I lead a pretty casual life style. I’ve always been more comfortable in denim then chiffon. A-Man and I passed the age where our friends are getting married and aren’t yet at the age where their kids are getting married (thankfully!), so I don’t have many occasions to dress up. Thus, I don’t have many dress up clothes. I’m really okay with that, but once in a while, a girl wants to feel pretty and our trip to Bermuda provided just such an occasion.
We planned a fancy dinner to celebrate our 15th anniversary and I thought I had a dress all lined up, but it turned out to be too big (a good thing over all, but it threw a wrench in my plans). I tore this town apart looking for a dress that looked nice, would be wearable for the long term and wouldn’t cost me an arm and a leg. I’m pretty sure I hit every store in Concord, New Hampshire that sells women’s clothes and I couldn’t find one dress that met my criteria. I snagged a few dressy tops that went with a black skirt I already owned and called it good. I was disappointed I couldn’t find a dress, but I decided to focus on other issues like getting packed!
Two days before our departure I was running errands that included dropping off some pre-children cocktail dresses at Good Will. While there, I decided to take a spin through their rack of dresses.
My experiences of shopping at Good Will come mostly from my childhood. The first year I went to Girl Scout Camp, I went with all new clothes and a green plastic trash bag for laundry. It rained for 5 days straight. Can you say mildew boys and girls? The second year I went to Girl Scout Camp, I went with a mesh laundry bag and clothes from Good Will.
I frequently donate clothes to Good Will, but never think to shop there. Even though my friend Wendy is an ardent Goodwill fan and I frequently admire her finds, It just doesn’t enter my consciousness. Duh!
A little jewelry, a pink wrap and some heels and I was good to go.
Lo and behold, I found a dress. Actually, I found a perfect dress. I loved it, it was my size, in a classic style with an updated pattern and the kicker? It was $4.95. That’s right, four dollars and ninety-five cents. A far cry from the $85 I almost spent on a washable silk dress that was ok, but not great.
There is nothing quite liking how you look and knowing you paid almost nothing for it. I suspect the Good Will store will make its way onto my shopping list more frequently.
Grammy is an amazing gardener. Her green thumb is legendary. About as legendary as my black thumb. At the nursery, plants look at me and die on the spot. Packets of seeds jump out of my hands, eager to avoid the death sentence.
So, when Fish expressed interest in gardening, I sent her next door to the woman who can actually grow things. Grammy set up her with The Grow Box system. Together they planted tomatoes, green beans and watermelons.
My problem with gardening is that while I love fresh food, I can’t handle one more living thing being dependent on me for its survival. I manage to remember to feed the kids every day, mostly because they squawk if I don’t. Plants? Plants don’t speak up, they just wilt if you forget to water them. Then when I do water them, I never know how much is enough and frequently I drown them. Oops!
The Grow Box system seems to have eliminated those problems. The dirt bed is situated right above a tank of water. Keep the tank full and the plants will take what they need. Fish did a pretty decent job of remembering to fill the tank everyday and while she was at Girl Scout Camp between my husband and I we kept things wet. (Hat tip to my neighbor Cammy who kept us afloat while we were away for a week in mid-August). Fish was tickled when her labors bore fruit. I was too, because I LOVE fresh tomatoes.
We’re almost at the end of our harvest and all in all, I’d rule this experiment a success. We learned a few things such as beans and watermelons don’t share space very well and green beans taste best when they are picked when they about as long as an 11 year old’s hand. Any bigger and they are chewy. I’m thinking we’ll try again next year maybe even add a few boxes to the collection.
In the mean time please excuse me while I go finish the tomatoes.
It takes less than ten seconds for me to travel back to the fear, uncertainty and sadness that was September 11, 2001. Fish was 17 months old. A week after the attacks I sat down and began a journal entry for her. I wasn’t faithful to journalling at that time. Running a small web-design business and raising a toddler kept me away from my words, but I couldn’t NOT write. I emptied my head and my heart for about 8 pages, piecemeal, over the next month.
