Misc. Updates

Yesterday The Princess and I baked together for the first time.  It was fun.  She was into pouring all the ingredients into the bowl and mixing them together, but for me, it meant so much more to do this mother-daughter thing.  Nothing special, just brownies, which from what I have heard, turned out to be delicious.

The Princess Making Brownies

I haven’t talked about the diet for a while, but to give a quick update, I am doing great with the Jenny Craig.  I am more than half-way to my goal weight, having lost more than 18 pounds since I officially began the diet.  More importantly, I went back to the doctor yesterday, and all of my numbers have come down.  Since July, when I last saw him, I have lost 21 pounds.  My cholesterol has gone from 252 to 175, and my trigycerides, which were embarrassing — over 700 — are now 122.  It’s great to look in the mirror and feel better, but I have to tell you, when they gaveEdison in his play me the numbers yesterday, I teared up.  The numbers are the important thing.  Overall, I feel pretty great.

Edison was in a play this week, written by his music teacher and performed by everyone in the third grade at his school. He spent weeks singing and dancing around the house, and even though there were times when I really wished he would stop, there will be times in the future, when other pursuits have garnered his attention, when I will miss that singing.

I am finishing up a book I had to read for the book club called The 19th Wife by David Ebershoff.  It’s one of those books I can’t wait to be done with.  The writing is just okay, nothing overly literary, and at times the narrative is cliche, or just doesn’t feel real, like the author is stretching a limited imagination.  It tells two stories in two separate narratives that the author is trying to somehow relate to one another.

One is a historical fiction about Brigham Young’s 19th wife, who divorces him and sets about on a crusade to end polygamy in the late-19th Century. That part of the book I really like.  It’s fairly well researched and feels authentic.  The other is a modern sort of murder mystery about a 19th wife in a cult-like sect that split of from the Mormons after 1890 who is accused of killing her husband.  Her estranged gay son returns to the small town and proceeds to investigate the case, and I don’t want to ruin it for you, but you know, the mother’s innocent.

But I had some real problems with that part of the book.  First of all, the solving of the murder comes abruptly and totally from left field.  There’s no building of the clues, only a bit of meandering around them.  The explanation of the murder is less than a page, and the motive isn’t fully believable, especially given that the climax is the first we’ve heard of it.  Also, the confession comes after a totally contrived scene where the main character is captured and seems to be threatened, but again, it doesn’t feel as real as the author had been hoping to make it.

My biggest problem was with the main character, who as I mentioned, is gay. Why? Because I guess that would make the story more interesting? The author tells us that the guy spent a little time selling his bod, and on more than one occasion mentions that he was paid by a dude to let him put his “arm in a place where no arm should go.” Ew.  And then, about 2/3 through the book, he meets a guy who falls in love with him and wants him to stay, make a commitment after ONE NIGHT TOGETHER, and the author tries to kind of make a case that it’s hard for Jordan to do that because of how he was raised in the polygamist sect.  He can’t love, you see.  But I felt like — well, he did just meet the guy. Frankly, the love interest comes off more like a creepy stalker than a sincere life partner.  (I pictured him as Kenneth Parcells from 30 Rock, only you know, as a creepy stalker.  If they ever make a movie of this book, Jack McBrayer should totally play the character of Tom.)

 

But I keep turning those pages, because I do want to find out what happened to Ann Eliza Young, Bringham’s 19th wife.  I’m not sure I will find out, and I also worry that we’ll never find out what happened to the son she left behind when she left Utah, though the fact that she misses him is mentioned several times in the course of the story.  I have like ten pages to go.  Then, like Ann Eliza, I will be free (to read something else.)

 

p.s. — just searching on youtube, I found these clips.  Seriously, this is the funniest show on TV:

 

 


It Seems Capitalism is Alive and Well

Don’t you worry.  Obama’s not going to bring socialism to this country.  Here’s your example of how capitalism is alive and kicking (as it turns out, my ass):

Saturday I took the kids to a birthday party at a local indoor playground.  Only Edison was invited, but Manfrengensen was out of town, so I took the other two and paid for them to play.  The girl behind the counter asked what exactly I wanted to pay for, and after a bit of back and forth, we determined that I would be paying for the soft playground as well as the “ball blaster” area, kind of a ball pit on steroids.

