The "Eyes," Have It.

Thanks to my son, I've become a pirate. . . .

Long story shorter:

Last night, August was not feeling so hot.
Crying from his crib, I went to save the day.
With Keith out of town, and the time already nearing 11pm, I decided just to bring AJ to bed with me.
He kicked, he screamed, I put him in the shower and rubbed his back....

(side note-- my Chicago baby won't bathe unless he's in a shower.  He doesn't "get" baths.)

He calmed down and let me hold him for a bit.

Not 30 minutes later, he was kicking and screaming. Some milk and a few kind words, and he fell back asleep in the middle of my bed.

I decided the floor would be fine for me, just hoping to get a few hours sleep before my 5:30 wake up on the alarm.

4:00am, once again, screaming and thrashing.  The only excuse I can come up with is that he must be teething.  I roll over on the floor, hoping he'll soothe himself to sleep... and then
CRASH.
My world went white.
Eyes closed, curled up in a ball, August had rolled off the bed, his toes landing on my sleepy eyeball.
I couldn't even pick him up, I was in so much pain.
My kid clobbered me.

Thankfully, August was ok, startled, but my pillow and face protected him from the floor.

He was whimpering but fine.. I was stomping around the room grabbing my eye and crying.
I thought I was blind.

With ice pack in one hand, and baby still curled in the crook of my arm, we slept there, bruised and sick for an hour or so.

When the alarm rang in the morning, I still couldn't see. My eye wouldn't stop watering, and my vision was blurry.  I had to call in sick to work- which was a disappointment to say the least, but trying to teach with fuzzy vision sounded like a bad plan.

With family all busy, and new in town, I didn't know anyone who could drive me to the doc.
August and I made the slow journey to his daycare in my car- stopping to rub my eye and pulling over to cover the bad eye.

At the doc's office, I found out I have a mid grade corneal abrasion... basically, his foot cut my eyeball. It hurts BAD.

I called Keith in Milwaukee, and he came home to help save the day.
I'm on the mend, but will be wearing sun glasses inside for quite some time.

All I know is August would make an excellent soccer star.
My eye can tell you the tale.

Why No, I Didn't Fall Off The Face Of The Earth... Just Moved to WI.

Things are good.
Busy, but good.
First I had no internet access.
Then I was too tired, and too overwhelmed to write.
Big changes, happy and emotionally, but not socially full...
So much to get used to!

Looking forward to connecting with you all again soon.
I'll be a better blogger. I promise.
As my students say, "Pinky Swear."

Big love from the heart of Sun Prairie!

Beginning of the Beginning. Chicago Style with Corn...

This week has thankfully been much better than last week already.
Wednesday night I went and cut most of my hair off in response to the bird in the face....
I decided it was a pleasant end to a dreadful few days.

Through the rest of last week and the start of this one, Keith and I have begun the process of visiting the places and people we love.  Unfortunately, there are too many great people and places to see and share them all.  Our time table and budget can't take it.

As we ready the house and our overwhelming piles of stuff for our new adventure, we say, "so long," to Chicago as we've known it.

There is a little bit of melancholy in all the lasts.
Saturday Keith and I had our sixth anniversary dinner at Shaw's.  We shared fabulous oysters (didn't use to like those), martinis, and selections from the sea.  We chatted and talked about the future- as well as the oddity of having to leave things and loved ones behind in the process.

I am incredibly grateful for the time Chicago has given me and my family.  I have loved the long days in the sun, the walks through Andersonville with friends, and the shared excitement in festivals, parties and shows. The opportunities in both experience and food, and the family I've built here.

When I moved to Chicago, it was December 2002.  I graduated early from school in Kansas City Missouri with a theater degree. Keith came and picked me up in a UHaul.  (I was so eager to move, I skipped walking in my graduation ceremony. ) Keith and I rolled into town on a sunny but cold day - December 18th.  We drove our little UHaul with my meager possessions into Uptown to our first apartment together.  We spent two days in Chicago before heading to Wisconsin to see my family, then to Texas for Christmas.

In January, when we returned I hit the ground applying.... downtown padding the streets... steakhouse after steakhouse, I applied for positions waiting tables.  I was so excited, and naive.  I'd purchased the smallest purse possible- I didn't want,  "to get robbed on the el," my wallet is now bigger than that darn purse.

I began auditioning right away too.  I was told by one of Keith's friends who was an actress that it'd probably take me years to get a part in this town.  So, of course I was thrilled when I was cast in the first play that I auditioned for (oh, I got turned down for a bunch that week too- BUT, I should have known something was up).  I was cast in the play, "Dazed and Cornfuzed," at the Cornservatory.  (side note- dear young Chicago actors- run, screaming.)

I was cast as a dominatrix (fully clothed, not to worry), who's day job was as a barista at Starbucks.  I also had a lovely cameo as a dancing poo.

You read that right.

Poo.

Each day I worked waiting tables at Petterinos, (an upscale restaurant next to the Goodman- I had to wear a tux and bow tie. lame.), then would rush home, say hi to Keith, and jump back on the el for rehearsals.  The first time I went on the el to rehearsal- I accidentally took the purple line and ended up in Evanston.  Whoops.

