And The Procrastination Prize Goes To...

So I thought I would go ahead and honor the daily blogging duties early since it is Saturday night and the kids will be with the grandparents. I expect to let my hair down a little (I might even find the time to wash it!). If I waited until much later to write, it is entirely possible that today's posting would be some ridiculous alcohol induced rant about my current theories about "Lost" or my negative opinion of low-fat food. Allow me to spare you the fate.

Today was the Boy Scout Pine Wood Derby. I spent the better part of my day in the basement of a church watching wooden cars roll down a sloped track over and over and over. I hear Di Vinci did this type of thing for fun and to that I say, what a dork. I watched as much Mr. Wizard as the next kid but I seem to have been shorted the interest in physical science that so many of the parents in my company seemed to have in such massive supply today. Sam was born into an "artsy" family. In other words, his parents suck at math and science and can barely help him with his homework let alone help him design a 6 inch vehicle. I can help him paint it or give it a cool name...I know, poor kid.

For those of you unfamiliar with the event, the boys are given a block of wood and four wheels and sent off to make a car to race in about a month. There are all kinds of rules that determine what kind of car you'll return with but we don't worry too much about these since we are just pretty happy if it actually rolls by the time we're done.

Last year, my husband, Ray, waited until the morning of the race to make the car. I was irritated (but no more than usual) and prodded him to sit down with our son Sam to produce a car quickly enough that he might participate. We arrived at the race and happily presented Sam's little car. We were happy until we saw some of the other cars. Honestly, some of them looked like NASA engineers had designed them. We braced ourselves for the worst. But amidst all of our underachiever dread the strangest thing happened, Sam won.

So this year, we decided to just do our best to replicate what was done last year. For me this meant trying to emulate the structure of the first car, for Ray this meant putting everything off until race day again. I launched into a whole tirade about poor little Sam missing out on the skills, science learning, work ethic opportunities and father son bonding as a result of the procrastination to the point that Ray was calling any of our friends and neighbors that had ever built a birdhouse to help us help Sam build this little car. The Federal Government does not have as many checks and balances as this little wooden car went through this morning. We were feeling pretty confident as we walked in. It lost in the first round. Sam didn't really care either way, he was just having fun watching the cars roll down a hill.

What's the lesson here? I have no idea. Unless, maybe Ray and I don't have to be the ones to teach Sam everything. Maybe he doesn't need to learn all of that stuff yet. Maybe he just needs to have some fun watching a block of wood with wheels roll. Maybe sometimes winging it works just fine.

Nice to meet you, again and again and again.

I have insomnia again. One travels through many states when up for an extended period of time alone and sleep deprived. I seem to have found the bored and sentimental part of the evening so I thought maybe I should take Amy's advice and begin blogging. I make no promises that it will be articulate or entertaining. But I can promise it will be in English.

Thirteen years ago, I became acquainted with a girl named Phoebe. Truth be told, she wasn't named that already, that's the name we gave her when she was born. She was 6lbs. 12 oz. of the closest thing I had ever found to perfection. A genuine source of amazement and pride because I honestly had never really imagined that I could ever create anything as wonderful as what I, then struggled to even hold properly. Many mothers talk about the instant, absorbing love that they felt at that moment. I'm not one of those mothers. I was just pretty freaked out. Believe me, I wanted to have that maternal feeling and was sure there must have really been something wrong with me for not having this immediate, all consuming affection for my child. But it just wasn't there yet. I was going to have to wait. I was going to have to get to know her and learn to love on our own terms.

Thankfully, that love did come shortly thereafter but it took a little time .I have lived with a girl named Phoebe for thirteen years and I have loved her through almost the entire time but today I will confess, I haven't liked her near as much (especially the past few years). Since Phoebe has become a pre-teen, teen, whatever term she currently falls under, it often feels as if her goal is to see how long it takes until I lose it, like I am actually a science project or something. I sometimes imagine she has a stopwatch in her pocket that she references after an argument and on her way up to her room she notes, "Hmmm, this time it only took 12 minutes, the subject seems sensitive to eye rolling and the mumbling of expletives. Very interesting..."

This is not to say we have a bad relationship or always fight. All in all I think we are doing okay. But it can be exhausting never knowing how a conversation with her will turn out. Every morning the girl that comes down the stairs is a different one from the girl that went up the night before at bedtime. Maybe its just hormones, or the mystery of adolescent brain development. Maybe she thinks transformative thoughts before she drifts off to sleep each night. I have no idea. What I do know is that each day it seems like I am meeting Phoebe all over again.

