Left-handed typing

If only y'all could read the blog posts that I compose in my head. I "wrote" about Epiphany (they sought, they found, they celebrated, they did the prudent thing), but due to out-of-town guests and a hand injury, I haven't had a chance to type it.

Yes, I cut my hand washing dishes. The amazing thing is that it is the first time that I've done it...
Be back with you once my hand hand heals up or I get the patience to hunt and peck with my left hand.

Ouch

Even without record-setting quarterback Brady Quinn, receiver Jeff Samardzija and many more of its best players next season, Notre Dame will finally end its postseason drought, now the longest in NCAA history.

The Fighting Irish will end the postseason losing streak that dates back to 1994 because next season they'll be playing in some second-tier bowl game in a non-descript place like Shreveport, La., which is where they should have been playing during much of the last two decades.

If you can stand to read more....

Wisdom of the Ages

Tough times never last, but tough people do.
Fortune Cookie

Welcome Nathaniel!

I haven't checked LJ recently, so I am a few days late on congratulating Library Gal and her family on the birth of their son Nathaniel. He has been blogging since birth, and looks to be doing very well.

Good luck with those diapers, Mommy and Daddy!

Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God

Today is the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God (EWTN, Wikipedia, About.com). Even though the obligation was transferred to Sunday this year, we had planned to attend daily mass as a family anyway. A nasty little ice storm, however, deterred us from leaving the house. We figured that God would prefer to have us alive at home than sliding off the road on the way to church.

Instead, all five of us -- both agents, me, Mr. warillever, and Janice the cat -- tried to pray the rosary together. We chose the Joyful mysteries because of they celebrate Mary as mother.

The agents were impressively attentive, patient, and respectful, but by the time we got to the fifth mystery -- Jesus is found in the temple -- the only family member under 50 pounds who had remained prayerful was the cat. She was curled up peacefully on my lap with wooden rosary beads around her neck. Agent 002 (who had placed the rosary beads on the cat), was giggling uncontrollably and Agent 004 was in full wiggle mode. My mind was starting to wander a little as well, and I could not get Eamon Kelly's Christmas Eve in Ireland out of my head.

My father, with his mind a thousand miles away, was doing eleven Hail Marys to the decade and twelve Hail Marys to the decade. My mother said 'Glory Ned,' and he, taking that for encouragement did thirteen to the decade.

Yes, that quotation is entirely from memory, and it too is from Paddy Noonan's Christmas Time in Ireland.

If I were to make a New Year's resolution (which I promised myself that I would not do), I would resolve to say the rosary daily. Maybe I'll start out by promising to do so tomorrow. And maybe, if I make that same promise every evening, I will make a habit of it.

It's beginning to look a lot like New Year's

It's beginning to look a lot like New Year's Day
Ev'rywhere you go
Football on every screen
Glistening once again
With yard lines and pigskin aglow.


...too bad my game isn't on until Wednesday.....

The Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

Today is the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. (Wikipedia, About.com) These are particularly powerful readings, but one especially touched me:

I am the woman who stood near you here, praying to the LORD.
I prayed for this child, and the LORD granted my request.
Now I, in turn, give him to the LORD;
as long as he lives, he shall be dedicated to the LORD.”

1 Samuel 1:26-28

Of course, then Hannah left her toddler son Samuel at the temple. Maybe that's not SUCH a good idea.....

This feast always reminds me of the song Wind in the Willows on Paddy Noonan's Christmas Time in Ireland album.
As I went a walkin' one mornin' in spring
I met with some travelers in an old country lane
One was an old man, the second a maid,
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said
Chorus:
We've the wind in the willows,
And the birds in the sky,
We've a bright sun to warm us,
Where ever we lie
We have bread and fishes and a jug of red wine
To share on our journey with all of mankind

I sat down beside them,
The flowers all around,
And we ate on a mantle spread out on the ground
They told me of prophets and princes and kings
And they spoke of the one God who knows everything I asked them to tell me their name and their race
So I might remember their kindness and grace
My name is Joseph, this is Mary my wife
And this is our young son, our pride and delight
We travel the whole world, by land and by sea
To tell all the people how they might be free

Chorus

Sadly, I left them, in an old country lane
For I knew that I never would see them again
One was an old man, the second a maid
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said
We've the wind.... [Chorus]

lyrics from makem.com

What an image of the Holy Family! I can just see the precocious little Jesus talking to his fellow traveler about "prophets and princes and kings... and the one God who knows everything," lilting melodiously about the beauty of God's creation.

A Resolution - Part I

It seems like ages ago that I promised to post. In the interim, we have decorated our house, made tons of ornaments, gone shopping, ridden on the mall carousel, wrapped presents, met Santa Claus, sung "Happy Birthday" over and over, and skied in our backyard. Well that skiing thing was a one-time occurence(today), but I hope that we can do it again :)

My promise to post was made in good faith, but somehow free time in front of the computer has never quite materialized. I won't claim that I haven't had the time, but more that I haven't set aside the time to do it.

So here is my resolution:

3 posts per week. 1 of the "link" variety, 1 of the "think" variety, and 1 of the pic variety.

Let's call this the "thinking" post. Stay tuned for a link and a pic.

Excuses excuses

I know that a promised a real post soon, but we have been keeping ourselves incredibly busy building graham cracker gingerbread houses, designing a Christmas card, making dough ornaments, painting, and playing in the snow.

There are pictures of some of these events, and I will be uploading them to Flickr soon. But I won't promise that it will get done this weekend -- we have guests stopping by tomorrow and I need to actually start Christmas shopping at some point.....

Posts in progress

I have "written" several blog posts in my head, but have not had the dedicated time to commit them to keyboard.

If I don't post in the next few days, please start peppering me with emails asking about Thanksgiving, Christmas decor, preschool, the power of routines, and hugs.

If the FDA regulated the Eucharist

Read the whole thing at Ironic Catholic.

Sean was right

What American accent do you have? Your Result: Boston You definitely have a Boston accent, even if you think you don't. Of course, that doesn't mean you are from the Boston area, you may also be from New Hampshire or Maine.
North Central
The West
The Midland
The Northeast
Philadelphia
The Inland North
The South
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

I hate it when that happens.

Thanksgiving Menu

We'll be having turkey for Thanksgiving. How 'bout y'all?

We are hosting a small T-day get-together for the warillever family -- just me, Mr. warillever, his mother, Uncle Ichabod, and the Agents. Nothing like the forty-person dinners that I'm used to at my folks' house.

Dinner for six should not be stressful -- I do it frequently -- but this is the mother of all feasts, a holiday based upon the abundance of tasty food. I am a little nervous. I have my menu planned, and have been testing out squash dishes for weeks. By the way, I have settled on butternut squash casserole from Allrecipes.com. It is too sweet for my taste, but Mr. warillever approved of it, which might be a first for him on a cooked veggie.

