PractiGal

Getting the lead out

... or how to give your parents simultaneous heart attacks...

------------------------------------------------------------

We've been working day and night to get our rental property ready for its "lead swipe test." It's a relatively new mandate in these parts, whereby city property that's not owner-occupied must go through a white glove test. Or at least a lead-dust detecting test. The coveted Certificate of Occupancy is dangled at the end of this test, so of course you must pass it.

Naturally, people choose to live in cool old city houses (that are filled with lead paint) for their charm (bathed in lead paint) and woodwork (covered in lead paint), and the convenience to amenities (other old buildings also covered with lead paint). But if you're an off-site landlord, your property is subject to The Test. Interestingly, the city couldn't care less if you have lead dust in your owner-occupied property. Guess you're SOL there.

Anyway. Our rental property is pre-1900, so of course there's lead paint in it. We've been preparing for the swipe test by scraping loose paint and painting windows, and cleaning, cleaning, and cleaning some more. For the past couple of weeks, I've been doing the easy work of painting and cleaning, and my husband's been doing the hard work of scraping paint and installing hard-wired smoke and carbon monoxide detectors in two apartments. All of this toward the renewal of the C of O. Mostly we go there one at a time and take a shift at doing what must be done. But on weekends, we all go. Parents and preschooler. For the most part, it's worked out well. Amazing how long a little person can last with a shoebox full of toys and a cassette tape of Wiggles music.

I thought I did a good job covering the danger zones when we arrived for our first working session as a family.

"Stay away from Dad's tools. I know they're cool-looking. You can look -- just don't touch. Okay?"

"It's a great ladder, isn't it? Please play over here though. I don't want you getting hurt..."

"You can play with this paintbrush. Only Mom & Dad are allowed to touch the paint..."

"The cellar stairs are very steep and dangerous. I don't want you to go near them without holding Daddy's hand..."

Seemed like all was going well. The Wiggles played over and over, and there was plenty of  floor space for running in circles. What could be better (for him!)?

I took a break from my shop-vac-holding duty to discover the one thing I forgot to mention.

Apparently when you're almost 4, the allure of condensation on a storm window is more than one can bare. You must smell it. Touch it. Taste it. I entered the room where my son was entertaining himself to find his tongue hanging out of his smiling little mouth while he stood next to an obviously just-licked-like-crazy window.

You have never seen two parents rush to rinse their child's mouth so quickly.

So now, we add "Don't lick the windows" to the list of rules.

Whodathunkit?

------------------------------------------------------------

***footnote: after much fretting and panic and visualizing our son's IQ dropping before our eyes, we realized that the window he'd licked had been thoroughly cleaned, post-lead-paint-scraping. Thank. God. Cuz yeah. There would have been lead dust all over that sucker.

A gift with strings attached - what would you do?

What would you do if your child or children were offered a substantial sum of money -- with strings attached?

Yesterday, while my son fell asleep on my leg, I thumbed through Money magazine, and read the section from their money ethics advisers. They present real scenarios and questions from readers and then respond from an ethical standpoint.

One scenario in particular caught my eye. The writer states that his father died, leaving $2 million in trust for his two children's four grandchildren. The trust stipulates that each child receive a quarter of the trust at age 25, provided the child earned a college degree and never attended a private school or college.

The writer continues that his oldest child has a good shot at being admitted to an Ivy League school, and at least a couple of the other children have that potential, too.

The deceased's two adult children are the trustees and would like to give their children the money at age 25, regardless of where they go to college. So, they ask Money's ethics advisers what they think.

My head spun with this question. Obviously the man had a thing for public institutions and wanted to reward his grandchildren for attending them. But what if they got great scholarships to private schools? By accepting them, they'd be out their inheritance. Of course there's no arguing with the man - it's his money and he can do with it what he wants (plus, he's dead!). I'm a fan of public colleges myself -- I'm a product of two of them. But if my parents hadn't told me to choose "any state school I wanted," maybe I'd have looked around a little. There was no half a million waiting for me at 25, either way!

What would you do in this situation? (I'll share the Money ethics advisers' response after I hear from y'all, if you're interested...)

Little boy joys

After returning from a trip to the children's museum with our friends, I paused, realizing it had been a 100% outburst-free outing. Complete cooperation. Some dawdling, yes, of course. He's a child and not even 4 yet. But there were no tantrums and no tears (from either of us!), and we were out for about 4 hours.

Once at home, I took my little boy's hands and said "Thank you for being such a good boy at the museum today!"

He smiled, and responded quickly, "Thanks for being such a good mommy at the museum too!"

"What did I do that made me a good mommy at the museum?"

He looked at me matter-of-factly. "You stuck with me!"

Hmm.

How many years til he tries to lose me at the museum?

I think I'll savor this while I can...

Even though last night he told me I wouldn't get a treat if I didn't find Mr. Potato Head's missing ear!

------------------------------------------------

Moments after this exchange with my son, I read this piece by Antique Mommy. If you don't know her, she's Mom to a 4-year-old boy, too. I so often relate to what she writes, which is always expressed so beautifully. Go. Read. Bring tissues!

Rescue followup

Thank you all for the advice on updating my bluejean self. Thank you, thank you!

I stopped at Old Navy yesterday and tried on these. Compared to some of the other styles, they seemed pretty conservative. But let's just say, they don't work on me. At all!  I will continue my search.

And at the risk of going all TMI here, I will add that I'll probably need some new underwear to go with my new jeans. Apparently I have Mom underwear too! (VS Mom underwear, but Mom underwear nonetheless!)

Also, I have some store credit here, so I'm considering this pair. Not tapered.... below the waist. Non-Mom, right?

Oh, and one more poll...  what's the greater offense -- Mom jeans or muffin top? (or in my case, jello-top)

Maybe I'll just bag the whole jean thing, and start a new trend.

Fashionitas to the rescue, please?

Since before the holidays, I've been on a purging frenzy. Purses I'll never use again have gone to Goodwill. Books and videos have been donated to the library. Piles of little boy clothes have been passed on or donated. Piles and piles and piles of my own clothes are gone too. Either they don't fit or they're so outdated I decided to move them on.

Which leads me to my current predicament. I have close to nothing to wear. What I do have is not the least bit stylish, and apparently the jeans I wear are "Mom jeans." Yeah, I'm in the 40-plus crowd and fit the bill. But I guess it would be nice to have one pair of pants that are a touch more stylish and flattering.

So. All you hip non-Mom-jeans people... where do you shop? What do you look for? I'm not looking for a whole new wardrobe. I'm usually at home! I'd just like an outfit that's not quite so frumpy for my 42-year-old self...

Time flies!

Three years ago today I set up shop here....  and many of you who visited then still come around! Thank you!

And happy bloggiversary to my humble little blog...

Won't you join me for some cake and bubbly? Or a cup of tea?