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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives</id>
  <title>Don't Hit Your Sister With The Fish</title>
  <subtitle>My life as a mom, wife, and all-around glamour girl.</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>danadrives</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2008-05-11T22:54:54Z</updated>
  <lj:journal username="danadrives" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:62065</id>
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    <title>Mother's Day Goodness</title>
    <published>2008-05-11T22:54:54Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-11T22:54:54Z</updated>
    <category term="domestic bliss"/>
    <content type="html">Did you know that the American Mother's Day started off as an activist holiday, created by Julia Ward Howe in protest of the Civil War?  The proclamation is &lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother's Day Proclamation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Arise, then, women of this day!&lt;br /&gt;    Arise, all women who have hearts,&lt;br /&gt;    Whether our baptism be of water or of tears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Say firmly:&lt;br /&gt;    "We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,&lt;br /&gt;    Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.&lt;br /&gt;    Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn&lt;br /&gt;    All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.&lt;br /&gt;    We, the women of one country, will be too tender of those of another country&lt;br /&gt;    To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    From the bosom of the devastated Earth a voice goes up with our own.&lt;br /&gt;    It says: "Disarm! Disarm! The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."&lt;br /&gt;    Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor violence indicate possession.&lt;br /&gt;    As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil at the summons of war,&lt;br /&gt;    Let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.&lt;br /&gt;    Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means&lt;br /&gt;    Whereby the great human family can live in peace,&lt;br /&gt;    Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,&lt;br /&gt;    But of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask&lt;br /&gt;    That a general congress of women without limit of nationality&lt;br /&gt;    May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient&lt;br /&gt;    And at the earliest period consistent with its objects,&lt;br /&gt;    To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,&lt;br /&gt;    The amicable settlement of international questions,&lt;br /&gt;    The great and general interests of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I however didn't spend the day protesting war.  I spent it protesting weeds- and unsightly toenails.  Now my garden is spiffy and my toenails are pink and TMOTH is putting the kids to bed after having bathed them and all is well.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:61824</id>
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    <title>Shopping</title>
    <published>2008-05-10T00:57:10Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-10T00:57:10Z</updated>
    <category term="misc"/>
    <content type="html">I'm apparently in a fairly reticent phase, blog-wise, but I went shopping today...what the hell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've worn maternity clothes because I had to.  Apparently- now- it's fashionable to wear them.  Every single thing I tried on looked like a maternity top or a maternity dress.  If I were 18 and no one would imagine that I were knocked up, I'd love the freedom of the caftan-esque, shapeless clothes that are currently all the rage.  In my world?  I put that stuff on and everyone assumes I'm due in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a happy ending, though.  After 2 hours of searching and one *very* snarky saleswoman who caught sight of the clothes on my arm and sneered "Those don't match, sweetie."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have a new pair of pants, so...mission accomplished.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:61667</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/61667.html"/>
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    <title>Making with the warm and fuzzy</title>
    <published>2008-05-05T23:26:42Z</published>
    <updated>2008-05-05T23:26:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;a href="http://blog.oregonlive.com/breakingnews/2008/04/the_best_tale_of_sportsmanship.html/"&gt;and now for something completely different&lt;/a&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:61217</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/61217.html"/>
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    <title>Silver day</title>
    <published>2008-04-27T11:19:21Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-27T11:19:21Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">Finally- some rain. It's one of those great spring rains where everything smells good. It's wicked cold, though, but not that raw fall cold. It's a great morning to skip church and lie around in my pajamas and make pancakes...and do laundry and go buy Molly some sandals and clean house and...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apparently, call a locksmith since Harry has locked the bathroom door with all of us outside of it- and now he has to go to the bathroom. Karma much?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:60947</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/60947.html"/>
