Under Construction

Truth

2008-07-07T08:58:00.000-07:00

I've said it before; I love Leonard Pitts, Jr. Today, he published a column about SEI, a Portland non-profit that is highly successful in changing the lives of at-risk children. Read it here. SEI is the brainchild of Portland's Tony Hopson. Tony now has my undying support. Here's what he says about kids:

``At-risk kids go home to at-risk parents. We do not have a youth problem in America; we have an adult problem in America. So unless you also begin to follow kids home and impact what's happening in the home site, you can't arrest this problem.''

Sing it Tony.

Tony's philosophies and solutions bring results.

Here are the statistics:
"On average, SEI participants graduate from high school at a rate of 98%, while only 64% of students graduate from the primary neighborhood high school. In addition, over 85% of SEI high school graduates go on to pursue a college education, often the first in their families to do so."

Here is the secret to SEI's success (from their website):

"THE SUCCESS OF SEI IS BASED ON:

Intensity
Opportunity never punched a timeclock, so neither do we. SEI’s coordinators work in the schools where core children attend. We work after school to assist with homework and provide tutoring, elective classes, and peer groups for life and leadership skills. We work on weekends to offer positive recreation options. We even work during the summer with our six-week, full-day summer program.

Continuity
For many children, SEI is the most consistent thing in their lives. Children enter SEI in second grade and can stay in the program until they are 25—year in and year out. This unprecedented long-term involvement helps get kids on the right academic path and sees them through to the world beyond the schoolyard. Many of SEI’s kids are the first child in their family to go to college—a victory for us, for the family, and certainly for a kid once thought to be “at-risk”.

The Relationship Model
SEI Coordinators serve the roles of an additional teacher, parent, and mentor in forming strong personal relationships with each child. They not only help young people formulate and follow through on positive academic and personal goals, they are present for the important events of students' lives, be they basketball games, concerts, family funerals, parent teacher conferences, or any other. Coordinators also focus on building positve relationships with everyone influential in SEI students' lives: parents, teachers, siblings, friends- so that everyone is working together to support students and resolve problems.

Variety
At SEI, we strongly believe that every child will be successful if they receive exposure to many opportunities. One child may be a natural at baseball, while another finds her outlet in dance. By offering every kid options in academics, arts, athletics, and community service, we allow them to find their talent and build a passion for it. With passion comes self-esteem. With self-esteem comes drive. With drive comes success in school, relationships and life in the community.

The SEI Standards
All students and staff are expected to learn and live by these standards of integrity and respect, creating an atmosphere of positive individual actions and interactions with others. "

"We don't have a youth problem in America; we have an adult problem in America."

Tony speaks the truth. And offers solutions.

Thank you, Tony.

We are...under construction.

Wish I wrote this...

2008-07-05T11:23:00.000-07:00

Franke James. Check her out. Love her.

Thanks for the heads up, Lelo. I agree, this one is true patriotism.

We are...under construction.

If we build it, cars will come.

2008-07-03T09:50:00.001-07:00

Okay, I'm shamelessly coopting Kinsella's work for my own purposes. But really, it is true.

The I-5 bridge is what I'm talking about.

If you're like me, you know there has been talk for YEARS about the bridge. Yes, yes. The bridge.

Well, on Tuesday, Portland City Council will be holding a hearing on the Columbia River Crossing's "Locally Preferred Alternative" or LPA. This proposal would allow state transportation agencies to plan and eventually build a 10-14 lane highway in the I-5 corridor.

I happen to believe that building 10-14 lane freeways is not the answer. If we build it, cars (and smog that chokes our children's air) will come. That's not good. I know that there will be some new bridge, but I don't think we need to rush the project until we have a COMPREHENSIVE plan that includes light rail, bike routes, and other earth friendly alternatives for commuters.

Fortunately, the Portland Mercury just announced that Commissioner Saltzman is proposing on Tuesday that the City Council withold support of the LPA until an independent study can be completed that looks at the long-term impact the LPA would have on recongestion rates and greenhouse gas rates.

This, to me, is a sensible plan. Why vote for something unless you have all the facts?

So, I wrote a letter to all the Commissioners asking them to support Saltzman's proposal.

Here it is:

Dear City Commissioner:

My name is Jess and I am a proud member of the North Portland community. In fact, for the past eleven years I have lived three blocks from I-5.

I'm not a major political activist. Just a wife, mother, and teacher. To be frank, I've generally been quite pleased with the decisions our elected city officials have made to support livability in our great city.

The Columbia River Crossing's LPA is the cause for my first letter. I am very concerned that unless the City Council acts decisively and quickly to stop the LPA, the I-5 corridor will eventually blossom into 10-14 lanes of smoggy gridlock. To borrow from Kinsella, 'If we build it, cars will come.'

I know that Commissioner Saltzman will be making a very sensible proposal at Tuesday's hearing for the LPA; his proposal states that Portland City Council will withhold support until an independent study can be done to determine how much the LPA will increase greenhouse gasses and increase congestion.

Saltzman's plan is a sensible proposal, and I urge you to stand with Commissioner Saltzman on this crucial issue.

Your hard work for livability has paid off here in North Portland. When I moved into the Interstate Corridor in 1997 there was no MAX line, a dirth of neighborhood stores and coffee shops, and an absence of will to improve the parks and schools in our beautiful neighborhood. Under your leadership, I have watched the Interstate Corridor come to life with families, bike commuters, grocery stores, bike shops, cafes, and rehabilitated parks. I am proud to raise my family here.

I am very concerned that the LPA would reverse positive momentum of the North Portland neighborhoods and reverse the progressive transportation decisions that have made Portland a beacon of livability to those around the world. I know that building bigger freeways doesn't ease congestion in the long term. It only breeds smoggy air and more gridlock. This is not good for North Portland or the Portland metro area.

Please, don't pass the LPA.

Instead, vote with Commissioner Saltzman and support his sensible proposal to study the long-term impact of the the LPA.

Sincerely,
Jess

Hey, if you, dear readers, want to stand up for livability in our great state, please consider registering your support here. It's easy. You don't have to be a nerd like me and write your own letter. Environment Oregon provides one for you.

Or, if you're more of a talker, give them a call (PS--I called AND wrote--I'm such a dork):

Mayor Tom Potter, 503-823-4120

Commissioner Sam Adams, 503-823-3008

Commissioner Nick Fish, 503-823-3589

Commissioner Randy Leonard, 503-823-4682

It only takes a minute. And it makes you feel good.

A big thanks to my neighbor J. for educating me about this important issue. I have smart, informed, politically active neighbors. I see more letter writing in my future...

We are...under construction.

The Corner

2008-06-30T07:10:00.000-07:00

Caution: Rambling Soapboxy Post Ahead

I know I'm stating the obvious here--teenagers need to be parented. Working with adolescents, I can tell who is actively parented and who is turned loose to the world of endless video games, junk food, unsupervised hanging out with friends, and an empty house after school and all summer.

So, this is something I think about a lot. How am I going to parent my someday teenager. I'll tell you what I'm not going to do: let him hang out on the corner of the park (at the intersection of two busy streets) with a group of 15-30 other mostly male teens. Please. It's a powder keg.

And, it's something I see EVERY DAY now that I moved across from a park in North Portland. I'm not exaggerating. There are dozens of teens who have nothing to do and all day to do it--with absolutely NO adult supervision. These are 14, 15, 16, 17, and 18 year old young people.

To be frank, it pisses me off. I'm not advocating that every parent micromangage their teen, read their journals, or hound them about their every move. I just think that parents need to make sure their teen has an engaging, semi-supervised place to be all summer--like a summer job or camp or helping elderly neighbors and relatives.

Here's what happens when teens are left unsupervised--two girls start fighting over a boy. The mob of teens flocks around them and eggs them on. Pretty soon, there are fifty teens screaming and yelling and enouraging the girls to keep fighting. Literally, a mob. We saw this a few weeks ago when we were outside eating dinner. I've seen lots of fights in my life, but never one as brutal as this. We called the cops.

Before the police arrived, one of the girls managed to crawl into a friend's car and they sped off. The other girl was cheered on by the crowd. Then, someone came over and handed her a baby that she immediately started to feed.

And so the cycle continues.

I know that not every child is planned. I know that not everyone lives in a dual-income family. I know that lots of people struggle to survive. However, I believe, with every ounce of who I am, that children of ALL ages need active, involved parents.

I think I know where the abdication of parenting teens might have originated: there was a report that came out during the Reagan administration called "A Nation at Risk". Basically, it was a declaration of our "failing" public school system. The subtext of this document is that if we can "fix" public schools, we can save kids.

I'm all for improving schools. I'm a big believer in positive school reform.

However, I know one thing for sure:

All the school reform in the world won't save kids. Only parents can save kids.

You know though, the media and the politicians don't like to talk about parental responsibility because the consumers and voters pay their salaries. And media consumers and voters are parents.

I know I sound like a conservative talk show host--which I sooooo am not. But, really, we need to start a movement that pushes people to parent their teens and stop believing the lies that it is the school's job or society's job to raise teens. It is the parent's job. Period.

I think I'm going to start selling bumper stickers that say: Schools don't save kids, families save kids.

All right. I feel better now. Thanks for letting me share. I think today, I won't feel so pissy when I pass by all the unsupervised and unchallenged teens on the corner.

We are...under construction.

Our first BIG gig

2008-06-25T06:59:00.000-07:00

Great news everyone! Singers and Stompers LLC will be performing at the Portland Children's Museum during their "Munch and Music" program on July 24th and July 31st. You can pack a lunch, grap your little ones, and head to the museum...and after a rousing morning of creative play inside, you can mosey outside for some lunch and live music/entertainment. Ben is working on recording his original songs for kids. The cd will be available for purchase at the CM event. I'm so excited. Only 30 more days...

Weekend: A Story in Pictures

2008-06-24T07:43:00.000-07:00

55 lbs of strawberries

Plus lots of help.

=200 jars of strawberry jam. Wedding favors.

Bikes and roses.

Friends. No cars. Lots of bikes. Six miles.

My niece and nephew

Mad balancing skills.

Have circus. Will travel.

Hula hooping.

Chickens.

Just your average weekend in nopo.

We are...under construction.

The 411

2008-06-21T08:21:00.000-07:00

Backfence was delightful. The storytellers, who all told six minute impromptu stories about summer love, were hilarious, sweet, honest. The sun was just settling behind the west hills and there was a nice cool breeze to keep the warm air moving. Essentially, perfect Portland weather. L, S, Ben and I hung out at a table outside. Tour de Crepes has roll up doors and a pa system, so we could see and hear the story tellers AND enjoy the fabulous weather. As if it wasn't good enough, RSG and HG joined us during the second half--after RSG rocked the stage in the Popina's swimsuit show during intermission. RSG is as engaging in real life as she is in blogland. She's the real deal. Anyway, a great evening. Looking forward to August's Backfence, theme: "True Colors".

Segue:

Music Sprouts is not dead, just reborn as "Singers and Stompers". After a lovely visit with our friend's friend who is a partner at a monster big law firm downtown (and probably more lawyer than we need--but we like him so much we'll keep on retainer--when we earn some money), we discovered that Music Sprouts, while not officially trademarked by anyone else, is likely to face a lawsuit for trademark infringement because it is similar to some giant coporate conglomorate's name. Said giant corporate conglomorate has taken action against 37 companies for trademark infringement...and won. Even though we love the name, we thought it prudent to rethink our brand.

So, after much soul and internet searching, Singers and Stompers became a reality. All the official government paperwork was filed this past week, so as of next week we'll be good to go. Hats off to all of you out there that run your own businesses. Just navigating the IRS paperwork alone could be a full-time job.

We spent everyday calling daycare centers and preschools. And by we, I mean, mostly Ben. We made some great contacts and will be dropping off a cd of Ben playing original songs for kids to many of our contacts. The cd is brilliant, btw. Seriously, he is soooo good. I'm not just saying that because he's my brother. He really is an amazing musician and has a TOTAL gift for connecting with the little ones.

I'll keep you posted on our progress.

Singers and Stompers is my major project this summer--in between snuggling newborns, cooking, cleaning, and ss's swim team.

Today: make bread, wash windows and floors, walk with my buddy L., and babysit for some new parents who need/deserve a night to hang out at a restaurant--sans babies--and just enjoy each other's company. Tomorrow is Portland Parkways. Our good buddies are coming in with their little guys for the event. Then a birthday party here at the coh.

That's the 411.

We are...under construction.

More Good Busy

2008-06-17T05:39:00.000-07:00

RSG has inspired me to post about more good busy which is going down later this week. Thursday is Bites for Rights, an event where a bunch of restaurants donate 15% of their sales to Basic Rights Oregon. Which means, here at u.c. homebase, we'll be enjoying food and financially supporting fairness. Which is good.

So, Thursday will find us biking to either Pizza Fino or Vita (I can't decide) for a yummy dinner. There are lots more eateries to choose from, but these are two of our favs.

We'll bike there, and hopefully my brother and his so will join us. Then, we'll ride over to Tour de Crepes for a storytelling event sponsored by backfence. This month's theme: summer love.

But wait there's more..

Sunday is the Portland Parkways event. Portland was inspired by Bogotá, Colombia's "Ciclovia". I'm pretty stoked. I've got the old Physiofit buffed up and ready to go. Six miles of car-free roads for biking family fun.

Sigh.

Love summer. Good busy.

We are...under construction.

Good Busy

2008-06-17T05:26:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was the first official day of summer break...and it was marvelous--sunny, 70's, blue skies. A quientessential Portland July day. Only, it's only June, which means that yesterday was fool's gold. Sure enough, today I woke up to foreboding clouds around the house. Damn.

But yesterday was great. I spent the morning drinking coffee and reading the paper in my sunroom (sigh) and then went over to the park with sweet son and some friends from co-housing (coh). They played and laughed and went crazy on the swings. Then home for a quick lunch and off to my old neighbor's house (okay, she's only like a block away now that we moved, so she's still my neighbor) and helped her with her darling six week old twins. This will be, I hope, a semi-regular event this summer because after three hours of snuggling little munchkins I felt a physical buzz--like I just had a glass of wine on an empty stomach.

Then, off to swim lessons and swim team for sweet son. He has been stuck at the "otter" level class for three sessions. Someone suggested we get him on swim team where he'll practice an hour a day with the coaches and progress from early swimming skills (half dog paddle/half front crawl) to a confident swimmer.

I was skeptical, but he kicked butt. He swam about 10 lengths in an hour and worked on a bunch of different skills.

We celebrated by biking down to Laughing Planet for dinner. Then home for cupcakes and a dog walk.

Finally, we crashed in bed and watched a special on Eleanor Roosevelt on American Experience. Love that woman.

Yeah, good busy.

We are...under construction.

Score

2008-06-11T19:12:00.000-07:00

We scored big time with the new house. Yeah, yeah, it's nice and new and green and pretty. That's what hooked us, but we didn't realize we scoring BIG time with the co-housing thing.

We KNEW it was in a co-housing community...which we were tepid about at best. My brother and his sweetie live 1.6 miles away and two of our closest friends (you know the ones that are more like family...) live .5 miles away. So, we're not hurting for close by support. If anything, sometimes it felt like we were OVER relationshiped, what with hell--I mean nursing school--sucking our time and energy away by the bucketful.

Before we bought this place, we talked to the developer, who happens to be the founder of the original co-housing community (seven apartments that he converted into seven condos and sold to like-minded folks who committed to the co-housing concept five years ago). Plus, he lives in our co-housing community. He assured us that this is a low-key community--no weekly meals or anything. Just a once a month meeting. Four work parties a year. An annual ice cream social.

Done. So, in we jumped with our co-housing trepidation. The benefits became apparent the first weekend. Need help moving a ginormous piece of furniture in? Two guys come running out of their homes and hoist it up the two flights of stairs, dismantle it with their tools (have I mentioned we have no fixing skills and even fewer tools...which I guess is part of the problem...), and re-assemble it when it when we get it in the room.

Need a night alone with your spouse? The first Friday we were here, someone came over and offered to take ss to a play with the other little boy that lives here. They were gone from 6:30-9.

Need to have the blind installation person measure your windows that are 30 feet off the floor? Dang, you don't have a big ladder. Oh wait, you live in a co-housing community. There is a community work room/project room set up with tools. Crisis averted. Ladder found.

You sold your old microwave because you are shallow and it was yellow and didn't go in your new kitchen? Then, your friend comes over the night you move in to hang all your pictures because you are recovering from the flu and you don't know how to use a drill anyway. She is hungry for your leftover Thai, but you can't heat it up because you are shallow and sold your perfectly functioning yellow microwave. Oh wait. You live in a co-housing community. You run next door to the common unit which has a full kitchen and heat up the Thai.

Endless. Truly. I've got a million of these stories and I've only been here three weeks.

Yeah. We scored. Big time.

I'm off to my first co-housing community meeting. More updates on adventures in co-housing to follow...

Meme

2008-05-29T17:16:00.000-07:00

I like being meme'd because it gives me a concrete topic to blog about when I'm blogged out. Right now, btw, I'm brewing with blogging ideas (living in a co-housing community--soooo much to blog about!!!). However, I don't want to write about it until this weekend when I'm done taking pictures I can post. Really, you have to see it to believe it. Good things, I promise.

So, the meme. Thanks Wacky Mommy. Love it. Here we go:

1) What were you doing 10 years ago:

Buying my first house because Milo bit the plumber and we were getting evitcted. We were 23, we had NO MONEY, and we knew we could either buy a house and control who came in and out...or put Milo to sleep (a theme lately, I know). We walked into a great program through the city that allowed first time home buyers to purchase homes in North and Northeast Portland with no money down and a killer interest rate. Our mortgage payment ended up being LESS than our rent. Our real estate agent was 81. And she found us a kick ass house and a great program that allowed us to buy the house. She saved Milo's life.

2)What are the five things at the top of your "to do" list:

a) Dive Bikini Atoll in the Marshall Islands on the year of my 20th anniversary and my son's sixteenth birthday. Renew my vows with wh on the shores of Bikini Atoll (it's a family thing...).

b) Be a present, active parent for my son--especially during his middle and high school years.

c) Take a family vacation to New York where we stay at a five-star hotel and attend Broadway shows (okay, this is more for my ss).

d) Sell my car and live carless for one year.

e) Become a Principal (I think this is a goal...).

3) What are five snacks you enjoy:

a) Strawberries
b) Grapes
c) Sea Salt Kettle Chips
d) Sour Dough Bread
e) Red Wine (is that a snack???).

