Seinfeld

Today is a post about....nothing. I guess that since it's been about a week since I've put anything up, I should add something new. And if there happened to be anything significant to tell you, I would share - trust me. As is, I feel like I am just blathering. Ah, if only I had George here to make something of nothing...

The Block Family Is Explanding!

You know what that means, don't you? Yes, we are adding to our household. Of course, it's a little bit of a surprise, but Ryan is thrilled, the girls seem excited, and I really am okay with it all. But then, looking at this face, how could I not be!

What Would You Say?

You know, I'm really not that bad of a guy, but I have plenty of days when I just can't seem to fire on all cylinders. Actually, that's most days. I can be a skoshi demanding and don't always express myself in the most artful manner. I know Allison loves me because she's put up with me for almost twelve years now. But, unfortunately for Allison, that means she has to put up with a lot.

Those of you who know me could probably come up with a few words to describe me, remembering off days are really the norm. Here's my crack at a list:

• irascible
• peevish
• petulant
• grumpy
• cranky
• moody
  
• unstable (perhaps)
• [Insert (in)appropriate three-to-four letter words and derivative combinations here]

But this post really isn't supposed to be about me.

I really want to express to Allison how incredible I really think she is. I'm not sure how to do that, because my words are hard enough for her to take sometimes. And then, when you throw in the idea that actions speak louder than words, well, I don't always end up with a Happygram at the end of the day.

So, I'll get working harder on my end, but I'd like to open this up to you, our vast throng of readers, (which apparently has increased considerably concomitant with Allison's Facebook addiction), but I digress - I'd like to open up the comments of this post for everyone to offer up one or many qualities you admire about Allison or a happy experience with Allison, recent or long ago.

I'll be giving this some additional thought myself and will comment or post a follow-up later on.

SimpleThreads

I went visiting teaching yesterday. For those of you who may not be familiar with that term, I'll explain: in our church, we have have several auxiliary organizations, and within the one for women (the Relief Society, which happens to be the largest women's auxiliary in the world) we have a program called visiting teaching. In this, women are paired up and assigned usually 3 or 4 other women to visit or keep in touch with. Yes, we are rather randomly tagged, and these assignments change (sometimes completely - new partner, new list - sometimes gradually- maybe just a new partner, or maybe one new person on my list) generally over the period of a year or so.

I like this - the visiting teaching program, being welcomed into other women's homes, inviting them into mine - because otherwise, I might simply cross paths with these women and exchange nothing more than a nod or a smile. Instead, my life is enriched by friends who share with me a rainbow of life experiences. The juxtaposition of relationships forged through visiting teaching is what one makes of it, and I hope to make each interaction with each unique woman count for something.

The weaving of a tapestry seems to be the analogy of choice used to describe how visiting teaching can strengthen those of us who participate in it. I am a single strand. Alone, I am strong and vibrant and useful - indispensable - for many things. But woven in a tapestry with other threads of different colors and thicknesses and textures, I become a part of something I cannot be on my own. My strength is multiplied, and where I am weak or faded, I am bolstered by the continuous fibres that are my friends. I am a part of something that is beautiful and strong and enduring.

And that is wonderful.

Accidentally Proud

I've never really had much to say about Martin Luther King Jr. aside from a paper I wrote in 10th grade. I also can't say I voted for Barack Obama (though I did see his motorcade in Chicago a few weeks back). But I still can't help but feel a little proud of the 1-2 punch this year of MLK Jr. Day to be followed up the next day by Obama's inauguration.

I know, complicated issues in play here. Plenty more can be said and trust me, I'll be the first to complain when my promised government cow arrives late in the mail. But for today and tomorrow, I really am proud. I didn't mean to be. I just am.

Click the photo above for an interesting snippet of a 1964 BBC interview with MLK Jr.

Imagination Station

I am listening to Annie play. Her imagination has just bloomed over the past year or so. She often plays with her "kids" or "preschool friends" (all imaginary, of course. I am wondering when her preschool friends will morph into kindergartners.)

Anyway, I just heard Annie exclaim to her friends, "Uh-oh. I hear a police-car coming to get my dad!" She ran over to the "house" and found her dad. (Don't worry, he's not Ryan - okay, that can be taken the wrong way. Let's just say I can't actually see this dad.) "Dad! Dad! Why did you just tease me when I was talking to you? Gotta go! Bye!" I'm not sure if Dad got hauled away or not, because suddenly Annie was at school chatting with her vice-principal (those two are very chummy!) and and planning Annie's move to....Mars? Alaska? 3 blocks away?