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    <title>Reasons to be downright giddy...</title>
    <published>2008-04-18T22:11:44Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-18T22:11:44Z</updated>
    <category term="gardeny- goodness"/>
    <category term="lists"/>
    <content type="html">1.  There's a bran-spanking-new composter perched next to my house.&lt;br /&gt;2.  My seedlings are enormous- not even seedlings, almost full-fledged plants!  I will pot up tomorrow!&lt;br /&gt;3.  The daffs are up and blooming.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Birds birds birds&lt;br /&gt;5.  We *might* hear peepers tonight.&lt;br /&gt;6.  Harry doesn't have chicken pox.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Harry and TMOTH have school vacation next week- meaning lots of QT for the two of them.&lt;br /&gt;8.  My assistant says we just might make the budget after all.&lt;br /&gt;9.  Pizza for dinner tonight.&lt;br /&gt;10. 80 degrees today.  80!  wOOt!&lt;br /&gt;11. New Haircut&lt;br /&gt;12. Pansies&lt;br /&gt;13. My summer clothes still fit.&lt;br /&gt;14. It's April!  April!  That means NO MORE SNOW!!!!</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:60811</id>
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    <title>How I know it's spring</title>
    <published>2008-04-12T20:48:07Z</published>
    <updated>2008-04-12T20:49:22Z</updated>
    <category term="spring"/>
    <content type="html">I know it's spring because my lawn is covered with leaves.  Crocuses and tulips, too, but leaves mostly.  This is a mystery to me.  I raked the leaves last fall, snow covered the ground in 8 foot piles all winter, and now- when the snow melts- there are zillions of gooey, wet, matted leaves in the yard.  How did this happen?  Do leaves someone generate out of snow, in some sort of crazy parthenogensis?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, to stay with this theme, how is it that I can rake the aforementioned leaves for 2 hours, and then look into the yard to see the same number of leaves that were there when I started?  Somehow, I've raked, wheelbarrowed, and piled leaves for two hours, filling trash cans and bags, and yet these leaves have someone re-generated in their exact previous spots.  Really?  This is possible?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:60497</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/60497.html"/>
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    <title>F*@#NG Snow Day</title>
    <published>2008-03-28T12:32:03Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-28T12:33:04Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">Yeah- you read that right.  Snow Day.  April 28 and we've got a foot of new snow and school's canceled.  My original plan for today- stay home and nurse my bad cold so it doesn't get worse, has been thwarted by the addition of two munchkins and a TMOTH.  Just as well I suppose but dang...who would have thought we'd have a snow day at this point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That reminds me- must turn on grow light.  My poor babies will probably spend their whole plant-lives under that light, now that the next ice age is upon us...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:60255</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/60255.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=60255"/>
    <title>I think I lost my golden lasso</title>
    <published>2008-03-25T19:53:08Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-25T19:53:08Z</updated>
    <category term="misc"/>
    <content type="html">and my invisible jet seems to be in the shop for repairs.  TMOTH has been up to his hiney in lesson planning, grade cards, and general school stress, making him less than available recently.  The result is that I find myself wandering around in a daze, muttering, "laundry- no, dishes- no dinner- no, kids need baths" while accomplishing none of the above.  Today being Tuesday, I launched into Wonder Woman mode this morning, made it to the gym, to the shrink, to the grocery store, and to Target before wrapping up my day "off" with 45 minutes of library volunteering before picking Harry up.  Now?  I'm done.  My golden bracelets are scratched, I've lost my crown, and my perfectly-coiffed 'do  is limp.  I'm ready to be Diana Prince for a while.  I have time for one cup of tea (Tension Tamer- nectar of the gods in the pre-cocktail hours) before we're off to get Molly.  The weather is lovely, so that means the kiddos will want to play at her school before heading home- good for the moment, bad in the "post-arrival home" times period, since they'll be hungry as hell and I won't have had the time I usually spend to fix dinner- since I'll burn that time on the playground.  Sunny days are so rare though that I don't want to waste this one.  It's very "All Summer in a Day" around here this time of year and I'll be dammed if my kids will be the ones locked in the closet- you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;H is being evaluated once again by the Occupational Therapist, though it was a relief to meet with her and the teacher and hear the OT say that he doesn't seem to be struggling as much as the classroom teacher imagines.  Methinks his teacher doesn't know what to do with my wiggly(though I've started calling him "effervescent"), wicked smart little boy.  It's surprising to me that someone who's been at it this long would be thrown by a smart kid, but Harry can be surprising at many junctures- code for "I never know what that damn kid's going to do or say."  Today's discovery?  King Cobras.  They're BIGGER than regular Cobras! And MORE DEADLY!  And cooler all around because they could beat a Black widow or a tarantula or even GODZILLA in a fight! In 6 weeks, I'll know more about King Cobras than any grown woman should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tea's nearly gone, Molly's waiting, and I still have to put a load of laundry in.  Time to polish my bracelets and zip up my knee boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me know if you find that lasso?  Thanks.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:60028</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/60028.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=60028"/>
