got 2 hours of sleep in one night!

Good: In the past two nights, I got 16 hours of sleep which averages to 8 hours of sleep per night (this is my desperate attempt to think positively and maintain an optimistic attitude).

Bad: Duet took a 30 minute nap this afternoon.

Bad: I reached my breaking point shortly thereafter.

Good: Bert saved the day by responding to my plea for help and immediately returned home where he took over parenting duties for the rest of the day. THANKS.

Good: I purchased more Unisom.

Good: I just swallowed my Unisom.

Good: I'm off to bed.

Good Night.

Core Program completed? Good grief! Are you kidding me? You may also notice that I ate one cookie and had a piece of apple pie. I needed something good to get me through this very bad day. Thank goodness for sugar and Unisom.

I Hate "I Heart"

2008-11-30T18:25:00.004-05:00

This is nothing but negative, but it needs to be said (and I should add that it is not directed at any particular individual). Besides, I've had a fever for the past 24 hours, so I'm feeling miserable and am therefore entitled to complain a bit.

Since when did it become acceptable for adults to use the phrase "I heart?"

Witness the difference:

I love apple pie, endangered wildlife, and reading current events.

I heart apple pie, I heart panda bears, I heart People Magazine.

All of the above statements may be true, but notice that I sound like a rational adult in the former sentence and a pre-teen girl in the latter.

And it's not even a clever phrase. It wasn't terribly clever when the mediocre movie "I Heart Huckabees" came on the scene a few years back, and it's certainly less clever now. It's one of those things that (like Joan Rivers) does not age well.

Admittedly, those "I (picture of a heart) NY" tourist t-shirts have been around forever. We've become so accustomed to them by now that it doesn't seem like an egregious misuse of the English language and an assault on our intelligence when we sporadically see some post-vacationer sporting their tacky souvenier. But in any other context, I heart is just plain unacceptable.

The last time I wrote I (picture of a heart) anything was back in the 7th grade when I wrote "I (picture of a heart) Randy" on the homemade paper bag bookcover of my pre-algebra textbook. Incidentally, that was in reference to Randy, a boy in my grade, not the Randy of American Idol fame. It's one of those things like pegged pants, neon colored leggings, out-of-control bangs, braces, and a minor Milli Vanilli obsession, that belong in my 7th grade past.

So I implore you, no more I heart! Let's just embrace the fact that we are adults and can and should use other words to convey our adoration of _________________(fill in the blank with whatever it is you love, appreciate, cherish, treasure, prize, value, like, enjoy, delight in, dig, fancy, relish, revel in, covet, crave, die for, wish for, yearn for, etc.). With so many acceptable alternatives, why settle for I heart?

This week's plan is to continue with the Core Program. I know I won't completely overcome my inflexibility in a matter of weeks, but I need to concentrate on this for another week before adding a new goal to my plate. Oh and now that my week of vacation and Thanksgiving are over, I'm back on the 1 treat per weekday plan.

Dos and Don'ts

2008-11-29T18:58:00.003-05:00

After 1 week of following the Core Program, I've detailed a handy list of Dos and Don'ts for everyone out there who loves to follow in my footsteps.

Do: Laugh hysterically each time you do exercise 2 and question the effectiveness of such a move.

Don't: Laugh hysterically if you haven't first utilized the restroom. Although you've been doing the exercise known as the Three-Part Pelvic Stabilizer for 4 days now, that doesn't make up for the fact that you've already had 2 children and it will likely take you years of pelvic stabilizing exercises before you can comfortably laugh in public (or private) with a full bladder.

Do: Use a yoga mat when performing these exercises.

Don't: Try to get away with using your bed in lieu of a yoga mat. I don't care how much lumbar support your mattress boasts, it's still not supportive enough. You'll end up prostrate with your face buried deep into the blankets as you struggle to lift the weight of your body out of the hammock that your mattress has suddenly become. You will become frustrated and this is not how you want to feel in the bedroom. See this for a gentle reminder of that fact.

Do: Tell your yoga-loving 4 year old that these exercises are really "yoga moves" so she'll be encouraged to participate (and laugh) alongside you.

Don't: Try any of these "yoga moves" when your 20 month old is wandering around the house. It's a less effective way to complete the Core Program.Good luck and happy exercising!

The Best Traditional Post-Thanksgiving Activity

2008-11-28T20:37:00.006-05:00

Instead of shopping on this Black Friday, I participated in my favorite activity of all time: napping. Yesterday we had a terrific Thanksgiving dinner with the Furious family and ended up staying out past Una and Duet's bedtime. I figured they'd fall asleep in the car. I figured wrong. After going to bed at nearly 9:00pm (normal bedtime 7:00pm), Duet managed to still get up at 5:15am. I was up with her for a couple of hours before handing her off to Bert. I then slept from 7:30am-11:00am. It was heaven. It wasn't a post-Turkey tryptophan-induced nap per se, but it was delightful none the less.
We also managed to decorate our place for Christmas and talk Una out of asking Santa for "a big pink and purple quilt because I'm afraid I'll outgrow the quilt I have now." I knew there wasn't any way that "Santa" would be able to whip that up in less than a month. Thankfully we successfully reassured her that her quilt is still big enough to cover her body and it's not time to move up yet.
Finally, here are some Thanksgiving pictures for your enjoyment. Kid Furious and Una ran around entertaining themselves the entire time we were there. No, it's not an action shot, but look at how cute they are. P.S. Una's wearing pajamas, not because we're ghetto and don't know how to dress for the occasion, but because we took the photo right before we were about to leave and as I mentioned earlier I was hoping she'd sleep in the car.Baby Furious and Duet tried to keep up with the big girls. And this is the best group shot we could muster. So not everyone's looking great, but it's nigh impossible to get this many kids facing in the same direction, let alone smilingBert thankfully did most of the parenting so that I could spend time with Mrs. F. (no picture of that, sorry). Thanks for hosting us, Furious family. We had a spectacular time! I'm so sorry some of you ended up sick (apparently we leave nothing but devastation in our wake).

Two Feet, Revisited

2008-11-27T13:41:00.002-05:00

Last night Bert and I had a babysitter and so we went out alone for the first time in over a month. Like most unimaginative couples we went to dinner, dessert, and a movie. Like most poor couples we ate at a cheap restaurant, used a coupon for a free dessert (one cinnamon-sugar pretzel which we shared), and watched a movie at the deeply discounted theater. To most of the world, WALL-E was a summer blockbuster. To us, it's the perfect holiday flick.

Ever aware of my flexibility-challenged body, I decided to use some of the time during the movie to stretch out my hamstrings. It was a darkened theater so no one would notice, after all. What could go wrong with that plan? I glanced in front of me to make sure the seat was unoccupied and then placed my two feet (what is it with me and two feet these days?) on top of that seat so that my legs were extended and stretching would occur. My stretching got cut short when a short woman whimpered and made her presence known. Of course I immediately retracted my feet, but the damage had already been done. I apologized profusely for putting my feet on her head and felt stupid for the remainder of the movie. Even the budding robot romance between WALL-E and EVE couldn't tear me away from my humiliation.

So on that note, Happy Thanksgiving! If you don't feel you have much to be thankful for, you can at least be thankful that you weren't sitting in front of me at the movie theater last night.

Core completed? Wednesday, yes. Thursday, yes. That's a total of 3 so far this week. It's taking less time as I become more familiar with the routine. And as an added bonus, I always feel taller when I'm done. I love feeling taller. Maybe after months of this, I'll actually be as tall as the 5'9" I've been claiming for years now (so I'm really 5'8 1/2," most people round up, don't they?).

Baby Einstein

2008-11-26T16:47:00.004-05:00

This morning the girls were playing in Gross Motor Basement and I was doing laundry in the decidedly un-fun section of the basement. Gross Motor Basement thus far has been a moderate success. We're definitely spending more time down there and Duet (aka the climber, Sir Edmund Hillary, you get the idea) can't get enough of the new indoor climbing opportunities. Una shot a few hoops into our child-sized basketball stand and did remarkably well. She then quickly lost interest and (true to her personality and interests) found some pillows, barricaded herself in the tunnel with some books, started pretending it was her tent and spent the remainder of the day in there reading. Not what I had in mind when I originally conceived of Gross Motor Basement, but she was clearly enjoying it so I will (contrary to my personality and interests) resist the urge to complain.

While doing the laundry in the aforementioned un-fun section of the basement, Duet came running over to me with this letter in hand repeating A, A, A.
Usually when she says A, A, A, she's pointing at the stereo requesting that we play Vampire Weekend's "A-Punk." This time, however, there was no stereo to be seen so I assumed what any mother in my situation would: my baby is a genius.

After complimenting her on her brilliance she ran off and then returned a minute later carrying this letter and saying A, A, A, A.Maybe my genius assumption was a bit premature.

Has the core program been completed? Not yet, but the night is young. I'll report back to you on that tomorrow.

Voodoo

2008-11-25T21:27:00.004-05:00

We're keeping a close eye on Duet these days. And Bert.

Una's always been enamored with Bert's profession. When asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she always responds "a surgeon." A few weeks back a stranger at the grocery store struck up a conversation with Una and when he found out she was 4 he said, "I'll bet you want to be a princess when you grow up." Una immediately corrected him. "No, I'm going to be a surgeon." Personally I don't find the two mutually exclusive. But in her mind there's no room for princess surgeons, I guess. Tonight while Bert was bathing the girls I overheard her saying that she wants to work at the same hospital as her dad. Una just can't get enough of the doctor thing.

Then there's Duet. Bert brought this cute little doctor stress-reliever home from one of his conferences and gave it to Duet. You know, the kind that's made of some pliable material so you can squeeze it and then release it and it will regain its original shape. She played with it for a while. But what was meant to be a stress relieving, gripping device for adults is apparently no match for Duet. After playing with it for a short period of time, we heard her say "uh oh doctor" repeatedly. Then Una chimed in, "she broke the doctor in two pieces."
So, if there are any MDs out there in the Mary Poppins fan base, you may want to watch your back. Duet may be after you. Like I said, we're keeping a close eye on her. And Bert.

I completed the core program today. After spending a couple of hours hunched over a chair mending clothes this evening, it felt nice to stretch out. Even if it did take longer than the promised 15 minutes.

PG-13 Post

2008-11-24T21:00:00.008-05:00

It's been a delightful day. I slept in, as promised. So did Duet. What? Of course on the day Bert was supposed to get up with her she slept in until 7:00am. Lucky him.

I met some coworkers for brunch (sans kids). It was nice to pretend to be a grown up for a couple of hours.

Mrs Furious, kid, and baby came over for a few hours this afternoon. We had a splendid time catching up amid blanket forts, couch cushions, and wooden play food strewn about the room. Bert even made lunch for us while we visited. In furious fashion, everyone got along famously. The best part is we get to see them again on Thanksgiving.

Speaking of Thanksgiving. With the holiday this week, all of my classes are canceled so I have the entire week off. To celebrate I'm temporarily lifting my ban on multiple treats per weekday. Some of you may find this disappointing. Deal with it.

In preparation for winter, Bert and I spent the better part of the evening reconfiguring the play spaces in our house. Out of necessity we spend too much time indoors here during the frigid winter months, so in anticipation of the long days ahead we grouped toys together in new (hopefully exciting) ways and de-cluttered some toys that we no longer use (we took a big gamble tossing the talking Dora doll that Una loved in the past but hasn't played with for months. For some inexplicable reason, Duet is terrified of the Dora doll. Not Dora in general, just this particular doll).

The big news of the day is we created Gross Motor Basement. It's special enough that I've determined it should indeed be a Proper Noun. All of the random toys that had previously been in the basement (including the--according to Duet--creepy Dora doll) are now gone, making room for gross motor toys, and gross motor toys only. We're hoping this will encourage the girls to use said toys more, particularly during the months where we're cooped up so much. Behold Gross Motor Basement:
And finally, did anyone see this article in the New York Times? As of tonight, it's the number 1 most frequently emailed article on their website. In the words of Tobias Funke (from Arrested Development, of course) "Let the great experiment begin!" Although in that instance he was refering to creating an open marriage, and I'm pretty sure that's the opposite thing this article would have you do. Since my mom and other people I know read this blog, I'm not going to say whether or not Bert and I will be following Reverend Young's advice. But it's an interesting read.

And with that, I'd best be off for I've got some things (ahem) to take care of before the day is done.

Sit and Reach Reject

2008-11-23T18:59:00.005-05:00

When I was in elementary school, once a year we were required to perform some Seinfeld-esque "feats of strength" in order to acquire a Presidential fitness medal/honor of some sort. The details are a bit hazy because I never actually passed all of the requirements in a satisfactory manner. This should not come as a shock to those of you who have been with me from the start. You may recall that physical fitness has never been a priority for me (please reference vice 1 if you don't believe me). But I'm improving on that front. I would like to remind everyone that since accepting the first challenge to work out, I have accomplished that goal each week. Change is possible.

So to the best of my recollection these so-called "feats of strength" included: running 1 mile (still something I don't enjoy doing), performing pull-ups (something I haven't been able to do since the 6th grade when I maxed out at 4), and participating in the dreaded sit and reach. This is where you sit with your legs stretched out before you, your feet flat against a platform that forms the base of a table-like structure with a ruler on top of it. The idea is you reach with your arms as far forward onto the plateau as you can (like you're going to touch your toes--or beyond) and the ruler is used to measure how far you can essentially sit and reach. Such a clever name for such a heinous practice. I'm sure you can guess from the title of this post that I was never a sit and reach star. In my later years I've learned that my less than stellar performance indicates that I'm not very flexible and more specifically that I have tight hamstrings. Whatever. It's never really bothered me.

But, in the interest of improving myself, and seeing as how I'm not getting any younger, I've decided that I should incorporate some stretching and toning into my successful workout regimen. In an effort to overcome vice no. 6: living with a body that is inflexible (like the will of a tantrum-throwing toddler), I'll be following this book (The Core Program by Peggy Brill), one that has been recommended by a physical therapist friend of mine, and one that I've used sporadically in the past. The program is designed by a physical therapist to strengthen and stretch the muscles necessary for proper alignment and posture. Both my mom (70) and my older sister (45) have had great success with it as well. Since it claims to only take 15 minutes a day, I figure I can manage that. But since I like to aim low so that I'll be pleasantly surprised with my successes, rather than disappointed with my failures, I'll strive for 4 Core stretching/strengthening sessions per week for now.

Now for one last de-cluttering duties report: I did it. Little by little my house is becoming more organized as I throw out unwanted/unnecessary items. Following the compac t this last month has been most helpful and although I'm moving on to a new vice, I'm not moving on from the compact. I will continue to follow it and post about it as the opportunities arise (read when I have witty or insightful experiences to relay to the masses).

Putting My Two Feet In My Mouth

2008-11-22T18:23:00.005-05:00

This morning at my parent and child dance class (for children 2-5 years old), a visitor came with one of the children. Since there are already plenty of adults in the class, it's not uncommon for grandparents, out-of-town relatives, members of my fan club, etc. to join in the fun or sit on the sidelines if they prefer. I mean, who doesn't want to see Mary Poppins lead a creative movement class? Visitors are not unusual for this class but there was something a bit unusual about this visitor. I don't think I've ever met anyone who fit into as many historically discriminated-against groups. She was a female African American lesbian amputee. I only fit into one of those groups (in case you were wondering, it's female) and sometimes things can be rough. I can't imagine how many barriers one would face in her situation. Luckily I happened to see her through the windows before she entered the dance room so I was able to pull my inquisitive Una aside and whisper into her ear: "someone is coming in who only has one leg. We're not going to ask any questions about that or talk about that, OK?" She nodded her head in agreement and I hoped that she'd remember. If only I had been able to remember perhaps I wouldn't feel like such an ass right now.

