Friday, December 7, 2012


Yesterday, Nelly over at A Tea Tray in the Sky wrote this post. I read it before going to bed last night, and it's been on my mind ever since. I'm not really sure why. I mean, there's the obvious: I follow Nelly's blog and don't like to hear that anything bad or even inconvenient has happened to her. I've never met Nelly, don't know her real name, don't know where she lives. I wouldn't know which airport to go to if I did offer to pick her up after a flight (which would make it a pretty empty and/or moronic gesture...) So why can't I just let it go?

I love picking friends up from the airport and try to get there at least 20 minutes early so I can people watch at the arrivals gate. The opening scene of Love, Actually sums it up very nicely. I love the way travelers come through gate looking weary and worn until the instant they spot the person meeting them.  The exhaustion and tension melts away and is replaced by happiness that seems to radiate from both parties. Regardless of who the travelers are to each other or where they are in their travels, you get a sense of homecoming.

I can understand that making the trip to the airport can sometimes be a hassle  especially with the reliability of today's flights- just when you resign yourself to every flight being late and let yourself get to the airport a couple minutes after the scheduled arrival, you find out you should have been an hour early because that's when the plane landed! I know that I'm a little nutty for being happy about a delayed flight, but can you blame me? When the plane is late I get to people watch that much longer. What I don't really get is offering to pick someone up from the airport and then not showing up, or any other slight like that. Telling someone you'll show up early to help with a dinner party and then arriving with the first guests, offering to babysit and cancelling 5 minutes before you're expected, or otherwise making commitments you have no intention of keeping. Of course I realize that things happen, unexpected circumstances can keep you from being where you're supposed to be. That, my friends, is why we all have cell phones. Call, text, tweet, face book, anything! Just let someone know you won't be there as planned! I'd rather hear you're not coming than find out after after waiting around for too long because I want to give you the benefit of the doubt.

I guess that's what really got to me about Nelly's post. I want to believe that people are inherently good. I want to see the best in people and think they have the very best of intentions. I don't want to believe that it's possible for people to be careless, hurtful or mean simply because they're too selfish to see beyond their own comfort. I'm not stupid. I know that think kind of thinking leads to disappointment and heartache. I just choose not to dwell on this. I want to hope for the best, to be the eternal optimist, to believe in the goodness of mankind in general. Yes, I'm disappointed often. Friends make fun of me for being too nice and call me a hopeless romantic. My family cautions against heartache and scolds me for letting people take advantage of me and walk all over me. Nothing will ever stop me from hoping, though, because that one moment of joy makes it all worth it. The one time my friend walks through the arrivals gate and sees me waiting, the random act of kindness that allows one stranger to brighten another's whole day, the person who simply does the right thing- that is what I believe in and hope for and when it happens, even once, it makes all the other times worth it.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Cooking with Kids

It takes a special kind of crazy to want to make something with kids. Fortunately for the Raisin, I'm just that kinda nuts. This morning Thing 1 went to school and Thing 2 had to go see the doctor, leaving Thing 3 (the Raisin) alone with Nanny Cait. We tried going outside, but after a trip to get the paper and check the mailbox, her little lips were blue and she was shivering too hard to even say yeah when I asked if she was ready to go in. (And she was dressed in tights, leggings, fleece pants, wool socks, boots, snow pants, a turtleneck onesie, a sweater, a jacket, mittens and a hat. Poor  kid looked like a pink starfish!)

So in we went, warmed up with a couple of stories under a blanket and then the wiggles struck. The Raisin is not the world's most snuggley child. She's a girl of action, and today she came up with her own plan. Knowing her twin was at the doctor, she told me, "Doodle 'prise make." This, for those of you not fluent in toddler, meant that she wanted to make a surprise for the Doodle. The smile on that girl's face when I asked if she wanted to bake cookies was amazing.

