Maui: Days 1 & 2

We had such a smooth day travelling to Maui yesterday! Got up early at the motel near the Oakland airport and took their shuttle over to the airport -- it was pouring and it didn't make me feel very sorry about leaving CA! I'd been nervous about our flights because we were booked on an airline I'd never heard of before -- North American -- but it turned out to be great! Once we found our way past the huge Sun Trips check-in line, we walked right up to the NA counter, then went through security and soon boarded our plane. The flight was uncrowded and we had a whole row (6 seats) to ourselves, and we rented a little digital TV thing so the kids were able to watch "Shark Tale" and "Racing Stripes." Will and I took a nice nap as well. And when we got off the plane and went to the baggage claim, our bags were already waiting for us!

Our rental is yet another crappy GM minivan -- I didn't even know Oldsmobile *made* a minivan! -- but it's getting us around just fine. And after killing several hours with very tired, bored kids (we landed at 10:30 am and couldn't get into our condo till 3, so we hit Costco and KMart, ate lunch at Cool Cat Cafe in Lahaina and shopped at Hilo Hattie's as well), we drove to the Papakea resort where we are staying. The condo is functional other than a kind of scary spiral staircase up to the loft where the kids sleep, but it's all very comfortable and the grounds are just beautiful. Ryan took the kids in the pool while I went grocery shopping and got the condo organized -- then we had our Costco roast chicken for dinner and the kids were in bed early. We watched "Survivor" and "CSI" and then hit the sack. I'm surprised we made it that long, having been up since 5 am Pacific time!

Not surprisingly, we were all up by 5 am Hawaii time this morning. We killed several hours hanging around, eating breakfast and hanging out, and then I made a quick trip to Longs before we packed up a picnic and went over to Airport Beach, where we spent a lot of time last time we were here. We were a little dismayed at how high the tide was and the roughness of the waves compared to last time, but there was a storm fairly recently, and that definitely affected things. For a while, poor Ryan made the kids stay close to shore, convinced he was going to lose one of them in the water. We go through this every time we go to the ocean. Ryan grew up taking all of his vacations at the ocean but never actually swimming into it, and if he had his way, the kids would stand at his sides, holding his hands and not going in past their ankles. This was never going to work since a) these kids like the ocean and b)the waves were crashing so hard on the beach that it was actually safer out further, beyond where they broke. I know it's counter-intuitive, but it's the truth, and it took me a while to convince him, but once I did, it was good. Out in the water was the clincher that I need to go on a diet -- my butt actually functions as a floatation device. That's great when you are floating in the ocean, but since I don't spend all that much of time time floating, I'd like to do something about it. Will work on that when I get home!

Anyway, the beach is great -- except for the sand. That shit gets *everywhere*. It gets in places you might never have thought of! I certainly never anticipated being in a beach rest room, standing in front of my 10YO daughter and encouraging her to spread her personal parts out so I could pour water from a water bottle on them :-/ Poor kid. She seemed to feel a lot better afterward though, so it was worth it. When we returned to the beach, Ryan and Will had also had enough, so we snacked a little, packed up, and headed home to our condo. It was almost noon!

We rinsed off, ate lunch, vegged a bit, then went out to the pool, which is really nice -- warm and with a tile-bottom so your feet dont get chewed up. We were out there maybe an hour, then we came back to the condo. Ryan took the kids down to the putting green they have here for a bit while I napped, then Will and I went out to get pizza and salad for dinner while Ryan watched the Kings defeat Seattle on TV. Now the kids are in bed (Will was sleeping by 6:30 and was in bed by 7:30) and Ryan and I are out on the balcony (I refuse to call it a "lanai" like everyone else around here). I asked him if he wanted to watch a movie but he said he wouldn't make it through one. So I suppose he'll be heading to bed soom, and maybe I will too. In spite of my nap, I'm feeling pretty punchy. We discussed plans for tomorrow and have already decided we will make less of a production of going to the beach tomorrow -- we won't worry about packing a lunch and all, and we'll go early and plan to come back and eat here. Not sure if we'll go back to the same place.

Laundry to fold!

Weird Nights

I've been have night sweats where I wake up drenched, and it sucks. This has been going on for more than a year, only before it was maybe once or twice a month, and now that I'm on medication that's supposed to control this and other hormonal issues, it's happening more like twice a week. Or more. Blech.