My lesson plans for the class include a mix CD that I make each week and a paper on which I've typed up the order of the songs and the props/directions. I reference this paper throughout the 45 minute-long class because I can't be expected to recall the exact order or even the exact songs I'm using that week (due to my job, my iTunes library is ridiculously extensive when it comes to children's music. This is not a fact I'm proud of. It's just a fact). About half way through the class the next song scheduled was one where you pretend to put different shoes on your feet and move accordingly (marching shoes: march, running shoes: run, tiptoe shoes: tiptoe--you get the idea) and the chorus goes like this: "I've got two feet, and I really like to use them, I've got two feet, that take me anywhere." The kids love it and it's a crowd pleaser. But not when you have someone with only one foot in the crowd. I wish I'd remembered her presence before I started out on a course that was disastrous.

When I noticed that song was next, I turned to the kids and said my usual intro (it goes something like this): "show me your two feet. In this next song we get to use them in many different ways." Then I stopped abruptly when I remembered our visitor. Clearly dancing to the two feet song would have been in extremely poor taste considering her situation. I already felt rude and unfeeling having delivered my little spoken intro. My only course of action at this point was to abort that portion of my lesson plan. I lamely said "oh wait, I don't have that song today. Let's see what's next." We then proceeded with another song that doesn't repeat the refrain about two feet over and over again for nearly 4 minutes.

At the end of class, everyone had cleared the room except for our visitor. I decided to strike up some friendly banter to let her know that I am a nice person after all. I told her we loved having visitors and thanked her for coming. She said she'd be coming frequently in the future (I perked up at that. Perhaps I hadn't scared her off after all) and then I asked if she was family or a friend and she said "I'm her partner. Well, her new partner." My response? "That makes sense." What? What exactly about that statement makes sense? I'm sure she thought I was a total moron. I know I thought that about myself. I totally struck out with the one-legged lesbian today. Maybe I can redeem myself next time. That is, if she shows up next time.

For the record, this is why the partner comment made sense to me: the child who brought the visitor has been in my class for almost a year. Their entire family (the two moms and the cute girl) would come to class together every week without fail. Then a couple of months ago I noticed that the women were taking turns bringing the daughter. At first I thought one of the moms was sick or out of town, but when they continued to show up on alternate weeks without the other one I thought that maybe they'd broken up. Today when the visitor stated that she was the mom's new partner my suspicions were confirmed and it made sense as to why I hadn't seen the two moms together for months. However without that context my comment made no sense whatsoever and I certainly wasn't going to explain my logic and dig myself deeper and deeper into an already gigantic hole. I ended up cheerily wishing her a happy Thanksgiving and held the door open for her on her way out. After all of that, it was the least I could do.

Please note: I'm turning the comments off for this post. I'm sure any and all comments would be along the lines of "you're an idiot, Mary Poppins." Trust me, I already know that.

What Happy People Don't Do

2008-11-21T19:23:00.002-05:00

Take care of their children completely unassisted for 7 days straight while also working 26 hours that week.

OK, in reality this week hasn't been as bad as I'd feared. But I did have to work more than usual since one of my coworkers got sick and I ended up subbing on my only day off. All in all things have gone remarkably smoothly, but I'm highly anticipating Bert's return on Sunday evening. The hardest part for me has been the lack of sleep. With Duet's crazy sleep habits and no one with whom I can share early morning child care duties, I've only averaged 5 or 6 hours of sleep each night. And like the imperfect person that I am, I tend to be less patient and engaging when I haven't been getting the sleep my body requires. You'd better believe that I'm spending Sunday night sleeping in the basement all by myself. Wearing earplugs. And an eye mask. How romantic is that? "Welcome home Bert. Long time no see. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to be alone while I hibernate preferably for the winter, but if that doesn't work out I'll settle for the next 12 hours."

If you're really wondering what it is that happy people don't do, you should read this short article from the New York Times. Fascinating stuff. I've never been a huge fan of TV (you may remember that the Poppins kick it old-school with rabbit ear antennas and consequently only get extremely fuzzy reception for 2 channels) and here's one more reason to turn it off. As if last night's episodes of The Office and 30 Rock weren't good enough reasons already (so disappointing. Very few laugh out loud moments).

One thing I've noticed since the inception of my blog is that my TV viewing has gone down considerably. Again, there wasn't much available to watch beforehand, but I'd find myself turning it on absent-mindedly anyway. Now I've filled my life with better blog-related activities (writing, exercising, de-cluttering, talking myself out of going into the kitchen to partake of a second helping of those delicious brownies), and I no longer have time to watch mindlessly. I now only follow 2 (usually stellar, with the exception of last night) shows. And I don't miss all of the TV. So if you want to be happy like me (c'mon, don't I sound happy? Glad? Exuberant? Effervescent?), turn it off.

De-cluttering duties today included sorting things that tend to collect (and mysteriously multiply) in the basement. Oh how I hate the basement. Except when it is a refuge and sleep haven for me.

Everything Must Go!

2008-11-20T19:47:00.005-05:00

OK, technically not everything. But I am getting rid of excess stuff. That's a major part of what the de-cluttering portion of the compact is all about. However, deciding what stays and what goes is, like most things in life (losing 5 lbs, completing the New York Times crossword puzzle, correctly pronouncing the word "nuclear"--OK maybe that last one only applies if your last name is Bush or Palin), easier said than done. To guide me through the process I ask myself the following questions: Do I need it? Do I have another item that fulfills the same function? Do I have room for it? "Do I already have enough of this or a similar item?"
Sometimes though you've been hanging onto something for so long that you don't even notice it anymore and you certainly don't look at it objectively. In this circumstance, these questions alone aren't enough to encourage you to part with it. Sometimes you need an extra nudge from an uninvolved third party.

Witness the item:

And here's the back view:

Now for the story:
A friend handed this down to me because she already had 2. That was in 1998. Let me repeat that: this was a hand-me-down back in 1998. Who knows how old it really is. Truthfully, I've never given much thought to the shirt or its age. It's just become a staple in my drawer, one that's held up really well over the years (major props to The Gap) and has had the extraordinary ability to stretch over my gigantic belly during 2 pregnancies and still retain its shape. I never objectively thought about whether I liked it or not. It just existed. My feelings were Swiss-like (neutral). But the shirt was abruptly brought to the forefront of my consciousness one day a few months back when I had an encounter with an uninvolved third party. I ran into a woman I know who asked me "Is that from The Gap?" When I confirmed, she said "I used to have that shirt. In Junior High."
Later that night Bert confessed he wasn't a fan of the shirt either. Even after being confronted with the fact that the shirt was from the era when Beverly Hills 90210 was not a remake and The New Kids On The Block were actually new, I was still neutral about the shirt. So it stayed. Until I de-cluttered today. It's the end of an era.

And as a sugar situation follow-up to yesterday's post, I did make it to both Godiva and Cold Stone today. Duet and I went to Godiva while Una was at preschool. Duet woke up early from her nap. Normally I would have been irritated, but today I was thrilled since it meant I could make it there before free truffle hour was over. The nice lady at Godiva gave us each one and Duet shoved the entire thing in her mouth. One finger sweep later, I was able to retrieve it and save her from chocolate-induced suffucation. When she'd finished hers, she started clamboring for mine. I managed to keep it out of her chocolate covered fingers, however, and it currently is awaiting its consumption on a later date while sitting on the counter next to 2 left-over brownies. After picking Una up from preschool, we headed out to Cold Stone where we each got a plate of ice cream cake and pie samples (chocolate mint ice cream with red velvet cake, caramel gingerbread cookie ice cream with yellow cake, and cookie dough ice cream pie). And since it was dinner time (and I'm a nice mom), I let that count as our dinner tonight. We were 3 happy girls, that's for sure.

A Few Fantastic Freebies

2008-11-19T14:18:00.002-05:00

Hi all! I got an insider's tip (and by insider's tip, I mean I got an email from each establishment about this) on a couple of sweet (literally) deals going on tomorrow (Thurs. Nov 20th) and since I'm nice like that, I thought I'd pass the information along to you.

First, you can get a free truffle from 1:00pm-3:00pm at a Godiva boutique near you. That's usually during Duet's nap time, but I'm optimistic I can work something out.

Second, you can get free samples of ice cream cake and pie from 4:00pm-8:00pm at a Cold Stone near you.

Now, I should mention that you may want to check with your local establishments before schlepping off to claim your treats. To quote my dad "I may not always be right, but I am never wrong." That said, I would hate for someone to find out the hard way that this deal was only valid in Mary Poppins's hood. So if you live near me (and you know who you are), this is for real and maybe I'll see you there.

By the way, how am I getting around the one treat per day rule on this day of double treats? Easy. Assuming I can work in the Godiva thing around Duet's nap schedule, I'll save that truffle for Friday. Past experience has taught me that ice cream doesn't last quite as long, so that will be consumed on the spot.

And lastly, I did de-clutter yesterday and I might add that things are coming together nicely on that front. I felt like my day has gone a whole lot better today because I've had fewer items to sift through.

Bye Bye Bertie

2008-11-18T07:24:00.003-05:00

Don't worry. Bertie isn't the pet name I call my husband. I don't even call him Bert, except for on the blog. But the title reminded me of the musical I was in during my high school days. After the phenomenon that is High School Musical, it's finally cool to admit you've performed in musicals. Well, I'm not sure it will ever be cool to make such an admission, but I'm throwing it out there anyway. When I was 16 I played the role of Ursula, the overly enthusiastic teenage BFF to the main character Kim, in Bye Bye Birdie. I got to lead many renditions of "We love you Conrad, oh yes we do, We love you Conrad, and we'll be true..." and deliver my favorite line of all time: "Let's have an orgy!" I believe the stage directions directly preceding that line said "pronounced with a hard g sound," presumably to convey Ursula's innocence. The director did have me leap spread eagle into the arms of Conrad Birdie and wrap my legs around his waist while declaring Ursula's desire to have an orgy, so I'm not sure how innocent Ursula really was.

Back to my Bertie. Bert is out of town this week and we miss him terribly. He left yesterday morning and we won't see him until Sunday night. My kids really miss out when he's not around. And their personal hygiene starts to suffer. Bert's the one who bathes the girls every evening. I don't enjoy giving baths so when he's not around, I can assure you it doesn't happen nightly. We shoot for every other night (you know me, I always say "aim high"). I justify this by telling myself that too much cleansing will actually dry out their skin. Whether this is actually true or not, I'm not sure. But it makes me feel a bit better about my laziness.

It's not all bad when he's away though. I'm finding that with one fewer person in the house, it's easier to keep things de-cluttered and in order. Not that Bert's messy. It's just that now that he's away, there's only 3 of us bringing things into the house instead of 4. After one week of de-cluttering and 3 weeks of being very careful about limiting the number of items brought into my home, I'm happy to report that most of the horizontal surfaces in my home are free of excess junk. And (although this is a revelation to me, it's probably a no-brainer for most) it's easier to keep things tidy when the clutter is gone. Throughout the day yesterday as I would travel up and down the stairs I found little items out of place and would take them with me to the correct part of the house. It's easy to do this if the misplaced item is obviously out of place. Not so easy when the misplaced item is camouflaged by other misplaced items.

Although it feels good to be making progress of this nature, it's certainly not as much fun as singing with my BFF and propositioning a teen idol. Don't you just miss high school?

Really Shameless Begging

2008-11-17T07:11:00.006-05:00

"Shameless begging" is probably an oxymoron. Is there any way to beg without shame? I think not. I'm attempting it anyway. I'm keeping this post on the shorter side today so that you can use the time you usually spend reading to to do something on my behalf instead. You'd do a little favor for Mary Poppins, wouldn't you? Especially if I promised that it would only take you 3 seconds? Please?

So the 2008 Weblog Awards are upon us and I've been nominated for Best New Blog. If you've already voted, thank you. If you tried to earlier, but were frustrated, read on. This time you can easily vote for me here. It's a simple 2-click process. And since all of my readers are brilliant, I know you can handle this. All you have to do is click on this and then click on the green plus sign under "becomingmarypoppins". Easy as pie. As you know, I'm not tech savvy. But I did manage to find out how to link to exact the spot where my blog is mentioned (I know, I know, someone with my lack of tech skills deserves an award just for that. See? There's one more reason to vote for me). So none of that scrolling/searching for my name business is necessary. Just give the page a second or two to load properly and it will go right to spot where you can vote for my blog. Also, you can only vote once. If that saddens you because you love voting for me as much as I do, you can technically vote once from each computer. In the time it took you to read that you could have voted for me. It's that easy. Gracias. Merci. Anks-thay.

Webster

2008-11-16T19:13:00.002-05:00

You may be thinking that this post's title refers to that 80s TV show with the little adopted kid who lived in a house full of secret passageways. You'd be wrong. Although that show was an example of fine television, today I'm talking about definitions.

At lunch I casually mentioned to Bert that I'd been with a friend this morning who was complaining that she was exhausted. Una (come to think of it, "Ears" would be a good nickname for her) chimed in, "I know what exhausted means. It means unhappy, angry, upset, and sad." For a moment I was puzzled and then the proverbial light bulb went on and I got it. The only time Una hears that word is when I'm speaking harshly, as in "Una, I'm exhausted! Please stop chanting 'I'm playing my guitar' over and over again." Or "Una, I'm exhausted! Please put your coat on now because I don't want to ask you a fourth time." Or "Una, I'm exhausted! Please don't ask me for another treat. I already said no." If I were 4 and a half years old and were trying to decipher the meaning of the word exhausted from those context clues, I'd probably come up with her definition as well. I guess the next time I'm exhausted I'll need to explain that I'm sleep deprived and hence short on patience. And now I'm off to bed because (you guessed it) I'm exhausted.

This week my goal is to continue with vice 5. I'll be de-cluttering for 10 minutes each day. It's been a week into the challenge and I'm already noticing a difference. It's encouraging.

They're Back

2008-11-15T19:03:00.005-05:00

Last night I got a sweet tip from my sister who lives in California. The seasonal Trader Joe's Candy Cane Joe-Joe's are back in stock.
As far as TJ's goods are concerned, these babies are definitely in my top 3, possibly even the top 2 (nothing, I repeat, nothing can take that #1 spot away from the frozen chocolate croissants that you bake to perfection yourself and then devour fresh out of the oven). About the Candy Cane Joe-Joe's, these are not simply peppermint flavored oreos, no ma'am. These are oreos with crushed up bits of actual candy cane mixed into the creamy white middle layer. They're perfect. They're only available at Christmas time. And they sell out fast. Last year I bought a case of them. A case, I tell you (I can't remember exactly how many boxes are in a case, but I think it's something like 16). And you'd better believe that we either ate or gifted every single one of those boxes of cookies. This year since I'm following the compact and trying to discern the difference between wants and needs I only bought 8 boxes when I went to the store this morning. Good thing I've been de-cluttering lately, so I've got room to store said boxes.

