Jami's Friday Feast

Feast 150 Appetizer How many pieces of jewelry do you wear most days? I always wear my wedding ring set, almost always my italian charm bracelet and during the summer I usually wear an anklet. Often I wear I necklace, but I'll stick with 2-3 for most days. Soup What is your favorite instrumental song? Okay, I'm a huge dork, but probably the fantastic orchestral version of Dancing Queen on the Muriel's Wedding soundtrack. That or Duel of the Fates, which I guess might not count because it does have words. Salad Who has a last name that you like? Hmm, I don't know. I don't really have a favorite last name, I guess. Main Course Name a popular movie you’ve never seen. The last two Matrix movies. I kept hearing how bad they were, so I didn't see them. Dessert Fill in the blank: Nothing makes me ___________ like ____________. Nothing makes me cringe like professional people using poor grammar.

Jami Takes It Easy

Well, folks, I'm on vacation. I had planned to blog more while here, since the cottage we have at this little beach was advertised as having wireless connection, which is sort of true. I'd considered the idea of writing a post, going to the single corner of our space where we get connection, weak and unreliable though it might be, and quickly pasting it, but that seemed like too much work for vacation time. We are at the beach - and Eddie's in toddler heaven. Not only does he have access to sand, toys and snacks, but he's basically got the undivided attention of 5 adults (the Husband, me, my parents and my grandmother). He's going to be sorely disappointed next week when he is stuck back with just me, and I don't attend to his every whim. As much as I love the beach, I am becoming almost sun-phobic. Being the whitest white girl in the history of the planet, I burn much too fast and then spend days in constant pain or at least uncomfortableness. I hate that. I've spent most of the time on the beach huddling under the umbrella, reading my books. I've read I Love You, Beth Cooper, by Simpsons writer Larry Doyle and enjoyed that quite a bit. I'm about 2/3 through Island of the Lost by by Joan Druett, the true story of one island where two ships wrecked within few months of each other, without knowing the others were there. One group did exceedingly well, the other, well, didn't. I've also just started The Cat-Napping another Bertie and Jeeves novel by the always hilarious P.G. Wodehouse, and if you haven't read any, do pick one up. We've been to the zoo - good fun. I haven't taken many pictures, as again, it seems like work, but I promise, I'll get to some and post a few. Happy whatever day today is to you, having a great time, wish you were here!

Friday Feast

Wow, Friday already! This week has flown by! Feast 149 Appetizer Name a funny habit you have. I look into the mailbox before I reach in, in case of posionous snakes/spiders. Soup If you could instantly know how to play a musical instrument, which one would you pick? Guitar. I'd love to be able to just pick up a guitar and play, but I don't have the time, money or desire to really work at it and learn. Salad How long is your hair? A bit past my shoulders. When it's wet, it goes almost half-way down my back (boingy curls) Main Course When was the last time you forgave someone, and who was it? I am sure I've forgiven the Husband for some already forgotten minor infraction in the past week or so. If you read my posts this week about my second best friend (here and here) I think that I had mostly forgiven her, but there may have still been some unforgiveness lurking in the depths of my soul until recently. Dessert What is your favorite kitchen appliance? Crock-Pot. Hands down. Love that thing. After that, I'd have to say the toaster oven, rotisserie, pressure cooker and of course, bread machine.

Jami Discusses Family Planning

Today I'd like to discuss an aspect of family planning that you may not have given any thought to, but I feel is extremely important: planning your children's birth months so that their birthstones don't clash. Eddie is an August baby, that means he's a peridot. It's a lovely light green stone, looks great in both gold and white gold settings (I have both). But, should I have another child, I will want to ensure that I can get jewelry with both of their birthstones incorporated, in an attractive way. To that end, I need to avoid red or orange for sure, which rules out January, July and November babies. December is turquoise, I just don't think that'd look right. I think we'd probably be okay with February (amethyst) but I'd have to see them together. May (emerald) would be great. My brother and his wife's first is April - that's diamond, good choice for a first kid, because really, diamonds go with anything. One of my friends had all her babies in the same month, hard for birthday parties, yes, but great for jewelry. One friend had two September babies; an excellent choice both because sapphires are pretty and because all the coolest people are born in September. Another friend has three children, all lovely little kids, but born in May, November and December - can you picture the ring with an emerald, topaz and turquoise? Garish! All I'm saying is that for your first, choose a month like April, June (pearl) or October (opal), allowing a wider choice for future children. After that, try to plan your pregnancies wisely, and remember, you can always have a planned c-section early if you need to have the baby before the end of a certain month. Your doctor will understand, if she's a woman.

