Taking care of Gus

2006-06-24T15:14:00.000-05:00

I might be juggling too many balls right now or I could just be hormonally challenged due to the "baby growing in mama's belly" as my husband and I like to say to my son. Or maybe both.

I'm over half-way through my pregnancy! So, the physical discomforts have set in. Sleeping on your back, hurts your back. Sleeping on your side, hurts your hips. Sleeping on your belly is impossible unless you are a contortionist with Cirque de Solei. So, I feel like a chicken roasting on a spit fire all night. Constantly being turned and feeling painful burning from the direction directly below me.

We are trying our hand at being landlords. We bought an investment property in May that we quickly did some minor work on, in order to pass city inspection, and rented it out. And we found a new house for ourselves to move into, and decided to rent out the house we are currently living in- keeping your house constantly clean and show ready is not easy nor enjoyable. We did recently get someone to sign a lease and they will be moving in as soon as we move out the weekend of August 10-13. I look around myself and realize the astonishing fact that we have to PACK all of those legos and books and Thomas the Tank Engine toys. And then, we have all the things we own too. And we have to transition our son to living in a new house. And we have very few free weekends it seems, between social engagements, to get all this done.

So, it could be all the juggling or it could be the hormones raging through my body due to the wee one who is constantly kicking me and wriggling around (this one is definitely a mover and a shaker!), but I'm feeling tired, sad and a bit overwhelmed today.

When's vacation?

2006-06-24T15:06:00.000-05:00

Despite all the happiness, a bubble of the blues, likes to rear its ugly head. I see it all the time, in people I know and myself. It made me think of one of my favorite blog writer's struggle with depression. This is one of my favorite entries, Heather Armstrong, ever wrote on depression at dooce.com:

Six times the suck
Tuesday, 13 September 2005
This past weekend I discovered a fail-safe method of making myself feel like an astounding idiot, more fail-safe than that time my mother-in-law told me that she saw someone in church with shoulders just like mine, you know, so wide that they blocked her view of the pulpit. I didn’t even have to leave my house or open my mouth which more than half of the time ends up in a spectacular display of stupidity anyway. Sometimes, more often than not, I don’t even have to leave the house. For instance, this morning I sat on my couch and told the Internet that my husband was taking a dump.
Saturday night Jon and I watched two shows on the Discovery Channel, the first one about two families raising sextuplets, and the second one about three families raising triplets. Not once during the entire two-hour period did any of those parents throw heavy objects at each other or turn to the camera and say, “Let this be a warning and have your legs sewn shut.” The only complaint anyone had was, yeah, sometimes we don’t get much sleep, and we don’t get out like we used to. And every other sentence ended in, “It’s so worth it we are literally shitting sunshine.”
I watched in horror as these families had to bathe and feed and clothe one infant as a multitude of other infants screamed and waited their turns. I watched diaper changes multiply by six and strollers fold out into aircraft carriers. I kept waiting for the part in the program where the mother got so fed up that she said that she was leaving for Montana and that if she didn’t return no one should go looking for her. But they didn’t show that part. Or the part where maybe she started seeing sores on her body that didn’t exist because the she was supplementing her sleep deprivation with an excessive amount of vodka.
These women were clean and pressed and from all appearances were changing their underwear on a regular basis. And they were doing it with six times the kid I have. And no one admitted to being on any type of mood enhancer, not even French fries. I barely made it to the end of the second show before I had my head buried into Jon’s armpit, apologizing through sobs for being so damaged. How could I, under the weight of only one child, have collapsed with such epic incompetence while these women juggled six times the responsibility without showing a single crack or blemish? Jon let me cry, but then he rightfully pointed out, “Heather, there is no valedictorian of motherhood.”
These feelings of inadequacy were compounded by the fact that I started a new drug last week that for two days made me feel like a normal human being, so normal in fact that I thought something must have been wrong. Part of me feels like I’m not allowed to feel normal, and I called Jon in the middle of the day to say, “YOU PEOPLE FEEL LIKE THIS? IS THIS EVEN LEGAL?” But after watching these women handle six babies with so much ease I started to let my negativity get the better of me. I don’t know many people over the age of 65 who take as many drugs as I do. In order to feel okay like every one else, in order to be able to handle stress like every one else, I have to endure a pharmacist who sees me coming, turns to the technician and mumbles under his breath, “Oh God, here she comes. It’s your turn.”
But I know fundamentally that I shouldn’t doubt myself like this. It’s not fair to me, nor is it fair to women who suffer like me. Just like it wouldn’t be fair for someone who suffers from another disease to think of herself as less of a person just because of the disease. But when I see shows like the ones we watched this weekend I can’t help but come face to face with the reality that my disease, the one so many of us suffer in silence, carries with it such an unnecessary stigma that a cable channel that would go ahead and show the inside of a 200-pound tumor is unwilling to show the inside of motherhood.
Maybe I just haven’t seen the Inside Motherhood program, but if it exists it had better show the mother during the first year of the baby’s life turning to the father and saying, “If you want to live to see daylight you had better not even look at my boobs as ANYTHING other than vessels of sustenance for the child you deposited in my womb.” I know that the mothers on those shows were feeling some of my same feelings I had, but the producers and editors didn’t let any of it through. Perhaps the mothers themselves didn’t let any of it through, and I can understand why. I want an A+ in motherhood, too.

2006-06-09T21:22:00.000-05:00

It's cute when I watch my son mowing with his toy mower, right behind his daddy with the big mower. Up and down, in straight lines, pretending to be a man.

2006-05-18T15:11:00.000-05:00

The Things You Don't Know Until...

you are the mom of a little boy. At some point, after potty training them, summer will descend upon your life, and you will realize, there is far little time to run from the backyard to the deck, through the dining room and through the living room to the stairs and up to the upstairs bathroom. It is far easier to teach them how to pee standing up outside behind the garage and on the tiger lilys nobody ever sees anyway. It is not easy, however, to teach something you don't know how to do yourself. I've never had to pee standing up and I didn't know that there has to be upward and outward ARC, to prevent toe splashing. What do you do, when the stream nears its end? I haven't figured out that one yet. So, although we have successfully mastered beginning and middle standing pee, we have not figured out how to wrap the whole thing up. I keep asking my bewildered husband, who apparently doesn't want to share this male secret with me. I just wish he would share it with my son.

The things you don't know until you've been a mom to a baby. Don't ever judge another mom of a baby, because you just don't know what it is like to take care of HER baby. Just like people, not all babies come with the same care instructions. Some need more holding, some need less, some need food, some need more mommy, some need......you get the idea. You don't know what that Mom may have been through in the last 24 hours. If you are going to judge, keep it to yourself, but really you shouldn't judge even silently. Because, you never know who might be thinking YOU aren't doing the right thing with your baby. Personally, I think all of us moms should unite and support one another instead of tearing each other down. And just because someone does something different than the way YOU choose to do it (or will choose to do it) doesn't mean they are wrong or that you are right. There is no wrong or right really. Just different parenting styles and choices. Same goes for Moms who have babies, but don't have toddlers yet. Don't frown at my child having a temper tantrum, while I walk away. You just wait; your angel may one day be doing the same thing to you.

The things you don't know until you buy a house. You don't really know what you are going to have to spend on the house, to make it just "right" until after you are in the middle of the renovation battle. I think it takes YEARS to make a home just right. What furniture works for this house, may not work for the next.

The things you may not know, but hopefully you do: stay at home moms work just as much as working moms. We are not snobs. We are not lazy. We are intelligent, hard working women, just the same as working moms. I never criticize a mom for working. I would like the same back in return. We all try to make the most loving and wise choices when it comes to the care of our children - no matter if we work from home or away from home.

I'm done with my soap box now. Thanks for listening!

2006-05-17T11:19:00.000-05:00

I really am still here.
I didn't abandon the blog. I've just been busy and tired. I don't know if it is the pregnancy or the fact I'm just getting old. But I have been so wiped by the end of the day, or at the beginning of the day, sometimes, I have neglected this little bit of cyberspace.

I've been reading to my son, since he was probably 4 months old. As part of a many stepped bedtime ritual, we would read him 3 stories after a night time bath and before his bottle and bed. Now, of course, when he was 4 months old, we could have been saying gobbleygook to him and he wouldn't have cared. He just enjoyed the sounds of our voices and the funny facial expressions. A few months later and he would stare intensely at the pictures in his books as we would read to him. And a few months later, he was struggling to turn the pages of his books. The hard baby board books were the only ones he could manage, of course. And a few months later, I don't think we could have stopped reading to him if we wanted to do so. He LOVED and cherished this ritual. He still does. And he's 2 1/2 years old now. And, if he could have his wish, we would read books for hours and hours before bedtime. And all day. Just loves it. Even though I felt silly reading to my 4 month old, I see that somehow I really did plant the seed that has grown into its own little plant- thriving with or without our attention, but much prefering our attention. I love books. I love reading. I love learning. I love laughing while reading and crying while reading. I just love reading. And I can't believe that somehow, I might have helped pass this onto my son. I am so proud of him and I can honestly say, hopefully, without too much self - grandizement, I am proud of US, my husband and myself, for having a notion of an idea and sticking with it.

I love Green Eggs and Ham, don't you, Sam-I-Am?

2006-03-29T12:32:00.000-06:00

New Yorker Article
I read this article today and found it thoughtful. I read a lot about religion and it's influences on society, cultures, the world and individuals. I find it endlessly fascinating. I thought some of you might enjoy this article as well.

