Call It What You Want...

What a day to have a kiddo. Mark got to go to the nursery this morning during church after carrying on through the WHOLE children's sermon. The person giving the sermon (a very nice mom of 3) said he should have come down front, because her group was pretty quiet. It would have at least been some talking. Another of his friends at church said she'd have sworn he was singing. She was right. He was. At the top of his little lungs. That's my boy...

There was a small insulin emergency at the back of the sanctuary at the end of service, so off we went to the congregational forum in the fellowship hall. Fun times for all. Lots of changes, rocky times in the church these last several months, so it was a meeting designed to "clear the air." Our 4-year-old friend Olivia was with us as her mommy (who has the spiritual gift of mercy printed all over her) was helping out with the emergency in the sanctuary, and Olivia, well, wasn't. So Olivia and Mark gave ME an excuse to step out of the meeting. I had to take them somewhere to play, you know.

I took the two kiddos down to the nursery, where we joined quite a hoarde, along with another pair of adults -- who weren't scheduled to be in the nursery for the 9:30 hour either. There were LOTS of kids there who had been funneled OUT of the sanctuary to make room for the paramedics and to take embarrassing attention away from the sick man. So it seemed a good idea for me to stay. Mark got to swing on the swing, I helped supervise the playground, all was good.

We stayed in the nursery until Olivia's mommy came to take her home (and reported that all was okay with the diabetic friend). Then two reponsible and helpful young ladies came to the nursery to help out (me when I was that age, and a sidekick) and Mark and I headed back to the meeting.

We slipped in and joined Tim at the side, and Keith began talking about the plans for building. Things had been pretty tense. There were some difficult things that were being addressed, some hurts, some concerns, indeed. They were still tense. We'd only been in there a few minutes when Mark (wonder where he got this?) started talking -- loudly. All the men who go to Saturday morning Bible study know Mark -- and his voice. Keith stopped in mid-thought and said "Is that Mark?" and everyone laughed.

We left shortly thereafter as the meeting was winding down. As we went by Keith, I apologized for my boy interrupting him. "Ah, we needed the levity," he said. "It was perfect timing."

"Out of the mouths of babes," commented a former council member and current mayor of our fair city. "He knew just when to start talking."

Hmmm. Wonder where he got it?

I read this in this weekend's Indianapolis Star. Really.

For many people, mainly women, fat on legs, hips, and buttocks actually may help ward off heart disease and diabetes, recent research suggests. University of Colorado researchers reported this past week that in a study of 95 women past menopause, being bottom-heavy was linked to better scores on triglycerides and sugar levels.

"Our body of research, as well as some others, suggest that leg fat is good fat," said Rachael Van Pelt, the lead researcher on the study in The Journal of Clinical Endicrinology & Metabolism.

I would do a "happy dance" but I'm afraid it would take too many inches off my hips, butt and thighs. I'll have a celebratory cookie instead.

How long does it take for a baby to empty a Kleenex box? About 2 minutes and 15 seconds, on the first try.

kleenex box.wmv (5.41 MB)

Choose the smaller image if you're on dial-up (mom and dad). It's a smaller file.

Mark is systematically emptying the CD stand in the family room. He takes a CD case off the pile, examines it, and determines whether it's worthy of a lick or not, waves it around over his head for a minute or less, then puts it on the floor. One has remained in his lap as a "reference" item: it is a CD without its case, but in a clear sleeve. He's pretty sure he should be gnawing on it. The top of the CD has five small images of lawn jockeys and grooms in circles at intervals around the surface. Because they are round, they are to be played with. Very exciting.

He talks to some of the CDs. Apparently some are more worthy of conversation than others. With about 20 CDs on the floor, however, it's now time to abandon them for another fun item -- the venetian blind on the door to the porch. It is fixed in place at the bottom, so he can play with it, make it make its distinctive sounds when he flips the ends of the blinds, and yet not destroy.

Too bad this poor kid doesn't have any toys to play with.

It reminds me of his poor deprived mommy and his uncles with they were small, not a toy between them. (Well, maybe not...)

Mark and his parents made their first trip to the Indiana State Fair yesterday to partake in the glories of the season, and quite a day it was.

The young master began his experience with not-enough nap, but was able to rally his strength to take in all the sights -- including tanks showing the selection of fish in Indiana's streams, rivers and lakes -- as long as the wearer of the backpack (which supplied Mark's ride) didn't slow down for too long.

There was a less-than-successful side trip to view the "VOICE Xtreme Freestyle Motocross" show, featuring the Balls of Steel Stunt Team. Stop that snickering in the back row, boys, the item in question is a large steel "cage" in a spherical form. I am certain no other meaning is intended.  Unfortunately we didn't last long enough into the show to see such a spectacle, as the noise was more than the young lad could take, and tiredness was only exacerbating the issue.