    <title>I know not this "Spring" of which you speak</title>
    <published>2008-03-21T12:06:09Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-21T12:06:09Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">Okay- maybe that's a fib.  We actually have a blue sky this  morning. The kids are acting like vampires- frightened by the sun streaming in through the front window.  A bird was singing this morning and Molly froze in her tracks when she heard it, turned to me very slowly, and whispered "Mama, what was that NOISE?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I defy anyone to say this hasn't been the longest, coldest, darkest freaking winter in history.  Well, since the Ice Age- that was probably longer.  Not colder, but it gets points for duration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly has a playdate this afternoon.  I'm dreading it with a fiery passion because the mom is- how can I say it?- less that chatty.  Nothing more awkward than watching your kids play (yes, kids.  Harry has to go because he has no school and I have no place to leave him) in uncomfortable silence.  The upside is that they sugar, so Molly's all excited to see the process. Harry did tons of that stuff at his pre-school, but Molly's preschool doesn't do it.  Of course, once she sees where maple syrup comes from, she'll probably decide not to eat that either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TMOTH set up the grow light last night, so my seedling babies are going to start growing like crazy...or a neighbor will see the glow and turn me in for growing pot.  Which I'm not.  Growing pot.  Not at all.  (In case law enforcement is doing searches for words like pot, marijuana, hemp...oh hell.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is?  I'm only growing flowers and vegetables.  No herb.  Well, lavender, but that doesn't count.  Just Cosmos, petunias, tomatoes, peppers...all the normal stuff.  Nothing to see here.  Move it along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry's second parent conference is this afternoon.  This is one that *he* leads.  I"m sure it will be a trip.  Especially considering that his OT/ASD conference is next friday- that's the one where they'll tell us why our kid (the one multiplying, reading words like "performance" and wondering why some eclipses make the moon blue) needs to be in Special Ed.  Nothing wrong with the system- oh no.  Just with our kid.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:59803</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/59803.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=59803"/>
    <title>The PTA is a Satanic Cult</title>
    <published>2008-03-15T19:57:17Z</published>
    <updated>2008-03-15T19:57:17Z</updated>
    <category term="kids"/>
    <content type="html">Last night I spent 2 hours sitting on the floor of the multipurpose room at Harry's school, watching Air Buddies (a classic film experience, I swear), eating cold pizza and arguing about weather Harry could actually be hungry after 3 pieces of pizza, 2 bags of popcorn, a bagel and a Capri Sun.  At the end of the evening, I concluded that the PTA is trying to destroy me- to weaken my resolve to the point that I'm open to their diabolical plan and join them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which I did- this morning at Molly's dance class when PTA mom J mentioned that they needed someone to help the fund raising chair.  Before I knew it,I'd scrawled my e-mail address on the back of a gum wrapper, entranced somehow by the notion of spending hours adding up checks and sorting out wrapping paper, bulbs (both light and flower) and chocolate sold to fund the nefarious purposes of our local chapter of Satan's Gal Pals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I came home and sewed Molly's Easter dress- totally forgetting that she has two- TWO- Easter dresses upstairs in her closet, both of which were too big last year.  Just as well, because I apparently mis-measured and the dress is big enough that Harry could wear it, should he choose to.  (Though pink polka-dots aren't really his thing.)  So now I have *next* year's Easter dress all set, thus continuing the self destructive spiral of year-to-year sewing.  And forgetting.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:59596</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/59596.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=59596"/>
    <title>Friday</title>
    <published>2008-02-29T15:16:41Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-29T15:16:41Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">and it's a balmy 0 degrees outside- up from 10 below this morning!  Yippee!  Sounds like playing outside weather to me!  And we're going to get more snow- which we *desperately* need. Really.  Honest.  Actually, I'm a little afraid to start my seeds, only to see them wither and die when I'm unable to plant them because of the remaining 18 inches of snow we're going to have in July.  H and I are going to take the kids to the dump this morning (to dump recycling, not kids- no matter how crazy they may be making us) and then to run around at the gym in order to burn off the energy that they *won't* be burning outside due to the encroaching ice age.  Imagine I'll head home this afternoon in order to welcome the returning TMOTH, fresh from his conquest of the looming peaks of New Mexico.  Or Utah.  Or wherever.  Doesn't matter so long as he's coming home to relieve me of the responsibility of keeping my children and myself alive singlehandedly.  (Case in point, Harry just informed me that his brain has a rash.  Where does someone pick up a rash like that?  Sounds like poor mental hygiene to me.)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:59273</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/59273.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=59273"/>
