Saturday, June 28, 2008

Music Geek

It's proven.

On a walk with Lucy and Rowan, we met a new dog. I asked her name.

"Joplin, her name's Joplin," her mom said.

"OH! How cool! Joplin, like Scott Joplin, the famous ragtime composer who wrote the Maple Leaf Rag!" I said, happily scratching the little mutt behind the ears.

There was some uncomfortable silence. Then I looked up, noting Joplin's mom's long hair, broomstick skirt, tank top, and earth shoes.

"Oh. Or like Janis Joplin."

"Yeah. I've never heard of the other guy," she answered.

"Well? If it weren't for Scott, Rock 'n' Roll probably would have never existed!" I cried, desperately trying to backpedal.

This is why I will never be one of the cool kids.

The Sun shines out his...

I am very proud of my husband. Read here to see what he's been up to lately.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Groovy Girl

Checking up on my blogs today, I listened to a tune Vivi had posted. While it was playing, Rowan started to dance. I grabbed my phone to record her in action, and after a second or two of staring at me, she again caught the groove, and started to "sing" along.

She loves to dance, with or without help, and will groove to anything from the Brandenberg Concerti to AC/DC to French pseudo-Zydeco to commercials and cell-phone ringtones. We played it again and two-stepped around the room. She tired herself out so much, she's down for a nap.

*Note: I proved what a geek I am in that I just spent five minutes trying to decide if it should be 'concertos' or 'concerti'. I went with the Italian, but do also have a good argument for the English version.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008


More soon, but this is from our visit with her cousin of sorts (my first cousin's daughter) in Hershey, PA. I'll get more on the ball soon and get my photos uploaded, but here's a clip. Rowan was determined to give Lilia kisses, and spent the first half hour trying to do just that.

Thursday, June 19, 2008


Rowan and I spent two lovely weeks visiting family back in North Dakota (doncha know), while Dr. B toiled away here, sneaking back for a quick 1-day visit. While I was gone, he kept me updated by phone with what was going on and lots of "how do you..." questions. Basically, he was bored and not eating very well, so he did projects around the house. "It's really a mess around here," he said one night, "I need to straighten up. I leave a lot of crap around when you're not here to pick up or yell at me and when I don't have to worry about Rowan." He promised to pick up and even vacuum for me before I got home, something I had wanted to do before we left but hadn't had the chance until she was asleep (and then didn't want to take a chance on waking her).

We arrived late, collapsing on the sofa (Rowan in the crib) and ignored the house the next day while we celebrated Father's Day. Then Monday came, and I began the big clean-up. I cleaned both bathrooms, mopped the floors (twice, because they were really bad--it had been a while), cleaned the kitchen and started the laundry. I vacuumed the entire house, emptying the canister several times, and put away clothes and various other junk we brought with us.

Dr. B came home.

"Wow! The floor looks... like a floor!" He said. "And the bathroom sink! How did you get it so shiny?"
"I cleaned it. That's what soap does. It leaves a film."
"Is that why you clean it so often?"
"Yeah, that would be why."
"Huh. Well. Um, I don't have any pants for tomorrow. Or underwear. Except the ones I don't like. The skeevy ones."
"Did you do any laundry while I was gone?"

He paused.

"Yes!" he said, with a big grin. "I washed some towels!"

I guess he does need me.

Monday, June 16, 2008


We're back. The trip was great, and we had an awesome time with family and friends. We survived a very long day of traveling that went surprisingly well, considering the horrid situation (an hour of driving, four airports, three flights with a baby, arriving home at 11PM). Prayers were said faithfully as we taxied down the runway, and Mom/Grandma Judeen intervened, including good baby behavior for most of the flights (save a bit of crying during #2 when she was too tired to function.) Though I got stuck in the very back of the plane in front of the stinky bathroom and penned in by the college student who was way too cool to even acknowledge our existence (I hope she gives birth to triplets with colic who turn into ungrateful teenagers and no one gives her any help EVER), Rowan was a doll and played happily with the window shade, safety cards, airplane magazines, and barf bags and I managed to keep her from pulling the hat off the guy in front of us (I should have let her--jerk put his seat back, leaving me with exactly 3 centimeters of breathing room--breathing the stale air and odorific air-toilet stank). But we made it home, she went to bed, and I consumed mucho chocolate and a glass of wine and caught up with Dr. B. Father's day was spent recovering, and today I've been busy cleaning, doing laundry, and thinking about going grocery shopping. Admittedly, there's a looooooong way to go, but at least I've made a dent. Two weeks away leaves a lot of things undone, and it's not like I left the place spotless and in perfect order when we went. But I'll get to it.

Rowan is still down for a nap, which was much needed, and I've been surfing so as not to wake her (and because I was tired. I did 2 bathrooms, 3 loads of laundry, and cleaned the kitchen this morning, and then made and cleaned up lunch from the empty cupboards when Dr. B biked home to join us.) She had a bit of a meltdown prior, after being scolded for unrolling a full roll of TP, and sobbed and hiccuped herself to sleep in my arms. So, I've been catching up on my reading. Apologies to all my blog buddies--I skimmed. I had over 3500 entries to read. I just couldn't face it. If something really, really important happened in your life that you want me to know about, please email me. I may have missed it.

And now I need to comb my hair for the trip to the store that's quite necessary.

And of course, now the thunderstorm hits. Guess Mom's busy elsewhere. Sigh.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

A tender moment with a 7 year old.

Aunt LaR: "We're sure going to miss you guys when you leave tomorrow."

Cousin #2 of 4: "Yeah, me too. Especially Rowan."

He sighs and looks wistfully around the room. I smile, expecting a hug, or a nice statement about how great his new cousin is, or maybe even both. A pained look crosses his face.

"Who farted?"
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