We strolled through some exhibits, just as long as no one had to wait too long for mom & dad to move on, tried to sit down for a little bit (tired feet), were fortunate enough to see part of a style show in which old ladies showed off their lovely painted sweatshirts.

Finally we found something that interested the young master -- a nap, albeit brief followed by big horses running around in a ring and lots of wonderful gray-haired people all around. We saw some Percherons and some Clydesdales compete, and then we had to head home.

Mark loved watching the horses, squealing and clapping and bouncing with excitement as they did their thing (I picked the winner in both classes we saw in their entirety). Everyone around oohed and aahed about how adorable the cheering baby was. Fun was had by all. Well, fun and a pile of delicious fair food (though no deep-fried candy goods).

The Dunce, always to pick up on the latest trends, has once again done so in finding his ideal U.S. city.

Naturally, it is up to me to hurry up and do the same, lest I be "out of style". Unfortunately, what this does is tell me that I still will never see the Dunce or Mrs. Dunce even if they were to take any of the list's suggestions.

The other thing it tells me is that I'm not doing too badly on my own at finding where to live.

Without further ado, the list:

I'm not sure how parents go about raising readers in their homes, but mine did extraordinarily well, and so did Tim's... well, at least with him. (Dan's not so much of a reader but way more of an imaginer, so it's all good.) And I feel strongly that Mark be a reader too.

Perhaps we're off to a good start. The other day I caught him quietly reading a book while the world went on around him.

Please note that in the first picture, you can't see the rooster, and in the second picture, you can. This is because he was flipping the flap that covered the rooster, up and down, up and down. No rooster -- there's the rooster! No rooster -- there he is! He'd also go to the next page and open the barn doors to see the cow, then close them, then open them, happily absorbed in his wonderful book. Unfortunately, along came mommy and the camera to interrupt the play. But it was toooooo cute to pass.

Photos not included. See The Dunce or The Thief for their photo commutes.

This covers the question "Which route is best for me to get to work?"

Google maps suggests a straight shot down 38 to 32 to Allisonville Road, but I personally wish to avoid the hustle and bustle of downtown Noblesville, and have sought the best OTHER route.

Choice 1 (my current favorite):

This involves going north-northwest out of my driveway to Little Chicago Road, then straight south through the construction on LCR onto the newly aligned Hazel Dell Parkway (a.k.a. Hazel Del Ha Ha for reasons that just can't be detailed) all the way to 146th Street, then across to Allisonville and down to Conner Prairie.

Stops include 1: Buttonwood at LCR (sign); 2: LCR at 38 (light); 3: LCR/HDP at 32 (light); 4: HDP at 146th (light); 5: 146th at Allisonville (light)

Time is approximately 15 1/2 minutes. Distance, thanks to the Google Map Pedometer, is 10.36 miles. By 2 miles the longest distance, but with the fewest impediments like stoplights and other cars.

Choice 2:

This selection enjoys the sights and sounds of downtown Noblesville. I take Buttonwood South-southeast to 38, then take 38 to where it joins with 32, cross the river, then turn south on Eighth Street, thus bypassing the hubbub of downtown. Carbon Street cuts over to 10th (Allisonville), which I then take south to Conner Prairie.

Stops: 1: South Harbour Drive at 38 (light, very long); 2: 38 at Logan Street (light); 3: 38 at 32 (light); 4: 38/32 at 19 (light); 5: 38/32 at Eighth (light;) 6: Carbon at 10th (sign); 7: Allisonville at 146th (light)

Hasn't been timed. 8.33 miles

Choice 3 (has been a Wednesday night favorite because it passes Long John Silver's):

Start the same as Choice 2, heading south-southeast on Buttonwood to 38. Turn south at River Road, cross 32 (stop at LJS). Continue south on River Road, slowly winding through curves at the quarries, to 146th Street. Take 146th Street to Allisonville Road, and Allisonville to Conner Prairie.

Stops: 1: SHB at 38 (long light); 2: River Road at 32 (light); 3: Drive through at Long John Silver's (usually long, though last week amazingly quick); 4: River Road at 146th (light); 5: 146th and Allisonville (light)

Time: 17 minutes Distance: 8.6 miles

Oddly enough, the typical reverse route is choice 2, through town. Don't ask why; I don't know.

The Wednesday night reverse route, however,  skips the Carbon Street turn and takes 10th Street to downtown, past 32/38, stops alongside the street by Ericka's apartment for her to get out, then on to Logan Street to 38 (adding stops at several streets downtown and along Logan, but with the added benefit of Ericka not having to sleep at the Prairie on Wednesday nights).

Someday perhaps some photos will be included on this site especially for those who know Hazel Del Ha Ha and River Road "back when".

What use is a neighborhood pool if you never use it?

With that in mind, yesterday the boy and I got all dressed in our swim gear, blew up the new pool toy and headed to the park -- only to be greeted with an empty pool due to thunder off in the distance. I am all for safety, so I had no problem with waiting 20 minutes after the thunder to get in... except when 15 minutes into the wait, there was another rumble. We waited and played in the park and went exploring for about an hour, then played in the pool for about half an hour.

