6.26.2010
Ingredients for Kent's art party
Fabric crayons for drawings that iron onto tote bags:
Homemade playdough and an assortment of cookie cutters, rollers, and found objects:
Handpainted thank-you notes, containing recipe for playdough:
Mocha cupcakes, with sprinkles and crazy glitter icing:
"Happy Birthday to You" and a "3" candle:
Sidewalk chalk, even though it's dang hot:
Party food, including the birthday boy's favorite chicken nuggets and pretzels
A post-party rest (this was *after* his post-party nap, by the way):
And a friend without young kids to help out... this may be the most important ingredient of all! Thanks, Linda!
I'm blogging the party because I'm avoiding clean-up. The house isn't nearly as messy as I had thought it might be, but I definitely don't have the mental energy to tackle the playdough table yet. It was a major success, though. And I daresay Kent had an awesome time with his friends. I really loved planning this party and helping him celebrate.
I think I might need a beer to celebrate the facts that he's nearly 3 (next week), I'm still alive, and I'm not a crazy person. Yet.
(a thousand thanks to Amanda and Jean for the inspiration)
Homemade playdough and an assortment of cookie cutters, rollers, and found objects:
Handpainted thank-you notes, containing recipe for playdough:
Mocha cupcakes, with sprinkles and crazy glitter icing:
"Happy Birthday to You" and a "3" candle:
Sidewalk chalk, even though it's dang hot:
Party food, including the birthday boy's favorite chicken nuggets and pretzels
A post-party rest (this was *after* his post-party nap, by the way):
And a friend without young kids to help out... this may be the most important ingredient of all! Thanks, Linda!
I'm blogging the party because I'm avoiding clean-up. The house isn't nearly as messy as I had thought it might be, but I definitely don't have the mental energy to tackle the playdough table yet. It was a major success, though. And I daresay Kent had an awesome time with his friends. I really loved planning this party and helping him celebrate.
I think I might need a beer to celebrate the facts that he's nearly 3 (next week), I'm still alive, and I'm not a crazy person. Yet.
(a thousand thanks to Amanda and Jean for the inspiration)
Labels: art, getting older, Kent, photography
- posted by erica 6/26/2010 03:22:00 PM
- 4 comments
4.30.2010
The Final Approach
I’m a day away from 30. And I’ve never felt better. I’m embracing it, looking forward with nothing but excitement and optimism.
In my 20s, I got a first-class education. I found a husband. I created life. I learned how to keep dear old friends and make new ones, how to sustain loving relationships with family members from halfway across the country. I learned how to apologize, really apologize. I learned to let things go. I took writing classes. I started a blog. In my 20s, I learned to cook for my family, everything from bread to baby food. I learned to grow my own food in a garden. I learned to zest a lemon and roast a chicken. I learned to knit, got better at sewing, developed my artistic eye. I learned to take pictures. I learned to drink coffee. I bought a car. I bought a house. I started an IRA.
In my 20s, I lost a father, and then a stepfather. I watched my own mother become a widow, and then I stood next to her at her wedding. I learned about grief, and then recovery. Then I experienced the sheer joy of seeing my father in the eyes of my son.
In my 20s, I lived in France for a month. I bought my own train tickets and my own gelato. I learned German. I learned a tiny bit of Italian, a few words in Latin (nevermind that most of it was Medieval Latin). I started to learn the Russian alphabet.
In my 20s, I fell in love with music from the Renaissance. And music from the 20th century. I learned to read white mensural notation and shape notes, to play four parts on the piano from only figured bass. I carried keys to a classroom and a stereo cabinet. I taught solfege. I learned how to sing in front of a full classroom, and how to teach even when I think my students hate me.
In my 20s, I shopped at hardware stores, farmer’s markets, teacher supply shops, and used bookstores. I bought cloth diapers, cat litter, seed packets, and bridesmaid’s dresses. I bought alcohol. I ordered vanilla beans from the internet and bought yeast by the jar. I developed a true appreciation for going to the bookstore or even the grocery store without children.
In my 20s, I chose furniture. I chose a new place to live. I chose paint colors. I chose names for my children. I chose a church and a playgroup. I chose a dissertation topic. And then I chose to abandon an academic life to walk a lovelier path instead.
In my 20s, I read the directions on pregnancy tests, made prenatal appointments, listened to the heartbeat of a tiny creature growing inside me. I rocked childbirth. Twice. I learned to breastfeed, then figured out how to share the gift of my milk with others. I felt the bittersweet celebration of weaning, then rejoiced when I got to start another nursing relationship all over again. I learned how to travel with a baby, and how to paint with a toddler. I taught a child the alphabet and watched him learn to walk. I learned all of the words to Goodnight, Moon. I heard a little voice learn to say, “I love you,” for the first time.
In my 20s, I became a wife, and then a mom. I became truly grateful for my parents and grandparents. I became an adult.
So I’d say that’s about enough for one decade. I’m ready to see what comes next.
In my 20s, I got a first-class education. I found a husband. I created life. I learned how to keep dear old friends and make new ones, how to sustain loving relationships with family members from halfway across the country. I learned how to apologize, really apologize. I learned to let things go. I took writing classes. I started a blog. In my 20s, I learned to cook for my family, everything from bread to baby food. I learned to grow my own food in a garden. I learned to zest a lemon and roast a chicken. I learned to knit, got better at sewing, developed my artistic eye. I learned to take pictures. I learned to drink coffee. I bought a car. I bought a house. I started an IRA.
In my 20s, I lost a father, and then a stepfather. I watched my own mother become a widow, and then I stood next to her at her wedding. I learned about grief, and then recovery. Then I experienced the sheer joy of seeing my father in the eyes of my son.
In my 20s, I lived in France for a month. I bought my own train tickets and my own gelato. I learned German. I learned a tiny bit of Italian, a few words in Latin (nevermind that most of it was Medieval Latin). I started to learn the Russian alphabet.
In my 20s, I fell in love with music from the Renaissance. And music from the 20th century. I learned to read white mensural notation and shape notes, to play four parts on the piano from only figured bass. I carried keys to a classroom and a stereo cabinet. I taught solfege. I learned how to sing in front of a full classroom, and how to teach even when I think my students hate me.
In my 20s, I shopped at hardware stores, farmer’s markets, teacher supply shops, and used bookstores. I bought cloth diapers, cat litter, seed packets, and bridesmaid’s dresses. I bought alcohol. I ordered vanilla beans from the internet and bought yeast by the jar. I developed a true appreciation for going to the bookstore or even the grocery store without children.
In my 20s, I chose furniture. I chose a new place to live. I chose paint colors. I chose names for my children. I chose a church and a playgroup. I chose a dissertation topic. And then I chose to abandon an academic life to walk a lovelier path instead.
In my 20s, I read the directions on pregnancy tests, made prenatal appointments, listened to the heartbeat of a tiny creature growing inside me. I rocked childbirth. Twice. I learned to breastfeed, then figured out how to share the gift of my milk with others. I felt the bittersweet celebration of weaning, then rejoiced when I got to start another nursing relationship all over again. I learned how to travel with a baby, and how to paint with a toddler. I taught a child the alphabet and watched him learn to walk. I learned all of the words to Goodnight, Moon. I heard a little voice learn to say, “I love you,” for the first time.
In my 20s, I became a wife, and then a mom. I became truly grateful for my parents and grandparents. I became an adult.