Jami's List of Songs That Are NOT Romantic

EDW wrote this post in honor of Fathers' Day about father/child songs. In the comments, someone mentioned Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely?" which he wrote for his daughter when she was a newborn. It reminded me of the episode of Scrubs in which a couple mentions that this is "their song". It's one of those songs people don't really listen to, and just assume is a love song because they know the one line of the chorus and it's kind of slow. It might be a daddy-daughter love song, but it's not a "love song" in the traditional sense. Which brings me to my main point - there are songs which should not ever be "your song". Oh, and as a side note, when I was looking up the complete lyrics to "Isn't She Lovely?" I found a blog that I will not link to because don't want to embarrass the poor girl who wrote "This song is so romantic it brings tears to my eyes and makes me want to plan my wedding to a guy I haven't even met yet." Sigh. "Every Breath You Take" by the Police. Ah, the many, many times at high school dances when this song would be sent out from one love-struck teen to another. Problem? Yes. This is not a romantic song. It's a song about stalking. The message of this song is, "Just so you know, I'll be stalking you." The complete lyrics are here, but here's a taste: "can't you see, you belong to me?" This is not romantic. Someone who will be watching you, whatever you do forever: not romantic. And the updated one is about mourning someone who died. "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston (or the original by Dolly Parton, which I prefer). I have actually been to two weddings where the couple used this as their first dance song, and I would know they had not actually listened to it beforehand. How can you choose a song you don't even know the lyrics to?? Yes, she will always love you, but she's leaving you! Not a good wedding theme, unless you are Britney Spears's first husband. That would have been appropriate. "If I stay, I would only be in your way. So goodbye, please don't cry; we both know I'm not what you need." Sound like a good marriage starter? complete lyrics here. "Another Day in Paradise" by Phil Collins. People, I know it says something about "another day for you and me in paradise", which sounds all nice and romantic, but this song is about a homeless woman suffering on the street. Not at all something I like to slow dance to. I actually couldn't believe this song is ever played at (what should be) happy occasions like weddings, dances and clubs. Read the full set of depressing lyrics here. "Friends and Lovers" by Gloria Loring. This is an older one, maybe you don't even know it. It was big "in my day", and it's basically a song for what is euphemistically called Friends with Benefits, if you know what I mean. It's may seem like she's saying that her lover is her best friend, but really, it's more like we don't have to be boyfriend-girlfriend, we'll just make out and see how it goes. "Follow Me" by Uncle Cracker. Seriously, folks, read the lyrics. This guy is trying to convince a woman to cheat on her husband with him, and he's not planning on sticking around anyway. Nice, hunh? The chorus sounds great, it's fun to sing, but "our song"? Um. No. One woman told me that she and her husband loved this song, "until we learned it all." I'm sure I missed some, feel free to add your favorite not-a-love-song song.