Last night, in addition to waking up drenched in my own sweat, I also got a nosebleed. I think it was related to my nose ring -- maybe I was rubbing my nose and the end of it poked me somewhere up in my nasal cavity and made it bleed. All I know is that as I was waking up, I had a vague sense that something was wrong in my nasal area, and the next thing I knew, my one nostril was a faucet and I used tissue after tissue to catch the flow and finally ended up going back to sleep with one wadded up and crammed up my nose. Very lovely. When I woke up, it looked like someone had been murdered on my side of the bed, so I'm washing my sheets. Just what I have time for this morning.

This week I had two dreams where I still lived at 83 Ryegate Place, the home I grew up in. Which naturally takes me back to the question I often have of how and why my dream-brain has gotten stuck, sort of, in my childhood. One of the dreams I had this week was about the hens coming to visit -- only I lived at home with my mom and that's where we all came to stay. It was like Ryan and the kids didn't exist. And sometimes I have dreams where they do definitely exist, and I still live on Ryegate, and they live -- I don't know, it doesn't come up. I've even had dreams where I seem to be in high school and I'm dealing with getting to class on time, whether I have homework or if I can remember the combination to my locker or there's a cute guy I'm all excited about -- but I'm also stressing about finding a babysitter for the kids so I can actually go to school. Very weird. I've always wondered why my dreams are still stuck in San Ramon. Maybe because I still "experience myself" as a teenager, as my therapist talked about? I don't know. Still curious though.

Exercise

I've been working my ass off (would that I meant that literally!) exercising this week, even though my allergies are killing me. Monday, I walked on the treadmill for 45 minutes and lifted weights (abs and upper body). Tuesday, 45 minutes on the elliptical trainer and weight lifting (abs and lower body). Yesterday I ran three miles and did abs, and today I took an hour-long stability ball class that just about killed me. During the last 15 minutes, the teacher had us in constant motion to get our heartrates up, so I even got some cardio in.

Tomorrow is a day off. We're skipping the gym and going shopping :-)

The Dog

Buster is surprisingly clever sometimes, but this day wasn't one of those times. He could tell I was going to be going out soon and didn't want me to find him and put him in his crate.

And More

12. Cold Blooded by Carlton Smith
13. The Ladies of Missalonghi by Colleen McCullough (BC, *)

Currently working on two more -- one parenting-type book that will probably take a while to slog through, and also a book about a 70s commune for one of my book clubs.

50 Book Challenge

11. The Clique by Lisi Harrison

I generally like young adult fiction but the above kind of sucked. The true crime book I'm currently reading does too. But I'm going to start reading two more books this weekend, one of which is something I've read before, which I'm reading again for book club, and it's a good one, so at least I know I'm guaranteed one good read in the next few days. Although I would still argue I shouldn't have to read something I've already read to read something good. It's annoying that all these books are turning out to be kind of crappy lately :-/

I'm not saying everything with which I've ever festooned a vehicle makes tons of sense or anything, but... why exactly would anyone want to put, on the back of a perfectly nice-looking car, a sticker with a picture of a monkey that says "I Fling Poo"? Is there any logical explanation for this? I think not.

More for the 50 Book Challenge

9. Final Gifts : Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying by Maggie Callanan & Patricia Kelley (BC, *)
10. High Fidelity by Nick Hornby (*)

Now I get to pick something new to read! I have a true crime book, a Tuesday Next sci-fi thing, a teen novel, and a couple of other things to choose from...

This may be a new record in lack-of-blog-updating, even for me. But it's been a busy-ass couple of weeks. Last weekend my friends were here and it was pretty much an eat-, drink-, laugh-, sing- and shop-fest for three or four days. Lots of fun, and we got to spend it with Mr. E, the world's cutest baby! A true humdinger of a Cluckfest.

Some total asshole stole Rachel's bike last weekend. I hope whoever did it gets big painful boils all over their face and private parts.

My friend Janine's mom died on Monday morning. I met her once and she was a lovely, nice lady. I know Janine and her boys are really missing her, and I've been thinking about them pretty much constantly this week.