Otherwise, everything will be quite plain:

• Turkey
  
• gravy (jars as backup)
• mashed potatoes
  
• squash casserole (make on Wednesday, in oven last hour of turkey)
• green beans (steam on stove)
• corn (frozen)
• carrots (boil on stove)
• stuffing (Thursday am)
• cranberry sauce (from can)
• crackers/pretzels/breadsticks (from bags)
• veggies (chop, blanch some)
• 3 dips (Wednesday evening)
• oatmeal raisin cookies (kids make Tuesday)
• apple pie (kids make Monday, bake Tuesday)

Catch a Tigger by the tail

The frightening part is that this video was shot before he consumed his weight in candy at a Halloween party.

Books. Is there anything they cant do?

With all that we have heard about the harm of carrying heavy backpacks, it is refreshing to hear that heavy textbooks are good for something -- protection from school shootings.

OKLAHOMA CITY, Oklahoma (AP) -- A candidate for state superintendent of schools said Thursday he wants thick used textbooks placed under every student's desk so they can use them for self-defense during school shootings.
"People might think it's kind of weird, crazy," said Republican Bill Crozier of Union City, Oklahoma, a teacher and former Air Force security officer. "It is a practical thing; it's something you can do. It might be a way to deflect those bullets until police go there."

Read the whole article here.

Before the Secret Service starts bolting books to the White House walls for protection, though, they may want to do some more ballistics tests. Oklahoma Highway Patrol spokesman Lt. Pete Norwood noted that "There are some rifles not even Webster's Dictionary will stop."

Beautiful, Innocent Babies

I love babies.

Cute, huggable, honest babies.

Check out what Luke is saying to his dad.

Congratulations Ruiz family.

My Haiku

I haven't posted anything like this in a while:

Haiku2 for warillever
one too but values like kindness and penitence are the most important
@ aboutmylife.netadvogato.orgblogger.comblogs.gnome.orgblogspot.comdeadjournal.comgreatestjournal.comlivejournal.commyspace.comspaces.msn.com
Created by Grahame

HT: Hello Kitty

Dance Tunes

Agent 002 has quite the itunes playlist going.

• The Hampster Dance Song 3:32 Hampton the Hampster
• Dragostea Din Tei 3:33 O-ZONE
• Carnival de Paris 3:59 Various Artists
• Shake Your Sillies Out 1:35 The Wiggles
• The Chicken Dance 2:05 Fisher-Price Dance, Baby, Dance!
• Dinosaur Dance 4:30 Fab-5
• The Hoppity Song 2:26 John Ondrasik

Anybody know where I could find a version of I Like to Move it without the not-so-kid-friendly voiceover?

You know you’re eating leftovers when...

the menu consists of egg drop soup, spaghetti squash, and potato salad.

Fall Fun

Since I last posted, we have:

been apple picking,

made apple pie

learned about Noah's ark,

made rainbow cookies (see the Noah tie-in?)
jumped on numbers,
jumped on the bouncy castlewith our California friends
built a stepstool,
and watched an exciting pumpkin race.

Wisdom of the Ages (2)

Science can purify religion from error and superstition. Religion can purify science from idolatry and false absolutes.

Pope John Paul II
from Happy Catholic

Did God make Grover?

We are slowly making our way through the Bible as a family. Or at least, we hope to. Inspired in part by the three-year old's "Bible and Rhyme" curriculum at Hubbard's Cupboard, Agents 002 and 004, Cousin F and I have been reading one Bible story a week and doing loosely related art projects. Today's project was "creating" things out of clay.

Then the questions started.

Agent 002: God made me?

me: yes!

Agent 002: God made 004?

meYes!

Agent 002: God made F?

meYes!

Agent 002: God made the toothbrush?

meGod made the people who made the toothbrush.

Agent 002: God made the toilet?

meGod made the people who made the toilet.

Agent 002: God made the cat?

meYes!

Agent 002: God made Grammy?

meYes, He did.

Agent 002: Good.

Then a few minutes later,

Agent 002: Did God make Grover?

me: Hmmm.....

Sneezing syphillis

Now that is an interesting Google search..... I am the #6 result!

Wisdom of the ages (1)

Pray as though everything depended on God. Work as though everything depended on you.

St. Augustine

Apology advice

If Agent 002 does anything to harm another human being, even accidentally, we require that he apologize. The apology must be given directly to the injured party, and the apology modeled for him is specific to the crime as well. For example, "Sorry for hitting you, Agent 004." Apologizing has become automatic for him -- when he bumped into another child at the playground, Agent 002 immediately stopped and apologized. It takes him longer to apologize for acts of anger, and this is probably a good thing. In a four-year old kind of way, he waits until he means it.

Now that Agent 004 is beginning to speak, we ask the same of her as well. In fact, her first two-word sentence was "Sorry, F," delivered spontaneously after bopping Cousin F on the head. She then promptly bopped F again. I fear that instead of teaching her to be penitent, we have taught Agent 004 how to be a hypocrite.

Rationally, I am convinced that my fear is unfounded. I know that the words sometimes come long before the feelings. I understand that she is only two. I KNOW that she is a very good girl (and a cute one too). But values like kindness and penitence are the most important things that we can teach our children.

I make no promise to follow your advice, but out of curiosity I'd like to know -- what do other parents of preschoolers do?

Welcome Baby D!

Our children have a new cousin -- Baby D was born on Wednesday morning. He is his parents' first child, but joins a flock of warillever cousins - Agents 002 and 004 as well as Cousins E, C, T, B, A and Mm. Best wishes to him and his parents!

Note: Our children also have three reprehriestless cousins -- Cousins Aa, Mag, and F. That makes 10 first cousins. Quite a few, but not quite the 44 that I have........

No dessert for you buddy boy

Agent 002 serenaded us at dinner last night:

Happy burpday fart kaka
Happy burpday fart kaka
Happy burpday fart kaka
Happy burpday to you

At least he's creative..........

Update: Agent 002 did not miss dessert because he sang this song, but rather because he continued singing it after he was asked to stop. We are not wanton dessert-stealers. Although I will admit that Mr. warillever did eat said dessert after the agents went to bed. I am told that it was very good, at least as far as instant puddings go.

Wow!

Did I say that there would be fewer football posts? I wrote that when ND was down 31-14.........

I'll admit it, I had given up on this game. A 19-point 4th quarter secured the Irish win. Wow!

Hello again

Inspired by a recent conversation with the Library Despot, I started reading blogs again. I logged into Bloglines and Live Journal for the first time in months. It has been great fun catching up on old friends' lives and travails. I learned about pregnancies, new jobs, and new worries. I also paged through my own archives, and realized that it is an incredible record of what I was thinking and doing at some pivotal points in my life.