Ten years later, Fish is 11, smart and a sponge who loves to suck up knowledge. She craves details. She knows about the journal and I’m debating sharing it with her this year. It took me a while to locate the box with the canvas bound journal in the attic, but I knew I’d never have thrown it away.
I tell her about what happened as we knew it at that time. Some of my information is inaccurate, I quote a death toll of over 5,000. It would later be reduced to just over 3,000.
Some things I got right even then.
Reading my words, it all comes rushing back to me. The fear, the tears and the overwhelming sense of sadness. The feeling we as a country had been violated and had taken a turn for the worse. I’m not sure she’ll have the same reaction when she reads it. I suspect down the road after she has more life experience she’ll be able to better identify with my emotions.
We’ve discussed the events of 9/11/01 and even visited the Pentagon Memorial. Still, to Fish and Mim, it will always be history. Part of me would like to keep it that way. It was such a horrible experience, let it lie flat on the page of a history book. Making it real for them, to me means an end to their innocence. And yet, much of the state of our economy and foreign policy can be tied back to the events of that day. If they are to be educated citizens of the world, it is our job as parents to help them to understand what happened, why it happened and what the long term effects have been. My words do not equate to an academic analysis, but they are snapshot of the time.
I pray she and her brother NEVER have to experience anything close to 9/11, yet I know for that to happen, we as a country have to be educated and diligent.
Alternately Titled: How I Lost my Mother Of The Year Award
Fish is not a morning person. Actually, that’s not true, once awake, she can be bright and cheery, she just wakes VERY slowly. I joke that it is best to poke the beast and back away. Left to her own devices, she’d laze around in bed until 10am and stay up reading or educating her American Girl dolls until 10pm. Sadly for her, the “real world” intervenes.
This year Fish started middle school. Ours is a regional district (translation: looooooong bus ride to the middle and high school). A few days before school started, I checked the bus schedule and confirmed that the pick up would be at o’dark hundred.
Fish is very independent and probably could get out the door unassisted, but I remember HAVING to get out the door unassisted as a kid and it was stressful. I view my role at this age as supportive. If she needs something done, she asks me to do it, but she takes care of most aspects of the morning routine herself while I enjoy my tea and catch up on email.
The week preceding the beginning of school, I rousted her earlier and earlier each day. The day before school started, we had our annual Back-to-School Breakfast starting at 7am so we all had to be up and at ’em. That night, she packed her lunch and asked me for help picking out clothes. Excitement was in the air, but we all made it to bed and even to sleep, at a reasonable hour. We both set our alarms. The plan was that her alarm would be the initial poke and I would follow with a verbal reminder.
Good plan. Except her alarm didn’t go off and I some how snoozed mine twice. I came to at about 6:20, the bus was due at 6:40am. GAH!!! So much for the nice relaxing start to the first day of school. Amazingly, we pulled it together and got to the bus with about 30 seconds to spare.
Thankfully, Mim’s morning ran a little more smoothly. He awoke in a good mood, but as the time to depart for the bus grew near, he confessed to feeling nervous. We left in plenty of time and on the way down, to the stop, he asked to hold my hand. I love the feeling of a small smooth hand in mine. As he held on tight, he chattered about who he’d see and what he was going to do and say. At the first rumble of the bus, he let go. Once the red lights flashed, he gave me a “Bye Mama!” and took off without looking back.
I have four years of this split schedule ahead of me and I can already tell, that I’m going to enjoy the time alone with each child that it provides.
So, here I am again with much to talk about and the Universe willing, the time to talk about it.
