Ride

In preparation for my sister's annual visit out west with her kids, my mom and I discussed things we could all go do together.  I made note of the fact that my sister's kids had never been to the desert.  Mom and I discussed this a bit, finally deciding it's just too hot to go play in the Washington desertlands.  Meanwhile, Gwen and Tula were listening in and chattering amongst themselves.  Mom and I eventually clued into the fact that Tula was trying to tell us something.  Shouting from the back seat was Tula: "I want to ride the camels!!"  "What?" said Grandma. "I WANT to RIDE the CAMELS!!" Mom looked at me, confused.  "In the desert." was all I had to say.  A couple days later I took the girls to the zoo and let them ride the camel.

Swing and a Miss

Gwendo has been playing some coach pitch this year, and I must say she's been doing pretty well.  She really likes to play outfield, mostly because she gets to back-up her fellow players and throw the ball in.  I speculate that she may not like it that much once the kids start popping up fly balls in her direction, but we probably have a couple years before that's an issue.

Tonight at dinner we were discussing our weekend plans and this is the conversation that revealed itself...

Gwen: "So, I have a baseball game on Saturday?"
Me: "Yep. It's at 9."
Gwen: "Ok. (pause) *sigh*... I just hope I don't have to play catcher."
Me: "Why don't you want to play catcher?"
Gwen: Half whispered, with her teenager-esque eyebrows pointed at her dumb mom, "Because they have to wear that weird costume!"

I almost choked on my dinner.  Maybe baseball isn't her gig.

Refreshed

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.  For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.   -Kahlil Gibran

We spent last week at Pacific Beach.  A full week with giggling kids and visiting grown-ups.  We were very fortunate in that our only measurable rain was during sleeping hours and the clouds frequently parted revealing the blue sky that so rarely shows itself to the Washington Coast.  The house we rented was filled with thoughtful amenities, like a giant bucket full of rain boots of all sizes.  It was a week filled with sand, sunshine, friends and wine.  I returned home refreshed and very ready to send the kids back to school! 

Zzzzzz....

There may be some common traits in the fam... and I'm not just talking about the snoring...

Brain Cloud

The powers that be have already broken ground on what will be the new NICU at my hospital.  We, the staff, have been brainstorming all the many many things we want for the new unit for the past few months (or years as it may be).   A few days ago, I found myself in a work conversation about cycled lighting and the potential for it in our new unit.  The idea of cycled lighting-reinforcing day and night patterns-I find to be a comforting thought.  I hope we get to test it out when we move into our new space.  Not too long after this conversation, the ballast started to go out in the dated fluorescent fixture above one of my patient's bed.  The resulting random and spontaneous strobe, was anything but developmentally sound.  All I could think of was the scene in Joe Vs the Volcano where Joe rants about the fluorescent lights sucking the juices out of his eyes... "suck, suck, suck..."


and for those of you out there who have never seen Joe vs the Volcano... ahem... you know who you are...

Book Club: A Good American

A few months back some friends invited me to join their book club.  Under usual circumstances I probably would have declined as I don't like being told what to read.  In fact, I usually refuse to read things that come highly recommended by friends because I'm afraid I'll loathe the book entirely and then be forced to explain why on earth I detest said book.  However, I may have had a couple of adult beverages on board when I was invited and the appeal of hanging out with a handful of friends once a month over wine casually discussing (or not discussing) a book didn't sound too bad.  I must say, book club has been a pleasant surprise.  I've stepped away from the stack of nerdy research studies that usually fill my free time and started reading novels again.  I had forgotten what an escape reading can be.

This month's book was A Good American by Alex George.  The book has gotten good reviews and I love the idea of this kind of story.  Very basically, it's the story of a family lineage from the arrival of immigrant ancestors to current residents.  It's the story of a family's personal adaptations brought on by real and perceived social expectations on what it means to be a good American.  I've thought may times of what a story like this would look like about my family.  I've wondered if my little family is living up to the expectations my ancestors had when they fled in search of the America of their dreams...

I finished the book yesterday and I'm still processing my opinion of it.  I loved the first half of the book.  It was fast paced and briefly touched on social turmoil without putting a whole lot of judgement on it.  It skimmed through history much the same way a conversation with my grandparents might.  It swooped through painful and sentimental moments with ease and didn't dwell on any one particular strife. It seemed to stay true to the perspective of the narrator being a story teller and not a participant.  But then it shifted, and as the story came into the lifetime of the narrator I began to lose interest.  It began to stagnate on things that didn't seem as important to the story at large, things only important to the narrator.  I wasn't impressed with the shift.  While the story ended well and tied off many of the loose ends, I was left wanting more of the back story and not really caring about the narrator at all.

So, I read it.  I didn't give up on it partway through, which I have been know to do.  Is it my favorite book?  No.  Is it worth reading?  Yes.  It has characters that stay with you a while, and that you actually want to care about.  It's a book that does make you reflect a little.  And that is perhaps my favorite part of reading novels.  Have you read it?  What did you think?

Bass Guitar Birthday

While my big girl has always amazed me with her flair for fluff; all things tulle and lace, my wee one has surprised me with her eye for power and strength.  This year's birthday request was no different when all 30lbs of her asked me to please make her a hot pink bass guitar birthday cake.  Not only was she serious, dead serious, she knew exactly what a bass guitar should look (and sound) like.  So I, the obliging mother, set off to hunt down the means to make my little girl's dream come true.  And being a glutton for punishment (read:high maintenence) I refused to allow myself the out of simply buying the cake at a bakery.  As foolish as it may seem, I refuse to buy cakes.  

I started by sending Matt to the Top Foods to selectively dig through their candy bins (poor guy, he sure hates to have to pick out candy...) On the list was black licorice pinwheels for the guitar strings, and some kind of gumdrop candies that I could flatten out for the pick guards and such.  

I found a decent picture of a bass guitar on-line and printed it out to a size that would fit on the cake.  I then traced it and layered the tracings under waxed paper and piped my favorite homemade buttercream frosting onto the waxed paper.  Piped waxed paper then went into the freezer; nice thing about butter cream is that it freezes really quickly.  Once it was frozen I quickly and gently slid it onto the cake while removing the waxed paper from underneath.  

Then I just added the finishing touches and blazow... Hot pink bass guitar birthday cake.  She was pretty stoked.  Matched her Dance Party theme pretty well.  We rocked David Bowie, Queen  and Taylor Swift like there was no tomorrow.