I've decided to make another go of blogging. My goal is to post one "Daily Magic" per week, as well as an ocassional reflective piece. There will probably be less commentary on news and football, and more snapshots of our daily lives.

A Very Warillever Christmas

tree
Originally uploaded by warillever.

I'll admit that it is not the prettiest tree ever, but it is something special. Mr. warillever cut it on Saturday evening, and the agents and I decorated it with bows that same evening. After six years with a 3-foot artificial, it feels nice to have a "real" tree in the house.

Still Grateful (Daily Magic #7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and 12)

The dearth of posts does not indicate a lack of magic in our lives; in fact I have not posted because we have been so busy enjoying family friends, and turkey. I am grateful for:

• The smell of wood burning in pre-twilight silence.
• Sunrise. Watching the line of sun move across our frosty lawn offers some compensation for the waking up at 4:30 with a teething agent.
• The Dump. Going to the dump (or "transfer station" or "recycling center") is a New Hampshire institution. Very few towns have municipal trash service, and the majority of homeowners drop off their own trash and recyclable rather than contracting out for pick-up. The Agents and I go once per week. Agent 004 usually sleeps through the experience, but I let Agent 002 'help' toss pre-separated recyclable into the proper bins and heave garbage garbage bags into the compacting chasm.
• Grampy Love. Nearly two weeks ago my father brought Agent 002 with him on a dump-run. My parents actually have roadside pick-up, but need to bring bulk items and yard waste directly to the transfer station. Agent 002 has talked about nothing since -- I have heard " Go see Grampy ride pick-up truck. Dump. Grampy throw sticks." Mind you, this kid goes to our dump with me each week, but going with Grampy, in a pick-up truck, was something extra-special.
• Leftovers. The days after Thanksgiving are filled with turkey, turkey, and more turkey, and maybe some stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pies. Instead of being grateful for our bounty (which is, in fact, the meaning of the holiday), we whine about the monotony of leftovers. I am exasperated by complaints that are neither true nor justified. The first Thanksgiving leftovers (hopefully consumed on fresh rye bread or leftover dinner rolls before the food has even fully cooled) offer an opportunity for stress-free family bonding. After days of laboring over recipes, the leftover turkey sandwich takes no skills or planning to prepare. Whether served buffet style or straight from the refrigerator, the whole family can create their own turkey masterpieces. And then the open-faced turkey sandwiches, turkey pot pie and turkey soup...... I am salivating before our breakfast of turkey omelets.....
• Cousins. Who merit a post all their own.

Happy 150th post!

How far we have come in seven short months........

Daily Magic #5 and #6

I am grateful for:

• The internet which allows me to stay close with old friends, even when they are far away. I have received comments from four midwestern buddies in the past week, which means that at least that many have read my drivel.
• In-Laws who are loving, giving and kind. I am a very lucky warillever indeed.

Pretty as pie

The pies are cooling and actually look quite tasty. I used the recipe in How to Cook Everything, and it was easy enough that I may try this again. Now if only I could get the kitchen cleaned and a suitcase packed quickly enough to get some sleep before Agent 004 wakes up.....

Fortunately Mr. warillever will be driving tomorrow night......

Irony alert

The spell checker embedded in Blogger does not recognize "blog" or "blogger" as words.

Daily Magic #4

I am grateful for:

• Simple Technology: I may be the rare blogger in that I am not at all a gadget freak. I have no cell phone, flash player, or pda, and have little interest in acquiring any of those electronic tethers. I am, however, enamored with the baby monitor. This simple little radio allows me to do things like blog, read, or rake leaves without worrying about the children's well-being. In the twenty minutes that Agent 002's and Agent 004's naps overlap, I can almost pretend that I am in the house all alone..........

Daily Magic #3

I am grateful for:

• Living close to family. We spent the day at my sister M's house yesterday. Their woodshed collapsed after their winter's wood had been stacked last week, so I volunteered Mr. warillever as grunt labor for the day. M, Cousin F, Agent 002, and Agent 004, and I did some socializing inside the house while the guys worked. Sexism at its best.

Cooking for Two

Two Thanksgiving dinners, that is. I offered to bake breads for my mother, and got talked into baking a pie for the dinner we are attending (at y sister-in-law's house).

Did I mention that I have no idea how to make an apple pie? Allrecipes.com here I come!

Daily Magic #2

(to make up for the lack of an entry yesterday)

I am grateful for:

• Silly monk jokes

Daily Magic #1

I am grateful for:

• morning kisses - as Mr. warillever leaves for work, he gives each member of the household a kiss. No matter how late he is running, he takes the time to honor "last time" requests for extra kisses from Agent 002, and even gives the cat a goodbye stroke. Yay for thoughtful Papas.

JPII was grand. Benedict is homey.

The Anchoress has a beautiful post about Pope Benedict's surprisingly warm and approachable manner. The Anchoress ends her post with a fitting metaphor:

John Paul was a mighty pipe organ, dramatic, transcendent, soul-rattling -
almost overwhelming. He brought you to your knees, before God in hushed awe.
Benedict is a piano being played by a musician who plays for love of the music,
and he draws you into his sphere, to sing along in praise.

For all of the talk (from supporters and detractors alike) about the Rottweiller that would close the cafeteria, Pope Benedict has proven to be pastoral and inspiring

Awful Beautiful Life

I listen to music that speaks to me. I have been on a classical kick lately, and just "rediscovered" the power of Mozart. My guilty pleasure, however, is pop-country. One song struck a chord with me today -- Darryl Worley's "Awful Beautiful Life"

I woke up early with a poundin' in my head
I'd been out the night before with all my friends
A little worried, kinda wonderin' what I did
I said, " Lord, please forgive me for my sins."
My wife wanted to kill me, but she tried to save me first
"You're goin' if I have to drag your butt to church."

I love this crazy, tragic,
Sometimes almost magic,
Awful, beautiful life

I read the hymns and kinda sorta sang along
And made it through the Sunday sermon wide awake
We met the family for dinner at our home
Drank some beer, watched a game, and cooked some steaks
My little brother had a big fight with his wife
And my poor mother sat between'em both all night

I love this crazy, tragic,
Sometimes almost magic,
Awful, beautiful life

We said a prayer for Cousin Michael in Iraq
We're all aware that he may never make it back
We talked about the way we missed his stupid jokes
And how he loved to be a soldier more than most

I laid in bed that night and thought about the day
And how my life is like a roller coaster ride
The ups and downs and crazy turns along the way
It'll throw you off if you don't hold on tight
You can't really smile until you've shed some tears
I could die today or I might live on for years

I love this crazy, tragic,
Sometimes almost magic,
Awful, beautiful life

I love this crazy, tragic,
Sometimes almost magic,
Awful, beautiful life

Alright
It's a beautiful life
Awful, beautiful, life
I love this life
It's a beautiful life

Ain't that the truth? Our circumstances are all different, but I bet that we could all describe our lives as "crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic" lives. The trick is to remind ourselves to appreciate the magic in our daily lives.