4) Name some things you would do if you were a millionaire:
Donate heavily to microfinance companies. Set up scholarships for low-income girls. Start a foundation that recruits people who are underrepresented in the teaching profession. NEWSFLASH: Our teaching ranks DO NOT reflect the students we teach. Pay for my son's college. I wouldn't buy stuff--I'm trying to get RID of stuff!!!

5) Name some places you have lived:
Boston, MA; Madison, WI, Fond du Lac, WI; Madison, WI (again); Mt. Vernon, Iowa; Milwaukee, WI; Portland, OR.

6) Name some bad habits you have:
Not recycling (wh sorts through the trash for me...), biting my nails, being judgey (it hurts to put that one out there...), and being crabby with my mom.

7) Name some jobs you've had:
Clerk and Assistant Manager at a frozen yogurt shop (hs); RA, HRA, nude model for life drawing class, bartender, and newspaper clerk (college); social services, staffing, and teaching (Portland).

8) Name five people you're tagging:
Okay, most of the blogging people I know have been tagged by Wacky Mommy. Here are the others. Tag, you're it: Megan, Erin, Jean Bean, Nurse Jack, E, M, and Little Man

This weekend: adventures in co-housing!

Transitions II: Milo

2008-05-23T08:27:00.000-07:00

We used to have two lab mixes: Milo and Simon. Simon was younger by 4 years. They were ying and yang. Milo: high strung and active. Simon: Mellow and lazy. I'm not going to lie; Simon was my favorite.

About three years ago, Simon developed a lump on the side of his head. Vet didn't know if it was cancer or an infection. We had it biopsied--no sign of cancer. So we went full-bore with anti-biotics. The growth continue to rage in his head. First it messed up the equilibrium in his ears. We tried stronger medicine. A week later his right eye was completely occluded by the gray mass. This is it, we thought. We dropped ss off at our friend's house and went to the vet with euthanasia on the mind. Simon had easily wrapped his large black paws around the vet's heart. She couldn't bear to do it. One more time she said. Let's try a stronger dose, she said. So, we brought our half-blind, tippy dog back home. The next week he started having trouble swallowing. Back to the vet we went, prepared to put him down. Once again, she fed us a strong dose of hope. One more try. I think, in the end, he was on antibiotics for horses. Home we went with our starving, half-blind, tippy dog. This time we had horse antibiotics and a horse syringe. The only way to get food in his tummy was to puree wet dog food in the blender, fill the syringe, stick it down his throat while he fought the process with all 80 pounds of his might. The next week, we woke up one day to find him gasping for air on the kitchen floor. It was time.

So, we did what needed to be done. We spent a good half hour holding Simon in our arms and crying after the injection. Part of our grief was the loss of such a great companion. But there was a good part of the sadness that welled up from guilt. Why did we let him suffer so long?

Which brings me to Milo. Milo is an unusually active, healthy, vibrant 12 and a half year old dog. He and I have had an uneasy relationship. Still, he is part of the family, and he is mellowing some in his old age. In human years, he would be about 84. Truth be told, the last year has been the best. He still goes on 3 mile walks, but he now likes to cuddle and sleep for long periods of the day--just like me.

The one MAJOR downside of the age thing is his bowls and bladder, and his inablilty to hold either. This is a dog that NEVER had accidents. He was house trained when we got him 11 and a half years ago (what a wild 1 and a half year old he was!). For the past six months, we're lucky if we can go three out of seven days without him having a number one or two accident. We have been keeping the basement door open so he can go downstairs on the cement floor. Which is still gross, but at least we can wash it with a bucket of bleach water.

Now, we're moving into a place that is ENTIRELY hardwood floors. No linoleum. No tile (save the bathroom). No basement. No cement.

You can see where I'm going with this...

We know we waited too long with Simon, yet putting a dog down for incontinence seems, as wh puts it, heartless. Jesus, he's 84. There are few octogenarians who ARE continent.

But, I refuse to live in piles of feces and urine. We've agreed to try crating him and hiring a dog letter-outer during the day. Wh is going to try setting his alarm in the middle of the night to let him out. Hopefully, that will do the trick.

If it doesn't, we'll take him for one last loop around the neighborhood, lift him into the car (his hips are so bad he can't jump up any more), and take him to the vet for his final sleep.

Cruel? Maybe.

Your thoughts?

We are...under construction.

Transitions

2008-05-22T14:52:00.001-07:00

So, we're moving. Which is weird because wh still has 7 more months of nursing school left. Doesn't seem like the most obvious time for a transition. It went down like this:

While looking at houses for my soon-to-be sister-in-law and brother, we happened by an open house on some condos in a co-housing community (no, we're not living in one house with 12 other people--we have our own stand alone unit and share a common unit--parties, out-of-town guests, etc...-- with the other folks next door) a block and a half away from our house. What the hell? In we went. Dare I say, I felt it--that "it" thing you feel when you feel like you've found home. Which is weird. I, generally speaking, do not feel that "I'm home" feeling in structures built after 1940. Don't get me wrong...many of my close friends live in homes built after 1940 (wink, wink), and I love visiting them. But somehow, nothing says home to me like slightly slanted floors and a corroding brick fireplace.

So, moving wasn't on the agenda. Until I walked into the open house at the co-housing community down the block and fell in love. Okay, one of the big selling points is this:

All of the window and door trim is made out of "freshly hewn" wood from a giant tree that fell in Vancouver. The window trim and the lack of yard. NO MORE YARD WORK!!! There are people out there, Lelo/Sassy Gardener, et al, who love to get down with their bad selves out in their gorgeous gardens. I love my garden, and dare I say, it is just now at a point where I'm happy with it; however I don't cherish the work it takes to create and maintain it. I'm more of a garden enjoyer...not a garden worker. I could live with the garden work. Not the lawn, I HATE MY LAWN. Check that: I hate dandelions. Almost as much as I hate chemicals to kill dandelions. So, each year, my lawn becomes more overrun by those nasty violators who taunt me with their waggin yellow heads. Bastards.

I digress. After touring the condo, sis-in-law-to-be (siltb??) and I ran back to get wh. Which wasn't much of a trip, being that we're about two blocks away. He resisted at first, despite the fact that HE has been itching for a move for quite some time. He went so far as to instigate a search for new home construction after we had to have some minor repair work done on the house a few years ago. He convinced himself that stuff doesn't break in new houses (he'll learn quickly...it's never ending...no matter where you live...the constant fight against structural deteriorion).

Anywho...we finally talked him into touring, and wouldn't you know, he loved it too. We decided to put our house on the market and see what happened. Everything fell into place and now we'll be moving this weekend.

Sadly for me, I spent most of last night on the toilet. The stomach flu has ripped through our family. First ss, then wh...now me. It is nasty. I have been okay for a few hours. Pepto helps. Wh says I licked my son's toothbrush so I'd get sick so I wouldn't have to help move. I told him it serves him right after I had to wash linen he sullied when he had a stomach-flu-related accident while sleeping last week. Too much information?

We're in transition.

More transitions tomorrow. Milo. Yep...stay tuned.

I'm not dead

2008-05-15T20:14:00.000-07:00

I know I've been awol. I'm a fair-weather blogger. Literally, it seems. Why I decide to write NOW, when it's 85 degrees out...?

A cyberspace friend inspired me to write again. So here I am. But, of course, now I can't think of anything. I'll try again tomorrow.

Ouu..one thing: Do you think it's wrong to vote for random candidates who are running for random political positions (you know...second district representative--what do they do?) because you see said random candidate's sign in the same yard that holds an Obama or Hillary sign? I mean, if the homeowner likes Obama or Hillary, isn't that proof that they have a not-too-f'd-up view of the world?

For whatever reason, we didn't get our voter's guide pamphlets and I have NO idea who to vote for when it comes to all the unknown random positions/candidates. I guess I should do my civic duty and actually RESEARCH the random candidates.

I owe that much to Susie B. and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Hard to believe it has only been 88 years...

Business Sprouts

2008-03-19T05:27:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I have a big announcement. One of the main reasons my brother and his wonder HG moved up here NOW is because he and I are opening a music education business called, Music Sprouts. Essentially, we'll be providing 1/2 hour music classes to preschools.

See, Ben, my brother is very musical. He taught himself to play guitar in adolescence and he pretty much hasn't stopped since. Almost every job he's had involves music. He's our very own folkrockstar. Additionally, he is AMAZING with kids and has extensive experience teaching music to all ages.

Then there's me. I love education and kids and organizing. I'll be the office manager/classroom assistant during the summer.

What a team.

I wanted to wait until we had our website up before announcing it here, but we have meetings with our lawyer and website developer next Monday. Music Sprouts started to feel real after we wrote the business plan and curriculum last fall. It began to feel even more like a reality when we registered it with the state in January, and now it feels like an honest to goodness business. And I just couldn't wait to share.

We are...under construction.

Jeans Drama

2008-03-16T01:54:00.000-07:00

Inventory of pants in my closet:
*Three pairs of khakis--one ankle length and two capris (I know, I know, not cool--but good for work).
*One newish pair of Gap's "Long and Lean" jeans. My favorite.
*One seven year-old pair of "Long and Lean" jeans that I can only wear gardening or camping because of holes and they are fastened with a safety pin.
*Two pairs of J. Jill slacks. For work. Kind of mom jeansesque. But more slacksy than jeansy.

Which means...I need jeans for weekend wear. Which means...I have to go shopping for jeans. I do not heart jeans shopping.

I'm short. Like 5'2 and 1/2". Designers think that all short women are shaped like pre-pubescent boys--rail thin. Not me. Especially below the waist. Finding a pair of jeans that fit my behind and are still short enough for my short legs is a challenge (understatement of the century).

Add to the shopping drama the fact that I have recently seen models in catalogues and magazines wearing high waisted paints (hello 1985). Wow. I don't know if I can give up the lower waisted pants (I said "lower"--not ass-crack low). Anything that rides above the belly button now feels confining.

Suggestions on stores that sell jeans that meet all of my criteria? I'd like to break away from my Long and Leans from Gap. It's time to branch out.

We are...under construction.

Presenting

2008-03-09T13:32:00.002-07:00

I know I've been AWOL for a few weeks. The gorgeous people in this picture are the reason. Meet my brother and his wonder girlfriend. We've been hanging out for the past two weeks. They just moved up from Phoenix, Arizona. Happily for me and my little family, they are staying with us. Life here at under construction home base has been decidely less stressful since bro and his wg drop sweet son off at school AND pick him up after school. They also cook and clean. And pay for groceries, fix things, and make home improvements. They're currently looking for a house (I don't know why they're not content to live in our guest bedroom and share our house's ONE bathroom), but wh and I are in no hurry top see them go. An added benefit for me is that I have someone to talk to when wh spends 30+ hours a weekend working on nursing school stuff. Happy, lucky me.

Suburban Daddies

2008-02-22T19:15:00.000-08:00

I have this friend, let's call him SD--not to be confused with STD, but I digress, with whom I shared a site I use for parenting ideas and resources. The site is, of course, urbanmamas. Urbanmamas is great place for Portland parents who are struggling to balance the needs of self, child/ren, and spouse--all while maintaining a home that looks like it could appear in the pages of Cottage Style magazine, the Ikea catalog, or the Pottery Barn flier (but that's a whole 'nother post)

SD, shrewd mind that he is, was intrigued and a little incensed by urbanmamas (aren't we all?). SD lives in an outer suburb. Here in Portland, there is a snobbery associated with city dwellers. The local media and innumerable bloggers (myself included) tout the many benefits of urban life here in Portland: great restaurants, innumerable theater companies, Washington Park, the Pearl, progressive politics, etc... We tend to get a little, ahem, effusive, at times.

SD decided that the suburbs need a champion. A blogger who extols the virtues of life on the other side of the West Hills. A blogger who writes about the good stuff goin' on beyond the inner core.

SD is such a man. We've already developed a few tag lines.

For example:

Suburbs--a place where parents who love their kids (and want to keep them safe) live.

Suburbs--an escape from the tattoo'd "too cool for school" crowd

Suburbs--where parents drive SUV's because they care more about their own kids' safety than gas mileage.

Suburbs--why bike when you can drive?

Suburbs--'cuz who doesn't love Costco?

SD--I'm calling you out! The suburbs needs a PR guy in Portland. You are the man for the job.

Anyone have anymore taglines or story ideas for SD? Post 'em here. Maybe SD will find some inspiration.

We are...under construction.

Sad-Funny

2008-02-18T18:48:00.000-08:00

Want to hear something kind of sad-funny? My students are in the middle of the state writing test administered to all seventh graders here in our great state. They're writing an "on-demand" piece (i.e.--writing a two-page essay; topic being one of three that the state offers each student; and they have to write the old-fashioned way--no spell check:). So they're kind of stressed, but in a ho-hum stressed kind of way, as these munchkins are the MOST assessed people in the history of THE WORLD! Like, "Oh yeah, these again. I hope I do well. Last year I just met the benchmark, but my two best friends exceeded." You try to tell them to keep their scores private, but hello--they're TWELVE!

They've had monster test prep courses and standardized tests since third grade. They're getting kind of used to the barrage of multiple choice questions/on-demand writing that comes crashing down on them every spring. And the academic hierarchal social sorting that comes when the scores come out.

So the sad-funny part? Each student will be pulled out of the middle of their state writing exam to take a district-mandated reading fluency test that will be administered by a stranger (retired teachers).

I kid you not.

The students are being tested DURING their state tests. I wonder what the limit will be--three, four, five, or more tests at one time.

I wish I were kidding.

Sad-funny.

We are...under construction.

I'm an aunt!

2008-02-16T13:53:00.000-08:00

Meet Marigold Lightning, Matt and Megan's baby. Ummm, she is such a snuggley pumpkin. I might dognap her. Is that wrong?

Power Of Two - Indigo Girls

2008-02-10T15:16:00.001-08:00

Nursing school has been difficult. I have not posted the goriest of the gory details about the difficulties, especially when it comes to my marriage. However, know it's been rough--certainly the most difficult point in our 14 year relationship. I can boil it down to wh having to give near 100%of his time and energy to school. And me not being very good at sucking it up. I'm more of a diva than I would have liked to believe. I'm trying to be supportive, but more often I find myself saying things like, "I know you have to study for 46 hours this weekend for a cumululative mid-term on Monday, but what about my needs?"

Except louder and with a few swear words. Supportive partner? Not so much. This year, to put it bluntly, has not been my finest hour.

So, wh got a week off between January term and Spring term. It was the best week of the year. We kicked it off with a kid-free weekend--Nonna watched ss from Friday to Sunday. Then, we had the most mellow week ever. Ss enjoyed sleeping in until 7, instead of rushing out the door to be dropped off at 6:45 AM so we can get to nursing school and work. Wh and I had long conversations about random topics, we ate good food, our house was picked up. The closer we got to the end of the week, the more anxious I got. It was like a perpetual Sunday evening. I was trying to enjoy the last moments of freedom, but couldn't get my mind off of the sacrifices to come.

Which is where this song comes in. The Indigo Girls' "Power of Two" is what we danced to at our reception (which was 11 years-ago this July). I love every part of the song--but especially the beginning. You know the part about "a cooler and a two day suitcase"? Wh and I like to think of ourselves as crazy spontaneous like that. But we're not. Not even close. We like order and routine and predictability.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I discovered "a cooler and a two-day suitcase" yesterday morning.

Yep, after working a 5 AM -1 PM shift at the hospital (on top of begin a full-time student in an accelerated nursing program, wh also works on the weekends at a hospital lab), wh arranged a surprise trip to the coast for our last hooray before hell...I mean nursing school...begins again on Monday.

Sure, Seaside isn't the "way out in the country" that Amy and Emily sing about. And I'm pretty sure they were talking about a romantic getaway, while we celebrated family-style with marathon visits to the arcade and swimming pool with our six year-old; we laughed and watched movies and ate junk food.

And so, when I'm staring into the abyss of being a nursing school widow (I'm only slightly exaggerating), I'll remember our song and the trip, and I'll try like hell to be a grown up for the next 10 months.

December 2008 cannot come soon enough. I want my husband back.

We are...under construction.

PS--How young do Emily and Amy look in the video?

Ohmylorditsbeautiful

2008-02-05T20:04:00.000-08:00

What would you do with five boxes of ceramic circles?

Megan and her wh just finished remodeling their bathroom. I LOVE the circilicious floor--genius!

Mixed Feelings

2008-02-04T06:37:00.000-08:00

I'm thrilled of course to know that Oregon's lbgt citizens will be lining up to register as committed partners today. This means they'll be able to enjoy many (but not all--there is still work to do!) of the benefits afforded to married couples.

But February 4th is also a sad day for me. See, today the bill that Governor Kulongoski signed into law back in November goes into effect. And it is a law that adversely impacts many of my students and their families.

The law requires that all people applying for or renewing an Oregon driver's license show proof of US citizenship or proof of permanent resident status. In Oregon there are estimated to be 150,000 to 175,000 undocumented folks. Many of the students that I serve do not have documentation or their parents do don't have documentation to be in the United States.

I really wasn't thinking much about the law. I knew that Oregon was one of seven states that does not require proof of citizenship, and I could understand the governor's perspective when he signed the law--wanting to shore up immigration law and come into compliance with the the Department of Homeland Securities immigration mandates that states must enact by 2017.

However, I didn't think much about the law becuase, quite frankly, I am overwhelmed by conversations about immigration policy.

Now, I want to post an event that happened in one of my classes last week that highlights the pressure that many Oregon students feel because of the law. In the interest of protecting my student's privacy, I won't detail said event.

Just know that the event brought this issue into crystal clear focus for me.

Here is what I know:

Some Oregon families are talking about going back to their country of origin because of the new law.

Whether they go or not, there is a load of anxiety among many families who rely on driving a car to get to their jobs.

Many of the parents who do not have documentation to be in the US gave birth to their children on US soil--which makes these kids US citizens.

I can't tell you the story of what happened in my class last week. I can just tell you that today I'm sad because many of my students are feeling the pinch of the new law. They are worried for their parents, aunts, uncles, and friends.

And, as always, I think--what would Jesus do? Indeed!

So, I don't have any answers, but I'm bummed for my kids. Still, I'll go to school and remind them that they can be anything they want to be and that education is power. I hope my words don't ring hollow.

Yes, today is a day of mixed emotions for me. When I'm feeling down about the driver's license law I'll just think of the long line of folks that will register as domestic partners today. That'll make me smile.

We've come a long way, but we have a long way to go.

We are...under construction.