Jami's Slightly Late Father's Day Post

Here's the post I should have written on Father's Day, but I hadn't given it much thought and it is indeed a topic that shouldn't be covered lightly. I could have written about how important fathers are to children in general, like how the drug use, drop out, teen pregnancy and suicide rates are higher for children who don't have an involved father. I could talk about how it is easy to biologically create a child, but much harder to actually father one. But I won't . . . Instead, let me tell you that I am financially careful because my father taught us the value of money. I am confident because my father told me that I am beautiful. I am a hard worker because my father never called off sick until he was so sick he could barely make the call. I love history because my father shared that love with my brother and me. I have a fantastic husband because my father taught me how to a man should act and treat me, and that I was worthy not settling for anything less. And I definitely have his love of a good story and sense of humor. Also I got his bad teeth, but that's not his fault. My son is named after two great Daddies who bore the name Edward: one is mine, one is my mother-in-law's. I am proud to have my son carry on the legacy of these men, especially on Father's Day. And finally, a story: I don't know where my mom and brother were that night, maybe at some Boy Scout function or maybe each out somewhere else. Leftovers waited for us in the fridge, which I appreciate the value of now, but hated at the time. It might have been spring, maybe fall, cool and rainy. My dad asked me if he should warm the leftovers. I suggested we "forget" about the leftovers and go to KFC, maybe get a movie, really having no hope of that. My dad shut the fridge and said "let's go!" I don't remember what movie we got. I just remember eating KFC, in the family room, in front of the TV, alone with my Daddy. We chatted and he let me have both drumsticks. It was a great night. Happy (Belated) Father's Day, Daddy! Love you lots.

Jami's Second Best Friend, the Revelation Part

Part one is here if you missed it. This is a loooong story, boys and girls.

So here we are - 18 years later. I lived my life, made a new best friend, a much, much better one. I forgave Leah in my heart, I really truly did. I decided that she was a horrible person, partially of her parents' making and that I'd let her take advantage of me to some extent. In less than a year, I wasn't even mad at her anymore.

Every now and then I think of her, Google her name (too common and if she's married, I don't know her new name), wonder how she is. But always still think that even if I knew, I'd have nothing to say to her.

Last week, I was listening to talk radio and a totally unrelated topic, but something hit me. Hit me so hard I put down the dish I'd been putting away and just stared off into space. Leah wasn't so much a horrible person, as a person who must have been hurting horribly. How much did she dislike herself to make up stories to sound better to the one person in the world who already adored her? How scared was she of losing my friendship that she told unbelievable tales to convince me she was cool? Looking back, I realized she never, never mentioned any new friends at her new schools. Could she have been that unpopular - possibly, she did come off as weird at first (never bothered me, of course). All those boys asking her out - if that had been true, why jump on (possibly literally) my ex, who was not especially hot or talented or even cool? Had she risked our friendship on the first guy who'd shown interest? Looking back, I'd bet she did. She lost, though, she crossed the threshold I couldn't forgive, but she still reached out to me after. I may have been the wronged party in this case, but she was injured one. Not by me, but by circumstances or her life, or whatever. Years later I heard through the grapevine that she got pregnant and dropped out of high school. I hope that's not true, but I can easily see it now. How painful is a life, if you believe that friendship means mutual using of each other? And how did I miss it then?

I'd already forgiven her for the choices she made. Now, I ache for the scared, hurting lonely child she must have been. I'd been so jealous of her - but I had the things she really wanted - friends, a sibling, a boyfriend (even if he'd broken my heart) and most of all, she had to have seen that I really loved myself. I have always been happy being me. I wonder if she didn't spend all that time with me trying to figure out how to do that. Sorry, Leah, I just didn't know.

Jami's Second Best Friend

I had a revelation last week, about a friendship that has been over more than 18 years. But before I can tell you the revelation, I have to tell you the story. It's about the second best friend I had. Not my second-best friend, my second "best friend".

My first-ever best friend was Lori who lived next door since I was three. Best friends because of proximity, really. Then school started and one day, when we were in second grade, Lori said to me "You know, we're not best friends anymore. I'm best friends with Monica now." I hadn't known. I tried to talk her into being my best friend again, but it was not to be. They were in dance and softball together, I was in neither. I needed a new best friend. And I got "Leah" (not her real name, to be nice). Leah didn't have a best friend at the time, she wasn't in dance, or softball or the other big activity, Girl Scouts. Oh, she did about a month in GS, but it wasn't her.