So I’d say that’s about enough for one decade. I’m ready to see what comes next.
Labels: Freude, getting older, observations, SAHM
- posted by erica 4/30/2010 04:56:00 PM
- 13 comments
7.04.2009
Kent makes 2
People in Louisiana say that someone "makes" a certain age rather than "turning" it, as in, "He just made 2 last week," and it always sounds funny to me, like it was some big accomplishment that the child got to another year in one piece.
Anyway, my boy is 2. Wow. He's practically a grown-up.
The birthday yesterday was great fun. We rushed around in the morning, making wraps and a last-minute run to the grocery store for ice and other essentials, and we got to the sprayground a little before 10 to set everything up. Friends trickled in over the next half hour, and we had a small but very nice little group to help celebrate. It's really too hot to have an outdoor party in July, even though we were in the shade, so we'll have to hold off on doing that anymore until we move to a cooler region. Someone mentioned to me yesterday that having a February baby seemed like a great plan to contrast our summer boy.
We had a book swap for all the kids so that everyone got to leave with a new book, and the kids all enjoyed playing in the water, eating the Nemo cake, and investigating their treat bags. Our camera forgot to come with us, so I'll have to get photos from friends to fill you in on the visual aspect of the party. Much food was consumed and celebrating done, but heat and naptimes forced us all to leave by about 12:30.
Kent and I both took a long nap when we got home — the sprayground is very skilled at making him tired enough to sleep 2+ hours, so that was nice. When he finally woke up a little after 3, he and Jack got father/son birthday haircuts (Kent is SO calm during the haircut process, which always makes me feel very lucky), and then we came back home to give him a few presents, including some from friends and family. We've been spacing out his presents from us over the last several days, and he'll have more arriving in the mail soon, so he gets a nice long, extended birthday celebration with a new toy/activity each day instead of a flood of new presents. We learned this past Christmas that he's really not impressed by opening a bunch of stuff all at once; one toy at a time is plenty for him, which is reassuring and lots of fun for us, too.
After presents, we went to Izzo's (a local burrito place like Qdoba and Chipotle) for dinner, one of my favorite joints that has food we all really enjoy, and Kent got phone calls from many people who wanted to sing to him and/or otherwise wish him a Happy Birthday. He loves helping to sing Happy Birthday to other people, supplying the "you" at the end of each line of the song, so he got a big kick out of hearing it directed toward him. Actually, when I sang it to him in the morning, he told me afterward that he wanted to sing it to me next, so I tried to explain that it was only his birthday, not mine. Sweet, no?
Kent played with some of his new stuff for a little while longer after we got home, and then we put our loving, funny boy to sleep and bid his birthday adieu. Jack and I were both in bed by 9:30, a true rarity these days. Generally what has been happening since I've started feeling rotten is that I go to bed by 9, and Jack stays up catching up on chores and wasting time on the internet until 10:30 or 11 since I'm not around to make him go to bed, though he always regrets it in the morning. I insisted that he get some sleep last night, even though there were many dishes in the kitchen and other stuff he could have been doing. He's a real superdad these days, picking up all the slack I'm leaving all over the house. I'm already coming up with ways to make it up to him once I start feeling better (in addition to the fact that he, like me, gets a baby at the end of it).
I'm amazed that Kent is 2, and yet it's also completely expected and normal. We were having a little talk the evening before his birthday, him sitting naked in my lap before his bath, about the day he was born and how exciting it all was. I told him he was all wet and wrinkly, but he was beautiful and had a wonderful nose and great eyelashes, in addition to just being an amazing gift to Jack and me.
This year has seen him walk, run, start to use real language and amuse us with all the strange things he says, make friends, develop an interest in Sesame Street and Finding Nemo and Hello Dolly and all his other favorites, learn new methods of destruction, learn to throw a ball, talk on the phone with his grandparents, share, take, whine, whisper, sing, rhyme, clap, march, tiptoe, water plants, drink from a big boy cup, use utensils, "help" in the kitchen, memorize books, kiss, hug, and say "I love you." What else is there in life? Maybe math skills and social awareness, but that's about it. Oh, and the potty thing.
There will undoubtedly be more mysteries for us to uncover each year as our little boy makes his way in the world. He's off to a fantastic start, this two-year-old of mine.
Anyway, my boy is 2. Wow. He's practically a grown-up.
The birthday yesterday was great fun. We rushed around in the morning, making wraps and a last-minute run to the grocery store for ice and other essentials, and we got to the sprayground a little before 10 to set everything up. Friends trickled in over the next half hour, and we had a small but very nice little group to help celebrate. It's really too hot to have an outdoor party in July, even though we were in the shade, so we'll have to hold off on doing that anymore until we move to a cooler region. Someone mentioned to me yesterday that having a February baby seemed like a great plan to contrast our summer boy.
We had a book swap for all the kids so that everyone got to leave with a new book, and the kids all enjoyed playing in the water, eating the Nemo cake, and investigating their treat bags. Our camera forgot to come with us, so I'll have to get photos from friends to fill you in on the visual aspect of the party. Much food was consumed and celebrating done, but heat and naptimes forced us all to leave by about 12:30.
Kent and I both took a long nap when we got home — the sprayground is very skilled at making him tired enough to sleep 2+ hours, so that was nice. When he finally woke up a little after 3, he and Jack got father/son birthday haircuts (Kent is SO calm during the haircut process, which always makes me feel very lucky), and then we came back home to give him a few presents, including some from friends and family. We've been spacing out his presents from us over the last several days, and he'll have more arriving in the mail soon, so he gets a nice long, extended birthday celebration with a new toy/activity each day instead of a flood of new presents. We learned this past Christmas that he's really not impressed by opening a bunch of stuff all at once; one toy at a time is plenty for him, which is reassuring and lots of fun for us, too.
After presents, we went to Izzo's (a local burrito place like Qdoba and Chipotle) for dinner, one of my favorite joints that has food we all really enjoy, and Kent got phone calls from many people who wanted to sing to him and/or otherwise wish him a Happy Birthday. He loves helping to sing Happy Birthday to other people, supplying the "you" at the end of each line of the song, so he got a big kick out of hearing it directed toward him. Actually, when I sang it to him in the morning, he told me afterward that he wanted to sing it to me next, so I tried to explain that it was only his birthday, not mine. Sweet, no?
Kent played with some of his new stuff for a little while longer after we got home, and then we put our loving, funny boy to sleep and bid his birthday adieu. Jack and I were both in bed by 9:30, a true rarity these days. Generally what has been happening since I've started feeling rotten is that I go to bed by 9, and Jack stays up catching up on chores and wasting time on the internet until 10:30 or 11 since I'm not around to make him go to bed, though he always regrets it in the morning. I insisted that he get some sleep last night, even though there were many dishes in the kitchen and other stuff he could have been doing. He's a real superdad these days, picking up all the slack I'm leaving all over the house. I'm already coming up with ways to make it up to him once I start feeling better (in addition to the fact that he, like me, gets a baby at the end of it).
I'm amazed that Kent is 2, and yet it's also completely expected and normal. We were having a little talk the evening before his birthday, him sitting naked in my lap before his bath, about the day he was born and how exciting it all was. I told him he was all wet and wrinkly, but he was beautiful and had a wonderful nose and great eyelashes, in addition to just being an amazing gift to Jack and me.
