Check out the never-been-opened, circa 1970 alarm clock I just got at the thrift shop for two dollars! Made in the USA! I looked all summer for an alarm clock that wasn't made in China and didn't suck like the last two I bought at LLBean (sorry LLBean and thanks for the refund).
This one reminds me of the clock that was in the guest room at my grandmother's house when I was a kid. Words in a blog cannot possibly express how excited I am about this clock. It will make having to wake up at 7AM totally worthwhile.
song: Time (Clock of the Heart) • artist: Culture Club
Today we went to the dentist. Not just any dentist though - a pediatric dentist. Because H had a cavity, our usual dentist recommended this switch as the environment at the pediatric dentist "might be more relaxing." How oh how have I survived these eleven years of parenting without experiencing the bliss that is a visit to the pediatric dentist? The office was like Disney Land with a dental chair in the middle. There were movies playing. And not only were there movies in the waiting room and being screened on the ceiling above the dental chairs, when you're the kid getting the filling, you get to pick the movie (which seems to me like it might lead to kids getting cavities on purpose just to be in control of cinematic selections but I'm sure the dentist knows what he's doing). The array of toothpaste flavors was dizzying, bubblegum, strawberry, grape, you name it. Even the laughing gas masks came in a variety of smells. The dentist himself was super animated. If he ever gives up his practice I'm sure they'd be an opening for him on Broadway. He also had the largest smile I'd ever seen. I suspect he was showing off his own teeth and who could blame him - they were dazzling. The part I liked best, other than the dentist going over my son's x-rays with me with more clarification than my ob/gyn used to explain my ultrasounds, was that the kids were all handed their prize bags on the way out the door. This eliminated the task of the child having to choose their own prize out of a big basket of assorted prized, which, as any parent will tell you, is an agonizing decision and one that takes roughly twice as long as the visit itself. At home H carried the prize bag in from the car himself, without reminder, which sounds mundane but again parents will confirm that it's a near miracle. Despite the fact that settling on a prize at the dentist or doctor's office takes longer than choosing which college to attend, by the time you arrive home, said prizes are usually forgotten about and subsequently left in the back of the car. As a parent I usually hope that my child chose the foam dinosaur over the rubber pop ups because the pop ups are ever so much more likely to clog the vacuum cleaner three months from now during my car's routine cleaning.
song: Be a Dentist • musical: Little Shop of Horrors
It has recently come to my attention that Jaws, the movie that scared the bejeebers out of landlocked and coastal dwellers alike in the summer of 1975, is rated PG. PG. That's the same rating as Happy Feet. Now I know from experience that PG movies in the 1980s and PG movies in 2013 are two different things because I've rented the Goonies and Back to the Future for my kids and heard them say (gleefully) more than once, "hey Mom! Did he just say Xyz?" But Jaws? I mean wasn't there swearing, and nudity, and body parts? I'm pretty sure I remember swearing, and nudity, and body parts. I know a lot of the scariness in Jaws was implied scariness, which is what made the movie so great; that and a really good soundtrack, but there was some actual scariness too. What'd it take to get an R rating back in the 70s? I suppose Apocalypse Now and Taxi Driver were also rated PG? song: Part of Me • artist: Tedeschi Trucks Band
We went to a cookout last weekend with not one, but two, bouncy houses. One hell of a kids party right? You bet. The only problem was that my kids kept taking off their shoes in order to bounce only to be unable to find them when they were finished bouncing. Ken and I spent half the night helping H search for his sneakers (he finally found them) and the other half looking for one of N's brown slip ons (we had to stop back the next morning and find it in the daylight). It was just like that line from My Fair Lady when Professor Higgins laments spending the evening with a date: "you go to see a play or ballet, and spend it searching for her glove."
So the cup C needed for baseball led to the cracking of a number of jokes and comments on the package's advertising. I explained what it was to H, but to N and S I just said that it was part of their brother's uniform. C's team lost the first game of the season 9 to 1. I don't know who got that one run but I know it wasn't C. "Did you get any hits?" "Nope." "Make any plays in the outfield?" "Nope." "Make contact with the ball in any way?" "Nope." "Guess you didn't really need that cup, huh?" "Mom. I didn't really need my glove."
Research concludes that lack of sleep accelerates the aging process.
Conversely more sleep can slow down the aging process.
I guess that means that we can live longer if we sleep more; but the downside is that we'll spend those bonus years snoozing.
This research, I suspect, was used by Disney when they came up with the plots for both Snow White and Sleeping Beauty.
My husband turned off the tea kettle this morning which I'd left it on when I went to the bus stop with C. Later, I turned off the coffee maker which he forgot to turn off before leaving for work. It's the perfect marriage! song: The Coffee Song • artist: Frank Sinatra
The twins were super excited to go to kindergarten this morning because "today Mrs. Anderson is going to teach us to read!"
I expect that on Monday they'll learn algebra and on Tuesday they'll graduate.
What drunken sailor, high on outlet shopping, numbered the exits on the Maine Turnpike? It starts out normally enough when you get on in Bangor headed south. There's exit 186, 185, 184, 183, and 182 A and B. The next exit is 180 which might give the sticklers pause - I mean why two exits for 182 and none for 181? The next exit is 174. What happened there you think. Did I miss the last six exits? Am I not paying attention? Do I need another Red Bull? But that's not all because the next exit is 167, then 161, 159, 157, 150, and 138. It's like a preschooler did the numbering. Things really start to plummet when you get close to the New Hampshire boarder: exit 32, exit 25, exit 19, exit 7. It starts to feel like some sort of Twilight Zone episode where a motorist goes looking for an exit that doesn't exist or a Stephen King novel where the driver leaves the highway via exit 50 only to find that there is no exit 50 and now they're on some kind of side road to hell. And while it's all well and good to make fun of it (whatever it takes to pass the time while driving right?), there's a real danger of missing your exit say if you're getting off at exit 86 and you're at 103 and cruising along on auto pilot only partly paying attention because you think you've got scores of exits yet to drive past right? Wrong. You're got one exit, #102, then it's straight on to exit 86, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Maybe it's a ploy by the Maine highway department to get drivers to miss exits, thereby forcing them to get off and back on the highway repeatedly and having to pay expensive tolls over and over again. Pretty devious of those Mainers if that's the case. Maybe there's a more humane explanation. A Buddhist one in which the designers of the Maine Turnpike have purposefully misnumbered the exits in order to keep drivers from becoming complacent. Gotta drive in the present man. Gotta pay attention. It's just a little Zen and the Art of Highway Exit Numbering. Yeah. That's the ticket.
The cat caught a mouse in the twins' room this morning - as if the first day of school wasn't exciting enough.
As of 8:45 AM, I am officially the only person in my house.
It's just me and 5,000 fruit flies.