It was a crazy summer for us. Fortunately, it was crazy in a good way. We were about a week late getting out of school due to snow days, so in a shortened summer we managed to squeeze, a birthday sleepover celebration, bike camp, family time at The Lake, a trip brief trip to The Cape for a visit with my family, a funeral, Lego Camp, a visit from our friends from Kansas, Girl Scout Camp, Theater Camp, NOAH Family camp and more time at The Lake with friends. My head spins just thinking about it all. It is the first summer neither of the kids were in a formal summer program. While we had days off here and there, Fish had only one week that was completely unscheduled. Mim had two. I was unsure what to expect and frankly nervous without the safety net of the summer program for Mim, but both kids did well and I didn’t even lose my mind .
The kids started school August 23rd. I’m sure to some people that seems late, but most schools in the Northeast don’t start until after Labor Day. We’re early even in comparison to other local districts. Ours is a regional district at the middle and high school levels. Some or our contributing towns are fairly rural. If the buses can’t make it down those roads, school is cancelled. The school board has to plan for worst case scenario when it comes to snow days, so it is back to school we go.
The kids were excited to see their friends and start in their respective new classes (UGH I have a child in middle school). I am excited to regain a few hours out of my day. I hope the extra time will show here.
Fish is a Girl Scout Camp for the next two weeks. This is my first email to her. Yes, EMAIL! My how times have changed. The camp offers this service where you buy tokens and can send email messages to your camper. It is a one way service, so I wait by the mailbox for her letters detailing her adventures.
Dear Fish,
I hope you are having a great time. I’m betting even you got to sleep later than I did this morning.
My loyal sentry
Dory started whining at 6am. I sat up, one eye open and realized she was losing a staring match with Winnie. I told them both to knock it off and tried to get back to sleep. Dory would have none of that, so I got up and let her out. I stumbled back to bed and once again tried to get back to sleep. Within a few minutes, Dory ended up on the front porch barking her head off. It wasn’t a bark I’d heard before, she didn’t sound hurt, but she sounded angry. So I went BACK downstairs to check on her. I didn’t see anything unusual, and just wanted her to stop barking, so I made her come in and come back upstairs with me. I did manage to get back to sleep but then the cat had the nerve to move and Dory started whining again. By then it was 7, so I just got up. I went downstairs, let Dory out and started my tea. Almost immediately, Dory started barking again. The next two hours were a back and forth of me letting Dory out and her barking at something towards the driveway and me letting her back in again and so on and so on. I kept thinking whatever was in the woods would move on.
On one of my trips to scold the dog, I looked out the door at the end of the hall and saw something in the driveway. My first thought was a turtle, but if it was a turtle it was one honkin’ turtle!
The serious threat to my security
I put on my flip flops and went outside to investigate leaving Dory in the house. No, it wasn’t a turtle, it wasn’t even alive. It was the back to Mim’s booster seat!!! I brought it inside and showed it to her, then sent her back outside and she hasn’t made a peep since!
I hope you are having a great time at camp. We miss you!
“I think we should replace your car.” He said. I had just lugged the last of the groceries in while he finished up a business call and was transferring the pile of chicken quarters I bought on sale, to the freezer. “Um, ok.” I kept on putting groceries away. He outlined his reasoning and as he spoke, it became apparent he meant we should replace my car that day!
It wasn’t a total shock, we’d be talking about it off and on for a few months. His truck and my Honda CR-V were very close in age. Mine had decidedly more miles and wear an tear and was starting to show it’s age. Nothing insurmountable, just some squeaks. With a minimal amount of TLC, it would easily give us at least another 60,000 miles or about 2.5 years the way I drive.
Without a car payment, I was enjoying watching our savings grow every month and REALLY liking the lower insurance and lower tax bills. Still as my husband shared his thoughts, it did seem to be a good idea to at least look more seriously.
I had done research online and narrowed my choices to three cars. Were it not for the need for more space, I would have definitely purchased another CR-V. I loved that car and it served me well. The redesign added a bit of space and I liked the new look, but as the kids have grown, our needs have changed.