Leah was brave. She played at recess with no apparent fear of falling or looking ridiculous. She stood up to bullies, male and female. One in particular, a girl I secretly called "Ape Face" (because of an unfortunate protruding jaw and large forehead combination), had given me some trouble. Ape Face tried to bully her, but Leah not only didn't cry, she told her off. When Ape Face took a swing at her, Leah grabbed her arm and clawed her up so much that Ape Face was sent to the nurse, and Leah to the principal. Leah liked me and I was fascinated by her. A somewhat spoiled, very adored only child, Leah knew lots more about "the world" than I did, and her family had cable and a VCR. How lucky I felt to have her as a best friend.

Disaster struck again in third grade. As we sat on the curb one day at recess, Leah dropped a bomb - her parents told her they were moving to New York. Since their family all lived here in Pittsburgh, she'd come back every Christmas break and for a whole month in the summer. We could write and her parents would let her call now and then. We could still be best friends. I don't know if it's because I liked her so much or that by then all the "good" best friends were taken or that I'd started to be a little more independent and didn't need a best friend in the same way the other girls seemed to, but that's exactly what happened. I had a long-distance best friend. We wrote once or twice a month, she called now and then and we got to spend all of Christmas Break and one whole month each summer hanging out.

As we got older, Leah seemed leaps and bounds ahead of me in all areas, except scholastically. Her letters and calls contained fabulous stories of the things she'd done and seen. When we hit junior high, she had tales of the boys who adored her, so many she'd had to turn scads of them down. She'd been to wonderful places, attended the concerts of all the bands we liked, sampled exotic cuisine, shopped for clothing with designer names I'd never heard before (I never even owned real Jordaches, I don't think.) It never occurred to me that Leah might have been lying. Later, her adventures became even more outrageous: she claimed to have gotten backstage passes to our favorite band - they liked her so much they still called her every so often and when they were in town, took her out to breakfast. While in Europe, she accidentally got on a train instead of the subway and ended up in a different country, where she a European offered to buy her "American socks" for enough money to get back to her parents. At that point I did start asking a few questions, probably in a skeptical tone and she seemed so hurt that I'd doubt her, my own best friend, that I let it drop. Why would she lie? After all, we were best friends. Even in 8th grade, with tons of new friends and in a great youth group, I was terrified to lose my "best friend" so I always agreed with her, let her talk me into a few things that were not the best idea, but not dangerous, and just went along with what she said.

In an Amy Tan novel, one of the characters says something along the lines of "this is where our friendship took four splits and five cracks". I've always loved that line. Our friendship took four splits and five cracks on the night of New Year's Eve, 1989. We were in 9th grade, and going to a party at a friend's house. Leah and I went, and at her insistence, the boyfriend who had dumped me rather ignominiously the year before. They'd become friends during her visits and before he and I dated. The party turned out to be a dud, none of the friends we expected to be there were, just kids we sort-of knew and didn't really like. Leah had the idea to go to her uncle's house and party with her family, if we could get a ride there. I called my mom, who insisted, rather uncooly I thought, that I stay at the party, so she'd know where I was and that I hadn't been hit by a drunk driver, plus, she didn't know the uncle. I broke the news to Leah and the ex. It didn't even phase them. Leah called her parents, he called his and the next thing I knew, I was alone at a party with people I didn't like.

The next afternoon I called Leah to have her mom tell me she wasn't up yet. I waited for my apology the entire day. And the next. Then I called again, and was told that Leah and her family had gone back home. No apology. Not even a goodbye.

I sent her a long heartfelt letter. Maybe she didn't know how hurt I'd been that she left. Maybe she thought I didn't mind if she left me there. Maybe she was too embarrassed to talk to me and just needed to know I'd forgive her. A few days later, the phone rang - oh joy! It was Leah!