In this week leading up to Thanksgiving, I will institute a daily feature where I recognize at least one of these magic moments.

Our even smaller artist

Fall Symphony
Originally uploaded by warillever.

Agent 004's first painting. There was as much paint on her pants as on the paper, but her smile made the cleanup worth it.

Our little artist

Masterpiece #1
Originally uploaded by warillever.

Watercolor on paper, created October 2005 by Agent 002

Tired spirals

I am used to being busy. As a college student I balanced a job, activities, and a varsity sport along with classes. After graduation I worked eighty hour weeks as a teacher, regularly waking at 4 am to get papers graded. I then earned a masters degree while working full time.

But being a stay-at-home parent is different. I am not over-scheduled like I was as a student athlete, or drowning in paperwork as I was as a teacher. Except when one of the children is sick, I am not pulling the "all-nighters" that I did in graduate school. Overscheduling, lack of sleep, and balancing work and school made me very tired (see this post for verification of my energy level last spring).

I am not as physically tired as I was then. I am sleeping a solid six or seven hours per night, eating well, and getting exercise. I do have momentary spells of psychic tiredness however. When Agent 002 ignores my third call to "be gentle" with the cat, when Agent 004 wiggles into her own poop during a diaper change, or when the two agents whine simultaneously. I am ashamed to admit that once in a while, I am even get tired of Agent 004 clinging to my leg.

When I am tired, I am impatient. And when I get impatient, the spiral begins. Agent 002 misbehaves and Agent 004 cries for attention. Which makes me more tired. Which makes him act up and her grumpy. Which make me more tired........

I have noticed that the spiral usually begins with me, and have gotten much better at preventing it. But even I do not have the energy to be on all the time..... fortunately my parents' house is a short drive away.

Our woodsman

October05-196
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

My children may be Russian-born, but they proved theselves real New Englanders on Saturday. After two days of below-freezing weather, it was time to stack the firewood in the shed behind the house. Agent 002 started the work himself, bringing the logs over one-by-one. Then "Grampy" (my father) arrived with a trailer to tow behind our lawn tractor. My brother arrived an hour later with a pickup, and the job was nearly done before the rain started back up. It has not yet hit 50 degrees outside today, but our house is warm and cozy.

Good morning, sunshine!

The recent upsurge in blogging has been due, in part, to the cabin fever from two weeks of constant rain. I did not feel comfortable complaining about not playing oudoors when there are seven dead and dozens of newly homeless within fifty miles of us. Many of our near neighbors (including my parents and sister) have had water come in through their roofs and basements. I thank God for the reprieve we got this weekend (3 inches of rain instead of a possible 6), and I am VERY grateful for the small ray of sunlight in my backyard this morning.

I'm a happy girl today

Lyrics of the day

If I’m a happy man today, I don’t know about tomorrow,
Will I be in ecstasy or deep in debt and sorrow,
There’s a pint upon the table, there’s another on the way
And with the girl beside me, I’m a happy man today.

There are some who rush about in a panic and a hurry,
While others lie in bed on their backs and worry,
And with all that care and worry,bolted doors and locked-up locks,
We’ll all end up in safety pushing daisies in a box.

(chorus)

I suppose that there are those whose life is only roses,
And they only have to pluck to hold them to their noses
And there’s others on the slag heap,and if they search and pray,
There’s a chip of glass might glisten like a diamond in the day.

Now I don’t have all the answers,and I don’t have all the questions
And the worries of the world be solved by my suggestions.
But this is one suggestion,that you raise your glass and say,
I don’t know about tomorrow, I’m a happy man today.

Running up the ratings

It seems that all of the random hits on my blog come to the posts on Notre Dame football. I was flattered to notice that a search for Charlie Weis on MSN brought me to the top of the list, then noticed that the searcher and I both mistyped his name.... or maybe the searcher was really looking for Charile, and was disappointed to find a football post.....

I've had a couple of other things going one this fall, so I have not been writing much about football. I have not, however, stopped watching the games. Despite our lack of television reception, we have managed to catch at least a piece of the game online or by mooching off of friends and family who live in civilization.

I am cautiously optimistic about the USC game. I am not delusional enough to consider ND a favorite, but I do agree with Pete at Blue-Gray Sky that "USC should win this football game, but Notre Dame definitely could." That is exactly what Notre Dame has been missing for most of the last decade -- the swagger, the hope, the faith that they will be able to pull off the impossible.

I am not an alum. I was paid for my affiliation with Notre Dame. But I love thee Notre Dame, and I am very roud to be a fan. (And the Gerry Faust interview at Catholic Report doesn't hurt my opinion at all [HT: Annunciations].)

Go Irish -- beat Trojans!

Update (10/15 10pm): After that heartbreak of a loss, I am still wth you Pete -- I've never been prouder to be a Notre Dame fan.

Ya igrai-oo ya -- I am playing, I am

I am starting to learn that letting the kids play without intervention is not neglect. In fact, it may actually be good for their development. Or at least for my sanity.....

Currently, Agent 004 is sitting on the kitchen floor with a toy train while Agent 002 rolls blocks down the hallway. He "borrows" the train every few minutes, but Agent 004 doesn't seem to mind, so I am letting it go.

No matter what he is doing, Agent 002 will give me an update whenever he sees me. The most common are "Ya igrai-yoo ya" (I am playing, I am) and "Ya byegai-yoo" (I am running). I am not sure if he just wants to chat, or if he thinks that I am blind.

Agent 004 is trying out her laughing voice. She has a very squeaky voice, but her newest laugh is deep and full. A lot like 002's in fact......

Did I mention that Agent 002 is a three-year old baritone? With 004's soprano, we may have an interesting ensemble some day.

Enough neglect for one morning. I am going to put in some playing time now.

Does this make me a moderate?

You are a Social Conservative (36% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (36% permissive) You are best described as a: Centrist Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Does anyone find it significant that I am in the same quadrent as Pope John Paul II and Joseph Stalin?

HT: Anchoress

No commie coffee for me please

A Zogby poll shows that liberals, progressives, and urbanites prefer Starbucks to Dunkin Donuts, while Dunkin Donuts is more popular among senior citizens, rural Americans, and those on the East coast.

I'll keep drinking the official coffee of the world-series-champion Red Sox, thank you.
[who are coincidentally up 5-3 over the "Evil Empire"in the bottom of the 7th]

HT: Catholic Light

Meow, meatballs, and other firsts

Agent 004's first English word was "Mama."