THE GOD PROJECT
What the science of religion can’t prove.
by H. ALLEN ORR
Issue of 2006-04-03Posted 2006-03-27
Scientists have championed an astonishing variety of views on religion, ranging from the outright hostile to the deeply devout. Even among evolutionary biologists, whose views might seem the most predictable, matters have been surprisingly complex. Richard Dawkins, the author of “The Selfish Gene” and many other popular books on evolution, has in recent years become something of a professional atheist, arguing that “faith is one of the world’s great evils.” The late paleontologist Stephen Jay Gould, on the other hand, argued in his book “Rocks of Ages” that science and religion can and should coexist. Science has its proper domain of activity, religion has its domain, and each must refrain from interfering with the other.
The religious opinions of scientists are, of course, a separate matter from a science of religion. And yet, whatever else religion may be, it’s something that happens in the real world in real time. So why not approach it as a natural process? Why not study it scientifically? This is the task that Daniel Dennett sets for himself in his ambitious new book, “Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon” (Viking; $25.95). Dennett, a philosopher, is steeped in science, especially evolutionary biology, and he has written several books and articles with a Darwinian focus. In the most popular of them, “Darwin’s Dangerous Idea,” Dennett proclaimed that natural selection is “the single best idea anyone has ever had” and argued that Darwinism is a universal theory that helps to explain not only the deep history of life but the twists and turns of human cultural change. Given his enthusiasm for all things evolutionary, and given that he calls himself a “godless philosopher,” you might expect “Breaking the Spell” to be an extended exercise in debunking belief. It is not—at least, not ostensibly. Dennett’s approach to religion is reasonably respectful, though a certain bombast breaks through now and then. Writing for a general audience, Dennett insists that he wants to engage religious readers in a rational discussion, not turn them away.
“Breaking the Spell” ranges widely, perhaps too widely. It surveys the state of religion in contemporary America, considers whether believers are happier or more moral than nonbelievers, discusses the rise of modern nondenominational spirituality, and briefly reviews the purported philosophical proofs for the existence of God. But all these topics have been widely discussed, and Dennett has little new to say about them; his real contribution is an accessible account of what might be called the natural history of religion. (Religion, as he provisionally defines it, involves believing in, and seeking the approval of, a supernatural being.) “There was a time,” he writes, “when there was no religion on this planet, and now there is lots of it. Why?” Why did religion appear in the first place? And why did certain religions spread while others sank into obscurity?
To answer these questions, Dennett says, we must confront two spells. The first is the taboo against asking uncomfortable questions about religion. In his view, religion is simply too important to be spared hard questions. Indeed, he argues, religion is among the most powerful forces on earth and, as religiously inspired warfare and acts of terrorism remind us, it is not always benign. The second spell, in Dennett’s account, is one cast by religion itself. Do we risk dimming religion’s numinous glow by the very act of scientific analysis? Will we, out of what Dennett calls a “pathological excess of curiosity,” rob believers of the deepest and most important part of their lives? Dennett is sensitive to this concern and concedes the danger, but he concludes that the chances of undermining religious sensibility are slight. He assures his readers that one can approach religion as a natural phenomenon without, for example, prejudging the question of God’s existence. Indeed, it is entirely possible that a scientific analysis might reveal religious phenomena that can’t be explained by natural means. Dennett maintains that a scientific study of religion does not exclude the possibility that religious beliefs are true. Whether the results of such a study will provide any support for religion is, of course, another matter.
According to Dennett, the earliest stages of religion were likely characterized by speculations about supernatural or quasi-natural beings. These questions arose out of an aspect of human nature we take for granted: the recognition that the world contains not only other bodies but also other minds. We recognize, in other words, that the world includes “agents,” independent minds that possess their own sets of beliefs and desires. This recognition allows us a wide range of cognitive moves and countermoves presumably unavailable to most other species: “I know he thinks that I have a stone in my hand.” The ability to attribute agency is, Dennett says, almost surely an evolutionary adaptation. It is probably encoded genetically in our species (no one taught you that other minds populate the planet), and it plays a key role in everything from fighting (“He doesn’t know that I dropped the stone”) to seduction (“Would you like to see my cave paintings?”). But its appearance during evolution led to an unexpected possibility: attributing agency where no agent exists. Human beings are skilled at positing agents—whispering winds, turnip ghosts, and monsters under the bed—for which the evidence is less than overwhelming, and this tendency might explain why nearly all peoples talk about creatures like elves and goblins. As Dennett acknowledges, however, this tendency falls short of explaining full-blown religion. Elves are the stuff of superstition, not of belief systems attended by elaborate social strictures, rituals, and theologies.
Explaining the emergence of real religion requires a different kind of approach, and here things get complicated. A mind-boggling number of explanations, some biological and some economic, have been introduced over the past decade or so. One was championed by the evolutionary theorist David Sloan Wilson in his 2002 book, “Darwin’s Cathedral.” Wilson suggested that religion is a kind of adaptation that evolved by “multilevel selection.” Most biologists think that evolution is propelled by natural selection at one level only: among competing individuals. A polar bear that was whiter than its peers, say, could sneak up undetected on potential prey more often than darker bears could, and was thus likelier to survive and leave more progeny. Assuming that the difference between whiter and darker bears was due to a difference in genes, the genes for whiter bears would grow more common and those for darker bears less so.
According to Wilson, though, evolution sometimes involves natural selection among competing groups of individuals. Consider “predator inspection” in guppies. If a potential predator approaches a school of guppies, one or two fish may peel away from the group, inspect the intruder, and then (if their luck holds) return to the school, reporting on the danger. Predator inspection is paradoxical. Why would a guppy take on such a risky assignment? Why be an altruist? Group selection provides a possible answer. Predator inspection might evolve not because inspectors leave more progeny than non-inspectors within a group—traditional individual selection—but because groups that include inspectors survive better than groups that don’t. Although Wilson doesn’t think that all evolution involves group selection, he thinks that group selection plays a big enough role that a realistic theory of evolution must allow for both individual and group selection.
Applying this theory to our own species, Wilson argued that religion is an adaptation of human groups in the same way that the heart is an adaptation of human individuals. Religion is, in his account, a collection of beliefs and behaviors that brings people together, coördinates their activities, and, in the end, allows groups to accomplish tasks that would otherwise be impossible. If my group’s religion is better at this than yours, my group and its religion will spread and yours will recede. Wilson suggested, for instance, that the early Christian Church succeeded against all odds because its creed of selflessness provided its adherents with a sort of welfare state. Christians banded together, aiding each other through illness, famine, and war. The resulting biological edge, he thinks, played a part in the unexpected success of this once obscure mystery cult.
In “Breaking the Spell,” Dennett tentatively proposes another theory that, like Wilson’s, involves natural selection with a twist. Under Wilson’s theory, the beneficiaries of natural selection are groups of human beings. Under Dennett’s, the beneficiaries are religious “memes.” A meme, a term introduced by Richard Dawkins, is any idea or practice—any thought, song, or ritual—that can replicate from one brain to another. When you whistle a jingle from a commercial, it’s because the jingle meme has successfully replicated and now resides in a new brain, yours. According to Dennett, memes let us lift Darwinism from its historical base in biology to the realm of human culture. The meme, he says, may underlie cultural evolution in the same way the gene underlies biological evolution. Just as some genes grow more common and others less common, so some memes grow more common (“You’re fired!”) and others less common (“Is that your final answer?”). Dawkins often thought of memes as mental viruses, selfish parasites on human minds; Dennett, by contrast, emphasizes that they can be benign, or even good for their hosts.
Bringing the nascent science of “memetics” to bear on religion, Dennett goes on to argue that religious memes that encourage group solidarity might outcompete memes that are less adept at encouraging solidarity, especially when human survival depends on coöperation. His reasoning is that the success of a coöperative group is great advertising for that group’s memes. To take a secular example, liberal Western ideas like democracy and free markets might spread not because other nations are persuaded by principled arguments in favor of these ideas but because Western nations survive and prosper, which prompts others to emulate them. If you find it hard to believe that the beneficiaries of religion aren’t human beings but the memes they carry, Dennett asks you to consider what Christians themselves claim to value more than their lives: the Word. “Spreading the Word of God is their summum bonum, and if they are called to forgo having children and grandchildren for the sake of spreading the Word, that is the command they will try hard to obey.” Dennett also argues that you can help a religion grow even if you don’t believe in God. People can become conscious stewards of memes they happen to consider benevolent, and, in the case of religion, the result might be a bloodless “belief in belief.” People who aren’t sure about God may nonetheless be sure that religion is good for society and so encourage its spread.
Finally, Dennett describes a recent theory according to which the spread of religions reflects the action not of Charles Darwin’s natural selection but of Adam Smith’s invisible hand. As the rational-choice theorists Rodney Stark and Roger Finke argued in their book “Acts of Faith” (2000), human beings, when confronted with imperfect information, behave in a way that is generally rational. So if you believe (rightly or wrongly) that there is a God, it can be perfectly rational for you to engage in exchange with this well-heeled partner (even if the commodity you most desire can be delivered only post mortem). Stark and Finke are not, then, so much concerned with why people believe in God as with how believers act and why religious institutions spread. Their key claim is that churches mediate the complex exchanges between mortals and their gods. People go to church, in other words, for much the same reason they hire a real-estate agent: when something important is at stake in a complex transaction, it pays to get professional help.
This theory may explain, as a corollary, why a larger percentage of Americans attend church than do, say, Western Europeans. The reason, according to Stark and Finke, is that Americans enjoy a free market in religion. While we have more than a thousand denominations, Europeans often have centrally planned state religions that put barriers in the way of competition and provide little in the way of diverse religious products. “The American religious economy,” Stark and Finke conclude, “surpasses Adam Smith’s wildest dreams about the creative forces of a free market.”
So what has the science of religion shown? Why did religion appear and why did certain religions spread while others vanished? Surprisingly, Dennett doesn’t claim to know the answers, and he picks no winners among the accounts he surveys, including his own. Scientists, he says, have provided us with a reasonable “family of proto-theories,” but we have little basis for choosing among its members. This conclusion, though disappointing, is, I think, correct. The incipient science of religion faces at least two problems. The first is that some of the theories offered so far, especially the evolutionary ones, invoke processes or entities that are controversial even outside the context of religion. Many evolutionists are skeptical about Wilson’s idea of group selection, for instance, even when considering guppies, much less Jonah and the whale. One reason is that natural selection at the individual level will typically overwhelm selection at the group level: because individuals are born and die faster than groups reproduce or go extinct, evolution will usually move in the direction preferred by individual selection. (The behavior of those guppies can also be explained without group selection, via a theory called reciprocal altruism—a version of “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”)
Similarly, many evolutionary biologists dismiss memes and memetics as little more than pseudoscientific wordplay. For one thing, the analogy between genes and memes is notoriously weak. Genes mutate rarely; memes mutate rapidly. Genes are digital (they’re made of DNA, which is made of four distinct chemicals); memes aren’t. Nor has memetics produced any persuasive explanations of previously unexplained phenomena. Though Dennett maintains that his theory requires only a modest, “sober” version of memes, and though he properly takes to task those enthusiasts who believe that they possess a robust science, his account of religion nonetheless turns on an entity that many scientists don’t believe in. The existence of a God meme is no better established than the existence of God.
Another problem with choosing among the existing theories is empirical, not theoretical. At the moment, we don’t have the data that might allow us to reject one theory and endorse another. The critical question is whether there is hope for progress. Here Dennett seems far too easy on his enterprise. “Breaking the Spell” is rife with claims about the testability of these new theories, and certainly each theory allows some predictions. Stark and Finke’s, in particular, has made, and stood up to, a number of them. But progress will require predictions that are testable in the real world and that also distinguish among the various theories. Just what predictions let us determine whether religion spread by selection among groups of human beings or by selection among the memes these groups happened to carry? Dennett doesn’t say, and it’s hard to imagine what the answer would look like. Near the end of his book, he merely asserts that “getting down to specifics and generating further testable hypotheses is work for the future.” But the origin and diffusion of religion, like the origin and diffusion of music, laughter, and xenophobia, reside in a largely irretrievable evolutionary past. We know virtually nothing about the religion, if any, practiced by our ancestors on the African savanna hundreds of thousands of years ago. It’s far from obvious that explaining unprovable beliefs with unprovable theories constitutes progress.
Even if a science of religion could reach firm conclusions, what would it mean for religion itself? Exactly what would follow for the faithful? At one extreme, the Dawkinses of the world argue that a scientific accounting of the origin and evolution of religious memes should destroy belief. At the other, the Goulds argue that, because science and religion have separate provinces, no proper scientific finding can touch religion.
Neither of these extremes seems tenable. It would be naïve to deny that science can inform, and sometimes challenge, our view of religion. To take a trivial example, perhaps the earliest finding from the natural history of religion was that different peoples appeal to different gods. Any honest Christian or Jew must admit that, had he been born half a world away, he’d be an honest Hindu or Buddhist. This finding suggests at least some adjustment to more innocent views of the inevitability of one’s faith. But believers often seem happy to make these sorts of adjustments and remain perfectly faithful. For some people, the spell cast by religion seems to have less to do with the particular claims made by a particular tradition than with larger metaphysical claims: the universe has a purpose, God exists, or life is sacred. So the more serious question is whether a science of religion—indeed, whether science in general—can undermine these sorts of beliefs.
Science can certainly undermine particular factual claims made by religion (the universe was created in six days), but it’s far less clear that it can challenge religion’s general metaphysical claims (the universe has a purpose). To insist on this distinction is to recognize what it means for something to be a metaphysical, not a physical, claim. What experiment could prove that the universe has no purpose? To suppose that a kind of physics can demolish a kind of metaphysics is to commit what philosophers call a category mistake. Dennett is right to emphasize that his scientific analysis doesn’t require us to prejudge religion’s metaphysical claims, but that’s only half the story. It doesn’t let us post-judge them, either.
This point is connected to a distinction often made by philosophers of science between “methodological naturalism” (science is a set of approaches to the world in which only naturalistic explanations may be considered) and “metaphysical naturalism” (science describes the ultimate state or meaning of the world). As many philosophers and scientists argue, the first approach doesn’t justify the second. Science, they claim, is not in the business of issuing position papers on metaphysics.
It’s remarkably hard to tell if Dennett would agree with that conclusion. Indeed, this is one of the more frustrating aspects of “Breaking the Spell.” To the religious reader, after all, this is probably the only issue that matters. Dennett’s relative neglect of it is particularly surprising given that some of the scholars he discusses are so unequivocal on the subject. Stark and Finke, for example, state that any conclusion about whether religion is true or false is “beyond science.” They simply hope to study “the relationship between human beings and what they experience as divine,” and science, they say, can “examine any aspect of that relationship except its authenticity.”
Dennett’s apparent reluctance to say what can, and cannot, follow logically from a science of religion would seem to be more than mere oversight. Although Dennett takes great pains early in his book to assure his readers that they needn’t question the validity of religion to join in his analysis, it’s clear that he hopes they will ultimately render a judgment. And it’s equally clear what he hopes that judgment will be. (“Many readers . . . will see me as just another liberal professor trying to cajole them out of some of their convictions, and they are dead right about that—that’s what I am and that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”)
None of this is to say that Dennett’s preferred outcome is wrong. Religious beliefs, including those abstract ones having little relation to any particular tradition, may well be mistaken. But it seems clear that any such conclusion must come from someplace other than science. Of course, even if a line can be drawn between physics and metaphysics, it wouldn’t make all our difficulties disappear. Religion is much more than a collection of transcendental and untestable assertions. It’s also a potent social and political force and, like any such force, it is sometimes prone to excess. The result is the usual roster of ills: intolerance, fanaticism, and, yes, terrorism. But it seems doubtful that solutions to these problems will emerge from anyone’s laboratory.