This year has seen him walk, run, start to use real language and amuse us with all the strange things he says, make friends, develop an interest in Sesame Street and Finding Nemo and Hello Dolly and all his other favorites, learn new methods of destruction, learn to throw a ball, talk on the phone with his grandparents, share, take, whine, whisper, sing, rhyme, clap, march, tiptoe, water plants, drink from a big boy cup, use utensils, "help" in the kitchen, memorize books, kiss, hug, and say "I love you." What else is there in life? Maybe math skills and social awareness, but that's about it. Oh, and the potty thing.
There will undoubtedly be more mysteries for us to uncover each year as our little boy makes his way in the world. He's off to a fantastic start, this two-year-old of mine.
Labels: eating out, getting older, husband things, Kent
- posted by erica 7/04/2009 12:38:00 PM
- 1 comments
5.02.2009
29 (this year only)
On my birthday yesterday, I was...
Feeling sad at first, since I still had to do SAHM things like cleaning up poo on my birthday, until Kent and I had a little talk (mostly for me) and I decided we were going to have a fun rest of the day.
Smelling my new SJP Lovely perfume from Jack, and the lingering aroma of the chocolate pound cake he baked for me the night before.
Eating Waffle House waffles and bacon for breakfast with Jack and Kent; a Starbucks iced mocha, a banana and snacky foods for lunch; shrimp fajitas for dinner at our fave Mexican place; and aforementioned pound cake when we got home.
Feeling the sun on my shoulders and the water between my toes at the sprayground, where Kent and I went for some swimsuited fun in the fountains.
Relaxing during Kent's two-hour afternoon nap. Say it with me now: ahhhhhhhhh...
Checking Facebook and my email and getting tons of great birthday messages.
Rubbing aloe on Kent's and my sunburns. Sunscreen was apparently not waterproof.
Reading my new book of nifty sewing projects from my sister Morgan before bed and scheming.
Hearing fun phone messages and having wonderful conversations with family, including listening to Anilia's interesting birth story. I love birth stories.
Thanking God that I have a wonderful little family in my house who loves me more than anything.
Feeling sad at first, since I still had to do SAHM things like cleaning up poo on my birthday, until Kent and I had a little talk (mostly for me) and I decided we were going to have a fun rest of the day.
Smelling my new SJP Lovely perfume from Jack, and the lingering aroma of the chocolate pound cake he baked for me the night before.
Eating Waffle House waffles and bacon for breakfast with Jack and Kent; a Starbucks iced mocha, a banana and snacky foods for lunch; shrimp fajitas for dinner at our fave Mexican place; and aforementioned pound cake when we got home.
Feeling the sun on my shoulders and the water between my toes at the sprayground, where Kent and I went for some swimsuited fun in the fountains.
Relaxing during Kent's two-hour afternoon nap. Say it with me now: ahhhhhhhhh...
Checking Facebook and my email and getting tons of great birthday messages.
Rubbing aloe on Kent's and my sunburns. Sunscreen was apparently not waterproof.
Reading my new book of nifty sewing projects from my sister Morgan before bed and scheming.
Hearing fun phone messages and having wonderful conversations with family, including listening to Anilia's interesting birth story. I love birth stories.
Thanking God that I have a wonderful little family in my house who loves me more than anything.
Labels: getting older
- posted by erica 5/02/2009 03:51:00 PM
- 5 comments
4.18.2009
Shifting expectations
Since Anilia is about to have her baby and Kent is about to get another cousin, I've been pondering the ways that life changes for people who have kids. In the space of just a couple of days, a person goes from having relatively little responsibility and getting to sleep generally as much as s/he wants (at least on the weekends/holidays), to the exact opposite of that. No control over the sleep situation, and more responsibility than s/he could ever have imagined.
I was just thinking about how, before Kent, my Saturday mornings consisted of sleeping until 9 or 10, eating breakfast with Jack, and then drinking coffee and watching the Food Network for an hour or two while he mowed the yard and trimmed branches and did all of that other outside stuff he does. We'd laze around all day, occasionally running some errands but mostly watching TV and/or movies, folding a bit of laundry, and catching up on email and blogging. We didn't do much housework, because it didn't matter if our house was cluttered for a while, and then we'd go through a bout of cleaning once things got really desperate.
This morning, we were up at 6, totally typical for our house these days. We finished breakfast by 7:30, and I've already done a load of laundry and started the dishwasher. Now I'm trying to decide whether we should get dressed and head to the farmers market when it opens at 8, or wait a little while and fold laundry first. I'm still drinking my coffee (Hallelujah!), but there will be no sitting in front of the TV all day or being "leisurely," at least not in the pre-Kent sense of the word.
Yet, our days are filled with more laughter, smiles, fun challenges, silly songs, enlightening teachable moments, and snuggles than ever before. No matter how tired I feel, I'd never go back to how things used to be. And hey, our house is cleaner than before we had a child. That's not something you hear every day.
I was just thinking about how, before Kent, my Saturday mornings consisted of sleeping until 9 or 10, eating breakfast with Jack, and then drinking coffee and watching the Food Network for an hour or two while he mowed the yard and trimmed branches and did all of that other outside stuff he does. We'd laze around all day, occasionally running some errands but mostly watching TV and/or movies, folding a bit of laundry, and catching up on email and blogging. We didn't do much housework, because it didn't matter if our house was cluttered for a while, and then we'd go through a bout of cleaning once things got really desperate.
This morning, we were up at 6, totally typical for our house these days. We finished breakfast by 7:30, and I've already done a load of laundry and started the dishwasher. Now I'm trying to decide whether we should get dressed and head to the farmers market when it opens at 8, or wait a little while and fold laundry first. I'm still drinking my coffee (Hallelujah!), but there will be no sitting in front of the TV all day or being "leisurely," at least not in the pre-Kent sense of the word.
Yet, our days are filled with more laughter, smiles, fun challenges, silly songs, enlightening teachable moments, and snuggles than ever before. No matter how tired I feel, I'd never go back to how things used to be. And hey, our house is cleaner than before we had a child. That's not something you hear every day.
Labels: coffee, family, getting older, Kent
- posted by erica 4/18/2009 08:38:00 AM
- 1 comments
3.29.2009
On moving on
I find it really exhausting to make trip posts after I've gotten home. There's so much involved in unpacking, getting back into the routine of daily living, and all that goes along with that, that it's difficult for me to find time to make the detailed posts I'd like to make about our travels and all the friends and family we've gotten to share time with. I made posts about the first few days of our Spring Tour '09, but the thought of sitting down and writing long posts about our time in Winston-Salem and West Virginia is weighing me down. Nearly three weeks after we've returned home seems a bit long to wait to write this stuff anyway. So I'm letting it go. I feel an obligation to blog these trips in great detail because so many of the people we visit read my blog, and I know it means a lot to you guys to get mentioned and see photos here. I just can't do it, and I hope that's okay. Heck, it's my blog, right? So yes, it's okay.
My life is mowing me down right now. Kent falls apart when I say the wrong word or put away something he said he was finished with, like his juice. Right now, he says no to everything I ask, whether or not he means it. And it's not a defiant, "No!!" like you'd imagine from a spirited toddler. It's just very matter-of-fact, the same way he *used* to say no when he really meant it. He hardly says yes anymore. I've gotten pretty good at inferring when he means no and when he doesn't, but it's tough when I make the wrong call and then he goes to pieces.