I managed to chop up the pad of my right index finger when I was trimming the bushes with electric hedgeclippers on Wednesday afternoon. Thanks for Sue for coming over, calming me down, cleaning up the blood I dripped all over the place on the front porch, and driving me to the doctor's office. And to think just the day before, I'd been lecturing her about being too available and dependable for her crazy friends!

Thursday I was part of a committee who interviewed speech therapists for the school district. It was very interesting and I kind of enjoyed it. I'm still curious about how I made the list of special-ed parents who were asked to participate though.

Ryan hurt his tailbone and has been complaining about it a lot this week. I don't blame him -- I've suffered through that particular malady before and it really sucks.

This week I "had it out" with my parents in a pretty major way. We aren't really the kind of family that does that kind of thing, so I gave it a lot of thought beforehand, and then when I did speak to them, I did it by email, which seems kind of wussy, but just thinking about what I wanted to say got me crying so I decided it was best to do it that way. The basic issue is that for several years I've felt like we don't get to spend very much time with them. It seems like they are always doing things with other friends, other relatives, everyone but us, and over the years I've had my feelings hurt over specific incidences of this happening more times than I can remember. I was afraid that my mom wouldn't take it well, but in the end I'm glad I spoke up. Both of my parents agreed that we all don't see each other often enough, and they both assured me that seeing us is as important to them as seeing their friends. I also found out that my mom is really, really stressed over everything that's going on with my grandma right now, and so I feel bad to have dumped my issues on her right now, but on the other hand, now that I know about it, I can step up and do some things to help out, and being left out of these kinds of things has been another frustration of mine. So ultimately I think it's a good thing I spoke up. The kids and I will be going down there to see them tomorrow -- I'm going to help my mom shop for some things for my grandma's new place, and the kids will spend the day with my dad.

On the way down, we will stop in to see my brother's fiance and her sister so I can try on the bridesmaid dress they ordered for me: http://www.maxstudio.com/website/product_pages/4308g57/section_category_sale_dresses-8-jad_main.htm I'm taking my bag of push-up bras and magic underwear, and hopefully I won't look like a total cow in it!

Okay, two hours is probably long enough to have sat on my ass with the computer...

To the Guy I Ran Off the Road This Morning

I'm sorry.

I was turning left. You were going straight and had the right of way. I was paying no attention and just turned right into your path, causing you to swerve up on to the curb and coming to a sudden, rocking stop. You looked terrified and stunned.

It was completely my fault, and I can't apologize enough. If there'd been anywhere for me to stop and lean out the window, I would have called out an apology to you and let you spew profanity at me for a few minutes. But I was behind you and already blocking traffic, so I had to drive on, and I wasn't even able to make eye contact.

It was completely my fault and I suck. I was talking to my friend in the passenger seat and not paying attention to my driving when I should have been. I am so glad you didn't hit anything or get hurt. If someone had done to me what I did to you, I would hate them forever. I hope you tell everyone you see today how some total moron almost killed you this morning, and how they should watch out for the chick in the white minivan.

Again, I'm sorry. I hope the rest of your day goes a lot better.

50 Book Challenge

I just read about this online challege to read 50 books in a calendar year. Sounds like fun! I read a lot anyway, usually in the range of 1-2 books a week when I'm in a "reading mood," so it's possible I could do double the 50-book goal, but then I let reading go by the wayside quite often as well, so I do think 50 books is a good goal. Being in two book clubs will help with diversity of selection -- otherwise the whole list would probably be made up of true crime books *blushing*

This will be my first entry. Hopefully I can remember pretty much everything I've read so far this year. I will note which ones are book club selections (BC) and which ones I'd recommend (*).
1. The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (BC,*)
2. The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell (BC)
3. All She Wanted by Aphrodite Jones
4. The Amateur Marriage by Anne Tyler (BC)
5. The Art of Mending by Elizabeth Berg (BC)
6. Breaking Her Fall by Stephen Goodwin (*)
7. The Sweet Potato Queen's Field Guide to Men by Jill Conner Browne (*)
8. The Birth of Venus by Sarah Dunant (BC)

Right now I'm reading Final Gifts : Understanding the Special Awareness, Needs, and Communications of the Dying by Maggie Callanan & Patricia Kelley, which is also a book club selection. Next will probably be another true crime book.