So the girl asked how old the kids were, and I told her five and three.  She said I would have to go into the ball blaster area with the three-year-old, so I said fine, and she said, “It’s four dollars for you.”  Seriously?  Like I was dying to go into that germ-infested plexiglass bubble? Like it was going to be some kind of fun for me to be in there with a bunch of pre-pubescent kids hopped up on cake and junk food, shooting foam balls at each other with air-powered canons?  Was she for real?  As it turned out, she was, and I had to pay.  I mean, The Princess was bound to follow her brothers in there, so I shelled out the four bucks.

But then, when I tried to go in there with her, another girl stopped me at the hanging plastic curtains.  “You need to take off your shoes,” she said with about as much enthusiasm as anyone who had to spend eight hours in that kind of environment could be expected to muster. As I began to remove my relatively-new, black suede Mary Janes (and oh, did I mention that it started to rain torrentially while we were at the party?), she said again in her zombie-esque tone, “No, you need to have socks to go in there.” When I told her I didn’t have socks, she said that I could pay $1.50 for them at the front. This time she pointed to the front desk area, lifting her arm slowly and not much unlike the un-dead would.

And I’m sorry, but F- that. This place wasn’t getting another dime out of me, not because I was cheap, but out of just plain principle. I’m all for capitalism. I’m not a Communist, or a Socialist, or any kind of -ist that I am aware of, but come on. I didn’t even want to go in that freak-for-all ball pit! So I ended up just watching The Princess from the other side of the hanging plastic curtains. I even helped out by kicking the balls back into the pit for the staff. Technically, they owed me money.

Clooney wants to have his upcoming birthday there, but I am almost willing to pay double whatever that price would be to have it someplace else. See?  There’s the beauty of capitalism!  Supply me a place that’s fun without being stressful and you can Demand whatever price you want.

Other than that, I guess it was a fun party. The Princess got lost in the commotion a few times, but she was always returned safe and sound, albeit with tears running down her cheeks. And overall, the three of them were really good kids all day. I felt like a good mom, and I have to take that kind of feeling whenever I can.

 

My Son, Future President?

Apparently not.  As part of their unit on the recent election, Edison’s class had to write a paragraph answering the question: Would you want to run for President someday?  Why or Why not?  He wrote:

 No, I wouldn’t like to run for President someday.  It looks like a really hard job.  I would have to travel because I would need to campaign, and I’m not really a traveler! I would have to wait until January 20th for inauguration, and I’m not really that patient! No thanks for President!

 

Listening to Oasis this morning….Today was gonna be the day


It’s On

So, I’ve got the full-on sinus experience going on. I’m multi-sneeze-matic. I’ve got a nose like a pomegranate. I bought some Puffs-Plus today, but I’m trying to figure out what the “Plus” is. I know it’s supposed to be lotion, but it smells like something else. Puffs Plus-Stink. Puffs Plus-the-Overwhelming-Smell-Of-Old-Cardboard. Puffs Plus-I-Actually-Kind-Of-Wish-I-Were-More-Congested-So-I-Wouldn’t-Be-Able-To-Smell-This. It’s gross. They don’t usually have a smell. Maybe it’s a bad batch?

Had to go out early today for The Princess to get her hair cut. So now she no longer looks as if she’s being raised by wolves. It was supposed to be foggy this morning, and then clear up. Lies.

Edison was just playing so sweetly with The Princess.  He was showing her how to do magic tricks with his magic set, praising her for her little imaginary play.  He is so wonderful with little kids.  Many of the mothers in the neighborhood have even commented on it.  He’s the oldest kid in our extended family, and he is always so sweet with his younger cousins, entertaining and performing for them, guiding them gently when necessary.

When I was on the nest with Edison, I had hoped for a boy.  Manfrengensen had questioned why, and I told him that I had always wanted a big brother growing up.  You know, someone to stick up for me, look out for me, pave my way.  He laughed. “That’s because you didn’t have a big brother.”  He knew from experience, that more often than looking out for you, big brothers actually try to get you into trouble.  They lay blame on you, they sit on you.  They grab your hands and force you to punch yourself while teasing, “Why are you punching yourself?  Why are you punching yourself?”  They get a kick out of that kind of thing.  It’s just part of the genetic make-up of being the older sibling.  It’s a natural alignment of the chromosomes.