Think Spring

2008-02-02T16:54:00.000-08:00

Daffodils are coming! I found these wee ones peeking out of the cold dirt in the garden.

Despite the small signs of thawing, our cat Harriet prefers the warmth of the couch to the chill out on the porch. In a few weeks though, I predict that she'll be savoring the warmer days, and we'll have a hard time getting her to come visit us inside. She is a warmer weather goddess.

Here's to spring. It can't come soon enough!

We are...under construction.

Yeah Baby!

2008-02-01T17:13:00.000-08:00

Today the judge overturned the halt on Oregon's Domestic Partnership Law! According to Basic Rights Oregon: "Oregon’s 36 counties now have the ability to issue domestic partnership licenses to caring, committed couples all over the state!"

I can't help but think about Margaret Mead, who said: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

To the folks at Basic Rights Oregon who have been laboring for over ten years to bring this law to fruition: thank you, thank you, thank you!

PS--Don't think Alliance Defense Fund is going down without a fight. They'll appeal. We'll win. They'll go back to Arizona--and stay there we hope.

We are...under construction.

Long Haul

2008-01-30T20:21:00.000-08:00

Okay, that's what I'm talking about--Oregonians stepping out to reclaim what is rightly ours: domestic partnership laws for our lbgqt citizens. For more background on why we rallied, click here. Suffice it to say, February 1st is going to be a big day. Regardless of who wins, it looks like the issue with end up in the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals. Which means...we're in this for the long haul. I see more rallying, vigiling, donating (time and money) in Oregon's future.

One of the highlights, for me, was seeing Keith and Antoinette Edwards speak. Their son is gay, and they are loud and proud advocates for the cause. They are in the process of starting a Pflag chapter for African American parents. Go Keith and Antoinette.

Another treat was Governor Roberts. Wow, what a force of nature she is. I would follow her anywhere. President Roberts in 2012?

I'll end with my favorite chant from the evening:

Hey hey, ho ho, bigots pack your bags and go!

My family modified it:
Hey hey, ho ho, haters pack your bags and go!

Alliance Defense Fund--we're talking to you.

Two reasons we don't want a snow day tomorrow:

2008-01-29T18:36:00.000-08:00

1) Wh has competencies for his nursing program. Basically, he has to perform seven different medical-y type procedures (that's a technical term) in front of a panel of nursing professors. Each procedure has 30+steps. He has memorized and practiced as much as possible, and now he just wants to get it over with already! Snow day would not help the anxiety level in this house.

2) Rally for Equality. Gay marriage is a human rights issue. Period.

Wednesday, January 30th
Terry Shrunk Plaza, SW 3rd and Madison in downtown Portland
5:30 PM

Come stand tall for human rights.

So, no, we've got too much going on tomorrow. Snow and ice would not be helpful.

We are...under construction.

Only in Portland...

2008-01-26T16:14:00.000-08:00

I'm at E's birthday party in Southeast--'cuz you know that's where the roller rink is, feeling a little sorry for myself because I'm not meeting Lelo and friends at Ladybug coffee. I was especially disappointed about not chatting with Wacky Mommy and More Hockey Less War about how PPS's school choice policies have gutted North and Northeast Portland schools--yaddayaddayadda.

So, I'm sitting at a table with the other parents at E's birthday party (go E!) when I hear the dad of a kid in sweet son's class tell the mom of another kid in the class that his wife just got a job doing community outreach for Portland Public. Hmmm, I think, that sounds like the job Wacky Mommy just got. Then I notice he's wearing a hockey shirt. I think you see where I'm going with this...

Yep, turns out he's More Hockey Less War. I was star-struck. I got all kind of impressed. He was totally gracious and humble--of course. We chatted about equity (or lack there of) in Portland schools, racism, classism, school choice, charters, middle school configurations, districts, etc... My social circle rarely overlaps with folks that are as passionate about neighborhood schools and equity as I am, so it was great to talk to someone who dwarfs my level of involvement and knowledge in this issue.

I was inspired to help. As you know, this under construction year will end (GOD WILLING!!) with me working part-time and volunteering at ss's school and his feeder middle school. I told More Hockey Less War I planned to get involved in the fight then. He encouraged me to write a letter to school board members and the superintendent NOW. I always think of activism as hands-on work. Like volunteering in schools. Since I'm teaching or commuting 10 hours a day, I'm not available for much down and dirty activism. Still, I can write a letter or an email.

And so can you. If you live in North Portland, regardless of which school choice decision you made for your own kids...or even if you have kids at all, consider writing a letter to a school board member. Please tell them that their transfer policies have drained 40 million dollars out of neighborhood schools. The damage is done. PPS needs to right the wrong by funding the schools that have literally been left behind.

I have a lot to learn about the school choice policies and the impact they have on public schools. The district I work for doesn't have such school-gutting policies, so I've been out of the loop. Sweet son will begin high school in 8 short years here in Portland Public. For too long I didn't pay attention to the policies of a district that has literally siphoned dollars and programs away from it's North Portland children. Don't think those dollars matter? Go look at Jefferson's half-empty library or moth-balled elective rooms. Here are the numbers I got from More Hockey Less War:

Math Courses Offered at Jefferson: 6
Math Courses Offered at Wilson: 14

English Courses Offered at Jefferson: 7
English Courses Offered at Wilson: 13

World Languages Courses Offered at Jefferson: 3
World Languages Courses Offered at Jefferson: 17

Music Courses Offered at Jefferson: 0!!! (hey, isn't Jeff supposed to be the arts magnet--wtf?)
Music Courses Offered at Wilson: 15

Art and Theater Courses Offered at Jefferson: 4
Art and Theater Courses Offered at Wilson: 12

Advanced Placement or International Baccalaureate Courses Offered at Jefferson: 0!!!
(again, wtf!!!)
Advanced Placement or International Baccaulaureate Courses Offered at Wilson: 12

I'm paying attention now.

I'm off to write my letter. I hope you will too.

We are...under construction.

Celebrate

2008-01-24T20:03:00.000-08:00

Lots to celebrate this weekend.

Ss's friend E. turns 6. Party at the roller rink. Go E!

I get to work from home on Monday--teacher planning day. Love to work in my pj's. Go me!

One of my bestest college friends has been separated from her s.o. for three + years. They are reunited today. Go M and T and baby A!!! Sending NW love to your MW family. LOVE YOU!

Lelo and more blogging friends are hosting a meet and greet for all blogging peeps. I can't make this one because of the partaaayyy at the roller rink (go E!). Please go in my place and soak up the genius of Lelo, Wacky Mommy, and Melissa Lion. More Hockey, Less War will be there too, I hear. He's so right on about the impact school choice has had on our neighborhoods. These fine blogging folks prove that NoPo is rising up. It is my deep hope that my six year-old's social calendar does not prevent me from making future blogging events. Anyway, here are the details for Saturday's get together:

Saturday, 10am-Noon
Ladybug Coffee
8438 N. Lombard

Belated celebrations:
Baby D turned one (ONE!!!) last week. Go D!

MLK Day-- The World Arts Center event was great. During the lifetime achievement ceremony I learned a lot about the sacrifices and courage of the elder civil rights workers in Portland. We've come a long way, but we have a long way to go. Go Martin and his righteous soldiers of peace and equality!

SAHM and D's--this one's for you

2008-01-24T17:03:00.000-08:00

As ususal, LA Liz tells it like it is. This one goes out to Megan and everyone on the front lines of the domestic front. Once again, Liz makes me think, "Damn, I wish I would have written that!"

Roslyn Hill

2008-01-23T19:28:00.000-08:00

Meet Roslyn Hill. If you know the history of NE Alberta here in my neighborhood, then you know Roslyn Hill. She has worked tirelessly to rebuild a neglected block in a neglected part of our city. But don't just take my word for it...AARP recently honored her with a prestigious Inspire Award. Check it out here.

Go Roslyn.

We are...under construction.

Balk:to refuse to move or act

2008-01-17T23:56:00.000-08:00

Balk was one of the vocabulary words I taught last week. It is also the theme in my household THIS week.

Yesterday, our furnace refused to turn on. Again. Permanently. It is or was a 1987 behemoth that sounded like galloping horses or a small freight train whenever it began to choke out heat. We had a long talk with it when wh began nursing school last summer:

"Listen, we know you're old. We know you're tired. Please. Please. Please. Give us 18 more months. That's all we need. Can you find eighteen more months in the bowls of your grumbly old self? PLEASE."

We thought we had an understanding.

We were wrong.

This past week, the loud, crabby beast finally balked. Not one more day. It began with intermittent work stopages. The first one lasted 5 hours before the warm air came on again. Then seven hours. Then ten hours. Then permanently.

But it's okay, because you know, we're rolling in money this year.

The good news is that we're getting one of those 95+% efficient models. You know, we'll probably save the entire cost of the furnace in gas savings alone in the twelve more months we have until ns is over. Then there is the tax incentive, which is nice.

We had socked away savings for such a disaster. Only we were a few thousand short. Thank GOD for 12 months same as cash financing. That's all I got to say. Here's hoping wh gets a job with a nice sign on bonus right around 12 months from now.

We are...under construction.

Vigil

2008-01-12T10:52:00.000-08:00

Meet my friend S. We have worked together for the better part of ten years, and in that time we have seen each other through my adventures in becoming a mom, her adventures in searching for true love, the horrible journey of losing a parent, and everything in between. I was driving to the Q Center for the vigil last week to meet S. there and thought about somewhere our relationship morphed from coworkers, to friends, to something closer to family. We vigiled outside in the rain because the place was packed--which was wonderful to see. We glimpsed Tom Potter making a speech and saw RSG taking pictures. It was nice to be with folks who are fighting for fairness in a cynical world. S. and I left hopeful and renewed--this will be the year that Oregon ushers in a domestic partnership law for our lbgt citizens. PS--S. is still looking for true love, so if you know anyone who was rallying at the Q center and likes cats, Edgar Allen Poe, red wine, and quiet nights by the fire, let me know.

Spent

2008-01-10T19:34:00.000-08:00

My beautiful extended family just swooped in for a seven day visit. As promised, there was much merry making. It was all I could do each night to drag myself away from the cocktails, family lore, and laughter and plop my sorry ass into bed before 2 AM (not as easy to rebound as it used to be).

Check my email? Read my fav blogs? Exercise? Sleep? Forget about it!

Sadly for me, but happily for my circadian rhythms, everyone left yesterday.

I'm all tuckered out. Completely spent.

I have much to share. Especially an exciting new adventure that my brother and I will begin soon. Also: the candlelight vigil at the Q Center, the best love story I've heard in a long time, and Barack vs. Clinton (I can't decide--can you?)

More later.

Going to bed now.

We are...under construction.

More sky and happy things

2008-01-01T20:46:00.001-08:00

Here is a picture of today's sky in Portland (thank you to my neighbors for this shot of their house). And it was really cold. When we went for our walk tonight it was in the 30's. I started to lose feeling in my toes at about block 8. I know all you Midwesterners are rolling your eyes at this post right about now.

Moving on...

Yesterday I posted my resolution: spend more time doing and appreciating things that make me happy. ESPECIALLY important during this year from hell. I mean year of nursing school.

Here are today's happy things:

3. WALK the four blocks to my favorite store for groceries.

I do a pretty good job walking to the store every week from May through October. What is my problem? From November to April I still shop at my favorite store, I just drive the four blocks. Please. That is just lazy. I love walking. I feel invigorated and closer to my neighbors when I leave the gas hog at home.

Resolved, if it isn't raining, I'll be walking to the market.

2. And I can't walk to the market without my beloved cart. I've got to take advantage of the fact that sweet son is too young to die of embarrassment when we walk to the market with these sweet wheels. He's still at the age when he thinks this contraption is GENIUS. What do you think, I have three more years until I'll have to retire the cart or risk being accused of ruining his life? Love this cart.

resolved: do things that make me happy

2007-12-30T17:35:00.000-08:00

I was inspired by Chookooloonks, who was inspired by Jen, to write down the things that make me happy. My New Year's resolution is to spend more time doing and appreciating the following:

1) Wearing my Earth shoes. I like them because they have a "negative heel" which means your foot is tilted back at a 3.7 degree incline. This is supposed to help improve posture. I'm prone to slouching, but these shoes help me stand tall. Which is nice. Plus, I think they are comfortable and too cute. I LOVE them.

2. Speaking of comfortable and too cute...meet my SmartWool socks. I LOVE THEM.

Normally, I'm all for shopping at thrift stores. However, when it comes to footwear, I'm all about spending money for comfort and quality.

Feel free to post what makes you happy. We can be happy together:)

Segue...one of my siblings and their partner will be moving to Portland this spring. Currently they live in a much warmer, sunnier climate. The move to Portland will be a shock. We're more fleece and clogs (or Earth shoes and SmartWool) than swimsuits and flip flops.

I love these two sunny transplants sooooo much that I fear I might have have oversold our climate. False-advertising for my own personal gain...not so nice.

In order to prepare them for the endless gray days (and clear my conscience) I am going to post a picture of Portland sky everyday until July 4th. Or at least every day that I can remember to take a picture. So, if you have ever contemplated living in the great Northwest, check back here often to try to visualize 9 months of this:

Here is our first picture.

Said sibling and s.o., along with my pop and step-mom, will be here for a week-long visit starting on Thursday. I can't wait!!!! Let the party begin...

We are...under construction.

Human Rights

2007-12-29T11:50:00.000-08:00

Ahhh, coffee and the morning paper. What could be better? I almost dropped my coffee cup when I read this. You have got to be kidding me? Another road block to ensuring basic rights for gay and lesbian couples in Oregon. Then I read Lelo's post here.

I felt so sad. For Lelo and Adri. RSG and HG. Tricia and Kari. My step-sister and her partner. My best friend of 8 years at work. Our friends S and D who built their family through adoption--and whose kids are so loved by two of the best moms on earth. Our society. This is a human rights issue--not just an LBGT issue.

Then I got mad at the conservative Christian right that has waged war against decency and kindness and justice and righteousness...and HUMAN RIGHTS.

What would Jesus do? Indeed!

Care about human rights? Come show your support for human rights by attending this:

A candlelight vigil, Wednesday, January 2nd, at Q Center with Basic Rights Oregon. 5:30-7pm.
69 SE Taylor (at Water Avenue).

Hope to see you there. We can be sad and mad together.

We are...under construction.

Delighted

2007-12-28T21:17:00.000-08:00

Check out my favorite new blog. This is actually a blog that is no longer being updated, but it is fun to peruse the archives. Especially the post I just linked to. I wish I had said that. Or heard it.

The good news is that she has a photo blog here. Prepare to be delighted.

We are...under construction.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas

2007-12-25T12:21:00.000-08:00

Here we are after a candlelight Christmas Eve service. Joseph, aka sweet son, mangaged to get 90% of his one line out. The lamb almost knocked the manger over. Overall, a grand success.

Earlier in the day we delivered gift boxes to elderly gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgendered citizens here in Portland. Through his nursing studies, Wh found out about an amazing organization for LBGT seniors called the Elder Resource Alliance. We can't say enough great things about this organization. Check them out here.

Back here at underconstruction's home base, Santa finished up his work at about midnight. Sweet son woke up at 2:30 AM bouncing off the walls with excitement about Santa's arrival. He was sternly sent back to bed and told NOT to get up until the first number on his digital alarm clock was at least a five.

Starting at 5:30 AM we opened presents, answered some rather POINTED and PROBING questions about the exact nature of Santa's workshops and the jolly old guy's ability to make around the world delivering presents in only one night, and played with the flight simultor game Nonna gave him--a REAL hit!

Now, I'm going to watch the snow fall (that's right, it's snowing!), sip hot chocolate, and soak up the reality that we are nursing school-work-kindergarten free for the next two weeks. Whooooopppppeeee!!!

Today, we are NOT under construction:)

Many blessings to you and yours this holiday season.

Love the Rain

2007-12-23T20:46:00.000-08:00

I'm so happy to live here in this house in Portland.

I used to live here. I don't miss it.

Today I was driving to pick up sweet son after a sleepover at Nonna's house. Rain and mist literally oozed from the fog and clouds that enveloped everything. It was the quintessential Portland day. And it made me happy for two reasons:

1) I did not have to dig my car out of two feet of snow and ice a la my Milwaukee days.
2) I had one of those, "Thank God we have another year of rain forest rains before global warming makes us the new Phoenix, Arizona." Irrational, I know, but the rain reassured me that we have held off Armageddon for at least another year.

Not very Christmasy thoughts. I have lots of holiday miracles to share, but right now I'm in a happy, happy rain place. Check back later for Christmas cookies, the Christmas pageant, and my visit with the Spirit of Christmas Present.

We are...under construction.

Gabriel to Stay in Oregon

2007-12-12T20:46:00.000-08:00

The state of Oregon has ruled that Gabriel will be adopted by his foster parents of two years: the Brandt family. After a full day of mediation, his paternal grandmother, Ms. Martinez, withdrew her petition to adopt the little boy with the condition that the Brandt family maintain contact with Gabriel's relatives in Mexico and teach him Spanish.

We are...under construction.

Spittin' Mad

2007-12-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

I'm spittin' mad. It is finals week for wh; he left the house feeling chipper and on-top-of the world as only a straight A, overachiever can when faced with a full week of exams. Last week he handed in his MANY final essays, leaving a weekend of studying to prepare for finals. The end was in sight.

You'll notice I used past tense in that last sentence.

He met with one of his professors today for his final evaluation. He had handed in a rather lengthy essay to her on Friday. Today she handed it back to him because, while the content was stellar, his format sucked. He tried to argue that he followed her formatting requirements, as outlined on the rubric, to a tee because he knew her to be a stickler for format. She informed him that his interpretation of the format was too literal and that he would have to rewrite and resubmit his TWENTY-TWO PAGE essay. Her previous critiques of his essays have been that he doesn't follow the format closely enough. Which is why, this time, he LITERALLY followed the rubric. His mistake.

Wh is not accustomed to this.

So, he is now facing a week of studying for exhausting exams AND rewriting a grueling essay that he had felt he had closure on last week. No end in sight.

I'm spittin' mad. I want him to take it up with the Dean. Just because "mecurial formatting" professor is a good nurse doesn't mean she's a good teacher (she's adjunct...I'm just saying...).

I dream of telling her how brilliant my wh is. How he toils for hours on these flippin' never-ending essays. How he loves nursing. How all of his other professors think he is brilliant and wonderful as well--it's not just me. Jeez, you'd think I was some helicopter mom trying to usher my gifted son through the machine of public ed. Nope, he's a grown up. He can make his own decisions.