De-cluttering duties today included leafing through more paperwork, clearing out the bookshelf on our main level, and organizing toys during the two hours I had to myself while Bert took the girls to a birthday party. On her way to the party I asked Una, "Are you ready to party?" Her response: "I'm going to rock the party!" Well said, sister. Well said.

If You Like Pina Coladas...

2008-11-14T20:23:00.004-05:00

I've had that song in my mind all day. You know, the one about getting caught in the rain, not being into health food, having 1/2 a brain, and making love at midnight. It's quite the random laundry list of attributes. Anyway, since it's been in my mind all day I thought I'd share the love and get you all hooked on it too. I have nothing more to say about that.
If you like caramel apples though, may I suggest this item available in your grocer's produce section:I adore caramel apples but am not down with the $7.00 price tag affixed to them at the gourmet candy shops. I once attempted to melt down caramel myself, but when I poured it over the apples the caramel just slid right off. Huge disappointment. This is why I rejoice in these caramel apple wraps. They're tiny--so pair them with small apples. They're also fool-proof and take less than 10 minutes to create. Una and I have made them together on many occasions. Make them even more impressive by melting white and dark chocolate chips in the microwave and then coating the caramel apples with chocolate.
Admittedly no one would pay $7.00 for this bad boy, but it's not about the appearance. I'm judging solely on taste. Just writing about this makes me my mouth water. If I hadn't already had a helping of homemade strawberry shortcake (the really good kind with the biscuit-y type of shortcake) for lunch today, I'd go make a caramel apple for myself right now. Maybe tomorrow. After all, tomorrow's only a few short hours away.

De-cluttering duties today included going through paperwork. B-O-R-I-N-G, but necessary. Come tax season I'll be prepared. Other fun tidbits: I now know that I have not one, but two social security cards and I found some coupons I'd been holding on to since 2007. Not so useful as we approach 2009.

Satisfaction

2008-11-13T21:00:00.002-05:00

The other day one of Bert's meetings was canceled at the last minute so he offered to take the girls for the afternoon so that I could enjoy some time to myself. At this point in my life time to myself is just about my favorite thing ever. For some reason though, I couldn't for the life of me come up with anything worthwhile to do. I wasn't interested in any of the movies currently showing and although I always enjoy leisurely browsing through the stacks at the bookstore (not possible with Una and Duet shadowing me), I didn't particularly feel like searching for new books to read when I'm in the middle of a fantastic book already (I mentioned it earlier, Steinbeck's East of Eden. Read it and and I promise you will not be disappointed. I have fewer than 100 pages to go). As you know, shopping is something I'm trying to avoid so I didn't think it would be such a smart move to go hang out at the mall. Plus I'm not 15 years old anymore, and I don't think I've really hung out at the mall since I was that age.
Bert and the girls left and I was planning on following shortly behind. I even made it out the door but by the time I got to my car I realized that what I really wanted to do didn't involve leaving the house at all. If I was honest with myself, I wanted to use the time I had in my empty house to de-clutter my bedroom. I should mention that I'm not one of those people who naturally enjoys organizing and de-cluttering (I know those people exist. My mom is one of them), so I was struck by how odd it was to actually have a desire to do that over other activities. But my motto is, "if the mood strikes, go for it." My adherence to that motto could explain the purchase of the still unopened workout DVDs that I bought after viewing the infomercial during a midnight feeding with Duet when she was a month old. At the time Yoga Booty Ballet (I kid you not, that's the title) seemed like a fun and effective way to lose the baby weight. I however, chose the lazy route and ended up going on the Slim Fast diet instead. It totally worked by the way.
Where were we? Oh yes, my afternoon off. So I marched back into my house and started clearing out excess junk from my bedroom. It took me over an hour and a half to get things straightened out and organized (that's how bad it was), but I was so pleased with the results. I can't explain it other than to say that it just feels better when I walk in there. I feel better. It's calmer and I like it. Hopefully I can get to the point where my whole house feels that way. I'm not there yet, but it's nice to walk into my room and have a reminder that it's possible.

Art Class, Take Two

2008-11-12T19:58:00.003-05:00

I'm tired. Today I put in an 8 hour workday. I'm usually only a part-time employee so this was a particularly long day. Keep in mind that I always take my kids to work with me. It was a long day for everyone. It wasn't in my plans to do so much today but while I was on the elliptical this afternoon at 2:15, I got a frantic call from my boss who needed a last-minute substitute for an art class that started at 3:45pm. I was reluctant to say yes because you may recall that last time I subbed for art class Duet nearly a. bludgeoned herself to death and b. choked do death. That's right, both of those. It was a busy, stressful, life-threatening 45 minutes. With my boss on the phone awaiting my response, I weighed my options carefully. I could agree to sub and in the process a. make my boss very pleased with me, b. earn some extra much-needed cash and c. potentially endanger the life of my child, or I could decline and a. disappoint my boss, b. forgo the increased paycheck, and c. keep Duet safe from dangerous art supplies. I guess I was in a gambling sort of mood because before I knew it, amid the panting (I was on the elliptical, you know) I managed to say yes.
As you know, I'm not an art teacher and at this point in the day I didn't have the faintest idea what I would be creating with the elementary school students in less than 2 hours. I only knew that if I wanted my child to survive the afternoon I needed to come up with a project that avoided the use of the art supplies that nearly led to her demise last time: scissors and small beads. For the remainder of my workout I toyed with some ideas, but it wasn't easy to come up with a craft that didn't require the use of scissors. In the end we made mobiles out of plastic tubes, yarn, cardboard tubes of various sizes, pompoms, and pipe cleaners. It was nothing Alexander Calder would be proud to call his own, but then again I'm sure Alexander Calder had the option of using scissors whenever he felt like it. In the end no one died or was even mildly injured, so I consider the class a huge success.

Did I declutter? The answer is yes. Despite my hectic work schedule today I did manage to spend 10 minutes going through some of our many toys and weeded a few out for immediate disposal.

The Test

2008-11-11T21:08:00.001-05:00

The day I've been putting off for quite some time finally arrived. Today I finally made my first post-compact trip to Target. We needed some toiletries, paper products, footwear, and winter gear. Where else am I going to find all of that in one place? Try as I might, I couldn't put off my inevitable trip to Target any longer. I compiled a list and my goal was to stick to it.

Since some of the items on my list are technically not consumable and I've declared that I won't buy any non-consumable items for the rest of 2008, allow me to explain. Recently as the weather has been getting colder I've noticed that we do need some winter clothing items. Some of them I can make (e.g. Una's scarf), others must be purchased. There's no getting around it. So I will be purchasing some essential winter gear in the coming weeks. Let me be clear though. I'm not getting a second pair of mittens simply because I think they're cuter than the ones I already own. I will only be buying a pair of mittens because my current pair has a giant hole in the thumb, thus rendering them ineffective in shielding me from the elements. So when it comes to clothing I'm not getting more of what we already have, I'm only getting the minimum of whatever item it is that we need. And even then I'm only buying it if I can't make it myself. With that introduction, I will explain the presence of the following items on the shopping list.
Mittens for Duet: We currently don't own any in her size. I contemplated trying to make some with the left-over pink fleece from the blanket I cut up yesterday, but I can't figure out how to do it since they need to be so tiny. I may still make an attempt at that. Even if that's successful, she'll need some water-proof mittens so she can play out in the snow.
Black tights and white tights for Una: Now that it's cold, she needs tights to cover her legs when she wears dresses and skirts. She outgrew all of the tights she's been wearing for the last 2 winters.
Black socks: Right now Bert is doing a lot of interviews and doesn't have enough black socks to go with his suit. He definitely needs black socks. I won't have him interviewing wearing brown socks with a black suit. Unacceptable. Black socks make the cut.
Shoes for Duet: She's in need of some nice shoes she can wear with dresses and skirts since her current shoes are getting too small. I've decided that I'm going to use the money my parents sent to spend on Christmas presents for the girls to buy some shoes for Duet. She loves shoes and spends a good part of the day taking them on and off. Duet will be happy to have some new shoes to play with, and I'll be happy to be getting something useful with the Christmas present money.

My list looked like this:
mittens for Duet
black tights and white tights for Una
black socks for Bert
shoes for Duet
2 travel mouth wash
1 travel shaving cream
1 travel toothpaste
napkins

Miracle of miracles, my receipt looks like this:
ski mitten
girls tights (black with silver sparkles--Una wanted them and since they'll go with her dresses, I said yes)
girls tights (white with pink and silver stripes--I got these in lieu of plain white because they were cheaper and they'll go with most of her skirts)
socks
socks
shoes
listerine
shaving cream
crest
napkins
paper towels
bread

Now I realize the paper towels and bread weren't on the original list. My neighbor broke her foot yesterday and while I was at Target I called her to see if she needed me to pick up anything for her. Those were her items. Did you notice that the lists are exactly the same? I'm ashamed to admit this, but I don't think I've ever left Target with only the items I intended to buy. I always manage to get one or two (or ten) extra items before I checkout. I was quite proud of myself. Were there tough moments? Absolutely. I almost got tripped up at the dollar spot, but I stayed the course and left empty handed. There's something about Target's smooth floor, the over-sized shopping carts, and the giant red signs overhead that make me want to buy more than I need. But I overcame all of that today and left a there a happy woman. One with considerably more money left in her wallet upon exiting the store.

My 10+ minutes de-cluttering today were spent in the basement. I shall not bore you with the details.

Crafting Genius Strikes Again

2008-11-10T22:32:00.007-05:00

A couple of weeks ago Una mentioned that she wanted a scarf. Since we do live at a latitude that is nearly halfway between the equator and the north pole I find that a reasonable request. In fact, now that she's reached the age of maturity when a scarf is no longer a strangulation hazard, I would go so far as to say that she needs a scarf. Since it's a legitimate need, I wasn't feeling too bad about the possibility of purchasing one, especially if I could find one at a second-hand store. But the compact-follower in me wanted to see if I could first cobble together of scarf of sorts with items I already have. If I'm really honest with myself and my readers, I'll let you know that making a scarf was my second choice. My first choice was taking a scarf that I've had my eye on for a few weeks from the lost and found box. Unfortunately for me (but fortunately for the scarf's owner), the scarf was claimed late last week (you should know that I would only take something from the lost and found if it had been sitting there for months). So with option number 1 out of the picture, I set out to determine how to make a scarf with items on hand. This would have been quite easy if I followed in the footsteps of Julia Roberts, Sarah Jessica Parker, Hillary Swank, or countless other celebrities and hipsters who have popularized knitting in recent years. I, however, am neither famous enough or hip enough to knit and therefore creating a scarf from yarn is not an option for me. Plus I don't have any yarn in my house.
Luckily I remembered that I can sew. I also remembered that a few years back my friend L and I oversaw a community service project where we made scarves out of fleece fabric. I just read through that last sentence and the phrase "community service" makes it sound like we were court-ordered to participate as retribution for some misdeed. That was not the case. Contrary to what you may think of me after the lost and found revelation, I can assure you that both L and I are reputable citizens who were making scarves out of the goodness of our hearts for the cold and needy children in the area. Off I went to the basement where my bin of fabric resides. Unfortunately we were all out of fleece. But I did see some funky tie-dye print jersey knit. I'm not sure why I had it, or what I was planning on doing with it, but I rejoiced in its existence just the same. I held the tie-dye scraps up to Una to see how long this scarf would need to be and she told me in a very matter of fact tone "this is not warm enough, mom." She of course was right. Some fleece (or at the very least, flannel) needed to be found quickly. And that's when I stumbled upon this:
When Una was born her then 8 year-old cousin from Bert's side of the family was learning how to sew and made this pink blanket for her. I thought it was the sweetest gift and have been unable to part with it. I used it with both Una and Duet, but they've now outgrown it and it doesn't get much use. It is, however warm and made of fleece. I rationalized that I could now turn the blanket into a scarf so Una would have a daily memory of her cousin and the thoughtful gesture. If you think I'm calloused for turning a child's gift into something useful because I'm too cheap to buy that item at the store and you're not buying that argument that it was really done in an effort to memorialize the 8 year-old's thoughtfulness, then you should know that we haven't seen or heard from this cousin's family in at lest 3 years so I hardly think anyone will be offended.
With the fleece and colorful jersey knit (2 items that were just sitting around cluttering up my space) in hand I cut them up into the right sizes, and sewed the pieces together with hot pink thread that I found in my basement (again, I have no idea where it came from), and ended up with this:It is a bit garish and over-the-top, but imagine for a moment that you are a 4 and 1/2 year old girl. Wouldn't you be thrilled to have a rainbow colored scarf with warm pink fleece? I thought so. The best part is that I copied a brilliant idea that I noticed last winter when my friend A brought her daughter over. Her scarf had built in pockets that doubled as hand-warmers. No mittens necessary for quick trips to and from the car. I loved it and incorporated it into my masterpiece.

Masterpiece is a stronger word than I should use to describe this scarf. Truthfully, it's not my best handiwork. I almost ran out of thread at the very end and had to hand sew the last bit. I hate hand sewing and I'm not that great at it. Bert volunteered to do that part since, as you may recall, he sews people. But in the end I finished it myself and I am happy to report that Una loves it. Of equal importance is the fact that I love that following the compact has unleashed a new wave of creativity in me. I'm becoming more reliant upon myself and my skill set and less reliant upon the readily made items at the store that evidently I don't really need to be buying after all. I've got those same post-pumpkin bag feelings. And let me tell you, in the words of James Brown, "I feel good."

In addition to putting 2 pieces of clutter to good use today, I also managed to de-clutter in Una's room for 10 minutes.

P.S. I promise not to mention this too many more times, but if you haven't already voted for me yet ( it only takes less than 1 minute to do so and even my technology-challenged 70 year-old mother managed to do it, so you know it must be easy) here's the skinny (as previously mentioned in Saturday's post One Tangent After Another): Somebody (I have my suspicions) nominated me for an award for best new blog. Please, if you like my blog (or even if you don't, but feel generous and would like to make someone, i.e. me, happy) follow this link and vote for me by scrolling down...way down...and clicking on the plus sign under "becomingmarypoppins." On second thought, don't scroll. Use that sweet tech tip I wrote about in October, and use the space bar to jump down to the bottom of the page where you can find my name. I just tested it out and you only need to hit the space bar 21 times. Who doesn't have time for that?

Christmas in November

2008-11-09T20:41:00.004-05:00

This afternoon Bert took Una out of the house and I found myself with 3 hours of peaceful bliss while Duet slept. I guess she's making up for her lack of nighttime sleep (I am happy to report though that for the last 2 days she's slept in until 6:15am. What a sad commentary on my life as of late that 6:15am is considered sleeping in). Anyway, after Duet fell asleep I really just wanted to curl up with John Steinbeck (I don't think it's possible for me to love East of Eden any more than I do. So far it's one of the best books I've ever read. But I haven't finished it yet, so if you know what happens at the end don't spoil anything for me. And can I just say that I was thrilled to discover that both Steinbeck and I chose the name Una for one of our characters? If he, the Nobel Laureate for literature chose Una and I too chose Una, then by the transitive property I'm practically a Nobel Laureate. I'm feeling like a better writer already). I looked at my book and the couch and the warm inviting blanket and then I remembered my new challenge.