2006-03-28T14:57:00.000-06:00

Tipping Point
What's the tipping point that makes a day become a good day versus a bad day? Ever wonder that? I do. And I think I have the answer and I would like to share it with the 2, maybe 3 readerst that I have out there. I figure it's kinda of a big deal to know this answer, but since, I have a low readership right now, it's not like I'll be exposing the BIG SECRET to the whole world.

Let me give you my two examples. Two different days, back to back, in my life. And I am really hoping this doesn't make me look like I have bipolar disorder. Here goes:

Yesterday, I woke up. Fed my son, clothed my son and did the same for myself. I felt like puking all day (the whole pregnancy morning sickness thing, you know). I took an early morning phone call from my husband and placed a phone call to a friend. My son took a nap much later than normal and I didn't make it to the store to buy food for dinner, thus, we had frozen fish (which I could not eat, because looking at it, smelling it or thinking about it made me want to puke) and baked potatoes and peas. Afterwards, we all piled in the car to go to the grocery store to buy groceries for the week. I had made a list, but my husband wanted to revise the list before we left and after we had already had my son dressed and ready to go. This resulted in the very predictable two -year -old getting impatient scene. My son whining and tugging on my husband's arm as he was checking the list twice over, like Santa Claus resulting in my husband's irritation at my son, resulting in my irritation at my husband and because we try not to fight or argue in front of our child, we kept all of our duly unwieldy emotions properly bottled up - ready to pop later. We get in the car, my husband pops a little sooner than expected resulting in fight in the car, which we are not supposed to do in front of our child. Speaking angrily in whispers - I think my son may be smart enought to sense we were fighting even if we weren't shouting. This scene followed by guilt and recrimanation for having fought in front of our child and sullen pouty silence for the rest of the excursion. Come home, put groceries away. Acknowledge husband's attempt at making up. Husband and son share a bowl of chocolate ice cream, while I indulge in some Yoplait yogurt (it doesn't make me want to puke yet). Try to give son a bath. He screams in terror and doesn't want to take a bath. I think he is afraid he will go down the drain or that the water is really hot molten lava, I'm not sure which. Put son in bed, tuck him in, read stories and nightime songs to him. Kiss him goodnight and go downstairs to collapse on couch in exhaustion, only to get back up and run to the kitchen needing to puke. In bed, myself a few hours later, at midnight.

Today, although not over yet, has gone much better. The morning, not too much different. Made some coffee. Drank half of a cup. Dressed my son and fed him. Puked a little in my mouth, running to the bathroom. Managed to eat a little. Vacuumed my living room. Made some phone calls. Vacuumed my dining room rug. Made some more phone calls. Played trains with my son. Fed him lunch. Put him down for a nap, after reading him some books. Made some dinner preparations for later. Cleaned the kitchen. Organized some business stuff I needed to do for our business. I am having a really good day today. I did accomplish more today than I did yesterday and my day isn't even over yet. Know what the difference was? The tipping point? I drank a half a cup of coffee. Yep. I know. The answer to the universe is wrapped up in a little black bean. It's a miracle.