William

Yesterday I yanked another one of his front teeth out, at his request. He said it hurt, but he didn't cry. I have to admit, I'm impressed. Between the tooth-yanking thing him learning to ride his bike (and always recovering quickly on the occasions he falls off), he's been pretty tough lately, and generally that's not a word I would use to describe him.

Inertia

He's home "sick" today. And sadly, I think I let him stay home in large part because *I* was feeling lazy, and I knew that if both kids went to school, I would have to get dressed, ride my bike to the gym, and take torture (otherwise known as stability ball) class, then after having coffee with Sue, ride my bike home BUT if he stayed, home, I'd get to sit on the couch with my laptop all morning. Which is exactly what I've done. I've *thought* about going out to the car to retrieve my yoga mat and then using it to do my yoga tape, but so far I haven't actually done that. Nor have I paid the bills, something I wouldn't even have to get off the computer to do. Instead I've been sitting here reading random blogs and chatting with my not-so-talkative friends while Will watches TV and fondles himself. Someday that boy will learn to keep his hands out of his pants when others are about. But I suspect it won't be today, because we're both being way too damn lazy for something that productive to occur.

I know I will feel A LOT better about myself after I do something on my mental to-do list, so why is it so hard to actually get moving?

Autism is a fact of life in our house, and I finally learned to that it was okay to laugh about it, thanks to my friend Judy, who also has a child with autism. When she told me sometimes answered the phone "Judy's House of Autism!" and talked about having "the auties" in the backseat of her car, I busted out laughing. And guess what? The sky didn't fall and no one was struck dead and crispy by a thunder bolt. It doesn't mean I don't take my child's disability seriously, and I'm not making fun of my child -- I'm just finding the occasional silver lining on the cloud. So thanks for that, Judy.

Last night at Bunko, Gerri, a woman I don't know very well but whose husband's softball team played Ryan's last summer, asked me if my daughter was playing softball this spring, and I said no. I don't go around explaining Rachel to the whole world -- for instance, if she says something weird when we're checking out at the grocery store, I don't whisper "she's autistic!" to the checker or anything -- but usually I do mention it to people I'm acquainted with, especially other parents, with whom I talk about parenting things. So I continued, saying she didn't really play team sports, and then, "she has autism." For some weird reason, this met with peals of laughter from my two other friends, Sue and Jeannie, who were sitting there (in their defense, we were all a little drunk), and Sue goes "that's a sport in itself!" And we all cracked up (though Gerri looked a little uncomfortable). Anyway, it was fun. It was nice to be among friends who know my sense of humor and who I know are fond of Rachel but understand our struggles too. Sometimes all you can do is have a laugh, you know?

In related news, yesterday afternoon, Rachel freaked out about doing her homework -- it was very nearly a visit to the "Vortex of Indecision" where we used to go almost every day -- and I thought "oh shit, spring's here!" I made an appointment for her to go to the doctor so we can talk about upping her anti-depressant and get her on an antihistamine. I really hope we can get through the rest of this school year without too much disruption -- I know it's probably too much to hope for for her to do as well as she did last year, in such a structured classroom, but I'm hoping she's matured enough in the last year or two that she at least do better than she did two years ago, when she kept getting sent to the principal's office :-/

The Oscars

Yeah, I know, everything there is to be said about the Oscars has already been said, and most people don't care anyway. But I'm going to talk about them because this is my damn blog and I feel like it.

We watch the Oscars every year, and this year I was actually kind of excited about it for a while because it seemed like some actual good movies were nominated for some awards. Then I got sick of all the hype and if Ryan had said to me a few minutes before it started "Let's rent a movie instead," I would have been fine with that. Then the stupid show started and I was glued to the set for the next three hours (except when I went to the store to get some dinner).

General comments: The actresses are all too skinny. Messy hair looks... messy. Dear Renee Zellwegger: have you ever noticed that people start talking about how great you look whenever you're carrying some of that "extra" Bridget Jones weight around and then we are start saying you look like a scarecrow with fish lips when you lose it again? Oh, I don't know -- just thought I'd mention it. I seriously thought Penelope Cruz was Salma Hayak and vice versa, up until the one I thought was Salma left the stage and then Ryan said something about Salma's hair and used the power of Tivo to prove to me that it was Penelope who left the stage. Can't stand either of them so it doesn't make a whole lot of difference, I guess.