I tend to think that Edison isn’t really that kind of kid. He came over here to get something, and I praised him for playing so sweetly with her.  “You’re such a great big brother,” I said.

Then she came over and wanted to show him something. “Close your eyes,” she said with the excited anticipation of her plan written in her expression.  And in true big brother fashion, he blinked to tease her.  She groaned exasperatedly and begged him again.  He blinked again, grinning from ear to ear.  That “big brother” Eddie-Haskel thing is hard to keep down.  No matter how sweetly he treats her, the true perks of being the big brother always seem to assert themselves.

 


Intelligent Design

How are you today?

 

The Princess was watching Go, Diego! Go! today, and she told me that she doesn’t like dinosaurs. So, I asked why not. “Because they eat aybody,” she said. Interesting theory of evolution. I also find this interesting because Diego features plenty of other animals, like wild dogs and jaguars who would certainly eat aybody they could sink their carnivorous teeth into if given the chance.  I mean, let’s face it, if Diego were real, he’d, at the very least, be missing a few fingers.

How did Diego get to go back in time to rescue the dinosaurs?  Trust me, you don’t want to know.

She’s been watching a lot of TV this week, which is weird for her, because she’s pretty busy, what with her dollhouse and dolls, the Disney princesses and all. She’s just been really tired, like actually napping, which she hasn’t done in months, plus she’s been rolling around on the floor a lot like Madonna in the Lucky Star video. She’s also had a cough for more than a week, so I finally took her to the doctor today (why did I wait? Well they always say it’s a virus, so I always wait. Why bother if they’re not going to do anything? And I don’t fault them — viruses, what can you do?) and it was pouring rain of course, a lovely outing.  To my surprise, the doctor actually ponied up with the antibiotic prescription.  So, all in all, not a waste of two hours.  (They were really backed up there today. Don’t think we’ve ever waited that long. Lots of sickness going around, I guess.) She’s a little better tonight.

Not to be whiney and all, but I think I’m coming down with something now.

 

 


World History According to Nick Jr.

The “GREATEST EXPLORER OF ALL TIME”, according to the network that brought us Spongebob Squarepants, is (drumroll, please?) Dora the Explorer. (Dora, probably the second highest-grossing marketing commodity under Spongebob for Nick’s parent company, Viacom.)

So, to go over our history lesson, according to Nick (and I can just see a number of this generation’s kids being tested on this in years to come, answering “Dora”) the following explorers are ranked as such:

Christopher Columbus?  A phony.

Marco Polo? A pansy.

Magellan? A pretender.

Robert Peary? A nobody.

Ponce De Leon? A-hole.

But Dora, with all her destinations a mere three stops away (which the Map has to remind her of a dozen times from point A to point D), she’s the greatest explorer of all time.


Luckiest Girl in the World

When Clooney got into the car today, he was beaming.  Neither he nor Edison could wait to tell The Princess the news they had.

Backstory:

If you remember last Friday, The Princess had a little meltdown over a Sleeping Beauty Barbie doll they were offering for raffle at the Book Fair.  So, after chasing her down the hall and retrieving it from her vice-like grip, I gave it back to the cashier, in my usual ploy of pretending to buy it, but actually not.  Instead, I bought five dollars worth of raffle tickets, and dropped the majority of them into the Sleeping Beauty pot.

Well, needless to say, she won the thing. (And they called Clooney’s name over the loud speaker to come claim it, hence his excitement.)  I guess good things come to those who abscond with and then return things and wait.

As I unbuckled her car seat to go into the house, she said, “Oh, Mommy.  I so happy to see Sweeping Beauty again.”

“I’m happy too,” I said.

 


I Get the Bronze

Clooney told me, as I tucked him in tonight, that I am his third favorite person. He didn’t mean it in a bad way, just as a matter of fact, and he said it in his cute little five-year-old voice, “First is Aunt Julie.  Second is Gram, and then you.”

That’s the story of my life: Going for gold.  Coming up bronze.