We're also in the process of weaning right now, which has me feeling all kinds of nutty/bad/indescribable feelings. I've felt for a couple of months like it was time for me to be done with it, even though I know Kent would nurse until he was 3 or 4 if I let him. I'm always the first to tell my fellow nursing moms that nursing is a two-way street, and both mother and child have to accept it and want to continue for the relationship to work.
Now that I'm facing this difficult situation, though, I'm kind of a mess. I feel anxious, sad, agitated around him but more agitated when I'm away from him, apprehensive about his sleep since he has a *very* strong nursing-to-sleep association... he's still nursing once or twice a day, because I don't know how to get him down for a nap otherwise and we had a pretty rough day when I tried to put him down without it, but Jack is handling putting him to bed now. Last night, I went out to dinner with my friends, and it was the first time I didn't nurse him after his bath and wasn't there to tell him goodnight. I haven't had much of an appetite for the last couple of days. And I just haven't felt at all like me.
I feel like depression is making its way into my soul, when I should be celebrating this milestone of his growing up. I should be celebrating that I'm getting my body back. But it turns out not to be that simple at all.
My life is mowing me down right now. Kent falls apart when I say the wrong word or put away something he said he was finished with, like his juice. Right now, he says no to everything I ask, whether or not he means it. And it's not a defiant, "No!!" like you'd imagine from a spirited toddler. It's just very matter-of-fact, the same way he *used* to say no when he really meant it. He hardly says yes anymore. I've gotten pretty good at inferring when he means no and when he doesn't, but it's tough when I make the wrong call and then he goes to pieces.
We're also in the process of weaning right now, which has me feeling all kinds of nutty/bad/indescribable feelings. I've felt for a couple of months like it was time for me to be done with it, even though I know Kent would nurse until he was 3 or 4 if I let him. I'm always the first to tell my fellow nursing moms that nursing is a two-way street, and both mother and child have to accept it and want to continue for the relationship to work.
Now that I'm facing this difficult situation, though, I'm kind of a mess. I feel anxious, sad, agitated around him but more agitated when I'm away from him, apprehensive about his sleep since he has a *very* strong nursing-to-sleep association... he's still nursing once or twice a day, because I don't know how to get him down for a nap otherwise and we had a pretty rough day when I tried to put him down without it, but Jack is handling putting him to bed now. Last night, I went out to dinner with my friends, and it was the first time I didn't nurse him after his bath and wasn't there to tell him goodnight. I haven't had much of an appetite for the last couple of days. And I just haven't felt at all like me.
I feel like depression is making its way into my soul, when I should be celebrating this milestone of his growing up. I should be celebrating that I'm getting my body back. But it turns out not to be that simple at all.
Labels: getting older, Kent, SAHM, travel
- posted by erica 3/29/2009 06:08:00 PM
- 2 comments
2.12.2009
Simple pleasures
I had no idea that I'd get so much pleasure from such a simple thing as teaching my son how to lick frosting off the beaters and the bowl. And he took to it like a duck to water. Happy Birthday, Jack!
(oh, and for the record, Jack picked Anilia's suggestion, the Valentine's Queen of Sheba cake from Sweet Napa — we're going to a yummy pizza place for dinner, then coming home for cake!)
Labels: getting older, husband things, Kent, kitchen adventures
- posted by erica 2/12/2009 05:37:00 PM
- 5 comments
2.09.2009
Jack's cake conundrum
Jack's birthday is on Thursday. He's turning 30. He's not afraid of getting older, but he has been making more jokes about his age lately, and he seems a tiny bit weirded out by reaching another decade.
I, of course, am doing what I can to ease his transition by baking him a cake and giving him the presents that Kent and I have picked out for him. The problem with the cake is that he won't decide what kind he wants. I made German chocolate cake a couple of years in a row, and that went over well, but he wasn't too excited when I suggested it this time. I made him an Irish Coffee cake (not for his birthday, but to celebrate his new job) a few years ago, and he LOVED it, but since it has whiskey in the sauce and the whipped cream, it's sort of out of the question for toddlers. I also mentioned the possibilities of carrot cake, plain frosted chocolate cake, and pound cake, or even going crazy and having pie or chocolate mousse and fruit or something else that isn't a cake, but no decision has been reached yet. His reasoning: anything I make would be delicious, so he can't decide what kind of delicious he wants. While that's very sweet, I'm getting impatient.
So I'm opening it up to the floor for suggestions. I would put it to a vote, but having a democratically chosen cake seems too non-Jack-centered, so I'll just leave it to you all to pipe up with suggestions that might interest him. He likes almonds, but not really almond flavor, so if you can think of a cake that would incorporate almonds, that might be a winner. Or maybe an Indian dessert. Heck, I don't know. Surprise us.
I, of course, am doing what I can to ease his transition by baking him a cake and giving him the presents that Kent and I have picked out for him. The problem with the cake is that he won't decide what kind he wants. I made German chocolate cake a couple of years in a row, and that went over well, but he wasn't too excited when I suggested it this time. I made him an Irish Coffee cake (not for his birthday, but to celebrate his new job) a few years ago, and he LOVED it, but since it has whiskey in the sauce and the whipped cream, it's sort of out of the question for toddlers. I also mentioned the possibilities of carrot cake, plain frosted chocolate cake, and pound cake, or even going crazy and having pie or chocolate mousse and fruit or something else that isn't a cake, but no decision has been reached yet. His reasoning: anything I make would be delicious, so he can't decide what kind of delicious he wants. While that's very sweet, I'm getting impatient.
So I'm opening it up to the floor for suggestions. I would put it to a vote, but having a democratically chosen cake seems too non-Jack-centered, so I'll just leave it to you all to pipe up with suggestions that might interest him. He likes almonds, but not really almond flavor, so if you can think of a cake that would incorporate almonds, that might be a winner. Or maybe an Indian dessert. Heck, I don't know. Surprise us.
Labels: getting older, husband things, kitchen adventures
- posted by erica 2/09/2009 07:54:00 PM
- 6 comments
6.02.2008
Birthday Wishes
This is a weird week for me, since Kent is starting daycare on Wednesday. I poured my heart out to Jack about it yet again last night — he's such an understanding guy to listen to my concerns over and over. This morning (well, at 3 a.m.), I decided to stop focusing on Wednesday and start thinking ahead about Kent's future, like when he's starting kindergarten and has the experience of going to school already so he's not paralyzed with fear, or when he can stay in the church nursery (someday soon?) for the whole hour without looking around for us and crying. So, onto the future. Enter the birthday plan.
We're having a small get-together with Jack's parents and a few friends in town, no other babies, no crazy pony in the backyard. The theme is going to be cats, Kent's favorite thing to grab and love. We'll have to do something to safely include Patti and Celia in the festivities, and I'm also trying to decide how best to decorate a cake with a cat on it. There will be presents, of course — a few fun books we've found, some games/puzzles, etc. — but that's not the main focus. Here's where all of you come in. Yes, all of you. Don't feel like you have to send a present; what I want you to do instead is mail a card or piece of stationery to Kent with a birthday message, and we'll read them at his party and then keep all of them in the Kent Box with his hospital bracelets, cards from when he was born, his baptism certificate, and other such keepsakes. (Leave a comment or email me if you need our address.) You can write about when you met him (if applicable), give advice for the future, tell a funny story about his parents, etc. He'll have these to pull out and read on his birthdays or anytime he wants for the rest of his life. If you want to stick with the cat theme, you could look for a cute cat card, or include a photo of a cat you know so that he can enjoy looking at all the felines. Plus, I think it will be funny when he's 30 to look through these and be reminded of how much he loved cats when he was a baby.