I find it's easiest to bake with kids if everything is pre-measured and set up. I put flour, sugars, butter, etc. in bowls, pulled out the Kitchen-Aid and brought a chair over to the counter. The Raisin asked about each individual ingredient. I let her touch a bit of flour and sugar so she could feel the difference, then taste a grain of sugar and a grain of salt. We talked about safety and why it's important to always bake with a big person- at least until you're old enough to be a big person. Lectures over, we began pouring the ingredients one by one into the mixer. The Raisin is a very careful girl and managed almost everything without spilling. The vanilla extract dripped a bit and I was dusted with a cloud of flour when she turned the mixer on high right after adding 2 cups to the bowl, but other than that there were no casualties.

The tough part, but also an awesome teaching opportunity, comes during the actual baking. I won't let the girls eat the raw cookie dough because of the eggs, so patience plays a HUGE part in this project. Not to mention the fact that the cookies are too hot to eat when they first come out of the oven. The Raisin handled this like a pro. I gave her the timer and sent her into the playroom with the instructions to come and let me know when it dinged. Exactly 10 minutes later she danced her way back into the kitchen to let me know I should take the cookies out. I told her to pick a really long song to sing and then the cookies would be cool enough to taste, so she sat down by my feet and sang Baby Beluga all the way through. Didn't stop once to ask for a cookie! When she was done, I picked her up and let her choose which one she wanted. And what did she do? She picked up a cookie, kissed me on the cheek and asked, "Cait want cookie yes peas?" Nanny Cait was proud!

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Because I Like a Challenge

I want to be all kinds of crafty. I love doing arts and crafts projects, sewing, knitting, crocheting  etc. The only problem is I suck. Well, that and I lack the will to follow through.

I've recently (at the beginning of September) started a new project. I'm using a Knook to make an infinity scarf. The basic idea is that you knit with a crochet hook. I've got about 3 inches of finished work to show for all my effort. At this rate, it really will be an infinity scarf...

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Dear Washington

Congratulations on making it through another election. To the newly elected, way to go. You've got a tough job ahead of you, and I wish you all the best.

I know that some of you are already looking ahead to the 2016 campaign season. Sure, the actual election isn't for another 4 years, but it's never too early to start planning for that 6 month frenzy of campaigning, right? As you think about your strategy, let me point out that you do, in fact, have over 3 years to plan. That means you should be prepared to answer questions and present your platform. With a well thought out campaign there really should be no need to stoop to attacking your opponent. Please, use your time wisely.

While planning your campaign, please remember that you are running against a fellow American, not some faceless villain created by Hollywood. It has been said before and is worth repeating, in a campaign one runs against an opponent, not an enemy. Why then, is it accepted for politicians to openly attack each other during an election year? What kind of an example are these politicians setting for the school children who run for class office each year? Do you realize that, on average, Romney and Obama spent 88% of their campaign funds on negative advertisements? That translates to an average of roughly $380 million dollars saying the other guy is icky. You're adults. Act like it.

Instead of wasting time telling me how terrible your opponent is, why not spend a little time telling me how good you are? Or encouraging citizens to register and vote. So many men and women have fought battles to bring us the democratic freedom that most people take for granted. Imagine the reaction of the American public today if only white, property owning men were allowed to cast a vote. It is an honor and a privilege to be allowed to participate in such an important decision. You could use your influence to get more of the public to the polls.

Another thing: I know you're rich. We all know it. You've got a lot more money that I ever will. Stop wasting it on TV spots, radio ads, billboards and the like. Why not spend it on something that will make a difference? Here's an idea: a lot of you like to go pose for pictures at local soup kitchens. Why not just give the soup kitchen a whole bunch of money? Maybe you were a Girl Scout or a Boy Scout, a member of a social service club or organization? How about getting a group of kids from that organization to volunteer at the soup kitchen. You can even stand next to them in the same t-shirt and smile for all the reporters. I bet the undecided voters would respond to that a lot more favorably that all those annoying phone calls you have people making. And I know they'd appreciate you a lot more for doing that than buying ad space to tell us how terrible your opponent is.