Please, if I have any readers, I don't know about (in other words, someone other than my handful of friends who read this) don't send me virile criticism emails about how I should not drink coffee while pregnant. I do a lot of dangerous things while pregnant. Want to know what else I do? I eat deli meat. Yep. I sometimes drink coffee and I sometimes eat deli meat. Both are linked to birth defects. I'm playing it risky. I know. So, please don't feel the need to email me and tell me.

Here's to hoping all of you have a good day!

2006-03-19T19:21:00.000-06:00

Just keep swimming.

I have seen all the Pixar movies about oh, as many times as most 2 1/2 year olds who have been watching them over and over again, since they turned one. Because of my son, of course. I find them a bit more enjoyable than the Baby Einstein videos. Not that I don't see the value of the Baby Einstein videos. Oh, I get it. It's just that if you have to watch a movie for a year and a half, which one do you really want to see between these two? Finding Nemo or Baby Galileo (which for those of you who did not jump onto the Baby Einstein Bandwagon, is a video that shows real life clips of stars, the moon, planets and anything else that has to do with space, all played to classical music). I have seen Finding Nemo, probably more than Baby Galileo, so often, in fact that I had never noticed, before today, that the reference, to "just keep swimming" is referenced A LOT in the movie. I thought it was just spoken once by Dori to Marlin when they are swimming into the depths of darkness after the diver goggles. But, it's spoken quite a bit, and because I have the time to count, I did. And I'm wondering if anybody else out there knows the correct answer too? If you do, send me a comment and pitch your best guess. I'm guessing, "just keep swimming" is the overall moral of the story that all us parents are supposed to take away with us. Not bad advice, really. Considering the alternative. Sinking.

I just wanted to also give a shout out to my friend Doc W. Thank-you for the beautiful e-card and the lovely words that totally warmed my heart. I'll pass them onto you all. "Friends give acceptance and love. Be who you are."

Thanks for all the love and acceptance - It's nice knowing I can just be me. It reminds me of a song I saw on (of all things!) Jack's Big Music Show. The chorus is called, "It's good to be me." I like that. It's good to be me.

2006-03-16T21:14:00.000-06:00

BASS
My neighbor likes to play his bass at night and although I would like to post a thoughtful or funny quip tonight, I can't get the strains of Led Zeppelin out of my head, er, living room. It's a bit distracting. It always sounds so charming, to know someone who loves music enough to want to practive all evening and night on their instrument of choice, but it's no peaceful picnic for the neighbors. Most of the time, I don't mind. Most of the time.

2006-03-10T19:56:00.000-06:00

Burps and Peezzzzzz
My son thinks farts are the same thing as burping. So, if he farts or anybody else farts, this tiny high pitched little voice, says, quietly, "burps". I think he says this in lieu of saying, excuse me. He has mastered one polite "good manners" type word. He says "peezzzzz" for please. Burps and Peezzzzz. Mommy's so proud of you!

2006-03-09T20:15:00.001-06:00

MORNING SICKNESS
I found a great cure, albeit temporary, for "morning sickness". I don't know about any of the rest of you pregnant women out there, but I have morning sickness during the following hours: about 45 minutes after I wake up (actual vomiting if I haven't eaten within 15 minutes upon waking) until the moment I am actually asleep and no longer conscious of my stomach woes. Anyway, a few great cures I've found:

1. Eat a little snack about every hour. Don't eat what sounds icky, which includes almost everything that sounded yummy the day before when you went grocery shopping. I know. Perplexing, isn't?

2. Don't drink water. I LOVE water. I should say I LOVED water. But I can't drink it without puking my guts out. I drink milk. I can drink fountain drinks. The bubbles really seem to help. And my new favorite drink, is half grape juice, half diet sierra mist. The sugar from the grape juice seems to mask the gagging flavor of the diet sierra mist and the diet sierra mist gives the grape juice that wonderfully calming bubble effect as well as muting the overpowering taste of the grape juice. I know, perplexing, isn't it?

3. Eat Panchero's Grilled Chicken burritos, black beans and rice, just a little cheese and little sour cream. Pefecto! The one meal I could actually finish and I kept it down! I'm sure by tomorrow, it won't work for me anymore. I don't know why, but all of the food in my house, makes me puke, but if I go out, I'm fine. Definitely perplexing, I know.

4. Have your two - year- old help you make homemade pizza and you will gobble it up just like you did the Panchero's. I know, I just said, I can't eat anything at home, and this sounds contradictory, but I have no other explanation, except that the homemade pizza seems to be the exception to #3. I made the dough. My son spooned on the sauce, splattered the mozzarella and parmesan and then very carefully placed pepperoni over every available spot on the pizza. Not only did this entertain my son, more than his entire room of toys, but it seemed yummier, because it felt like HE MADE IT, not me. Just for those of you who think, I'm insane for letting my two - year - old cook, I would like to point out that I was the one who put it in the overn and took it out of the oven.

Anybody have any milk or grape juice? I'm out of both already. Maybe I need to go back to the store and buy a whole bunch of food that looks good in the store, but makes me puke when I eat it.

2006-02-27T22:09:00.000-06:00

READ Heather Armstrong's latest post on motherhood at Dooce: This is the comment I left on her website in reply to her latest post. She doesn't normally accept comments, but she is on this one.

I have a vivid image of a memory I could not possibly have: myself as a baby, screaming on a blanket on hill with a big black dog named Duke looking after me. I feel Duke was very nuturing. I did not feel this from my mother. I know, because I was told, that as a baby, my mother stayed at home with me. She picked fresh fruit from the orchard at the back of the farmhouse, where my parents rented a farm that my father did farm out. Sounds idylic, but I know we were painfully poor. From my actual memories, I know that long after the days that my mother left me under the care of Duke (she really did do this apparently, leave me for hours outside with Duke "watching over me"), we moved to town. This upwards move from farm dirt poor trash to just plain old small town white trash, meant my mother worked from 2pm - 11pm Wednesday - Sundays. When she was home, she was sleeping in her bed or the couch. I don't remember my mother ever making me breakfast before I headed off to school and of course she was always, at work when I got home from school and I was in bed by the time she got home from work. I felt so much distnance between us and so much fear, because when she was awake in the morning or home on day off evening, she was always angry, bitter and exceedingly tired. I know how tiring it is to raise children, but I didn't feel the love through the tired glaze in her eyes. I don't assume her life was easy, but I regret that she did not make me feel loved or that my presence ever gave her any moment of happiness. I felt myself only as burden, keeping her from sleep, keeping her from doing something other than working, or just plain keeping her. I don't know. I feel so much compassion for mothers, being one myself, but I can't muster up much compassion for my own, even though I am an advocate for all of us struggling out there to make the best parenting decisions we can. I know we all make mistakes, but hope the good love or the good things outweigh our mistakes, but I think with my own mother, there was too few of the good to outweigh the pain of the bad, for either of us. For my own daughter, if I have one ever, I have only a son right now, I would wish her to feel she was given the center she needed to acheive whatever it is she might want to do. A mother, a stay at home mom, a work at home mom, a work away from home mom, or no mom at all. I just wish her to feel nurtured from her mother and I hope she feels that I wanted her with me and that I would be there with open arms if she needed me at 3 months, 3 years or 30 years - old. I would hope she would know that I would never leave her under the care of the family dog, no matter how fantastic of a "watcher" the family dog might be. I would hope she would have the feeling she is cared for more than that.

2006-02-26T20:37:00.000-06:00

Enis, you break my heart with your silence. I cannot believe how much can be said in silence. How much pain. Heath Ledger, you made me cry because I really did believe you were Enis the Cowboy. Thanks, L.A. for taking me to see Brokeback Mountain. Now, that is what good cinema is all about. It made me appreciate the fact that I do not live in a cowboy world, full of ashtrays overflowing with cigarettes. If that isn't the perfect image for this movie- Wow, Ang Lee, overflowing ashtrays is the perfect image for a man so overflowing with pain. I didn't think a man could talk with his lips that tightly held together. It seemed Enis only opened his mouth up long enough to take a drag on a cigarette and occassionally, just like a bad smoker's cough, he would have these enormous emotional outbursts, full of painful, exruciatingly painful rage. When he walked out in front of a truck and the driver yelled at him, and he took his pain out on the driver by taking a swing at him, only leading him to getting his guts kicked in, I really looked at ridiculous outbursts differently. It all stems from pain really. I know I've had my own ridiculously painful outbursts. Now, I haven't taken to swing my fists at anyone, but I've had moments of verbal garbage spewing forth from my mouth before. It always comes from a place of pain, this anger. It made me look at anger a little differently. At least until I left the theater, and I AM NOT KIDDING ABOUT THIS, my friend and I immediately saw a man, wearing a cowboy hat, screaming and throwing insults at a woman in a truck. I am dead serious. And yelling at her once, wasn't enough. I thought he was done being a jackass, until he turned around and started in on her again. I have no idea what precipitated his angry outburst, but I didn't feel as sorry for him, as I did Enis. Go see Brokeback Mountain. It's not just a gay cowboy flick; it is much much more than that. It is a movie, everyone can feel. I know a lot of Enis's in my life. Men walking around in so much pain and repression, with the inability to talk. It makes me feel for them so much more. I know a lot of women walking around in a lot of pain, with their lips tightly sealed shut as well. You'll never want to see another cigarette again after this movie.

