tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67487722024-03-07T03:50:08.009-05:00And Then I Stepped in Gum . . .Blog for Jennifer Morgan, freelance editor, work-at-home mom, avid reader, obsessed knitter, and woman who often has a lot to sayJennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.comBlogger161125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-38520640622400572472007-04-19T14:23:00.000-04:002007-04-19T15:00:54.966-04:00Resurrection and RenaissanceHey! Look! Two posts from me in two days! I'd like to keep up the momentum. It helps that one of my best friends was inspired to call me after my last post. It's nice to know that <span style="font-style:italic;">someone</span> still wants to read what I write.<br /><br />I've been spending a lot of time pondering the intent of this blog. My blog reading has shifted quite a bit recently, lining up with my favorite obsession -- knitting. The deeper I get into that, the more I want to contribute to the world of knitting blogs out there. What a great way to keep track of my progress and growth as a knitter, and to share with others the artistic work I am most proud of these days. Not to mention, it's a good way to hold myself accountable about the number of projects I'm working on at one time.<br /><br />Yet I still like to write about my kids and funny anecdotes from my life. I can keep in touch with my friends and family this way, as well as document things from Ian and Katie's childhood. I don't think I'm prolific enough to support two blogs, so I'm afraid I'm going to integrate both types of content and hope that whoever finds/reads this blog enjoys whatever I have to say. We'll just have to see how it goes.<br /><br />So keeping in mind the goal of adding a bit more knitting content to the blog, I'll add a few pictures of recent FOs (finished objects -- unfinished objects are UFOs, you know):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSze4dDhJFAAa3y_-6mx9AEA4hKrXUcNIpKCfkJjVrMT1tAXXi4a1Ik4C_jdACWnPYgZ2Q0Z0hJypW3NM6ElTS8wj0aViBxp4rBWR3NVKZsJUbHwJeEwzZNa8ZLVMhDe87_m9tAQ/s1600-h/March+2007027.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSze4dDhJFAAa3y_-6mx9AEA4hKrXUcNIpKCfkJjVrMT1tAXXi4a1Ik4C_jdACWnPYgZ2Q0Z0hJypW3NM6ElTS8wj0aViBxp4rBWR3NVKZsJUbHwJeEwzZNa8ZLVMhDe87_m9tAQ/s320/March+2007027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055211692319921778" /></a>Sarah's socks -- yarn: Cherry Tree Hill (can't remember the colorway), needles: size 1 (eeks, size 1 needles take a long time), pattern: from Sensational Knitted Socks, my sock bible. My sister-in-law's favorite color is maroon, and my mom and I hunted all over the New York Sheep and Wool Festival to find maroon yarn. This is as close as we got. I like how they turned out, but was surprised that the two socks came out with different stripe widths and slightly different color balances (all the yarn came from one skein).<br /><br><br><br><br><br><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAY99I9XiZF2Xy5_Fu3nW2L7UI0erG-MwiwM9gDkEw5SN1ElJKT293_VB5RjfWY_3i0ox-1czYKYNV4Kw4jU1AbUMB53iozim0sn2Gih5kLrHPTA6-XxNhbITf5LNpZt-dzRe8w/s1600-h/March+2007028.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJAY99I9XiZF2Xy5_Fu3nW2L7UI0erG-MwiwM9gDkEw5SN1ElJKT293_VB5RjfWY_3i0ox-1czYKYNV4Kw4jU1AbUMB53iozim0sn2Gih5kLrHPTA6-XxNhbITf5LNpZt-dzRe8w/s320/March+2007028.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055211705204823682" /></a>Dad's socks -- yarn: wool, can't remember the name right now, but came from Jo-Ann, pattern: boring, normal sock pattern -- Dad's request -- but I added a little bit of self-designed monogram (D squared) to them. He likes them, even though it took forever for me to get them to him.<br /><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLKBZkQ7al3YTQO2j63yoSa9y0GJvRuDS1WlcVzgUjrEnyJXE3gT1No2QwjCHgxpYSb-I734eVhF3mPshFDQRov7ecysKl0wfola9pNBr_li4MxYRAbXgm8Ld1Hm9lwYc9dLNHQ/s1600-h/March+2007039.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLKBZkQ7al3YTQO2j63yoSa9y0GJvRuDS1WlcVzgUjrEnyJXE3gT1No2QwjCHgxpYSb-I734eVhF3mPshFDQRov7ecysKl0wfola9pNBr_li4MxYRAbXgm8Ld1Hm9lwYc9dLNHQ/s320/March+2007039.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055211709499790994" /></a>Jason's sweater -- I have a new(ish) baby nephew (3 weeks old now), and I was so excited to knit this sweater for him from Oh My! yarn. It's incredibly soft and gorgeous, as well as machine washable. And I was really pleased with how it turned out. Baby sweaters are the most fun to knit -- lots of different things to keep your interest, and they're finished quickly!<br /><br><br><br><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhDiy8AIoyCmf5pqEgDik7cz0w3knWcMPV6jLpQXe93RCwtnwm2nZRehDj-vcEskM1ssV_s12w_83sQv65c_z0u7E_4BG6MINcijc929JNRNjXCgz8hXPjL4qotsU2Iv70w2iSQ/s1600-h/April+2007+pics069.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhDiy8AIoyCmf5pqEgDik7cz0w3knWcMPV6jLpQXe93RCwtnwm2nZRehDj-vcEskM1ssV_s12w_83sQv65c_z0u7E_4BG6MINcijc929JNRNjXCgz8hXPjL4qotsU2Iv70w2iSQ/s320/April+2007+pics069.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055210438189471330" /></a>Katie's sweater -- yarn: Plymouth Fantasy (100% mercerized cotton), pink -- her choice, pattern: <a href="http://www.magknits.com/Mar07/patterns/berry.htm">Very Berry T-shirt</a> from MagKnits.com. A nice spring/summer knit, and she loves it. I think it will be easy to adapt the pattern to a size for an American Girl doll, and I may try to do that with the leftover yarn. I wish I could have found a little bit lighter weight yarn at my LYS, but they really didn't have anything else that would have worked.<br /><br />There. Hope that wasn't too boring. Stay tuned for more current work, and I'll try to throw in interesting thoughts here and there too.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-46274230786944520632007-04-18T15:22:00.000-04:002007-04-18T15:35:08.617-04:00Must . . . Fight . . . Instincts . . .(Yeah, yeah, I know I haven't posted in forever. More meta blog talk another time. The following was too good not to blog it.)<br /><br />So. My family of origin has a little . . . quirk, if you will. We all like to be right. All the time. And if we think we're right, and someone else is not, we find correcting that someone completely irresistible. They don't even actually have to be in the room -- we have been known to correct people on TV, writers in the newspaper, etc. Of course, we mostly correct each other. And to a non-Dockstader, that can get a little, well, irritating when the nitpicking really gets going.<br /><br />Ever since I married the unflappable, nonconfrontational Dave, I have been pulling away a little bit from the need to prove that I am 100% right all the time. (Dave would say, a very little bit.) I try to let things slide a little bit more. And with distance, I am able to see the irritating side of this trait. Really, I am. It doesn't always stop me from engaging, but I do try.<br /><br />So I've been frustrated lately that Katie and Ian are beginning to correct each other (and us) to an extreme, about things that just. Don't. Matter. It flows mostly from Katie to Ian, or Katie to us, but they are both taking part, and it leads to pointless bickering that grates on me to no end. The other morning, I had a serious talk with them about the need to learn to let things go, to not correct every single, little, niggling thing that anyone else says or does. I suggested that we should make a chart and hang it on the refrigerator, and mark it down every time someone in the family corrects someone else needlessly -- the point being that I want them to recognize how often the behavior happens, so that they'll understand what I'm trying to say.<br /><br />This afternoon, I found that Katie has already taken it upon herself to draw up the chart. Here is a picture of it:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlC_BfGo7nuaOujqS6aCpTsJ3N5C_4rnS8CPjm6nC4u2cMiAryTQD9Qz50O83kWdHUqNv5OkV-8AVSkHfoyUU-FTwGEda06ukP10HExT0lx8RMPcaZEjih2jj_c77H1V-FQPp5sw/s1600-h/DSC00664.