Speaking of undecided voters (and swing states) are you people aware of how much money you shell out for such a small percentage of the vote? Now, I know this is really just the two main presidential candidates, but really. You're supposed to be well educated adults. Both Obama and Romney spent $36 million in Colorado alone trying to win all of 9 electoral votes. I may not know a lot about politics or economics, but I can assure you that this makes absolutely no sense. And again, most of this money was spent telling the fine people of Colorado that the Democrats think the Republicans are icky  and vice versa.

That's pretty much all I wanted to say. See you at the polls in 4 years.

P.S. I'm not crazy enough to believe any of the politicians in Washington will take the time to explain campaign spending decisions to me. I don't even really expect this "letter" to make it onto anyone's radar. I would, however, encourage you to think about what we're letting politicians get away with. As voters we've been allowing these negative ad campaigns to grow to the point where they're so full of hatred and animosity that it's a wonder anyone's had any desire to turn on a TV, open a news paper or listen to the radio over the past 6 months. With social media being what it is, friends have turned against friends, family members are no longer speaking, lines have been drawn and sides have been chosen. A friend of mine from Europe compared this presidential election to the Civil War where brother took up arms against brother. While that may seem a little melodramatic, she had a point, and I'm embarrassed to say that this is what our country has become known for. Isn't it time that we put an end to this? I may be idealistic, but I think politicians would be stupid to ignore their public, the people who vote them into office (and yes, I do know that it's actually the electoral college that puts the president in office, but still...)

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

What is Democracy?

I know some of you have tried to explain today's events to kids. At lunch the Ladybug's mom and dad left to vote and she asked me where they were going. I tried my best to explain, and I even used props.

I told LB that Mama and Dada were going to the school by the little church so they could vote.

LB: What's vote?

Cait: It's when you pick something. Like when you and the sisters all tell me what song you want to hear and then we listen to the one that most of you want to hear.

LB: Oh, I like that. But only when you play my song.

Cait: Well, big people like voting when the person we want to be president wins.

LB: What's president?

Cait: Right now it's Barack Obama. You remember who he is, right?

LB: From the book?

Cait: That's right, from the book (we have a copy of the book that Barack Obama wrote for his daughters.) If he wins, then he gets to be president for 4 more years, but another man, Mitt Romney, wants to be president, too. So they're asking all of the big people all over the country to help pick who gets to win.

LB: Mitt is like mitten.

Cait: Yes, it is. Do you know what the country is?

LB: Yes.

Cait: Really?

LB: No.

At this point I pulled out a handy dandy State Quarters map that just happened to be on the kitchen table.

Cait: This is the country that we live in. It's called the United States of America. There are 50 states all together.

LB: Is that a lot?

Cait: Does it look like a lot?

LB: Yes.

Cait: Do you know which state we live in?

LB: Yes.

Cait: Really?

LB: Vermont.

Cait: Good girl. Vermont is all the way up here. Now, each state gets to pick one person to be in charge. That person is called the governor. Right now our governor is Peter Shumlin.

LB: I know.

Cait: Really?

LB: No. I love you, Cait.

Cait: I love you, too. Now, one person gets to be in charge of all of the states. That person is the president.

LB: Like Mama and Dada and Cait.

Cait: Um, sure. Now, when we vote today, everyone from every state gets to say who they want to be president. That's what voting is. Do you remember the two people who want to be president?

LB: Barack Obama from the book and Mitten from the hat.

Cait: Close enough.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Crime and Punishment

Today was a challenging day. I took Thing 1 and Thing 2 outside in the hopes of going for a walk this morning. We made it to the driveway that leads up to a nice, wooded path by the neighbor's house when suddenly Thing 1 and Thing 2 developed acute cases of no-skeleton-itis. It's a horrible disease that often strikes without warning and causes a child's skeleton to disappear instantaneously. It's occasionally accompanied by tears and/or shouting. Usually only if there are witnesses (which there were, so tears AND shouting occurred.) I had to pick up both girls and carry them back to the driveway, where I plopped them down (they're heavy!) and proceeded to retrieve the mail and newspaper.