He just wants to get it done. This is his first "roadblock" at school in six months. He's lucky he's gone this long without something major happening. Some of his friends have had to drop out or retake classes. In the grand scheme of things it isn't huge--he'll rewrite it, resubmit it, and earn his A.

I keep thinking: we're paying $50,000 for this?

December 2008 can't come soon enough.

We are...under construction.

It's always this easy...right?

2007-12-09T06:59:00.000-08:00

So my super good friends have a one year-old and a five year-old. Our little guys have LITERALLY grown up together. They have one of those rare and special relationships--they're friends and family mixed into one. Well, my friends were scheduled to go to the coast this weekend for a schwanky work party at a schwanky resort, and their very active and involved grandma was going to babysit. Sadly, grandma came down with a nasty bug. I literally strong armed my way into babysitting in her place because I have been DYING to play mommy to their little sweet pumpkin of a baby girl. Plus, they have cable and super comfy bed. And good coffee.

I gave wh a well-deserved night off. We are dog-sitting for a black lab puppy this weekend too, so someone needed to stay home with him (potty training and all). So, wh studied for finals and went to a movie and let the puppy out every few hours.

For the past 12 hours I've been playing mommy to this brood of three. Wh was hoping it would cure me of my periodic urges to have more kids. Sadly for him--not so much. I'm not exaggerating--the kids have been angels. The two little boys have been jumping over each other to help me with the baby. They've been doing art projects, watching movies, and playing games. The baby. Ohhh, this baby. So good. Just coos and talks to me. She ate in her high chair for over an hour. When she was done I was finishing the dishes, so she had to wait for five or ten minutes for me to finish. She just cooed "Aaaahhh don. Aaaaah don." Then she would crack herself up.

All three kids went down without a peep. I watched movies and SNL.

I talked to wh before bed and he wanted to know if this had cured me of wanting to have more kids. Not so much. Ss was so happy to have an impromptu sleepover with one of his best buds--he was way better behaved here than he is at home. It was like he was afraid if he sassed I would take him home. Of course, we did watch two movies in the six hours we were awake at their house. Tv--the opiate of the masses.

Cured of wanting more kids? Not so much. Parenting a big brood is always this easy, right? Don't answer that! Of course it's not--that's why this is called babysitting...not parenting.

Still, this didn't help my "big family recovery".

We are...under construction.

Why I Would Be a Bad Foster Mother

2007-12-06T19:09:00.000-08:00

There is a little boy in Oregon named Gabriel. He has been living with the same foster family since he was four months-old. His birth parents have lost custody of him, and two year-old Gabriel is living with the only family he has ever known--The Brandt family.

However, the Brandt's are not his permaent legal parents. They are his foster parents. To say they have become attached to little Gabriel is somewhat of an understatement. They want nothing more than to adopt the little guy they have loved since he was an infant. I totally "get" their attachment.

Oregon has other plans. The Department of Human Services here in our great state has contacted Gabriel's grandmother, Ms. Martinez, at her home--in Mexico. Ms. Martinez would like nothing more than to parent her small grandchild, which means he would leave the Brandt's and move to Mexico to be with his grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins. The policy in our state, as it is in most, is for preference to be given to folks who are of "blood relation" to the child. I think it is good and righteous for children to be raised by relatives who will love and care and provide for their young extended family members. I totally "get" the state's policy.

Which is why I couldn't be a foster parent. What if I too fell in love with a little bit of a thing that the court placed in my arms and said, "Please take care of this baby as if it was your own. Only it's not your own. So, don't get attached." What then?

As I see it, Ms. Martinez has every right to raise her grandchild.

Try telling that to Ms. Brandt's heart.

Ms. Martinez was scheduled to fly to Oregon this week for a mediation with the state and the Brandt family. Gabriel's future is in the hands of bureaucrats. A decision should come any day now. No matter what they decide, someone loses. Except, we hope, Gabriel; he will be loved and provided for no matter who parents him.

We are...under construction.

6 G-Rated Things About My Friend, Stac

2007-12-04T05:46:00.000-08:00

I had to edit Stac's list to make it G-rated. This IS a family show. What if one of my students somehow stumbled upon under construction. So, here is the edited version. I'm sorry that it is edited. The original was sick and hilarious.

Seven Random Things about Stacy:

1. Once upon a time, when I possessed 9 years of age, I almost drowned. But this wasn’t a normal drowning. Oh no. It wasn’t water that would potentially snake through my lungs…it was…horse shit and urine. Yes, you read that correctly. Horse shit and urine.

These are the days in the life of a girl growing up on a farm.

One of my chores was to clean the barn – shoveling equine poop. Ah, the joys of country living. So one day, when I had completed my task, I stood on the edge of the boarded floor; three feet below me was the bog of eternal stench, a paddock oozing with wet manure and ungodly urine…basically, a soupy mess of disgust.
Anyway, my brother walked in, and, as with all siblings, we began to argue. His ire at sisters grew intense, and the next thing I knew, I was pushed back into that marsh of madness. I landed on my back, as if I were making snow angels. I began to sink slowly…down, down, down. The searing stench of urine stung my eyes as the sloppy dung edged higher and higher; death seemed imminent. The thought of sucking in poop for my demise prompted me to take action, so I screamed at my brother to help me. He just laughed. It forced me to pull the ‘mom card’.

“If you don’t help me NOW, I’m gonna tell Mom!” I yelled.

The thought of Mom’s wrath coaxed my brother to give me a hand – not out of brotherly love, but simply to save his own ass. Such a sweet guy.

When I walked up to the house, my back caked with crap, I feared the anger of my mother. As I faced her, complete with poo dripping from my limbs, I expected a rage unlike any other.

Instead, I heard laughter. Yes, laughter.

Not only did she laugh at my plight, she full out peed her pants from the hilarity of it all.

I had thought I was going to be in big doo doo (no pun intended) with Mom, but no, she just lost control of her bladder. Nice to know that my mother finds amusement in her daughter’s trauma…

2. I have an avid adoration for writing utensils. They have to write well – no smearing (the curse of a left-hander), dark lead/ink, and it has to fit nicely in my hand.

3. Last night, my mom asked me, out of the blue, what I thought about Stormtroopers (the evil white robot guys from Star Wars). I said they were the stupid dudes who always got killed. Why, I asked. She replied that in her therapy session, she had to put her ‘world’ together in a sandbox by using random figurines to represent the people in her life. I was a freakin’ Stormtrooper? WTF? She said she chose that because they represented the ‘dark side’, and I have a dark side, too. Whatever. My brother got to be Obi Wan Kanobi. Nice. Oh, and I was put in the corner, too. Thanks, Mom.

4. I can’t swallow pills. I either have to crush them into a powder, or chew them up. Yes, I am a big fan of the Flintstones vitamins. Tasty!

5. When I was 9, my front tooth was knocked out by a baseball bat. They put it back in, but after 10 years, it had to be replaced with an implant. The dentist drilled a metal screw thing up into the bone of my upper mouth that the actual tooth implant would attach to. Before I could get the implant, however, I had to wait a few months for my gums to heal. In the mean time, I had a ‘flipper’ – basically, a retainer with a fake tooth to fill in the gap of my toothless smile. I could easily pop it out, leaving a very visible black hole.

At the time, I was a cashier at Fred Meyer. To entertain myself, I would flip out the retainer and smile big at little kids while their parents weren’t looking. It totally freaked them out. Fun stuff.

6. I have to sleep with a body pillow between my legs.

Village and "Big Girl Undies"

2007-12-02T15:15:00.000-08:00

Having two full-time working-outside-the-home parents means that it takes a village to help raise your kid sometimes. And so it is for us. Later this month ss will be in a school musical performance. Sadly, said musical performance is at 2 PM on a weekday, which means wh and I can't attend because of nursing school and teaching responsibilities (I'm already taking my one personal day to attend his kindergarten field trip in January).

I haven't asked my mom to attend the musical performance yet because she has been covering the bazillion (okay, I exaggerate) teacher-prep/conference days--one of which is tomorrow--for us. Fortunately for us she is a writer and works from home, so she's often available for child care when his school is out and mine isn't. Still, she actually has to write to pull in a paycheck. As you can imagine, writing is kind of difficult to do when you are trying to entertain/ensure the safety of a very active six year-old. November and December are chuck full of days when we need her for childcare, so I don't want to burden her anymore than I already have.

So, I asked our elderly neighbors to go in our place. I'm happy to report that they seemed thrilled to attend this kindergarten musical extravaganza. Their three now grown sons went to our son's school, as did their grand niece, who now lives with them. They love our little neighborhood school, and they're going to go in our place. So instead of plain old mom and dad, sweet son will have three extra special guests: our elderly neighbors and their grand niece (who is also our babysitter extraordinaire/my "little sister"--see picture above). Sometimes I feel all pissy because I miss too much of my son's schooling experience while working to keep a roof over our head and food on the table.

Then, sometimes, I think about how lucky I am to have great friends who watch him before and after school. How he's learning great lessons about sharing with the kids whose house he stays at while we're at work/nursing school. And how he knows that the folks in his neighborhood care about him enough to take time out of their day to cheer him on in his musical performance.

Having it all means, as RSG would say, "putting on my big girl undies" and celebrating the fact that I have a village to help support us during this under construction year.

We are...under construction.

7 Weird and Random Things

2007-11-26T23:57:00.000-08:00

Liz tagged me. Okay, here it goes.

1) I shaved my head almost-bald in college--just 'cuz. Btw, that was when I knew I was going to marry my wh. He had I had been dating about two and a half years at that point. We met in college. He had graduated and moved away, but he returned to take me to our college homecoming dance. I opened the door after not seeing him for three months. There I was in all bald headed glory. His response? "You look great!" I knew. Right then.

2) I was voted most improved player on the only two "competitive" teams I ever played for: 2nd grade soccer team and 8th and 9th grade pom-pom squad. I've always been way more about spirit than actual athletic talent.

3) I have an almost pathological fear of rodents. Especially rats. I'm fine with snakes, spiders, beetles. Not rodents. When I was about five I was at a party at a family friend's house. A giant rat (in my memory it's like 2 feet long), drunk on rat poison, wandered out and kind of lingered at the bottom of the outdoor porch stairs. The kids were all outside by the stairs, so we had a perfect view of the rat. A few dads got a shovel and a hatchet. Stop reading now if you don't want to be grossed out. The parents told us to look away. Of course, I didn't. One dad kind of held the drunk rat in place with the shovel while the other dad cut off its head. Traumatic. My skin is crawling as I write this. I think that started the whole fear thing.

4) Story Corps makes me cry every time.

5) Wh and I drove across the country to move to Portland 10.5 years ago. We brought only our camping gear, clothes, and Milo. We used our camping gear utensils for the longest time. When we had folks over for dinner we'd have to borrow silverware from the neighbors.

6) One of my favorite jobs was bartending at a DIVE bar in this itty, bitty town in Iowa where I went to college. I loved every minute of it--except for pledge week. We had to literally hose down the floors after pledge week. What I loved about the bar were the regulars. I learned more from some of the old timer regulars than I did from some of my professors.

7) I have quit drinking Diet Coke about 10 times. Currently, I'm off the wagon.

Stac, I'm tagging you. Let's hear 7 random/weird things about you. This should be interesting...

Sing it, Leonard

2007-11-25T20:03:00.000-08:00

Nice to see a man standing tall against sexism.

I've said it before(see #3)--You, Mr. Pitts, are the man.

32 shopping days left.

2007-11-24T17:08:00.001-08:00

Here is the 75' "Holiday Tree" in downtown Portland. We were on hand for the annual lighting a few nights ago.

I'm not a big Christian with a capital C. Like most good Midwestern stock, I like to keep my beliefs private--just like my underwear (save a not-so-brief college exhibitionist stage). Suffice it to say, that sweet son and I do attend church on a semi-regular basis.

I'm all for political correctness. I like to think of being pc as just being considerate of other people's feelings. If I were mayor I don't know if I would be down with putting up a big ol' douglas fir in the Portland's proverbial "living room". It doesn't seem welcoming to folks who are not Christian. But, if I was going to turn a blind eye to the separation of church and state (assuming Pioneer Courthouse Square is a space owned and operated by the city--which I'm not sure it is--so this whole soapboxing might be a moot point anyway), I sure as hell wouldn't call the evergreen behemoth a Holiday Tree. If it walks like a duck, talks likes a duck, it must be a Christmas Tree. I'm not Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist. If I was, I think I'd be pissed that Portland was pretending that a giant lighted tree encompassed my religion. Imagine if Portland decided to opt out of the "Holiday Tree" and put up a giant candelabra--only, they called it a "Holiday Menorah".

If you're going to put up a tree with lights be person enough to call it what it is--a Christmas Tree.

BTW, during the tree lighting ceremony, multiple speakers encouraged us to stop in at the mall a few blocks away to get a head start on the "season". The season of what...consumerism?

Not to be too bah-humbugey--the "unnamed holiday tree lighting ceremony" was beautiful. I liked singing the holiday carols. Especially "Oh Christmas Tree".

We are...under construction.

Stuff I give thanks for...

2007-11-20T20:12:00.000-08:00

Stuff I gave thanks for this week:

1) Sweet son's kindergarten teacher. We had a parent-teacher conference with her this week. It was so nice to be on the other side of the table, although I felt so sorry for her. She was at the tail end of two twelve hour parent-teacher conference days. I know that level of exhaustion well. By the end of the countless intense one-on-one discussions about the topic nearest and dearest to a parent's heart: his or her child, I often feel intellectually and emotionally empty. Literally. My son's teacher, bless her heart, was still going strong when we saw her at 7 PM (she'd been at school since 8 AM). We had a great meeting. We told her, again, about our son's increased interest in reading and writing, which can only be described as an explosion, since he started kindergarten only three short months ago. It kind of makes wh and I wonder what we WEREN'T doing prior to kindergarten. We read to him, practiced the alphabet, etc..., but he could have cared less about literacy. Now, our house is literally covered in words, lists, signs, and pictures. And he spends 2-3 hours emulating his kindergarten teacher. We can hear him "teaching" his imaginary kids at all hours of the day. See attached.

My wh. Yes, he's constantly busy and stressed. Somehow, though, he manages to be a loving hubby and father. It is great to see him hit his professional groove. He loves, loves nursing. You go, honey.

New car door handles.

Friends. Friends who entertain us and make us forget the insanity of this crazy under construction year. Friends who watch and protect our sweet son when we're at work and school.

Faraway family. Grandpas, grandmas, aunties, and uncles who send us love across the miles (and money for sweet son's ukeulele lessons since u.c. year made us financially challenged--thanks Dad and Grandma M.:).

Nonna. For hosting Thanksgiving. For everything, really.

Sweet son. Love him to pieces. Love almost-six. This was the first Thanksgiving in 10 years wh and I hadn't cooked together (he was studying:). Fortunately, sweet son is old enough to actually help. He peeled all the sweet potatoes and did the dishes. Made Thanksgiving sweet and hilarious.

The person who made it all possible. I am beyond, beyond, beyond grateful to be sweet son's mom. Sending my props out to the person who made it possible. She knows who she is and how much we love her. May 2009 (otherwise known as A.N.S.--after nursing school) bring us together again. Three years is too long.

Netflix. Need I say more?

What are you thankful for this year?

We are...under construction.

I can. I should. I must.

2007-11-17T08:21:00.000-08:00

This is Uche. She is a small business owner who sells food, drinks, and Santana (a local food made from cassava) in Lagos State, Nigeria. She is married with four children. She has had her shop since 2004, and I just put $25 dollars into her microfinancing loan so she can expand her business.

"Microfinance: As the financial services of microfinance usually involve small amounts of money – small loans, small savings etc. – the term "microfinance" helps to differentiate these services from those which formal banks provide.

Why are they small? Someone who doesn't have a lot of money isn't likely to want to take out a $5,000 loan, or be able to open a savings account with an opening balance of $1,000. Hence – "micro"." KIVA

I had been hearing a lot about microfinance ever since Muhammad Yunus, of Bangladesh, won the Nobel Peace Prize for his work in microfinance in 2006; however, I didn't know how I, personally, could get involved in giving people a hand up.

Then, I read about KIVA. KIVA is a very legit organization that provides everyday folks, like you and me, who have some extra cash to spend--not a lot, but some--the opportunity to donate to a entrepeneur in a developing country who is trying to expand their business. Oprah, President Clinton, and the Today Show have all given KIVA props in the past month.

Which is how I found out about Uche.

Hey blogging friends, in the spirit of the season, what do you say that we each make a $25 dollar donation to Uche's microfinance loan? If you're down with helping giving Uche a hand up, you can find her here:
Uche

Only 20% of of her loan has been raised so far. Let's see if we can't get it up to 100%. Hey, even wh and I--in our nursing school loans/single earner teacher salary state--can afford $25! Post a comment when you donate to Uche, or any KIVA client.

Here's hoping Uche can build up her business to provide for all of her children's dreams.

Having it all means we can donate $25 dollars to someone trying to build up their business--and in turn, their family.

We are...under constrution.

Shhhh...it's a secret

2007-11-14T18:25:00.001-08:00

Look what we bought sweet son for Christmas.

Happiness is a remote control helicopter...when you're a five year-old boy (or 34 year-old dad).

Having it all means watching sweet son go berserk when he opens the package on December 25th.

Hopefully, his excitement will distract him from the fact that he will be getting less than half the normal amount of presents this year. Thanks nursing school.

We are...under construction.

A good idea: barring teachers from packing heat on the job

2007-11-12T19:36:00.000-08:00

Sometimes things happen that restore my faith in common sense. Like an Oregon judge's recent ruling against English teacher Shirley Katz. The court found that Ms. Katz, who wanted to carry a handgun while working in a school to protect herself from her ex-husband, will not be able to pack heat on the job. I feel a little safer already. Arming teachers: a very bad idea.

PS--I wonder who funded Ms. Katz's legal suit? I wouldn't be shocked to hear if it was a gun rights organization, would you?

We are...under construction.

2007 or 1907?

2007-11-11T20:12:00.000-08:00

This post has been floating around in my head, and I haven't been quite sure how to write it.

I know someone, a white man, who dressed up as a black entertainer for Halloween. Yes, he painted his skin brown. From head to toe.

There are two ways this incident could be interpreted:
1) He is completely ignorant of the painful, racist history associated with white people dressing up as black people.
2) He is aware of the painful, racist history associated with white people dressing up as black people, and he did it anyway.