When the show began, my parents came down to see me perform.  They of course were glowing with pride.....

that is, until they saw me as the poo.

Dressed in a trash bag, covered with fake corn attached to my bodice.
I shimmied and shook to the song, "Corn in my Poo."
You now understand why I am telling people to run away screaming right?
We were supposed to perform for 3 weeks, but probably only went on 10 times, since we had to have an audience of 5 to perform.
It was like pulling teeth.

I think I even made the poster.

As we leave the city, these are some of the things I'm leaving behind and raising up as an offering to all those just starting their journey.

More stories from the marks we've left on Chicago to come. . . .

Sleep well.

A Pantload of Horchata and a Bird in the Face.

That's right.  A description of my night last night.

Yesterday was great for all intensive purposes.  The house terms are final... we officially have all the details worked out.  Earnest money in, inspection and radon - check.  Negotiations complete.

Our new address will be coming to you all soon- we'll be moving August 4th, and signing the final documents on the 5th.  Craziness, yes.

This week has been an exercise in enthusiasm and continued belief in the positive things.

Monday August and I headed out to the doctor to check the staples in his head from last Friday...
On the way there, we got a flat tire.  After waiting for AAA to come, a good samaritan helped me put flat stop in the tire and get me to a service station.  I filled the tire and went in search of a place that could quickly replace my tire with the donut and get me on the way home so I could make school on time.  I found a great place- Acorn Tire, at the corner of McCormick and Lincoln.  Helpful gentlemen said they'd have me on the road in 30 minutes, and repair the tire by the afternoon.

Happily I crossed the street to get August some water to beat the heat.  Well, I got beat instead.  I tripped, while carrying August, and we both went down hard.  I tried to protect him on the way down, and the 10 second fall seemed like an hour of personal freak out- worried about his staples -please oh please don't hit your head baby.....

Knees and elbows bloodied, Kneecap badly bruised.  August, a small scrape and bump - -thankfully escaping with a minor scared cry.  Now shaking uncontrollably, I limp back to the tire store to tell them there is no rush, I need to get cleaned up, and want to get the baby checked by his doctor before I go to school.  Two bumps on the head is two too many in my opinion.

Needless to say, the rest of the day was a bit hectic.  Knees cleaned and bandaged thanks to the manager of the tire store.  August checked by doctor- he's great. Busy, but great. Tire repaired- thankfully, no need to buy a new one.  Home late in the afternoon, school missed. Geez.

So, then that night I noticed that the water stain on the baby's ceiling had grown.  I don't know where it's from, so I text the tenant upstairs... Turns out her ait conditioner has been leaking on the floor- the entire floor in her bedroom is warped, and the ceiling in our sons room has a giant water stain.  Great.  Just Great.  Keith changed out the ac for an old one of ours, we checked the now wavy floor, and retreated to our apartment.

So, we're cool.

Tuesday, we rest.  Go to school, limp around, negotiate the building. No roof fixing, no new water heater.... but they'll throw in a washer and dryer.  Fine. Deal. Stress, but deal.

Wednesday, morning is great!!! We get an estimate on the move, make a mess, and head to school.
Post school AJ and I have a dinner date with my friend Monica.  August throws a hissy in the restaurant, kicking and screaming (nothing was wrong), and refuses to sit at the table.  He sits under the table, throwing things and trying to run around the restaurant.  Needless to say it was hard to chat with Monica (sorry dear!).  Trying to calm August, I put him on my lap and he's kicking and screaming (again, nothing is wrong with him- he's fed, has water and juice, food to eat, and a great place to sit with toys and friends), in his anger, he grabs his Horchata and throws it all over us. My pants and underwear are soaked, the floor tiles are slimy, the baby bag full of ice, rice, and flavored milk.

The waitress ignores us.

Screaming baby, Horchata filled lap, horrified friend.  Calmly we wait for a to go container...
Packaged food, walk down the street. Kind goodbyes and apologies.
Walking towards car, giggling at my misfortune.

That's when the bird flew into my face.
Seriously.

Today's a new day, right?

Last week in Chicago- A picture diary.

I've been a bad little blogger, busily out in Chicagoland, running errands, sharing beverages and mothering to the best of my abilities.

Looking back, it's been a great week......in pictures.

August and Keith at "Aqua Babies."

Sunday, Aqua Babies started the week out with a splash.  

Monday- August and I began collecting notecards for school 

next year.  On the way, we happened by a park and enjoyed a ride

on a busy bee.  Monday night I packed my closet and most of our

kitchen.  

Tuesday after school some girls came over to make amazing creations. 

Here's an example of one of my students' pieces from summer school. 

We felted, fimo'ed, and raised a glass.  What fun! 

Yep.  That's me, and a pole, at Flirty Girl Fitness.  Kaytee Kavanaugh 

showed me the ropes as we twirled, swirled, and dropped it like it was hot.

Or in my case, luke warm. 

Still Wed, after dance class, I headed home through the West Loop.  

I passed this scene, and was inspired to stop and grab a picture of this 

lovely sunset.  

I also made a quick stop at Stanley's fruit market.  I love that place.

Thursday, August and I stacked foam for jewelry class, 

throwing a ball to knock it down, and starting again.

Thursday night Karyn, Kyle and I went to Ravinia, and literally

got "shuusssshed," into submission during the classical concert. 