After this debacle, I decided that maybe an outdoor craft would be fun. All 3 girls love when birds and squirrels stop by the bird feeders, so we filled the 2 hanging feeders and then I looked up ideas for homemade feeders. Here's an easy one: You'll need the cardboard from a roll of toilet paper, peanut butter, bird seed, a cookie sheet, and something to spread the peanut butter with. Oh, and infinite patience and the desire to say, "That's not for eating." about 50 times per minute. Put a layer of bird seed on a cookie sheet. Tell the child to stop putting seeds in his/her mouth. Spread peanut butter on the outside of a TP roll and remind the child that seeds are for birds, not people. Hand the roll to the child, once again stating that the seeds are not for people, and show him/her how to roll it across the cookie sheet so that seeds are pressed into the peanut butter. Take a deep breath and calmly repeat that seeds are for the birds, not people and this time add that the peanut butter is also a special treat for the birds even though it is usually a people food. Pry the roll out of the child's hand taking care to avoid his/her snapping jaws as he/she tries for one more bite of that birdseed and peanut butter combo. Simply slide the roll onto a tree or bush branch and birds will have a tasty treat. Or in our case, squirrels will grab the stupid things, drop them on the lawn, and when you go out for an afternoon walk, you'll once again have to remind the child to leave the roll alone for the love of all things good and pretty in this world because it's a treat for the stupid birds and if the kid eats all of the bird treats then they'll have no food and be very hungry and sad and do you really want to make the birds sad, kid? DO YOU?

I will not be doing this craft again.

At lunch, Thing 1 ate everything on her plate and got some cranberry orange muffin for dessert. Thing 2 ate some of her fruit (I found most of it smushed into her booster seat when I picked her up after calling it quits) and part of a baby carrot. She refused to eat her egg salad sandwich. The one thing she asked me to make for lunch. Whatever, she didn't get dessert, I had to dig part of the carrot out of her mouth because she refused to swallow a bite after chewing on it for 10 minutes, she bit my finger and spit on me, and then she told me all the way up to nap that she was hungry for muffin. Blah. She got put to bed and the wee beasties slept for 2.5 hours. That was long enough for me to roast butternut squash, onion and garlic for a yummy pizza (cut those 3 things up, toss with olive oil, salt and pepper and roast at 375 for about an hour. Sprinkle with fresh rosemary when they come out of the oven. Roll out your pizza dough, spread out the roast veg, crumble goat cheese on top and bake at 375 for about 30 minutes.)

When the Things woke up from their naps, I was feeling all kinds of accomplished and optimistic. I'd made the pizza, I folded 3 loads of laundry, I tidied the play room, I had snacks made, dishes washed and put away, activities set, and everything laid out for another walk. Thing 1 cried when she saw it was me and not Dada. Thing 2 yelled at her for crying and then started herself because she suddenly only wanted her sister, Thing 3. Thing 1 then forgot about Dada, wanted Thing 3 and wanted Thing 2 to stop. Thing 2 then wanted Dada. I told them we could get ready to go downstairs together or I could give their snacks to the mouse. (Oh yeah, there's a mouse in the kitchen that's been popping in and out of the baseboards all day. One of the cats is going nutso over it, the other one is insane and they both drove me to swearing creatively while the Things were napping.) Anyhow, that got them to focus on important things, like getting out of cribs and getting down the stairs. Snack was eaten and we headed outside to try a walk again. See report of boneless children above. We came home. We played with the Aquadoodle mat, read some books, played some matching games, played find-the-letter-or-number on the foam floor mat, and I left them to start "cooking" dinner in their kitchen while I made dinner in the real kitchen.

Today was french toast Friday. French toast takes a little concentration and a bit of time. Big mistake on my part. While I was toasting that egg infused bread to perfection, dishing out my homemade apple butter, slicing avocado and mango, and making everyone's plate look nice, the Things were playing how-many-wooden-cake-decoration-circles-can-we-fit-into-our-mouths-at-once-and-still-drink-water. The answer? All of them, of course. I think each Thing had about 10 quarter sized wooden discs in her mouth when I came in. They weren't in danger of choking, but they were giggling and spewing water all over the place. I hate to say it, but the sounds of joy should have tipped me off to something bad going down in the playroom...