2006-02-17T19:50:00.000-06:00

Evolution of Self
I have a friend who seems to be in constant flux. She analyzes herself without any kindness and in the end comes up with the idea she should be kinder to herself. She trys to read others and often picks up on the cues of body language, which is sometimes helpful and sometimes hurtful for her. And sometimes she trys when she shouldn't and she misunderstands. This comes from a place of deep hurt from within her. The abscess doesn't heal and the long ago pain brings disillusionment and mis-trust of herself and others. She thinks the best and worst of people. She thinks the best and worst of herself. She is afraid to be loved and a bit afraid at times, that she doesn't deserve love. She is wonderously gifted with a propensity for communication and sadly, she doesn't allow herself to always express the softer emotions, like, "I love you." She claims anger as her own, from the time she was a pre-teen, quick, alert and aware that there was danger around every corner and from every possible angle. Fists raised, ready to fight. Ready to intimidate, because she had to survive. She still says that this is where her need for confrontation, "let's get this over with" comes from and yet, I have seen her run, when the emotions cut too deep. She is not a coward. She is not an aggressive violent person either. She is not passive. She is not crazy. She is a survivor.

You will continue to survive. You will continue to be strong when you need to and you will continue to search for answers.

My friend, I admire you.

I am sorry we do not always agree; but I do not want you to run from me. Fight me if you must, but I want you to know; I won't stop loving you.

Lisa

2006-02-15T20:06:00.000-06:00

A Good Evening
A good evening for me is having my son, my husband, and close friends gathered around my dining room table for dinner. The food doesn't even have to be fancy. Tonight, we simply had tacos with black beans and rice. But it warms my heart to see L.A.'s daughter eating sour cream off of her fingers. She can't get enough of it. Sour cream or mashed potatoes on the tips of little tiny fingers....it is so adorable. My son picking out the black beans out of the rice and then using his fork to stab the black beans, and then finally eating them one by one, is endearing. My husband pretending to like the black beans and rice, while really the only thing he can think about is how he would rather be eating just the taco with meat and cheese only. A quick fast clean-up of dishes after dinner with everyone helping out. I loaded the dishwasher and washed those dishes that couldn't be squeezed in and L.A. cleaning up the table and my husband drying dishes and even my son, knows what buttons to push to start the dishwasher. And just like every other night, he always helps me take out the recycling. The kids run around after dinner, chasing each other, giggling, fighting off the inevitable tired night crankies. Their last energy thrown into kissing and hugging each other, as if they had just said I do. Can it get any cuter than that? I am so grateful to have all of these wonderful people in my life, giving my evenings such warmth and comfort.

2006-02-09T18:24:00.000-06:00

Wiggles versus the Stones
Did anybody else notice that Mick Jagger looks like one of the Wiggles dancing to "Quack, Quack, Cock-a-doodle-doo"? During the Superbowl, Phrebh and Lamey's daughter was moving her arms as if she were a quacking duck and I glanced over at the tv and saw Mick Jagger doing almost the same thing, except Mick looked really cool, not at all like Greg, Anthony, Jeff or Murray Wiggle. But I could definitely see why a child would think he was one of the Wiggles. Maybe Mick has a future in children's entertainment later down the road. He won't even have to change his moves. At least then, Mick wouldn't have to worry about Superbowl representatives cutting off his mike during sexually explicit lyrics, because as far as I know, "Quack, Quack" doesn't mean anything other than "Quack, Quack". Apparently some of the lyrics in "Rough justice", some word that is a synonym for rooster, was turned down. So, you know, the Wiggles never have to bleep out their "Cock-a-doodle-doo" when they sing their "Quack, Quack" song. And I think the synonym for rooster is a part of that word. I guess a word near the end of "Start Me Up" was muted down too. I'm thinking "Big Red Car" might be safer. Yeah, the more I think about it, the Wiggles and the Stones have a lot in common. Just tweak a few of the lyrics, and a bit of the music and use the same dance moves, and you can't even tell the difference.

2006-02-07T23:30:00.000-06:00

My son played peek-a-boo under the white covers. Then, he asked me, using his sign language, to sing him his favorite songs, "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "Wheels on the Bus". He uses the sign for stars, a good wiggling of the fingers, to ask for "Twinkle, Twinkle". He makes bus noises and waves his hand in a circle, like the wheels of a bus for his second favorite song. He built a fabulous set of tracks for his trains today that covered most of the living room floor. It looked like a tree, asleep from winter, with just it's spine curving up towards what little warmth the sky might deem to give it. I told him, "Oh, honey, that is wonderful! Just wonderful! And you did all by yourself. I'm so proud of you." And he smiled at me that gorgeous wonderful smile. You make my heart burst.

2006-02-07T20:01:00.000-06:00

Menu

Tuesday
Pork chops in Spiced Apple Pan Sauce
Green Beans
Mashed Potatoes

Wednesday
Beef Croquettes
Peas Mashed Potatoes

Thursday
Egg Fried Basmati Rice with Chicken & Shrimp

Friday
Spaghetti with Meat Sauce
Garlic Bread

Saturday
Chicken & Wild Rice Soup
French Loaf

Sunday
Sloppy Joes
Fries
Carrots

2006-02-06T19:58:00.000-06:00

Touchdown!

2006-02-02T19:03:00.000-06:00

Raising Cain
What does a father do when his six-year-old is sad or angry? Does he respond in kind with angry words, does he pretend not to notice, or does he reach out to the son and try to address the underlying problem?...Contrary to some fathers' fears of creating a "crybaby" by coddling an emotional son, a father who accepts and assists his son in distress helps him grow stronger emotionally...These are fathers who will gently help their sons with the hard tasks of growing up rather than try to harden or toughen the boys to match a tough world. In our work with boys, we find that the ones who are most prone to break down when the going gets tough are those who have been raised with the idea that to admit vulnerability, even to themselves is to be weak. -Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys by Dan Kindlon, Ph.D. & Michael Thompson, Ph.D.

Why is it that expressing vulnerability, some emotional response, is a sign of weakness in our culture? For some reason, it is acceptable for women and girls to show vulnerability, but it is not for men and boys. Does this mean that we are teaching our boys that expression of emotion is to be like a girl, who is presumably and acceptably weak? Why is it presumed that girls are weak by nature? I don't think girls are weak and I don't think boys should have to "chin up and take it like a man". I think a little vulnerability shown by all of us, adult or child, regardless of gender, is a good thing. It might validate someone else who feels the same. It might bring us a little empathetic compassion from others. It might bring us happiness and peace with ourselves, if we can be more honest with ourselves and those around us. I'm sure sometimes, it might bring us more pain too. And sometimes, pain can elicit change. And sometimes, after the change, good things can happen. Positive things that can bring us some joy, some spirited life, some peace, some movement forward in our analysis of ourselves and our situations and lives. Change prevents stagnation. I don't want to live in a swamp, with no new life. No new living thing breathing and inspiring new life to breed. I'd much rather live in an ever-changing ecosystem teaming with life. I'm sure there will be neighbors in this eco-system that I am not going to appreciate or like or want to spend lots of time with. But there should be plenty of other neighbors who can add a dimension to my existence that makes it all the better to be alive. How can I ever relate to them with depth, without an expression of emotion or a moment of vulnerability. There is a children's song that my son loves on the channel Noggin, sung by the Laurie Berkner Band called, "I'm not Perfect". In simple language (this is not a direct quote from the song, exactly), like a child, I'd like to say, well, I'm not perfect. I'm just me and that suits me just fine. You're not perfect. You're just you and that suits you just fine. You like apples; I like bananas and we both like oranges. So, let's meet in the Orange Grove once in awhile and the rest of the time, we'll do some different things. Perhaps, we should respect our children more, even if they do like apples instead of bananas and we really wanted them to like bananas because every other little boy in the family likes bananas. There are lots of cool things about apples.

2006-02-01T19:49:00.001-06:00

Vince, not even you can cheer me up
Subdued mood, Wedding Crashers playing in the background and my mood is so subdued, I can't even bring myself to watch it. My husband rented some movies tonight, thus, Wedding Crashers. I'm sure it's a funny movie, but not one I would have picked. Sorry, Vince. I did like you in Dodgeball, although, you were the only one I liked in the movie Dodgeball, come to think of it. I loved ya, Vince, in Swingers, one of my all time favorite movies. I loved you in Old School, although I was a little worried you were starting to get typecasted as the "means well best friend whose emotional IQ is NEGATIVE zero". Same for your role in Mr. & Mrs. Smith, but less "cool" in that one. OH and same in Be Cool, but you were really not cool. In Old School , I laughed out loud through most of it, minus the cheesey Frat Boy ritual scene, with all of those guys with their pants down to their ankles. Vince, I thought your performance in Clay Pigeons was stunning and entirely creepy as it should be. Clay Pigeons, if you haven't seen it at 2am on the IFC, well, take the time to rent it. Great movie. Broke out of your typecast role in that one. Sort of. I guess you are the main characters "friend" in that role too, but the fact that you are a murdering psycho, changes the role a little I guess. And I guess as far as other murderous roles go, I never saw Psycho, the version you were in, anyway, so I can't comment on that one.