With a heavy heart I trudged upstairs to Una's room where I could clear some things out uninterrupted. She had quite a few items I needed to part with without her there to protest their dismissal from the house. Chief among them were some broken preschool craft projects, torn books, and a puzzle with missing pieces (or more accurately contaminated pieces that were thrown out a few weeks ago due to this incident). I ended up working in there for over an hour (talk about exceeding my 10 minute de-cluttering goal) and came away discovering that:

1. The top of Una's dresser is a lovely shade of brown. It's amazing what projects, clothes, papers, kleenex, and post-it notes can hide.
2. We will not need to buy any Christmas presents for Una or Duet this year because like every good mammal, I have been squirrelling away goods over the last few months. All of those bargains that I just had to get have been sitting unused (and unseen by either child) on the top shelf of Una's closet waiting for the day when I would bestow them upon my girls. Of course since there's so much stuff in my house I'd completely forgotten what exactly was up there, but I uncovered some gems today and effectively did my Christmas shopping in the closet.
3. Una is in need of another dress and (now that the cold weather is upon us) some tights to go with that dress (this is truly a need. She only has two that fit her at the moment and one of those is a sleeveless summer dress). The good news is I spoke with my mom today and she's going to be sending money so that I can buy the girls some Christmas gifts from them (this is not laziness on her part. She has 21 grandchildren and 4--soon to be 5--great-grandchildren. She doesn't know what each child wants and so she lets the parents do the shopping for her. It's a system that works great for us). I've decided to use Una's money to get a Christmas dress and tights from her grandparents, Cougar and Bear (yes, that's what she calls them. It was her idea, I can assure you, not my parents'. Although they're totally into it. Especially my dad, Cougar). Una loves to wear dresses so she will be thrilled with this gift. And I am thrilled to be using the money for something she needs (as well as likes) instead of something that will just add to the clutter in my home. Win-win. Or, if you're a fan of The Office, I think you'll agree when I say that this is one of those rare scenarios that can be called "win-win-win."

This exercise today has left me wondering what other treasures I will unearth as I devote my 10 minutes per day to de-cluttering my home.

One Tangent After Another

2008-11-08T20:07:00.010-05:00

I'm not kidding, folks. Read on and you shall see what I mean.

The compact was conceived a couple of weeks ago and in that time span I've done exceptionally well limiting my purchases solely to consumable items.

What's the compact, you ask?

Well, if you haven't heard mention of the compact, you must be new to Becoming Mary Poppins. Welcome and might I add, congratulations! You will thoroughly enjoy your time here. I may not actually be able to fly with the aid of an umbrella, but I can entertain you for a few moments each day. That's almost as good of a skill to possess. You, new reader/friend can catch up with the rest of us by perusing this and this.

I digress...

Back to the issue at hand. After two weeks of working on vice 4, I'm ready to step it up and tackle other parts of the compact. Here's what I outlined earlier:

1. In reassessing my needs and wants I will ask serious questions before making purchases and when deciding what to keep/toss: Do I need it? Do I have another item that fulfills the same function? Do I have room for it? After yesterday's post, I'm adding the following question in an attempt to avoid buying 6 boxes of dishwasher detergent (or another insane amount of any consumable item): "Do I already have enough of this or a similar item?"
2. In getting rid of things we do not need I will spend at least 10 minutes each day systematically going through the items in my house asking the aforementioned questions and removing the unnecessary items (i.e. clutter) from my home.
3. In limiting my purchases to consumable items only for the rest of 2008 (read: no more clearance items from Target just because they're a good deal), I will simply not buy anything that we won't be using up. I've also recently started using cash for all purchases and have put my credit cards aside for the time being. I've read that people spend less money by using cash instead of credit cards.

The last two weeks I've focused on the third section and have enjoyed a modicum of success conquering this vice. True, I have bought some items in larger quantities than I need, but I have managed to keep my purchases limited to consumable items. In all honesty, I've found it quite freeing to use my time doing things other than shopping and bargain hunting. When it comes down to it, I don't need to be in the stores much and when I do, I'm much happier when I get what I need and then exit. Pushing, pulling, towing, carrying 2 kids around a store searching for bargains you may or may not use is just ridiculous. I'm happy to spend my time doing other things. Like playing with my favorite birthday present this year: Candy Land. I'm good at Candy Land. You may think it's all based on luck, but you'd be surprised at how much strategy you can actually employ. I totally beat Una yesterday (and that's even after she drew Princess Frostine--who I swear used to be called "Queen Frostine" when I was a kid. Or am I wrong about that?).

The other day I needed to go to the mall to pay a bill and drop off my wedding ring to be resized. After 6 years of marriage and 2 kids I've actually lost 10 lbs since my wedding day. Don't hate me. That lost weight was totally earned and well-deserved. After losing all of my baby weight with each pregnancy I mysteriously end up 5 lbs lighter than my pre-pregnancy weight for some reason. I think it's a reward for having extremely miserable, horrible, _______(fill in the blank with any negative adjective of your choice--I promise, they all work) pregnancies. At this rate, I should have two more kids and then maybe I can be the super flyweght boxer I've always dreamed of becoming. As I was saying, I went into the mall to run those 2 quick errands and I'll have you know that I exited within 15 minutes. It was a personal record for the fastest mall quickie. And I have to be honest with you. I haven't really missed the shopping. I hope to have many more mall quickies in the future.

Now I'm moving on to section 2. Without further ado, I introduce you to vice 5: clinging to copious amounts of clutter. I will overcome this vice by spending 10 minutes each day systematically going through the items in my house and removing any clutter from my home. There you have it. As usual, I will be reporting on this so that you can track my progress and celebrate my successes. Notice I didn't say "mourn my failures." I'm thinking positive here.

On a final note: Somebody (I have my suspicions) nominated me for an award for best new blog. Please, if you like my blog (or even if you don't, but feel generous and would like to make someone, i.e. me, happy) follow this link and vote for me by scrolling down...way down...and clicking on the plus sign under "becomingmarypoppins." On second thought, don't scroll. Use that sweet tech tip I wrote about in October, and use the space bar to jump down to the bottom of the page where you can find my name. I just tested it out and you only need to hit the space bar 21 times. Who doesn't have time for that?

And to the nominator (I like that word because it reminds me of denominator and I just mentioned a plus sign and the title of this post contains the word tangent, so now I'm thinking about math): whoever you are, thank you.

Know When to Say When

2008-11-07T22:39:00.007-05:00

So it's been a couple of weeks since I first decided to curb my spending dramatically. And I've had no major mishaps. I've managed to stick with my goal to purchase only consumable items. However, I'm finding the urge to buy more than I need (even of consumable items) is still persistent. I'm no longer buying bargain toys or t-shirts or temporary tattoos, but I'm still struggling with the concept of buying "enough." The other day (in a moment of weakness) I actually bought 6 boxes of dishwasher detergent. Yes dishwasher detergent is consumable. But I'm not sure why I thought I needed 6 boxes. No one needs to purchase 6 boxes at the same time. They don't even sell cases of dishwasher detergent that big at Costco. At the time it seemed like a good idea. An hour later it didn't. To rectify the situation I decided to make a return. How many boxes did I return? 3 or 4 may have been a reasonable guess, but no, I only returned one. I'm still not sure what I was thinking. I guess subconsciously I'm expecting to clean a lot of dishes.

I suspect there may be more at play here. There's certainly some reason why I consistently buy more than I need, even when the item isn't necessarily fun to buy. No one wakes up excited to go on a shopping spree for dishwasher detergent. I need to start understanding what constitutes enough. Whether it's a consumable item or not, I think the crux of the problem may be that I just don't know when to say when. So before making another purchase, I'm going to get in the habit of asking myself "do I already have enough of this or a similar item?" Perhaps 50% of the time I'll answer that question by putting the item(s) back on the shelf. I think that once I can discern how much is enough, I'll be more content with what I have. And who doesn't want contentment?

Anyone out there need to borrow some dishwasher detergent? You know where to find me. I'm the idiot hiding behind a cardboard wall comprised solely of dishwasher detergent boxes.

Must See TV

2008-11-06T22:25:00.003-05:00

Are you watching 30 Rock? My favorite line from tonight's episode (delivered by Tracy Morgan) "I watched Boston Legal 9 times before I realized it wasn't a new Star Trek." Classic. I have a big deadline tomorrow and should be working on that project, but I just had to take a break to watch 30 Rock and then write a short bit about it. You can watch full episodes online. Which is what I usually do, because no matter how hard I try, I can't get the TV antenna to deliver perfect reception. Bert and I watch a fuzzy live version on Thursday night on our adequately-sized TV and then we watch the tiny, yet clear picture on our computer screen on Friday. What can I say? It's an imperfect world. But 30 Rock itself is near perfection.

Yes We Can

2008-11-05T12:38:00.003-05:00

As you can imagine, I'm thrilled. This is so much better than the last presidential election. Four years ago I woke up in the morning to find out that sometime in the night Ohio had been declared a red state (it was still contested when I had gone to bed late the night before). Back then I saw the news that morning and then just went back to bed and wept. This morning, despite having been up late, I was jubilant when I was awakened early (yet again) by Duet.

When we were joined by Una I got to break the news to her myself. It went something like this:
MP: Remember how we voted yesterday?
Una: Uh-huh
MP: Guess who won?
Una: Obama?
MP: an affirmative nod
Una: Obama won? (face lights up with genuine enthusiasm) He's going to be our next president! (turning to Duet) Duet, Obama's going to be our next president!
Duet: Omama!

We're all feeling a bit celebratory:Duet is obviously jealous of my shirt. Let the clothes-borrowing begin.

Una is happily eating her O-shaped grilled cheese sandwich (Bert's creation)

I don't have a picture of me celebrating but let me say it went something like this: I ate way too much food last night (including treats, what can I say? I faltered. But really it was like a holiday for me so I don't think it really counts) sprawled out on the couch in front of the TV for hours watching the election results come in. Sorry I didn't immortalize that image for you in a photo.

And now I will end on a sappy note: As I've mentioned before, I'm quite into politics. I studied political science in graduate school and I'm usually well informed each election about major candidates and issues. This is the first year I've been this excited about a candidate. Don't get me wrong, I was a big fan of Kerry, but there's something so hopeful about Obama. Without boring you with the details, I'll just sum things up by saying that I have researched his stance on several issues and I support his policies. Additionally, I truly believe he has the power to unite this country and turn things around. He's so positive and hopeful as well as practical. I've been impressed with the way he's conducted himself and how he's run his campaign. I'm hoping that's an indication of how he will act as our president.

And for those of you out there who are less than thrilled with the outcome (I know how it feels, I've been there), rest assured that Obama-related posts will be few and far between from this point on. I do reserve the right to post on the inauguration day. A day that can't come soon enough.

VOTE!!!

2008-11-04T12:16:00.004-05:00

I've been feeling pretty popular lately. Yesterday alone I got phone calls from both Joe Biden and Barack Obama. Unfortunately I wasn't home to field Obama's call myself but in a way that's better because now I have his message saved on my voice mail. Of course I saved it. He sounded so real and I loved the way he said "bye, bye." That was my honest impression of the call. You can't make that stuff up, folks.

We took the girls this morning to the polling place and cast our votes. After 45 minutes in line it was our turn (don't you just love how everyone is coming out to vote? Long lines at a polling place. What could be better? I'm totally serious, by the way. No sarcasm today). Bert voted with Una. She helped him fill out the bubbles and when I asked who she voted for she said "Obama and Biden and Pam somebody. I can't remember her last name."

Duet would like to remind you to exercise your right to vote today for the candidate you prefer. So those weren't her exact words, but she did say "Omama" and point at his picture on the flier we found hanging on our door. Now, go vote. Especially if you live in a swing state and are voting for Obama.

I Curse Thee, Daylight Savings Time Change

2008-11-03T19:28:00.000-05:00

My kids are not adjusting to the new time, therefore neither am I. Despite going to bed at the usual bedtime, Una woke up this morning at 6:15. Lucky me! In truth, I'd already been up with Duet for an hour so Una's emergence from her bedroom was not my initial wake up call. My mom says that the fall daylight savings time change is her favorite day of the year because she gets an extra hour of sleep. She must have started saying that after we kids were old enough to get up on our own and fix ourselves breakfast without waking her first. After these past 2 mornings, I'm starting to wonder how old Una needs to be before I can put her in charge of the breakfast duties for her and Duet while I snooze away.

Hook Envy

2008-11-02T17:39:00.000-05:00

So Mrs Furious has been raving about the 3M Command hooks as of late. As you know, I've been trying to keep this compact (reference it here and here) and part of that means only buying necessities (and trying to only buy consumable items for the rest of 2008) and getting the clutter out of my home (in an attempt to finally have a place for everything and everything in its place). Mrs F has come up with some great uses for the Command hooks and I was thinking that they could ultimately help me in my quest to be more organized. But before I went out to purchase some (I figured I could possibly justify them as a need) I wanted to explore my options at home and see if I had something similar already on hand. My searching uncovered these babies:I apologize for the sideways image. I don't know why Blogger won't let me rotate the image. I've tried multiple times. I was thrilled to know Bert had already purchased them a year or so ago. I thought I'd use them to hang up Una's and Duet's backpacks, but unfortunately the weight limit on these micro hooks is only 1/2 lb. Not acceptable. I'm certain I will find a good use for these micro hooks sometime soon. Back to the drawing board with the backpack hook. After rummaging around some more in Una's closet I found this:

It was one of those purchases we made while I was pregnant with Una. At the time it seemed useful, but we've never had a great practical application for it, until now. It's like it was meant to solve this backpack hanging problem of mine. That's not all folks. Leaning against the wall in our basement was this darling number:My artistic good friend/former neighbor K painted it and had these hooks hanging in her home. She passed it on to us when she moved 2 1/2 years ago. That's right. I'm embarrassed to say it's just been sitting in my basement for 2 1/2 years. Sorry K, we've always liked it but we were just too lazy to install it. Bert did so this weekend just in time for the cold weather. Now things look much tidier since Una can now put away her coat and Duet's without parental assistance.

Again and again this compact thing keeps working out in my favor. Anytime I want something I first look for a way to solve the problem with things I already have. First the pumpkin bags and now the hooks. I was able to find the supplies to make the pumpkin bags and this weekend I was able to find 14 unused hooks that were perfectly suited to my needs. It's quite satisfying to discover a solution that relies on my own ingenuity instead of some lazy trip to the store to purchase something that I already own somewhere in my house. I'm realistic and I know that one of these days I won't be able to find the solution in my basement. But at that point I'll head to the store knowing that the money I'm about to spend won't be wasted.

If you couldn't tell by now, I'm loving this compact challenge.

At Least It's Not Vodka I'm After

2008-11-01T21:04:00.000-04:00

Duet has not slept in past 5:00am in over a week. Translation: I have not slept in past 5:00am in over a week. I've had enough. The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was eat a giant frosted sugar cookie. It's the Mary Poppins version of starting my day off with a good, stiff drink.
I'm not a drinker, but on mornings like these I can understand the need. I probably inherited that sympathy from my grandpa, Edgar. And no, that's not a fictional name. That's the real deal, folks. One morning when my cousin was 10, our grandpa asked him to bring him a screwdriver. My innocent 10 year-old cousin (did I mention that he was 10?) produced a phillips-head screwdriver. Apparently Edgar was less than thrilled to have a household tool in his hand instead of the desired glass of orange juice and vodka.
Many sleep-deprived years later I can sympathize with him a bit. I'm not sure that I would have been able to make it through the day had I not been able to perk myself up with a pre-breakfast sugar cookie. Thankfully with my vice there's no possibility for object confusion. If I ask 4 year-old Una to fetch me a sugar cookie, you can bet I'll be getting a sugar cookie, and not something else.