This idea is an offshoot of one I read about in The Creative Family, just one of her many beautiful suggestions to take a child's focus off material things and shift it to appreciation of people and life's experiences.
We're having a small get-together with Jack's parents and a few friends in town, no other babies, no crazy pony in the backyard. The theme is going to be cats, Kent's favorite thing to grab and love. We'll have to do something to safely include Patti and Celia in the festivities, and I'm also trying to decide how best to decorate a cake with a cat on it. There will be presents, of course — a few fun books we've found, some games/puzzles, etc. — but that's not the main focus. Here's where all of you come in. Yes, all of you. Don't feel like you have to send a present; what I want you to do instead is mail a card or piece of stationery to Kent with a birthday message, and we'll read them at his party and then keep all of them in the Kent Box with his hospital bracelets, cards from when he was born, his baptism certificate, and other such keepsakes. (Leave a comment or email me if you need our address.) You can write about when you met him (if applicable), give advice for the future, tell a funny story about his parents, etc. He'll have these to pull out and read on his birthdays or anytime he wants for the rest of his life. If you want to stick with the cat theme, you could look for a cute cat card, or include a photo of a cat you know so that he can enjoy looking at all the felines. Plus, I think it will be funny when he's 30 to look through these and be reminded of how much he loved cats when he was a baby.
This idea is an offshoot of one I read about in The Creative Family, just one of her many beautiful suggestions to take a child's focus off material things and shift it to appreciation of people and life's experiences.
Labels: felines, getting older, Kent
- posted by erica 6/02/2008 02:39:00 PM
- 6 comments
5.01.2008
Birthday Photo Essay
1.20.2008
Was the Suspense Killing You?
Probably not so much. But here are the pictures of me in my glasses anyway. They were kind of dark, so I messed with the contrast and brightness in Photoshop, but they're still not great. You can see what I look like, at least... and Kent too. Note his Camera Face. He totally knows how to pose already and will promptly stop whatever he's doing to look directly at the camera whenever we pull it out.This first pic is of my slightly smaller frames, which are pointed just a little bit at the bottom, so they have kind of a rounded pentagon effect. Kind of. It's really subtle. They're sort of bluish-grey, kind of a blue steel, but not like in Zoolander.
The second pic is of my slightly larger frames, which are a little more funky. They pinch behind my ears in a different way, though, so they're not comfortable to wear all day, unfortunately. They're almost black, but with a bit of a purplish cast to them. I like the fact that both frames have the slightest bit of color instead of just being silver or black.My eyes are still getting used to looking through them, even though it's easier to focus than it was a couple of days ago. At first, I felt like I was wearing 3-D glasses because everything seemed really distorted and I had all this depth perception that I didn't know what to do with. I'm more used to it now. I still keep feeling like I need to take them off when I go inside, since I'm only used to wearing sunglasses and I take those off every time I go inside. I'll get used to these, I'm sure. It's kind of a whole new strange experience, redefining myself as a Glasses Wearing Person.
Labels: getting older, Kent
- posted by erica 1/20/2008 02:44:00 PM
- 7 comments
1.17.2008
Everyone in my house is asleep except me
And it's daytime! Kent is taking a nap, the cats are sacked out as usual, and Jack had his right two wisdom teeth forcibly removed this morning, so he's doped up on pain meds and sleeping it off in bed. The surgery went fine, except that he had to wait an hour for them to come back and start after they hooked him up to everything on the table... apparently this is a busy surgeon, and he had several other surgeries and consultations this morning, too. Frustrating, but at least we don't have to go back to this guy again for anything except Jack's follow-up visit. Kent and I got to know all the other families in the waiting room while Jack had his teeth extracted, and then we got Jack's prescription and some clear liquids (since we only ever have water, milk, and OJ around the house) and came home. He got in bed fairly soon after that, and after I had some lunch, I put sleepy Kent down for a nap as well. Hopefully Jack will continue to sleep and be a pleasant patient, because I already told him yesterday that if things were hairy with Kent and then he got all whiny on top of that, I might yell at him. =)
I got a call today that my glasses are ready, so Kent and I are going to go pick those up this afternoon if Jack is still recovering well. Huzzah! I'll be able to see!
Since Jack has two fewer teeth, we're now waiting on Kent to fill the family dental void and get his first two teeth. Ho-hum... waiting...
I got a call today that my glasses are ready, so Kent and I are going to go pick those up this afternoon if Jack is still recovering well. Huzzah! I'll be able to see!
Since Jack has two fewer teeth, we're now waiting on Kent to fill the family dental void and get his first two teeth. Ho-hum... waiting...
Labels: getting older, husband things, Kent
- posted by erica 1/17/2008 01:36:00 PM
- 1 comments
1.13.2008
Frog in a Pot
That'd be me. I had no idea how bad my eyesight was getting until yesterday, when I went to a glasses place for a vision test and to order my first pair of glasses. For about a year now, I've been noticing more difficulty reading (particularly at the computer) for long periods of time — at first I thought it was just a pregnancy thing, because every other part of my body changed when I was pregnant, so I figured maybe my eyes were just doing the same thing. Not so. My parents both have/had an astigmatism, so I'd thought from an early age that I would eventually succumb and have to bid a fond farewell to my 20/20. That day has arrived. I have an astigmatism AND I'm farsighted. The doctor was amazed when he looked at the results of my tests and I told him I didn't wear glasses yet. I think he wondered why I hadn't come in sooner. He asked whether I was having frequent headaches, and inside, I laughed. I have a baby, so yes, I have frequent headaches.
So now that I've realized the truth and am waiting 7-10 business days for my new glasses (two pairs in contrasting styles), I'm getting very impatient. My eyes hurt, and I'm paying attention to that for the first time. Its worst in the evenings (especially if I have to drive at night), when I've been trying so hard to focus for the entire day that my eyes are like, "Dude. I need a break." I feel all whiny and old, not being able to see and getting very crotchety about the whole thing.
Soon, though, my new Implements of Improved Vision will be here. And lest you fret, don't. There will be pictures.
So now that I've realized the truth and am waiting 7-10 business days for my new glasses (two pairs in contrasting styles), I'm getting very impatient. My eyes hurt, and I'm paying attention to that for the first time. Its worst in the evenings (especially if I have to drive at night), when I've been trying so hard to focus for the entire day that my eyes are like, "Dude. I need a break." I feel all whiny and old, not being able to see and getting very crotchety about the whole thing.
Soon, though, my new Implements of Improved Vision will be here. And lest you fret, don't. There will be pictures.