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlC_BfGo7nuaOujqS6aCpTsJ3N5C_4rnS8CPjm6nC4u2cMiAryTQD9Qz50O83kWdHUqNv5OkV-8AVSkHfoyUU-FTwGEda06ukP10HExT0lx8RMPcaZEjih2jj_c77H1V-FQPp5sw/s320/DSC00664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054853632177725090" border="0" /></a><br /><br />10 points for anyone who can fully grasp the existential dilemma I am currently facing.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1166316067855977382006-12-16T19:32:00.000-05:002006-12-16T19:46:41.676-05:00I'm a Believer!Last night I sewed together the front, back, and sleeves for Ian' sweater (Katie's sweater is on the agenda for tonight; the picture -- for which the sweaters are being knitted -- is scheduled for noon tomorrow). After putting both sleeves on, I realized that I had sewn them in slightly differently on the front, and it was obvious. OK, just cut the yarn sewing the sleeve to the front on one side, pull it out, and resew. Simple, right?<br /><br />Well, it would be, if you didn't miss the sewing yarn and cut the yarn at the edge of the front, thereby mysteriously unraveling four rows and leaving a hole in the piece about 1.5 x 2 inches. EEKS! I managed to kludge together a reknitted section, and it doesn't look too terribly bad, but I alternated between panic attacks and tantrums for a good 45 minutes there.<br /><br />Anyway, I got it done, and the cute pewter celtic knot buttons sewn on, and tried it on Ian. It fits, just. I swear the boy has the arms of a monkey! But then, this afternoon, I discovered the magic ingredient: BLOCKING!<br /><br />Oh, sure, I've heard of blocking sweaters. And the instructions did say to block the pieces before making up the sweater. But I thought blocking 100% cotton wouldn't accomplish much, so I skipped it. And it turned out okay. But then I started to sew Katie's sweater together, and the lengths of the front and back didn't quite match, so I looked up how to block a sweater, and decided to give it a try.<br /><br />I started with Ian's sweater, to see if I could get the armholes to relax a little bit -- they seemed kind of lumpy and crowded. I plugged in my new iron and steamed and steamed and steamed -- and behold, the sweater looked amazing! All the crumply, jammed-up stitches relaxed and straightened out. I tugged on the sleeves and the torso, to make it smooth out and fit a little better. I just can't get over what an improvement it is.<br /><br />Of course, I blocked Katie's pieces first, and I'm trying to sew the seams a little looser -- I tend to be a very tight stitcher. Hopefully it will come out even better (which is why I did hers second -- since it's light blue, it can be passed down to Ian in a few years, whereas he'll outgrow his by next year at the latest).<br /><br />I'm feeling more successful at knitting than at baking. I started Christmas cookies today, and ended up with very flat Christmas trees, extra crunchy fudge (note to self: when allowing preschooler to help decorate with sprinkles, make sure to give him the thing with the sprinkler top, so he won't pour out the sprinkles), and flattish snowflakes. I don't know if it's my margarine or what, but it's frustrating. At the moment, I wouldn't give any of these -- except maybe the fudge -- out as teacher/friend gifts. I'm going to have to come up with some more foolproof recipes. Tomorrow we'll be dipping Christmas-shaped pretzels in Ghirardelli white chocolate and sprinkling them with holiday sprinkles. I have high hopes for that project -- if I give Ian the right shaker!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1166133277948914872006-12-14T16:29:00.000-05:002006-12-14T16:54:37.976-05:00Mwahahaha!Fooled you, didn't I? Did I say every day in November? And then go right off on a weekend away to Baltimore to visit relatives and yarn? I did. So no blogging in November (no, I can't remember what happened after that weekend -- I suspect it had something to do with multiple deadlines at the same time). And none in December, apparently, until now. And little cohesive stuff, either, but there are a few bloggish things that have been floating around in my brain.<br /><br />Thing #1: The kids have been "playing" Dragonquest on Playstation with Dave for the last few weeks. He maintains that any violence is cartoonish, and thus not the kind of thing we need to restrict. I'm skeptical, but I've been letting it go. Hey, at least there's a strong female character! Anyway, they all go up into the bedroom together, Dave mans the controls, and the kids wrestle each other around the room and apparently absorb all sorts of geek language. Conversations around my house go something like this now:<br /><br />Ian: "I'm a frozen ghost, and frozen ghosts can inflict more damage than liquid ghosts."<br />Katie: "I'm going to use twin dragon slash on you."<br /><br />There's also a lot of casting "boom" and "zing" while shopping. I try to pretend they're not mine.<br /><br />Thing #2: This morning I watched my neighbor's 9-year-old daughter before school because she had an emergency. This girl is pretty much Katie's best friend, and they play often. Friend is hard to describe, but generally okay. However, her family are evangelical Christians, so I found myself being proselytized (to?) before I had my coffee. This is an excerpt from the conversation around the breakfast table:<br /><br />Katie: Did you know that one thousand billion years from now, the Earth is going to explode. It's true. I read it in a book. <br />Friend: Well, it doesn't matter because God is going to end the world soon. (turns to me) Do you believe in God?<br />Me: Yes.<br />F: Does she?<br />Me: I don't know, you'd have to ask her.<br />F: Well, have you been saved? <br />Me: We believe in a different kind of religion.<br />F: Well *Christians* --<br />K: But it's *science* --<br />F: We're Christian, just a different flavor of Christian than you. There are lots of different religions, you know. <br />F: I know, but when Christians die, they all go to heaven, and ... I don't know what happens next, but I guess I'll see you guys in heaven.<br />K: Well, the Earth is going to end one thousand billion years from now, but it doesn't matter, because we won't still be alive. <br />F: Did you know that back in the time of the Bible, people lived for 300 years?<br />Me: Some people think that that was just a way of showing respect to people.<br />F: It's true! It's in the Bible.<br />K: Sometime the Bible lies. <br />Me, intervening: People believe different things about the Bible. Some people believe it literally, and some people think it's more of a story. Right?<br />F nods.<br />Me: Can we please move on to a different topic??<br /><br />(Dave is very proud that Katie took up for the side of science, by the way.)<br /><br />So this afternoon, I went over and gave some of our extra pine roping (note to self: 75 feet is <em>far</em> too much pine roping to buy, even if it does support the PTO) to my neighbor, and I thought I'd mention this in passing. I said, "You should have heard the theological discussion at our house this morning. I hope it's okay that I was telling them that it's okay that there are all different kinds of beliefs." Her response -- and keep in mind that this is someone I'm friendly with: "Not in my world it's not." Ho-kay. I said, "Well, at least that it's okay that we can believe what we want to believe," and headed back across the street. I didn't even tell her about the evenhanded approach to peace in the Middle East that I promoted to her child. (She should know better -- she saw my Hillary sign in the window!)<br /><br />Thing #3: I'm done with Christmas shopping! Woohoo! Of course, we're not exactly done with decorating -- boxes and bins still strewn throughout the house. In fact, one-quarter of the ornaments still have yet to make it to the Christmas tree. Fortunately, I've got a whole weekend to deal with it -- we were going to have Ian's 4th birthday party on Sunday, but only one child could make it. (Very, very sad.) So we reissued invites today for Jan. 7, and we're hoping at least a few will come. We had to promise Chuck E. Cheese for the celebration of the actual day (ack!), but he took it better than I thought he would. And we'll have a family party when my parents get her next Thursday. Dave's pushing to move his parties to the summer and have half-birthday celebrations, but I don't know that that would be any better. <br /><br />Thing #4: I've been busy, busy, busy knitting. Sadly, I've succumbed to SSPD (Second Sock Procrastination Disorder), and I have no fewer than four single socks that need their mates. I have reasons -- not necessarily good ones -- for each sock to be mateless, but it's no excuse. Still, they have to wait until I finish the kids' sweaters, which are all done but need making up. I'm working on that tonight and tomorrow, and have to be finished before they get their pictures done tomorrow afternoon. I'm hoping to post some pictures of the things I'm doing, but since many of them are gifts, I may have to wait until after Christmas -- I can't trust the recipients not to peek!