When I saw him I was literally tongue tied. Which never happens to me. It was like when someone gets embarrassingly drunk at a party and makes a huge scene. You feel totally uncomfortable for them, and yet kind of pissed that they have to ruin a good time. That was kind of how it felt. Only with some rage mixed in too.

Obviously, I'm hoping he was just well-intentioned and uninformed. It is hard to believe though, in the twenty-first century, that he has never heard of the pain assoicated with his "costume". A group of us brought the issue to his attention, and I'm hoping he will not do this again. I'm not holding my breath.

Then there was the incident of the nooses hanging from trees in the commons at Reed College (and countless fraternity houses across the country).

Too often the refrain of, "We didn't mean to offend anyone. It's just for fun," is the response people give when the racist Halloween gags come under fire.

Dude, if people say the behavior is hurtful and offensive, it is hurtful and offensive. So stop doing it.

Next year I hope for a noose free/white people painting their skin brown free Halloween.

Do you ever wake up and think, "Am I living in 2007 or 1907?"

We are...under construction.

"Saturday," she sighed contentedly.

2007-11-10T18:18:00.000-08:00

Ah, YUM! I made a modified version of Lelo's risotto and sweet potato dish. Mylorditwassodelectilicious. We made the recipe the same as hers, but in true vegan style, we left out the whipping cream and cheese. Also, we mixed in some baked tofu right before serving--for vegan protein. We found that the risotto made it plenty creamy enough for our palettes, but we've been operating sans dairy products for a good fifteen years. Our palettes have mutated. Anywho, so good. As an added bonus, there was, as Lelo told us, plenty leftover. Which is great for our under construction lives right now. Not getting home until 5:30 or 6 and all makes whipping up a home cooked meal from scratch a pain in the arse. Now we'll have a nutritous, yummy meal come post-work haze Tuesday night.

We also checked out the Trillium Artisans sale. I love Trillium Artisans. They are a group of artists who craft their art out of reclaimed material. Gorgeous and good for the earth. I finally bought one of Megan's spoon mirrors. It only took me twenty minutes to pick out my favorite color. Isn't it pretty?

I also really liked Tim Combs' new wood carvings.

And Amy Rosko's St. John's Bridge pillow.

Trillium Artisans--I will be back. As soon as the next financial aid check comes in:).

Right now, I'm off to play Tribond Jr. with the fam.
We are...under construction.

I do not heart Toyota

2007-11-09T08:22:00.000-08:00

I hate cars and commuting in general. For the past nine years I have commuted by train and bus 3 hours a day. I work nine months a year, so that comes out to 540 hours spent on the road...away from my family. Or 22 days going back and forth between work and home. This year, I hit a wall, metaphorically speaking, of course. Many of you may wonder, "Why don't you just quit you're complaining and move closer to your job or get a new job?" Well said. Someday, I will address the question. I have many excuses...I mean reasons why that hasn't happened yet. Believe me, within the next few years, I will not be commuting anymore. We are, as we say, under construction.

The past few months have been better because my friend S has been picking me up at a transit station and taking me to work. Which is great because we get to catch up--which is always particularly entertaining because she has a much more exciting life than I do--WRITE A BLOG ALREADY S!--and I get to school in one hour instead of 1.5 hours.

Also, two days a week, wh has a clinical rotation at a site near my school in the suburbs. We get to commute together. It is our only alone time all week, so I am especially grateful for it.

Then yesterday, this happened:

Wh went to open the driver's side door and the whole flippin' door handle came off.

Which shouldn't surprise us because the driver's side backseat door handle came off when sweet son opened the door last year. We attempted to get it replaced a year ago, but the Toyota dealership was going to charge us over $300 to replace it. We said no, on principle. It wasn't a huge deal because one tiny piece of the door handle is still on that door, so if you scrunch up your fingers you can still open it.

The driver's side...that is a different story. You can't open the door at all from the outside. Can you say--SAFETY HAZARD? You have to crawl through the passenger side to get in. Kind of hard to look professional when you're crawling over passenger seat to get behind the wheel. I'm calling around to get it fixed today. And yes, the hubcap has fallen off. In fact, all three hubcaps fell off. Randomly while we're driving down the highway. And the driver's side visor fell off. And one time, while we were driving down the road, the entire inside plastic frame that goes around the windshield fell off. We had to duck tape it up until we could get it into the dealer. BTW, does this sound like a 12 year-old beater? It's not. It is a 2003 Toyota Matrix that we bought new. It currently has less than 60,000 miles. It is just a plastic piece of crap. When I called Toyota today to have them attempt to fix the issue their extremely surly customer service rep at Broadway Toyota could not have been more rude. After twenty years of owning a Toyota, I say--never again.

So, yeah. I hate commuting, and I hate cars. I dream of a day when I can walk or ride my bike a few miles or less to work. Maybe stop at New Seasons on the way home to pick up some fresh produce for dinner. Just because I have a few minutes to kill.

On a happier note, my mom watched sweet son on Wednesday because we had a childcare snaphoo. She felt sorry for us because of our sorry Thanksgiving decorations. She and sweet son made this cool leaf garland for the mantle. Thanks Mom. And thanks for stocking our freezer with yummy food and buying sweet son socks that fit. Yes, I've been too busy to buy my poor kid socks that fit right. Remember the tipping point. Some things have to give. Like socks.

Also, Trillium Artisans is having a sale this weekend. I covet the bud vases and spoon mirrors. I'll definitely be checking it out. Go Megan.

And finally, I'm going to try Lelo's recipe for risotto and sweet potatoes. Big vegan style, of course. Mmmmm.

We are...under construction.

Teaching:

2007-11-06T18:08:00.000-08:00

If I were ever going to write a teaching blog, I'd want it to be just like this.

Kountry Kraft

2007-11-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

My friend Megan and I have a term for country arts and crafts. You know the hand-stenciled-gingham-duck/cow/pig decor? We call it "kountry kraft" or "k.k." While I can appreciate a good "Home Sweet Home" picture (I actually have one my aunt cross-stitched), I'm not generally a fan of the Kountry Kraft arts.

Which brings me to Thanksgiving decorations. Sweet son helped our neighbor take down her elaborate and super cool Halloween decorations (she and her partner hosted an equally elaborate and super cool Halloween party...but that's a whole nother story:). Anyway, he came home ancy to put our Halloween decorations away(sniff, sniff--I love Halloween). Then, he asked to put up Thanksgiving decorations. Digging through my three holiday decoration boxes, I couldn't come up with a single flippin cornucopia or turkey wall hanging. Sweet son asked a pointed question: "How can we get excited for Thanksgiving without our decorations to help us stay excited?"

So, we soon found ourselves digging through the Thanksgiving decorations at a thrift store. It was then that I realized why we have oodles of Valentines Day, Easter, Halloween, and Christmas baubles, and yet have NOTHING for Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving decorations are ugly.

Wonderhubby thinks that the reason Thanksgiving decorations aren't pretty is because Thanksgiving itself isn't a pretty part of our country's history to celebrate. Native Americans welcomed the Pilgrims and shared their harvest so that the invaders would not starve. Then, the invaders slaughtered the Native Americans and claimed Native land as their own. Not pretty.

To me, Thanksgiving will always be a layover between the two beautiful holidays with equally awesome decorations: Halloween and Christmas. But, in the interest of "getting excited for Thanksgiving" I bought a few of the least kountry kraft decorations I could find. See below. At least there are only a few more weeks until I can take them down:)

We are...under construction.

We're back...

2007-11-01T12:19:00.000-07:00

A big shout out to Megan for making this great vampire bat costume. Halloween was a hit!

We were doing pretty well at the whole dual working-outside-the-home-working-parent gig. Until about mid-October. We hit a wall. A seriously big wall. You won't be surprised to know that the wall corresponded with my sabattical from J-UC.

I won't bother you with the details, but just know that there is a tipping point when trying balance innumerable family activities, house projects, volunteer projects, work responsibilities, nursing school responsibilities, and kindergarten activities--all while attempting to look and feel fabulous...inside and out. We found the tipping point.

The good news is that we've been attempting to pare down everything--work, school, house stuff (you know what, the world does not come to an end if the beds don't get made), etc... The BEST new addition to our family schedule is that Wonderhubby, after spending a bunch of Friday and Saturday nights studying until 1 AM, has implemented a "study schedule" on the weekends. This will ensure that he can get his studying time in, and that he can also get a good night's sleep.

On a more cheerful note, we discovered last weekend that sweet son can make his own lunches. This might seem laughable to many of you out there--"Of course he can make his own turkey sandwich; he's almost 6 for crying out loud!" Somehow though, he is always six months or so younger in our minds than he is in real life. I remember when he was four and I mentioned in passing that he was going to have to take a bath later. A few minutes later I heard the water running, went to investigate, and discovered our little guy in the middle of the bathtub with suds dripping from his hair. I was flabergasted. It seemed I had been changing his diaper and tucking him into his crib just a few days before. How could I have a child who could draw his own bath and wash his own hair?

And so it was with the lunch-making. He said he was hungry. We suggested he go get himself an apple. We heard an awful lot of cupboards banging and stools dragging for an apple, so...we went to investigate. There was our little...I mean BIG guy munching carefully on a the most beautiful turkey and cheese sandwich you've ever seen. Needless to say, he's been making his own lunches ever since, so that saves me some time and effort every day. Which is a little bitter sweet. One more thing he can do without us. He does want the notes still...which is nice.

I'll leave you with this picture. He (sweet son...not wonderhubby:) has been working so hard on his literacy skills. He has labeled most nouns in our house with cards adorned with the picture of the object and the word. My favorite is the label above. The picture he drew to illustrate the card just cracks me up. I'm saving that card forever.

We are...under construction.

Tip

2007-10-17T05:13:00.000-07:00

When you are at a party with your spouse, perhaps you shouldn't joke about your respective need for structure and routine. If you do, DEFINITELY don't refer to yourselves as having Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Because someone in the group might actually pipe up that they have a medical OCD diagnosis and are taking medication for it.

Ooopsss.

We are...under construction.

A Very Bad Idea

2007-10-12T08:26:00.000-07:00

Shirley Katz, a high school English teacher in Medford, Oregon, will begin carrying a handgun ON HER PERSON in school this month. I know that the Second Amendment guarantees the right to bear arms. But, reminder: our forefathers wrote the Bill of Rights at a time when a populace could conceivably take on (and did:) a government with totalitarian fantasies. Not so much anymore. Like the US citizenry could defend itself against the government's military nuclear aresenal. Please.

Now, I also understand that many people feel arming themselves provides them with a higher level of security. And, I know that the Second Amendment guarantees their right to bear arms.

Gun opponents and proponents can find common ground. I would hope we could agree that there must be SOME limits on a citizen's right to carry guns. When children are involved, we must tread with EXTREME caution.

Click here to read more about Shirley and her crusade.

Teachers carrying guns. Some thoughts:
1) What happens if the teacher is working with a student, and the student grabs the gun out of her/his pocket/holster?
2) What if a teacher "loses it" and has access to a gun?
3) What message do armed school officials send to our students, who are already immersed in a violent culture?

If the day comes when educators start tucking handguns in their blazer pockets as routinely as they put on their id badges, I will turn in my resignation to my principal and homeschool my sweet son. By the way, I think home schooling is a bad idea for our family. Arming teachers is a worse idea.

What do you think about this issue?

We are...under construction.

Reel Grrls

2007-10-11T13:52:00.000-07:00

I had been thinking of dyeing my hair to hide the ever growing number of grays sprouting up daily. Then I watched this video. The next time you see my loud and proud gray hair, don't think of it as me "letting myself go".

Think of it as me giving the patriarchy the finger.

Love Reel Grrls.

We are...under construction.

Grateful

2007-10-07T10:32:00.000-07:00

I woke up pissy about my long commute--the travel to and from work seems like a SUPREME waste of time, especially since I've been making the trip for nine years. But, being pissy is also a SUPREME waste of time in my book. So, I've decided to think about the many ways in which I am blessed. Here is the list:

Nonna, aka my mom, is a blessing to our family. Sure, we have the usual mother-daughter tension (after two hours I become 16 in her presence), but ultimately she provides light and laugther and love for our son--not to mention support for us. She moved to the Northwest shortly after our sweet son came home as an infant--to be close to her only grandchild (which he still is!!). I did not grow up with grandparents in my area, so it is a special honor to witness Nonna and her grandson's ultra close and special relationship. In the picture, she and he are playing Memory at our house--while wh and I went for a walk by ourselves:) Sleep overs, road trips, and everyday adventures with Nonna are a regular part of his routine. She has been on vacation for the past week and a half, and every night he has asked us when she is coming back. I miss her too...and the babysitting:) We are so lucky to have her around.

Autumn is here. Which means Halloween decorations are here. Bouaaahhhhahhh! My favorite time of year!

The young guy whose profile you see in the picture is not my wonder hubby. It is actually a picture of our minister's hubby. His name is Charles Lewis, and he is running for City Commissioner in our great city. When wonder hubby and I first got a mass mailing from him we agreed that he sounded too good to be true: two years in the Peace Corps digging wells in the Congo, graduating with honors with a Master's from the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, and opening the COOLEST non-profit music academy (where sweet son takes ukulele lessons)--Ethos. We read his bio and said, "Is this guy for real?" We took him up on his flier's offer to host a neighborhood meet and greet for him. Turns out, he's legit. He is totally pro-campaign finance reform, as such he is running under the voter-owned candidate system. If he collect $5 from 1,000 separate citizens, the city will give him $150,000. The idea being that limiting campaign contributions will level the playing field in politics so that the little guy and gal have a voice.

Wonder-hubby and I had never talked much to Charles, so it was a great opportunity to learn more about his vision for Portland. We were impressed with his passion for redistributing the urban renewal money so that it doesn't get continually siphoned off for downtown condo projects. He wants to ensure that more goes into grass-roots, community-supported projects. Two words come to mind when I think of Charles: smart and scrappy. Click here to learn more about "Five Buck Chuck", and make a contribution if you're ready for a fresh voice in what is increasingly a good-old boys network in our small town that is emerging as a West coast power player. I'm grateful to have the ability to enact change in my community by having candidates like Charles on the ballot.

So last night, it was cold and rainy. Perfect comfort food weather. I whipped up some delicata squash rings (lightly stir-fried), brown rice, cucumber salad, and...piiiieee (wink, wink Grandma F. and Auntie T.). Nothing says autumn to me like a freshly baked apple pie. I found these super juicy, tart Honeycrisp apples at Big City Produce (which, fyi, was recently purchased by the employees and is now called Cherry Blossom (I think is the name...can't find anything about it online)--fear not--same emphasis on locally grown, AFFORDABLE produce!) for 89 cents a pound. So, I made three pies. One for my neighbor who recently lost his wife, one for the young woman who bought the house across the street and moved in this weekend, and one for us. I made them last night and ours is almost gone (that's right, we had apple pie for breakfast)...so I might have to make another one tonight.

Here is the pie crust recipe, for those who have asked me in the past:

3 cups flour
1 cup veggie oil
1/2 cup o.j.
Stir together with fork.
Separate into two equally sized balls of dough.
Roll each ball of dough out between two pieces of wax paper

Easy, easy, yummy, yummy.

Additionally, it was girls' night out with Megan and G yesterday. Nothing like a mindless movie and lots of girl talk to relieve the stress of working and parenting. Mental note: make more time for girls' night out.

My handsome guys. Need I say more?

So, when I'm lamenting my commute tomorrow morning at 6:20 AM, I'm going to remember my grateful list.

Yep, I am blessed. Fo Sho (The Wire...another way I'm blessed. Love Omar).

We are...under construction

Go Megan

2007-10-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

I have no crafting skills. For those of you that have seen my sorry attempt at a scrapbook/baby book for my sweet son, my lame attempt at a mosaic in my last house, and the random cards I make for birthdays--you know what I'm talking about. Lucky for me, my house is adorned with beautiful hand made pieces by my close friend Megan, who is also a kick ass artist. In fact, she made the glass mosaic sign you see in the picture above.

She was recently interviewed by Sister Diane, who is the guru of all things crafty here in Portland, for the Church of Craft DIY newsletter (PS--See Sister Diane's input about Church of Craft in the comments section of this post to get clarification on what the Church of Craft is all about). Sister Diane and the Church of Craft are icons here in Portland--to be recognized by them means you have arrived.

So, click here to see her awesome interview. I especially like the answer about the craft vs. art question. I once had Women's Studies professor tell me in an art theory course: "If men make it, it's art. If women make it, it's craft."

Here's to Megan who is redefining art and craft and what it means to have it all. She has arrived.

Mom's Overture by Anita Renfroe

2007-10-01T05:46:00.001-07:00

Need a smile on Monday morning? Check this out:)

We are...under construction.

Memo: Lunch Notes

2007-09-28T06:02:00.000-07:00

Imagine, if you will, lovingly laying out your child's clothes every night because you won't be there to help him get dressed in the morning. You also put special care and attention into his lunches--making sure that he has one thing to look forward to at lunch. Maybe a Capri Sun or a cookie. Every single day you arrive home from work at 5:30 PM, give him a big hug, and ask him 5,000 questions about his day. How was circle time? Who did you play with at lunch? Did you have gym class? Was Penny the Puppeteer there?

Four weeks into the whole dual-working-full-time parents gig and you're feeling pretty good.

Then, the other night, as you're carefully cutting off the tops of the strawberries for his lunch, he says, very sweetly: "Mom, do you think you could write me a note and put it in my lunch box every day? Sara, Dylan, Aiden, and Carmen all get notes in the lunches from their moms. I never got one. Do you keep forgetting?"

What? When did the note-in-the-lunchbox memo get sent out? How could you not know about that? Here you are, overcomensating for not being there on the first day of school or the classroom volunteer training (wh went instead) or the PTA bar-b-que/back-to-school night (wh volunteered for that too because it was on the same night as YOUR school's back-to-school night). You're feeling pretty good about what you can provide: snappy outfits, yummy lunches, and lots of love after work.

Then the notes thing hits. And you feel like a neglectful, absentee parent. The parents on the PTA have not met you at the bazillion events they have had this year. They probably think that your hubby is a single father. You can almost hear them, "Poor guy. Nursing school AND he volunteers for everything. And he does it all by himself. Wow! What a guy."

So, you start writing notes, putting them in a plastic baggie so the condensation from his drink won't smear the words, and tucking them into this little blue lunch box.

And you think about the time, in the not so distant future, when you will be working 1/2 or 3/4 time so that you can pick him up after school and volunteer at every school activity. Then, when you miss a parenting memo--like the one about the notes in the lunchbox--you won't feel like the absentee parent.