    <title>Day 2</title>
    <published>2008-02-28T11:48:02Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-28T11:48:02Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">The February break experience ("deathmarch" seems strong, you know?) continues.  Got up to H's last night- unbelievable, intimidating, frightening, unholy amounts of snow up here.  Seriously.  The snow is 6" higher than the ede of the porch.  In places, it reaches the trees.  It's like nuclear winter.  Or the re-glaciating of the earth.  And it's still snowing.  Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sledded, made a snow fort, threw snowballs- all the normal winter stuff- yesterday.  This morning the little boys are on the playstation first thing in the am, Molly's plugged into JoJo's Circus, and I"m thinking I"m going to pass out from exhaustion.  Note to self:  Never share a bed with a 4 year old.  They kick and squirm and take up the whole damn bed.  Thank heavens I"m up here where there are new and novel forms of entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I must fix breakfast for Molly and try to imagine a world in which I'll be funcional all day.  :::Yawn:::</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:58895</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/58895.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=58895"/>
    <title>February Break Begins</title>
    <published>2008-02-26T17:35:55Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-26T17:35:55Z</updated>
    <category term="kids"/>
    <content type="html">TMOTH left for his 40th-birthday skiing trip today at 2 am.  So now, until Saturday morning, I'm single mom.  So far, a mere 6 hours into the day, the house is a shambles, we've blown my entire weeks worth of activities, and I"m considering opening a beer to get me through.  Do you suppose that's a problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff we've done so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got up (I'm giving myself credit for everything, thank you very much)&lt;br /&gt;got dressed (ditto)&lt;br /&gt;fed everyone&lt;br /&gt;Went to Michael's to buy yarn for Grandma's care package.&lt;br /&gt;Mailed said care package&lt;br /&gt;Went to the gym (thank god for babysitting)&lt;br /&gt;Went out to lunch&lt;br /&gt;Painted pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids have appointments with the doc this afternoon- Harry can't hear out of one ear and Molly can't see out of one eye, so unless I lose my voice (thus completing the "See no evil/ hear no evil/ speak no evil" motif) we're going to have do something about it.  My theory?  Molly has my bum left eye (which I have always had limited vision in) and Harry has squirted so much water in his ears (using the squirty bath tub toys) that he's just just flooded his eardrum.  Neither is life threatening and I'm not terribly concerned- excpet that we have to go out in the looming Snowpocalypse (the 10th this winter by my count) to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post doctor, I'm figuring on make your own pizza and a movie with popcorn.  after that, I've got nothing.  I'm open to suggestions.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:58682</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/58682.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=58682"/>
    <title>My son, the poet</title>
    <published>2008-02-24T19:48:36Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-24T19:48:36Z</updated>
    <category term="kids"/>
    <content type="html">Harry's Haiku was published in his first-grade newsletter. I'm *just* lame enough to call that published.  Want to read it?  Of course you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/danadrives/pic/0001bbx0/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/danadrives/pic/0001bbx0" width="150" height="102" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragonflies  &lt;br /&gt;By Harry &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speeding through the water&lt;br /&gt;jumping up and catching bugs&lt;br /&gt;here they come swerving&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what?  I didn't know that dragonflies eat bugs.  Did you know that?  I had to look it up.  I'm choosing to believe that the lack of capitalization is an artistic choice.  Truth be told, however, I think he just didn't want to mess with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly had a birthday party this afternoon and informed me with adolescent-like snark that she didn't need me to stay.  Actually, she rolled her eyes when I asked her if she wanted me to hang around.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen- 4 is the new 16.  Wonderful.  Her gift choice, however, is very much "4"- a pair of bunny slippers and a pad of princess stickers.  I got off for under $10 on that one, making me Queen of the Birthday Party circuit.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:58484</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/58484.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=58484"/>