Okay, that is a Russian word too, but she really does know what it means. She says just those two syllables, then giggles whenever I kiss her belly during a diaper change. I may be deluding myself, but as a first-time mother I have that right and I am going with it. The kid knows my name, and I eat it up.

Her second word was funnier. That was "meow." Not meow pronounced like a person reading the written word, but an exact copy of Janice's incessant cry. You honestly need to look to see which four-legged creature the sound came from. Sometimes, they converse back and forth in indistinguishable screaches. I am not sure if either has figured out that they belong to different species.

Now for those that know me, Agent 004's first sample of table food will really shock you -- she ate four entire (but diced) meatballs from last night's spaghetti and meatball dinners at Grammy's house. The near-vegetarian mother and her carnivore daughter. She has since eaten toast, a carrot chunk, and fork-mashed peas. Now that is a girl after my own heart!

The calm after the storm

This is not a post about hurricanes. I have nothing meaningful to add to the discussion of Hurricanes Rita and Katrina other than to wish some mercy on the people of the Gulf Coast for the remainder of the hurricane season.

The post is about real life. My real life. My real life with a husband and two kids in a suburban farmhouse in New England. A real life in which my job is to watch out for the well-being of two small but independent beings who call me Mama.

After three years of wishing for children and working towards their adoption, after two years of heartbreak and delay, after a summer of frantic transitions -- they are finally here and finally "real".

Even the first few weeks weren't "real;" it felt like a movie plot that we were acting in. We went from no children to one child to two children and from apartment guests to hotel residents to family visits to home with everything a blur. Those first few weeks were about getting by, not about "living."

Life is still chaotic, but it is now the chaos of everyday life. It is the screams of stolen toys and sleepy wimpers, of spilled lunch and bumps and bruises. I am coming to terms with this as my reality. I am overstretched,exhausted, and sometimes frustrated, but extremely content. This is my reality, and I love it.

Update: to highlight the chaos that I call my life, note that this post was written last Saturday, but saved as a draft because I was distracted by a small person's whimper. Sorry about not publishing it sooner.

Tuning out, Tuning in, Starting over

As any new stay-at-home parent well knows, it is very hard to get a moment alone to read a newspaper, watch the news, or check blogs. You don't even have the "luxury" of a commute to work in which you can listen to the radio uninterupted.

Anyone who reads this blog understands that I am a bit of a news freak, so it was a major blow to be so out of the loop.

Last night was my first attempt to read blogs since May. I had over 7000 unread posts accumulated in my RSS aggregator. I tried to skim, I tried to prioritize, and then I just decided to start over.

Note to friends virtual and real -- if you have posted anything in the past three months, I probably haven't read it. Sorry. But in order to move on, I have marked all as read.

...And I think that I will be cutting back on some of the 129 feeds.....

Ug

Mama warillever is still floating on cloud nine, but unfortunately, much of that "floating" feeling is the result of the cold medication I just took.

Just as everyone had started to adjust to the new home and new time zone, the head cold from #### struck with a vengeance. Mr. Warillever began his new job yesterday with a packet of tissues in each pocket; Agent 004 has the worst combination of booger and teething drool that you can imagine. Agent 002 looks to be the best off -- other than a slight cough, he is the same as usual. Of course, we might all be better off if a cold would sap some of his energy........

Naptime Bliss

I love my children -- they are wonderful in every way.

I love watching them experience new things and love watching them recognize old pleasures. Agent 002's pure enjoyment of his first potato chip at lunch today was just precious.

I even love their tantrums, because it gives me a glimpse into who they really are and what they really want.

Seeing Agent 004's exhileration as she stood on her own last night was great -- seeing her do it twice this morning was incredible.

But naptime is my time. Now that they are (finally) napping at the same time, I am able to get a few things accomplished, and have a cup of tea. JOY!

Girls' Morning Out

In response to "Guys' Night Out" (in which my husband and son go out for ice cream while I get the baby fed, bathed and to sleep), comes "Girls' Morning Out." This is when the girls (Agent 004 and I) go for a walk while the guys (Papa and Agent 002) sleep in. Have you noticed that the guys get the sweet end of both of these events?

Both of these rituals are the result of four people with very different schedules living in one 100 square foot room. The children have been surprisingly good about the lack of space; Agent 004 has a managable amount of space to scoot, crawl, and pull herself about; Agent 002 has just enough room to play his favorite game -- throwing all of his blocks under the furnniture and then retrieving them with a plastic rake. The obvious difficulty is that the children have vastly different sleep schedules and constantly wake each other up. Thus I am at the internet cafe with Agent 004 sleeping in her stroller as Agent 002 should awake very soon from his middday nap. Hopefully with the change in time zones we will be able to adjust their afternoon naps to coincide......

Have I mentioned yet that this parenthood thing rocks? Even a full month in, I am still loving it.

Two weeks as a parent.......

Russia 5:24pm

Having just started my third week as a parent, I am beginning to laugh at the folly of my ways in the first days. Some rules for those who are starting out :

1. Never, ever, put orange juice in a sippy cup.
2. Do not say the word "cookie" when you have none one hand, even if your son did not know any English a week ago.
3. Toys should never come within a hundred meter radius of a toilet.
4. When booking a hotel, make sure there will be screens on the windows, especially if you will be on the 21st floor.
5. When a toddler says that he needs to go "pee-pee," do not hold him up against your own chest to get him there faster.
6. Two parents are easier than one. Three would be better.

So far so good. Our family of three is getting along very well. We will see how things work out when we add a fourth family member in a week..........

Light posting (again)

12:18 Moscow

I will probably not be able to post much next week, if at all. Being alone with Agent 002, I don't think that spending an hour in an internet cafe in the middle of a shopping mall is the wisest idea.

If things work out that Mr. Warillever comes to Russia soon, then I may be able to resume posting on a limited basis. For those trying to follow our flight plans from home, if a court date for Agent 004 is scheduled for anytime soon, Mr. Warillever will join Agent 002 and I in Russia as soon as he can. I Agent 004's court date is delayed, Agent 002 and I will fly home, and we will all return to Russia whenever Agent 004 is ready.

All of this hinges on whether or not our case is fit in before the judge's vacation. There is only one judge in Agent 002's region, and that one judge has a six week vacation scheduled from mid-August through October. So she will be with us soon, or not for a while.

All that I have missed!

Moscow 15:26

I went most of the summer without internet -- we had just moved and were spending time in Russia -- so I stopped reading news and blogs. What I missed --

• One of my friends is getting married! (Ruth -- I don't know you're email address, so send me one -- to warillever or the other one -- and we'll exchange snail mail addresses)
• There is a new Supreme Court nominee. I don't know enough about him to know if he will be a good justice, but I see that he has made the right enemies -- The Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice and Planned Parenthood oppose him.
• The Strattons are home with their baby!
• Catholics are now considered Christians, by Bethany Christian Services, at least.