<br /><br />And that's it. I'll try to be more profound (and prolific) in the future. I'd really like to build this up to a much more frequent blog. It helps that a phone conversation with a friend the other day revealed that this friend has greater admiration for and faith in my writing ability than I remembered. Nothing like a compliment to spur you on to more effort!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1162489385363334032006-11-02T12:35:00.000-05:002006-11-02T12:43:05.370-05:00En garde!<div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennifermorgan/286940110/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://static.flickr.com/109/286940110_56c81e6c9e_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennifermorgan/286940110/">En garde!</a> <br /> Originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/jennifermorgan/">JennDM</a>. </span></div>One more -- notice the wicked grin on Ian's face. Maybe he wasn't quite such a good knight after all!<br clear="all" />Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1162488566833345802006-11-02T12:22:00.000-05:002006-11-02T12:31:28.283-05:00Glinda, the Good Witch<div align="center"><div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennifermorgan/286921932/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/111/286921932_c757d77705_m.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ></span></div></div><p align="center"><br clear="all"> </p>Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1162488466335377722006-11-02T12:20:00.000-05:002006-11-02T12:32:20.413-05:00Good Sir Ian<div style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 10px; MARGIN-LEFT: 10px"><a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennifermorgan/286921938/"><img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://static.flickr.com/111/286921938_5df6c4bc92_m.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" ></span></div><br clear="all">Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1162421119327389342006-11-01T17:24:00.000-05:002006-11-02T12:21:35.576-05:00The First Day . . .. . . of <a href="http://www.fussy.org/nablopomo.html">NaBloPoMo</a>. <a href="http://www.fussy.org">Fussy </a>is issuing a challenge to those of us who can't partake in NaNoWriMo. She's daring us to blog every day during the month of November. Sounds like a plan. I haven't officially signed up, but I think I'm going to try to meet the challenge. After all, my mom always says that if you do something every day for 30 days, it becomes a habit, and I have to admit I've been slacking quite a bit around here. At the very least, maybe NaBloPoMo will inspire some of my favorite, infrequently posting bloggers to produce more reading material for me!<br /><br />So last night was Halloween. Costume sewing was taking place right up until the last minute, but I did manage to complete both costumes in the space of four days. (We missed the Halloween parade and costume contest on Saturday, but it was a nasty, rainy day anyway.) This year we had Glinda, the Good Witch, and a knight in chain mail:<br /><br /><!-- Start of Flickr Badge --><br /><style type="text/css"><br />.zg_div {margin:0px 5px 5px 0px; width:117px;}<br />.zg_div_inner {border: solid 1px #000000; background-color:#ffffff; color:#666666; text-align:center; font-family:arial, helvetica; font-size:11px;}<br />.zg_div a, .zg_div a:hover, .zg_div a:visited {color:#3993ff; background:inherit !important; text-decoration:none !important;}<br /></style><br /><script type="text/javascript"><br />zg_insert_badge = function() {<br />var zg_bg_color = 'ffffff';<br />var zgi_url = 'http://www.flickr.com/apps/badge/badge_iframe.gne?zg_bg_color='+zg_bg_color+'&zg_person_id=95883994%40N00&zg_tags=halloween&zg_tag_mode=any';<br />document.write('<iframe style="background-color:#'+zg_bg_color+'; border-color:#'+zg_bg_color+'; border:none;" width="113" height="151" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="'+zgi_url+'" title="Flickr Badge"><\/iframe>');<br />if (document.getElementById) document.write('<div id="zg_whatlink"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/badge_new.gne" style="color:#3993ff;" onclick="zg_toggleWhat(); return false;">what is this?<\/a><\/div>');<br />}<br />zg_toggleWhat = function() {<br />document.getElementById('zg_whatdiv').style.display = (document.getElementById('zg_whatdiv').style.display != 'none') ? 'none' : 'block';<br />document.getElementById('zg_whatlink').style.display = (document.getElementById('zg_whatdiv').style.display != 'none') ? 'none' : 'block';<br />return false;<br />}<br /></script><br /><div class="zg_div"><div class="zg_div_inner"><a href="http://www.flickr.com">www.<strong style="color:#3993ff">flick<span style="color:#ff1c92">r</span></strong>.com</a><br><br /><script type="text/javascript">zg_insert_badge();</script><br /><div id="zg_whatdiv">This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/95883994@N00">JennDM</a> tagged with <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/95883994@N00/tags/halloween">halloween</a>. Make your own badge <a href="http://www.flickr.com/badge_new.gne">here</a>.</div><br /><script type="text/javascript">if (document.getElementById) document.getElementById('zg_whatdiv').style.display = 'none';</script><br /></div><br /></div><br /><!-- End of Flickr Badge --><br /><br /><br />[Grr. Pictures to come. Has <em>anybody</em> ever gotten Blogger to get their pictures up there? Looking for a workaround.]<br /><br />Remind me never to volunteer to sew a satin-and-tulle costume again! Maybe I can talk them into fleece every year from now on -- <em>so</em> much more fun to sew. But I was pretty happy with how they turned out. I have to credit Dave with the freehand-drawn dragon on Ian's tunic, necessitated by Ian's rejection of the rampant lion design that came with the pattern.<br /><br />Katie got to go trick-or-treating even though she was home with a fever both yesterday and today. I have to admit, at least kids home sick with a fever are easy to care for -- stick them in front of the TV wrapped in blankets, and they're pretty much good for the day. I'm just hoping no one else gets it, since we're supposed to head for Baltimore this weekend. I'm already feeling guilty about Katie missing three days of school this week, and next week she's off for Election Day and Veterans' Day -- a total of five days of school in two weeks! I've got to dig out some craft projects or something.<br /><br />So that's it for the first day. Tomorrow I'll take pictures of some of my knitting projects in preparation for <a href="http://www.knittinguniverse.com/flash/events/EventDetail.php?EventID=28">Stitches East</a> (secondary reason for the Baltimore trip; the primary reason is that Dave is presenting at a National Science Teachers Association conference -- my chance to geek out about yarn is just a bonus).Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1161896031511809822006-10-26T16:38:00.000-04:002006-10-26T16:53:51.546-04:00Parenting Challenges Abound in the Thursday FolderKatie brought home her weekly collection of papers, graded assignments, notices, etc. today, and I'm troubled by multiple parts of it. Is it PMS? Am I asking too much? I have no idea.