Just read a great blog post about Jon Armstrong, for those of you who are fans of his blog, or his wife's blog, Dooce. Check it out. I think Jon Armstrong is actually cuter than Vince Vaughn. But maybe, it's because when I read his interviews and his blogs, I realized that his emotinal IQ seems to be much higher than Vince's, although, I haven't actually read any Vince interviews to base that off of. I'm actually not a fan of Vince's. I can't actually think of any celebrity I'm a fan of, other than maybe Oprah. I really enjoy a person who has more than one dimension to them, you know. Strong empathetic nature from a high emotional IQ, someone who is well-read and enjoys talking about books and authors and the thoughts behind the events and situations in life. And throw in a good dose of physical chemistry and that's a nice well rounded person, right? So, kudos to you Jon, for supporting your wife during her post partum depression and not being afraid to express your love to your daughter and setting an example of a man who is more than just machismo and frat guy jokes.

2006-01-31T21:01:00.000-06:00

OFFER and THOUGHTS FROM UNDERGROUND
We put in an offer on our next fix-n-flip today. Gave them until Thursday. I'm expecting a counter-offer. I don't expect the bank to go for it. It was a foreclosed home. It's in a great area and on almost an acre of park like beauty. The house is an excellent condition; it's just ugly as in 70's decor and coloring ugly. So, we make some aesthetic improvements to suit the price range and market we are targeting and hopefully, flip it quickly. We need our bank's appraiser to appraise it for close to $250,000 (after we were to make the improvements to it, of course - it wouldn't appraise for that as it is now) in order to get enough money from the bank to buy it and make the improvements. We plan on listing it below that price however, for a quicker sell. We have a little negotiating room on the purchase price and still pull off a tidy profit, but not a lot of room. I'll be hitting the listing again soon, regardless if we pull this one in or not. I'd like to be doing a second one and possibly a third at the same time.

In other news, check out thoughts from underground for some beauty. She's writing some amazing intense poetry and her photos are GORGEOUS! She pairs them together and it is truly amazing.

2006-01-30T21:44:00.000-06:00

A BIG THANK-YOU
to jenius.phrebh.com! Thanks for putting me into the AdSense world and giving me ads on my website. Now, I think I might try tinkering with the template soon, so I can reconfigure the ad placements! But it is looking GREAT! Everyone, if you need any help with your blog, or programming issues, etc etc, you really should contact jenius,phrebh.com and hire this man to help you! He's fantastic!

2006-01-29T20:53:00.000-06:00

Fix-n-Flip
I'm gearing up for another round of fixing and flipping some houses. I think I've found the next round and now we just need to nail down all the financial details, so we can get them fixed and ready to be flipped for the Spring buyer market. I would really love to be the flipper who is flipping 60 houses a year, as I've heard another is doing in my area. Once we get possession of some of the homes, I'll start posting some before pics and later post the after pics. It is always amazing, even to me and I've been doing this for awhile, how a house can transform into something totally different. I really love doing this.

2006-01-28T19:32:00.000-06:00

Dinner Menu for the Week
Monday: Macaroni & Extra Cheesiness, Little Smokies & Baked Garlic Broccoli
Tuesday: Chicken Soup & Grilled Cheese
Wednesday: Chicken Enchiladas, Brown Rice with Black Beans
Thursday: Cheeseburgers, Homestyle Fries & Baked Beans
Friday: Chicken Cacciatore, Bakes Potatoes & Green Beans
Saturday: Calamari, Fish-n-Chips
Sunday: Superbowl Potluck with Friends at my house: I think I'm making homemade pizza, Italian Sausage, Ground Beef, Pepperoni.
We serve fruit with every meal.

I typically spend between $100 - $135 on a week's worth of groceries. I've found by planning the menu in advance (thanks to my friend Lamey Amy, whom I stole the idea from) I save money and time. I make one trip for the majority of all the groceries. If I do head back to the grocery store midweek, it is because I ran out of milk. I cannot seem to keep milk in my house no matter how much I buy. My husband and son are Milk Heads. My menus are usually balanced out according to my budget, and to the varying tastes in my household. My husband, son and I do not like the same foods. So, I try to include one meal that I know my husband will like, one meal I know my son will love and one meal that I like. I tend to prefer whole grain, organic, loads of fresh produce type meals with lean meats. My husband likes greasy, completely unhealthy, but very home-comfort yummy foods. My son likes kid foods, thus the macaroni with extra love cheesiness at the beginning of the week. I typically plan the next week's menu the weekend before and shop before Monday. I keep leftover clutter out of my refrigerator by eating leftovers for lunch. I find that leftovers get gobbled up at lunch time, but is
often picked over and pushed around the plate without enthusiasm if I try to make leftovers a dinner meal. Breakfast is typically either cold cereal or hot oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon. Occasionally, we'll do the Midwestern Breakfast of eggs, bacon or sausage, hash browns and pancakes. Not too often. If I have leftovers still in my refrigerator by Monday, they better be Sunday night's dinner only or they get thrown out. I rarely have to throw anything out. The menu eliminates the stress of trying to figure out what to cook and dinner is an hour away. On the days, I know I will have less time to prepare a meal, I pick an easy quick meal. On the days, I know I may have more time, I might try out a new recipe or an old favorite that takes some time.

I thought I'd share some of my menu suggestions and if you feel like having a recipe, let me know and I'll post those for you as well.

Happy planning and eating!

2006-01-27T18:33:00.000-06:00

Boy Killed, Youth Charged in Roulette Game, Washington Post
So, why do we have so many boys ready to put their lives at risk, to appear fearless to their friends? The Washington Post had an article today, describing how a middle school aged boy was killed during a game of Russian Roulette. He was killed by another boy. They had loaded a gun with one bullet and were firing at each other, apparently waiting to see who was going to get shot first. Why do they have this need to appear fearless, emotionless among their peers? Is it really their fault or is it the system, our very own culture, that teaches boys to distance themselves not only from their own emotional needs but from being able to see or recognize or experience any emotion other than anger. Anger or aggression seems to be the only emotional outlet we have given our boys. The gender disparity is within the way we treat boys and how we teach them to handle their emotions. They are not allowed to vocalize or express most emotions, as girls are. Read Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys by Dan Kindlon, Ph.D and Michael Thompson, Ph.D. They discuss in detail and using many case studies how we have neglected to educate, through our schools and as adults in boys' lives, our boys in emotional literacy and how this has and will continue to impact us as a culture. It is great that as a society we have become more attentive to girls and their needs, in the school system and at home. Now, we need to bring as much attention to the needs of boys as well. Let's find out together, where this need for fearlessness and aggression is coming from and let's ACT together to prevent more pain for our boys and those around them, in the future. As a mother of a boy, I feel so much pain for the families of these boys. It is such a tragedy.

2006-01-26T19:50:00.000-06:00

Hello Up.
My son has made a huge leap in the communications field today. He approached me in the kitchen while I was flipping the batter covered chicken in canola oil and stopped in front of me. Normally, this would be followed with whining and screams and other incoherent animal noises, but today he simply smiled and very calmly said, "Hello Up" and reached his arms up to me. My heart melted, because HE'S A GENIUS! I know he may be a bit behind in the speaking arena of toddlerhood, but he made a sentence today! Granted, it is not a sentence one finds themselves using very often, but hello up! It makes sense to me. Hello, pick me up so I can look at that dangerous hot deep pot of oil. Fantastic. I'm so proud. I was able to finally reward him for using words to get what he wanted instead of listening to him use a screaming cloud of whines. And I let him look at the dangerous hot oil giving yummy goodness to our dinner.

2006-01-25T13:51:00.000-06:00

Release the poop from within
Finally, my son, who hasn't pooped for nearly a week, pooped at my friend Lamey Amy's house yesterday. He cried, fussed, moaned and tortured me and all within the listening radius ALL MORNING. He made several trips to the bathroom, only to be overcome by complete panic and he would jump into my arms off the toilet. The look on his face, you would think that he could psychicly see that the BIG NUKES were about to strike Lamey Amy's house. But, no, he is just scared to "release the poop from within". Not only did he proudly flush his poop down the toilet, just as the Lamey Amy household was about to eat lunch, he actually farted and grunted out some additional poop into our own potty at home later that evening and this very morning. Perhaps, he no longer feels that his poop is in fact a nuclear bomb, but is just as it seems, a smelly brown pile of waste product that mommy and everybody else seems to think is the most exciting thing since Johnny and the Sprites came to Playhouse Disney.

2006-01-24T19:08:00.000-06:00

Mother Bear
When did it become imperative in our lives that for survival sake, we must stockpile enough canned goods to last 4-5 weeks, in case of some terrible bird flu pandemic? We need to check with our cities to make sure they have enough chlorine to purify the water, without having the need to receive shipments for more, for about the same duration of time. We need to be in emergency preparedness at all times, in case of terrorism, natural disasters and now because of pandemics that strike the healthy, those with the strong immune systems, between the ages of 20-40 are at the greatest risk from the bird flu. Strange, isn't it? How do I as a conscientious mother wanting to be the strong Mother Bear protecting her cub, prepare for all of this? My need to protect and be safe, seems so much stronger now that I am a parent. I don't remember having all of these concerns before I had a child. These are only the catastrophic concerns. I haven't even mentioned my concerns over my child using a public toilet when we go out to eat at a restaurant, now that he is potty training. Or what school am I going to send him to when he is 5? Or how do we prepare for his college years, assuming that we have a child who wants to go to college? Is he getting enough nutrition? I mean, the kid never really sits and eats what I would consider a meal. Is he empathetic to those around him? Is he too much of a pushover to other's needs? Will he have enough self-esteem to see him through? How much involvement is enough to keep him healthy and safe throughout his childhood and teen years and how much is obtrusive and detrimental? There are so MANY concerns. Who has time for all of these concerns? I want to give the time to THINK through all of these concerns and make the wise good decisions, but I'm beginning to think, we are not given enough time to do all of wise parenting thinking we should do. I hate to think I'm going to screw him up for life, because I chose Pampers over Luvs. Private school versus public. To breastfeed or not. To talk about sex at a young age and educate or overwhelm them when they are too young with information, they don't need? I don't know. Parenting is full of concerns and choices. Where is the DIY network on parenting? With all of the easy do it yourself manuals giving step by step instructions on how to completely raise your child the easy, safe and professionally amatuerish way. WHERE IS THAT BOOK? Better yet, where is that CHANNEL? I don't have time for more books. But if you do, I'm currently reading a good one, I recommend. It's called Raising Cain: Protecting the emotional life of boys.

