PractiGal

Are you a middle-aged woman?

Apparently I am... and I can't stop laughing!

Have a listen! Download LISA_KOCH_Middle_Aged.mp3

h/t to my sister P., who's going to go through all this right on my heels since she's only 15 months younger than me!

The wonderful list of Craig

We had a street-wide yard sale last week, which was fun and exhausting. I'd much rather go to yard sales than host one of my own, personally. They're a lot of work! Especially with young children in & out of the house. We have a bunch of kids on our street.

Anyway, I have a TON of really nice stuff leftover, so I've been listing some of it on Craigslist. I had one of my items sell within hours of posting it -- as in, the buyer read my post, e-mailed me, and I responded. He called, then promptly came & picked up the item. Total time from my posting til the sale was about 12 hours. That's my kind of transaction!

Since then, my experiences have been less promising. I've received a few "yes, I want it, when can I come & get it" responses. I send my phone number so we can talk and arrange a meeting. Then days pass and they don't call. People leave me hanging left and right. Of course, I'm not considering anything sold til I have cash in hand. I am not holding anything for anyone!

But how's this for an awesome deal --  I posted a "wanted" note for some men's jeans in my husband's size, a few days before my yard sale. He needs work pants that can get grungy. Anyway, a woman responded that she had a bunch. We agreed on a price, and since she was headed to my neighborhood over the weekend & I was running a sale and couldn't leave, she brought the pants to me! And then shopped at my yard sale! We ended up doing a trade of sorts. SWEET!

Have you done much on Craigslist? How's it gone for you?

Let the good times roll

Today was Meet the Teacher Day. The preschool teacher, that is. We had our in-home visit from the preschool teacher. I was a little freaked out by the idea of having her come to our house, but it ended up being such a nice visit.

She arrived promptly at the appointed time, and my son greeted her at the door. She instantly focused 99% of her attention on him. She brought a photo album of the preschool, to show him the types of things he'd get to play with, inside and out, at our school. She brought a lift-the-flap book which gave her a chance to interact with my son and it gave her a chance to see what he knows -- animals, numbers, colors. He went along with it all from the safety of my lap, and I admit that I had a huge lump in my throat the entire time. Pride. Sadness. Joy. All rolled into one. My baby is starting his school life. Will he be excited to go to school? Who will become his friends? Will he meet kids in preschool that he'll know for his entire life?

The teacher took a picture that will be placed on my son's first school cubby.

And so we begin a whole new adventure!

Oh, and so he didn't come across as a complete genius, knowing all the colors and animals in his teacher's book, my little guy made sure to close the visit with one of his little-boy-tricks. Because every preschool teacher wants to see that you can snap the elastic on your underpants! Oh well, I guess that means he's comfortable with her!

Can you stick a sock in it? (please?)

I’ve resisted the urge to blog about this before. Because, well, I’m sure it’s not politically correct to vent on this topic. But here I go anyway.

Today, I find the perfect spot to work – a quiet corner in a quiet library. Laptop. WiFi. I’m set. Perfect for about half an hour, that is, until he comes along and places a pile of books on the table I’m using. Fine, of course – I’m sitting at a 4-top. There’s room for more than one here. But I’ve encountered this man here before. An elderly gent. Nice man I’m sure. He comes to the library for stacks of books and catches up on his in-library reading of various magazines. He parks it right next to me and proceeds to read his pile of magazines.

What’s the big deal, you say? That’s what people do at the library, right? He pays his taxes too!

I should preface what I'm about to say next by acknowledging that of course I have the occasional phlegm in my throat… In fact, right now my allergies are killing me and I have some post-nasal drip something fierce. BUT I do my best to keep it to myself. Especially in public.

Back to the library man. You see, he’s a grunter. I’m not talking about the occasional clearing of one’s throat. No. I’m talking full-fledged grunts. Scary grunts. Grunts that would send my son hiding if he were present. Loud, frequent grunts. Every one to two minutes – grunts.

Maybe there’s a medical condition that causes the grunting. I’m well aware of that possibility. It’s just that, this is the library!

But, would it be too much to ask to have the grunters, cell-phone users, clicky-typewriter users, gas-passers, and  teens who go to the library to socialize all congregate in one sound-proof room? Where they can make all the sounds they want?

Or maybe it’s the old bitties like me who need the sound-proof room. Where no one will hear me yelling: “Shhhhhhh!”

Maybe we should have named him Sally *

Mom: Would you like some strawberries?

Son: [shakes head no, then after some reflection, responds...]
"I'd like strawberries in a pink bowl. With no yogurt and no cereal."