<br /><br />Troubling Item 1: homework/test packet -- Katie's reading test is marked with her first-ever B+. Now, I know I'm a perfectionist and all, and I live in great fear of passing that on to my child(ren), but I'm curious about why. They're multiple choice questions -- are they misleading? Is she having trouble deciphering clues from the context? I found out they're even open-book, and she has the page number by each question telling where she got the answer. I know a B+ is no big deal, but I'd like to go over it with her. Of course, I asked her to bring her reading book home, and she threw a fit. Do I pursue it? Or let it go?<br /><br />Troubling Item 2: school pictures -- Her smile is lovely; her hair is...well...not the best. Sure, it's not sticking up or anything, but it really looks kind of lank and ratty. Do I attempt to get retakes, even though they're supposed to be only for those who were absent? How do you tell your child, "Sorry, honey, you don't look pretty enough in this picture. Let's try again."?<br /><br />Troubling Item 3: art gift fundraiser -- The school picture company has this program called <a href="http://www.sports-section.com/new/sch-ym.asp">Young Masters</a> where the kids draw a picture on a special piece of cardboard in art class, and then the artwork can be put on mugs, shirt, coasters, trivets, calendars, etc. The PTO was talked into this, and I did think it was a great idea. And we made an effort to squeeze it in in time for holiday gift-giving season. I hear the art teacher was even excited about doing it with the kids.<br /><br />Well. Katie's artwork came home today. The art teacher had her class think up and draw hybrid animals -- Katie drew a horse with the legs of a cheetah, a dolphin tail, and butterfly wings. Very interesting creative exercise, but I'm not sending all of my family $25 pieces of ceramic with a drawing of a "what the hell is <em>that</em>?" on it for Christmas. I'm really pretty pissed off with this, both as a regular parent and as an active PTO member. I feel like the art teacher sabotaged the fundraiser, and I'm pretty upset about it.<br /><br />Here's the biggest dilemma -- as far as I know, there are no "redos" of this. Even if there are extra pieces of cardboard around I could pull strings to get, I can't see Katie sitting down and drawing a picture to my order without a fight. And I'm trying to rein in my reaction so as not to hurt her feelings -- it's not that it's a <em>bad</em> picture, it's that the subject matter is out there. I'm just so frustrated with all of this.<br /><br />Any and all advice welcome.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1160436300226194832006-10-09T19:23:00.000-04:002006-10-09T19:25:00.243-04:00Dave's Parental FailingsDave is in the doghouse for failing to back me up while I was disciplining the boy. His downfall? Ian saying quite seriously and with an incredibly fresh tone: "Mommy. Come. On. You are <span style="font-style:italic;">not</span> in charge of my butt."<br /><br />Laughing doesn't help -- even if you cover your face when you do it!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1158015347689196752006-09-11T18:39:00.000-04:002006-09-11T18:55:47.760-04:00A Milestone in ParentingToday I passed a new milestone with Katie -- we had "the talk." <br /><br />No, not the one about where babies come from or how they get there. That probably would have been easier.<br /><br />This talk was the one in which I implant a generalized but vague global anxiety into my gifted child's head, somewhat akin to the anxiety I felt about a nuclear holocaust almost 20 years ago. This being the 5th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks, all the news media in New York have been talking and talking and talking about them, and it occurred to me that they might be brought up at school, too. Since Katie was only 2 when they occurred, she's been pretty sheltered from them, so I thought I'd rather she hear about them from us.<br /><br />The thing is, I find it amazing how vividly I remember that day. We lived on Long Island at the time, about 50 miles away from NYC. I was driving to my aerobics class that morning, with Katie in the car to be left in the gym's child care room, when I heard on NPR about the first plane hitting the tower. I was more puzzled than anything -- it was a gorgeous, sunny day with a crystal-clear blue sky (I still remember this). Not a cloud to be seen. And if Long Island looked like that, it was likely the City did, too. How could anyone make such a mistake as to run into a building with weather like this? <br /><br />When I dropped Katie off, I saw that the TV, which was usually showing kids' cartoons, was turned to the news -- and I saw, live, as so many did, the second plane hit the WTC. I watched for a few minutes, kind of stunned, and then, well, I proceeded to take part in the aerobics class. People were giving us updates throughout the class, but there seemed to be nothing to do but go on with our lives.<br /><br />Afterward, I drove home, and called Dave, who was teaching at a high school in the Hamptons. I think I was on the phone with him when the first building collapsed. It was as if I could feel all the people dying when I watched it, and I sobbed, as I'm sure everyone who saw it did. I left the television on all day, while Katie played on the floor nearby. I was so grateful that she was young enough not to understand what was happening, that I could leave the TV on and not worry about her, that she wouldn't pick up on the vibes, as so many young children did, and crash toy planes into block-tower buildings for days after.<br /><br />But now I think it's time she knew about it. So I called her into the living room to have a talk before school. I started out by asking her what she knew about terrorists, or September 11, and was surprised that she'd really never registered anything about it. I told her that terrorists were people who believed so strongly in their cause that they were willing to kill other people to get their point across, rather than do it by voting, or explaining, or talking. And I told her about all of the attacks -- the ones on the WTC and the Pentagon, and the retaking of the hijacked plane over Pennsylvania. She listened solemnly, and crawled into my lap. I felt like she got the idea, and understood it was important. <br /><br />Our little talk concluded, and I asked her if she had any questions. "Nope," she said, and bounced off my lap. "My feet are cold. I'm going upstairs to get some socks!" And she ran off.<br /><br />Not quite the reaction I expected, but I'm glad I talked with her nonetheless. I hope she never has to have a similar talk with her child.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1157515551676774342006-09-05T23:28:00.000-04:002006-09-06T00:08:08.346-04:00Miscellanea#1. Not the Brightest Idea in the World<br /><br />I was going to take the kids out to dinner to celebrate the first day of school, but changed my mind and decided to roast marshmallows over our fire pit and make s'mores with them instead. Because it's just a brilliant idea to load tired, overstimulated children up with marshmallows and chocolate right before bed. And because starting a fire in the rain to fulfill said promise is a joy as well. Perhaps I should rethink these things a bit. Still, the kids (including neighbor Mikayla) enjoyed it, even if the weird, square, gourmet marshmallows we bought wouldn't catch fire properly. (I like mine carbonized, thank you very much.)<br /><br />#2. First Day of School<br /><br />I hate to duplicate <a href="http://wouldashoulda.com/2006/08/30/successful-reentry/#more-1138">every</a> <a href="http://lindasherwood.typepad.com/mommy/2006/09/school_starts_t.html">other</a> <a href="http://www.mommybloggers.com/2006/09/wanting_vs_doing_1.html">mom-blogger</a> in the blogosphere, but yay for the first day of school. Sure, it inspires tantrums and angst in the children, which use up pretty much all of my patience, but oh, the quiet when everyone -- including Dave -- is away at school. Not that I got as much work done as I should have. But it was relaxing -- and <em>almost</em> made up for the fits about hair, lost jackets, which shoes to wear, and whether or not the jeans with the embroidery on them match the green shirt Katie wanted to wear.