It looks like good news all around.

Getting excited

I should know better, but I am beginning to get excited. Unless something goes awry today, Agent 002 will be released to my custody on Monday. As in, on Monday, he will officially, legally, and completely be a Warillever. My son. Our son.

I went shopping -- I bought him slippers (Russians do not where shoes in their homes) and a few toys. Nothing major mind you -- I am a little strapped for cash and I know that I will need to lug this all home -- but I bought him his very own sandbox shovel, a plastic dumptruck, and a small car. I really wanted to get him a Tonka truck, but thought better of it.

Did I mention that he is obsessed with cars? And that he will be our son on Monday?

Residential Skyline

Residential Skyline
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

...and a different view of Moscow.

Beautiful Moscow

Kremlin
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

Kitty

Kitty
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

Even the cats are tired in Moscow.

There seems to be a national sleep-crisis, where the only place people sleep is on park benches or in the metro.

So much to say

If we did this again, I would bring a laptop with me.

I have several blog posts written out longhand which I have not had time at a computer to post. With my limited online time, precededence goes to communication with my husband and with my adoption agency. Sorry.

Here are some titles of the posts that are written or in process: "The joy of cooking," "An opportunity for identity theft," "Ruskii Bwit," "Where happy meets sad,"The (comparative) cost of living," "Moscvichii," and "People on the metro."

Most blog thoughts come to me during the 90 minute commute to Agent 002's baby home, and then flit away as I spend the next two hours playing with him. The trick is to write them down at lunchtime.

Oh Beautiful Night

Moscow
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

It does actually get dark in Moscow in the summer. Very late at night, that is. When I first got here, it was only dark from midnight to 4am. It is now 10:30 to 5 or so.

Bird Stalker

Russian Pigeon
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

I have been stalking birds here too. I will have lots of pictures like this o share when I return.

Agent 002 talks

13:38 Moscow

Some of you have asked (with unnecessary embaressment) whether Agent 002 speaks English or Russian.

He does, in fact, speak Russian, although he is quickly learning English. His vocabulary now includes:

• car
• bye-bye
• no
• fly (applied to all insects, just as he calls all insects 'mooka' in Russian)
• God bless you

That last one cracks me up. He appears to be allergic to pollen, and was sneezing like mad this morning. I said "God bless you" after each sneeze, and soon he was pretending to sneeze so that I would say it again. When I fake-sneezed, he pronounced (with no discernable accent) "God bless you" to me. Neat.

Alone again (but healthy)

13:07 Moscow

Mr. Warillever is enroute to the United States again. Someone has to take care of the cat, you know. And prepare the house, which is still in a state of complete disarray. And study for the bar of course. He is very nervous about the bar; he claims to be very distracted from his studies. Not sure why.

His distraction is not the result of poor health; we were both tested for AIDS, syphillis, hepatitis and somthing else this morning. My Russian is not good enough to understand technical terms. The judge in Agent 004's case requires these tests, and I would not have time to have it done in the US before her proceeding. Mr. Warillever had his done with me for moral support (and so that he would not have to deal with the logistics of scheduling it once he gets home. Something about being very busy).

So here I am, alone in Moscow. I have the middle of the day free while Agent 002 and his compatriots nap; I spend the morning and afternoon with him. The poor little guy is getting very impatient to leave the home -- he cried as we left the past few days. I know that I can't let his crying get me down, but it breaks my heart. I cry too as soon as I leave the orphanage gate. At least I have a long walk to clean myself up before I get to the Metro.

And the Verdict is?

12:53pm Moscow

....that Agent 002 is our son.

Mr. Warillever and I went to court yesterday to officially petition to adopt Agent 002. The proceeding was more intensive than our translator had expected, but nonetheless went very smoothly. I knew that we had everything in order, that we would have already known if there was a major problem with our petition, but I was still shaking. I stopped breathing when the judge left the bench to "consider" her decision. I have no idea how long she was gone -- 30 seconds, 10 minutes, or an hour -- but when she came back she read a declaration announcing that she approved our petition.

Of course, it is not yet over. All MosGorSud (Moscow City Court) decisions have a ten-business-day period in which the decision can be appealed. During this time the little Agent will stay at the Baby Home. There is no reason to think that anyone would appeal the decision, but there is still a bit of nailbiting going on on my end.

My backpack, My life

11am Moscow time

front pocket

• half-eaten roll of Smarties
• map of Moscow
• small notebook for jotting addresses, directions, and mass times
• open package of Halls' lozenges
• 3 pens
• 2 pencils
• passport with visa and registration card
• travel pack of baby wipes
• 2 tampons

middle pocket

• Moscow guidebook in which to keep dollar bills flat
• camera bag holding camera and extra battery. Apartment keys clipped to bag.
• plastic bag with lunch enclosed -- cheese sandwich and tomato.
• Book -- Reading Rooms (which I would highly recommend to thsoe librarian types out there)
• USB cord

back pocket

• notebook for writing details of day, keping talley of expenses, and for drafting email messages and blog entries (This entry was written on Manezh Square, sitting next to te\he Lennon impersonator who charges 150 rubles to have your picture taken with him. He currently has no customers, so he is feeding the pigeons and chatting with Karl Marx adn Tsar Nicholas I) -- note: I left this area when the Tsar started hitting on me.
• blue folder with official documents such as power of attorney for husband
• purple folder of info including agency fee agreeements, the Agents' growth charts, and lists of questions and phone numbers
• brown cardigan

side pocket

• Nestle water bottle refilled with water boiled in tea kettle last night

Double agent

Double agent
Originally uploaded by warillever.

Agent 004 on the scene

Agent 004 is quite the charmer. I spent 5 hourse with her yesterday, and other than a shriek when her hat was put on, she did not cry. She did smile, laugh, and babble a bit. She is frightenly mobile -- she crawls and "table walks,"** but she was also quite happy nestled in my arms.

There are eight babies in her group -- 2 boys and six girls. All are the same age. One of the others (Code Name: Shamrock) will be adopted at the same time by a family from Ireland. Agent 004 and CN Shamrock are only days apart in age. I exchanged addresses with her future parents so that Agent 004 can keep in touch with someone from her former life.

It was hard to say goodbye, but like Agent 002, she is in good hands at the baby home. teh staff are sad to see the babies leave, but are genuinely happy to see them get families.

** I think the term is generally "couch walking" -- i.e. walking while grasping onto a piece of furniture. We use what we've got.

Live from Moscow!