We are...under construction.

Bubble Bath

2007-09-26T06:03:00.000-07:00

Go to Megan's site if you need a smile. Bubble bath in an outdoor pond, anyone? Ahhhhhh, kids. Too funny.

I know you won't be shocked to hear that racism is alive and well...

2007-09-22T07:50:00.000-07:00

Wonder hubby got some birthday checks last week and we had a coupon, so we decided to celebrate our first successful month of "schoolidge" (nursing school (wh), kindergarten (sweet son), and teaching (me)) by going out to eat. We have not had a dinner out in about three months, ever since we went down to one income (thanks nursing school). So, this was a pretty big deal.

We jumped on our bikes and pedaled to our favorite little vegetarian Mexican place--Laughing Planet. The sky was blue, the sun was just ducking behind the west hills, Laughing Planet's glass garage doors were open, and folks were relaxing at every available outdoor table. The perfect Portland evening.

Sweet son declared that he had to go potty. The bathroom at Laughing Planet is outside the restaurant. To access it, you must get a key to open the door to the hallway that will take you to a women's restroom and a men's restroom. A 60ish white woman opened the door to the hallway that leads to the restrooms--which have multiple stalls, this is important. A white hipster dude (tattoos, greasy hair, etc...) asked if he could go to the restroom too, instead of waiting for her to come back with the key. She agreed, and he disappeared into the hallway. A 25ish black man asked if he could take his son to the restroom. You could almost see her wondering if he was some kind of super predator. She stammered, "Uhhh, I think you need to wait for the key."

It was excruciatingly apparent that walking down the hallway with the black man was not something she wanted to do. He just kind of stood there, incredulously. Everyone eating dinner around the doorway was watching. How humiliating.

Sweet son and I were right behind them, and I said, "We have to go too." She kind of gave me a relieved smile and let all of us in the hallway.

There are some folks out there that are going to read this and say to themselves, "Well it might not have been race related. Maybe she just wanted to hurry up and go to the bathroom and was crabby. Or maybe she was having a bad day. Or maybe she didn't know if there were enough stalls in the men's room." Perhaps.

But I doubt it.

When we got back to our table, very intuitive sweet son asked us why the woman didn't want to let "that guy and his little boy" in the bathroom.

Sigh.

We had our first real conversation about racism.

Having it all means that someday parents won't have to explain bigotry to their five year-olds.

I don't know. Should I have said something to her? What do you do when you see racism living large?

We are...under construction.

Healthcare and the election...

2007-09-20T00:24:00.000-07:00

This a picture of a very sick sweet son taken almost two Christmases ago. We had flown from Portland to Wisconsin to visit grandparents. A day or two after we arrived, sweet son developed a nasty cough, medium fever, and he started throwing up. That's right--an ear infection. So, early Christmas Eve morning I hauled my very sick little guy down to the emergency clinic of a major hospital system that is not affiliated with my HMO out here in the West. Anywho, we left a few hours later with the requisite antibiotics that were sure to kill the nasty ear infections that had lodged in BOTH of his ears.

Of course the bill was in the triple digits. I forwarded it to my insurance company, and viola, a few weeks later I got a letter indicating that I owed -0- dollars to the hospital in Wisconsin; West coast HMO was covering everything. No fuss.

It is at moments like those when I am grateful that I work in one of the last industries to be hit really hard by the skyrocketing costs of health care. But I know public employees are next (is it a shock that lawmakers, who fund state employee benefits, receive those same benefits because lawmakers are state employees too? I've often wondered what would happen to teacher, firefighter, police, and state social workers' benefits if lawmakers paid for their own benefits...). Benefits packages have long been the major perk of public service. Not so much anymore. Last year, we started, here in our great state, PAYING a fee for the package that allows us to choose our own doctors, etc... The gold card program. Hubby and I are low maintenance, so we went with the less expensive option. This still costs us nothing, but I see the handwriting on the wall. In a year or so, we'll start paying for it.

All this to say, when the public employees start paying for health care, you KNOW the system is broken.

I have started to track the candidates' health care proposals. Here is the summary:

All candidates believe that there are billions of dollars that can be saved by cutting out the inefficiencies in the health care industry.

Republicans believe that the market must drive health care. Many Republican candidates favor tax incentives or health care savings accounts in an effort to help get more Americans health care coverage. Sounds kind of like the system would stay status quo--with a little teakage.

Democrats believe that the market driven health care system is currently broken beyond repair. Many believe that a mixture of public and private health care options (socialized and market driven) is the answer. One candidate's campaign promise includes universal, single payer, not-for-profit health care. The audacity of hope--Dennis K.

Here are some links to sites that compare and contrast the candidates' proposals:
NPR--Candidates and Health Care

Associated Press--Candidates and Health Care

PS--I wanted to post the Washington Post summaries too, but they pissed me off. For example they summarized Obama's plan by saying he plans to pay for health care by raising taxes. PERIOD. Well, a while ago, I looked at Obama's website and checked his "plan"--basically a few paragraphs about his to-be-announced plan. It claimed that he would raise taxes only for the rich (I think it was for people earning over $80,000). Today, when I checked, there was an actual health care plan with lots of details--shocker, since Clinton announced hers this week. And today I did not see a single item about him raising taxes...Hmmmmm, maybe he dropped that part of his plan because it was being misrepresented by some media sources (Washington Post). Fair and balanced? Please! So, I went with NPR and AP sites because they included Obama's tax hike FOR THE RICH.

Speaking of fair and balanced, my bent is decidedly left leaning, as you can tell. In an effort to be fair and balanced, I have invited my only really good right leaning friend to share his views on the candidates' health care agendas. He's good people. Look for that soon.

For me, having it all definitely means affordable healthcare for my family...and everyone else's too.

We are...under construction.

What is your 9/11?

2007-09-19T06:17:00.000-07:00

So a good buddy of mine posted the following thoughts on her private family blog. I thought they were so right on that I wanted to share them with my friends in blog land. So here they are, with her permission, of course:

Okay on to the serious stuff. Last year on 9/11 we were on a plane going home from our failed adoption. Now to give you a little back ground we had failed fertility for many years and a referral of ours died so basically failure of any kind when it comes to growing our family puts me in a not so nice place. I remember thinking the whole country is thinking about one thing and I am trying not to think about something else. I was wrong though because it was similar. Life is pretty mean sometimes but we got through our loss and so is the country. As you all know that since then we have been blessed with a daughter and life goes on.

Now it is 9/11 again. I know that many people are devastated by this day. I am not. It is just another day. People live, people die. Some have all that they want in life and others have nothing. Life isn't fair. Some people get pregnant without even trying and others get pregnant after treatment and others get to love adopted children. You just have to be happy for the little things and see the big picture. We all as a country need to see that we have potential for great things and not live in fear of what might happen again. I could have let my fear and devastation stop me from trying to move on when our referrals didn't work out but I stuck to it and have the family of my dreams. Everyone has a sort of 9/11.

One of the reasons I love my good buddy so much is because she has a kick ass attitude about life. 9/11's happen. Tsunami's happen. Famine happens. No one is immune. It sucks--but facing the suckiness takes a strength of will that is sometimes hard to muster. Which is why it is nice to have a good buddy like mine around. She reminds me not to get bogged down with fear. I remember when she was coming back from the failed adoption last year in September, and I thought, "If it were me, I think I would just stick with my one kid and call it quits." I think I'd be too scared to try again.

She inspires me to try to face my 9/11's with an open heart too.

We are...under construction.

Dirty Laundry

2007-09-18T05:45:00.000-07:00

Okay, so when I started my little on-line distraction, otherwise known as JUC, I made a mental pact with myself about things I promised never to write about. I've already broken about ten of my promises. When I write, I picture my friends, family members, and sweet new blogging friends gathered around the proverbial cyber kitchen table. That's what the blog is to me--a time and place to give my two cents.

I rarely picture hairy, maladjusted weirdos gawking obsessively at my picture. Or worse...my son's picture. I don't think about them. But I know there are a few out there in cyberland (hopefully, they're not looking at my blog). So anyway, while I try to be as honest as a teacher employed by our great state can be (I also imagine that my students and their parents might one day stumble upon JUC...gotta keep it clean), there are some topics I have to say to myself, "Don't even go there." Maladjusted hairy weirdo might be reading.

So, here is my public promise of things I will never blog about:

1) My son's private thoughts, nature, and questions.
2) My hubby's private thoughts, nature and questions. Okay, here I think I have a little more leeway because I can always ask wonder hubby if it is okay to post something.
3) The school my son attends. Even though I love it so and want nothing more to proclaim my love from the rooftops. I'm only half joking.
4) The bedroom. Enough said.
5) My extended family and friend's thoughts, natures, and questions. Again, here I have a little wiggle room as I can always ask my friends if I can post something about them. See tomorrow's blog...
6) Anything specific about my workplace.
7) I think that is all. Can you think of other things that should be off limits on a family blog?

We are...under construction.

Businesses I Love

2007-09-15T17:49:00.000-07:00

Enough politics (for now...). Here is a business I love. A lot.

It is called "Nanna's Scoops". It opened July 7th of this year. Yes, it is an ice cream shop in an unlikely spot--Nanna's garage, which, btw, faces an alley on MLK Blvd here in our great city (okay, Portland:). We biked over today and got our sweet son a yummy rainbow sherbert ice cream cone at the best price in town--$1.00.

I love this place for it's total and complete lack of pretension. In our ever-gentrifying neck of the woods, lack of pretension is sometimes hard to come by. Plus, we have been bemoaning our neighborhood's dirth of ice cream eateries for the past decade. To say we are thrilled to have a place to buy our sweet son's favorite dessert within walking distance is a bit of an understatement. Another bonus--it isn't a cookie cutter chain store trying to bilk the fivers from your wallet. I think I've mentioned that fivers are also hard to come by around here, ever since wonder hubby started nursing school (14 more months to go...).

We spent some time watching sweet son eat his cone and chatting with the owners. Nanna and family. They could not be nicer--and good entrepeneurs too. They even grill up some of the best ribs in the city (according to some neighbors I talked to) right there in the yard next to the ice cream shop. $7.00 will get you potato salad, a drink, and some of the biggest, yummiest ribs around.

So, if you find yourself out and about in NoPo, come check out my favorite new place--Nanna's Scoops. Coming North on MLK from downtown, you take a left onto Killingsworth and take the first right into the alley behind the bank. I'd link to their site, but they don't have one yet (anyone out in cyber land interested...).

Good food. Good people. Good prices.

I love Nanna's Scoops.

We are...under construction.

Meet Dennis

2007-09-15T10:29:00.000-07:00

This is Dennis Kucinich and his wife, Elizabeth. In a world where politicians appear to be acting, it is refreshing to see someone so unwavering in his or her political convictions. If I had to guess, I would say that a President Kucinich would be every conservative's worst nightmare. He makes Obama and Hillary look like Republicans.

Still, I like him. As a Congressman he has been against the Iraq war from day one. Read this from his campaign site:

"In 2002 the second great challenge of his elected career occurred. After analyzing the “evidence” presented by the Administration in its rush to folly in Iraq and actually reading the National Intelligence Estimate, he stepped forward to help lead 125 Democrats in voting against the blank check for the President to wage an illegal, immoral and ineffective war.

Speaking from the floor of the House some 140 times against the war and appearing on over 100 radio and talk shows was a risky political move. But it did not stop him. The neo-cons and their complicit friends in media engaged in a frenzy of caustic name calling. In Feb. of 2003 when Dennis explained on “Meet the Press” that oil was a key causal factor for the war and that our troops would be trapped in a costly door-to-door war, administration zealot Richard Perle insisted Dennis’ comments were “scurrilous” and “an out-and-out lie.” Richard Cohen of the Washington Post chimed in to agree with Perle calling a Congressman who saw no evidence of WMDs and did see oil as a cause for war a “fool.” Other “mainstream” opinion commentators called him a “clown” and worse for not seeing the clear evidence of WMDs.

For his tireless and courageous efforts he was awarded the Ghandi Peace Award in 2003."

I've got to admire a guy who stands by his convictions--in a good way. Meaning, standing by convictions he and I share. Unlike some politicians...who stand by convictions that make me ill.

Did I mention, he's a vegan? Love that.

Now, I know the likelihood that he will get the Democratic nomination is, uhhh, slight (nil?), still I love his courage and optimism. Talk about the "audacity of hope"--that's Dennis.

Plus, wouldn't it be nice to say to our kids, "Sure a vegan can be President. Dennis is."

We are...under construction.

Nerdy Hot

2007-09-14T05:19:00.000-07:00

Isn't he dreamy? I will admit that I have read two books he has authored: Dreams of my Father and The Audacity of Hope. I would put Dreams of my Father on my list of all time favorite memoirs...and I've read A LOT of memoirs. It is, hands down, the best critique of race in America I have ever read. He is so wise. Soooo wise.

I know he doesn't have much experience with foreign policy or real intimate knowledge of the intensity of the White House bubble. I think, though, that is a good thing. He also has some great policies (more on that later). Because he worked for so long in Chicago working for tenants' rights (after he graduated from Harvard Law, and btw was the first black editor of the Harvard Law Review), I get the sense that he really means it when he says we need to come together as a nation. I believe him when he says that, as Americans, whether we are from red or blue states, we have more commonalities than differences. I think that too. I believe he would be a powerful agent for change for our country. Plus, wouldn't it be nice to say to our children, "Of course a person with brown skin can be President. Barack is."

Plus, he's so dang adorable.

We are...under construction.

Yes, a woman can be President

2007-09-13T06:03:00.000-07:00

Click on title to see everyone who is supporting Hillary so far. The only really impressive name to me is Tammy Baldwin the awesome congresswoman from Wisconsin (who also happens to be a lesbian--but that is beside the point). She rocks.

Here are the top ten reasons to support Hillary (according to Hillary).

Okay, I know she is beyond a Washington insider. I know she seems too polished. But, she is smart, has some great policies (more on that later), and wouldn't it be nice to say to our daughters, "Of course you can be President some day. Hillary is."

We'll see who is endorsing Obama (love him) tomorrow.

Mission Accomplished

2007-09-10T20:21:00.000-07:00

He came through with a gold star. He spent most of the night reenacting (for those of you that know him, this won't come as a surprise) the entire day. He fell asleep at 7:30 PM, but not before he told me that he wishes "tomorrow would hurry up and get here" because he can't wait to go to kindergarten again.

I managed to make it the whole day without crying, which, as you will recall is a definite step up from the first time I left him to go to work. Baby steps. Baby steps.

The good thing about working is that once you're at work you are too busy to think much about anything but work. I took comfort in the fact that I could be the teacher to my students that I knew my son's teacher was being for him: compassionate, energetic, patient, and very present. And just in case I miss him this week, his teacher had the kids make their parent a "hand kiss" to carry around mom or dad's neck. It has his hand print with drawings and "kisses" he put all over it. Have I mentioned how much I love his kindergarten teacher? Love her.

That bus ride won't be so lonely thanks to his hand kiss and your warm wishes. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled blogging. Coming soon: Obama or Hillary or Dennis? I love all three. Who are you leaning towards?

We are...under construction.

Cat's in the cradle and a silver spoon

2007-09-09T20:53:00.000-07:00

I would post a picture of sweet son on his first day of kindergarten, but I will have left for work before he even gets up tomorrow morning (violins, please). I missed two morning classes last week so I could attend a parent-teacher-child-before-school conference/assessment with his (very awesome) kindergarten teacher. I had to choose between the conference and dropping him off on the first day. I thought building a rapport with the teacher was the more mature choice, but deep down inside I selfishly would prefer to be the one putting on his backpack, making his favorite breakfast, and holding his hand on the walk to school on the first day. Maturity won out; however, I'm still sad I won't be there to see him off tomorrow.

Truth be told, I'm sure you won't be shocked to hear, that this is 100% my issue. He couldn't be happier his dad is going to be with him tomorrow morning and that his Nonna is going to pick him up after school. He knows I made him his extra special (and very unhealthy) lunch: ham sandwich on white (gasp) bread--no crust, Capri Sun (double gasp), Cheetos (appalled silence all around), thinly sliced peaches, a few carrots, and two homemade chocolate chip cookies. He knows that I helped him set out his clothes before bed tonight so he'll be all set tomorrow. He knows I cut his finger nails after his bath so that he would be spink-spankin-sparkley clean.

He does not know how much I wish I could be there. Working mom guilt is brutal, at least for me. The major rites of passage seem to hit me harder than they do my stay-at-home mom friends. Maybe it is because I'm a working outside the home mom who carries a boatload of guilt. Maybe it is because I have an only child, so with each milestone I miss I am acutely aware that I just missed that particular event for the last time. Sweet son will only be in kindergarten once (God willing:).

I know that there are thousands of other parents about to send their children off to school via intermediary tomorrow. I'm not alone.

But come 8:00 AM, when I'm riding the bus to work and thinking about my little guy walking to school with his dad, I'm going to feel exactly that...alone.

Okay. Enough pity party. I'll be over this by the time I've heard all the exciting news tomorrow evening.

Give your kids, nieces, nephews, grandchildren big hugs and kisses. It goes by too fast, doesn't it?

We are...under construction.

Love this picture

2007-09-08T09:39:00.000-07:00

Click above to see my favorite family picture of all time. Yes, all those kids are siblings. Beautiful.

Mmmmm...cake

2007-09-07T07:56:00.000-07:00

It was wonder hubby's birthday this week, so we made our favorite chocolate cake. Big vegan style, of course. Both wh and I are sugar heads, so we don't skimp on the stuff that is bad for your. If you are skeptical that a vegan cake can be moist and chocolatey delicious, try this recipe. You won't taste the difference.

Ingredients:
2.25 cp flour
1.5 cp sugar
.5 cp cocoa
1.5 tsp baking soda
1.5 tsp salt
1.5 cps warm water
.5 cp oil
1.5 tsp vanilla
1.5 tsp vinegar

Frosting:
2 cps powdered sugar
.25 tsp salt
.25 cp soymilk
1 tsp vanilla
.33 cps margarine (Earth Balance Shortening in the stick form works great)

Cake:
Preheat oven to 350.
Combine flour sugar, cocoa, baking soda, and salt in bowl and stir.
Pour in water, oil, and vinegar into bowl with dry ingredients.
Mix with mixer.
Pour into two 8" greased layer pans
Bake for 30 minutes/check with knife.
Cool for 10 minutes.
Remove cakes and place on wire racks.
Frost.