<br /><br />So, for posterity, here are pictures of Katie (3rd grade) and Ian (preschool/day care) on the first day of school, 2006:<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/1600/katie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/320/katie.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/1600/ian.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/320/ian.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />#3. What <em>Have</em> I Been Doing With My Time?<br /><br />This summer, I decided I don't have enough unfinished craft projects/kits lying around the house. I needed more. MORE! And kits are for sissies! I need to <em>create</em> something with just a couple of sticks and some yarn! I've taken a stab at knitting before, and I even made a really adorable (if I may say so myself) baby sweater for a friend of mine, but I think I may be hooked. I blame <a href="http://www.yarnharlot.ca/blog/">Stephanie Pearl-McPhee</a>, whom I saw at the Book Expo America, and who writes hysterical books and blog posts about knitting.<br /><br />Anyway, I decided to try out some socks. I bought a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sensational-Knitted-Socks-Charlene-Schurch/dp/1564775704/sr=8-1/qid=1157508742/ref=pd_bbs_1/002-4248909-4252824?ie=UTF8&s=books">book</a>, and sat down to teach myself to knit <a href="http://www.knitting.co.nz/site/page_affix/toaffix_learntoknit9/">with 4-5 needles at a time</a>. (By the way, this is craziness. I've finally figured out the <em>how</em> of doing it, but I'll be darned if I know who came up with this technique in the first place!)<br /><br />Now, where should you start when embarking on a new crafty venture? By buying the most expensive material you can find, of course. I bought a skein of beautiful yarn that cost $21.00. (Yes, I know -- one can buy many socks for that price. Trust me, Dave's on your side on this one.) However, since I didn't want to screw up my first socks and waste the yarn, I had to make a practice pair first. And I'm happy to announce that I've finished the first sock of the practice pair (made with a skein of Lion Brand Magic Stripes yarn that I found lying around the house -- apparently, I've had this notion for some time now). I can't tell you how much delight it brings me -- it's such a cute sock! And I'm more than halfway finished with the second one, and if it weren't for the time I had to spend, you know, <em>earning a living,</em> I'd be done with the pair. Anyway, a few people of been clamoring -- that's right, clamoring -- for a pic, so I have put a couple below. Isn't it cute! Cute enough to wear even with my Birks, I think, no matter what they say about socks and sandals!<br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/1600/sock2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/320/sock2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/1600/sock1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/320/sock1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1154366049213304172006-07-31T13:07:00.000-04:002006-07-31T13:14:56.330-04:00Cute Things They Say<strong>In a discussion of reptilian anatomical functions (don't ask):</strong><br /><br />Katie: Do lizards stick their tongues out to smell?<br /><br />Me: Yes, they do.<br /><br />Katie: Like snakes. Snakes do that too, right? That's weird. Ants use their antannas to smell.<br /><br />Me: An-TEN-nas. [Yes, I know it's antennae -- the correct pronunciation is more important at the moment than obscure Latinate forms.]<br /><br />Katie: An-TEN-nas.<br /><br />Ian: Right, ants use their antennas to smell. And I fink the <a href="http://www.tivo.com/0.0.asp">TiVo guy</a> uses <em>his</em> antennas to smell, too.<br /><br />Dave: Not quite, buddy.<br /><br /><strong>And in Target yesterday, where I have to say that we were not the only family having, um, <em>interesting</em> exchanges:</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />Ian, at the top of his lungs: Hey, remember when Daddy was sleeping on the couch?<br /><br />[No, we don't know what he's talking about -- some time when Dave napped in the living room maybe? Yes, we laughed hysterically and tried to explain why to Katie. No, we don't think anyone overheard.]Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1150417895035243752006-06-15T20:25:00.000-04:002006-06-15T20:31:35.053-04:00Live, from the Morgan HouseholdActual dinnertime conversation at our house:<br /><br />Ian, pretending to be Darth Vader, is wandering around the kitchen (this -- both the pretending and the wandering -- is typical). He "slips," and falls down on the ground.<br /><br />Ian: Darth Vader fell down on the Dark Path!<br /><br />Katie: There's no Dark Path. What are you talking about?<br /><br />Ian: Yes dere is. Yoda says dere's a Dark Path.<br /><br />Katie: Mommy, is there a Dark Path?<br /><br />Me: Well, yes, there is, but it's metaphorical.<br /><br />Katie: What is meta-...meta-?<br /><br />Me: [Offers some kind of random explanation of a metaphor involving getting on my nerves -- subtlety is not my strong suit.]<br /><br />Katie: Whatever. I can't understand what Yoda says in that movie [Return of the Jedi] anyway.<br /><br />Me: Why, because he's 900 years old?<br /><br />Katie: He's not that old in real life!<br /><br />Me: What?<br /><br />Katie: You know, in real life, he's not that old.<br /><br />Me: Katie, he's a puppet. Yoda is a puppet. You know that, right?<br /><br />Katie: Really?<br /><br />Ian: I always fought he was a person in a costume.<br /><br />And we just saw the Muppet displays at the Smithsonian, too!!<br /><br />[Approximately 24 hours before my status as temporary single parent is relieved. Thank God.]Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1150150105399454942006-06-12T18:02:00.000-04:002006-06-12T18:08:25.413-04:00My Free Spirit -- NOT!We just returned from a family in wedding in Baltimore that necessitated taking Katie out of school for two days. We asked her teacher to provide her with classwork to do while we were traveling. She sent home her journal, and told Katie to write each day about whatever she wanted. Apparently, they write in their journal each day in response to specific prompts.<br /><br />The freedom of expression was just too much for Katie to take -- she was paralyzed, and couldn't write just about her day or the things she did. Instead, she felt she had to <span style="font-style: italic;">make up her own prompts,</span> including this one: "On your trip, you crossed over many bridges. What bridges did you see?" (One of the bridges we crossed multiple times was the Francis Scott Key Memorial Bridge, and we instituted a new family tradition of singing "The Star-Spangled Banner" whenever we drove over it. That's one of the things she wrote about.)<br /><br />This need to adhere to externally imposed structure is a little worrisome. It's all I need to worry about her having OCD tendencies similar to mine -- and don't even get me started on the new game of walking only on certain color tiles in the mall and how it messes with my <span style="font-style: italic;">own</span> head!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1149418038382141852006-06-04T06:43:00.000-04:002006-06-12T18:09:17.776-04:00"Fill in alarmist and armageddonist factoid here"The above, which was mistakenly published in a <a href="http://www.philly.com/mld/philly/news/14691089.htm">Greenpeace press release</a>, is <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> why editors and proofreaders are necessary in this world! Thanks to Peter Sagal and the <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/waitwait/">Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me</a> crew for the fun new slogan.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1149045446731462792006-05-30T23:11:00.000-04:002006-05-30T23:17:26.746-04:00From the Home of the Malaprop-Morgans(Yikes! Has it really been a month since I've posted? Real life getting in the way, I guess.)<br /><br />Two misspoken incidents today to report:<br /><br />1) Katie was reading a new book, Clarice Bean Spells Trouble (by Lauren Child, author of the Charlie and Lola books -- this book has a waiting list at our house, and I get it next. Clarice Bean is hysterical). She brought it with her to read in the car, and as she was buckling her seatbelt, she said to me, "You know, I'm on Chapter 15, almost at the end, and Clarice hasn't spelled 'trouble' yet."