    <title>Garden Porn</title>
    <published>2008-02-20T22:54:43Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-20T22:54:43Z</updated>
    <category term="garden-y goodness"/>
    <content type="html">I have no words.  Just...go &lt;a href="http://lovecarrots.wordpress.com//"&gt;there&lt;/a&gt; now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:58224</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/58224.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=58224"/>
    <title>The Laundry Paradox</title>
    <published>2008-02-18T14:33:08Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-18T14:33:08Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">How is it that my family produces 3 loads of laundry between Thursday and Saturday, but only 2 loads between Sunday and Wednesday?  Who is wearing more than their share of clothing in that 3-day span?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 hour delay this morning, which means little considering that I DON'T HAVE TO WORK TODAY!! Whoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma goes to rehab today, &lt;insert obvious="obvious" amy="Amy" winehouse="Winehouse" reference="reference" here="here"&gt;.  It's a step up from the hospital, but her opinion of the move is exactly what you'd expect:  "No, no, no."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My plan for today?  Gym, Target, grocery store, toenails and  knitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, President's day.  How I love you...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:58100</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/58100.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=58100"/>
    <title>Easy like Sunday morning</title>
    <published>2008-02-17T13:37:27Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-17T13:37:27Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">The week from hell is over.  After driving a total 15 hours in the last 6 days (many of them in the icy, snowy, pre-dawn hours), the nightmare week is over.  (Insert exhausted, unenthusiastic "whoot" here)  Now all that's left is the cleaning up.  TMOTH's finally back on his feet (sort of) after the back injury to end all back injuries and the kids have entered a *lovely* stage in which they actually want to help.  (I know- who knew it was possible?  They fight over who gets to set the table, who gets to refill the water cups...I feel like I'm in the twilight zone)  Now if we can just a) avoid another snow storm and 2)dig out of the laundry nightmare that threatens to take over the house, we should be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I should do today:&lt;br /&gt;Go to church so my kids don't grow up to be Republicans&lt;br /&gt;Laundry so that we don't have to be naked tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Shopping for groceries so we can eat&lt;br /&gt;Change beds to avoid visit from DCFS&lt;br /&gt;Scrub floors (see above re: DCFS)&lt;br /&gt;Cook for the week (ditto)&lt;br /&gt;Send care package to sick grandma (sigh)&lt;br /&gt;Play with kids (see above re: Republicans)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I will probably do today:&lt;br /&gt;Laundry&lt;br /&gt;Nap&lt;br /&gt;Lie on Harry's bed and avoid playing with the kids by claiming that being in the same room *observing* their play is the same as playing with them &lt;br /&gt;Lie on Molly's bed and play "mama's napping"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I don't have to work tomorrow.  For some archaic reason, I have President's Day off.  No on else in the world has President's Day off, but apparently my ultra-liberal employers view this as our token observance of right-wing values.  I guess it's our small way of acknowledging that maybe some folks who work there might be republicans- though we shall never speak of it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:57623</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/57623.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=57623"/>
    <title>Snow Day, redux</title>
    <published>2008-02-13T13:49:49Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-13T13:49:49Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">And yet again we have no school.  It's a good thing that budgets run out on June 30, forcing school to close, or we'd be in school until August.  TMOTH is flat on his back for the 3rd?  4th?  day in a row thanks to a back injury incurred while playing basketball with guys half his age on Saturday.  He's on major meds and yet *still* is not drugged enough to agree that I need to order a 50" plasma tv for the living room.  I'm hoping to double his dose later and give it another try.  Our wonderful neighbor is currently snow-blowing the mess from our driveway, thank heavens, and the waffles are done and I'm actually drinking a second cup of coffee out of a real mug.  Life is very, very good.  Think I"m going to order my seeds today and try to figure out how to set up the nursery in the back room.  Now that Junior's gone, I can actually put my baby seedlings out without worrying they'll become kitty food.  I miss the little monster, but sometimes cat-free life isn't so bad.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:57538</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/57538.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=57538"/>
    <title>Why my daughter is going to put me in a home</title>
    <published>2008-02-09T16:37:28Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-09T16:37:28Z</updated>
    <category term="kids"/>