Today we struggled to have basic normal interactions all day long. At one moment she wants my undivided attention so she can tell me every detail of conversation with a friend (complete with the likes peppered throughout the story until you unintentionally begin to keep count), the next moment she doesn't want to even answer you when you ask her if she is hungry. God forbid, you ask her if she had a fight with a friend you hadn't seen in a while or why she came downstairs made up like a beauty pageant contestant after months of only wearing lip gloss. She treats me like I am Kenneth Starr and if I find out what she wants for dinner she will be impeached from the 8th grade. I'm so over it. Just when I am contemplating what kind of response will help me feel vindicated without warranting a visit from social services it occurred to me that Phoebe is as confused by her actions as I am.

Maybe I am not the only one forced to reacquaint myself with her each day. Maybe Phoebe is meeting herself over and over again everyday too. Maybe Phoebe is getting to know herself and just trying to find a way to love herself on her own terms. She may have to wait a while. In the meantime, I may have to love this stranger enough for the both of us, even if I can't always like her. And today, I don't. Really on my nerves...

Adventures in Networking

With Levi safely recovered from his head injury, Kevin and I shifted our focus to our newest obsession: Networking. People keep telling us to network, because not only are we are both underemployed (heck, one of us is unemployed), but apparently this social behavior leads to aligning yourself on the right path and opening the door to new opportunities.


Unfortunately for us, being in our 30's and having 5 kids means never having time to get out and about. We have one who is barely old enough to babysit (she's almost 13)..but none who could safely take care of Levi, still only 20 months old. Most of our friends have become "phone friends" and "virtual friends" at this point, given that we only have time to catch up via cell phone on the way to and from work and I am on Facebook non-stop keeping tabs on old pals I used to be able to hang out with.

We were having a true TGIF moment last Friday when Kevin and I decided to meet for lunch at Cumberland Brews, a local brewery with pretty good pub fare. It was a relatively warm day for the Kentucky winter we had been experiencing, so we decided to have lunch out on the sidewalk.

Plus, I was rocking my $5 estate sale bunny fur, so I was toasty enough to bear the cold weather for a few hours. And, the hand-crafted beer is exceptionally warm in your belly.

After lunch, Kevin dropped me off at Heine Brothers, a neighorhood coffee shop with, of course, free Wifi, so I could work on my current project. (Being unemployed does not mean I still don't have work to do)! Anyhow, long story short, I'm minding my own business, eating cheesecake and drinking coffee...when I start to catch special keywords from the conversation taking place at the next table. I heard about a lot of things I was interested in: whole foods, organic, slow cooking, Wendell Berry (Kentucky author renowned for his thoughts on getting back to the earth), book, sustainability, creative writing, etc. etc. etc. There was one main speaker and two others giving him feedback I thought was insufficient....and with all this talking I was getting no work done...so I decided it was time to intervene. Surprisingly, the table received me warmly and I established our first important networking connection. Turns out, the guy was an English professor at a nearby college, and he was writing a book about whole foods and sustainability. As parents, I offered, we are constantly striving to figure out what to feed our five kids, and we try to make the best decisions possible, but we're not perfect and budget does not always accommodate. Apparently that, and the fact that I used to write for The Courier-Journal, was enough to secure Kevin and I an essay in the book. To Kevin's advantage, our new networking prospect was a professor of English, which he hopes to one day become. A true win-win for a first attempt. So we exchanged information and left to pick up the kids.

Friday night was especially productive: Kevin and I had plans to go to our friend Dan Rhema's house to pick up our art pieces that had been photographed for a book that week. We took Levi, employed the oldest as a babysitter for the night, stopped off for a haircut (all three of us!), and made our way to Dan's. In just over an hour, we were on our way out the door with our paintings, and I had re-established a connection with an old writer friend and made several new ones, and was in the running to help them start an ad agency. At any rate, another success.

Saturday was a busy day filled with the kids' activities, but Sunday rolled along and we were grateful for the break: Our four girls had plans to go with my mom to Lexington for the day to practice a dance number for my cousin's wedding shower. They were also spending the night, since school was going to be out on Monday, which gave us an entire afternoon and evening to spend networking with Levi.

The second the kids left, we grabbed our coats and headed again to Cumberland Brews, where we ran into some old friends from the art community. I used to do a lot of arts writing and plan to get back to it, so again, success. Keeping the connections alive. Ray, one of Kevin's friends from the music business, called from Lexington and was headed toward Louisville with his wife, Melissa, who was one of my references for the college professor's book and who also happened to be a writer. We had dinner with them that night at Havana Rhumba, a local joint with an extensive Cuban Menu and a margarita that could put a person out for days. Kevin and Ray networked their way through the regional music scene; Melissa and I were busy planning our new blog, which you are now reading.