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T20:13:00.001-04:00

Love, Una (who identified herself alternately as the "unicorn with wings" or the "pegasus-unicorn") pictured with her beloved painted pumpkin
and Duet (the dinosaur or dragon, depending on who you ask). Yes, that's me in the background wearing turquoise pants. And no, they weren't part of a costume. I had just come from teaching a dance class and that was my ensemble today.
Witness the pumpkin bags hard at work (huge success and might I add again the perfect size for little ones. When I'm trying to control my sugar consumption, the last thing I need to bring into my house is a gigantic bag full of candy. No, make that 2 gigantic bags full of candy). Too bad it was 60 degrees today and my kids were dressed for trick-or-treating at the north pole. They didn't seem to mind.

No money was spent today in the production of this Halloween merriment. The pumpkin and candy to distribute to trick-or-treaters were purchased earlier this week for a total of less than $10 (I'm going to go ahead and call those needs, you may argue with that decision, but that's my stance). Una's unicorn with wings/pegasus-unicorn costume was a hand-me-down from a dear friend (thanks again K, Una adored it and we got tons of compliments) and Duet wore the same dinosaur/dragon costume that Una sported when she was that age. For the record, Duet also got compliments, including "that's the cutest dinosaur I've ever seen." I decided not to be offended by the use of the word "that" in lieu of the pronoun "she" since it's admittedly not the most girly costume out there and with the hood up it's impossible to see her little ponytail.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, it's now 8:30pm and I haven't eaten a single piece of their candy yet. Since I had a piece of apple pie for lunch (yes, lunch) I'm holding off on eating the candy. At least until tomorrow.

A Lazy Parent's Guide to Halloween Decorating

2008-10-30T19:26:00.000-04:00

Most people are more clever than I am. Especially when it comes to holiday decorating. I don't have a knack for it, and I've made my peace with that fact. Currently all of the Halloween decorations adorning our walls are pumpkin-related. They were also all made by Una. At preschool. I love abdicating most of my kid crafting responsibilities to preschool. I just don't have the energy for initiating craft time most days.
Today, however, the clock was ticking and something had to be done about the absence of a pumpkin on our porch. I decided a couple of years ago that I didn't want to go the pumpkin carving route with our kids. I don't particularly enjoy the process (time consuming, messy, smelly) and I didn't see how it could be much fun for my kids when they are relegated to observing the entire process due to their lack of knife handling skills. So for the past couple of years we've done a lazy version of pumpkin decorating and have let Una paint her pumpkin instead. It's the easiest activity and I highly recommend it to all. Put down some newspaper and get out some paint and brushes. The bib is optional (we don't have any smocks so I thought this would be a good substitute. I was wrong. The bottom half of her shirt is now splattered with purple paint), but the 80's-style sweatband with the NBA logo is a must. Obviously. When I asked her why she was wearing it, she remarked "I just like the picture. What's it a picture of, mom? Someone holding something. I guess a ball or a bubble." That would be a man dribbling a basketball, but holding a bubble is a good guess.
This year she was so into the pumpkin painting. I can't emphasize enough how much she loved it. Here are some direct quotes gathered during the 75 minutes she spent painting her pumpkin (I kid you not, she was occupied for over an hour with this activity).

What an artist! (I must have heard this line at least a dozen times)
I just love artists.
I'm a beautiful artist.
I'm such an artist. Uh-huh. I am.
I just love this pumpkin so much.
Won't it be beautiful?
It will be beautiful with colors all around it.
I want everyone in the world to see it.

She then started a discussion about Santa Claus that continued for several minutes. I don't know about you, but pumpkin painting on the eve of Halloween always gets me thinking about Santa.

I spoke to a good friend of mine on the phone last night and told her about my blog. In doing so, I specifically said it wasn't entirely about my kids. However, I've been writing an awful lot about them lately. I think it's because Halloween is coming up and that's such a kid-centric holiday. For those of you who are more interested in reading about me (honestly, who could blame you?), I will be returning to more Mary Poppins-centric posts after Halloween.

Spending Status: yesterday I went to the grocery store and only spent money on groceries. I then went to the gas station and filled up my car with gas. I should disclose that I bought a sandwich for dinner (I was out by myself for the afternoon--thank you Bert--and I had to grab something to eat before going to teach a night class), but I used a gift card that I have had for a while so I kept my spending to a minimum. So far in my attempt to keep the compact I've been avoiding shopping trips. That strategy has been working well, but I fear the day I have to make a run to Target for some essentials. I'm hoping that day doesn't arrive soon.

Hold Your Tongue, Mary

2008-10-29T13:33:00.000-04:00

I'm sure none of you struggle with this problem, but occasionally I say something without thinking it through first. Such was the case last night. Una was watching me as I finished sewing the spectacular pumpkin trick-or-treating bags featured in yesterday's post. "Careful, mom. You don't want to hurt your fingers," she cautioned me (Una is and always has been the cautious one. Now if I could only get some of that caution to rub off on Duet) as my hands guided the fabric toward the the needle that was moving up and down. I thanked her for her reminder and explained that I was going to be fine since I kept my fingers away from the needle. Minutes later she asked me how old she would need to be when she could learn how to sew. Then Una followed up that inquiry with this: "Does Dad know how to sew?" I continued to focus on my sewing, and with the needle bobbing and the machine whirring in front of me I answered: "Sort of. He sews people." (Now would be a good time to mention to you readers that Bert is training to become a surgeon. Of course Una knows this, she just doesn't know what being a surgeon actually entails). Why I decided to describe his profession in this manner, I cannot say. Clearly I wasn't thinking. She wore a horrified look on her face and for once in her life she was speechless. Bert, unsatisfied with my comments (and rightfully so), stepped in and offered Una a better, less frightening, description. Not my finest parenting moment.

Plastic Pumpkin Problem

2008-10-28T18:16:00.000-04:00

Last week Duet broke Una's plastic pumpkin bucket. You know the kind: the receptacle favored by children everywhere for collecting and storing their Halloween treats. I think we purchased ours for 99 cents a few years ago and I wasn't heartbroken when the handle broke. I threw it away, intending to buy 2 this year (one for Una, one for Duet). That of course was my pre-compact thought process.
This morning Una inquired about the broken pumpkin bucket. I told her I threw it out since it was broken and I stopped myself just before uttering "we'll go buy you a new one." Now I'm no expert on the difference between needs and wants, but at that moment I was certain that a plastic pumpkin bucket did not constitute a necessity. Remembering my compact I instead said "we'll make a special bag that you can take trick-or-treating." What exactly would making this "special bag" entail? I didn't really have any ideas. Una offered that it should be sturdy and hence, made out of wood. On second thought I had at least one idea: something made of cloth, not wood.
Together we went to the basement where I foraged through scraps of fabric to see if anything fit the bill.
Found: orange, green, and black fabric;
Found: orange thread;
Found: white ribbon from our stockpile of gift wrapping supplies;
Borrowed: green thread from my neighbor (thank you Jill).
Together Una and I picked out the fabric and cut the pieces. I then designed the layout and sewed them together using only my sheer ingenuity, my friends. Tilt your head to the left and witness the plastic pumpkin replacement:
Blogger annoyingly wouldn't let me rotate the image. But you get the idea.
I've never claimed to be Martha Stewart, but I'm pretty pleased with the final product (the photo doesn't capture all of the details. Imagine how great they look when they're facing the right way). Maybe I'm a little bit crafty after all. Who knew I had that latent talent? Although this took a lot longer than it would have to simply go and buy the plastic pumpkins at the store, I'm thrilled for several reasons:
1. I didn't spend any money and so I kept to the compact;
2. I made good use of fabric that had been sitting around for years;
3. I had fun coming up with a creative solution to the plastic pumpkin problem;
4. These cloth bags will take up way less storage space than those plastic pumpkins;
5. I feel like a Halloween crafting genius;
6. Una and I had a great experience making these that we would have missed out on if we'd just bought buckets at the store.

I'll just say it: I'm proud of myself today.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2008-10-27T19:48:00.000-04:00

Gotta love David Bowie. And Flight of the Conchords for their fabulous Bowie-inspired episode that includes the song "Bowie" (Bowie's in space).
Enough of that tangential talk.
As you can see, we at bMP have been very busy incorporating some new changes. Bert designed my new header and I love it. Even more than the aforementioned Flight of the Conchords episode and song combined. That's a fierce kind of love, baby. If you look to your right you'll see that I've added some helpful information to my sidebar. It's almost everything you ever wanted to know about Mary Poppins. Almost.
For those of you wondering if I've continued in my quest to overcome the vices I've blogged about in the past, check out "How Well is Mary Poppins Progressing?" for daily updates on my workouts and the sugar situation (sadly, I couldn't figure out a way to realistically update you about the status of the dishes/dishwasher. Suffice it to say, it's so much better than it was a month ago).

And now, my spending status for yesterday: we didn't visit any stores yesterday, so this was a non-issue. Driving home from our vacation we did stop at Taco Bell to grab lunch. But that came to under 7 bucks for the whole family (paid for with cash). And we consumed it. It was more of a need than a want. Who doesn't need to run south of the border for a chalupa when they're on a road trip? OK, so I didn't really order the chalupa. I got a boring bean burrito--hold the onions. But I enjoy typing and saying the word "chalupa." Silly, isn't it (the word is silly, not the fact that I enjoy typing and saying it)?

The Compact Part II

2008-10-26T21:00:00.000-04:00

I'm back. Did you miss me? We had a stellar vacation. The kind that's actually relaxing. Well, as relaxing as possible with a 4 year-old and a 19 month-old in tow.
Things were off to a great start. Duet got car sick and threw up on herself and the car seat 10 minutes from our destination. After cleaning her off at the gas station (as if one can really clean anything at the gas station, but with limited options, this seemed like the lesser of the two evils), we arrived at the house ready to bathe the girls (particularly poor Duet). We soon discovered that I'd I foolishly left all of the toiletries which had been so thoroughly packed by yours truly at home. Of course. It only makes sense that the one time I forgot the toiletries would be the one time we were in desperate need of them upon our arrival.
This unfortunate circumstance led me to my my first compact test. I went to the store to pick up the basics (toothbrushes and toothpaste, deodorant, etc.--only consumable items, mind you) and placed some barrettes for Duet in the cart (because they were smaller than the ones at home which don't fit her that well) and a comb for Una (since we usually comb through her long hair when we condition it during bath time). I walked toward the checkout and realized that I didn't actually need the barrettes or the comb. Yes, they would have been nice to have, but I reasoned that we could find a way to get along fine without them. They didn't qualify as necessities in the same way that say toothbrushes and toothpaste do. So, I flipped a u-turn with my cart and placed them back on the shelf. It felt surprisingly good to stick with my plan. And you know what? Duet's hair was just fine in a pony-tail holder and after combing through Una's hair with my fingers, her hair was properly conditioned that night during her bath. Problems solved.

And now I'm ready to outline my plan of attack for the compact.
1. In reassessing my needs and wants I will ask serious questions before making purchases and when deciding what to keep/toss: Do I need it? Do I have another item that fulfills the same function? Do I have room for it?
2. In getting rid of things we do not need I will spend at least 10 minutes each day systematically going through the items in my house asking the aforementioned questions and removing the unnecessary items (i.e. clutter) from my home.
3. In limiting my purchases to consumable items only (read: no more clearance items from Target just because they're a good deal), I will simply not buy anything that we won't be using up. I've also recently started using cash for all purchases and have put my credit cards aside for the time being. I've read that people spend less money by using cash instead of credit cards.

Simple.

Now to make it even simpler: I've decided that this week I'm tackling #3. By focusing on only one thing at a time I think I'll have a better chance of succeeding. This week each time I go to the store (or get the urge to shop online) I'll remember that I'm only purchasing consumable items. If it's not consumable, I'm putting it back. End of story.

Tonight it was nice to come home. I was even greeted by a long lost friend when I walked in the door: our bag of toiletries.

The Compact Part I

2008-10-23T12:56:00.000-04:00

Over the last year or so I've been reading a lot about simplifying. I truly crave a more simplified life. What exactly do I mean by that? I want to get by with fewer things. I want my home to have a place for everything and have everything in its place. I want to spend more moments enjoying my family and less time searching for the paper that should have been signed and turned into preschool last week. I totally subscribe to the notion that I should "live simply, so that others may simply live." I've been meaning to do it, too. It's just eluded me on many levels. But no longer. After tackling 3 challenges in almost 6 weeks of blogging, I think I can safely say that I'm capable of making positive changes in my life (still working out 4x a week, still staying on top of the dishes/dishwasher situation for the most part, and sticking to the 1 treat rule on weekdays). Being accountable to you readers most definitely helps me stay on track. Again, thank you for keeping me honest.

Tuesday night Bert and I were talking about how we were sick of financial stress as well as stress that comes from living in a cluttered space. Yes we do live in a small space and that makes it a bit tricky to keep things under control. But other people manage it. And so will I. You may recall that a few weeks ago I worked on keeping my dishes and the top of the dishwasher in check. It was tough, and it's still a bit of a struggle, but it's so much better than it used to be. As I type this my sink is empty, my dishwasher is running, and the top is clutter-free. Things are much better on that front than they were a month ago. In that small way, I improved and I will continue to improve in other areas as well. Here's the problem with the clutter on the dishwasher scenario. Although it's a step in the right direction, it's not getting at the root of the problem.

Yesterday while checking out Mrs. Furious's blog, she linked to this and this and everything started coming together for me. I realized that I have way too much stuff in my home already and then compounding the problem is the fact that I'm bringing in too many items. Of course I've read about this (in the last year or so I've read all of the following books on this subject: Not Buying It: My Year Without Shopping; Give It Up!: My Year of Learning to Live Better With Less; Affluenza; The Overspent American: Why We Want What We Don't Need), but I haven't done anything concrete about it. Mrs. F. and I spoke for a long time yesterday afternoon about ways in which we can commit to living more simply and consuming less. Last night I filled Bert in on what Mrs. F and I had been discussing and how it pertained to the conversation Bert and I were having about clutter and finance-related stress. Today I'm tackling the clutter problem at its root. Although I'm not following verbatim this compact, I will seriously be:
1. reassessing my needs and wants;
2. getting rid of things we do not need (in the process I hope to declutter the house);
3. limiting my purchases for the rest of 2008 (and possibly beyond) solely to consumable items (consumable items include diapers, toilet paper, food, etc. Consumable items do not include "good deals" or impulse buys at Target for me; new toys for the children; or new CDs for Bert).

You may ask, "But Mary Poppins, what are you going to do about the holidays?" I've already purchased most of our Christmas presents for our families (I will need to get 2 more and I will do that because I'm not going to give one sibling something spectacular while the other sibling gets a used book that I'm trying to clear out of my home. I am, however, going to stick with the budget that I've set for those presents.). Everyone else is getting non-consumable or homemade items from us. I know that at this moment you're all wishing that you were on my Christmas gift list.