Hilary Swank's dress was a cool idea, but the front needed to be executed a lot better for me to give it a thumbs up. I liked her hair though. Take the dress from her first Oscar win and the hair from her second and you've got a pretty awesome look overall. I didn't like the short spiky hair on her the first time around and I liked it even less on Annette Bening this year. Maybe Annette thought that's what made the difference the last time around and adopted it for herself.

I hate to agree with Kathy Griffin's E! Fashion Police opinion about anything, but I thought Imelda Staunton looked pretty awesome too. So did Kate Winslett. So did that actress from "Maria Full of Grace" who was supposed to be so great but who we'll probably never see again. Okay, doesn't Gwyneth Paltrow probably keep, like, a stable of stylists around her, and couldn't one of them make sure she wears a dress that is flattering to her bust to the Oscars one of these days? By my count, we've now seen her wear way too big (the year she won), way too small (this year), and way more than I wanted to see (the year of that black mesh diaster). Aside from that, her hair looked flat and boring. This woman is a fashion icon?

Scarlett Johanssen's hair looked fuzzy to me. Maybe a little less peroxide?

Wait, there were men there? I guess nobody much cares since it's not as fun to ask "who" they're wearing when one tux looks pretty much like all the rest of them. I will say that Johnny Depp looked ridiculous. It's not that much fun to make fun of him for that, though, because "ridiculous" may well have been exactly what he was going for.

I'm not even going to say much about who actually won awards, since I didn't see hardly any of the movies that were nominated. I'm just going to whine about my biggest pet peeve, which is that the two screenplay awards have become more a consolation prize than anything else. It seems like most years there's a movie that gets all kinds of Oscar buzz and is intelligent and usually a comedy, and everyone seems to love it but in the end it's just not as big and flashy and dramatic as the eventual winner, and the next thing you know, the smaller buzzworthy movie has lost all the acting awards, and director and best picture -- forget it -- but the screenwriter goes home with a little gold guy and hey, that's a prestigious one too, right? Only -- come on. How many times has this happened? This year it was *twice* -- people peed themselves over "Sideways" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" (both comedies, it must be noted), and they got all kinds of press and have won all kinds of other awards prior to the Oscars, but on the big night -- oh, sorry, we don't want you to go home empty-handed, so here's the writing prize. Last year, I didn't begrudge "Lord of the Rings" a single award it won and I didn't even like "Lost in Translation" all that much, but it was the same story -- one was big and one was little. And the most egregious example I can think of was the year that big bloated piece of crap "Titanic" won almost everything it was nominated for (it wasn't even nominated in the Original Screenplay category, which to me is evidence that there may be a God) while "L.A. Confidential" went home with a screenplay award and Best Supporting Actress for Kim Basinger (!?!).

Don't get me wrong -- I absolutely think the screenplay awards *should* be prestigious. If I were to win an Oscar, a screenplay award is the one I would want to win, and the films that win them do tend to be really well written, so at least there is some justice there.I'm glad Charlie Kaufman won an Oscar because the guy is just brilliant -- he writes some of the only movies I've ever seen where I sit there halfway through them thinking "I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen next!" I was similarly happy when whoever adapted "Sideways" won, because that movie was incredibly funny.

The problem is that both of those movies deserved to win other awards too, not just the consolation prize. I think the fact that these really cool but not big and flashy enough movies win screenplay awards but not usually much else, even if they get tons of nominations, is symptom of just about everything that's wrong with movie-making these days. For me, it all begins and ends with the script -- I don't care if the scenery and special effects are any good if I don't buy the storyline, and the most brilliant acting performance just suffocates under the weight of bad dialogue. I probably sound elitest and all, but I don't care. Drama or comedy, it has been be well-written if it's going to get my stamp of approval. And in my perfect world, the screenplay awards would be the most important awards they gave out.


Anyway, those are my Oscar thoughts. Or the ones I can think of right now, anyway.

Being Completely Stupid, or Why I'm a Bad Mom

This evening I had one of those situations that just makes you feel like the biggest pile of crap ever. The other day, Will went up to Ryan and said he had hiccups and needed to be scared. I have no idea of Ryan yelling "BOO!!!" at him a few seconds later actually made his hiccups go away, but for some reason when I was going upstairs this evening I was thinking about that and I decided to sneak up on Will and give him a scare. I determined he was in the "new room" with the door closed, listening to Beatles music, and even maybe dancing around some, so I burst in and yelled "BOO!!!" as loud as I could.