Labels: getting older
- posted by erica 1/13/2008 09:45:00 PM
- 4 comments
6.18.2006
IRA question
Okay, all of you who are older and/or wiser and who have experience with IRAs, I need your help. I've been trying to decide where to open up a Roth IRA, since I don't currently have an employer with whom I can set up a 401-K and I want to start saving for retirement. Jack and I were looking at ING, because they have a lot of good options for mutual funds, and I want to invest in a combo of low-, medium-, and high-risk funds. They have annual fees associated with all their IRAs, however, and I'm hoping to avoid that. I know that TIAA-CREF would be a good option, but I won't be employed by a university for a few months, and even then, I might not be eligible to invest with them for a while. I don't know all of their policies yet. My only other requirement is that the investment firm be big enough that they have online banking, because I want to link my IRA to my checking account and transfer money online. I'm a child of the Technology Age and must have my online access. =)
Does anyone have suggestions? Leave a comment or email me. Thanks in advance!
Does anyone have suggestions? Leave a comment or email me. Thanks in advance!
Labels: getting older
- posted by erica 6/18/2006 01:44:00 PM
- 3 comments
5.01.2006
Birthday timeline
- 7:00 a.m.— Woke to a gorgeous, sunny day, and my husband wearing my favorite outfit of his (his brown flat-front pants and light cotton blue-and-white striped shirt that's just dressy enough for work). He picked it out all by himself and everything. As he discovered that I was awake, he got back in bed and sang "Happy Birthday" to me.
- 7:30 a.m.— Got ready for school, then walked excitedly to the dining room so I could open the card Lauren sent me. I got a few early presents and cards, but hers was the only one that told me specifically to wait, so I had opened all the others this weekend to stretch out my birthday as long as possible.
- 8:00 a.m.— Drove to school while eating my favorite breakfast, a Powerbar Harvest (double chocolate) and a bottled Frappucino. Sugar much?
- 8:30-9:30 a.m.— Sat through freshman class, where I got to hear parts of Ives' fantastic "Concord" piano sonata. A recording of this piece is definitely going on my Amazon wish list.
- 9:35 a.m.— Checked voice mail, consisting of my mom and her AP class singing "Happy Birthday" to me. Too funny. I called her back to find out who had been singing with her, but she was still teaching, so we didn't talk for very long.
- 10:00-11:00 a.m.— Worked out for the first time in a week and a half, which felt great. In the first 25.5 years of my life, a week and a half without working out would have been such the norm, but I've been so good about it this semester. During my nutty last week, though, my gym time slots were taken up by other activities, so I was happy to get back there today.
- 10:30 a.m.— Discovered a new melodic line in "Enid," one of my fave BNL songs.
- 11:30 a.m.— Came home, enjoyed my leftover taco from Taco Bell (they made us extra food by mistake last night), and watched a halfway-interesting episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine on Spike.
- 12:00 p.m.— Checked email and found many birthday messages and e-cards. Thanks to everyone who thought of me, especially since I'm so bad about keeping on top of birthdays!
- 1:00 p.m.— Putzed around the house, played games online, read a bit of research for my paper due next week, and finally took a shower.
- 2:30 p.m.— Checked voice mail, consisting of Jack's mom singing "Happy Birthday" to me.
- 4:30-5:30 p.m.— Went to worship committee meeting at church.
- 5:35 p.m.— Checked voice mail, consisting of Lauren singing "Happy Birthday" to me. I love it when people sing to me, and apparently, word has gotten out.
- 6:00 p.m.— Arrived home to find Jack still mixing ingredients for my birthday cake. I knew he'd be making it this afternoon, but I thought he would have finished mixing things and had it almost done baking by then. Since the cake was taking longer than planned, we decided to scrap plans of going out to eat (we wouldn't have left the house until almost 8 p.m.), and instead, Jack went to get take-out from P.F. Chang's, while I waited at home to take my cake out of the oven. We had a lot of fun looking at their menu online, because we had never been there and were astonished by the number of vegetarian things on the menu; they're even marked with a special icon! It was very exciting.
And now, I'm still waiting for Jack to return with our yummy Chinese dinner so that we can watch 24, top off our dinner with some yummy chocolate pound cake, and enjoy the last few hours of my birthday. Birthdays can be regular days like this one, and they're still perfect, because I'm spending time with my husband and feeling the love of friends and family. Who needs a party?
Labels: eating out, getting older, kitchen adventures, music
- posted by erica 5/01/2006 07:41:00 PM
- 2 comments
4.29.2006
On teaching
As I am about to embark on my last week of classes for the foreseeable future (unless I decide I want another degree — ha!), I will pause to ruminate on a few things. First, I have noticed a marked change in myself in the last few years. Whereas in the past, I thought I would always want to be a student and would love to keep earning degrees in different subjects I love, the practical side of me has emerged and would really like to have a real job. Not only do I covet the income that comes with a real job, but also I want the responsibility of having my own classes to teach. I've developed many ideas in graduate school about how to teach, what pieces I'm excited about having my students analyze, and how I want my classroom to feel for the students, and I'm beyond ready to implement those things in my own way. Being a teaching assistant has been great for a lot of reasons. I've gotten to shadow some cool teachers with different ways of approaching a topic. I've had the fun of teaching an eartraining lab without all the massive preparation that goes into structuring a class; let's face the fact that while I'm taking classes, I don't have time to prep really effectively for an entire course. It's been nice to have a sheet of materials handed to me each week and just to throw in a few of my own ideas and style.
Frankly, though, when it comes to my goals as a professional, I've seen and experienced a lot of things I don't want to carry forward. I don't want to go into a lot of detail here, but I've decided that teaching at a large public university is not my ideal employment situation. Sure, it would be nice to have only two courses a semester, but I want to be in a school with a real sense of community and tradition, somewhere with an honor code, and DEFINITELY a school where I wouldn't be given a class of 100 and told to "teach" them music theory. Music theory is not a lecture-based discipline. Actually, I think every discipline is better when it's not lecture-based and when the students are engaged and participating members of a class instead of bleary-eyed persons being talked at. But for students to learn why analysis will help them as musicians (the real challenge in getting them through music theory classes), they actually need to practice it often, get feedback on their attempts, and be able to have real discussions in class about important analytical issues, and these things simply don't happen in a class of 100 (or even a class of 70, which is what we're down to now).
I have no idea what kind of job I'll actually get when I'm on the market, but with a little luck, I'll have the luxury of picking a region AND a type of school I want, instead of getting a first job I don't like and then moving again in a few years.
I have one week of classes, one term paper, and one final exam standing between me and the end of coursework. And yet, I have so much ahead of me before I finish my degree. It's daunting, but what will carry me through is that image of an ideal classroom, where students sit in a circle and argue with each other about their analyses of a particular piece, and I get to sit back, interject a pointed comment every once in a while, and smile.
Frankly, though, when it comes to my goals as a professional, I've seen and experienced a lot of things I don't want to carry forward. I don't want to go into a lot of detail here, but I've decided that teaching at a large public university is not my ideal employment situation. Sure, it would be nice to have only two courses a semester, but I want to be in a school with a real sense of community and tradition, somewhere with an honor code, and DEFINITELY a school where I wouldn't be given a class of 100 and told to "teach" them music theory. Music theory is not a lecture-based discipline. Actually, I think every discipline is better when it's not lecture-based and when the students are engaged and participating members of a class instead of bleary-eyed persons being talked at. But for students to learn why analysis will help them as musicians (the real challenge in getting them through music theory classes), they actually need to practice it often, get feedback on their attempts, and be able to have real discussions in class about important analytical issues, and these things simply don't happen in a class of 100 (or even a class of 70, which is what we're down to now).