I couldn't believe that so many people could sit completely silently

during the concert.  We headed to Fat Cat for a beverage and chat to 

soothe our souls. 

Uh Oh, that's right. Our first trama.  Courtney and her friend Elaine came to 

visit for the weekend.  First, we went out for a great German dinner at 

Lashettes. (So Fun!)  Not even home five minutes, August was at the table drawing 

(I was standing next to him), and he was standing on a chair.  Ten seconds later, 

he was on the floor with a little whimper, and when I picked him up, there was a pool 

of blood on the floor.  He'd caught the back of his head on the edge of our buffet. 

Thankfully Keith has had some head-wounds in our relationship, so I have seen how 

much they bleed.  He stopped crying almost immediately and started eating chips, so I 

knew he was going to be ok .  It was a gash about an inch long, and we kept a towel on it as we took him by car to the ER.  We went to Methodist at Ashland and Winnemac.  In less than 10 minutes at the ER, August got three staples in his little noggin and was ready to roll.  He was flirting with the nurses and trying to check everyone's tempwith the thermometer.  It was hard to see him hurt, but I'm so glad he is ok. Of course we came home and he was all over the house climbing right away.    

We went to the beach on Saturday. Someone tiny ran right into the water. 

He was so excited. On the way home, he refused to let me put a blanket or 

warm shirt on him.  Covered with sand and water, I took him home and let 

him run in the sprinkler. 

Later in the day, we ventured out to Margie's with Courtney and Elaine.

Courtney and Elaine hung out Sat and went home early Sunday.  It was so cool to be

able to hassle Courtney again, and to meet Elaine! 

Later in the day on Sunday, I went to a handbuilding pottery class.  It was exciting. 

Who knows how the piece will turn out when it's fired and glazed, but in the meantime, 

It made me want to learn more about pottery! 

This is the bottom of the basket. 

side 1

side 2 

side 3 

side 4. 

So, at week's end (plus one extra day), we've gone far and seen much.  

We swam, ran, ate, potted, swung, bounced, ice-creamed, and spent time with some fantastic friends. 

I'l be sad to leave all the excitement and opportunities behind, but in all honesty, it's Monday morning, 

and all I want is a nap.

Have a great week everyone! 

Rainy Day Snuggles.

August and I are laying in bed right now... nearly 3 hours into my Monday morning.  We're watching Sesame Street reruns and enjoying some honey bunny snacks.
I'm so happy just to be here with him.

I know all the things I should be doing- laundry, cleaning, packing eek! Sometimes it is hard to get motivated when just relaxing feels so good.

Bootcamp at 5:30 this morning took it out of me. I've been going for a week now, and my legs are so tired I feel like I could sleep for days.  After what seemed like 100s of laps around the track at the gym, more "burpies" than I could muster, and enough lunges to tighten even my butt, I came back home and opened the bedroom door to find a newly awakened baby... smiling.  Saying, "Hi," and extending both arms to reach me.

I picked August up and set him on the ground.  He immediately ran into the bathroom, turned around and smiled.  It was time for his morning shower.  I imagine that not many babies are so familiar with the experience of stepping into the shower, wetting his hair, and helping soap himself up.  He seems to really like it, and is just learning to dry himself off when he gets out.
It's amazing how fast time goes.

When he first stood up and walked into the bathroom, I tried to grab a picture of his cuteness.  The light was a soft blue and his tall frame was segmented only by a puffy little diaper.
The picture is nearly a minute later... the moment was gone, (by then he found my coffee cup) but these are the things that catch me.  His accidental beauty and excitement at everything.  I hope I can help him to keep some of that joy as he grows.  He adds joy to my life each and every day.

Now August is cooing at my computer screen, shrieking as the letters fill the screen.
He's laying his face on my fingers as I write and tapping the top of the screen. (seriously)
Now, he's crawled over my lap and is down the hall.
I guess snuggle time is over.

Here's a photo or two from swim class yesterday - I can't help but want to share.

The Adjustment Furrow (In My Brow)

It's interesting sometimes the things that grab you.

We just watched the Adjustment Bureau.  Good movie, fun to watch.
It reminded me of the moments that have caught me the last few weeks.

Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending "Authentic" by the Joel Hall Dancers at Victory Gardens.
Jen Samples was in the show, and was shaking it amazingly well. Go Jen, get your groove on!

I enjoyed the whole show, and was really taken with the numbers that Joel Hall choreographed himself.
Each piece was explosive... the energy like static electricity.  The first pieces, "El Gato Negro," featured dancers (all women but 2), in full suits with white shirts, hats and ties. (Very Adjustment Bureau come to think of it).  The piece was lit from the sides of the stage, allowing only partial light on the dancers.
As a group of four women began the piece, two turned away from the stage, showing their backs to the audience the whole time.... this shocked me.  I watched them more than the other dancers, fascinated by the fact that the dancers faces were obscured, and the movements were in synch, but so different that each dancer was highlighted.

I was on the edge of my seat.

At the end of the concert, the Joel himself came out and spoke about the title of the piece. . .
Authentic... one of a kind, unlike others, not afraid.  
I walked away from the show hoping I could be inspired to do new things and dance like I wanna.
Or, at least, gain a dancers body at the gym. sheesh.  The arms and backs. They're amazing!