This type of play and the conversations that go with it can go on indefinitely. So I will be chuckling all day, except for when I have to admonish Annie, who will in turn tell me that it's not her, but one of her kids, saying "dammit!" and "shut-up" and then I will have to send both of them to Annie's room (after I put my head in my hands and close my eyes for a moment's reprieve. I know where Annie learned dammit *sigh* and I think I can thank the non-imaginary friends - and adored older sister - for words like shut-up and stupid and dummy. Can I just say that as fun as it is, parenting can be hard work, (over-) exposing us - as parents - to our many shortcomings and frailties?)

I will, not for the first time (and certainly not for the last time, either), explain to Annie that she is the one in charge of the things her kids say. She will insist that she is not. I will insist that she is, and that little conversation will continue until one of us (me, most likely) shakes her head in frustration and gives up. And then Annie will go back to her happy la-la-land and continue her day of play. And I will be thankful that despite the, um, inappropriate vocabulary choices and little squabbles that pop up, we are having good times.

Say That Again?

Annie has picked up a little Spanish (from school?). Well, one word. But she uses it ALOT. Agua. I can picture it now: little kindergartners panting beside the drinking fountain, "Must...have...agua!" Okay, I have no idea how Annie learned this word, but learn it she did! Needless to say, Annie is quite proud of herself and today, after she once again pronounced "agua" (in no particular context - she simply said the word) she declared, "I can speak Chinese now!"

Mystery of the Sparking Broccoli

I learned something interesting the other day: broccoli sparks. Well, I actually discovered this several weeks ago, but I figured I must have somehow gotten microscopic flecks of metal into the plastic bowl along with some frozen broccoli.

This past week, I decided to nuke some broccoli and voila! Loud noises and sparks danced inside my microwave. My NEW microwave! Thinking that since this had happened before and there might be something wrong with my shiny toy, I decided I'd better confer immediately with my good friend, the Internet. Guess what my confidant told me? There were quite a few threads, including a news story, and they all seemed to reach the same conclusion:

• Dense vegetables can have higher amounts of minerals than some other foods and those minerals can act as arcs and cause sparks in the microwave.
• Sometimes, vegetables grown in very mineral-rich soil have high enough amounts of those minerals to cause sparking.
  
• Foods with a high saltwater content may also be conducive to sparks

Fortunately, no fires have been reported due to this phenomenon. But it is suggested you stop cooking the offending food in the microwave and use a different method instead. But I have to wonder why this has never happened to me before? To perform a little test, I actually put my broccoli last night in the old microwave, which happened to still be on the kitchen floor (if you've seen my kitchen, you know better than to ask) and nothing alarming happened. But I remember that my broccoli always had little blackened spots on after I'd heat it up in that microwave. My guess is that my new microwave is just more powerful than any I've had in the past. Yeah, that's me. The powerful microwave girl....I've just got to watch out for sparking veggies.!

A Nice Brainwash!

I just get a kick when I am listening to some of my favorite 80's music and Emi starts singing along. Do you know what this means? Brainwashing works!

I Am....

I guess Cryptic Jennifer decided I need to update my blog a little more regularly. Or maybe she just sensed that my creative blogging brain is not so demiurgic these days. You know how tagging goes, so while you are musing over my thoughtful answers, you might want to consider what you are, because you may be "it" next.

I am: lively, tired, happy, sad, funny, silly, cheerful, cranky, right, wrong, hungry, full, brave, scared, certain, questioning, prepared, vulnerable, capable, raw, faithful, fickle, scrupulous, petty.... many things that I hope make me real.
I think: people are inherently good.
I know: that I don't know everything, but I hope I know enough.
I want: my daughters to love the life that is theirs to forge.
I dislike: too many miles separating me from friends and family.
I miss: winding trails that climb upwards, cool breezes on summer evenings and, on occasion, a real snowstorm.
I fear: what can hurt me.
I feel: blithe
I hear: a rooster at various times of the day. Even in winter.
I smell: incense and if I close my eyes, I can be at almost any shrine in Japan.
I cry: inside, and sometimes with real tears, when I see my girls trying not to (and sometimes with them when they do.)
I usually: bake something chocolatey, gooey and rich when I feel mounting disquietude.
I search: my cupboards for chocolate when I am happy, when I am sad, when I am stressed, when I am bored.....
I wonder: if I would actually want all the things I do, if I could, in fact, have them.
I regret: allowing friendships to float away, instead of casting a line.
I love: a boy from Kansas, a little girl from Utah, and an alien from....?.
I care: about how the world outside my door will affect the world I am creating inside the walls that mark my home.
I always: check the garage door (the one to the driveway, not the one to the house) to make sure it is closed before I go to bed.
I worry: about Annie understanding that she is different and thinking that because she is incommensurable, she's somehow not "right."
I am not: the girl I used to be. I hope I am more.
I remember: things I would rather forget. Ad I forget things I want to remember.
I believe: I can fly....I believe I can touch the sky....I think about it every night and day....(That's for you, Emi!)
I dance: with Danny Kaye - that's when the best things happen, don't you know....
I sing: as if I am Rosemary Clooney.
I don't always: say the right thing. And sometimes that bothers me. But sometimes, it doesn't.
I argue: when I think it's better to say my piece than bite my tongue any longer.
I write: what I really feel.
I win: watermelon-eating contests, at least in my house!
I lose: my determination to maintain an orderly house pretty quickly, I'm afraid.
I wish: Angie had become Miss America - I really wanted to watch Trisha jump up on stage so those two could perform Irving Berlin's "Sisters" song and dance number. (And that is a complete post in itself.)
I listen: with one ear, but not always two.
I don't understand: how some things that happen could possibly be good for me, yet I know they are.
I can usually be found: curled up with a good book.
I am afraid: that I neglect to appreciate what I have and how my blessings affect who I am.
I need: Chocolate. Smooth, dark, decadent chocolate. Every day.
I forget: many things - names, where my glasses are, that I've already told Ryan the same story 2 times....
I am happy: being me.