Frosting:
Add all ingredients into a bowl.
Mix with mixer.

The top seven weird things about me (that are fit to print)

2007-09-04T20:15:00.001-07:00

I have to preface this post by saying that the following ramblings (not to mention all of my previous posts) would be funnier, more honest, and definitely more wild if it weren't for the following two items: 1) the knowledge that one of my students or their parents may stumble upon this blog, and 2) my mom and other people related to me read jess-underconstruction regularly. To all those of you that know me (especially my college friends) in far more weird ways, please refrain from posting said weirdness. I don't need my mom reading about it...not to mention my son, heaven forbid he should ever read this.

My friend Megan just tagged me to list six weird things about myself.

Here are seven:
7) Wonder hubby and I got evicted from our first and last apartment nine a half years ago when Milo bit the plumber. Which ended up being a good thing (for us...not the plumber) because our eviction forced us to get serious about buying a house. Which is also a good thing because if we would have waited to get into the housing market in our great city, we would have been priced out.
6) I shaved my head almost bald when I was in college.
5) I am a vegan.
4) I will confront evildoers in my neighborhood if there is a child in the vicinity of their evildoings. The most explosive incident occurred when I saw what seemed to be the 100th drug deal go down outside a rental house a few doors down from our old house. A five year-old neighbor girl was riding her bike just a few feet from the obvious illicit transaction. It was the proverbial straw. I marched up to the drug dealer and requested that he move his business to a kid-free location. Or at least off of our block. Drug dealer didn't appreciate my kind suggestion. He called me all sorts of names that I can't print here because my students might be reading. Later that night, we had a knock at our door, and there was drug dealer's girlfriend who had come to verbally harass/threaten/intimidate me some more. Still, they moved two weeks later. I don't give a crap how you make your living...as long as you don't expose children to your crimes. Don't mess with me--this girl's got some serious pent-up rage.

3) I have a serious crush on the brilliant mind and writer, Leonard Pitts. He is a Pulitzer Prize winning columnist for the Miami Herald. His social and political commentary on everything from the economy, race, war, and education are searingly honest and so right on. Besides that, he's adorable. He's not traditionally GQ hot, but he's just my type--nerdy hot. In a parallel universe where neither he nor I are married to our respective spouses...

2) Wonder hubby and I have walked for one hour almost every night of our ten-year marriage. I highly recommend this activity. It's way cheaper than counseling.
1) I have unusually large teeth. See my photo at top. And yes, I drink coffee and haven't gotten around to whitening my teeth yet. So, I guess they're not only big...but yellow, too. Gross!

Gina, I'm tagging you now! You're it. Let's hear six weird things about you...

We are...under construction.

Bin on a Whim

2007-09-02T12:42:00.000-07:00

I have a not-so-secret addiction. This morning I feel like an addict who just went on a binge. Except, instead of feeling exhausted and worthless and dirty after a morning of indulging in my drug, I just feel happy. Really happy. I'm addicted to Binning.

For those of you who don't live in my great city, prepare to be impressed...and a little grossed out.

The Bin Store (the picture on this link is Megan's family at the Bins) is a gigantic warehouse where Goodwill sends all of their stuff that won't sell or they don't have room for at the "regular" Goodwill stores. Megan and I have been regular Bin customers for quite sometime. Here we find J. Jill jeans, North Face fleece jackets, and innummerable Old Navy kid's clothes for $1.39 a pound (up from $1.19 a pound a few years ago--price of gasoline and all). We have also found the desk I'm typing on (an old picnic table), my son's dresser, our living room table, the rug in our living room, etc... All at prices that make garage sales look like Nordstroms.

My addiction to Binning (note--we use "Bin" as either a noun and a verb) is intense. It is the thrill of the treasure hunt that gets me EVERY time. So much so that when we turn the corner into the parking lot I feel my heart start to race. I'm not exaggerating.

There are some downsides to Binning. Things that make other people's skin crawl: used underwear (need I say more), the intensity of other Bin shoppers (many of whom sell their goods on Ebay), touching so much used stuff--which is occaisionally wet. Nothing like grabbing a cool planter, only to discover it is full of some unidentified liquid. Ewwwww.... My brother, awesome thrifter that he is, doesn't like the energy of the Bins. He especially doesn't like MY energy when I'm at the Bin. A pacifict by nature, I'm ready to throw down for a pair of Danskos at The Bin.
Not pretty.

Still, I love Binning. Because of days like today.

Flashback: You see, a friend of ours came over for lunch a few weeks ago. I set out a nice spread on our ten year-old, tippy, plastic, green patio table. We enjoyed a few minutes on the patio, until she declared that she couldn't tolerate any more sun, especially on our reflective patio. Damn, I thought, if only we had a patio umbrella. And a decent table that could support an umbrella. Oh well, maybe when wonder hubby is out of nursing school. We certainly can't afford to drop $200 for new patio stuff right now.

Then I accompanied Megan on a last minute Bin trip this morning. It was the mother load of all trips. Two minutes after we entered the building I found a very, very sturdy cedar patio table I had looked at new (retailing for $200). Soon after I found a patio umbrella to go with it. Plus, two hanging crates for recyclables--which can now be stored out-of-sight in our back stairway instead of in the kitchen. Total bill? $22. Seriously. Sweet.

Megan and I set up the patio treasures in our backyard. "I wish this umbrella would rotate so that you could turn it to block the sun no matter what angle the sun is at," I said.

"Beggars can't be choosers," Megan retorted, looking at the pole. "Oh wait, watch this." She twisted the pole in a particular place, and viola--the umbrella rotated to block the sun. Beyond happy. BEYOND happy.

Sure, you have to be willing to dig through some really gross stuff. But it is all worth it when you come out with treasures like the table and umbrella in the picture above.

Having it all=Binning.

We are...under construction.

No Beauty Queen Left Behind

2007-09-01T09:01:00.001-07:00

Miss Teen USA 2007 - South Carolina answers a question

1 degree of separation

2007-08-31T09:21:00.000-07:00

You know that game, "6 degrees of Kevin Bacon"? Well, in our great city it is more like 1 degree of separation from everyone we know. This is no small feat because our great city is over 2 million if you factor in the suburbs.

Case in point: Back in March I was interviewing for the job I was eventually offered. The principal asked me where I lived. I told him the street name. He said, "Wow, the teacher who you would be replacing lives on that street." He told me the address, and I discovered she lived three blocks from me. Weird, considering that we teach in a far-out suburb--and we live in the city. Small world.

It gets smaller. So then the principal hired me, and I began working at the school this week. Another teacher heard that I lived in the city near the old teacher. She asked where I lived. It turns out her son owns a house about half a block from ours. In fact, our good friends tried to buy this house from her husband and his son about two years ago. So, we had met her husband a couple of times. In the city miles and worlds removed from the suburb where we teach.

Smaller still. Last night we went to a staff party. A new teacher introduced himself to me and wonder hubby. He asked where we lived (you can see where this is going...), we told him the street. He told us that his brother-in-law and his wife live on the same street. It turns out they live two houses away from us. In fact, we consider them to be our closest friends on the block.

Weird, weird, weird. One of the reasons I like working away from the city is so that I can maintain my anonymity. Not so much anymore.

I want to give a shout out to my mom who has a front page article in her local paper. When they post it on their website, I'll link to it.

Also, my friend Megan is going to be featured in a cool on-line art magazine. I'll link to that when it comes out.

You go girls!

Having it all means living within one degree of separation from everyone else in our great city.

We are...under construction.

More results are in...

2007-08-29T18:11:00.001-07:00

I'm sure you'll be shocked (not) to hear that 6 out of 7 respondents to the last poll would have taken more time off after the birth or adoption of their children if their company had offered more or any (in most cases) paid leave. I wonder what the compensated paid leave policies would be if men gave birth. Just a thought.

Change

2007-08-29T06:17:00.000-07:00

Change is good. That is my mantra this week. I started work at my first new job in 7 years. It is so mentally exhausting to meet so many new people. Wow. Poor first year teachers. They got all that PLUS they don't know what they're going to do in the classroom. But, they're usually young and without kids, so they can afford to work until 10 PM every night.

The people are nice. Very nice. I like it. I saw my old peeps yesterday, and I definitely had some trasferers remorse, though. After seven years, some of your coworkers become like family. Some of those people knew me when I was 26. Weird.

We go to sweet son's kindergarten openhouse/pizza party/puppet show tonight. Change is good. Change is good. HOW CAN I HAVE A FIVE YEAR-OLD?? The closer we get to him starting school, the more I wish I worked part-time.

Wonder hubby is on break from nursing school. Two days until fall term starts for him. His program is so intense because it is accelerated (everyone in his cohort already has a bachelor's in something else and their nursing program is only 18 months. He, the over achiever that he is, MUST get straight A's, so the guy works all the time. See picture above. That is him on a camping trip this summer...reading a textbook. He really needed to have this break.

Well, I'm off to listen to a presenter who will teach me how to meet the needs of ALL my learners--all 150 of them, figure out how to use the copy machine, learn who to go for for what, and do other things that new people do.

Change is good, right?

We are...under construction.

Good-bye Summer

2007-08-27T20:02:00.000-07:00

What happens when you tell sweet son and his sweet friend to go outside and play so you can get some work done. Well, you hear the door open, slam; open, slam; open, slam about fifteen times before you think to ask, "What are you guys doing?"

When you hear a very guilty and simultaneous, "Nothing," you decide to investigate. Which is when you find the contents of your front hall closet, every blanket in the house, and all the pillows on the first floor arranged haphazardly on the patio. No, it is not a re-creation of the local landfill, you are told. Clearly, they tell you, it's super secret fort--and no they cannot take it down. It is their fortress against evil. Who can argue against such logic? There is a crapload of evil in this world (although a certain Attorney General just resigned--already you feel a little safer).

You'll miss the summer forts.

And you'll miss questions like this: "Mom, if two bees don't know each other and are afraid of each other, can one of them sting the other?"

Which has you stumped--do bees sting each other?

The chaos of the school year doesn't provide much opportunity for creating fortresses against evil and pondering the wonder of life's minutiae.

We're back at it. My first day back today. I wish I had a fortress against evil.

We are...under construction.

Gossip and Grace Paley

2007-08-26T17:05:00.000-07:00

My friend Megan told me about an author who died. She heard the story on NPR last week. She explained that the author had written short stories and was interviewed before she died. This author had said something about gossip and stories and women. I was 100% positive Alice (I bow down to your greatness) Munro had said something like this.

So, I went to www.npr.org and discovered I was wrong; Grace (I also bow down to your greatness) Paley was the writer who discussed storytelling and gossip. Sadly, she died last week at the age of 84. Here is the quote:

"The word 'gossip,' which is considered so terrible, is really ... it's just another way of storytelling," Paley said in a 1985 NPR interview. "And it's the way women tell stories, and it's kind of denigrated, 'cause its women who do it ... you know?"

Sing it sister.

Having it all means reading Alice Munro and Grace Paley.

PS--All this summer fun has us exhausted. Time to go back to school. The chaos begins tomorrow!

We are... under construction.

Gravy

2007-08-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of wonder hubby and sweet son, who is sporting a Beatles cut.

Anyway, the ghosts...I mean goals of my past (see previous post) got me thinking about my current goals. How goals change over time. Having it all circa 1988 looks much different than having it all 2007. Instead of a red gloss beadspread and Redken shampoo, I want international vacations for my family, a bathroom on the second floor of the house, beau coup savings for sweet son's college and our retirement. All very doable, if we work hard and budget well (she said with false bravado).

And, I want one or two more kids.

Which sucks because wonder hubby is 100% certain that he only wants to have one child. There are so many rational reasons for having only one kid: air travel--easy with only one, more classes/extracurricular activities because we don't have to juggle another child's schedule, college tuition, college tuition, and college tuition. It's probably going to be a billion dollars by the time sweet son graduates. Plus, wonder hubby was an only child, and he never missed having a sibling.

Sigh. So here I am. Slowly giving up my visions of Thanksgiving 2035. Which basically include a boisterous group of my adult children and their families gathered around our table. Lots of laughing and talking and eating.

I have to let this goal go. Because being married means making compromises. And my wonder hubby's need to have only one child is much stronger than my occasional twinges of wanting more kids. Plus, we can't have children biologically and have chosen to build our family through adoption. And you can't have an "accidental" adoption. "Ooops honey, I don't know how it happened, but there is a social worker here to do a homestudy for a second adoption. I know we didn't plan this, but since she's here, let's go for it! It's a sign." In adoption both parents have to want to adopt. It's kind of a requirement.

I should also say that this is a relatively new goal. Like, since I became a mom five years ago. I didn't grow up thinking about Thanksgiving 2035 with the large family, so I'm not sacrificing a life-long dream.

And goals change. I know that having it all today is different from 1988, and it will surely be different from 2025--not to mention 2035. And I like being married. Check that, I LOVE being married to my wonder hubby. Before we met in college (14 years ago!!!), I would see him around campus and dream that one day he would notice me. And then, one day, he did. To this day I can't believe how lucky I got. So, I'm letting my visions of a bigger family go because the important part of Thanksgiving 2035 is that my two favorite guys--my sweet son and wonder hubby--are there. Everything else is just gravy.

We are...under construction.

Goals

2007-08-23T07:32:00.000-07:00

I ran across this gem while cleaning out our storage closet--my goal sheet, which was tacked above my desk for my freshman year of high school. Classic. As you can see, I was really deep.

What did having it all mean when you were in high school?

We are...under construction.

Buy Diapers--Not Bombs

2007-08-21T18:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I know that most of you have better things to do than read a boring policy report. Fortunately for you, I don't. So, in a nutshell, here are some of the salient findings from the article in the posting below:

* The U.S. ranked dead last in EVERY category of this extensive survey of compensated care in 30 countries.
* Only the U. S. and Austalia don't guarantee paid leave for birth or adoption, but Australian families do get a lump sum of $3000 for the birth or adoption of every child. What do we get in the United States of America? Nada.
* Every country...except ours truly...guarantees health insurance for mom and baby--and usually everyone else too!
* If we lived in Canada we would get 55% of our wages for 35 weeks after the birth or adoption of our children.

I also heard (on Oprah, from the mouth of Dr. Robin, so you know it must be true) that the US, Swaziland, Papua New Guinea, and Lesthoto are the only countries IN THE WORLD that don't guarantee some kind of paid leave. I'm still looking for the facts on that...not that I don't trust Oprah's Dr. Robin, but it seems difficult to believe that we are in a race to the bottom with only three other countries when it comes to protecting and supporting families. I'll post those findings when I can track down Dr. Robin's sources.

In the meantime, I leave you with this--would you rather your tax dollars support American families struggling to have it all, or would you rather those same tax dollars be used to bomb other mothers and children in far away lands?

That's what I thought.

We are...under construction.

PS--Let's see if we can beat the previous record of 7 votes (and one was my mom's). Check out the latest poll about paid leave.

Money and Motherhood

2007-08-21T05:45:00.000-07:00

Click below to see how we stack up against other developed nations regarding paid family leave. You got it--not so much. http://www.urban.org/UploadedPDF/1001079_adoption_Jun07.pdf

Things I will not miss about summer...

2007-08-20T09:38:00.000-07:00

Now, don't get me wrong, I love a good board game. I do not, however, enjoy playing the SAME game multiple times everyday. But I'm not five. Five year-old are at the stage when they are perfecting their skills--like phonics (thus, they want to read the same books over and over and over), swimming (thus, they want to practice their backfloat for two hours in the pool), and playing Chutes and Ladders (thus, they want to play it every waking moment).

Here is the list of things I will not miss about summer:
1) Picking up dog poop and scrubbing the pavers in the backyard everyday. Despite the fact that we created a secluded, bark dusted corner of the otherwise patio/pavered back yard, Milo
Link

INSISTS on flinging his doo all around the patio. We eat our meals out there everyday in the summer--which means that the poop has to be disposed of every day. BTW, Milo also goes for a three mile-walk everyday, and he also goes #2 during the walk. Which means that I pick up his mess TWO times a day during the summer.

2) Lack of intellectual stimulation and/or adult conversation. Thus, the blogging.

3) Getting pissy when it is cool and cloudy. At least in the winter I expect it to be cool and cloudy, so I don't get pissy about it. Today, as it has been for far too many days this meteorologically-weird summer, it is 60 degrees and drizzly.

4) The endless to-do list which includes: clean out garage, clean out basement, clean out storage closet, organize junk drawer, create recipe binder, paint trim around front door and gable windows, weed (endlessly), water plants (endlessly), organize sock drawer (I'm not kidding--it's out-of-control), etc... I've accomplished about half the items on my list. Only a week before the chaos begins. Once I start working I absolutely put household projects on hold until the next school break. So, whatever doesn't get done by next Monday won't get done until winter break. The good news is that I don't think about household projects during the school year. I don't have the (seemingly) endless to-do list hanging over my head all the time. September means a reprieve from the honey dos.

5) The monotony. My mom once asked my very young brother how his day went at school. He replied that it was monotonous. She said, "Son, do you know what monotonous means?" He retorted, "Yeah, you can do different boring things every day, but monotony is when you do the same boring thing everyday." For me, June and July are heaven. Mid-August brings the monotony. Teaching middle school is many things--boring and monotonous are not two of them.

Tomorrow, I'm back go back to work for an all-day workshop. Then, five days until the chaos begins.

For me, right now, having it all means sending sweet son off to kindergarten and sending myself off to the challenge and excitement of teaching middle school.

We are...under construction

Summer Nostalgia

2007-08-18T08:59:00.000-07:00

Here are things I will miss about summer break:
1) Keeping the windows open--love the fresh air.
2) Swimming at the neighborhood pool--especially the days when wonder hubby doesn't have nursing school and can enterain sweet son and his sweet friend so I can read and or nap on the lounge chair next to the pool.
3) Playdate with our other stay-at-home friends. Now I'll be back to seeing some of my buds when we can find the too-rare open weekend day.
4) Cooking yummy meals. I know I can still cook during the school year--but the meals will have to be simple and easy. I'm not above serving a bowl of Cheerios on the especially busy night.
5) Fresh fruit.
6) No work drama--don't get me started. That could be an entire blog in and of itself..or perhaps more of a soap opera.
7) Sleeping in. Which means 7:30. I'll especially miss the luxury of the 7:30 AM wake up the first time my alarm goes off at 5:30 AM AND it is a drizzly 50 degrees outside--and I have to picture walking from the train to my school. UGH!
8) Watching the sweet kids run through the many fountains of our great city...during the fun playdates with other stay-at-home parents.
9) The smell of sunscreen.
10) The sun. Did I mention we live in the Northwest?