2006-01-23T20:40:00.000-06:00

Laundry Detergent and Ice Cream
It takes me nearly all day to laundry for my household and just as I was nearing completion mode, a few loads left to hug up off the basement floor, slug into the washer and tug out of the dryer, I saw I was out of laundry detergent. I cannot just quickly pack up ship and run to the store for ONE item. That requires, putting my son's winter jacket on, his hat, making sure he has pull-ups on versus just the around the house underwear and gathering up my purse and keys (which is a feat in and of itself), making sure I am wearing public clothes (come on, moms, you know what I mean!) versus the grungy I'm not leaving the house today sweats and mismatched socks. Warming up the car. Coaxing my son into his car seat. Taking off his jacket to prevent the soon to commence screaming that would occur if I left the jacket on. Watching him kick off his shoes and his hat and settle in for the short drive to the grocery store. Only to put all of this back on once we arrive in the parking lot, so I can take at least the jacket and hat back off again in the grocery store to look for JUST LAUNDRY DETERGENT. I have to bargain, plead and distract my son from seeing the balloons they put RIGHT by the front door! I try to get in and out as quickly as possible, but.....he is two. So, I decided, it was not worth all that when it was only 10 minutes until OPRAH was on, so I stayed put and made a mental note to trade with my husband, sex for a late night trip to the store to pick up laundry detergent and what the heck, how about some chocolate ice cream of some kind. 10 minutes of my time before falling asleep for an hour of non-hecticness in the afternoon. PERFECT.

Did you see Oprah today? She had Part 1 of a 2 part series on Horrible Things that May Happen. Actually that was not the title, but that sums it up. Terrorism and the bird flu. Bird flu is tomorrow and due to an appointment, I'm going to miss it, but trust me, if all I had to do was laundry I WOULD NOT MISS IT! I do want to know what to do in case of an outbreak of the bird flu. Seriously. I do. And I really wonder, did our mothers and fathers have to worry about all of this? Did I really go through my childhood oblivious to all of these THINGS in the world or has the news taken a serious plunge into the SCARY lately?

2006-01-23T20:34:00.000-06:00

Jenius
I just wanted you all to check out the blog of a friend of mine. His website Jenius is for those of you who are of HIGH intellect and LOW humor. No, just kidding, Jenius. I love your blog. And it is written by a certified GENIUS. So, better your brains and go check it out.

2006-01-22T21:50:00.000-06:00

New to the Blog
Perhaps, because I am new to the blog phenomenon, there is still much for me to learn. I have been trying to do some research on how I can get some advertising on my websites. I saw something on blogger called AdSense, and I thought I had it set up, but I still can't seem to get anything going when I view my blog. So, although, my research has only just begun, I thought perhaps, if I have any viewing audience who has a helpful heart, can you tell me what I need to do, in "common" language. I get overwhelmed by all the lingo sometimes.

2006-01-21T21:17:00.000-06:00

My Favorite Things...
the smell of my son, Gus
laughing children
dogs running
pumkin pie
reading a good book
coffee
sharing hot tea with a friend
writing about anything
browsing bookstores
finding a "used bookstore" I've never been to before
people watching
sitting in my backyard
fall leaves and fall smells
being with my friends and family
watching old movies
going to the theatre
looking at old photos
my husband's grilled ANYTHING, he is the master of the grill
vintage items remade into something useful and beautiful
thanksgiving
taking a nap
lists
walks on a summer night
cooking a new recipe
cooking an old favorite recipe
the Oprah show
shakespeare on the green
poetry read out loud
an email or letter from a friend you haven't heard from in ages
my son's smile
making someone else smile
prettily wrapped gifts
freshly painted walls
an icy pond
wooded trails
great love stories
designing a cozy room
nursery decor
popcorn, lotsa salt
traveling to new places
visiting old familiar places
Chicago style hot dogs
spring
lilacs
shasta white daisies
fresh herbs from the garden
organic produce
sipping hot cider while standing outside on a cold fall day
toasting marshmallows and making smores
baking with my son
smell of onions sauteeing
Biaggi's blue cheese dressing on a wedge of iceberg lettuce salad
smell of clean laundry hung on a line
the feel of cool grass on a hot summer day on my bare feet
staying up late and giggling over silliness with friends
sexy dreams
clean sheets
ice cold sun tea
the moon peaking out behind the clouds
reading over my list of favorite things.

2006-01-21T13:38:00.000-06:00

Lamey Amy & Piece a Lisa
Amy, my nearest and very dear friend, called me a week ago or so and asked me to meet her at Barnes and Noble for some hot tea to soothe our beleagured cold-ridden heads and to comfort my sad heart. I thought for sure I was pregnant, but then I started bleeding and it made me wonder how I could have all the tell-tale symptoms and then, a very very late period. Was it an early miscarriage? Did I drink too much caffeine as the March of Dimes website suggests, and this induced an early miscarriage or was my period just very late? I don't know. But I was sad either way. After we had drank our venti decaf hot teas and shared a brownie and a piece of pumpkin cheesecake, we decided to hit the aisles. One of my favorite things to do, browse bookstores. We stumbled across a fab book with all the reasons why not to name your child these names. We looked up our own names. Amy is doomed to forever be called by the nickname: Lamey Amy and my poor moniker was given the teased out "piece a Lisa". Nice. Very nice. I laughed so hard. Thanks Lamey Amy for bringing a smile back to "piece a Lisa".

2006-01-20T20:51:00.000-06:00

Friday, January 20, 2006
He's two.
He thinks dancing is spinning in circles until you fall. He's two. I've been reading him these baby sign language books ever since my pediatrician told me it relieved toddler frustration when they had not yet learned to verbalize their needs well. I was pleased as punch the day he made the sign for "cereal" even though he thinks it means "more". More was on the opposing page next to cereal in the sign language book. He's two.
He's two. He likes to watch his best friend and compatriot in evil toddler acts, I'll call her Air for short, dip her fingers in mashed potatoes and try to stick it in HIS eyes, or shoulders or whatever she can reach. It makes him laugh hysterically and he forgets to eat his dinner. He's two.
He's two. He refuses to poop in his diapers anymore, even though I am encouraging him to do so, because I left his potty seat at Air's house and his poor skinny little bottom would fall right into the toilet without it.
He's two. He refuses to poop at all while Daddy is away on business. Wow. Those long trips are a real consternation to me and constipation to him.
He's two. He loves his Bear Bear more than cookies.
He's two. He loves the Wiggles, Charlie and Lola anything Baby Einstein.
He's two. He still likes to sleep on my belly sometimes, when he's overtired and there ain't no other comfortable pillow in sight.
Your the love of my life, Little Man.

2005-11-04T22:13:00.000-06:00

As you can see, I have my work cut out for me; LEAVES LEAVES everywhere!

2005-11-04T22:12:00.000-06:00

Broom, My son uses it to help me rake the leaves

2005-11-04T22:10:00.000-06:00

The Vacated Spot near my front stoop, where Pumpkin once lived....

2005-11-04T22:08:00.000-06:00

Smashed Pumpkin Pays the Price for Our Troubled Youth

2005-11-04T14:34:00.000-06:00

EVER SO SMASHED PUMPKINS

I decided to expand my blog to include other topics besides fixing and flipping, although, I'm sure there will be plenty of info on fixing and flipping and other rehab/real estate adventures in this blog, but that is not the only thing on my mind. And as this blog is a work in progress, might as well blog about all sorts of things.

The latest going on in my life is that both of my cars were burglarized last night, probably before I even went to bed. So, while I was watching "Wayne's World 2" on TBS last night, eating chips with queso, three prepubescent kids were stealing my 2 year-old's dvd player out of my car. How disappointed do you think they were when they played it later only to see The Wiggles (Greg, Anthony, Murray and Jeff are ever so hot among the toddler scene)? Actually, as I found out later in the morning, the kids were caught in the act two houses down. Apparently, they were hitting up the whole neighborhood. I am most devastated by the destruction of the absolute PERFECT pumpkin that I had on my front stoop. It was such a beautiful pumpkin, and it's lustrous decorative appeal was cut short on the hood of my husband's malibu. It's guts spilling out onto the road in front of my house. And because this is how enraged I was upon the scene of my mutilated pumpkin, as I was raking leaves in my front yard this morning (and my son also tryed to "sweep" leaves with a toy broom), I contemplated the act of cleaning up the pumpkin at the front of my house. I contemplated the act of cleaning up the pumpkin. Why? It's not a PERSON - but somehow I couldn't bring myself to clean up the pumpkin, leaving it out there as a painful reminder to myself and the whole neighborhood that YES we chose to live in a neighborhood where children destroy pumpkins and steal electronic goods from cars. It made me realize, I AM AN ADULT. Because if I were a prebuscent teen, I would think smashing a pumpkin was funny. Now, what am I going to put on my front stoop as a welcoming pleasing to the eye decoration?