Today was sunny and hot and another perfect opportunity. After a good nap and a reasonably decent lunch (no food-spitting), we went off.

This is the new whale toy that Mark got to use today. And in the baby pool, it was amazing.

The underside of the toy has a seat for baby to "sit" in, with leg holes too small for anyone to fall through. Mark is just tall enough to stand on the floor of the baby pool and let this thing support him, and off he went! He cruised around the pool, around and around, splashing, chasing after other kids, trying to take a car away from another little boy (a four-year-old, who was a little mortified) -- mommy did make him stop. He also left his had on his head the whole time, making the above picture slightly inaccurate. (The baby looks surprisingly like Mark as is. And of course the thin and shapely mommy looks just like Mark's mommy, too.)

Imagine my surprise, however, when we're playing, cruising around the pool, having a high time, and I hear "Hi Mark!" from right behind me.

Yes, indeed, Mark has friends who recognize him. Unfortunately for Mommy, however, my recognition skills failed me. Turns out it was the sweet little boy across the street. How'm I supposed to recognize him outside of his yard?!?! He's a grade-school aged boy who really loves little kids and always talks to Mark when he's out playing in the yard and we go by. So we played with Corbin for a little while -- Corbin doing funny things trying to get Mark to laugh -- and then he and his mom had to go home. Next time I hope we'll recognize him first (very embarrassed blush).

The poor baby could hardly hold his head up on the way home, and he went off to a nap as soon as he got out of his swimsuit and swim diaper. I hope he gets a good nap -- he's gonna need it!

After a conversation with a friend recently and the revelation of deep, dark secrets, I thought I should write a blog about my own deep, dark secrets.

Then I realized the shocking truth:

I don't really have any.

I mean, there's the assorted collection of "Yes, I actually dated that person," and "Yes, I actually liked that song," and the horrifying "Yes, I owned that album -- on cassette of course -- and even sometimes still listen to it when I come across it" (Nena, 99 Luftballons). But real deep, dark secrets? My mouth is way too big for that.

Mom found out before the statute of limitations had passed that the roadtrip to Hell with my brother actually involved more than the roads being "a little slick" on the way home. I confessed to one very dear friend that sometimes I did things (back in college) just to annoy her. (I apologized for that, too. She's a terrific person and I regret the way I treated her...) I never stole anything -- not even one little candy -- and I never started a fight (though I did finish a couple, including one in fifth grade when D.J. jumped on me and started trying to hit me, in front of the teacher, no less, and I polished him off rather quickly, to the teacher's amusement, and one in a college theatre class, which ended similarly). I never hid a grade card and never cheated on a test, and never told a really really big lie. Of course, there was the lie about the thermometer (Yes, I confess, I broke it), but Mom saw through my innocent look and my denial like glass. (Maybe it was because I was four years old and hadn't taken the time to learn from the master.)

Perhaps it's a boring life not to have deep, dark secrets. Nothing to pull out at parties to make people gasp. Nothing to write about later in my tell-all memoirs. But I sort of look at it from the other side (the goody-goody side): I don't have to remember who I told what. I'm too simple to keep it all straight.

Grandma's babysitting... not for the boy, but for me. She tries her best to keep me out of trouble. And gives me a sanity break here and there while hubby is off on another fabulous vacation... or perhaps California for work.

Yesterday we visited Great Grandma with the baby, who of course worked her over a time or two. :) He has that old bird (her nickname, not me being disrespectful, in case you wondered) right in the palm of his hand. The child who screams ("That baby's scream sounds like a whistle," said the child in Perkins restaurant today) at the top of his lungs talks and laughs and carries on with nary a shriek when he's with his adoring great-grandma.

Today I ran errands while Mark stayed here with Grandma. At errand #1 I got stung by a wasp. Not the best way to start my day!!! Fortunately the druggie that I am had taken allergy meds last night so I will not lose the arm -- fortunate since it's the left arm, and I'm a lefty.

Also I got to have a (solo) stop off with friend Linda to drop off balloons and love after a surgery to help her carry her babies (plural). for those who don't know, Linda and Shawn are expecting triplets this coming winter. Triplets. Love my Mark, glad he's just one.

And we went off to Perkins tonight for dinner -- children eat free on Tuesdays at our local Perkins. Mark got his very own pizza and rice, of which he ate half. And drank a bunch of apple juice, too. The kid's a chowhound. It was while he was waiting for his order (patience is not his virtue) that the child at the table behind us made the accurate (and sort of embarrassing) observation about his dear little shriek.

tomorrow we're off to get Great-Grandma and all four of us will go over to Aunt Betty's for a nice afternoon of visiting, and then Grandma gets to stay home with Mark while I go to sewing. I have an outfit to make... for Mr. Mark. Pictures, of course, will be forthcoming, when the outfit is done and Mark wears it.