15:47 Moscow time

As my life gets more exciting, I post less and less.... The last six weeks have been a whirlwind -- I graduated from library school, my husband graduated from law school, we moved halfway accross the country, we bought a house, we sold a house (yes...in that order), we spent a week in Russia to meet one child (Agent 002), we unpacked our house, and now I am back in Russia to meet a second child (Agent 004) and to complete the adoption of Agent 002.

I visited Agent 002 today. He was very happy to see me. We go to court to adopt him next Tuesday, and then he and I will stay in Moscow for three weeks to complete paperwork. I brought him a photoalbum today, and he really liked it. He showed it off to his caretakers and friends -- "Look -- this is my house. Look -- this is my cat!" (In Russian, of course).

I meet with Agent 004 tomorrow. I am not as nervous as I was when I met 002, because she is too young to dislike me. I have never been to the city she lives in before, so that should be an adventure all its own. Tula is located about two hours south of Moscow. We will spend the day there, returning late tomorrow night.

Next time I post I will try to bring landscape pictures for show and tell. Sorry, I can't post pictures of Agents 002 and 004 until they are totally and completely legally mine. I am checking email every few days, but may not have time to respond to everything, because I am paying by the minute for service.

Why can't anything be simple?

We have had an incredibly exhilarating week. Do not let anything in the next few paragraphs make you forget that we are incredibly happy about the way things are working out. We are new homeowners and we are travelling to Russia next week to meet our future son.

Now for the whining.

The plan for the week was as follows:

• Sunday -- graduation.
• Monday -- pack moving truck.
• Tuesday -- closing on sale of old house, drive moving truck to New Hampshire.
• Wednesday -- do some errands.
• Thursday -- final walkthrough of new house, simultaneous homestudy.
• Friday -- close on new house, move in.

Some of these things (namely those on Sunday, Monday, and Thursday) happened. But the old house did not close on Tuesday. Then (after repeated reassurances and a few lies from a number of sources), it did not close on Wednesday or Thursday. We did not have final word until late Thursday. After much nailbiting, it closed this morning, and we were able to close on the new house just afterwards. But wait -- the paperwork never actually came through! Technically we are inhabiting a house owned by someone else. Not as if the former/current owner cares -- he has already been paid. But we have a moving truck in the driveway of a house we live in but don't yet legally own.

So why do I have the time to blog? Because I was tasked with handling adoption paperwork, but have been forgetting paperwork at whichever house I am not currently at. I need to have our visa applications overnighted by 5pm in order to have permission to enter Russia. I am at my parents' house because I forgot our visa applications here. I am waiting here because I forgot our passports (which need to be shipped to the Russian consulate) at the new house. My father is enroute with the passports and photos.

After eighteen moths of waiting and waiting, we got nine days notice to travel. Plane tickets have been purchased. Obnoxiously expensive hotel room booked for one night. Will work on finding a better option for the other days. Must get visa within next few days.

But we get to meet him! And then we will go back in a few short (!?!) weeks to adopt him. And all is good. All is very good.

For those who asked, the cat is recovering well from her motion sickness. She will be staying with my parents for a couple of weeks as we have doors open for moving boxes in and as we travel to Russia. She really seems to like it here. She likes the neighbors. She likes my dad. She likes the fluffy rugs. She likes the cozy nook on the desk. She may not want to move back in with us when the time comes.....

First New Hampshire post

We just arrived at my parents' house. Other than one vomiting incident, the trip was uneventful. More words and pictures soon.

Love thee Notre Dame

Notre Dame, our Mother
Tender, strong and true
Proudly in the heavens,
Gleams thy gold and blue.
Glory's mantle cloaks thee
Golden is thy fame,
And our hearts forever,
Praise thee, Notre Dame.
And our hearts forever,
Love thee, Notre Dame.

Not a linker or a thinker, but a reader

My name is reprehriestless warillever and I am a reader. I read books, I read newspapers, I read magazines, and I read blogs. I also read cereal boxes, beer cans, grocery receipts, and road signs. I will read any words that come in front of my eyes. And I remember everything that I read.

Unfortunately this affinity for reading has not resulted in a talent for writing. Although I am proficient at academic prose, I have yet to find my voice in this less formal medium.

The greatest challenge is that this blog has no direction. I am not trying to prove anything. I have no news to tell, no axe to grind, and no position to defend. For good or for bad, it is neither a personal diary nor a political soapbox. It is not angry, prayerful, or even insightful. Consider it a semi-daily reflection on the world around me.

I hope that my friends are getting to know me in ways that they never would have. For the strangers, I hope that I have given you a window into a world you hadn't seen before.

My in-laws just arrived. I'll be back to you soon!

Upstaged by a monster

Grover has been updating his photo blog. He went to Grand Rapids with us on Wednesday, and wanted to let you all know about it.

Show off.

Flickr RSS2 feed Atom

I love Indiana

County Line Landfill
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

...for the landforms!

Isn't this the cheerist little landfill you have ever seen? It is the only hill between South Bend and Indianapolis, and it sure is cute. If it weren't for the overpowering smell of garbage, it would be a perfect picnic spot.

I love South Bend

hydrant
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

...and so does this hydrant!

We are busy packing and enertaining guests this week, so I will not be posting much. I do have a series of duck stalking pictures that I will post soon, though.

Interview (Part 3 of 5)

part 1 | part 2

If you could take a trip anywhere, where would you go?

I would drop everything at a moment's notice to meet our children in Russia. I have a packing list prepared for each person and could be ready in minutes flat.

That's kinda the answer to another question, though.

I have several adventures in mind, including a hike of the entire Appalachian Trail and the Western Way in Ireland. I'm also a big fan of car trips -- some of my greatest memories are from a cross-country trip with my husband the summer after we graduated from college. We'd like to drive through the Canadian Maritimes and accross the southern part of the US.

The only fru-fru coice on my list? Going to Pasadena, California for the Rose Bowl Parade. I wouldn't even have to see the game, although I might be convinced to go if say it was the BCS championship and Notre Dame was playing.....

Interview (Part 2 of 5)

part 1

What scares you most about moving to the East Coast?

Moving itself! Moving stinks. We'll spend days packing all of our stuff into boxes, attempting to do so in an organized fashion so that nothing gets lost. We'll have everything boxed up, labeled well, and lugged out to the moving truck. As we leave, we will do one last run-through of the house. Someone will notice that no one emptied the lower drawer in the bathroom. There will be no boxes left, and that stuff will be tossed into a garbage bag, and that bag will be thrown behind the passenger's seat of the car. It will be weeks before that bag makes it into the new house. By that time, I will have bought myself three new scrunchies to sleep in, because we have no idea where they got packed.

Even though the East Coast is home, there will be some culture shock. That is worrisome. But we'll deal.

Forest

forest
Originally uploaded by warillever.

Interview (Part 1 of 5)

What excites me most about moving to the East Coast?