I have no idea what kind of job I'll actually get when I'm on the market, but with a little luck, I'll have the luxury of picking a region AND a type of school I want, instead of getting a first job I don't like and then moving again in a few years.
I have one week of classes, one term paper, and one final exam standing between me and the end of coursework. And yet, I have so much ahead of me before I finish my degree. It's daunting, but what will carry me through is that image of an ideal classroom, where students sit in a circle and argue with each other about their analyses of a particular piece, and I get to sit back, interject a pointed comment every once in a while, and smile.
Labels: getting older, school
- posted by erica 4/29/2006 10:40:00 AM
- 1 comments
5.04.2005
All grown up
I feel like an adult now. Let us not overlook the fact that I turned 25 on Sunday, which, let's face it, is old (she says, tongue-in-cheek). But that's not why I feel like a grown-up today. Today was the first time I actually enjoyed a cup of black coffee.
My step-dad told me once that when he first tried coffee, he put a lot of cream and sugar in it, but he really hated it. Only later did he realize that it was the cream and sugar he didn't like, and once he got down to the actual coffee, he thought it was great. My experience wasn't exactly like that; rather, I had to train myself over a period of years to take less and less other stuff in my coffee. I used to put milk and sugar, and then I started using flavored creamers, because at least that's only one thing to add. Then I found out that cream or half & half does the job of cutting the bitterness, and it's sweet enough that I don't have to add sugar or silly expensive flavorings as well. So for a while now, I've been putting half & half in my coffee and skipping the sugar. However, out of necessity, I drank a cup of black coffee today, and I actually liked it. One of my favorite professors has a little one-cup coffee maker in his office, and I've availed myself of a cup from time to time. I smelled his freshly-brewed cup today, and so I asked if I could make myself a cup, but then I had to go help a student for a little while, so he brought me my coffee when it was done brewing, sans additives. At first, I was about to run into his office and put something in it, but then I thought, "No, I'll try this. Maybe I can handle it by now." Apparently, I can. Over time, I've gotten used to the actual coffee taste, which I used to think was bitter and horrible but now find rather comforting and invigorating.
I always thought it'd be so much easier if I could just train myself to drink black coffee, because it's more convenient not to add stuff and risk making a big mess. Additionally, I always thought I'd be cooler if I could drink it straight, because then I'd have something in common with detectives, coffee-house snobs, and the Gilmore girls. And I was right! I even feel cooler.
I've just come to the realization that I spent entirely too much time thinking about this. I really need a life.
My step-dad told me once that when he first tried coffee, he put a lot of cream and sugar in it, but he really hated it. Only later did he realize that it was the cream and sugar he didn't like, and once he got down to the actual coffee, he thought it was great. My experience wasn't exactly like that; rather, I had to train myself over a period of years to take less and less other stuff in my coffee. I used to put milk and sugar, and then I started using flavored creamers, because at least that's only one thing to add. Then I found out that cream or half & half does the job of cutting the bitterness, and it's sweet enough that I don't have to add sugar or silly expensive flavorings as well. So for a while now, I've been putting half & half in my coffee and skipping the sugar. However, out of necessity, I drank a cup of black coffee today, and I actually liked it. One of my favorite professors has a little one-cup coffee maker in his office, and I've availed myself of a cup from time to time. I smelled his freshly-brewed cup today, and so I asked if I could make myself a cup, but then I had to go help a student for a little while, so he brought me my coffee when it was done brewing, sans additives. At first, I was about to run into his office and put something in it, but then I thought, "No, I'll try this. Maybe I can handle it by now." Apparently, I can. Over time, I've gotten used to the actual coffee taste, which I used to think was bitter and horrible but now find rather comforting and invigorating.
I always thought it'd be so much easier if I could just train myself to drink black coffee, because it's more convenient not to add stuff and risk making a big mess. Additionally, I always thought I'd be cooler if I could drink it straight, because then I'd have something in common with detectives, coffee-house snobs, and the Gilmore girls. And I was right! I even feel cooler.
I've just come to the realization that I spent entirely too much time thinking about this. I really need a life.
Labels: coffee, getting older, my stepdad
- posted by erica 5/04/2005 04:45:00 PM
- 2 comments
8.28.2003
I LOVE GRAD SCHOOL. Oh my goodness. I'm happy. I'm taking four kick-ass classes that are EXACTLY what I wanted to study, unlike undergrad which sometimes just isn't, and I'm teaching two classes with the cutest little freshmen anyone has ever seen; they're just adorable. So young. I had my first real teaching gig today (I wasn't paid for student teaching and therefore don't count it). =) Both classes went really well, and I'm eager to get into more complex stuff with them. This is going to be fun. I also have an office all to myself... I'm the only TA in the music school who can say that, because there were an odd number of us and my advisor decided it would be my turn to be alone first. This means that not only do I have a personal space on campus to keep my snacks, extra books, and various school supplies, but I also have a piano that's all mine, mine mine mine, and I can practice whenever I want. YAY! I feel like a little kid. I'm elated when I walk around campus and when I get to take only a notebook and a pen to class instead of lugging around all the stuff I need for the day... boy, people with offices really have it made. =) Okay, enough about that.
So the classes I'm taking are Symphonic Literature, Theory Pedagogy, Theory & Analysis of Tonal Music, and Editing Early Music for those keeping score at home. I opted out of Russian Piano Music because the class is still TBA (four days into the semester) and I'm really enjoying Symphonic Lit. I knew I'd like the professor, and I was right; he's excited to be teaching this class, and he's demanding in a very positive way. He teaches the music history portion of the freshman class for which I'm a TA, so I'm working with him twice; I'm also taking Theory Pedagogy from the professor who's teaching the music theory portion, so he gets to teach me twice how to teach. He's even going to have the Pedagogy class members do observations of graduate TAs, so some people from my class are going to have to watch me teach. Ugh. That part isn't so great, but I'll deal with it when the time comes, and I'm sure it'll be fine. In the Editing Early Music class we've been transcribing a 15th century manuscript into modern notation for homework, which is actually really fun and works well in my mathematical-type brain, even though I feel like I should be doing it by candlelight or something like the monks used to do. See? In my office, I can pretend to be a medieval monk while I do my homework, and no one will know. Mwa ha haaaaa.
Wow, I'm having a silly afternoon. This is one of the few times this semester I'll actually be home before 5... I have classes late most days and at that point in the afternoon, it takes at least 20 minutes to battle traffic out of campus. It's terrible. I even drive the opposite direction as my apartment to get on the highway because 5:00 traffic on I-10, horrendous though it sometimes is, is preferable to the one-lane, 2-mph-if-I'm-lucky mess coming out of LSU. It's just bad. Luckily I have to be there quite early in the morning (my first classes every day are in the 8:00 hour), so if I get to campus by 7:30, traffic isn't bad at all. That gives me some time to put my stuff down in my OFFICE (room 280 if you're planning a visit), walk over to the coffeehouse if I so desire, and warm up at the piano or do whatever I want. I could get used to getting up early. Did I just say that? Who was that freak who just wrote that? Wow, I'm becoming an adult. Be careful; it could happen to you too.