On the way home later that night, I heard a live reading of some corny play on NPR. What stuck with me was a monologue of a character who had just had a stroke.  Her kids were all freaking out because she walked home from the hospital.  (Plausible, like all plays of course)... So, her kids didn't want her talking because they were worried that it would exhaust her.  She said something along the lines of you keep going and going until it stops... You can't worry about the stopping, so you just have to keep going.

And now, after typing... I forgot what struck me about Adjustment Bureau.  Maybe just that we have to make of life what we can, to keep going, and try not to be afraid.

Small things right?

Drumroll Please...

Signed, sealed, delivered, it's ours.

Here is the house, purchased today.

August 5th, it's official.
Keep your fingers crossed till then!
More updates soon.
Too tired to think!

Ta Da!! ? ? I hope.

So... promised updates on the home search.  We exhausted our feet, brains and spending power in a whirlwind tour of the homes available in Sun Prairie Wisconsin.

I feel very much like Goldilocks, as I may have found the, "just right." house for us.
I'll not post it now, so that in case things go astray, no further damage will be done to my blog-psyche.

House #1.

Upon arrival, August was first to notice a winning home feature- the pile of bricks at the side door. Vacant for over a year, this house was great looking on the outside, but lacked certain, "updates," to make it viable, "In the now." 

Once we were able to extract the baby from the brick pile, we were able to check out the inside. 

Blue carpet, floor to ceiling segmented mirrors, and a kickin' dance studio (complete with toe bar) greeted us.  It was a great layout, but had not had any love since the mid 70s or so.  Usually my style? Yes. A bit too much work... so it was off the list. 

The best feature of home #1, a mini drum set that August became quite enamored with. . . it was really cool. Second birthday present anyone?

House #2. 

Our real estate agent had some troubles opening the door... thankfully August was there to step in with a helping hand.  Once inside, oh.... wouldn't you like to know... for this is the one that may be, "it."

The house is nothing remarkable on the outside.  It is nice. Very nice -(don't let my real estate agent know) we like it nice- and I hope that we'll have some "news" soon... so keep those fingers crossed. 

Home #3. 

Pretty sweet at on the outside... College pad from the late 60s on the inside.  I liked the in-kitchen fireplace, but couldn't get down with the cat-pee smell and bright red carpeting in the basement. 

I wanted it to work out so badly, but there was no privacy- the backyard opened to a city park, and every house looked just like it. 

Abode #4

The front-runner, pre trip.  I couldn't wait to see it. 

Then, up close, I saw it.. The real estate agent coined the, "Silence of the Lambs Basement." 

That sort of ruined it for me. 

Dwelling #5. 

Colossal freak out by babyman. 

The family didn't know we were coming, and was in the middle of a major house cleaning. 

It was nice, but not quite what we were looking for. 

The piano in the living room caused the freak out. 

For a closer look: 

When home shopping with a baby, don't allow him to see a musical instrument which he cannot play. 

This was red-faced, mom-kicking fun. 

At least I was smiling. 

Squat Pad #6. 

Cool place. WAAAAAAY out in the country, so that was a no-no. 

It did have an above ground pool with flamingos floating within, a "18th hole," green, and more red carpeting than hell.  It was actually really nice, but too much work.  So we continued on. 

Ranch #7.

The longshot of the bunch.  Out in the country, in a subdivision.  I should have studied the map more closely.  Charming landscaping and luxurious garage.  Issue? the steps that led to nowhere. 

Keith and I surmise that there may have been a plan to add a second story. 

Space #8 

You may notice August's clothing change.  Nothin' says this one's a winner, except for a poop in the pants.  Although August was fond of this place, we made our move, asking to once again see place #2. 

So, offer in, fingers crossed, more updates to come. 

It's a Mad Mad City.

Stretch, roll, a quick check of the watch... it's morning. 6:04am. Sunday.
Time to get up and have a few moments to myself.

Dressed in my favorite stretchy capris with the lettering on the waist, a blue tank, and my kickin' race shoes, I was out the door and down the elevator with only a few sips of coffee (too hot) to spare.

I took a right out of the building, jogging past the men waiting for breakfast on the steps of the capital church.  Past capital square, with notes of, "Prosser is Choking the life out of Madison," and "Solidarity." -- remnants of the fight against Walker and the whole WI government for their passage of anti-labor laws...

As I passed the store with meat pies, I was on State Street- check my watch- 6 miles an hour... for me, not bad.  I continued down State St, noting the remnants of last night's parties.  popcorn spilled in nearly every shopfront door, no idea what would have warranted that.  Sleeping hobos, a few, "Hello, how you doin?"'s and a nice warm breeze greeted me.  The store fronts are sleepy at this time of morning.  Twisting owl heads, hip over-done outfits in the Ragstock windows.... So much to see. It's eerie to see such a lively street so empty.

Campus starts where State Street ends, and although I usually turn around- my heart rate said, "keep going." I was up the hill... the steep hill at campus' start.  Past the, what's that building? My heart skipped a beat.. E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N.  Nice. I slowed, but knew I had to keep going.  Up the hill to the right, the view of the water over the trees is amazing- a few schooners (boats really, I just wanted to use that word) were out on the water, but again, very few signs of life this early.