Meeting my new niece. She is only eleven days old and even over the phone I can tell that she is a character. I want to see my oldest sister, the person who basically raised me, with her daughter. I want to drink tea with my mother, and hang out in the garage with my brothers.

I want to see landforms. I want to go for a walk where the scenery changes when I round a bend. I want to go for a run where my legs burn from going uphill for 20 minutes. I want a bikeride where I don't have to pedal because gravity carries me down the hill. I want to go up to my ankles in a rapidly rushing stream. I want to go to teh top of a hill and look out over miles and miles of trees.

Getting a decent cup of coffee that doesn't cost $3.

Having a meal with family that doesn't take three weeks to plan. Going to baptisms and first communions and birthday parties without killing half of my vacation allotment.

Working on our new house. Planning a garden from scratch. Setting up the home library. Decorating the kiddos' rooms.

Being home.

The Good Stuff

A friend recently noted in her online journal that she is "poised on the edge of events that I think I've been waiting my entire life to experience." Her post is anxious, but full of life. She is excited to be at the place she is in life, on the cusp of major change, but ready for it. I really respect her for being so excited, so "overwhelmed by emotion" by all of the stuff going on around her.

In short, I think that she gets it. That she understands what is worth worrying about. She is looking for (and may have found) the GOOD STUFF.

The GOOD STUFF, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, are those things that really matter, like

the sight of her holdin’ my baby girl.
The way she adored that string of pearls,
I gave her the day that our youngest boy, earl,
Married his high school love.
An’ it’s a new tee-shirt saying: ’I’m a grandpa’.
Bein’ right there as our time got small,
An’ holdin’ her hand, when the good lord called her up,
Yeah, man, that’s the good stuff.

These are, of course, lyrics from a country song. The Good Stuff by Kenny Chesney. The song is about a newlywed in the middle of his first major fight with his wife. He goes to a bar, asks for the "good stuff," and the elderly barkeeper explains that a bar is not the place to find "the good stuff;" that is at home.

I am convinced that the secret of life is fully explicated in country music lyrics.

We are always on the cusp of something. The trick is to remember what is worth worrying about.

What a boring life!

I am not complaining. In fact, I am joyous about this. There is no horror, no comedy, no drama. Just a set of tasks with deadlines. I can handle that!

This says a lot

tags
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

This is a tagmap of the pictures I have in this Flickr account. Telling.

Smart Cat

Learned Cat
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

Cute Couple

Cute Couple
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

The Odd Threesome

The Odd Threesome
Originally uploaded by Reprehriestless.

I love myself!

This is darned entertaining -- check out the "I love myself" version of this page.

And you can make your own Malkovich Mediator.

Study types

Barely Legal is blogging about the people you meet during exams. Working in a library and being a perpetual student myself, I see these people everyday. Most of those here are Braggarts, but I meet my share of Possums too.

Braggrats are those who pride themselves on working the hardest, and need to tell everyone about it. Like this conversation:

Braggart A: "I'm exhausted, I've been here for eight hours."

Braggart B: "Really? I've been here for ten and I'm just getting started."

Braggart A: "Well, I just finished my Tax outline. It's 60 pages long."

Braggart B: "60? Is that all? Mine is 75, and I finished a week ago. But I'm sure you'll still pass."

Braggart B has won. He is the new Alpha of the bragging nerds. Braggart A must retreat back to his cubicle to see if he can lengthen that tax outline at all.

Possums are the real sneaky ones. They claim to be clueless, but they really have it nailed.

In reality, she is fully confident in her ability to succeed on her exams. Her "playing dumb" is just a smokescreen to hide the many hours she spends perfecting her outlines and memorizing the UCC. Of course, the following semester, when she learns that she got a 3.7, she acts genuinely surprised, as if it were some fluke.

At the end of the day, I like to have The Possum around. She is sort of like a stripper: She makes you feel better about yourself, even though you know she is lying.

In reality, they are probably just fishing for a compliment or for a copy of your notes. Or they are really uncreative when it comes to pick-up lines....

Not yet a saint

...but Pope John Paul II will have a school named after him.

St. Peter and All Hallows elementary schools in Sacramento will merge next year. Students at both schools were asked what they want the new school to be named. They chose John Paul II Elementary School. [read the article here. via Curt Jester]

The Rome Depot

Click the pic for Curt Jester's "Ultimate in Rome Improvement"

On the power of art

Chiesa has an article about "what really happened at the conclave." What hit me was the power of Michelangelo's frescoes. How does it feel to have the weight of choosing the sucessor to St. Peter while looking straight at "The Judgement?"

HT: Annunciations

The Pope's right hand

The Pope's right hand...... woman? Didn't the press say that this guy was anti-woman? According to this article, Pope Benedict's chief advisor is Ingrid Stampa. Their relationship is compared to Karen Hughes' with President Bush.

HT: Zadok the Roman

Where are you, Refman?

I wrote a post about washing my underwear.
I scheduled your life without asking.
And you did not comment at all.

I am beginning to think that you don't care.

I have not abandonded you

...but I have had little time for blogging over the past week. It looks like this week will be just as busy.

Despite my most valiant efforts, the image search essay is still not done, and we have yet to start formal planning for the presentation on Friday. Ialso still have to revise, reformat, and polish an essay on Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, as well as get permission to use images in it, if I can figure out where those images actually came from.

I am down to 4.5 days of work, and am expected to accomplish as much as I normally do in a month.

Additionally, it is still not clear whether or not our house will actually be sold when we need it to be. This means lots of frantic phone calls with real estate agents, mortgage people, insurance people, utilities, and others. And we need to buy a washing machine in the next 15 days. Oh. And packing. And lots of silly ceremonies. And a ton of visiting family.

This is not a stressed post; in fact I think that we are handling quite well. The post is just to explain why you haven't seen me around the blogosphere very much.

And I have a plan.

Monday	hand wash "necessaries" cook for the week (no shopping required) two nights pork-n-rice two nights salmon casserole one night leftover Chinese food (cook more rice) proof-read image retrieval essay & submit clean house for appraisal clean bathrooms swiffer all wood floors dust tidy study mop tile floors go to work
Tuesday	reformat citations in FASD article write my section of lesson plan go to work
Wednesday	revise FASD article update dated sections of FASD article make up props for lesson plan go to work early for farewell lunch
Thursday	Last day of work!!!!! rehearse lesson plan (depending on partner's sechedule) revise lesson plan as needed go to work further revisions to lesson plan
Friday	Last day of school!!!!!

I apologize for the excruciatingly boring post, but I figure that if I tell y'all about it, then I'll have to do it as stated. Procrastination would then be failing y'all. If you see me online, question my progress, because I need to get all of this done in the non-work hours of the next 6 days.

Then I can enjoy my one remaining week in the 'Bend.