I did not yell. I did not even speak. I just kind of went into auto pilot mode, put the Things on the couch and started cleaning up. I washed off the saliva covered discs, I dried off the rest of the cake set and put it back into the now-chaotic kitchen. I wiped blobs of water and drool from the floor, table, mat, kitchen, chairs and even a wall. I then took a chair, sat in front of the Things and asked them simply, "Why?" They didn't answer, but just repeated Why each time I asked. Frustrated beyond reason, I decided to try something new. I grabbed the iPad, pulled up Bach's Air on the G String and played it 3 times through. They were lulled into a stupor by that point, but Mama and Thing 3 still weren't home. I put on Pachebel's Canon in D and we made it through twice before they made it back. Then dinner, bed and my day was over.

As far as punishments go, I'm not sure this one fit the crime, but at least I was calmer by the end of it and the girls seemed to enjoy the music.

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Democracy Sucks

If I promise to vote, will you please shut up?

This is something I found myself saying to a complete stranger today. I went to the supermarket to buy a loaf of bread. That's all I wanted. A woman I have never met before came up to me and started telling me all the wonders of Romney. She is obviously Romney's biggest fan, and that's just fine. I have nothing but admiration for people who are passionately committed to a cause. Unless, of course, they prevent me from buying a friggin' loaf of bread!

It all started out innocently enough. She was standing in front of the particular loaf of bread that I wanted, so I politely asked to get by so that I could get my bread and go. She, equally as politely, asked if I was planning to vote in the upcoming election. I am, in fact, planning to vote. Before I could tell her this, the woman launched into a VERY detailed explanation of why I shouldn't believe what those uninformed Democrats were saying- the bunch of hippies. They're apparently all about Commie-save-the-world-while-smoking-pot-and-free-love crap. Romney, on the other hand, knows what's good for this country. He knows that God only condones one type of marriage, that people who deserve health care are the ones who earn it through a good, honest job. Romney understands the American public and would be a good moral example for all of us. Plus, he's white.

At that point asked her, "If I promise to vote, will you please shut up?" She looked at me with her mouth open, completely shocked. Apparently what I said what so intolerably offensive. How very un-Republican of me. At least I'm white...

P.S. I have nothing against Republicans in general, just those who ambush me.

Another P.S. I'd have been equally offended by these remarks had they come from anyone else, regardless of race, gender, age, religion, country of origin, political affiliation or astrological sign.

A last P.S. I never did get that loaf of bread.

Sunday, October 14, 2012


I received an email today from a friend of mine from college. We haven't talked in a while, but I know she's teaching English at a high school in Atlanta. It was nice to hear from her, but it took me about 20 minutes to decipher her message. Here's part of it:

Hey u-
Wat up? U bak in the US or stil over cs? If ur gona b in blo 4 xmas, let me no so we can get 2gethr?

While I might expect something like this in a text from one of my teen-aged cousins or a tweet, this was a rather lengthy email written by a 31 year old ENGLISH TEACHER. Is this what passes for acceptable in schools these days?

Am I too judgmental, over critical, just plain old? I guess I'll find out when I hear back from her. In the mean time, I should probably read up on how to spell with as few letters as possible.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Hello, I'm...

I'm a lot of things. I'm a nurse, a nanny, a friend. I'm a sister, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin and a daughter. I'm opinionated, stubborn, nerdy, outspoken, clumsy, forgetful, and optimistic. Lately I'm stressed, sad, withdrawn, insecure, and filled with doubt. I hate who I'm becoming, and I don't know what to do to stop it.

I know that I need to do something, change something about the situation I'm in. I've been living in the same place for about 15 months now and I have very few friends. I rarely go out in the evenings. The fact that I work until 7:30 most evenings has a lot to do with this, coupled with the fact that I don't know who I'd go out with. I have one day off each week, and these days are primarily spent alone. I go for hikes, go to movies, go to coffee shops and sit alone.