She couldn't believe how uncool I was being about this. What was the meaning of this letter? I was mad at her?? As her best friend, didn't I want her to be happy? She'd been too unhappy at the party, and going off with the ex, well, that made her happy, how could I be selfish enough to expect them to stay? Oh, and she was kinda-sorta going out with him, but I was over him, right? I poured out my hurt and outrage. I ended my rant with "And you know what, I bet all this time, you've just been using me. Using me so you don't have to be bored and alone when you're here." Her reply, in the iciest voice I'd ever heard: "Of course, I have. That's what friends do. They use each other." I hung up. I never spoke to her again.

She did write me a couple of times, maybe forgetting we weren't friends anymore? Once I got a postcard from a mental hospital, unsigned, which said something like "This is in crayon because if you try to kill yourself, you don't get to have sharp objects, even pencils. How are you? I am fine." From the postmark, I guessed it was her. She continued "dating" my ex when she was in town. I think she became the same kind of curse on him that she'd been on me. He and I made our peace in high school, but I never asked about her. I couldn't bring myself to care again.

S0, now that the whole saga is spilled forth, what's the revelation? Hmm, this has gotten so long, how about if I get into that tomorrow?

Friday Feast

Feast 148 Appetizer Fill in the blank: The best thing about where I live is _________________… the small town feel with all the benefits of a big city. Also, Peppi's #7s. Soup Create a new name for a deodorant (like “Flower Fresh” or “Shower Scent”). I was thinking about this the other day. I want "Chocolate Chip Cookie" deodorant. Everyone would love me. Salad What was the last piece of software you installed onto your computer? I just got a new wireless card, so the software that came with that. Main Course If you were to receive a superlative award today beginning with the words ”Most likely to…”, what would the rest of the phrase say? Most Likely To Nap Without Notice Dessert What two colors do you like to wear together? Two colors?? At the SAME TIME?? Black and not black.

Jami's Looking (Way, Way, Way) Ahead

I'm not a great housekeeper. Mostly it's due to the fact that I don't mind clutter and that I'm lazy. Also, I hate to do stuff that I know I'm just going to have to do again in a couple days. So, while I keep a fairly clean house, it's rarely neat. And I'm not good at those stupid things that don't occur to me all the time, like dusting the tops of the door frames. I can't see them, we don't eat or play there, who cares? But recently I've seen a definite benefit to this, and not for me. For my future daughter-in-law. See, some of my friends have husbands who expect ridiculous acts of housekeepery, because, apparently, their mothers had super-high standards of clean. One woman recently told me that her husband was aghast that she had not dusted their baseboards in "at least two weeks." Of course, they have a small child and she also works part-time and does 100% of the housework, cleaning and childcare. But surely, she has time to dust the baseboards; his mother did it every week. My daughter-in-law will never have this argument. Raised in this house, Eddie will be thrilled, possibly to tears, if she dusts the baseboards more than 3 times a year. He'll never expect to come home to an immaculately just-dusted and vacuumed home with no toys on the floor. He won't believe that laundry goes magically from the floor to being clean in his dresser - he already knows that clean laundry requires at least a 1 day waiting period in the basket in the hallway. See, I'm not lousy at housekeeping, I'm helping strengthening my son's future marriage. You're welcome, Future Daughter-in-Law.

Jami Needs Geek Help

Normally I'm a big enough geek all by myself, but here's the thing: I need an MP3 player. Long story short, I have a nice collection of birthday/Christmas moola and in about a month I'm going to have enough points on a website I click through to ads on to get a $50 gift certificate to a variety of stores and I want to join the 21st Century. But I don't know a thing about them. I can barely spell MP3. The iPods sure look cool. I need your help. I know at least 75% of you know more about this than I do. What I'm looking for is:

1. Enough memory, or the capability to add more, so that I can put, I don't know, a few hours worth of music as well as a couple podcasts I'd like to get.
2. Durability - I don't plan to buy one of these every year, or every two years. I still have my CD walkman my husband bought me as a gift about 8 years ago and it's still working. That's what I'm talking about
3. A good "first" one. I'm fairly tech-savvy and I'm not afraid to read a user manual. I'm great with figuring out stuff as long as it's not ridiculously complicated. So, I need one that I can read/figure out, or one that if I get stuck, you'll help me figure out.
4. Value for the money. I'm not cheap, and I don't mind paying a little more if it's really a better product.