7 days and counting until the chaos begins.

Having it all means, for me, means having summers off.

We are...under construction.

The Ladder

2007-08-17T06:56:00.000-07:00

I posted a link to Nurse Jack's blog yesterday because I like what she said about the tension between pursuing a career and pursuing parenting. I have found the same tension in my life.

For example, when we were in the process of adopting our sweet son, I told our social worker at the homestudy that I planned to work part-time when our child was in school because I had seen too many working parents blindsided by their child's fall from academic grace because the parents were too frazzled to keep up any sort of regular communication with the school. And I don't care how much a twelve year-old screams about not needing the adults in his/her life--they do. Desperately. Watching my pre-adolescent students try to juggle the demands of six different teachers for six different subjects is often a painful experience. I doubt many adults could do a better job at handling the multiple daily assignments, behavior expectations, athletic practicies, church youth groups, social obligations, and family responsibilities we hand our seventh graders. I have found that the kids that seem to be the most comfortable in their own skin are the kids whose parents check in on a regular basis with the teachers and encourage their children to advocate for themselves as well. These are the kids who come home from school and have someone to meet them at the door who really wants to know how their day went.

Which is why I want to be around for my child during his school age years.

However, earlier this year I was encouraged to apply for a position that would be a definite step up on the career ladder. It was a teacher training position. I love teaching, and I have a deep commitment to supporting first year educators, but this position was temporary and would require that I complete yet another post-grad program within two years. It was a tracked position for an administrator postion. In my same interview with our social worker, I said that when my son was off to college I would then commit to advancing my career--which would probably mean becoming a school administrator. Now here was an opportunity to achieve my professional goals sooner. Like just as my son entered kindergarten.

I considered applying for the job. Seriously considered it. I was flattered, and I knew I would be good at it. Still, after talking about it at length with wonder hubby and my mentor at the university, I decided NOT to apply for the position. My sweet son will only be young for a short time--I want to be around for him. The ladder isn't going anywhere; I can just as easily climb it at 45 as at 35.

Sidenote: Teaching is an incredibly family-friendly profession. Case in point--earlier this year my son's daycare was closed because it was snowing in our great city (we got a whole inch--see picture of son praying snowman won't melt away). However, my school district, which is two suburbs removed from great city, remained open. It never occured to us that the childcare center would be closed, so we didn't discover the problem until we drove up to the building and saw that all the lights were off and the big CLOSED sign hanging from the door. Time for the working parent's nightmare--try to hobble together a childcare plan b in less than the twenty minutes you have to get to work. Wonder hubby could not stay home due to hospital accredidation visits that were happening THAT DAY!!! As I had no notes prepared for a substitute and my two backup providers were unavailable, I did the only thing I could--I took him to work with me. Which worked out great because my prinicipal was hosting a pizza party for my classes at lunch AND two Harlem Globetrotters were performing at our school for a drug awareness program. My little partner in crime is so good in school--he is quiet, respectful, and hands out stickers to the kids as they finish their work. My students loved having him there. My wonder hubby said later that night, "You are so lucky to work at a place where you can bring your child in during a childcare emergency and your boss doesn't get mad. In fact, he gives your son piggy back rides at lunch. Plus, he gets to hang out and watch the Harlem Globetrotters. Seriously, that doesn't happen at most workplaces." No it doesn't. I am blessed.

Right now "having it all" means stepping off the ladder.

We are...under construction.

Student Nurse Jack: A Mother Lode of Choices

2007-08-16T20:37:00.000-07:00

Student Nurse Jack: A Mother Lode of Choices

The votes are in...

2007-08-15T05:43:00.000-07:00

71% of the 7 people who voted want to work part-time and stay-at-home part-time, 14% want to work full-time outside the home, and 14% want to stay at home full-time. Let's see how we compare to a similar survey conducted by Oprah. Two-thirds of the 15000 women who responded said that they would prefer to stay home (I assume full-time, the survey didn't elaborate) with their kids. Read more about it here
http://www2.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/200701/tows_past_20070123_b.jhtml I think many people want a little of both.

Which brings up the f word--feminism. The last sentence in my first paragraph sounds judgey of women who don't want to make the same decisions I make. And the last thing I want to be is judgey of other women. It aggravates me when women denigrate each other for their personal/professional decisions. As if a woman who decides to stay home is somehow less of a feminist than a woman who works 50 hours per week. Or, conversely, a woman who chooses to work outside the home loves her family less than a woman who stays at home. Please! We're all women struggling to do right by ourselves, our families, and society. We need to support each other--which is what feminism is all about; not tear each other down. And I think "having it all" means something different for each individual family. So I apologize to all people for the last sentence in the first paragraph. UNLESS, you are Marilyn Quayle (remember Vice President Dan's wife), and you declare that ALL women should leave the workplace and return to their homes. I think Marilyn and women like her need to be shunned by womankind.

Enough of the soapbox.

Now for the plums. The picture at the top is of some plums that sweet son and I were offered the other day. By a complete stranger. My friend Megan, http://www.tadahpdx.blogspot.com, has a cool thread on her blog about why they love our great city. I'm going to shamelessly steal this idea. One of the reasons I love our city is because, let's say, you are be riding bikes with your sweet son. Out of nowhere you hear a voice yell, "Hey, you two want some plums?" Perhaps your wonder hubby has enrolled in a full-time nursing program, requiring a financial sacrifice for the duration of the schooling. Free fruit? You're all over it. So, despite the fact that you have warned sweet son to never ever chat with anyone who offers him food and or a puppy, you stop. A kind woman appears from a tree in her yard. She is carrying a very large bag of plums. She swears there is no way her family can eat all the plums and you should definitely take the entire bag. You and sweet son and wonder hubby spend the rest of the week enjoying the sugary goodness of the purple fruit and wonder at the kindness of strangers in your great city.

Not like the fruit assault of 1996, when you were victimized by flying fruit in a large city in the Midwest. This was the time when you were going for a morning jog and were pelted by a banana from a car going 45 miles an hour. You thought you'd been shot because the pain was soooo bad. No, it was just a banana.

Having it all, for us, means living in our great city here in the Northwest. Fruit is for making friends--not war!

We are...under construction.

Domestic Goddess In Training

2007-08-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

I've said before that I did not grow up fantasizing about making beds or providing well-balanced meals for my family. In fact, I'm sure I thought that a life dedicated to the domestic sphere was...sad. A waste of someone's talents and gifts. I'm sure my parents tried to teach me some tricks of the trade, as we grew up in a house that was clean and we were always well fed. But, being a teenager means you know everything and your parents know nothing, so I'm sure I rudely rejected their kind tutelage.

What a difference fifteen years makes. After spending the previous decade working full-time and having my wonder hubby attend to the house stuff, we're about to enter the territory of the dual full-time working parents. And we won't have enough money to afford a house keeping service. I'm imagining piles of dirty dishes and laundry. Sweet son sniffing shirts he picks off the floor to see if they are clean-ish because his parents are too busy and exhausted to put his clothes away--and he is too short to reach the hangers in his closet. Ten years after leaving my college with an English/women studies degree, I aspire to be a part-time housewife. This doesn't mean, however, that I'm any GOOD at the domestic arts. In fact, I suck. But that doesn't mean I can't improve. Which is why I consider myself to be a domestic-goddess-in-training. Some people are born with the cooking, mending, housekeeping gene, I swear. Unfortunately, I wasn't one of them.

So, early last year I asked my friend M., who used to own a fabulous little cafe in our neighborhood, if I could hire her to give me cooking lessons in her newly renovated, restaurant-grade kitchen. She agreed and immediately started putting a curriculum together.

Shortly before our first class we had a dinner party. I was helping sweet hubby prepare food in the kitchen. As M. watched me fumble with the food processor and mash the garlic that was supposed to be minced, she suggested in her sweet, unassuming way, that perhaps the first lesson she had planned for the following week was too advanced.

I was officially a remedial cooking student.

And thank God for that because I learned soooo much in that first cooking class for dummies. For example, you need some quality tools--like sharp knives. Who knew how much easier it was to make a stir fry with a decent knife? Eventually we moved on to preparing entire multi-course meals. At the end of every class we sat down in her child-free house and enjoyed a bottle of wine and our newest culinary creations. It was heaven. Plus, I learned enough to be able to cook for my family at home--which made wonder hubby happy, considering he had been making us hearty, yummy, nutritious meals for the previous ten years.

I'm getting better at developing systems for keeping the house clean. I still let the laundry pile up too much. But, I have learned that putting it away RIGHT when it comes out of the dryer saves ironing time. And I don't care how many classes I take--I'll never appreciate ironing.

Having it all, for me, means (after teaching all morning) coming home to our humble abode (pictured above) everyday around 1 PM to make sure that my two favorite guys come home to a delicious meal and a clean house. But don't hold your breath on the ironing.

Who would have guessed?

We are...under construction.

Elementary School

2007-08-13T08:44:00.000-07:00

Back in the old days, people just enrolled their children in the neighborhood public schools--unless said parents were rich and/or Catholic. For the most part, folks attended their "feeder" school because it was usually within walking distance and everyone else in a five square mile area sent their school-age children there. Schools kept citizens connected to each other. Maybe this is still the case in other parts of the country.

Here in my great state, which does not have a reputation for well-funded schools (or even funding schools so they may remain in session for the federally mandated minimum number of days), choosing a school for your child can take up the better part of a year. There are charter schools, schools that receive 80% of their funding from the local school district but have programs and curriculum that are not available in regular school (rs); magnet schools that receive 100% of their funding from the local school district and follow the state curriculum but have a special emphasis such as art or a second language; and finally, our district has a policy of open enrollment, which means that if you don't like the school or program provided by your "feeder school" you may switch schools. All these options spin in a parent's mind: would my child thrive in a music magnet school, an holistic/environmental charter school, the rs, or another rs in a different neighborhood?

For the past two years, wonder hubby and I researched schools for our sweet son. Now, I work as a teacher in a public school, and I'm kind of a traditionalist by nature, so I was a somewhat cynical participant in the school-choice process. We visited a new k-8 arts magnet program that just opened in our feeder middle school. This middle school has a reputation as being one of the lowest performing in the state, but it had just received a large Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation Grant. During this open house we didn't feel at all welcome. We got the feeling from the principal and staff that they did not appreciate the gentrification of the neighborhood (caused by families like ours), and they were holding this open house because they were told to--not because they really wanted us to enroll our children in the school. I teach in a middle school, and I doubted my school's ability to switch from a 7-8 middle school to a k-8 magnet school in one year. We decided our sweet son was not going to be one of the guinea pig students to open the school that the staff didn't seem to support.

We ruled out a great charter school in our neighborhood, even though we like the mission, programs, and curriculum. Our son would have been one of the only students and teachers with brown skin. We want him to attend a school where he has peers from all over the place. He has definitely benefited from attending a preschool with kids and teachers from all over the world, and we were hoping to find a school with a similar population of students.

We did like a school near our house that housed a Spanish-immersion program. From k-8 he would have learned English and social studies in English (1/2 of day) and for the other half of the day he would have learned math and science in Spanish (absolutely NO English during second of day). We had heard from other parents that the principal was rigid and didn't communicate well with families, but we liked the program well enough to overlook this. We went to their open house where the principal told the audience that if we put this school as our top choice for our lottery we would get into the program. YES!! We were ecstatic. About a month later we received a letter telling us that not only did was our son's name not chosen for the lottery, he didn't even make it on the waiting list.

Which left us with our rs. It is a nice little school. We know quite a few kids from the neighborhood who attend. Their folks LOVE it. Our friend R., who is a stay-at-home dad, is the VP of the PTA. Within the past 5 years the school has experienced a renaissance (thanks, in part, to gentrification)--a very active PTA and a progressive, community-minded administrator. Our good friend volunteers as a SMART reader/garden coordinator there about four hours a week. We feel good about this little school. The only down side is that it is only k-5. This means that when sweet son is in 6th grade he will feed into the worst performing middle school in the state. We're hoping that the positive momentum we're seeing in the rs elementary school will carry over to the midddle school by the time sweet son is ready. If not, we'll be back to the school choice discussion.

Today, we're off to register sweet son at his first school. We hope we made the right decision.

Does having it all mean sending your child to the rs or to a special school/ program?

We are...under construction.

Open Letter

2007-08-11T07:54:00.000-07:00

Dear fairly elected (we hope) government officials and employers,

If you want to keep good employees, make sure you have policies that support working families. Government mandated, unpaid family leave is not enough. We need more. The price of goods and services keep rising, while our wages are not increasing at the same pace. And we don't just need a higher minimum wage--which we do.

We want flexible hours, paid leave to care for ailing family members, affordable and reliable healthcare, top notch schools, and quality before and after school child care. Also, we need laws that protect gay and lesbian couples so that they may raise their children within a legally protected union.

We are fortunate to live in an age and a country that offers a variety of options for professional and personal fulfillment for both men and women. Here is a short list of the variety of family/work arrangements I see in my friends' lives:

Megan--stay-at-home mom who volunteers many hours a week at her son's school, provides childcare for her preschool age son, maintains the home, and works as an artist during the few spare moments she can eek out during the day--but mostly at night. Her wonder hubby works full-time from home.

L.--L recently made partner at her law firm in a major US city (PS--she was a women's studies major in college--way to make us proud, L). She and her wonder hubby work full-time away from home and they pay for quality childcare near her firm.

M.--Took time off to care for her young children. Her awesome boss promised her he would save her job for one year for her. Because this awesome employer recognized and honored a kick-ass employee, she will remain loyal to his company. This guy is a forward thinking boss--we need more like him.

J2--Single mom who works full-time to support her child. Despite being a college graduate, her job in social services--a job she loves, pays her too much to qualify for aid, but barely enough to pay for rent and food and quality childcare.

R--He is a stay-at-home dad who cares for his child and home while his wife travels weekly for her sales job.

T.--She works part-time at a local botique and stays home part-time with her young kids. Her partner works full time as an engineer. T. gave birth to their children and her partner had to spend thousands of dollars to legally adopt them, despite the fact that BOTH women planned for and parented the children from day one.

Not all of these people have affordable healthcare. Many are making sacrifices, both personal and professional, to raise their children. It is time our government and workplaces created a variety of policies that support the variety of family systems in our society. We can't afford to assume that the traditional nuclear family--with working-outside-the-home dad and working-inside-the-home mom is the "norm" anymore.

The marketplace and government need to wake up and smell the strained peas: family-friendly policies mean happy, productive workers and a bustling economy.

We are...under construction.

Sincerely,
A full-time working mom who is struggling to patch together quality, affordable before and after school care for her sweet son

PS to readers--Feel free to add more family-friendly policies to this wish list.
PSS to readers--Check out these websites for more information on how to lobby your legistators and employers for more family-friendly policies.
www.momsrising.org
www.now.org

Milo

2007-08-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

This is Milo. In this picture it is about 8:05 AM. Wonder hubby had just left for nursing school...at approximately 7:55 AM. Milo has a mild (ahem) case of attachment disorder and insists on keeping his post at the picture window for the ENTIRE time wonder hubby is gone...which is often eight hours at a stretch. For those of you that know Milo, you know that he has some other interesting behaviors:
1) He enjoys running at people from behind (especially Megan) and putting his nose up their behind--full force.
2) He hates, with a vicious vengance, all things with wheels--especially skate boards and UPS trucks (Fed Ex trucks are okay). This makes walking him a full-body experience.
3) He rarely gets sick, but when he does...watch out. Two incidents come to mind--the first was when he developed a "stress tumor" filled with blood on his neck. He was stressed because we had been out of the country for 4 weeks and he couldn't deal (even though he was staying in our house, following the same routine, and was living with a live-in dog sitter who he considered to be family). The tumor got so bad that it started pressing on his throat and had to be surgically removed. Recently, he developed a stomach bug. He had daily stool, ahem, "problems" for over five days. After a week of cleaning up this stank we realized that it might be the end of Milo. Wonder hubby said, "Only Milo would go out in a flurry of *&$!" Miraculously, he made a full recovery the next day.
4) He has freaky hair and people don't like to pet him.
5) He has NO concience, which makes him impossible to train.

He does have some good qualities. For example, he sleeps on my sweet son's bed every night. He is an excellent guard dog. I have no doubt, because I have seen him hurt people who have been up to no good, that he would attack someone who tried to get into our house. So we have that going for us, which is nice.

Still, he is 11 and 1/2 years old. He isn't a snuggler, he tries to eat the mail carrier every day, he can't sit still, and he smells. So, I've been saying, for some time, that when Milo dies we're going to get a puppy. We got Milo as a one year old, and he had been abused and neglected by his previous family...so the guy's got issues. I want a sweet lab mix puppy that we can raise with love and consistency...so he won't be a freak. Not that I WANT Milo to die...but when it is his time, I won't waste much time getting down to the Humane Society for a puppy.

Then, a few weeks ago, Milo died--temporarily. Wonder hubby was tossing a racquet ball into the air and Milo was catching it. That is until the ball lodged deep in his throat and started to choke him. Milo started gagging. Wonder hubby, who has two months of medical training under his belt, picked Milo up and started the Heimlich maneuver. Nothing. At this point sweet son and wonder hubby are both in tears and screaming (I was out of the house). Milo can't get any oxygen and is frantic. Sweet son can't take any more and runs to the neighbors to get help. In the meantime, Milo loses consiousness and his tounge turns bright blue. Just as the neighbor comes running over, wonder hubby shoves his whole arm down Milo's throat and just reaches the ball. He yanks it out. Still, Milo is unconscious and his heart has stopped. Wonder hubby begins chest compressions, closes Milo's mouth, and blows air into his nose. After a couple sets, Milo cough, barfs, and starts panting for breath. He lies on the ground for 45 minutes, trying to catch his breath. Wonder hubby and sweet son pet him and laugh and cry the rest of the evening.

So, Milo is back from the dead. I keep looking for signs of brain damage, but, for those of you that know Milo, you know it is kind of hard to tell. For the past few weeks, sweet son has been haunted by the fact that he watched his "best friend", as he calls Milo--poor only child, die and come back to life. I'm so grateful that he didn't actually watch Milo die a painful, permanent death. Every night I tuck sweet son and Milo into bed. Milo curls up, puts his head on sweet son's back, and looks at me as if to say, "You're not getting rid of me that easily." And, I almost feel love for him. Almost.

I guess, right now, having it all means having Milo too.

We are...under construction.