    <content type="html">Molly takes dance lessons.  She luuuuuves dance lessons.  Every Saturday since August, I have faithfully schlepped across town (granted, it's only a 10 minute schlep, but still...)to the studio where she takes lessons from 9:45 to 10:25.  This essentially *guts* my Saturday morning, but I do it because that's what I"m supposed to do, right?  As a dutiful, loving, post-feminist mother, I'm supposed to let her explore anything that strikes her fancy, be it stereotypical little-girl stuff or not.  Karate?  Sure, I'd be in.  Basketball?  Bring it on.  Just about anything short of Moster Truck driving or Figure 8 Trailer Racing would be okay with me.  Even at $170 a term, I'm in.  And up until this morning, so was Molly.  We have two full sets of leotard/tights/dance skirt combinations (pink and black) as well as the requisit hair hoo-haws to decorate the bun/ponytail of the day.  It's no mean feat getting ready to go, but we do it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning we got ready to return to class post- break.  Not a peep from the little princess that she was having reservations, no sign that this would be any departure from the norm- until we go there.  Then my leotard-clad princess launched herself into my arms, buried her face in my neck and refused to go in.  My instinct was to shriek "I paid $170 for these damn lessons and you'll take them and you'll like them and you'll repay me with gratitude for my sacrifice!"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This, of course, would be counterproductive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put on my best progressive-liberal-Birkenstock-wearing- Mama persona and did my best to get my kumbaya-ya on. I tried not to judge.  I helped her name her feelings and reassured her that they were okay.  I held her on my lap and we watched the class through the door.  I pointed out all the kids she knew.  I let her know she didn't *have* to take dance to make me happy, that we only came because she seemed to enjoy it.  I asked if she wanted to quit.  I reminded her that I'd love her no matter what.  I held this together for 38 minutes while we watched little girl ballet through the glass door.  Inside, I was steaming.  I was thinking of the money, the time, the other things I wanted to do this morning that I *didn't* do so I could sit on this hard floor while other mom's around me pointed out in faux-support that "this sort of thing happens all the time!  Of course, my little Lindsey/ Brittany. Bethany has always just bopped right in there, Thank God, and aren't you a saint for being so patient?  I just don't know what I"d do..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they started the "good bye" song, I gave up.  In the locker room, while taking of the full regalia, I pointed out to Molly that I was frustrated- still trying to keep my groove on- and not really happy and that I didn't want to come here every morning until June so that we could sit on the floor and watch other little girls dance.  She assured me that this wouldn't be the case, that it was just *this* morning.  (Of course, there was no apparent reason for this to be a problem today so I have no way of planning for next time.)  In my imagination, I was piling all her dance things into a bonfire in the driveway, calling the receptionist to tell her that Molly's dance tuition could go to some little girl who was more deserving, locking her in a tall tower where she could spin or make tapestries until she'd learned her lesson...but I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oh-so-mature response?  I wouldn't give her her snack in the car on the way home.  Yes, I'm that mother.  I denied my kid food because I was pissy.  (I just can't justify a juice box and a cereal bar as necessary to refuel after *sitting on my lap* for 45 minutes.)  Don't call DCF just yet- I fed her as soon as we got home.  I even popped popcorn and put extra spray butter on it.  And we debriefed yet *again*.  If I talk about another feeling today, my head will explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of all of this?  I can't do this for another 14 years.  Seriously.  I don't have the energy or the wisdom or the patience or- hell- the *desire* to dig this deep for the next 14 years.  Bleh.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:57222</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/57222.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=57222"/>
    <title>I need a lasso and an invisible jet</title>
    <published>2008-02-08T21:40:21Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-08T21:42:24Z</updated>
    <category term="writing woes and wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">Remeber when my self esteem plummeted because Ed Leadership kicked back my previously-accepted piece?  Well I'm full of ego again thanks to Kappan, my new favorite publication.  Yup, they accepted my piece today.  :::Laura does a happy dance:::  So I have to agree with &lt;a href="http://asparagusmayonnaise.blogspot.com/"&gt;Susan&lt;/a&gt; and her award to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pics.livejournal.com/danadrives/pic/00019k4x/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://pics.livejournal.com/danadrives/pic/00019k4x" width="110" height="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Give the award to those people whose blogs bring you happiness and inspiration and make you feel happy about blogland. Let them know by posting a comment on their blog so they can pass it on. Beware you may get the award several times.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tag &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='dianora2' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://dianora2.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://dianora2.