Needs analysis
We are an active family. We bike, we ski, and I kayak. In the summer, we spend our weekends up at the lake and that means lugging coolers, bikes, kayaks, buckets of clothes, the dog and assorted guests. That time is family time and to me, that includes the trip. We have gotten to the point where we needed to take two cars and that takes some of the fun out of it. First criteria, was seating for at least six plus cargo space.
We live on a dirt road and New England winters and the mud seasons that follow can be brutal. The world doesn’t stop because it is snowing, so all wheel drive was another requirement. I’m frequently carting precious cargo, mine and other people’s kids, so safety was important too. Decent gas mileage was also high on the list. That said, one does not get seating for 6 and a V6 engine and get 35 mpg. The CR-V got 20-21mpg local driving and closer to 24 on the highway. I knew I was going to take a hit in this department.
I am a function over form person. Thus why I spend my life in jeans and danskos 🙂 I don’t really care about appearances, I am more concerned with how things work. I spent some time on ConsumerReports.org and talked with friends who had the vehicles I was interested in. It came down to the Ford Flex, the Honda Pilot and the Toyota Highlander.
I have friends who have all three cars. I even had a chance to drive a Highlander under real world conditions. It has a smooth ride and handles well, but there are cargo issue with all the seats occupied. You can have people or cargo, but not both. A friend who got the Flex a few months ago just raved about how much she could carry even when she had extra passengers. The Pilot was the car I knew the least about.
The Ford Dealer was first geographically. Keith met us and listened to our requirements. He also talked to ME. A rare experience with a car salesman. It’s my car dammit. My husband has some input, but the bottom line is I’m the primary driver. From the get go, Keith got that and addressed my interests and concerns. He showed us the Flex and also the new Ford Explorer. “It’s ugly.” My husband said of the Flex. “It’s smooshed.” I said of the Explorer.
Keith lead us to the other side of the lot and showed us a few pre-owned cars including a 2009 Flex that was loaded with features, I’d never go out of my way to pay for, but are nice to have in a car.
We drove the Flex first and everyone, (we took the kids on this expedition), loved it. Even my husband said, “It is still ugly, but I don’t have to look at it from the inside.” We took the Explorer and before we even left the lot, my husband predicted I’d hate it. I tried to keep an open mind, but he was right. The sight lines were awful and because it was more contoured, it had less space than the Flex.
We went into this with our eyes open. We’d done our research, we knew the prices of the cars we were looking at, what my CR-V was worth and we also knew the pre-owned versions of all three models were hard to come by. A-Man and I talked and eliminated the Highlander from the equation because of space. Of my original choices, we were down to the Flex and the Honda Pilot. We knew if we wanted THIS Flex, we had to move pretty quickly. Keith wasn’t pushy, he didn’t have a mythical buyer waiting for the car, but we knew it wouldn’t be around long. Still, I wanted to at least drive the Pilot, due diligence and all that.
Auto Fair has both a Ford and a Honda Dealership, so we all piled into the Flex and drove over to Honda to test drive a Pilot. Driving the Pilot was like driving a larger CR-V with more pick up. I knew where all the controls were, it handled exactly as I expected. I liked it. When we got back to the lot, we parked the two side by side and started to dismantle the Pilot. We put the seats down and took a good look at the space.
Hands down the Flex had more useable space. Pre-owned meant less money, and because it was two years old, it would also mean slightly lower insurance and taxes. The Flex had all the things we wanted plus leather seats, a fantastic sound system, sun roofs (four of them!), the Sync system (digital media and blue tooth) and it the sticker was about $8,000 less than we’d budgeted for a new car.
Auto Fair made us a fair offer for my car and they also wiggled a little on the cost of the Flex. It was a good transaction. If it had come down to buying a new Ford Flex vs. a new Honda Pilot, I suspect I’d have gone with the Pilot. My cursory research showed me we’d get more bang for our buck with the Pilot, but THIS Flex was just too sweet of a deal to pass up.