Passing Liz Waters, I always think of my mom.  Her first dorm here at Madison.  Sitting high on the hill, the architecture of this building puts many dorms to shame.  Calm yellowed brick with great detail- it oversees the lake, right below the observatory.

Current construction makes the hill and the way down treacherous.  Running down the other side of the campus hill, the greenhouses and athletic centers popped up like weeds.  The hill was not so daunting from the other side.  Back up, past the observatory bubble, through the construction... past... E.D.U.C.A.T.I.O.N. (This time I noticed its shiny underground parking lot and luxurious outdoor seating area- ah- the beauty). Down to Monona Terrace.  The cleaning crew was hard at work washing away yesterday's beer and stacking chairs.

After the terrace, it was back up State Street, past the popcorn and sleeping men, through a maze of closed stores and yesterday's weddings, ooogling sunglasses and note cards as I ran.  Into the Lorraine, down the stairs, in the elevator, and through the hallway to Chelsea's condo door.  Lukewarm coffee now ready for consumption.. computer on blogger, writing away.

A Home It Is?

This morning Keith, August and I will be scouring the Sun Prairie landscape to (hopefully) locate our new home.  It's odd to think that today, we will most likely meet the space where we will live for many years to come.

Our hope, in this move, is that we can find a place for all of us to live and work until August is mostly grown.  The Sun Prairie School district is wonderful, and the neighborhoods are small enough that you can feel like it's a "hometown," but it is still big enough that there is still a little trouble to get into.  (I am just glad there is no El, for the idea he could jump on and take off terrifies me!)

Sun Prairie Wisconsin is about 10 minutes outside the capital of Madison.  It's a straight shot in and out of town, and will allow us access to many of the great things in Madison, but the taxes and home prices of the town just outside.

My school is located on the Northside (literally, it's called Northside) of Sun Prairie, and is one of seven elementary schools in the district.  I am really excited to be joining their team.  I would like for August to go to my school -- I dream of us walking hand in hand to school each morning- - but, I've heard from others that it might be nice if he was at another school close, to, "keep his own identity."

So, back to today.  We've been creeping on some houses online, and have eight showings set up, all over town, all different sorts of houses. It's just odd to consider that at day's end-- the hope would be that one of those houses has proved itself grand enough to call our home (yet affordable enough for us to purchase it!).

Then everything will be set in motion... Offers, stipulations, limits, boxes, moving trucks, and stress- we're trying to take it easy, but I've got less than two months to move house and classroom, and either one could blow my mind.

As we have begun to pack up knick-knacks and art work, it's apparent that more space will be a liberating thing.  I hope for a playroom for August, an art space for Keith, and an office for myself.
I'd like to have a nice lawn, or a lawn that could be nice.  I'd like the house to be sound structurally, but don't care if it's, "attractive," outright - Keith and I are fairly handy.

Waking up this morning, I feel nervous like I did before a show in high school... Will we go on? How will the audience (of future friends, family, and our dogs) receive it?

Think good thoughts as you wake up this morning, and please send some positive vibes our way. . I'll certainly let you know of the outcomes soon.

Ideas -Ahead, Behind, The Maori and the Marae - You Know You Want To Ruatepupuke!

So, a few years ago, I had this great idea to get kids together in a sort of collaboration at the Field Museum. I wanted kids from many different socio-economic backgrounds and neighborhoods to gather at the Marae at the museum and discuss issues that bother them in society, and what they can do to change things.

The Marae is the entrance to a traditional Maori meeting house (from New Zealand). This meeting house is curated by an amazingly passionate scientist who is fierce in his love for the meaning behind the house and its people, both in New Zealand and here.  His name is John Terrell, and he is one of the friendliest and most inspiring people I've had the pleasure to meet.  If you get the chance to visit the museum and see Ruatepupuke II (the meeting house's name), please keep an eye out for John and his associates.

So in 2009 I wrote a grant to try and support this idea.  It didn't get selected... but no matter... I still think it'd be a tremendous idea, and a great way to get kids talking about themselves, and appreciating what they have around them.  The idea came to me that I should share this writing and this idea on this blog- so that maybe someday another Chicago educator (or myself many moons from now), can use this concept to inform their students.  So- at the bottom of this post, I've included my grant writing and sources. I'd change a few things, but it's a good idea overall.

A few weeks ago, I attended my last "Field Ambassador," meeting at the Field Museum.  It was definitely sad to say goodbye to many educators and let them know I'd be leaving.  I was most sad about saying goodbye to the education department and the meeting house itself... I'd never bring my plan to fruition.  But then, when we were taken into the Whales exhibit (awesome- go see it!) and I made a connection that has inspired my thoughts for next year. .. . I saw a structure in the exhibit that sits outside many Maori Meeting houses. It was part of the exhibit that connected the history of whales and their makeup to the people who hunt and cherish them. The structure looks something like this (the red posts that make a roof of sorts) (I tried to post a picture, but it removed it... BOO

I'd like to have the students help me create a similar opening for our classroom.  I would have them reflect on things that matter to them and to our culture in the school and community.  We would create "carvings," that would be posted on painted cardboard (so it'd look like carvings). I believe this could be an exercise, in the spirit of the Marae- that could bring together our students and help them, "buy in" to the classroom spirit.  If we build our own Marae at the entrance to the room, and the students understand that this is a place were we share ideas, are safe, welcome, and become one people - - I think it will help them to feel that our classroom is a, "sacred" space.