I hate this. I hate being alone, I miss having people to talk to. I'm in a rut that I need to get out of, and I don't know how to do it. But I know that I'm going to get myself out of this. I'm going to move past this rut, be happy again, get my life back.

Monday, September 24, 2012

A Pig, a Party and Some Hope

This past Saturday my church hosted a pig roast. Our rector, Margo, has been wanting to do an event like this for quite some time. It was great to see her from time to time throughout the day, looking like a kid in a candy store.

The Foxcroft Farm Harvest Program gave us the pig. Raised it, had it butchered, didn't make us pay for it. I looked into it, and a pig that size usually runs about $260! A friend of a friend lent us his cooker, and a local market allowed us to store the pig overnight in their walk in cooler.

Saturday morning I woke up early and headed over to Grace Church, our Forest Dale location, and started by cleaning out the huge roaster. It's basically a massive grill that I was fortunate enough to be able to borrow for the day.

Grace Church

The Grill

I was very lucky to have help from 2 amazing members of the congregation. They shuffled the pig from place to place and then helped me get it on the grill. It was a 130lb pig. That's not a tiny thing. It was actually a little too long for the grill to start with, and we had to get creative with the legs. It didn't come to that, but there was talk of a hacksaw...

Everything was off to a good start. It was a beautiful day, not too cold and not at all rainy like the meteorologists were threatening. I had my book, a chair, my coffee, and a roasting pig. And then it was time to flip it. How hard could that be? Go find a friend who doesn't ask too many questions. Slather that person with vaseline and have them lie on the floor. Now put on some oven mitts and try to get them to roll from one side onto the other. Oh, and don't forget to cry a little and apologize profusely to the pig because it's making all kinds of sizzling, whining noises on the grill.

The bad news: I had to flip the pig 7 times in all. The good news: I got over feeling sad and guilty after the 3rd flip. That also happens to be the flip I almost slid the entire pig onto the ground because one of the legs came apart. Think it's gross reading about it? I had it in my hand...

After much grill hilarity, the evening was a success. We had a bouncy house for the kids, lawn games and face painting, everyone from church pitched in and brought a side to pass around. There was so much food left over that we'll be able to hold a pulled pork supper soon.

Here's the best part, in my opinion. There was a free will donation basket set up near the dessert table. We advertised the event as being free and open to the public. We weren't expecting to raise much money at all, and the only cost to cover was the bouncy house rental. The pig and grill were donations, everyone made food, and the space was ours. The people who came were generous enough that we were able to make donations to Rock Point SchoolThe Vermont Food Bank, and a local family that lost their father after he became ill with Eastern Equine Encephalitis. We've got a turkey dinner set up for October. Someone please start pouring the wine now!

The next picture is of the finished pig. You might not want to look if you have vegetarian tendencies.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Songs in My Head

Ever hear a catchy tune and have the song stuck in your head for the rest of the day? This happens to me on a daily basis. It's as annoying as it sounds, trust me. I have no idea why it happens, sometimes it's even more than one song in a day. I've given up trying to unstick one song by listening to another- at best I end up with the new song running on repeat, at worst I've then got 2 dueling in my brain.

Here's a snippet of the tunes over the past few days:

Plain White T's       Rhythm of Love
The Decemberists   Sons and Daughters
Taylor Swift           Mean
Kanye West           Amazing
The Band Perry     If I Die Young
Meredith Brooks    Bitch
Shu-Bi-Dua           Midsommersangen
Sanne Salomonsen Jeg vil lade lyset braende

A slightly random and at times inappropriate mix of tunes. They pop into my head without warning and usually have nothing to do with anything going on at the moment. Odder yet, I've had intermittent tinnitus since I was a kid. Every time I end up with a song stuck in my head, I also experience the tinnitus. Anyone care to dissect that one?