<br /><br />2) It's so hot, I gathered up the kids and went shopping to spend money in the air-conditioned comfort of Target (we have no central A/C). We were walking through the outdoor/gardening section, and Ian sniffed ostentatiously. "It smells yike fwowers," he observed. "Actually," I said, "what you smell is fertilizer." "Oh." Cut to a few minutes later. "I fink we need to buy some more." "Some more what, buddy?" "Some more turtle-izer." I'm not sure what it is he thinks those chemicals will do to the grass!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1146439693871451312006-04-30T19:02:00.000-04:002006-04-30T19:28:13.886-04:00Creative Carpentry, or, I Think I May Have Inhaled an Entire TreeWhat do you get when you mix two intellectually gifted but very unhandy people with a home improvement project that is not exactly cut-and-dried? I don't know, but if you want to see the answer, come hang out in our basement.<br /><br />It all started when I fell in love with a <a href="http://images.lowes.com/general/relaunch/product/btn_enlarge.gif">tin-tile-like ceiling</a> at Lowe's and decided I <span style="font-style: italic;">had </span>to have it for my office. Hey, look! It's called E-Z Track! There should be no problem then, right? And look! It installs over joists. <span style="font-style: italic;">We</span> have joists over which to install it. Yay! I get my ceiling!<br /><br />Um, not so fast. Because it installs flush with the joists, and we have inconveniences like gas pipes and electrical wires and water pipes hanging down a bit below the joists. Hm. Oh. What do we do now?<br /><br />There were several solution iterations tried out during our "thought experiment" phase (and we've been thinking about this for quite a while). What we finally arrived at was a form of "furring strip" to extend the joists and essentially make them thicker, to which we would then fasten the track of the ceiling system. Of course, we had to drop it down by almost 4 inches to accommodate the pipes, so we decided to use blocks cut from 2x4s as our "furring strips." But how would we fasten these blocks to the joists? Toenail them? Drill in diagonally from each side? We finally decided to use pieces of 1x2 to fasten vertically to both the block and the joist, one on each side of the joist.<br /><br />Now there are 14 joists, and we need to fasten 12 tracks. 14 x 12 = 168 blocks needed. And 336 1x2 fasteners. Eeks. Fortunately, I've <a href="http://jennifermorgan.blogspot.com/2004/12/did-you-miss-me.html">rediscovered my love for the compound miter saw</a>, not to mention I'm able to cut the 1x2 sections in a bundle of 6 at a time. And we're using a nail gun, so that makes it a little bit easier (although 336 x 8 = 2,688 nails, and we're going to need to go to the hardware store [again!] and pick up some more nail-gun strips). However, I'm finding out that sawdust and asthma just don't mix. Dave finally dug out a mask for me, but it's darned uncomfortable.<br /><br />So I've just fastened one piece of 1x2 to each of, um (quick calculation in my head: 6 8' 2x4s, with 24 blocks out of each, equals . . .) 144 blocks. Dave asked if I felt a bit like Rosie the Riveter, but I actually felt like the 6-year-old assigned to nail scrap pieces of wood together so she won't get in the way of real woodwork. In the meantime, he's solving the problem of fastening suspended ceiling track to the soffit that was built with no studs -- he's finding another use for the 1x2 pieces. One of these days, we'll get our part done so we can call the contractor back to finish the job. It's got to be finished by the second week of June, though, since that's when all our company arrives! Maybe I'll start getting some of the ceiling pieces together tonight. Then again, Veronica Mars, The West Wing, Desperate Housewives, and Grey's Anatomy are all new tonight . . . Hey! I think I may have just realized why this project is taking so darned long . . .Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1146268083215617022006-04-28T19:44:00.000-04:002006-04-28T19:48:03.226-04:00Overheard from the KitchenDave: Ian, do you want blueberries with your corndog?<br />Ian: I'm not Ian, I'm Yuke Skywalker.<br />Dave (with practically audible eyeroll): <span style="font-style: italic;">Luke Skywalker,</span> do you want blueberries with your corndog?<br />Ian/Luke: Um . . . or you can just call me Yuke.<br />Dave, even more exasperated: <span style="font-style: italic;">LUKE! </span>Do you want blueberries with your corndog?<br />Ian/Luke: Um, what?<br /><br />There are downsides to having a child who entertains himself.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1145999629614473802006-04-25T16:56:00.000-04:002006-04-25T17:13:49.646-04:00Two Posts in One Day!!I've been meaning to write a blog entry about Nancy Drew computer games, and how much we, as a family, love them. And by we, I mostly mean me. Katie loves them too, but she can't really get very far in them by herself. So they've been sort of a bonding experience for us, as the three of us (excluding Dave) gather around the flickering monitor to solve all of Nancy's cases. Heck, even my mother-in-law is getting in on the action, and the last time she was here, she and Katie were trading hints on how to get farther in the various game scenarios.<br /><br />Maybe it's the titian hair connection, but I've always loved Nancy Drew. As a kid, I devoured as many of the books as I could. I saved them so my daughter could read them. And now she's just about reached that point. Katie <span style="font-style: italic;">can</span> read them, but they're still a bit long for her attention span, unless she's in <span style="font-style: italic;">just</span> the right frame of mind. Instead, she's plowing her way through the little-sister series, Nancy Drew Notebooks. And I'm fine with that.<br /><br />Remember the <a href="http://jennifermorgan.blogspot.com/2006/02/fine-motor-skills-still-under.html">Blue's Clues anecdote</a> about Ian? Well, I'm here to tell you that he's merely following in his sister's footsteps. For a little background, I have to admit that I lost my cell phone last week, and there was a great deal of consternation in the Morgan household, with me obsessing about <span style="font-style: italic;">where</span> it could <span style="font-style: italic;">be</span> and Dave calling it at all hours of the day and night in the hopes that whoever swiped and/or found it would actually answer it. (He was vindicated -- I had left it at Olive Garden, and a manager finally heard it ringing in the safe. My luck holds out, once again.) Anyway, in picking up around the house today, I found a little notebook of Katie's. I'm nosey, so I opened it up to see what she's been writing lately. I found this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/1600/April%202006%20pics%20042%20small.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/8150/380/320/April%202006%20pics%20042%20small.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />I cracked up. Hysterical. Clearly, a Nancy-Drew-in-training if ever I saw one. Poor Ian, always the suspect. You know, when you contemplate having your second child, you worry and fret over how the first one will feel -- whether she'll resent the new baby, whether she'll feel replaced, and so on. I'm finally coming to the realization that it wasn't <span style="font-style: italic;">her</span> tender feelings I needed to be concerned about!!Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1145985624095221672006-04-25T13:08:00.000-04:002006-04-25T14:21:37.790-04:00Kinder-okeKatie started swimming lessons last night.