So the classes I'm taking are Symphonic Literature, Theory Pedagogy, Theory & Analysis of Tonal Music, and Editing Early Music for those keeping score at home. I opted out of Russian Piano Music because the class is still TBA (four days into the semester) and I'm really enjoying Symphonic Lit. I knew I'd like the professor, and I was right; he's excited to be teaching this class, and he's demanding in a very positive way. He teaches the music history portion of the freshman class for which I'm a TA, so I'm working with him twice; I'm also taking Theory Pedagogy from the professor who's teaching the music theory portion, so he gets to teach me twice how to teach. He's even going to have the Pedagogy class members do observations of graduate TAs, so some people from my class are going to have to watch me teach. Ugh. That part isn't so great, but I'll deal with it when the time comes, and I'm sure it'll be fine. In the Editing Early Music class we've been transcribing a 15th century manuscript into modern notation for homework, which is actually really fun and works well in my mathematical-type brain, even though I feel like I should be doing it by candlelight or something like the monks used to do. See? In my office, I can pretend to be a medieval monk while I do my homework, and no one will know. Mwa ha haaaaa.
Wow, I'm having a silly afternoon. This is one of the few times this semester I'll actually be home before 5... I have classes late most days and at that point in the afternoon, it takes at least 20 minutes to battle traffic out of campus. It's terrible. I even drive the opposite direction as my apartment to get on the highway because 5:00 traffic on I-10, horrendous though it sometimes is, is preferable to the one-lane, 2-mph-if-I'm-lucky mess coming out of LSU. It's just bad. Luckily I have to be there quite early in the morning (my first classes every day are in the 8:00 hour), so if I get to campus by 7:30, traffic isn't bad at all. That gives me some time to put my stuff down in my OFFICE (room 280 if you're planning a visit), walk over to the coffeehouse if I so desire, and warm up at the piano or do whatever I want. I could get used to getting up early. Did I just say that? Who was that freak who just wrote that? Wow, I'm becoming an adult. Be careful; it could happen to you too.
Labels: getting older, school
- posted by erica 8/28/2003 06:07:00 PM
- 0 comments
5.11.2003
Happy Mothers' Day to all the mommies reading this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We're getting ready to move... and we're ready mentally, but BOY do we have a lot of packing to do. Urgh. We did several boxes last night, and we're really trying to get a jump on it so we won't be up all night the night before we move! Wish us luck. Speaking of luck, I have two exams (for my two classes... go figure); German is on Monday and Analysis is Tuesday. Woohoo. I'm nervous, simply because they're exams, but since my grades in these classes aren't as important as when I was in undergrad, I'm trying not to be too worried. I'll let you know how that works out. =)
Well, my birthday was a smashing success. Jack and I went to the Olive Garden (mmm) and then saw A Mighty Wind. We hadn't seen any of Christopher Guest's other movies (This is Spinal Tap, Best in Show, Waiting for Guffman), but we loved this one. If you don't know the format, they're known as "mockumentaries" (documentary style about fictitious characters and events). A Mighty Wind is about a bunch of folk groups who are reuniting for a concert commemorating their recently-deceased former manager... it's just hilarious. Anyway, we bought Best in Show (about a competitive dog show) from Borders and watched it, and it too was quite funny. =) I can't wait to see the others. =) This past Tuesday, I was supposed to go to Mom's for a belated birthday dinner, and Lauren and Katherine were going to come as well. As a fun twist, I got a migraine on Tuesday and spent several hours throwing up... what a fun time that was. Anyway, the few migraines I've had (this makes three in two years) have been severe but short, luckily, so it was gone by 6 p.m. and we had my party the next day! I was happy Lauren and Katherine could still come, since it involved some schedule rearranging.
The other bit of news on the Patti front, since we haven't created a blog for her yet, is that Patti was my best huntress last week. I came back from the shower and there was a REALLY ugly bug in the bedroom... one of those prickly long ones with two or three hundred legs. She wasn't in the room when it appeared, so I picked her up from the hall and put her down in front of it, hoping she would eat it. It was a nice idea, anyway. She looked at it for a while, and when she reached down to nose it, it took off... boy could that thing run! Anyway, I told her to keep an eye on it since I was pretty sure she wouldn't eat it, and I went to get the Raid. If Jack had been there, I might have asked him to take it outside and rehabilitate it, but I was alone, and it was creepy and big. She tracked it under a pile of Jack's dirty clothes and wouldn't let it out until I came back. Finally, it ran out, and as soon as I sprayed it, Patti ran away, I guess from the sound of the aerosol. It died, and we had a moment of silence, and then I got dressed and went to class. I was jumpy for the next several hours... in case you can't tell, I'll just let you know that I'm not a bug person. I make Jack deal with them, which might be old-fashioned and anti-feminist of me, but bugs are yuck. That's all the news that's fit to print... I'm off to work.
We're getting ready to move... and we're ready mentally, but BOY do we have a lot of packing to do. Urgh. We did several boxes last night, and we're really trying to get a jump on it so we won't be up all night the night before we move! Wish us luck. Speaking of luck, I have two exams (for my two classes... go figure); German is on Monday and Analysis is Tuesday. Woohoo. I'm nervous, simply because they're exams, but since my grades in these classes aren't as important as when I was in undergrad, I'm trying not to be too worried. I'll let you know how that works out. =)
Well, my birthday was a smashing success. Jack and I went to the Olive Garden (mmm) and then saw A Mighty Wind. We hadn't seen any of Christopher Guest's other movies (This is Spinal Tap, Best in Show, Waiting for Guffman), but we loved this one. If you don't know the format, they're known as "mockumentaries" (documentary style about fictitious characters and events). A Mighty Wind is about a bunch of folk groups who are reuniting for a concert commemorating their recently-deceased former manager... it's just hilarious. Anyway, we bought Best in Show (about a competitive dog show) from Borders and watched it, and it too was quite funny. =) I can't wait to see the others. =) This past Tuesday, I was supposed to go to Mom's for a belated birthday dinner, and Lauren and Katherine were going to come as well. As a fun twist, I got a migraine on Tuesday and spent several hours throwing up... what a fun time that was. Anyway, the few migraines I've had (this makes three in two years) have been severe but short, luckily, so it was gone by 6 p.m. and we had my party the next day! I was happy Lauren and Katherine could still come, since it involved some schedule rearranging.
The other bit of news on the Patti front, since we haven't created a blog for her yet, is that Patti was my best huntress last week. I came back from the shower and there was a REALLY ugly bug in the bedroom... one of those prickly long ones with two or three hundred legs. She wasn't in the room when it appeared, so I picked her up from the hall and put her down in front of it, hoping she would eat it. It was a nice idea, anyway. She looked at it for a while, and when she reached down to nose it, it took off... boy could that thing run! Anyway, I told her to keep an eye on it since I was pretty sure she wouldn't eat it, and I went to get the Raid. If Jack had been there, I might have asked him to take it outside and rehabilitate it, but I was alone, and it was creepy and big. She tracked it under a pile of Jack's dirty clothes and wouldn't let it out until I came back. Finally, it ran out, and as soon as I sprayed it, Patti ran away, I guess from the sound of the aerosol. It died, and we had a moment of silence, and then I got dressed and went to class. I was jumpy for the next several hours... in case you can't tell, I'll just let you know that I'm not a bug person. I make Jack deal with them, which might be old-fashioned and anti-feminist of me, but bugs are yuck. That's all the news that's fit to print... I'm off to work.
Labels: felines, getting older, school, what to watch
- posted by erica 5/11/2003 11:21:00 AM
- 0 comments