On the way home, my daughter pipes up, “I like it, but it sort of looks like a hearse.” I laughed out loud, because you know what? She’s right. A few days later as I was carpooling to chorus, one of her friends said, “It looks like a limo.”
We’ve had it three weeks and it is exactly what I wanted in a car. It carries 7 comfortably, and handles well. Call it what you want, I love it.
We call her Lexi
I wrote this post to share my experiences. I was pleased with the transaction with liked working with Keith Osowski an Auto Fair. I did not receive any compensation. If you are in the market for a Ford, contact Keith at first initial, last name @autofair.com and tell him I sent you 😉
Whew! I’ve missed this place! I can’t believe it has been more than a month since I’ve written here. Worse, other than cursory emails, I really haven’t written for the last month. UGH!! I’m feeling constipated with words.
This time of year is always crazy. Since my last entry, we’ve had a boy’s birthday, a man’s birthday, the End of The Year Ceremony for the Girl Scouts, lots of Karate, a school, and two IEP meetings and a bunch of other year-end activities.
This month has been extra nuts as my mother has some medical issues and I am trying to help from an hour an a half away. Yes, I am an exhausted member of the sandwich generation, those of us caring for aging parents and growing children. Yee Haw!!
I have heaps of things I want to share with you. I’m optimistic I’ll regain now that summer vacation is in full swing. I can’t claim 2 hours a day like Wendy, (her kids are older than mine), but I’d be happy with a few hours a week.
I checked the calendar this morning, and we only have one week during the summer where nothing is scheduled. My son has a second solo week while my daughter is at Girl Scout camp. Other than that, we have something all or part of every week.
It’s not as bad as it sounds, we’re not booked solid, just booked steady. I’m actually kind of excited, the kids have lot’s of cool activities lined up. My son has a bike camp, both kids are going to Lego camp, my daughter the, the aforementioned Girl Scout Camp, and we are traveling to Pennsylvania for our second visit to a camp for families affected by albinism. We’ll keep going to karate and skateboarding and spend some time at the lake too.
I suspect the days Will crawl but the summer will FLY!
I promise I’ll be back soon, but until then, here’s a photo summary of where I’ve been for the last month.
About two weeks ago, I had a REALLY bad Monday. My dear friend C was there throughout the day to lend an ear and provide support and wisdom. Well, what goes around comes around and all that, her Friday was worse than my Monday AND, her Friday went on for 4 days. Truthfully, the matter still isn’t really resolved, she’s just at a lull in the chaos. but I digress.
I had items I’d borrowed from C and her family that needed to be returned and I was picking up a few things for her at Trader Joe’s. I thought I’d throw together a chicken pot pie and drop that off too. I made the pie in between homework and dinner prep and then cooked it after dinner. When it was done, I pulled it out of the oven and left it sitting on a cookie tray on top of my stove to cool. As you can see, it never made it to C’s house. With apologies to Clement Moore, here is the tale.
‘Twas the night before delivery when all thought the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The borrowed items were stacked by the door with care in hopes I’d remember them and not leave them there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of play with grandparents danced in their heads.
With husband at the bar enjoying a beer, I collapsed in my chair in search of some cheer.
When out in the kitchen there arose such a clatter, alas, I was too tired to rise to see what was the matter.
Eventually I dragged my sorry self up and puttered to the kitchen to see what had gone amok
The light o’er the sink cast a dim illumination giving me very little information.
What did wondering eyes find on the floor? Why a chicken pot pie that now was no more.
With the pie upside down and gone kersplat, I knew in a moment, it must be the cat!
More rapid than eagles, the curses they came, and I screamed and I shouted and I called her by name.
!@$%! Winnie, !#$% cat!, and trust me there were more! Oh Phooey, I’m pissed and just look at the floor!
To the cleaning closet, I stormed, to grab this and that. Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away Cat!
Live Fearless Lee 