The Poppins crew is going out of town for the weekend so I'll be posting again on Sunday evening upon our return. At that time I'll post The Compact Part II where I'll outline the specific ways in which I plan to accomplish the aforementioned goals. And I will tackle them one at a time, Mary Poppins-style. You can hardly wait.

sugar situation: yesterday I ate some one smores bar. Think Rice Krispy treats made out of Golden Grahams and then add some chocolate chips. Sickeningly sweet=delicious in my book.

Mystery Solved

2008-10-22T19:46:00.000-04:00

A couple of days ago Una had just completed a puzzle in her room and some of the pieces were wet. Upon investigation I couldn't determine the source of the liquid. When I asked her about it she pled not guilty and she genuinely seemed as perplexed as I.

Today Duet escaped upstairs. When I ran after her a few moments later I solved the mystery of the wet puzzle pieces.

She was dunking them in the toilet like they were oreos in a giant glass of milk.

I wonder what else has been dunked lately...

sugar situation: yesterday I ate (I'll be really honest about this) 2 tiny cinnamon-sugar doughnuts. They were really small though. Way smaller than your average doughnut. So I decided that 2 really counted as one average doughnut. If you do not agree, I do not care.

P.S. I had a L-O-N-G conversation with Mrs. Furious today about my next challenge. This is going to be big and I'm posting about it tomorrow afternoon before I leave for vacation. You do not want to miss out.

The Enormous Bowl Made Me Eat Too Much Ice Cream!

2008-10-21T18:11:00.000-04:00

Like most Americans, I love having someone or something to blame for my problems. I happily stumbled across Mindless Eating by Brian Wansink and read it over the weekend. In doing so, I learned that I am not entirely to blame for my uncontrolled sweet snacking. Is there better news than this? I think not. While it wasn't the best book I've ever read, it is backed by some serious academic research and I found some points to be quite enlightening. Although some of these ideas may seem basic, his research proved time and again that we're all fooled by our eating environment. I was intrigued by how consistent the results were with each of his experiments. I don't want to spoil the whole thing for you, but here are some fun facts and how I applied them to my life:

1. The average person makes 200 food choices daily. So of course some of those decisions are going to be wrong. No one is perfect 100% of the time. Especially when they're at it 200 times a day. I can't be blamed entirely for making some poor food choices. With those numbers, it's bound to happen.

2. People always eat more snacks that are kept within reach/sight. So having a plate of sugar cookies sitting on my counter isn't such a great idea after all? I can't help eating them if they're right there. It's the cookie's fault for being there, not my fault for eating it.

3. Humans are conditioned to like sweet foods. My sweet tooth is totally genetic.

4. People eat more or less based on bowl/plate size. The larger the bowl/plate, the more you'll eat. I'm not to blame for my increased ice cream consumption. My over-sized bowls are.

5. People always underestimate the number of calories they consume. We all suck at this. Not just me.

This is all based on science, folks. Guess I won't be feeling too guilty after all. But now that I've learned these facts, I'm going to use them to help me resist the urge to overindulge on sweets. Fighting that battle will be easier if I employ these tactics:

1. Be more conscious of the food decisions I do make. Don't just mindlessly grab a handful of candy and start snacking on it.

2. Keep treats behind cupboards and in opaque containers so that I don't have constant reminders that they are in the house.

3. Allow myself an occasional treat (this is what I'm trying to do), but remember the first few bites are always the best. There's no need to overdo it.

4. Serve myself ice cream in a mug, not an enormous bowl; serve myself cookies, cake, etc. on a small plate, not a large one.

5. Truthfully, I'm not going to worry so much about calories. But I am going to stick to my one treat rule on the weekdays and that will ensure that I don't go overboard on my calorie consumption.

Here's to learning that I'm not entirely to blame. And here's to using that knowledge in a way that will help me steer clear of temptation (hopefully 199 times out of 200).

sugar situation: yesterday I ate an apple dipped in caramel sauce. Such a great fall treat.

MKMYDAY

2008-10-20T19:15:00.000-04:00

You know you're sharing the road with friendly drivers when you glance in the rear view mirror and see that the giant pick up truck behind you has a personalized license plate that reads "RNNOVRU."

At that moment, I didn't feel very secure in my Honda Civic.

You know how they say that a smile from a stranger can make your day? Surprisingly enough, a warning that the menacing monster truck intends to "RNNOVRU" has the opposite effect.

The scariest part of this is, given the spelling of the aforementioned vanity plate, I can only assume there is another like-minded person on the road. One whose license plate reads "RUNOVRU."

sugar situation: yesterday I ate 1/2 of a peanut butter cookie. It's getting easier to keep my treat-intake in check.

Meet Mary Poppins's People

2008-10-19T18:30:00.000-04:00

It's time. After a few weeks of blogging, I'm officially tired of writing out the phrases "my oldest daughter," "my 4 year-old," "my youngest daughter," "my 18 month-old," "my angel," "my headache," etc. OK, so I'm pretty sure I never used the last two descriptions, although sometimes both are adorable angels and at other times they are definitely headache-inducing creatures. I'm in need of some consistent pseudonyms for my girls.

In keeping with the Mary Poppins theme the obvious choice is, of course, to go with the names of the Banks children (Jane and Michael). I see two problems with that suggestion, however. 1. I have 2 girls, not one child of each sex. I could overcome that issue by turning Michael into Michelle or Mikel, but that still wouldn't be enough to get me over hurdle number two. 2. Bert's mother's name is Jane. Don't get too excited. This isn't going to be some mother-in-law bashing harangue. I just can't see myself calling either of my girls by their grandma's name. There's a reason I didn't name them after my mother-in-law to begin with. If Jane wasn't right for them then, it's certainly not right for them now. So, I'm breaking tradition and moving on with some non-Mary Poppins themed names for my kids. Allow me to introduce Una (my first daughter) and Duet (my second).

I thought of several other names for her before deciding on the less-clever Una. I could have called her something that suited her personality such as "Little Miss Inquisitive" (she asks questions constantly. Once I tried to keep track of the number of questions she asks in a day. I lost count around 50 and it was well before noon). But Little Miss Inquisitive is too lengthy to write. So she shall simply be known as Una. Some of Una's favorite things include:
singing (she has the entire ABBA Gold CD memorized),
reading (she's especially fond of poems),
designing objects out of household items (such as a high-heeled shoe made out of a block taped onto a piece of paper).
helping out with Duet.

My father calls Duet "Sir Edmund Hillary" after the first known climber (along with his Sherpa Tenzing Norgay) to successfully scale Mt. Everest. She is indeed a climber. But I didn't want to promote gender confusion by calling her Sir, and Hillary is fine, but as you know I'm an Obama supporter. Besides, do I always want her to be defined by her climbing tendencies as a toddler? Her interests could change, after all. So as a play on the number 2 I've chosen Duet. I thought about dos or deux, but I don't like how either of those sound. Although Duet technically isn't the number 2, it sounds feminine and I like it. Duet's interests include:
following Una around,
incessantly begging for cake (she takes after me, I guess)
dancing (she can shimmy like nobody's business),
requesting music each time she sees an iPod or a stereo (this usually sounds like "A song" meaning she wants to listen to Vampire Weekend's "A-Punk").

Bert, who you've already met, likes to write, travel, bake, watch 30 Rock and (this is a direct quote from him said in an Isaac Hayes-esque voice) "make sweet love to his lady."

And for a little more about Mary: In addition to my previously declared love for Bert, Una, Duet, sweets, and politics, I love all things from the 1970s--music, fashion, TV shows (it doesn't get better than the Brady Bunch or the Partridge Family. Don't even get me started on the original Charlie's Angels. I love them all!).

And with that I will sign off by wishing you a wonderful evening and urging you to "come on, get happy!"

Weekend Update

2008-10-18T19:08:00.000-04:00

After eating a Godiva Hazelnut Truffle this afternoon and then coming home to freshly baked peanut butter cookies homemade by Bert and the kids while I was out, I decided that I am allowed more than one treat on the weekend days. Come on, had you been in my shoes, you know you would have made the same decision too.

Sugar Situation: yesterday I ate one piece of a delicious gourmet caramel apple that my neighbor made. I am on a roll (except, of course, for the weekends).

P.S. Tomorrow I promise to post about something other than my insomnia and sugar intake.

Hmm...

2008-10-17T22:23:00.000-04:00

Turns out that if you stop eating 6 giant frosted sugar cookies a day (or the equivalent amount of cake, chocolate, candy, ice cream, you name it, I've consumed it), you lose 1 and 1/2 pounds in less than a week. Go figure. I've got one word for that: serendipitous.

Sugar situation: yesterday I only had 1/2 of a doughnut at my daughter's preschool function. Ordinarily that would have made me proud, but this morning my friend told me her daughter was in tears last night because they ran out of doughnuts. Now instead of feeling pride in exercising self-control, I just feel like a jerk who steals treats from kids. And makes them cry. I can't win.

Insomniac

2008-10-16T17:42:00.000-04:00

Last night I tried going to bed shortly after the debate but couldn't fall asleep until 3:00am. Needless to say, I'm a bit out of sorts today. This will be a quickie because I'm on way way out the door for an event this evening and you can bet I'll be climbing into bed as soon as I get home (the jury's still out on whether or not I'll stop off in the bathroom to brush my teeth before climbing under the covers. I'm that tired.)
I'm sure this wasn't the welcome home that Bert envisioned. I'm a zombie right now due to the total lack of sleep. Even though I'm not as enthusiastic as I'd normally be to see him, I'm still glad he's home. You'd better believe that someone other than me will be getting up with my kids tomorrow morning. I'll be sleeping in till 8:00. Funny. I can't believe I'm at the age where 8:00am feels like sleeping in.
Sugar situation: Yesterday I drank one mug of delicious hot chocolate while I watched the debate. That's it. I considered eating a chocolate pecan turtle too, thinking that the hot chocolate was just a drink and not really a treat. But in the end I resisted the temptation.

Omama!

2008-10-15T20:43:00.000-04:00

Look at his smile. That is one happy man. When you notice the strategic placement of his face, I think it's pretty obvious why he's so happy.

I recently got this shirt not to showcase my physique, but instead to showcase my Obama pride. Much to my parents' chagrin I am a registered Democrat. And I can understand their disappointment. I'm inculcating my daughters with Democrat ideals at an early age. And I would be sad if years down the road they turned against that and started voting Republican. (This isn't a rant against Republicans, by the way. I dearly love many Republicans, I just don't happen to agree with their ideology).
From the time she was 3, my oldest would respond "Democrats" when asked "who do we vote for?" We've talked about how women weren't always allowed to vote and so in our day it's especially important that we exercise the right that so many women before us fought so hard to attain. I take her to the polling place every election day and have her stand next to me as I cast my vote. That could have backfired on me the year I accidentally marked the "Republican ticket" box, thereby voting for every Republican on the ballot. Luckily I realized my mistake before my vote was counted. And thankfully she was too little to remember that voting error.

Now that my youngest is 19 months old, I want her to get in on the political action. The first time I wore this Obama shirt I pointed to his picture and repeated "Obama" over and over. She finally started to say "Omama." That was several days ago. You can imagine my pleasure when she saw me in this Obama shirt today, pointed and declared "Omama!" Then while driving in the car and listening to a report about Obama on NPR, I heard her echo "Omama" from her carseat behind me. As far as I'm concerned, you're never too young to recognize a winner. Too bad she is too young to vote.

Sugar situation: yesterday I ate one chocolate pecan turtle. It seemed kind of lonely in my stomach and I desperately wanted to consume another so the pair of turtles wouldn't be lonely down there. But I resisted.

4:20

2008-10-14T19:48:00.000-04:00

It's a good time for watching Oprah, or thinking about what I should start fixing for dinner, or walking my eldest home from preschool, or straightening up the mayhem around me. It's also supposedly a good time to get high. That's not what I do at 4:20, though. It's not like I'm a character from Weeds or something.

My favorite activity at 4:20 am is sleeping. Sadly though this morning my oldest woke me up at 4:20 because she'd had a bad dream. By the time I got her settled back in her bed and sleeping again, I was wide awake. Of course. The good news is I got my workout in before my kids woke up.

Bert is still out of town so he's not around to take a turn with these early morning wake up calls. I get particularly annoyed when there's no one but me to deal with this day after day. It just doesn't seem fair that I'm the only one whose sleep has to suffer.

Well it turns out I don't have a right to complain about this particular injustice. Not today anyway. Guess who received a phone call at 5:30am from our 18 month-old? Looks like she was playing with my cell and managed to speed dial him. Even from thousands of miles away she succeeded in waking him up earlier than he wanted.

I can't decide if I feel sorry for him (I know I'd be looking forward to waking up at a decent hour if I were staying in a hotel room all by myself) or if secretly I'm a little bit happy that I wasn't the only one whose sleep they managed to sabotage this morning. Does that make me a bad person? Immature, yes. But bad?

And now for the sugar situation: I am proud to say I only ate one chocolate pecan turtle yesterday. It was the biggest one in the box, but still it was only one.

Point of Clarification

2008-10-13T20:23:00.000-04:00

I was on the phone with Mrs. F. today when she asked me to define "one treat." So here I go breaking it down Mary Poppins-style. One treat, for the purposes of this blog, means one serving. For example, one piece of candy (not one giant bag of candy), OR one piece of pie (not one pie), OR one cookie (not one batch of cookies), OR one bowl of ice cream (not one pint of Ben and Jerry's), etc. And don't think I couldn't eat those examples in parentheses. I can't even count the number of times I've downed an entire pint of Ben and Jerry's. And I'm not talking about the low-fat varieties, either.

So, how'd I do? Well, the day's not over yet. I'll post about it tomorrow so check back then.

Things did not go well today at the Poppins household when I tried to give one piece of candy to my older daughter without the younger one noticing. Moments after my 18 month-old detected that she had been left out of the candy distribution she looked like this:

Moments later when I caved she looked like this:

Hers wasn't the only happy post-sugar face:I spared you from having to look at my picture. It was a hat day today.

Just Say No (to the 3rd, 4th, 5th, etc.)

2008-10-12T19:14:00.000-04:00

A spoonful of sugar may help the medicine go down. But there's no need to consume it by the cupful (or, if we're being really honest, bowlful). I do have a massive sweet tooth and I should be better about controling it. Historically, this is not a great time of year for me when it comes to self-control on the sweets front. You may recall that Bert and I have birthdays at the end of September, Halloween and all of its trick-or-treating (in my experience all treats, no tricks) follows suit, then we're on to Thanksgiving with those apple pies (I'm such a sucker for apple pie), and finally Christmas which is one huge dessert-fest. I love it all. Too much. That is the crux of my problem.

So without further ado, I'm revealing vice no. 3: consuming a spoonful of sugar x10. Here's what's going to happen from now on. I'm not denying myself sweets, per se. I'm just limiting my intake to one treat per day. "That's easy," you might think. "Not even a sacrifice at all." And you might be right if you were talking to anyone but me. To put this in perspective you should know that I ate a half-dozen sugar cookies yesterday. Not the little ones. With frosting. True story. So, yeah, I need the motivating power of this blog to help me have more self-control with this issue.

For me this challenge is about self-control and being healthier, not weight management. I don't think I can really continue to justify eating 6 giant sugar cookies in one day simply because I wear a size 4/6. That's not a healthy habit at any size and I need to set a better example for my daughters. I've got 2 girls with very different body types and I need to be more careful about how I frame the eating and exercising discussions that go on in our household. I'm trying to eliminate words like "calories" and instead talk about eating foods that are good for our bodies. Similarly, my workouts shouldn't be done simply to burn calories, but to instead to make my heart stronger. I'm a concerned mom and I limit the number of sweets my girls get. It's about time I start doing the same for myself.