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Brushing my Hair

I had a very random conversation at about 4:00 this morning with a friend in England. She and I are almost never online at the same time, so it was nice to be able to Skype with her (thank you ineffective NyQuil. I know I took one dose, I may have taken two. Either way, I fell asleep around 11pm and was wide awake by 4.)

My not-so-subtle bed head prompted Julie to tease me about my hair brushing habits. We've known each other for a long time, and she knows how much I hate brushing my hair. It's not that I like it to be messy, rather it takes such a perfect storm of events for me to be able to do so without hurting myself, ripping out clumps of hair, or breaking brushes. I have curly/wavy hair. Lisa Lehmann of Studio Jewel has a great product review for those of you with curls. Read the comments, too, as other readers have given some useful tips. It's very thick. It's not so long now, but it does fall past my shoulders. I've given up on bangs, as they tend to curl, frizz, and take on a life of their own. The last person to cut my hair in layers did not get paid, but instead got to watch in horror as my hair dried in a Medusa-like mane as I complained to the manager. I don't get my hair cut all that often to avoid situations like this, but I do tend to hack it all off and donate to Locks of Love when I do brave the salon.

A couple of days ago, Nelly at A Tea-Tray in the Sky posted a story about her daughter, school, and bath time. I decided that I would show my support of Alice by brushing my hair. It was as good a motivation as any, seeing as how it'd been a couple of weeks since I last ran a brush through the beast. Before you judge, I do wash my hair every 2-3 days and do my best to make it look somewhat tamed as it dries. It's harder than it looks. So the other night I got into the shower, washed my hair, let the conditioner sit for 5 minutes before rinsing and then getting out immediately. I sprayed in leave-in conditioner and wrapped it tightly in a towel, making sure my hair was flat and not twisted into bunches before wrapping. Then after 10 minutes in the towel, I put another across my shoulders, took my still-dripping hair down and sprayed it with anti-frizz spray. I took a deep breath, picked up my brush and made it about half-way through before the stupid thing broke. I was frustrated, but not surprised. This is what my hair does to brushes.

Last night I went out and bought some new brushes and the NyQuil. The cashier at the Rite-Aid was giving me looks like she thought I was up to something. Or on something. So this morning after my chat with Julie, I decided to brave brushing my hair again. I repeated the process of preparing to brush and, brand spanking new brush in hand, I started to brush. It broke. I'm going to need to revise my system, because it seems my hair is on to me...

Thursday, September 13, 2012


Sharing is a good thing. As a nanny I encourage the kids to share their toys, bites of snack, snuggle space during story time, etc. It's not always an easy concept for a toddler, but I think they've been doing really well.

Last night I went to bed feeling fine, a bit tired, but that's nothing new. This morning I had a cold. I felt like I had stepped outside hungover, been hit by a bus, and was lying in a gutter getting rained on. It was a beautiful and sunny day, which only made me feel worse. I walked into work fearing what anyone who has ever been in a room with 3 two year-olds fears: cacophony.

Sure enough, chaos reigned. Dad was trying to play songs for them on the guitar while they clambered around trying to "help." They were all singing songs, and while they were getting most of the words and notes right, they weren't exactly all singing the same songs. Baby Beluga, Kumbaya and Row Row Row Your Boat don't exactly make for the best mash-up in the history of music.

When a moment of calm finally settled, I said my hellos and gave hugs. Ladybug wanted me to give her a kiss hello, but I told her that I couldn't today. She was a little disappointed, but I explained that I'd gotten her cold, and that I didn't want to give her any more icky germs. At this, her face lit up and she said proudly, "I shared my cold! That's nice. Sharing is caring!"

It's nice to know some of my lessons sink in...

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

A New Beginning

I'm a terrible writer, and don't really expect anyone to read what I put down here. Wonderful way to start things out, eh?

That said, the disclaimer that comes with this blog is that these are random ramblings from my often exhausted mind. Be kind in your judgments, reserve them for me- meaning please don't attack anyone who might post a comment. (Translated: For the love of all things nice in this world, don't scare off anyone stupid enough to get sucked into reading my blog!) Thanks and have a great day!