I found the perfect molded cardboard tubing in the alley today- someone's packing trash has become my inspiration.  I plan to prime the cardboard and paint it, and the students can add cardboard details to make it complete.  We can either decoupage or paper mache it together, and then, when we hold our class meetings, we can use some of the key words and ideas from the Maori people.  I hope that this tribute will serve to connect my students, and to envelope them in the excitement I feel for the Marae.

If possible, I'll be bringing the Maori to Madison!

Some Things I'm still Trying to Understand

1. How women perfectly manicure their eye makeup.

I put mine on, and in second, it’s smeared, smudged, and all over the place- both my bathroom and otherwise.

I like to imagine that these women with perfect lids – both on TV and in person- have hired personal make-up artists who follow them around and correct any imperfections.

2. City Stickers.

 $75 now, or $100 ticket, $60 late fee, and $75 later. 

I won't make that mistake again. 

It just sucks that I have to pay to park in my own garage. 

3. How my baby can be so sweet.

Each day he does something that amazes me.  Yesterday he kissed his favorite characters and hugged the iPad during the song “Hug.” ..... He fed my brother in law blueberries, making subtle “mmmmm,” noises, and then ran around giggling when I was chasing him playing tag.  He walked down the block with me to get dinner, holding one finger so fiercely, I smiled the whole way. 

This baby is the coolest baby ever. 

4. How laundry is created so quickly.

Keith and I used to have to do laundry only once every two weeks or so.

Now, every few days, there is some milk stained, baby filth-covered, mess to deal with.  The laundry is insurmountable sometimes.

5. Sloths.

They are amazingly weird, yet great.  They look like they could murder you many times over, but move so slow, they seem harmless at the same time.  See this picture.  Yeah. Point for the sloths. 

6. Raaaannnchh

Gross. 

Worlds Collide

As if a haughty joke, today on the Backyardigans, the characters pretended to be a package delivery service.  Complete with hats, glasses, and a rousing rendition of "We'll never lose a package, it'll get there safe and sound."

Nice.

If you're unfamiliar with the irony here, please see the "Inequities in Children's shows," and "Big Bald Wolf."

To follow up, my documents NEVER arrived, and with a call to UPS, I found out that after the label was created, UPS has no record of the package.  Funny, huh?
Still at the store? Possibly.

Triathafeet.

Yesterday morning I participated in my fifth triathlon.  

The race began at 4:15am as I tripped to slap the alarm clock and fell into a hole that lurks between my mattress and bed frame.

With a giant oops, my morning was in full swing.

Three cups of coffee and a 45 minute drive later, we were in Palatine, IL ready to rock the Twin Lakes Triathlon.

The distances were a 700 meter swim, 14 mile bike, and a 4.5 mile run.  I’ve never been in a race of this length, always either longer or shorter than this one.  

When we arrived at the lake, I left the sleeping baby and supportive husband in the car and biked to the transition area- about a ½ mile from the parking lot.  I racked my bike next to a few gentlemen in some serious tri-gear, and was already feeling sub-par when I went looking for some of the other members of my tri team.

My team is a bit misfit-y, we don’t know eachother, none of us our tremendously experienced, and we’re a motley looking crew.  I couldn’t tell you more than 3 people’s names, and have not consistently been to practice due to the whole moving/baby momma, crazy teacher scheduling.  Anyway, I digress.  

Before the race, you check in, get a chip for your foot – to let you know your time overall, and a t-shirt (usually so unattractive that you know you won’t ever wear it). You then proceed to the marking station, where two strangers emblazen your race number on both arms, and both calves (akward!). 

After check in, I went and double checked my race gear, getting out my Altoids (for opening your lungs after the swim- it’s amazingly helpful actually), my running shoes, glasses, hat, bike helmet, baby powder in a towel (for drying your feet after the swim- ingenious- new this race!), a towel, and bike shirt with nasty Power Bloc gummies for added race fuel (ha!).  My socks were lovingly rolled in my shoes, ready for nimble toes.  My bike positioned towards the end of the row, facing the bike “out.”

Next I went for a practice dip in the lake.  Temperature? Fabulous actually- my lucky break! Realizing that people were already lining up for race start behind me, I jumped out, and ran back to the car where Keith and August were just preparing to join the race fans.  I grabbed sun block, my swim cap and goggles, and went down to the water’s edge.  Kisses from the baby, and a rousing pep talk from Keith-“I hope you don’t chafe.”

The race began, and immediately I was startled into the reality that once again I wasn’t sure I was ready.  After about the first 400 yards freestyle, I had to stop and catch my breath… I’m a strong swimmer, but with the thrashing kicking feet and slapping arms all around me, I couldn’t seem to catch my stride.  Some sidestroke, backstroke, and breaststroke later, I was out of the water, and off running.