Do I need video? Probably don't need it, but maybe you can talk me into or out of it, if you know about that.

So what'd'ya say folks - what should I get? Help!

Jami Complains Briefly About the Husband

When a friend decided to start dating after an unpleasant divorce, his pastor suggested that he create a list of the things he wanted in a potential spouse and things that were "deal breakers". He'd asked me to help with the list, feeling that I could articulate his feelings better and also because I love lists. Incidentally, and not at all related to this post, but it made me laugh, when I said "Okay, let's start with the one thing that you think caused the biggest problem in your marriage." He said "Oh, in that case put down 'Will have sex with me'. Make that Number One and write it in capitals." Poor guy. We've lost touch, but I heard he got remarried and I hope she fits the list. Anyway, the problem I had with the whole idea of the list is that sure, you can get the big stuff: religion, child-rearing, life goals, non-smoker. But it's the little things that you just can't predict that end up being the things that make you crazy. I'm not saying they're marriage-enders, just they're the things that make you want to bop your beloved with a couch cushion. The Husband is a great guy. Totally perfect for me and if I'd have made a list, he'd have met each one - except maybe loves to dance, but I can live with that. He's also probably the only sane, straight man on the planet who has lived for more than 10 years with my particular collection of quirks (which I call "personality") and still says to himself "Yup, that's what I want." So I don't want you to think I'm complaining about him. But you know, I am. Just a little. The man is the loudest snack food eater ever. As you know, I love movies and TV, and I especially enjoy it with the Husband, until he gets that hungry look. Then, it's CRINKLE, CRINKLE, CRINKLE, CRUNCH, CRUNCH, CRINKLE, repeat. Take pretzels. He can't just get a handful out of the bag and eat them. No, no. He has to remove each pretzel (or pretzel fragment) from the bag individually, and only after rooting around in the bag, apparently to choose the exact right pretzel. And, for some reason, this is most likely to occur at the time in the show when the dialogue is both quiet and important. He's lucky we have TiVo (for the 8 second skip-back button) or he might already be hospitalized with a pretzel bag somehow embedded in his skull. No jury would convict, it would go like this: My defense attorney: I'd like to play this episode of Lost for the jury. Jami, please indicate at what point your husband's snacking interfered with your ability to hear by shaking this tambourine. Just as a major secret is revealed, I shake the tambourine, covering the revelation Jury: Boooo! DA: Oh, we had no idea. Judge, we dismiss all charges with our apologies. Jury: YAY! Denny Crane: Denny Crane! *** I used to think that at the movies, he chewed the popcorn with his mouth open. It's that loud. But no, it's worse. I watched it carefully last week when his popcorn-noises filled the theatre during an otherwise silent part of the film. First, he roots around in the bucket/bag until he has what must be the exact right combination of popcorn kernels. Then, he lifts the collection of popcorn to his mouth, and does he stuff it all in? No. Does he put a few pieces into his mouth? No. He bites through the entire handful, basically "crraaaack"ing each individual piece in half as he goes, THEN he closes his mouth and chews. He bites popcorn in half! For no good reason??? Why? WHY? He has no answer, just "That's how I've always done it." Sigh. I mean, I love the guy, but really. I, of course, use the silent but odd-looking "lizard-style" method of eating popcorn, wherein I take a handful (the first handful on top, no digging) then lift it near my face and let my tongue sneak out and grab one. When I realized I did this, I perfected doing it fairly close to my mouth and subtly enough that you really have to pay attention to see that I'm doing it. So, you see, I'm not saying anyone should be normal. Just keep the weirdness quiet when I'm watching TV.