And so I am.Now, I tag Adrienne, Ryan and Julie. (Yes, you, Julie Bassett.) And one more (even though I don't have to) - Trish, if you decide to get your blog rolling again.

She Must Like Me!

The tooth fairy visited Annie for the first time ever about a week-and-a-half ago! It was terribly exciting, as Annie (and the rest of us) have been waiting patiently (and then not-so-patiently) since last February for at least one of her wiggly bottom teeth to fall out.

Annie turned into a little shark when her two bottom adult teeth erupted over a year ago. At about that time, our family dentist said, "Don't worry, the two bottom baby teeth will fall out and then her new teeth (which are rather out of line with the rest of her bottom teeth) will be pushed forward by her tongue. But why don't you go to the dental clinic at Children's Mercy Hospital just to see what they say."

Last February, the resident dentist at Children's Mercy took x-rays and said, "Oh yes, the roots of her two bottom baby teeth are starting to disintegrate. They should fall out in a few months. But come back in August if they are still there and we'll pull them out."

Fast-forward to May: at Annie's next semi-annual check-up, our dentist felt confident we wouldn't be seeing the pediatric dentist again in August. Throughout the summer, Annie's two bottom teeth were getting looser and looser. By the time August rolled around , I figured it was probably just a matter of weeks before at least one of those little pearls found its way out of Annie's mouth.

We bid summer farewell with those two stubborn little teeth still intact! I figured we were close enough to Annie's next regular dental appointment, and those teeth would surely be out by then anyway, so I decided not to call the pediatric dental clinic. At the end of November, we again visited our family dentist. She peered into Annie's mouth and said, "Let me give you the name of a pediatric periodontist." Being the wonderful dentist that she is, Dr. Hung actually called her colleague and discussed Annie's stubborn teeth and they decided Dr. Hung should just go ahead and grab a pair of pliers and YANK!

Okay, it didn't really happen quite like that. We scheduled another appointment for Annie (at the end of December) and she got numbed up and had a great big needle poke her lower gum (um, that was fun. Not!) and then the pliers came out and Dr. Hung went YANK!!!


But here's the good part: Lots of teeth for the Tooth Fairy mean lots of money, right? When Annie (after a little cajoling) decided to see if the Tooth Fairy had stopped by, she was thrilled with all the jingly gold coins clinking against each other in the little organza pouch left behind by the beneficent fairy. In fact, Annie jangled her money and exclaimed about the Tooth Fairy, "She must like me!"

May 13, 2008

I kind of consider 2008 a lost year for me personally, but thinking back, we had some really good times. For example, the evening of May 13, 2008 was a great night for Allison and me.

So the audio and video suck, but it's all still there in my memory.

Pencil + Paper = Culinary Flair

Emi, being the amazingly creative child that she is, has built, brick-by-brick, the coolest Lego house ever! It is much more imaginative and professional looking than anything I, as a child (or even as an adult, for that matter), ever constructed with those colorful, interlocking blocks.

Grandma Block happened to be over today (to watch Annie, who was home being sick, while I ran Emi to school.) While Annie dozed off on the floor, Grandma and I discussed Emi's many projects - from her writing and drawing to today's building skills, and how much Emi enjoys art in any form. We glanced over several of her stories and illustrations and talked about other media Emi dabbles in. Grandma commented on Emi's Lego house, "I think that girl, with all her talent, would be a good architect!"

Apparently Annie wasn't asleep anymore (and apparently she wishes Emi's art was edible) because she objected to Grandma's statement by telling us, "I think Emi would be a good cook."