Well! Alrighty then.

(* as in, When Harry Met Sally )

Home alone

It was with some hesitation and butterflies in my stomach that I agreed to let my husband take our little boy away with him on a very long-distance errand. One that left me by myself for the entire weekend.

You see, I couldn't go. I needed to use the weekend as work time, and I couldn't get my work done while taking care of my son. So I stayed behind. Here I was. Home alone.

Besides work, what does one do home alone?  It has been a looooooong time since I've been in my house alone, overnight. And I was home by myself for two nights! Funny. I lived by myself for several years before I got married, so it's not like it was a foreign concept. But wow -- it's different when there's a child in the picture. I mean, the umbilical cord is cut and all, but he's just so much a part of me now.

They left Friday morning. I was a little weepy and anxious. I just wanted them to get to their destination safely. And it's not that I don't trust my husband. Of course I do. But I am the mother, dammit!

Anyway, I started my weekend with a massage. The massage therapist commented on all the tension in my back. I told her that my family was away and got all choked up. Oh my goodness. But the massage was heavenly, and it was a perfect way to start my solo weekend.

Once I heard from my husband that they'd arrived safely at their destination Friday night, I was able to relax. My mind raced with the possibilities of things I could do! Read a book, clean the house, go to the gym, and on and on. As it turned out, I cranked on my work, which, unfortunately had me sitting at the computer on a beautiful weekend! But I took breaks to enjoy the gorgeous weather too. 

I had a mountain of things I wanted to do, in addition to my job. I wanted to really get things done while I had the house to myself. There weren't enough hours in the weekend for all of it, but I did sort through many bins of stuff for our upcoming yard sale, I organized mass quantities of toys, and I even did a little cleaning.

Two favorites from my weekend home alone:

Edy's Slow-churned Frozen Yogurt. Oh my goodness. Why did I only just find out about this? Have you tried it? The chocolate/vanilla swirl has only 100 calories per half cup. And it's incredibly creamy. Yum. Yum. Yum.

A new Jack Johnson CD. I swear, there is no way you can stay stressed out when you listen to his music. Cheap therapy. Seriously.

And now my guys are back. Two nights were plenty. I was relaxed and refreshed after that much time to myself.

I'm thinking that it's time for a parents weekend alone... Gotta work on swinging that one!

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PS-- Thank you to everyone coming by from Michele's!!! I am touched and honored that Michele bestowed the privilege of post of the week on one of my posts! And I am blown away by all the visitors and comments I've received from so many people. I am reminded on days like today what an amazing place this blogosphere is! Thanks, Michele! You completely made my day!

Phamily Phun

By the look of our house, you'd think we have at least 10 kids instead of 1. All the toys, clothes, books, toys, toys, and toys we have. Did I mention the boat-load of toys?

Anyway, a couple years ago or so, I had the bright idea that I'd rotate some of the toys in an attempt to keep the living room more presentable. I loaded up a big plastic bin with a bunch of stuff, then tucked it away in the hall closet. I figured every few weeks I'd pull it out, take out the stored toys, and stash other stuff away in its place. It was a splendid plan!

So, it's been at least two years since I took that bin out of the closet. I pulled it out the other day and found baby toys that my son has long since outgrown, along with a bunch of books whose whereabouts I'd questioned (although I must admit I have not missed Green Eggs and Ham -- at all!). And there were stuffed animals too. I think it must be in some sort of grandparent's creed that you shower your grandchild in stuffed toys. Give them, give them, give them, until the child is swimming in stuffing and fake fur.

Among the stuffed toys was this green monster. I'd forgotten all about him, and I was actually startled when I saw him in the box....

The games we play

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

I push my shopping cart past the personal care aisle, heading for vitamins. I hear two giddy teenagers chirping back and forth, and back and forth.

"Marco!"

I pass by the feminine hygiene boxes and round the corner just in time to see two young lovebirds reaching out to touch each others' hand.

"Polo!"

Gag.

They're probably looking for condoms, I think as I wheel on. I glance at my list: deodorant, frozen peas.

Onward.

We meet up again at the check-out. OK, so they're a little older than teenagers. But not by much. Probably early twenties. They bring two items to the checkout (yes, I couldn't help but look).

Pop-tarts and a pregnancy test.

I wonder what game they'll be playing next??

From the front line

Sure. Just when I'm ready to send you off to boarding school, you go and remind me how freaking adorable and precious you are.

Alright, so maybe not boarding school... but I may have glanced at the calendar today (more than once) to see how many weeks left til you start preschool.