The pics are of the smashed pumpkin, the chair the pumpkin once resided on beside my front stoop, the broom my son tried to help me rake the leaves up with and did you notice that I have quite a bit of raking to do.....check out my backyard!

2005-10-25T10:18:00.000-05:00

Some Essentials for Fixing and Flipping for Profit

Get yourself a great realtor.

This may take time. The first realtor who stumbles into your life may not be the best realtor or more importantly the best realtor for you. The first couple of realtors I worked with were not suited for what I needed out of them. I know you think you can sell your house yourself, but I don't recommend it. Unless you are in a seller's market, where buyers are beating down the door of every house up for sale, I WOULD NOT RECOMMEND GOING SOLO. First of all, realtors take care of all the hard work involved in selling your home. Assuming you have caught yourself a winner, your Realtor will know who to network with to get your house sold, will have a broker on hand to tidy up all the appropriate legalities involved in selling it and will pay for all the ads and various techniques used to sell a home. And if something isn't working, they can try a new tactic and probably know what will work. They are also a great resource for finding out what little cost improvements can be done to improve a potential buyer's first impression. Plus, I know this from experience, a person walking through an open house hosted by a realtor will tell the realtor what he or she thinks and this can help with the next open house or showing. Knowledge of what people who are not biased towards your project (and investment) is helpful. They will not tell you. They will rarely tell you. It makes them uncomfortable to have the seller there as they walk through your house.

Get yourself some investment money and/or some investors who want to give you their money.

Expect to break even or worse on your first flipper. This is a learning process. Experience will give you intuition that is a much better book of knowledge than any book on the topic can give you. Consider it a practice run. Don't beat yourself up about it and move on. I did not lose money on my first flipper, but I did expect to break even. I was pleasantly surprised when I made a little bit of money. I didn't make a lot, because I made a lot of mistakes as well, but I did make some money. Your market will determine where you fall on the board in this area.

Hire good contractors, not your brother-in-law.

I'm not talking about painting the interior, although, if you have the budget for it, hire out that too. The more labor you hire out, the quicker the project will be flipped and back on the market. Many flippers think they are doing everything themselves and this will make them more money. So what could have taken you four weeks to do, now is an 8 month titanic eating away at all your profit. The longer you sit on it, the more the bills pile up in utilities if nothing else, or a mortgage if you took out a loan instead of using investors. But most importantly, if you are a beginner flipper, the longer you sit on it, the less money you are making because it is taking resources away from flipping more houses. Quantity might be more important here. The more houses you flip in a year, the more money you make.

Location, Location, Location

You can fix and flip a house in a great location, if you bought it at the right price and stayed within your budget. You can sell a house in an okay location and even in a questionable, but not terrible location. It is nearly impossible for even the best realtor to sell a house in a bad location. Nobody will want to spend even a below market price for a house that looks better than all the other houses in that price range, if it is in a bad location. They will either pay more for a better location or pay less for a fixer upper in a good location. This is a commandment, Thou Shall not Flip a House in a Bad Location. I did this once. I learned. Never again.

RESEARCH everything ahead of time, before you make that offer.

Research the market, the appraiser reports with the city of that style of house, with that kind of square footage, in that neighborhood. Be smart. Knowledge is important. On the other hand, don't take forever in your decision making process or someone like me who has played the game just a little bit longer will beat you to the house. It's happened to me. I've taken to long and another more experienced flipper has beat me to a great deal And I have done the same to others. However, having said that, there will always be houses to buy, so don't get all in a panic. Give yourself room to THINK and breathe, before you get all ajumbly and start writing that check for the earnest money.

Look at houses EVERYWHERE.

I go to as many open houses as I can and guage other people's reactions to them and I eye the listings and see what houses were on the market and how quickly they sold. I make a note as to why I think they did or did not sell quickly. This is like practice, but without your money or your investors' money being involved. Watch homes as they pop up and sell. Walk through them. Especially make note of any flippers, you might stumble across. You might be surprised by how many people dabble in this. I like to see what others are doing in my field.

Have patience with your realtor and let him or her do their job and have patience with yourself as you are learning how to do this. Having said that, I've had to be a master negotiator with some contractors who may give low bids, but turn out to be low in the motivation department as well. Don't go with the lowest bid. Go with the reliable contractor. When you get stuck with a slow mover, assess the situation, make sure they really aren't putting forth the effort they should and be very tactful, but professional about motivating them. Sometimes, this means you should have set a DATE and written up a contract on WHEN the project was to be wrapped up, or they don't get their last payment. I had to do this once. It can be done, with some really great negotiating skills, so as to NOT tick them off and make them leave the worksite never to come back. Compromise some, but be firm when it comes to your TIMELINE. In other words, if they told you they would be done the last weekend of September and it is now the end of October, you have been patient long enough. Get a contract signed and politely, but firmly isist on this being the final deadline or they will not pay their last payment. And DO NOT pay them in full before they do the work. DO NOT. Most people are hardworkers and great people to have working for you, but some people need the motivation of getting paid to work. Don't we all?

2005-10-24T23:59:00.000-05:00

Here is a current fix and flip we have on the market. I'm looking for the before photos so you all can be stunned.... stay tuned for those!

2005-10-24T23:01:00.000-05:00

I thought a little introductory post might be a good way to break the ice. So, sit back with your favorite beverage, mine tonight is some Pinot Grigio, and have a little look-see into how I got into the business of fixing and flipping homes for profit.

Once upon a time, I was busting my bottom for a man who owned his own business. I came across this job, at a moment in which fear dominated my life. When I interviewed, it was only a week after my wedding and just a little more than a week after my husband had been given a 50% pay cut, which was supposed to be manna from heaven, the majority of the other employees lost their jobs. We had just bought our first home, a couple months before and had mortgage payments bigger than the both of us, looming over our heads. Our car broke down on the way to our honeymoon site and we just decided to pull the emergency brakes and turn tale and haul our behinds back home, so I could look for a job and my husband could also look for a better paying job. It never occured to us, to do anything but look for jobs. That's what you do to make money, right? You look for a job.

I interviewed at three places and had job offers at three places. I chose the locally owned retail business for a whopping $8/hour. Wow. Gonna make the big bucks, wasn't I? I learned alot about working with people of varying personalities. Some curt, some generous of spirit, some calm, some neurotic and hey, that was only me. No, really, I worked with a wide range of personalities and some of them were a real joy to be around and uplifted my spirit and some of them, were plain nasty. And that isn't even touching all the personalities you deal with when you work in customer service or with the public. Come on, you know! All those customer service workers out there, you know how difficult that train wreck can be! Anyway, I learned to hone my skills of listening, being intuitive and drawing people out to learn what they really wanted or needed from me. I valued the lessons I learned there and I even walked away from the experience with a very good friend. However, I also learned a painful lesson. The security in the mind numbing boring monotonous job, is not worth the mind numbing boredom and monotony of working that job, nor can you predict when The Man you are helping make money for, will suddenly decide you are no longer of profitable value to him and his company. Especially, if after a few years, you tap out the maximum pay they want to pay out to the menial bottom rung of the ladder individual that I was and to top it all off he is facing the decision of having to pay someone else to do your job, while you take a six week maternity leave. OUCH. Yes, that must be a tough for The Man. Better to fire her now, well, before that baby comes.

Sinking into a financial depression, I forced myself to ignore my emotional depression (you know, the usual that losing your job does to you: loss of identity, loss of valuability, and just at a plain loss) and forced myself, huge belly protruding and all to get back out there and find a job. It will be a great job. It could be less than a great job. It really could just be a job. It could be a really crappy job, as long as it gives me some money, so I don't have to make the decision between buying my dogs their dog food and buying myself something to eat. Yeah, but, here's the problem, Ms. You were fired AND you're pregnant. Oops. Now, I didn't say that last part out loud did I? No. You were fired and there are plenty of other people all struggling to grab the same lousy job I'm offering, so I don't really need to be bothered to find out if The Man might have had a reason to fire you OR NOT. Yeah, after a few months, when my baby was almost here, I gave up the job interview circuit and saved money on gas.

My husband and I had come up with a plan. We were going to buy a house, a foreclosed house to boot (something that almost could have happened to us, considering our current situation) and fix it up and re-sell it for more money. That money, we reasoned, might one day, replace what I was making while working to put money into The Man's bank account. It just might work. It just might work. What do we have to lose? We're selling our beautiful house, we gave away my beloved dogs and have sold off numerous possessions on ebay, just to pay the bills, so what do we have to lose now? Let's play a little poker and see what else the cards hold for us.

I went from a house where the details all around me, from the woodwork to the hardware, was stunning, to a small 2 bedroom apartment that always smelled like the 77 year-old chain smoking landlady's ashtray. And although, I no longer live in my beautiful house, nor do I live in that dismal 2 bedroom apartment (thank the heavens!), I often look back at the beauty my homebuyer purchase had. The banister and the hinge at the top of this page was from my Queen Anne Victorian beauty. I've seen many, many homes since then. This website, is going to be the chronicle of my fix and flip experiences. Check back often and see what we are flipping!