Taste Test

2008-10-11T21:16:00.000-04:00

I made some killer homemade macaroni and cheese on Thursday and served the left-overs for dinner tonight. Witness my 4 year-old enjoying her macaroni and cheese:
For the record, in the Poppins household, homemade doesn't mean heating up a Kraft product. Here's the backstory. Homemade macaroni and cheese is usually a crowd pleaser and I wasn't in the mood for any arguments or whining. I had to take the girls in to get their flu shots earlier today and so neither one was feeling their best. When my older daughter complained that she didn't "like the taste of the cheese," I normally would have said "tough," or some other equally compassionate motherly words of wisdom. Instead I caved and rustled up some Easy Mac (which I have never made before and although it was easy, I can't believe I fed it to my child. Partly because right on the directions it says: "Note: you will see loose white powder in Pasta. This is necessary for proper cooking." I don't know what appalls me more: the fact that they capitalized "Pasta" for no apparent reason, or the fact that it contains an ambiguous white powder that acts as a cooking catalyst. What exactly could that substance be and who exactly is editing their directions?).

When talking to Bert on the phone tonight, our 4 year old said she liked the new macaroni and cheese better because it's "thinner, shorter, and straighter." Can't argue with that. The homemade macaroni and cheese that she passed up is indeed thicker, longer, and curvier:
It also tastes better. Both my 18 month-old and I cleaned our plates. Although maybe that's not saying a whole lot since my 18 month-old is content to eat dry macaroni straight from the box.

The Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by Kraft. When you consume their Easy Mac you don't dirty many dishes):
2:00pm. To quote my daughter, "It's working out better as we're moving along." True.

What a Difference a Day Makes

2008-10-10T20:57:00.000-04:00

The proverbial you-know-what hit the fan at the Poppins household today. Sadly, the dishwasher was not spared. Check out today's Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by the hope that tomorrow will be a better day):
1:55pm. I didn't even bother trying to clean it up for 5 minutes before taking the picture. This casualty was way beyond the point where a 5 minute pick-me-up would actually help. The day was a bit out of control on many fronts. I'll spare you all the details but will give you a few of the highlights (or rather, low points as it were):
1. Bert left this morning for a week-long trip (not for fun mind you, although being anywhere for a week by myself sounds like more fun than dealing with what I've got going on right now). It feels like there's no relief in sight.
2. My 18 month-old fell asleep in the car on the way home from work this morning. I let my 4 year-old out of the car and told her to be quiet since the baby was sleeping. Upon reaching our door with my sleeping child in arms, my older daughter let out a loud yell for no apparent reason, and thereby awakened her sister from her 5 minute-long nap.
3. While grocery shopping this afternoon, my fussy 18 month-old (I can't imagine why she'd be fussy at this point) insisted on holding onto the box of pasta. Looking to minimize tantrums, I relented. Besides, I reasoned the box wasn't breakable. Well a few minutes into our shopping excursion I noticed she'd managed to open the box of pasta. Not wanting to be the cause of an aisle cleanup, I took it from her and placed it in the basket at which point she screamed in protest. Lo and behold when she opened her mouth I found about a dozen pieces of dried macaroni shoved into her mouth. One finger sweep and one gag reflex later and her mouth was choking hazard-free. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson from the bead experience.
The girls are now in bed, the dishwasher is running, and I am going to sit and watch The Great Debaters. It's supposed to be a feel-good movie where the underdogs overcome great obstacles and get a chance to shine. Sounds exactly like the kind of inspiration this underdog needs today (it also doesn't hurt that it features Denzel Washington. A little Denzel never fails to make everything seem a bit better).

It's All About the Benjamins

2008-10-09T18:19:00.000-04:00

Here's a fun Mary Poppins fact for you: I work part-time as a teacher. OK, so that fact isn't as "fun" as say the fact that I can do the best disco back-step you've ever seen (several witnesses attest to this fact by the way. It's indisputable). I mostly teach dance classes for preschool-aged children (one look at my back-stepping ability and I was hired). It's a pretty sweet gig since I can take my kids with me and we all enjoy dancing around together.
Yesterday afternoon I received a call from my desperate boss who was looking for a last minute sub for an art class that started in one hour. Did I mention that I teach dance? Well, I was her last resort and let's face it, in this economic climate who couldn't use the extra cash? I said yes and schlepped my kids off to the art studio for what I assumed would be a fun artistic adventure. Adventure? Yes. Artistic? Mostly. Fun? Try dangerous.
I surprised myself by coming up with a pretty clever art project that involved ribbons, plastic tubing, and beads. Sounds pedestrian I know, but it was quite the hit with the 7 and 8 year-old girls. Here's what I didn't realize. When teaching a last-minute art class with your kids in tow, coming up with an art project is only half of the battle. The other half is figuring out what to do with your toddler in an art studio. I'm used to teaching in a dance studio which is basically a large empty room with a mirrored wall. Dangerous objects usually don't find their way into the dance room. The art studio is a different matter entirely. It's a paradise for toddlers with a penchant for mischief.
Twice while helping a student I was interrupted by another, more observant, student giving me updates about my 18 month-old. "Your baby's got the scissors" was the first alarm that sounded only 10 minutes into the class. I jerked my head up, not to see her sitting calmly near a pair of scissors as I had hoped, but instead to see my child running, scissors in hand, maniacal grin plastered on her face. A game of chase ensued involving several of the students, my 4 year-old and myself in hot pursuit of the scissor-toting offender. Fortunately the scissors were retrieved before any major harm befell anyone.
Feeling like a pretty terrific mom at this point, I gathered up all of the scissors and placed them out of her reach. And things went really smoothly from then on. Until another 10 minutes had passed. I was careful to keep closer tabs on my 18 month-old. She was sitting at my feet when one of the other students announced "Your baby's eating the beads." Really? The child who stopped mouthing objects months ago? Indeed she was. Not just one or two. But a fistful, apparently. Her cheeks were enlarged and lumpy and I could hear the beads rattling around in her mouth. Two finger sweeps and several gag reflexes later, she was bead-free. I, however, was a bit unnerved at this point and am still unsure how I was able to finish the class with my sanity and my child's health and well-being intact.
With the Dow plunging to 8,5something today leaving me (and most Americans) in need of some more Benjamins, I have to take these subbing opportunities as they come. Next time my boss calls, desperate for an art sub, I'll answer "sure" and then announce at the beginning of class: "Welcome to art, kids. Today we'll be trying something new. Now if you'll just follow me down the hall into the dance room I'll teach you how to back-step like a pro."

Today's Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by attentive mothers everywhere--please tell me I'm not the only one):2:36pm. What's up with the sewing machine? You mean you don't have a sewing machine on your dishwasher? Well, get with the times, folks. It's what everyone's doing these days. Seriously, I have no space in my house. Usually the sewing machine is in storage but I had to mend a parachute yesterday (again, for work), and I have a couple more items to mend today so I needed to keep the sewing machine handy in the interim. And what place is more handy than the top of a dishwasher? It just screams: "Put your Singer on me, baby!"

It's All About the Sink

2008-10-08T20:38:00.000-04:00

Witness the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by sugar cookies. Bert made them with the kids this evening. Now I have something to go with that frosting).
Time: 2:09pm

Admittedly, it looks suspiciously similar to yesterday's report. BUT, if you'll scroll down to yesterday's post--no don't scroll, use that sweet tip I taught you by pressing on the Space bar, that's the one--I swear to you that you'll notice this is indeed a different picture. If you look closely, you'll see there are dirty lunch dishes stacked in the sink above (yesterday the sink was empty). Before passing judgment, know that the dishwasher pictured above was in the midst of the drying cycle and the dishes in the sink were dirtied during lunch while the dishwasher was running. And really, where else can you place dirty dishes when your dishwasher is in the middle of a cleaning cycle? And now that a picture has been posted and an explanation has been given, those sugar cookies are calling my name. I'm off to consume one or two.

OK Computer

2008-10-07T20:03:00.000-04:00

Hi. My name is Mary, and I'm a technophobe.

Hi Mary.

It's been 3 weeks since I last resisted the urge to try some new technology. I've been blogging for a few weeks now and I've learned a smattering of new, useful, tech savvy skills:
a. I created a blog by myself.
b. I discovered how to turn off the flash and I mastered the self-timer on my digital camera.
c. I uploaded photos from my digital camera onto my computer multiple times.
d. I found the location of those photos on my computer and then posted them on my blog.
e. I even managed to post on my blog a video clip from another website.
As you can see, I've been acquiring a whole new skill set. Maybe Google or Microsoft of Apple will want to hire me. With cutting-edge skills like these, who wouldn't want me?

The way I approach technology, you'd think I was raised in the 70's when the Atari was a big deal. The truth is I grew up playing Frogger on one of the original 1983 Macintosh home computers. You know, the ones that look like an upright shoebox with a screen on the top half and a slot for the disk on the lower half.
They're pretty much the same as the MacBook Air, only cooler, sleeker, and a bit more portable.

I've always been surrounded by home computers, I've just never really taken to them, despite having to use them to type countless papers throughout high school, college, and graduate school. Make no mistake about it, I can type like nobody's business--just don't ask me to create a power point presentation.

In the spirit of improvement, I read an article in the New York Times today and decided to expand my knowledge even further. Who knew that double clicking on a word highlights it? True. Try it. Now. Neat, huh? You can also hit the Space bar and the Web page will scroll down. Did you do it and find yourself reading one of my posts from earlier this week? Did you hold down the Shift key while hitting the Space bar again to scroll back up? Well, you can. It works! With tips like these, I might actually get excited about computers and refuse to be a technophobe any longer. Technophobes, read on!

Do you see that? I just created a permalink to the article on my blog. A week ago, I didn't even know what a permalink was!

And for further evidence of my mastery of technology, behold the photo (taken with my digital camera) of the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report (brought to you by homemade frosting. It's on my mind lately since I ate a rather large helping of it earlier today when I found a container of it in the back of the fridge. What can I say? I'm a sucker for homemade frosting.):

Photo taken at approximately 3:00pm (later than usual) because I was working out on the elliptical at 2:00pm when the photo should have been taken. This is an authentic picture, folks. No photoshopping. Please, like I could figure out how to use Photoshop.

Introducing the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report

2008-10-06T18:33:00.000-04:00

For those of you who have been with me from the beginning, you may recall that I totally kicked butt with overcoming vice no. 1. I know, I know, it sounds very arrogant. But the fact of the matter is I totally suck at trying to overcome vice no. 2. So, I am tooting my own horn here for a moment, rejoicing in past accomplishments, before I have to face the present and talk about how I failed my current challenge.
TOOT! TOOT! (That's the sound of me tooting my own horn.)
Enough of that. I had a much better feeling at the end of week 1 when I was focusing on working out. I set a clear goal for working out and accomplished it. I feel like I set a clear goal this time too, but as I stated last week, being in control of the dirty dishes requires constant attention. I don't just do it once for the day and then check it off of my "to do" list. It's hard to stay on top of. Furthermore, it's been hard for me to chart my progress with this issue on the blog. I can't simply write "yes" or "no," like I've done with working out.
I think we can all agree that I work well when I have to be accountable to someone for something. This is where you come in. You are my someone. When I know that you're checking in, I want to deliver as opposed to disappoint. So, I'm instigating something new here at bMP. Meet the Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report.
Collective Blog Readers: "What are you all about, Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "Every day at 2:00(ish)pm, MP will take a picture of the dishwasher/sink area as is. NO CHEATING! Then she will post said picture on the blog that day so that you can see the progress (or lack thereof) that she's making."
Collective Blog Readers: "How could MP cheat?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "You've got to keep your eye on her. She can be a tricky one. She could, for example, position the camera at an angle that hides any and all flaws. She could take the photo at an earlier or later time of the day when things are more pristine. She could use the same photo day after day so that she projects the image of keeping order when in reality you can hardly see her dishwasher through all of the clutter. She could even move all of the clutter to the kitchen table, beyond the view of the camera lens. She's never done that before, but she could."
Collective Blog Readers: "Let's assume she'll be honest. Why 2:00pm?"
Afternoon (Dish) Traffic Report: "Because MP's little one needs to sleep every afternoon and she's usually home at that time for her nap."
Collective Blog Readers: "But Mary Poppins, we don't really care to see your dishwasher/sink area every day."

What can I say? Neither do I, but there it is, staring me in the face, day after day. Note: I won't be posting solely about the dishwasher every day, but the pic will appear regardless of the post topic. If I'm going to make any progress at all I need some motivation. In this situation, I think it will be quite motivating to know that I have to visually display the dish traffic every day. It will force me to stay on top of things. So, if you're really averse to seeing this daily then here's a spoiler alert: dishwasher picture immediately to follow (you may want to avert your eyes).

Behold, my dishwasher today at 2:03pm. I can sense that you're a bit perplexed. The dishwasher is not in its usual location. I may have mentioned that here at the Poppins household we're a bit old-school. That, my friends, is an old-school dishwasher. One that hooks up to your sink when it's running. Your grandma probably had one. I know that my grandma who was born in 1905 had one. And in 2008, I'm proud to say that I have one. So for those of you who still don't understand, allow me to translate. At 2:03pm, the dishes were all in the dishwasher in the process of being cleaned. I did it. TOOT! TOOT!

I'm Famous!

2008-10-05T19:42:00.001-04:00

No wonder I'm so tired. I'll post more tomorrow.

The Smart-ass Redemption

2008-10-04T19:33:00.000-04:00

I shamelessly stole the title for this post from the movie I'm sure you've all seen by now. If not then I guess you haven't channel-surfed to TBS at any point in the last decade or so.

Anyway, the dish situation is under control today thanks largely to Bert (who made a bit of a smart-ass comment yesterday as you may recall). As an added bonus, he did 3 loads of laundry. Bert has indeed redeemed himself. Or maybe he just proved his point entirely. Maybe he is the only one who knows how to clean around here. Looks like I'm in need of a new title for this post.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

2008-10-03T19:34:00.000-04:00

My girls love shoes. So do I (although not in an extreme Imelda Marcos kind of way). "Shoe," pronounced "hoo," was one of my younger daughter's first words. Maybe there's some shoe-loving gene that always manifests itself with XX. Since they are so drawn to footwear, my girls play with the shoes constantly. Not just their shoes. All shoes in the household. At any given hour of any given day you can find shoes strewn across my floor like old-fashioned bear traps, waiting to trip up and ensnare a less than cautious passer-by.
5:00pm today found all of the shoes on a heap in front of my 4 year-old's toy kitchen. Was she cooking up some sort of shoe delicacy? Opening up a pretend Japanese restaurant and requiring all patrons to leave their shoes at the door? Accepting footwear as a valid form or currency for her services? No idea. Upon discovering said heap, I told her she must put them away because it was time for dinner. Yes. You read that right. We eat dinner at 5:00pm. Like old people in a retirement community. Moving on...
As we sat down to dinner I noticed the shoe pile had vanished. I had wrongfully assumed they were put back on the shelf in our front entryway. Instead, I found this:
Notice the empty shelf right next to the shoe pile.
(Brief interjection: Bert is wonderful, incredibly supportive, and at times a bit of a smart-ass). Here's a transcript of the lecture Bert gave our 4 year-old following the discovery of the second shoe pile.
Bert: You can't just move the pile from one place to another and call that cleaning up.
(Bert pauses, then delivers a pointed glance in my direction.)
Bert: I'm telling you this because you might not learn it somewhere else.