Friday Feast

Feast 147 Appetizer What do you consider to be the ultimate snack food? Hot soft pretzels. You can eat them plain (with salt, I mean, not nekkid) or dip in melted cheese. You can bake them with cinnamon sugar. You can brush them with garlic butter. Without the extras they are low fat. Chewy and delicious, you can buy them frozen and heat them in the microwave in less than a minute. I eat about 4-5 a week. Soup On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 as highest), about how popular is your last name? probably about a 4. Not super-popular, but not rare. Salad Who is your all-time favorite sitcom character, and why? Dang, that's tough. I love Ralphie Wiggam on the Simpsons - he's so wonderfully innocent and sweet, and a little off. Dr. Cox on Scrubs - tough, blunt, jaded, but a good guy deep down. Way, way deep down. Main Course Do you shop online? If so, name some sites you like to browse for goodies. I shop almost exclusively online. I hate stores and, you know, people. I like Amazon (duh), Woot - even though I forget to check it a lot. 800.com Cafe Press. Dessert Fill in the blank: I think ___________ should be ___________. I think the world should be taking my advice.

Jami Rambles a Bit

I cleaned the fridge today. It's one of those chores I don't really mind, as long as I can wear gloves so I don't break all my nails off. I love the way the fridge looks bright and fresh when I'm done. I can't tell you how satisfying it was earlier this year when the refrigerator repair guy said "You have the cleanest fridge I've ever seen!" Yes I do! Yay clean fridge! I also like putting laundry out on the line, which I did today as well. It looks so colorful and happy, all the shirts and pants flapping in the wind with the sun shining down on them. Something about laundry hanging on a clothesline says "This family is loved and cared for." Also I'm sort of on the cheap side, so the sun drying the laundry looks like a smaller gas bill to me. I don't hang out our underwear, though, because I don't think our neighbors want to see it. And if they do, then I really don't want to have it out. The stupid ants are back on the patio. To prove to me that they have less brains than even I gave them credit for, they rebuilt on what basically would be the next door of the ant world. Hmm, that monster destroyed our home and killed a large portion of our relatives, so let's go, uhhhh, right here! The Monster will never find us here, in plain sight of our last home. Armageddon rained down on them once again and I wonder if they had shocked expressions on their little ant faces. Our ceiling fan is set to draw the air up - is that right? I can never remember which way for which season. On one hand, it's drawing the cooler air from the floor up, so that it mixes more. On the other, it's not blowing down on us, you know, in a feel-the-breeze kinda way. We could really see how it works today when Eddie was blowing bubbles and you could follow their progress up, up, up then out to the sides and drifting back down. It was cool.

Jami Goes to the Movies

I love going to the movies, but it's a love-hate kinda thing. I love the big dark theatre, the sound, the buttery popcorn and bucket of soda. I hate the usual things - the people who talk or use their cell phones, the actual commercials (not trailers, I love trailers), the fact that I can't pause the movie to take a potty break. But mostly I love movies. I love stories: hearing them, telling them, retelling them. Since the Husband doesn't work the traditional M-F 9-5, we get to go to the theatres at "off-times" like a Wednesday afternoon. We saw the third Pirates movie which I loved. Much better than 2, with nice complex plots and twists and a good ending, that could have been sappy and dumb, but instead was just right. Even better than a story is a story with a "just right" ending. Good movies can be totally ruined by a sucky ending, I'm talking to you Blazing Saddles and Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail. A movie's ending isn't just, well, when it ends, it's that last bite of sandwich you saved while eating your fries so that you can finish with the taste of sandwich in your mouth. The last Pirates movie, while not great overall, is still a fine example of a good ending. Great endings should both wrap up the story lines, yes, ALL of them, to some extent, don't just forget about something that wasn't going anywhere. If it was a red herring at least give us a clue to that effect. They don't need to end with "And we lived happily ever after" but there should be a hint of how the rest of eternity goes - even if you're planning a sequel, make this movie end. And a movie ending doesn't have to be happy. Just saying. I especially like if I don't see it coming. My favorite movie ending, at the moment, would have to be 40-Year-Old Virgin, which (if you haven't seen it, hope I'm not wrecking it for you) ends with a giant musical dance number to the Age of Aquarius. Sure didn't see that coming, but it fit the tone of the movie, it wrapped up what had been going on and it was just plain fun. Good ending. Return of the Jedi ends a trilogy very satisfactorily. Drop Dead Gorgeous perfectly wraps up a plot which I thought had painted itself into a no-win corner. Go see it, if you haven't, and be prepared to laugh so hard you have to pause it. To wrap up my post on movie endings, let me ask you - what movies end just right? Which took a sharp turn into wrong before the credits rolled?