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;dianora2&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='snacktime' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://snacktime.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://snacktime.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;snacktime&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='twinparadox' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://twinparadox.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://twinparadox.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;twinparadox&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.mytinykingdom.com/"&gt;Anne&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://rushingriverplacidlagoon.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tricia,&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='md1016' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://md1016.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://md1016.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;md1016&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class='ljuser' lj:user='nelsonflytyer' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://nelsonflytyer.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://nelsonflytyer.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;nelsonflytyer&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  We *all* rock- and we deserve a little sugar, metaphorically speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody know where I can get some golden bracelets?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:56855</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/56855.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=56855"/>
    <title>Snow, Coffee &amp; Baseball</title>
    <published>2008-02-07T12:47:09Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-07T13:14:16Z</updated>
    <category term="morning wisdom"/>
    <content type="html">Two-hour delay this morning. I don't think we've had a regular week of school since New Year's.  One would *think* that a two- hour delay would mean sleeping in, having a fairly leisurely a.m....which is exactly what it's been for TMOTH and Molly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry, on the other hand, crawled into my side of the bed at 6:40 pleading nightmare (code for:  I don't want to be in my room and need a snuggle) which would have been fine if "snuggle" didn't mean "wiggle around and ask questions (Mama, how big is a new kitten?  Mama, did you know yesterday was Chinese New Year?  Mama, how old do I have to be to drink coffee?) until Mama finally gets up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now we're up.  There's some snow, some sleet, some general yucky, and there's Harry playing baseball with his lunch box and building structures involving Legos and the contents of the aforementioned lunchbox (you haven't lived until you've seen a Lego- tortilla chip building.  Very structurally sound- not to mention tasty.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man oh man- there's not enough coffee in the world to keep me going today.  Suppose I should go shovel.  Whoo freakin' hoo.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:56819</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/56819.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=56819"/>
    <title>Candidate-O-Rama wrap up</title>
    <published>2008-02-06T01:19:14Z</published>
    <updated>2008-02-06T01:26:03Z</updated>
    <category term="the political process"/>
    <content type="html">So, in the spirit of the Candidate-O-Rama's final night, I tried to upload the gadget from google that would have put up a live action update of the primaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't work.  Big surprise there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I *am* willing to update my Candidate O Rama total to a whopping 205- a new high, thanks much- which I'm *certain* will be one of the top stories on MSNBC and CNN all evening.  Seriously- it's a much hotter story than the candidates.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:56379</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/56379.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=56379"/>
    <title>Snow Day</title>
    <published>2008-01-14T13:15:23Z</published>
    <updated>2008-01-14T13:15:23Z</updated>
    <category term="new england life"/>
    <content type="html">This was on my Writers Almanac yesterday.  Seemed appropriate.  We're going to spend the day digging out, playing in the snow, and baking cookies.  Thank goodness it didn't happen tomorrow- I'd never have made my flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we got home from visiting the sister and her wack=a-doodle husband (Hi Doug!) and the kids were exhausted.  Actual exchange between Molly and TMOTH:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly:  What are you eating Daddy?&lt;br /&gt;TMOTH:  (Holding a bowl of ice cream with chocolate sauce)  What does it look like I"m eating?&lt;br /&gt;Molly:  Hmmmm...Yogurt?&lt;br /&gt;TMOTH:  Good guess.  Try again?&lt;br /&gt;Molly:  (Long Pause)  Tuna Fish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Too Much Snow" by Louis Jenkins, from Just Above Water © Holy Cow Press!, 1997. Reprinted with permission. (buy now) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too Much Snow &lt;br /&gt;Unlike the Eskimos we only have one word for snow but we have a lot of&lt;br /&gt;modifiers for that word. There is too much snow, which, unlike rain,does not&lt;br /&gt;immediately run off. It falls and stays for months. Someone wished for this&lt;br /&gt;snow. Someone got a deal, five cents on the dollar, and spent the entire family&lt;br /&gt;fortune. It's the simple solution, it covers everything. We are never&lt;br /&gt;satisfied&lt;br /&gt;with the arrangement of the snow so we spend hours moving the snow from&lt;br /&gt;one &lt;br /&gt;place to another. Too much snow. I box it up and send it to family and&lt;br /&gt;friends.&lt;br /&gt;I send a big box to my cousin in California. I send a small box to my &lt;br /&gt;mother.&lt;br /&gt;She writes "Don't send so much. I'm all alone now. I'll never be able to use so&lt;br /&gt;much." To you I send a single snowflake, beautiful, complex anddelicate; &lt;br /&gt;different from all the others.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:56203</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/56203.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=56203"/>