<br /><br />-- Digression: Do I <em>really</em> have to wait until she's in her late 20s before she realizes that sometimes I <em>do</em> know what I'm talking about and I <em>do</em> know what's best for her? The proposal of swim lessons was met with tears and a tantrum and cries of "But I <em>can't</em> swim! I don't want to!" all because she took one set of lessons a year ago and didn't turn into Mark Spitz. (Whew, that probably dates me, huh?) And yet, after 20 minutes in the water, she came out grinning from ear to ear and crowing, "That was so much fun! I can't <em>wait</em> to come back tomorrow!" So, good, I'm glad she's happy about it now. I would have made her go anyway, because knowing how to swim is one of my things -- I wouldn't have backed off, the way I did with the Barnes & Noble American Girl event that made her cry last weekend. Her liking it makes it easier, though, and I'm glad of that, even as I wonder what I was thinking to sign her up for lessons from 6:30 to 7:00 every night for the next two weeks. End of digression. --<br /><br />Anyway, as we're sitting on the bench waiting for the teenage teachers to figure out what they're doing and who's in what class, a little boy next to Katie starts kicking his feet and singing, "It's hard to believe...that I couldn't see...that you were always there beside me-ee." I chuckled to myself. This song is continually playing in our house -- and more to the point, in my head -- as a result of Katie and Ian's obsession with <em><a href="http://psc.disney.go.com/disneychannel/originalmovies/highschoolmusical/">High School Musical</a>.</em> They sing into our microphone (Ian is a surprisingly good singer for a 3-year-old), Katie listens to it on her new MP3 player, they pretend they're the characters, they quote the lines. It's a true obsession. And the songs are relatively catchy, and harmless, so I let it go. I've been surprised how many of my friends with 7-year-olds are reporting similar happenings in their households. I tell you, Disney really hit its target market with this movie!<br /><br />So the boy was singing, and I nudged Katie -- she was smiling too. And then she joined in on the duet, despite not even knowing this boy (whose name turned out to be Ian), and the two of them sang a whole verse together. And not under their breaths, actually out loud. It was absolutely adorable, and I wish I'd had my video camera with me. I wonder if I can talk them into an encore performance someday.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1145282967656500312006-04-17T09:49:00.000-04:002006-04-17T10:09:27.730-04:00I Hate Easter!I've just discovered that I hate Easter. I don't recall having this antipathy before, but yesterday both implanted and cemented it. How do I hate Easter? Let me count the ways . . .<br /><br />1) Holidays with kids begin <span style="font-style: italic;">so frickin' early!!!</span> But at least with Christmas (in my family, anyway), it's stretched out for a few hours. Our Easter festivities started at 7 a.m. and were over by 8:05. After that, the fun began.<br /><br />2) I feel compelled to buy candy at Easter, even more so than at Halloween. I'm not normally a huge candy buyer, but Easter has all these springtime-only candies: Peeps, Cadbury Creme Eggs, Cadbury Mini Eggs, Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs. Halloween doesn't do that! So I buy way too much candy to hoard the specialties, then restrict what candy the kids can eat (sorry, children have not suffered enough in their short lifetimes to deserve whole Cadbury Creme Eggs to themselves), then eat it all (with Dave's help -- ask him how many Reese's Eggs he's eaten in the last two days).<br /><br />3) Why do we have more than one holiday that focuses on gorging oneself with candy anyway? In our house, we have a rule (for the kids) of two pieces of candy a day. Now, these aren't Snickers bars -- they're usually a single Jolly Rancher or chocolate coin, or maybe a small box of Nerds. The kids are fine with that. But for the holiday, I let up on the rule. Sure, they could have more than two pieces of candy for one day -- what would be the harm in that? Well. Let me tell you. Three-year-olds have no concept of what others would consider reasonable candy consumption. Ian? Started eating candy at 7:15 and wallowed in his Easter basket pretty much nonstop until 11, when we finally cut him off. He then spent the remainder of the day alternating between running around the house in circles and throwing monstrous, screaming temper tantrums. Yeah. That was a good plan. I thought the sugar-hyperactivity connection was apocryphal, but after yesterday, I'm not so sure.<br /><br />4) Katie, the 7-year-old, has been told the "truth" about the Easter Bunny, as well as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. I felt like I had to do it because she kept challenging me in front of her brother, and I wanted her to cut it out so she didn't plant suspicion in him. Thing is, I had visions of her being in on the secret and feeling all adult about it, helping to maintain the illusion. I think I remember feeling that way when I was a kid. Instead, she just finds every opportunity to announce that she knows that really <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> hid the eggs, that <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> bought the toys, etc. I finally had to yell at her about it -- and threaten to take away her candy. It just about ruined Easter for me.<br /><br />5) and 6) I hate dressing up. Apparently, so does Ian, as evidence by the fact that the biggest tantrum was about wearing his new Easter outfit (sweater vest, polo, short pants). And yet I felt compelled to dress for the Easter service, even though UUs apparently don't really celebrate Easter. Instead, we had a Flower Communion -- a nice idea -- and shared memories of Easter and Passover. Odd. How am I supposed to teach the kids that there's more to Easter than bunnies and candy when the church we're attending doesn't even acknowledge it from an objective, distant standpoint? Oh, well. I'll dig out the Bible and talk to Katie about it sometime this week. Hope I can find a regular Bible, and not Dave's hippy-dippy Good News Bible.<br /><br />7) Easter egg hunts and competitive children do not mix. I had a sobbing Katie on my hands at the community egg hunt at the park when she spent all her time looking for the special sparkly eggs, thinking there was plenty of time to pick up the other eggs, and then ended up with only one egg. Her brother got 19. Not that it mattered -- they both had to turn their eggs in to exchange them for free bags of -- what else? -- candy, but it was a life lesson that we had to get through first. Ugh.<br /><br />So that was our Easter. And now it's Spring Break. Already the kids were screaming at each other as I got out of the shower (one of my least favorite sounds in the world, especially as I step out of the shower). Fortunately, Ian's in daycare today. Katie went to play with a friend. Maybe I should get some work done in this time that I get a break from entertaining the children.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1144769913018770682006-04-11T11:32:00.000-04:002006-04-11T11:40:48.430-04:00I'm Your Beck and Call GirlKatie's home sick for the second day in a row. Ian's also home. I just discovered that I screwed up an editing job and have to scramble to get some stuff done that I didn't realize I had to do. Tension is somewhat high at the Morgan household, although the kids are actually being pretty good (read: watching TV and not arguing while I panic and my head explodes).<br /><br />Ian asks for an apple. "But I don't want the seeds. You have to take out the seeds." No problem -- I have my handy dandy <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0000DE5N7/qid=1144769586/sr=8-2/ref=pd_bbs_2/002-1053462-2170435?%5Fencoding=UTF8&v=glance&n=284507">OXO apple corer</a> right here. That's when the problem starts. "But I don't <span style="font-style: italic;">want</span> a hole in my apple!" Ian whines, as he (gently -- linoleum can be hard) throws himself down on the floor. "And I don't want skin."<br /><br />"But that's how you get the seeds out, Buddy. Do you want me to slice it so you have slices shaped like Os?"<br /><br />"No! I don't want a hole in my apple!" issues forth from the supine figure on the kitchen floor.