Mary Poppins: Like from her mother?

Thanks for the not so subtle hint, Bert. I got it.

Comment for the maintenance department at my apartment complex

2008-10-02T17:04:00.000-04:00

Sometimes Mary Poppins isn't the best woman for the job

2008-10-01T20:02:00.000-04:00

At 1:33pm today this was the state of my problem area:

As you can see, the clean dishes are of course in the dishwasher (and have been sitting there all morning long) and not in the cupboards, where they belong. There's also a glass (and by glass, I mean plastic cup) on top of the dishwasher. Tsk, tsk, tsk. At least it's not a pile of junk mail, right? Does it count as an improvement if the dirty dishes are neatly stacked outside of the sink? I thought not.
This is trickier than I envisioned. To quote an ABBA classic, I don't think I'm "finally facing my Waterloo" with this challenge. I will overcome vice no. 2, it's just not as simple as I thought it would be. With working out, I do it once for the day and then it's over and I can feel wonderful that I accomplished something. I like that kind of gratification. I'm noticing that this whole dish business requires me to be consistently vigilant. Apparently I'm not so great at giving something my constant attention. This is why I wouldn't make a good gardener, or ER doc, or babysitter. Seriously folks. Next time you might want to think about calling Nanny McPhee before you call Mary Poppins.

Unanticipated Consequences

2008-09-30T12:48:00.000-04:00

Fact: Mary Poppins has a master's degree in political science.
Fact: In political science we talk a fair amount about unanticipated consequences of policies and programs.
Fact: The following picture perfectly illustrates one unanticipated consequence of keeping the top of my dishwasher void of clutter.
Fact: The giant candy bowl has now been moved to a more secure location.

Extreme Makeover: Dishwasher Edition

2008-09-29T18:50:00.000-04:00

After some hard labor this afternoon, here's what I managed to accomplish:
I'm no Ty Pennington, mind you, so the plant, flowers, candle, napkin holder, and candy bowl (yes, it's true, our candy bowl is larger than life--that's how my uber-sweet tooth and I roll) are there for practical, not aesthetic, purposes. The theory is that if I have specific items placed strategically on the dishwasher, there won't be any space left where I can dump my random _________. (noun--fill in the blank with your favorite word for that which formerly occupied the top of the dishwasher and plagues other areas of my house as well.)

In the interest of full disclosure, I'll show you the same view after taking a few steps back:
Upon further review, I decided that it doesn't really count if I just move all of the _________ (again, fill in the blank--don't forget it's a noun) from one surface to another. Rest assured, by dinnertime I corrected the mistake. The Poppins's table and dishwasher are now officially clear of any and all _______. (noun)

If the kitchen is the heart of the home...

2008-09-28T18:36:00.000-04:00

Then we're in need of a major quadruple bypass. Stat.
If you were to come to my house right now (you'd love that opportunity wouldn't you?), you might see something like this:Who am I kidding? That is exactly what you'd see. Pictures don't lie (unless we're talking about those pictures they love to show on the front page of the Enquirer. You know, the ones that feature the 800 lb baby, the boy who is half bat, or Britney Spears actually buckling her child into his carseat. Come on, you know that didn't happen).
Before you judge me too harshly, let me just say that my family lives in a place that is only 800 square feet. Break that down Mary Poppins-style and you'll realize that's only 200 square feet per person. Factor in that Bert is 7 feet tall and 3 feet wide and you'll discover that his person takes up a majority of the space, leaving little room for anything (or anyone) else. OK, so Bert's not gigantic. I'm just fishing for ways to justify my untidiness. To recap, we have a lot of stuff squeezed into a small space. Unfortunately that alone cannot explain the chaos captured in these pictures.
The problem in this kitchen area is twofold:
1. I have a hard time staying on top of the dishes. I often don't unload the dishwasher right away which leads to a pileup of dishes in the sink and on the counter. Before I know it, dirty dishes have overtaken the kitchen. Like so:
2. The top of the dishwasher is a separate issue, but since it's in the same area, I'm going to tackle it too. When I have something in hand that doesn't have a home, I place it on the dishwasher. This could be anything, really--preschool papers, junk mail, important mail, bins of various sizes, I'm sure if we looked hard enough we might even be able to find a government rebate check lurking under there somewhere. Do you see one? Seriously, I could use some extra cash right now. I'd be most appreciative if you uncovered one for me.
So for my next challenge, I'm going to (let's be very clear about this):
1. empty the dishwasher as soon as the dishes are clean. That will allow me to...
2. place all dirty dishes directly in the dishwasher, so that i can...
3. keep the sink clean and clear, and while I'm at it...
4. keep the top of the dishwasher clutter-free.

FYI, I'm not abandoning the workout plan. I'll keep posting brief updates on that vice so that you can continue to cheer me on. Because where would I be without you readers? Evidently I'd be sitting on my flat butt buried under a mountain of clutter and dirty dishes, searching for that rebate check.

Mary Poppins Succumbs to Temptation

2008-09-27T16:03:00.000-04:00

Doesn't that sound dramatic? Continue reading and witness the drama unfold.

They say that "idle hands are the devil's workshop." And by "they" I mean religious people over 70 and my friend MMG. Although MMG is far from 70, she is quite religious (I kid you not, she attends mass every weekday) and she behaves just like a little old lady. It's what makes me love her so. I say this not in jest, but as fact. She quilts, finds old men irresistible, will be voting for McCain in the election, wears button-up cardigans that match her grandmother's, considers attending high tea the epitome of an afternoon out, refuses to drive anywhere, instead preferring to take the bus or to wait for her husband to chauffeur her around, and constantly utters innocent remarks which come across as dirty double entendres to those of us who are less-innocent. It's all part of her charm. She is charming. Adorably so. And although I've never heard her actually say "idle hands are the devil's workshop" it would not surprise me to hear those words cross her lips (right after holding up her half-eaten lobster--tail and claws devoured, body intact--at a company picnic and offering, "Does anyone want my body?" True story).
The devil's workshop revisited: In my case while working out it's an idle mouth I fear, not idle hands. I have been talking on my cell phone to others while working out (see Wednesday's post "a spoonful of sugar" for further explanation), but yesterday I encountered a few problems: 1. I needed to workout before 9:00pm in order to watch the presidential debate (I'm a huge nerd, I know); 2. We don't get free minutes until 9:00pm (we have the world's cheapest plan which means the world's fewest minutes per month); and 3. I therefore could not use my cell phone as a distraction while working out. Let me tell you, 40 minutes on the elliptical seems awfully long when you've got nothing to do. Did I mention that we don't have cable TV and even if we did we only own one TV and it's not in the basement which houses the elliptical machine? Did I also mention that instead of a book or magazine stand on my elliptical there's a fan? And I can assure you that it's not easy to hold reading material in your hands while using the elliptical. Trust me, I tried it, and I nearly fell off of the machine. The cell phone is the perfect distraction, folks and it was not an option for me last night.
So, as I'm on the elliptical machine last night with nothing to do, I notice that there is a box of Trader Joe's chocolate peanut butter cups in my eye line. I tried to ignore them, but there was nothing to do but stare at them. I foolishly hadn't eaten dinner before my workout so my stomach was gnawing at me and the peanut butter cups were looking better and better. The rest is history. The good news is that after retrieving a fist-full of the peanut butter cups (did I mention they were miniature-sized? That makes them practically calorie-free), I did climb back onto the elliptical to eat my goods. It reminded me of the times I would drink a glass a milk while nursing my infant daughter. Nothing like maintaining a constant equilibrium of input and output. Calories in the former scenario, milk in the latter.

And now, for the workout wrap-up: Fri? and Sat? Done! and Done! That makes a grand total of 4, folks. Four 40-minute workouts, as promised. Mission accomplished. That means it's time to turn my attention one of my many other vices. Tune in tomorrow when I break it down Mary Poppins-style and declare war on vice no. 2.

Finally, if you're not familiar with "Sometimes Life Is Funny," the Nie Nie fundraiser blog book, then you should go here (navel gazing at its finest: The Blog Book) and read all about it. You have until Tuesday if you want to submit something. You have until I give you further information to actually purchase the book filled with witty observations, commentary, and anecdotes, no doubt.

Make it happen, Cap'n!

2008-09-26T14:41:00.000-04:00

Something's been brewing for months--months I tell you--and tonight is the night that it's finally going to happen. I'm titillated beyond belief and the anticipation is just about killing me. Earlier this week there were signs that the plans might fall through for tonight and I was faced with bitter disappointment. Crushed like a girl who didn't get a date for the prom (and I know from firsthand experience what that feels like). For a few days there, I had resigned myself to just make other plans for Friday night and hope that things would work out better in the future. It's been one emotional roller coaster ride, I tell you. The ups and downs were almost too much to take. Thankfully this afternoon while I obsessively checked the Internet scanning for news about tonight's function I came across this ray of sunshine:
McCain Decides to Participate in Debate
The source? Totally legitimate. The New York Times. The presidential debate is on.
Do you hear that? It's the sound of me letting out an audible sigh of relief. You know where I'll be from 9:00-10:30 tonight. Sitting on either my hand-me-down couch or my broken Ikea Poang chair staring at the fuzzy TV screen (we like to kick it old school here at the Poppins household and use an antenna) only getting up to use the bathroom (this is inevitable since I've given birth to two children). I might even make some popcorn to honor the special occasion. This is no ordinary Friday night. In retrospect, my excitement over things like the presidential debate probably explains the prom date situation.

What does this have to do with my Friday workout? I usually workout after 9:00pm when I get free cell phone minutes (if that last sentence doesn't make any sense to you, read my post from Wednesday titled "a spoonful of sugar"). Without my cell phone, it may not be an entertaining 40 minutes on the elliptical, but I'm going to have to (in the words of Darryl from The Office) "Make it happen, Cap'n." It's a change I'm willing to make today in order to watch the presidential debates. A change I can believe in.

Mrs. Furious Recommends (or, one of these things is not like the others)

2008-09-25T17:16:00.000-04:00

My friend Mrs. Furious has great taste. So a few months back when she recommended some of her favorite books to me, I wrote them down with the intent of checking them out later. I then promptly lost the list and have been occupying my time with other books (including The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls--I couldn't pry my eyes away from it). Imagine my astonishment when the list magically reappeared a couple of weeks ago. It's amazing what you find when you go through the stacks of junk cluttering your house (like the credit card that I thought was stolen at the gas station last week. Turns out, there was no thief involved at all. Just a scatterbrained Mary Poppins who didn't put it back where it belongs. I did have the good sense to cancel the credit card upon discovering that it was "stolen," and so now I get to enjoy a few more credit card-less days until the replacement arrives. Sorry, Bert).
Back to the issue at hand: the list of books recommended to me by one, Mrs. Furious. List in hand, I submitted an online request for them from our local library and yesterday the books arrived. Here are the first three in no particular order:

Fall On Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald, a #1 international bestseller and an Oprah's Book Club pick.

Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner, a modern classic touted as "one of the greatest and most cherished American novels of the twentieth century."

The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx, National Book Award winner, national bestseller, and winner of the Pulitzer Prize.

I was having a hard time choosing which one I would start with since they all seemed to receive such wonderful accolades. But then I looked at this beauty and knew that would be the first book to fill the coveted spot on my nightstand.

I'm not sure what speaks to me more--the temptress's seductive cleavage, her unique jewelry choice, or her "come hither" stare. From the looks of it, this guy can't stay away from her. And I'm not sure I can either. I'm intrigued, to say the least. It may not have won a Pulitzer Prize or even a place in Oprah's Book Club, but neither did the Amish romance novels Mrs. F is so fond of.

Update:
The Heart is A Lonely Hunter seemed like such a diversion from her usual taste, so I had to do a bit of investigative reporting. I spoke to Mrs. F on the phone today before they left for their vacation. The conversation went something like this:
MP: "Who wrote The Heart is a Lonely Hunter?
Mrs. F: "Carson somebody" (the sound of typing, some obvious googling, or other such fact checking going on in the background) "Carson McCullers."
MP: "I was afraid of that. I checked out the wrong book from the library. This version looks like some cheezy romance novel. You should see the cover."

Well now thanks to modern technology, Mrs. F, you can.

Speaking of books, many of you out there have heard about Nie Nie, a blogger who was seriously injured in a private plane crash last month with her husband. Mrs. F contacted me about it, and I've been sucked into the story ever since and you'd better believe I went back and read every single entry she posted. She's unlike anyone I've ever met. You can read her blog here, read her sister's updates here, and get more information about how to help Nie Nie and her family here. A fellow blogger is publishing "Sometimes Life is Funny," a book of essays to raise money for Nie Nie's recovery fund. In the spirit of wanting to help, I've submitted an entry. Whether or not it's accepted remains to be seen, but I'll keep you posted. Interested in submitting one of your own? The deadline is September 30th. Click below to read all about the contest.
navel gazing at its finest: Blog Book Update and Call for Cover Art

Finally, the workout update: As of Thursday--2 down, 2 to go.

A spoonful of sugar

2008-09-24T20:30:00.000-04:00

And you know the rest. The medicine in this scenario is working out (I don't enjoy it--yet), and the sugar? My cell phone. I don't have tivo, or even TV for that matter. Since I can't workout while watching 30 Rock and The Office (both shows receive 2 thumbs up from Mary Poppins), I entertain myself by chatting with friends and family (never strangers) while working out. There are some obvious benefits to this, the multi-tasking, killing-two-birds-with-one-stone aspect being chief among them. It makes the time pass quickly and I get to feel like I'm actually being productive while on the phone. Normally I lie on the couch, sometimes I mix it up and lie on my bed. Almost never am I actually doing dishes or picking up toys or scrubbing the toilet or something like that. So if you're one of those people who is grossed out by the thought of someone cleaning the toilet while talking to you, rest assured--I've never put you through that. I may have used the toilet while talking to you, but I always turn on the water first so you think I'm doing the dishes or washing my hands--not urinating.
So you may ask, "what's there not to love when it comes to working out/catching up on phone calls" system? Unfortunately my research has uncovered one major drawback to this method: there's a lot of heavy breathing on my end of the phone and in some circles, I could be mistaken for "Monique" or "Candy" from some 900 number. I suggest that while elevating your heartrate through cardio, you use this time to call siblings or old friends (and by old I mean "long time friends," not the elderly. Those who are hard of hearing might not be your best conversation partner in this situation). This would not be a good time to conduct business phone calls, contact an ecclesiastical leader from your church, reconnect with your ex-boyfriend, or set up a play date with the single dad who you sometimes meet at the park with the kids. In short, choosing an understanding audience (one who won't misread your tone) is key.
And the best part? When I'm panting, the person on the other end of the phone knows with assurity that my feet are firmly planted on the elliptical pedals and not occupying the spot in front of the toilet.
And now for the workout recap:
Monday (Bert's bday)--no
Tues (my bday)--no
Wed--a resounding YES
So, we got off to a bad start. What can I say? I was too busy celebrating (i.e. eating). But the goal was 4 times this week. Admittedly that puts a lot of pressure on Thurs, Fri, and Sat, but I'm confident the latter part of the week has got my back on this one and we'll hit it out of the park.