Jami Shakes It Up

Generally, I steer away from the controversial, since I most write here just for fun. Also, while I never mind a good fight, I don't need to upset people for fun. But, man, do I have to mention this one. On the Today Show, which I still catch parts of in the morning, they were featuring an author who wrote about about nannies. I'm not going to put the title or author's name here, because it's not important. The first mother they were interviewing said, "Well, it's kind of scary when you think about it, I mean, you're hiring a complete stranger to come into your house and spend the entire day alone with your home and all your possessions . . . . and your child." Oh good, you remembered your kid. The point of the book, according to what I was hearing from the author, is that you have to keep in mind that when you pick a nanny, she will know more about child-rearing than you, and she'll end up knowing your child better than you and you shouldn't be upset if your toddler calls her mommy and prefers to spend time with her. Also, because your nanny will probably be from another culture, you should try to help her understand that just because you don't spend much time with your children, doesn't mean you're not parenting. Explain that you are doing your best. This is a paraphrase, but here's a good quote "Many nannies at first are shocked that we don't eat meals with our children, for example. Or that when we go away for a week and bring back trinkets from the airport, it might not be what they are used to, but we're doing our best." No. No, I don't accept that. Call me a right-wing, anti-feminist nutball if you want, but if this is true of you - if you never eat a meal with your child, if you leave them with strangers for weeks at a time and "make up for it" by bringing them crap from the airport stores, you are NOT doing your best as a mommy and if that is your best, you shouldn't have had kids to start with. I'm not talking about the women who find themselves in a position where they have no choice but to work and are barely making ends meet as it is. If you can afford a full-time nanny, you can damn well afford not to work or to work few enough hours that you can eat dinner with your kids. You should be heart-broken if your child is calling someone else mommy, especially if they are doing it because they barely recognize you. Especially if you're working because you don't want to give up your designer crap or because you "need to feel useful". Raising a child - that's the most useful, important thing you can do. Mommying is hard work, don't I know it! Budgeting is hard and a real buzz-kill. Talking to a toddler all day makes going to work sound like a shining Valhalla where no one is sticky and crying is rare. But I wouldn't trade being home with my son for something as common as money, to paraphrase Grandpa George in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Children aren't accessories, to be dressed up and shown off. If you and your spouse are missing more than 50% of your child's waking hours (because they don't care where you are when they're sleeping), then I urge you to ask yourself what that's teaching your children: money is more important than time with them. Your "need to be fulfilled" is more important than their need to be the center of your life. Let me appeal to your selfishness - think what you are missing! Being adored and cuddled. Seeing new discoveries and that look of amazement and joy when they figure something out or see something wondrous (to them). Irreplaceable childhood giggles. Hugs, kisses, silliness, bonding, and boundless love. Don't give it up. At work, you can be replaced, at home, you are the only Mommy your baby has. You can't be replaced, not really. And you know it.

Friday Feast

Feast 146 Appetizer Name something you think is “the best.” Well, there's me, of course. Eddie - best baby ever. The Husband (that's why he's THE Husband and not just "my" husband). Diet Coke Plus. My grandmother's brownies. Sleeping in. Soup On a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 highest), how stressed are you today? Hard to gauge. I'm ill so I feel rotten, but not stressed, per se. Salad What kind of cleanser do you use to wash your face? Mary Kay Timewise 3-in-1 Main Course Tonight is a blue moon! What is something that you believe only happens “once in a blue moon.” Everything goes right. Dessert When was the last time it rained where you live? Yesterday. Stupid thunder woke my napping baby. Must be someone I can sue over that.