At which point my sweet baby spun around with a horrified expression on his face and burst into tears.

Now, I know better than this. It wasn't too long ago that we were watching a Kings' game and when Mike Bibby sank a three-pointer to tie the game right at the buzzer, Ryan and I both yelled "YES!!!" so loud that Will, who'd been sitting there playing with his K'Nex and minding his own business, shrieked in terror and sobbed. (And then they still lost in overtime.) So it's not like this sort of thing is without precedent, and I really don't know what I was thinking.

Of course I went right in and hugged him and apologized profusely, but I wasn't quite done trying to get myself off the hook, so I explained that I thought he might have hiccups so I decided to scare them out of him. He pointed out, through his tears, that you really need to check and make sure someone has hiccups before you do that too them, which of course is absolutely true and made me feel worse. I kept rubbing his back and finally said that I was just trying to be funny, and I realized that it was a mistake and apologized again, which he seemed to accept. Then I told him the great thing was that he got to pay me back and scare me sometime. Mr. Finesse that he is, he proceeded to do so three times within 10 minutes -- only once with much success -- at which point I told him he'd probably paid me back, and he agreed and seemed cheerful.

Anyway, another lesson learned. The kid is a little fragile. I won't mess with him like that again.

Soccer, or Why I'm a Bad Mom

My name is Tracie, and *sob*... my children don't play soccer!

We live in one of those towns where youth soccer is not just an activity -- it's a way of life. I suppose most suburban American cities like this anymore, but here in Davis, we don't do anything halfway. Therefore, it's pretty much expected that once a kid gets to be 5 or so years old, Mom is going to sign that kid up to play soccer. I managed to avoid this with Rachel due to her autism -- no one questioned it -- but now that William has been of soccer-playing age for two falls and I have yet to sign him up, I seem to get called on it more and more. My reasons for not signing him up are these:
1) I hate soccer.
2) My husband, who loves all sports, hates soccer.
3) Will hasn't asked to play.

I think these are good reasons. I think they are the only reasons I should need to get myself off the hook for not signing him up, and most people let it go with that, but on increasingly frequent occasions, parents I'm conversing with on the subject behave as though not signing my son up for soccer is a subtle form of child abuse, and I'm forced to trot out the rest of my reasons:
4) We don't, as a family, care to take time out of our weekends to go to soccer games and such. I don't mind weekday commitments and the occasional weekend event for Girl Scouts or Little League or something, but I just really don't want to have to plan every Saturday for several months around soccer games.
5) I played soccer as a kid and detested it, so it's not like my loathing of soccer just comes out of nowhere. I do seriously hate it, with reason.
6) Although Will is not really much of an athlete, he does play tee ball, and has asked to take gymnastics and tennis as well. If he wanted to play soccer, I'm sure he would ask to do so, but he hasn't. I have to assume that means he doesn't want to. Trust me, the kid is not shy about asking for what he wants.

Believe it or not, this still isn't enough to satisfy some of the people I've talked to. One mom completely blew off everything I had to say and kept arguing about how great it was. Well, I guess that's wonderful for her family and her kids, who I assume enjoy playing soccer. And if Will was chomping at the bit to play, I promise, I would sign him up. But for God's sake, I simply refuse to buy that there is something essential about playing soccer for any kid growing up in the suburbs, something so important that he or she is going to get out of it that the need to expend time, energy and money on it overrides things like the fact that the kid has no interest in playing and his parents don't really care to go there, all things being equal. It's a pair of cleats, a ball, and a net. I think he can learn just as much about sportsmanship and all that other good stuff playing some other sport that he's actually excited about playing.

I feel like rambling this morning, probably largely because none of my friends are online for me to ramble to. That's probably a good thing since I'm in this rambly mood.

Lots of stuff happened this week. In addition to me getting a bike and riding it all over the place, I also got my first ever traffic ticket, for failure to yield. I've been trying to decide if that's some kind of metaphor for my life. Anyway, I think it was kind of a BS ticket, as do all (three) of the people I've told about it so far. Ryan thinks I should fight it, and offered to go with me and argue my case. I gave that about 2 seconds of consideration, especially since he followed up his offer by telling me we probably wouldn't win. And what exactly would the point of that be?