Finally, Monday morning rolled around, and Kevin and I decided to complete our local tour-de-restaurants with a trip to Lynn's Paradise Cafe, a very quirky and diverse diner that serves up a really mean breakfast. On the way out, I make another important connection: I met, in person, a local artist I have interviewed once or twice that has VERY important ties in the goings-on of Louisville's art scene. Neworking? Check.

The rest of the week went by pretty quickly: We were busy with kids' activities, school and work (or lack thereof!), with all meals prepared at home and zero opportunities to keep the networking rolling. Then, on Friday, a funny thing happened: Kevin decided to pick up a growler (giant jug of take-home beer) of Cream Ale from--guess where?--Cumberland Brews!--on his way home from work. While he was waiting, he had a pint at the bar. He picked up bits and pieces of a conversation behind him. The topic? The best time of the day to smoke pot. From experience, the man speaking had surmised the best time of day is in the morning (before class!), and certainly NOT after he had started drinking, which was just a complete waste. Finally, Kevin turned around, only to discover the voice belonged to the college professor from the coffee shop! (SOUND OF VINYL SCRATCHING): Networking opportunity comes simultaneously full circle and to a screeching halt.

So, we reasoned, not only was our new networking connection writing a book about food because he had a serious case of the munchies, he was also probably pretty paranoid at this point and thinking we are following him! However, we surmise, anyone with good taste in brew--coffee AND beer--is alright with us.
--A

Head Trauma Drama

So we were on our way out the door to dinner at one of our favorite Bar-B-Q joints, when we heard a giant THUD in the bedroom. Turns out Levi wanted a bracelet off the top of the dresser, and he knocked a very heavy glass bowl onto the floor in his efforts to grab it. It was immediately apparent, judging from the huge and rapidly growing bump on his forehead, that the bowl must have hit him in the head on the way down. So instead of heading to dinner, we were on our way to the hospital.

Levi, who cried for only minute and rubbed his head for just a few seconds, was in rare form, cracking up and making a series of funny faces at me from the back seat. Sophie was, as usual, screaming that she is hungry. We kept second-guessing ourselves..."Levi doesn't even know he's having an emergency...He seems fine..." (as he continues to laugh from the back seat). But, we reasoned--the glass WAS really heavy, and we didn't see it happen, and what if he had swelling internally?

We got to the hospital and signed in at the desk. In the waiting room, Levi was laughing and playing. He found his reflection in the window and tried to bump his head against it. He fake-picked his nose (we think it's gross, so he thinks's it's hilarious). And Sophie kept asking us for vending machine snacks, but we did not have change.

After a short spell of waiting, Levi was called to the check-in desk. He was cool about getting on the scale, but he was much less enthusiastic about having his vitals taken. As soon as the nurse started sliding the heart monitor onto his finger, Levi started to wail. They tried his toe. Even worse. Levi kicked and screamed through the entire evaluation, right down to the placement of the hospital bracelet on his ankle. Another nurse came in at this point and handed Levi a stuffed elephant branded with the hospital's name. She brought two more, one for Izzy and one for Sophie. "We already have one of those," Sophie said to the nurse matter-of-factly. Kevin and I laughed, but we were secretly embarrassed.

We had been in the same emergency room no less than 3 months before, when Levi fell out of our suburban in the Home Depot parking lot and landed on his head. Even then, he played all the way to the the hospital, but we were certain that time the fall could have far more serious consequences. Levi wound up with a CAT scan that night, along with a really cool and very understanding doctor who laughed at us and asked us if Levi was our first boy.

So anyway, there we were again, checking him in for a second time for the same reason.
After check-in, we were taken directly to the pediatric ward. We spent a great deal of time in the room, the twins watching garbage on Cartoon Network (Sophie periodically whining about snacks) and Levi howling the whole time. The nurses brought Levi crayons and Sprite, but he didn't trust them, so he wouldn't have any part in either activity. He went for an X-ray and hated it. He was still screaming.

Finally, our doctor arrived, who recognized us immediately from our previous visit. For whatever reason, Levi really likes her, so he calmed down quite a bit to let her do her work. After the examination, we were discharged rather quickly with an ice pack and a set of instructions. I jokingly told the doctor we were getting a lamp shade for Levi's head, and she told us to buy him a helmet instead. Followed by, "That's what all the doctors use at home, only we just don't tell anyone. See you next time," she chirped, then winked.

On the way out, Levi was thrilled. He was laughing, playing and waving "bye-bye" to all the nurses. They all laughed, too...but we kept thinking it will be even less funny if we have to come back a third time.
--A