We had a rough day today. Even before leaving the house for the children's museum, which you really wanted to visit, you had decided to be difficult. Didn't want to sit on the toilet. Didn't want to get dressed. I was ready to leave without you! When you wouldn't cooperate and behave at the museum, I told you we'd leave. So we did. I carried your screaming, thrashing body to the car, where we sweat it out in the sweltering humidity til you settled down enough to get into your car seat. You just wanted to go back to the museum.

Oh well. There's always next time.

I think we're having a power struggle, you and I. We're figuring out how to work things, the two of us. Daddy isn't around as much now that he's busy with his new job. We'll figure it out. It's an adjustment for all of us. You're testing me out, and I just need to lay down the law.

After you refused to nap, I eventually brought you downstairs where we had a few more battles. After you cooled off with a time-out, an amazing thing happened.

You wandered into the kitchen where I was working and found the toy train we bought you on vacation. It was broken. I accidentally dropped it the other day, and it broke. Cheapo-made-in-China-piece-of-crap toy. I didn't have the heart to tell you I had broken it. But you found it under a pile of stuff on the table. I'd meant to ask your father to try and fix it.

You weren't the least bit upset when you saw that your brand new train was broken. You asked if we could get another one, but when I said that we couldn't, since it came from a far-away store, you weren't phased one bit. There were no tears. You just rolled with it. You played with the carcass of the train and its pieces and parts for a long time. With all of your usual focus and intensity, you made the pieces talk to each other.

"Hey cow catcher! Let's get some wheels!"

"OK! I'm going to paint you!"

"Alright! Let's go!!"

I worked at the sink while you played, and I watched you in complete awe. If it had been a young me whose brand-new toy was broken, I'm sure I'd have thrown a fit. No doubt there would have been tears. But you just went with it. You improvised and made the best of the situation.

Sometimes you are the most easy-going and imaginative kid. I never tire of watching you and listening to you play. You're smart as a whip, creative, strong-willed and incredibly sensitive. You remind me so much of your Daddy. And I know you're going to grow into an amazing man, just like him.

Even when you pitch a fit and I pull my hair out, I would still walk across hot coals for you in an instant. Who else would sit down with me and watch a bad movie at the end of a rough day, just to bop to its music?

You always remind me that tomorrow's a new day.

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This new day is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays.
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)

You can't always get what you want

We're not big drinkers at our house. A 6-pack of beer usually lasts us months. In fact, sometimes months pass and we go for a beer, only to find that our stash has gone bad. We don't have that problem with wine, since we drink it within a couple of days of opening a bottle. But beer? It sits around here.

So when I packed the cooler for vacation, I thought a nice bottle of Finger Lakes wine and a couple of brews would last us the trip. But then, I'd never traveled hundreds of miles with my 3-year-old strapped into his car seat, inches behind me.

( I make it sound like he was terrible. He was actually very good. But he's THREE. And 3 is exhausting on a regular day. )

When we arrived at our Philly-area hotel the first night, I think all my husband and I did was inhale once each, and the beer was gone. Just like that. Poof! Our entire beer supply of two bottles was gone. Who knew an adult beverage could hit the spot like that? Well, I did, but I really did that night.

The next day we traveled over to the Lancaster area, where we had fun til dinner time, when the not-fun began. You see some little kids sitting with their crayons and kiddie menus, coloring and having a grand time while waiting for the food. My son isn't one of those kids. He doesn't really get into coloring. He'd rather climb. And crawl. And leave the table. Eating out with a boy who no longer does high chairs, and who doesn't color, is, well, a little stressful. (Damn, I miss those days of containment parenting!) Fortunately, the restaurant served nice tall cold beers. Ahhhhh. Adult beverage to the rescue.

Foreseeing a trend, we thought we'd better replenish our cooler stock -- clearly this was a beer vacation, not a wine one -- so, my husband headed out to pick up a 6-pack at a convenience store after dinner. Little did we know that in Pennsylvania it ain't that easy. You can't just go to a store and buy beer. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Of course those of you in PA already knew that...  My husband came back to the motel empty-handed after the clerk at Turkey Hill told him to buy beer at a bar!

So after traveling south to Virginia, where they sell beer AND wine in the grocery stores (woot!), we returned north through PA, hip to the brewski situation. And that's when we found this awesome place, where they brew and bottle their own beer. And we left with a very large bottle to take home.

Thing is, beer hasn't appealed to me in the slightest since we've been home! And now we have a massive bottle in our fridge, probably on its way to going bad. Time to invite the neighbors over!

And next time I travel with my son, like the Girl Scouts, I will BE PREPARED!!