Up the hill, over a bend, and off to my waiting bike. … First a towel on the face.  Feet powdered, socks rolled, hair touseled, helmet on, shirt over head (opposite order), race belt on…. Ready, set, go.  Out of the bike rack, down the hill, to the start line, and pedaling up the hill.  Bike gloves on as I ride. A quick swig of water, and a slimy gummy (For Power!) down the gullet.  Then we biked through the hills of Palatine.  I guess I could say, we biked through the box-filled subdivisions of Palatine.  Past lakes, houses, parks, and schools, up gorgeous hills, and past houses I’ll never hope to own- enormous staff filled houses with more windows than souls.  Down past the local college, over some speed bumps, and through a nice part of Rolling Meadows.  All the while thinking, “I think I can, I think I can.”

It doesn’t matter who you’re near in these things, you want to beat them all.  For me, it’s about how slow I am on the run… the bike is my chance to make up time.  One less person to have to try and pass on the run, I think to myself as I pick my competitors on the bike.

I zeroed in on two folks to “wrastle with” on this leg of the journey. One young lady who kept passing me, then I’d pass her, then she’d pass me… Her bike = expensive (jealous? YEAH!).  Mine, like the ugly cousin who wants to date her bike- 20 years old and tired looking.  But, there was no stopping me.  I was going to catch up and triumph.  The second competitor, a man I’ll only refer to as “Lunchable,” was an able bodied young chap, fast, and prone to re-adjust his “bits and pieces,” as we rode.   I don’t want to see that stuff on the street, let alone in front of me on a multi mile bike.

The three of us were neck, neck, and sausage, the whole race.  We’d pass each other, fall back, and come right back up cycling.

Then, travesty.  My shoelace wrapped around my foot and into my gear.  Bad news.  Not only was it cutting all the circulation in my foot off,- I could no longer pedal.  I had to let lunchmeat and lady friend pass me up.  It was not the end of the race for me…. Oh no.  I didn’t stop.  I reached down – yanked my lace, and continued pedaling with my left foot while I stretched to shove the lace into my shoe.

It was very dramatic.

Seriously.

Stop laughing.

This is some scary stuff.

So, I caught back up with my friends. Them, and their fancy, lightweight, drool inducing bikes. . .and I passed them! HA HA!! Passed them both with about a mile to go.  I could see the lady coming back up on my left, but I kept going… working my mantra= “Speed walking is an Olympic Sport.” 

Back to the paddock.  Bike hooked back, helmet off, visor on, more slimy chews, an Altoid or two, and run, run, run… I forgot to tie my shoe after the bike incident, so I had to stop and fix that.

Into the hills of Palatine we ran.  Legs jelly after miles of biking, teenage race helpers shouting, “You can do it.”  Occasionally passing friendly faces, occasional friendly faces passing me.   I passed an old man with a great blond comb-over and some kicking Speedos.  He was cruising.   I told a guy I was going to “Kill this #$%^&,” shocked at my odd racing chatter.  I guess I was nervous?  Each race attendant we passed would tell us how much longer till the end—almost taunting.

But, I made it. Sweaty, nowhere near first place- but I finished.  Since I am clearly an amateur, I race for my own satisfaction, and to see if I can finish a race. Not to win, and not to break records.   There are so many hardcore athletes at these events it can be intimidating.  But darn, it feels good to finish.

After a ride home, a quick nap and a nice lunch, I checked my scores.

Top 75 women, 10^th in my age group. Possibly my best finish yet.  I have 2 months till my next race- the Chicago Triathlon on August 28^th. 

Right now I need a rest, but I’m hoping that my August, I’ll be ready to take “Lunchable” on for a second round.

Inequities in Children's Television... It's All About the Jellyfish.

It has become apparent to me that I watch all too much children's programming.
Between school and my own son, I've been steeped in children's shows the last two years.

Please don't get all high and mighty with me about children and TV. I know that there are limits, and I much prefer playing and laughing without the TV. However, in the early morning and later evening, when it's wind down time... it's been a nice respite from the mad chase that usually describes my home life with August.

So, here are a few things I've noticed about the inequities in children's programming.

The dogs never have their say.
There are a number of shows in which the dog is the only non-talking creature.
This is BS. In Word World, all the other animals, bugs, and creatures talk. - -If you have not seen it, all of the characters and things are made of words. I have a hard time with this only because if you have a talking duck, frog, sheep and ant as main characters who talk, why can't the dog also speak? It just grunts and whines, and it seems unfair.

Also, in Blue's Clues... an annoying show for parents to suffer through, but boy does the kid like it.... The darn dog doesn't talk. He leaves amazing clues all over the house and throughout the show - - clearly understanding language, but unable to speak. I'm not sure I understand why the nightstand can talk, the salt and pepper and mailbox talk, but not the dog. Even the cat talks for goodness sake.

So why all this discrimination towards dogs?
I have two particularly annoying dogs, but I'm sure they'd talk long before my mailbox would.

It's All About the Jellyfish.  Separately, I have an issue with Nick Jr. That's right Nick, I'm upset by your blatant advertising within other children's shows. I know that your "dancey-dance time," doing the "Jumping Jellyfish," with Hector Jimenez, although hysterical on Yo Gabba Gabba - was a clear advertisement for Spongebob Squarepants. Why? Oh, because in a week's time I heard "Jumping jellyfish" mentioned on no less than three times on separate shows - Blue's Clues, The Backyardigans, and Yo Gabba Gabba- -  All Nick Jr. shows.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4FrBRrVxJc

Here's the Dancey Dance for your perusal.