My grandma is evidently in the hospital again, which is not good, of course. I need to call my mom and find out what's happening on that front, but I keep putting it off.

In much less important news -- the Kings traded Webber. Yee-haw! He's an excellent player for another team, but his presence has been throwing off the Kings' chemistry for close to a year now, and that amazing teamwork they have is what makes them great. I hope he goes and kicks butt for Sixers (not against the Kings) but sorry, I'm glad to see him go. Now our awesome guys like Bibby and Miller and Songaila and of course, my baby Peja, can really shine :-)

The sun is trying to come out today and I'm glad. Ryan was supposed to go to San Diego this weekend and he cancelled for a couple of work-related reasons that I didn't agree with and I was kind of annoyed about it, but I told him he needed to go play 18 holes of golf and he's planning to do that. I also promised the kids I would take them on a long bike ride and I'm going to do that too. I'd said Borders, but who knows -- depending on how well they do with it, maybe we'll go all the way to campus and hang out at the Coffee House for a while instead. That would be fun.

Tonight I'm going to Mom's Night In and will get to hang out with some friends I haven't seen much of lately, so that will be nice. Not sure about the concept of staying in rather than going out and why it would be superior, but I don't have little kids anymore so maybe that's part of it. And that's pretty much the whole agenda for this weekend. As opposed to next weekend, which is ridiculous (scrapbooking with my aunt Ann and the Girl Scout cookie site sale Friday, helping to set up for the Montgomery Auction, the Auction before-party and the Auction itself on Saturday, going bridesmaids dress shopping on Sunday) and the following weekend, when the Hens will be here (yay! I heart that!). I really have a tremendous amount to do in the next two weeks and I should probably wrap my brain around that, but at this point I'm mostly thinking about going shopping for something to wear to the Auction next weekend and other silly things like that.

Speaking of the Auction, I've got paperwork to do and I suppose it's time to make myself useful so I should really get to it...

The Dog

Everyone should have a creature who loves them as much as Buster loves me. This morning he whined at our door and woke us up, which was fine and made sense, since it was after 8:30 and we certainly prefer him coming to ask to be let out to decorating the carpet and he probably had to go pretty bad by then. I came downstairs and let him out, then went back upstairs to put on some sweats and slippers. The kids let him back in and he bounded back upstairs. Ryan was going back downstairs by then, but he came in demanded attention from me, so I had to sit down for a minute and rub his head and tell him he was a good boy before I changed my clothes. Then he sat at the top of the stairs waiting impatiently for me to come with him, went downstairs just ahead of me, looking back no fewer than three times to make sure I was following, then sat and waited for me on the couch, ears perked and looking somewhat forlorn while I made coffee. Now he is settled in against my thigh here on the couch and I really don't have the slightest doubt he would stay here all day, without moving, if I didn't move either. I find this all a bit weird because it seems like he's become somewhat clingier lately for not apparent reason. I mean, I know I'm his favorite -- there has been no doubt in my mind since the incident where he stole several pairs of my underpants out of the dirty laundry pile I left on the floor and absconded to his bed with them -- but we've had him for nearly five years and he used to be able to go up and down the stairs without making sure I was right behind.

He drives me crazy and I complain about it him all the time, but geez, it's hard not to respond to this kind of devotion. Sure, he barks, and he has the worst breath in dog history, and he acts pathetic, and we can't take him anywhere, and in the last few days he's unloaded such lethal gas that I worried my eyelashes might be singed off, but he's cute and cuddly, and recently when I was bitching about him in a chat room, my friend Judy said "you know you love that little shit." Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.

Sorry my new bike has been keeping me from updating my blog the last few days

Yeah, I know, I was lousy about updating even before I got the bike, but that's my excuse this week. Anyway, other than picking the kids up from school yesterday because I didn't want to listen to Rachel whining, I have maintained a strict policy of riding my bike anyplace I want to go in South Davis for the last few days, and yesterday I even ventured to the other side of the freeway into town. Had coffee and bought a couple of books at Borders, then came home. I love have a basket to carry things in! I love the ache I get in my thighs when I've ridden a ways! I love my bike! Yep, I'm seven years old again...