<br /><br />I continue peeling the apple, resigning myself to throwing it away uneaten in a couple of hours. Inspiration hits. I pick up the intact core, slide it back into the hole, and hand the apple to him. "How did you do that?" "Magic," I reply.<br /><br />Crisis averted. The omnipotence of Mommy is restored.<br /><br />Now back to editing and my exploding head -- at least until lunchtime.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1143956076882539462006-04-01T23:52:00.000-05:002006-04-02T00:34:36.936-05:00I've Always Said White Was Boring . . .Long story ahead. Get through it, and you'll get the punchline/blog entry title.<br /><br />So. We're finishing our basement. Well, not so much <span style="font-style: italic;">we</span>, as there are a few contractors involved and lots of money changing hands. But we're cheap, and we've been brainwashed by <a href="http://tlc.discovery.com/fansites/tradingspaces/tradingspaces.html">TLC</a> into believing that we <span style="font-style: italic;">should</span> be able to do it ourselves, so we're doing as much as we think we can safely handle. So the contractor's done the framing, the electricity, the plumbing, the Sheetrock, and the taping and spackling -- we're doing the painting, the ceiling, and maybe some of the flooring. A huge chunk, I'm sure you'll agree. When it's done, we'll have added about 1100 square feet to our house, in the form of a playroom, an office, a guest bedroom, a workshop, and a 3/4 bathroom.<br /><br />And when I say <span style="font-style: italic;">we're</span> doing the painting, I actually mean <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm</span> doing the painting, as painting is one thing that Dave absolutely despises. I guilt him into taping and dropclothing and cleaning out paintbrushes occasionally, but it's part of our implicit marriage contract that if there's any painting to be done, I get to step up and do it. And it's a lot of painting. The fun kind -- no trim to paint around or flooring to watch out for -- but a lot nonetheless. I've more or less been immersed in it in my free time (and work time) for the last week, and I expect it to continue this week as well.<br /><br />Yesterday I got to start with colors, after the boring priming and painting the closets and playroom white. The guest room is kind of a tannish taupe, and while I'm not sure I totally love it yet, I think it will work once it's all decorated. The office -- <span style="font-style: italic;">my</span> home office -- is going to be purple. Now, before you think, "Eww, purple? Really?" -- as I know you're doing right now -- let me tell you that it's a lovely, deep, eggplant-y purple, and it looks amazing with gray carpet and white trim. I know, because that's how my office was in Alabama, and I really miss it. So I can't wait until the office is tricked out to my specifications, with -- most important of all -- a DOOR, purple walls, and my own choice of <a href="http://www.tatouagedesigns.com/store/productdetail.asp?ProductId=20537&ReturnTo=specials%2Easp">decorations</a>.<br /><br />The next section of the background of this story is that since painting is boring, repetitive, mind-numbing work, and I don't have anyone to talk to because Dave is watching the kids while I paint, I've been listening to my iPod nano and really enjoying it. My favorites at the moment are the podcast of <a href="http://www.npr.org/rss/podcast/podcast_detail.php?siteId=5183214">Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me</a>; the <a href="http://music.barnesandnoble.com/search/product.asp?z=y&EAN=67003044424&ITM=1"><span style="font-style: italic;">Veronica Mars</span> soundtrack</a>; and the audio version of <span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&isbn=0060548932&itm=1">Son of a Witch</a>,</span> by Gregory Maguire (sequel to <span style="font-style: italic;">Wicked</span>). Although I'm not usually an aurally oriented person, I'm enjoying the audiobook, and have gotten through 11 out of 12 CDs -- I'm not sure I would ever have read that far. Anyway, it's been entertaining.<br /><br />Also, as anyone in my family, especially Ian, will tell you, I'm a notoriously messy painter. My Trading Spaces paint shirt (bought for inspiration) is almost more paint than fabric, and I usually spend up to 20 minutes after each paint session scrubbing paint from my hands, arms, legs, and feet (I paint barefoot). Heck, I don't mind too much -- when I'm painting with white paint, I just focus on all the money I save on French manicures, what with all the paint under my fingernails. So I've been getting a little paint on the nano, but not too much, and it mostly comes right off.<br /><br />All of which brings us to tonight's events. There I was, painting my lovely purple office with paint that is turning out to be <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> the right color. I'm on the next-to-last CD of <span style="font-style: italic;">Son of a Witch</span> and reaching the climactic moments. It's late -- about 11:30 -- and I'm about 4/5 of the way done with the room's first coat. I lean down to dip my paint pad in my paint tray . . . and my nano slips out of my pocket and submerges itself in a sea of purple.<br /><br />Of course, I panic, yelling for Dave and running with the paint-logged nano up to the kitchen, dripping dark purple paint on the beige carpet as I go. I commenced washing the headphones; Dave got to work on de-painting the nano itself. The good news is that, while slightly purple-tinged (and ironically, I'd been thinking that it would be fun to paint the thing purple anyway), the nano was still working when we shut it down. The bad news is that not a small amount of paint got into the USB cable port. We're following the time-honored solution to wet electronics of letting it dry and waiting it out, and I'll be sleeping with my fingers crossed tonight. After all, how will I get through all the second coats waiting for me down in the basement without my trusty little white friend? I'm just kicking myself over and over again for dropping it in the first place. Only I could submerge a $200 piece of electronic equipment in purple paint.Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6748772.post-1142196611938609622006-03-12T15:40:00.000-05:002006-03-12T15:50:11.950-05:00Story of My LifeKatie has discovered a new website to play on: <a href="http://www.claires.com">Claires.com</a>. You can apparently select a figure and dress it and accessorize it and make it dance or something. So she was playing with it today while I frantically try to finish a book early so I can go play hooky with my friend <a href="http://www.lanidianerich.com">Lani</a> on Friday in the city.<br /><br />Katie, entering the office: Mommy, what are you wearing today?<br />Me: A green T-shirt and dark gray sweatpants. Why?<br />Katie: Oh, I can't find those on Claires.com. I was trying to make one that looked like you.<br />Dave, smirking: No, for that you'd have to go to Slobs.com.<br /><br />No respect, I tell you.<br /><br />The same site inspired a minor tiff between Katie and Ian. After styling a figure like her teacher (who is young, pretty, and stylish, and thus more reproducible than I), Katie offered to make one like Ian's teacher. Miss Linda is African American. Your first choice, apparently, is skin tone. After the third repetition of "But does she have black skin?" and the corresponding anguished "Noooooo," I stepped in to settle everything by explaining that she has <span style="font-style: italic;">dark brown</span> skin ("That's right," agreed Ian). The racial unconsciousness of preschoolers rearing its innocent head.<br /><br />And spinning off of that, Ian recently pointed to a picture in a knitting book of a little Asian girl wearing a poncho. "She looks like Jada, in my class." "Yes, she does. They looks similar because they're both Chinese, or Chinese American." "No, she's not. Jada's not Chinese!" (This shouted across Barnes & Noble.) I gave up the argument, even though I know that Jada is, in fact, Chinese American; it seemed the better part of valor.<br /><br />Interesting how kids give us things to think about, isn't it?Jennifer Morgan,http://www.blogger.com/profile/09287977820344212901noreply@blogger.com2