What is up with the Backyardigans? 

I like their dissonant singing and colorful illustrations, but find it odd that these backyard friends are not just people.  Instead, they are colorful make-believe creatures.  They are supposed to be your "backyard friends," but their adventures take them under the sea, and on dolphin races- - - in the backyard?
I just wish they were regular kids using their own brains to play make believe games.
I see why some of my students have issues determining real from make-believe.

The only saving grace of children's shows for me is Yo Gabba Gabba.
It makes me laugh.  http://yogabbagabba.com/#
August smiles huge as soon as DJ Lance Rock comes on screen, and Brobee is the coolest.

So there, now that I've shared some of the oddities I've noticed, maybe you can add to them?
August and I enjoy a good show, but right now, we're going to the beach.  That's what I'm talking about.... If he's going to see a jumping jellyfish, I want it to be a real one.

Peace.

The Big Bald Wolf of Clark Street

This week I have had the sincere displeasure of visiting the UPS Store and their trite associate.... Oh, you know who you are. . . .

Complete Embarrassment / or / My Wisconsin Teaching License Application-

Needless to say, an important multi-page document with LOTS of personal info and transcripts, signatures, work histories… etc. . A huge pain to compile, and even bigger pain to ship…

It was a bright and breezy day when August and I took a stroll down to our local UPS store. . . . and there I met the worst customer service associate of my life.  This gentleman was friendly at first- a wolf in sheep’s clothing – or should I say, in bald, angry white guy clothing.  

I asked his assistance in finding the best shipping options to an address very unfamiliar to me.   He asked me for the address.  I pause (not even a dramatically long pause--- a very short, thinking pause) and while doing so the clerk told me  "I've never seen someone stare at a paper, start pointing, and yet is unable to share simple information about an address. "  

WOW!! That's amazing customer service!!

Now, rather than jumping across the desk and karate chopping the bald-wolf-sheep-man, I blushed and said that I was trying to verify the correct address, and realized it was a postal box… stammering now that, “I’d, um, I’ve never before seen “Drawer 791” as a physical address.”

The big bald wolf continued to go on about how he didn’t understand what my issue in finding the address was - - He was very curt with me after that, but did help me complete the order.   So, needless to say, I left the store feeling somewhat abused and disappointed.  

Like a good former Catholic, I bit my lip and ran home to complain to my husband about the whole thing….

HA HA / or / Our Much Abused Cobra Application… Darnit to Heck.

The next day, when I stepped in to UPS another document, I clearly checked the address, and was all ready for his stuff.  Wolfie did not greet me, but rather said, "Do I look like I have a problem to you?"  I said, "What?"  He said,  “I’m sure that you'd be a nice customer, not like the last guy, who said that I had a problem."  I said, “Look, I have a real address this time.” (trying to make a joke of his lack of humanism the day before)… He ignored me, blathering on about, “If someone asks you if you’re in a bad mood, wouldn’t that put you in a bad mood?... I mean, I didn’t have a problem till that guy.  Who does that.. so rude.” 

To me, standing there, staring at him, I’m thinking- Whoa! Someone had the balls to call him on his rudeness.  He continued on. “I’m just a simple bald guy here, I don’t know what that guy’s problem was.  I only asked him a few questions.”

Despite his outward chatter about how nice he was, and how hurtful the other customer had been, all I could think about was how I felt justified in being hurt yesterday, and maybe the Big Bald Wolf would change his ways.

REALLY? NO! STOP! / Or/ They Lost My Insurance Application and Now My Family is Uninsured. No, Really. Stop. 

This afternoon, with all the UPS work behind me, I decided to check on the packages shipped.  The teacher documents… CHECK. Thank goodness.

The Really super important Cobra back coverage for tons of medical bills I can’t pay- to help cover my family in our move, my triathlons, and to give me peace of mind?

NOPE!

SO, thinking they’d be helpful, I called our friend the Wolf at the UPS store.

I said, “Hi, I shipped a document the other day, and it wasn’t…….” He cut me of, "Do you have a question for me?" I have never been so disrespected in the first 10 seconds of a phone call.  I said, “Yes, I have a question, and you can stop being rude right now – you had a problem with me in the store the other day, and now you’re being rude again.” He stopped (for a second) then began telling me how he would gladly help me.  So, again, I started with, "I shipped a package with UPS, and it wasn’t delivered.”Before even knowing the package in question he went on to tell me it was UPS’ fault, not theirs.  Amazing that he’s able to tell that I didn’t know Wolves were all knowing.

So, thanks to my friend the Abominable Wolfman, my package never arrived, we are currently in insurance limbo, and I’ll participate in a triathlon on Sunday, not knowing what will happen if I bust my butt.  Keep your fingers crossed for Wolfman that all turns out well in this scenario… or I’ll re-think that jumping karate chop maneuver, and he’ll be the one wondering if insurance will cover his injuries.

In the meantime, feel free to use other UPS stores.  The Clark Street store has a faulty shipment.