Today, I got up, got everyone dressed.  Made toast, pancakes, served cereal, packed lunches then loaded everyone into the car to take them to the doctor for their flu shots.  After that I let them have lollipops in the morning, in the car on the way to school, which I never do, but since they’d been so good about getting the shots, I relented.

I dropped the boys off at school, and then I delivered pumpkins filled with treats to a few of their friends in this neighborhood thing we have going on that is kind of like a chain letter.  You get “boo”ed with this plastic pumpkin full of treats, so then you have two days to “boo” two other people.  On Thursday I had gone to get my own flu shot, and then I ran over to the drug and dollar stores to get all the crap to put in these pumpkins. Then Friday, it turned out that one of the people I had planned to “boo” had already been “boo”ed, but I didn’t find this out until I was standing on their front walk with the thing in my hand.  That left me the dilemma of figuring out who else to “boo,” specifically who else might have two girls because I had filled this thing up with candy and girly things like bracelets and hair ties.  I finally remembered someone else, a friend of mine from a few blocks away, but I had only been to her house once, and that was at night, so when I was on her street, I didn’t recognize her door.  I actually had to go home and double check the address, which made me feel like a complete idiot, but I had to unload this pumpkin, and pronto.  Thankfully, The Princess didn’t complain much from her car seat, just sat there watching her mom do all this wacky stuff, moves that I am sure looked like some kind of crazy Chinese firedrill to her.

 Then I had to go back to school to accompany Clooney to the book fair they were having this week.  I do this every year, because a few years ago, Edison came home with an American Girl diary, which  no one there had thought to counsel him against.  He even drew in it before he got it home, so there was nothing I could do.  So now I go to make sure they are buying a) books and no other crap and b) appropriate titles.  Bought Clooney three books, though there was a bit of struggle about what he could and could not have.  (Also, I had The Princess with me, and they were raffling a Sleeping Beauty Barbie doll at this event, which she grabbed off the raffle table and absconded with. And darn, she’s fast. I had to chase her the length of the school to get it back.  Not pretty.)

Went home, made lunch for The Princess and tried to get her to nap to no avail.  Ended up playing with her dollhouse, which I did for longer than I really enjoy doing, but hey — when is it ever about me? Picked the boys up from school, and took them to this playground that we have to drive to because a) they’ve been begging me to take them there for months and b) Manfrengensen came home sick from work, and I figured I would keep them out of the house to keep the house quiet for him.  I even brought after-school snacks and drinks along in a bag.  Edison complained that he was cold because he’d been waiting so long for me to pick him up in the October air.  I told him to pipe down and put his coat on, for Pete’s sake.  What was he doing waiting outside school with no coat on?  He’s eight.  Are we starting with the coat thing already? We went to the park for a while, where I pushed swings, climbed apparatus, spun them on the spinner thing and removed sand from people’s shoes.  As the sun began to set, I brought them home and got everyone fed.

In the course of any day, I peel other people’s apples, mix numerous cups of chocolate milk and cut off everyone’s crusts.  I’m a short-order cook, a maid, a nurse, a chauffeur and a Supreme Court Justice. I do my best to accommodate any and all requests.

Bronze.


That Catholic School Influence

Clooney was just playing with The Princess in her little kitchen, serving her a plastic hot dog roll in a plastic pot.  After a few minutes, I realized he was singing, “This Is the Bread of the Lord.”

Reminded me also of a couple of years ago when I had given Edison a chocolate chip cookie.  He walked away, holding it in front of him.  Then he split it in two with his fingers as if it were a host being consecrated on the altar.  “THIS, is my body,” he proclaimed.

 


A Sincere Pumpkin Patch

I haven’t blogged in a while about my life as a mom, so I thought I would catch up today.

On Saturdays in the fall, our schedule is typically ruled by the ND football game. Manfrengensen is a bit of a fanatic, you could say, so he must be in front of the TV at kickoff, and for the most part, it is best for the rest of us to just vacate the premises.  But this week was an off-week for ND, and it was a beautiful, near-perfect autumn day, so we thought we would go get our pumpkins as a family.