    <title>I haven't slept since aught-seven</title>
    <published>2008-01-10T17:04:00Z</published>
    <updated>2008-01-10T17:04:00Z</updated>
    <category term="kids"/>
    <content type="html">I know that sleep issues are mundane, trite, over-discussed and impossible to solve, but holy squash, if I don't get some sleep soon I'm not going to be responsible for my actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly has always been persnickity.  She's picky about food, clothes, whatever- and usually we can work with it- it's just the way M rolls, you know?  But she hasn't slept since New Year's Eve- at least not for more than about 2 hours at a pop.  She's very clear about what she wants.  She wants to "not sleep."  I know 4's do this stuff- but usually the power struggle is over food or clothes or baths- not sleep.  I mean, I could get the whole idea of wanting a nightlight (which she has) or to sleep with us (which she wants to do but will not do while there is breath in my body)- but to reject the entire concept of sleep as something she simply chooses not to do?  Really?  This is a thing people actually do?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm flummoxed.  I've talked to the pediatrician (no good advice accept to wait it out) and my shrink (who reassured me that eventually she would sleep and that I just needed to keep my head together until she did), but none of them have offered much real support in the way of "here's how to fix this problem."  And that's where I am- I need this problem fixed and I need it fixed now.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So each night goes like this- Molly goes down about 7:30, begs me to "check on her" when I'm done putting Harry down, which I do.  She's always asleep at that point.  At 9:30 or so, she calls for me and accuses me (with the kind of righteous indignation only a 4-year-old can muster) of "not checking on her."  (It has now become apparent that "check on me" means "stand in my room and stare at me on the off chance I wake up.")  I settle her back down, and we repeat the dance at 2 hour intervals until 6 am.  Each awake period lasts approximately 72 hours.  (Okay, maybe 30- 45 minutes)  During those periods she (and I) become increasingly irrational and demanding- which is to be expected when one has started channeling a zombie.  Zombie's aren't big with the higher-order thinking either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the interest of fairness, TMOTH has been trying to do his part, but he's a second grade teacher and the results of his sleep deprivation are much gnarlier than mine in terms of potential workplace disasater.  Still, he's been up dealing with cranky girl at least as much- if not more than I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if you've got sleep vibes, pass 'em along.  Now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:danadrives:55854</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/55854.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://danadrives.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=55854"/>
    <title>Primary</title>
    <published>2008-01-09T03:15:14Z</published>
    <updated>2008-01-09T03:15:14Z</updated>
    <category term="the political process"/>
    <content type="html">Today has been a wild ride of the sort that you can only imagine if you live in NH.  Seriously.  In the last 48 hours we've had billions of phone calls, and about 10 staffers show up at the door.  If I weren't so exhausted, I'd declare myself officially over the top on my candidate-o-rama total, but I'm wiped.  Too many papers to grade, too much work, still buried from the holiday trip to fly-over country and the most I can manage is the less-than-witty I'm bringing to this post.  As a substitute for actual thought, I offer this list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nifty things about living in NH today:&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful blue sky&lt;br /&gt;Hearing a national newscaster refer to the weather as "surprisingly bearable"&lt;br /&gt;Yard signs sprouting like the new state flower along all the roads&lt;br /&gt;Staffers standing on every single corner, waving signs and smiling like lunatics at passing cars&lt;br /&gt;Media people everywhere, doubling the size of my little town&lt;br /&gt;Middle School kids downtown, taking straw polls for their math classes&lt;br /&gt;My four year old knows what the words "primary," "candidate," "nominee," and "party" mean. (Though I think she believes that Barack, Hills, and John get together to drink tea...)&lt;br /&gt;Being such an integral part of the political process when there's an actual, real race happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must sleep.  Must stop surfing CNN and WMUR and turn off the TV and go to bed.  Must sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more check on the results and then I'm going to bed.</content>
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