Usually we go to the local pumpkin patch, which is small, but fairly sincere.  We pick our pumpkins, Manfrengensen pulling the wagon up and down the rows of the field, with the children jumping on and off of it.  After we pick our pumpkins, the kids disappear into the corn maze, or run through the little straw bale one they have, running circles through its simple path. Edison just attended a birthday party two weeks ago at that pumpkin patch though (and while we were there, all three of them thought the most fun thing about it was to roll down the big hills that surrounded the parking area) so I thought it might be fun do do something different.

For years, I have been hearing about this farm that’s about a forty-five minute drive away called Linvilla Orchards.  We checked out the website, and it looked like fun.  They have a little park, and Manfrengensen and I figured we could pick our pumpkins, the kids could play a bit, and we could call it a fun little family outing. We loaded them all into the car and drove up there.

The first sign that this was a bigger deal than we had anticipated, was the parking lot. There was a guy there with a red flag, waving us in, usually a sign of a huge event. And an event it was.  It was a lot of fun, but rather than the small pumpkin patch we had expected, it was like a huge fair.  There were so many things that we couldn’t see them all in one day.

You walk onto the grounds, and they have a little band playing.  Behind the stage were carnival-like food stands, selling all kinds of junk, soft pretzels, pizza, hot dogs, fries, caramel apples and more. They had face painting, pony rides, a petting zoo, pick-your-own pumpkins, pick-your-own apples, a craft fair, jarred foods for sale, all kinds of farm-related activities.  And it was teeming with humanity.

One rest room area with two toilets each.

But anyway, we explored a bit and then let the kids ride the ponies.  Edison and Clooney loved it, but The Princess only let the pony take a few steps before she got off of the thing.  She was tired. She had actually fallen asleep on the way there, and she’s never good in the first half-hour after you wake her.  After that, we went on a hayride, which was fun, and then we took the kids to the playground.  And the playground was insane.  You pay a dollar to get in, and they have all these wooden structures in there.  Kids were running everywhere.  They were climbing. They were jumping.  They were sliding and shimmying, and skooting.  Again, it made my head spin.  But the kids had a great time.

What kind of thing is Manfrengensen?  Is that a vegetable?

What kind of thing is Manfrengensen? Is that a vegetable?

After that, we got a snack, and to be honest, between the hayride and the pony ride, the hay bale maze, the park and the food, we’d expended all the cash in our wallets.  Plus, it was such a long walk back to the car (across the street from the farm and down a big hill, all the way to the opposite end of the parking lot) that we didn’t want to lug a huge pumpkin all the way back there.  So we ended up leaving.  A fun day, but no pumpkin.

Manfrengensen is even more obsessed with the election than I am.  It’s awesome. Friday night we went out to dinner, and it was pretty much all we talked about.  Funny, because usually when we go out, and it’s just the two of us, even though we’re so excited to be out without the kids, the kids tend to be the main topic of our conversation. Talking excitedly about something other than the kids takes me back to the salad days.

Then we went to see Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, which was pretty cute and fun. Very well-cast with a thoughtful, sincere script. Not a great movie, but a satisfying excursion.

Today, it’s back to typical Sunday morning. Though rather than watching ESPN, Manfrengensen is obsessed with the Sunday morning pundits and watching CNN. I got to sleep in, and then I made pancakes, though only The Princess ate them.  Not because they were bad pancakes, but because the boys are picky eaters. (Please no advice on that, believe me I have tried everything. Talked to the doctors, tried every tactic, even have snuck nutritious things into the foods they like to no avail. Ultimately it comes down to two things: How can you get kids to eat vegetables who won’t even try pancakes??  The power struggle has run its course.  And also, I think of my brother, who ate nothing but french fries and poptarts for the first four years of his life.  He’s now the most adventurous eater of all the kids in my family.  My kids are healthy and in no way overweight, so I am relaxing for the most part.  It will work itself out as they get older.)

The boys are eating their lunches as I write this post, alternately chewing and talking into a little recorder, the playback of which drives them both into fits of hysterical laughter. Even though, I know that in a few minutes I will have to take that thing away from them, lest its shrill, repetitive sound drive me insane, I do so love being their mom.


Sleeping Baldy

Aurora’s hair came off.