"My father's name is Russ. He is funny and bald," Hannah translated. She was practicing for her speech about her family for French class.
Emphasis on the adjectives.
"What does it say about me?" Mia begged.
"Hmmm... let's see...'My sister Mia is cute and smart.'"
"Oh, oh! Do me next! What about me?" asked Caleb.
"My brother Caleb is ten and mean," Hannah read aloud.
"Really, Hannah? Really?" Caleb was unusually indignant. I thought he was going to stomp his foot on the floor for emphasis.
"Well," Hannah stalled, scrambling for a suitable reason, "I'd already used a bunch of other adjectives, and we're not allowed to repeat any..."
"Brown hair, Hannah. You could have said, 'My brother Caleb has brown hair.'"
This was a surprise to everyone, because Caleb routinely claims to have never heard of the grammatical concept called adjectives.
Those who are familiar with this denial technique might describe his behavior as deceptive.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Monday, May 19, 2014
Redemption
Remember two weeks ago when I was Dinnertime WWM? (That's World's Worst Mom, the acronym of dishonor and underachievement.)
Well, last week, I tried to make up for it, which as it turns out was terrible timing considering that my Algebra final exam was on Wednesday and we were leaving for Boston for my sister's marriage the following morning.
And let's not forget the whole Property Appraisal hoopla.
But, guilt is a powerful motivator, and I was motivated to try--really try--to redeem myself for the previous week's mealtime transgressions.
So, here is what we had:
Monday:
World's most elaborate at-home weekday salad, featuring all kinds of things like sliced hard-boiled eggs, bacon, deli meat, lots of sliced vegetables, etc.
Dessert: sliced mango
Health Factor: Great, perhaps a little protein-heavy, but whatever
Effort Required: Way too much, but this might be because I was also trying to simultaneously prepare Wednesday's meal.
I forgot to give Russ and the kids the bolillo loaves to accompany their salads, which led to "World's most elaborate sandwiches" in their lunchboxes on Tuesday.
Oh well.
Tuesday:
Teriyaki pork kebabs with grilled vegetables served over rice
Dessert: grilled pineapple
Health Factor: Pretty darn good
Effort Required: Good grief! From here forward, this will be reserved for Saturdays and summer!
This was supposed to be the easiest meal, since Russ prepared and marinated the meat Monday night. The plan was for him to take the lead on this meal so that I could prepare/obsess for Wednesday's final exam. I'm not sure how things spun out of control so quickly, but it might be the latest we've ever served dinner.
Ever.
Did you know that grilling pineapple seems to quadruple the sweetness-factor? It nearly sent us into sugar-shock, but the kids didn't seem to mind.
Wednesday:
Cottleston pie, blanched asparagus, sliced tomatoes, remaining lone bolillo loaf
Dessert: sliced cantaloupe
Health Factor: Better than fast food
Effort Required: Manageable. Reasonable, even, as long as you're not trying to prepare it at the same time as another meal (and quiz the kids on their spelling words, and sign permission slips, and...)
Cottleston Pie is one of those great flexible meals where you can substitute out just about any (and almost all) of the ingredients for whatever you happen to have on hand. The only annoying thing is that by the time you put everything into the baking dish, you've already done all the work of sauteing the elements that require cooking, namely the beef, bacon, and onions.
To then have to bake it until hot and bubbly is an insult to efficiency.
This week, I discovered that you can combine all the ingredients into the crockpot, put on the lid, and shove the whole thing into the refrigerator to be re-heated later in the week, which worked out exactly the way I hoped it would.
If you were to seek out this recipe, you'd have the best luck searching for "Calico Bean Casserole. "Cottleston Pie" is our family's name for this casserole, based on the poem by A.A. Milne of Winnie the Pooh fame.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken? I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie
Last time I shared a cost-breakdown, so to keep things fair, I'll do it again. I do need to include a few disclaimers, though.
First of all, there were some things that we already had on hand that I will need to estimate (like rice). There are other things, such as the ingredients for the teriyaki marinade, that we had on hand which would be a complete pain to try to evaluate for cost. Especially since we use tamari instead of soy sauce, brown sugar instead of white, balsamic vinegar instead of white, etc. I will include a link to the recipe, though, because we have thoroughly enjoyed this marinade on beef and chicken, and now, pork, too!
I think this is the one we use. It says at least two hours, but we've had the best luck marinating it overnight. (click here for marinade recipe)
Also, I'll quote the fresh fruit price as if it were for a single amount, when in reality I purchased double of everything you'll see. This is because I was at Sprouts-- discouragingly-iffy when it comes to the freshness of the fruit. You never know when you'll get a rotten melon, and it's happened to us enough times that we've learned it's just easier to double up.
Each of these meals yielded enough leftovers to create subsequent lunches even after feeding a family of five (including three forever-ravenous children ages 14, 10, and 7).
World's Most Elaborate At-Home Weekday Salad:
- one head of red lettuce: $.88
- two sliced heirloom vine tomatoes: $.70
- cucumber, sliced: $.50
- green pepper, sliced: $.50
- 1/4 of a sliced red onion: $.20?
- half a package of uncured bacon: $1.75 (You can get uncured bacon super-cheap if you buy at the right time, but you usually have to buy a LOT of it to get the deal. Fortunately it freezes well!)
- six eggs (so, half a dozen): $1.75
- quarter-pound deli turkey (Boar's Head Oven Gold): $2.25
- quarter-pound seasoned roast beef (Boar's Head, grownups only): $2.98
- quarter-pound deli smoked ham (Kroger's Private Selection-- good quality but still house-brand. May contain gluten, but it's for the kids, anyway): $2.08
- bolillos (8-count from the bakery section. Pretend we had four that night): $.86
- mangoes (Pretend we had two, not four): $1.00
Total cost: $15.45
Teriyaki Pork Kebabs:
- 3-ish pounds of centercut porkloin: $5.01
- one bag of those cute little red, orange, and yellow peppers: $1.99
- one green pepper $.50
- one red onion: $.80
- one cup of rice: $.30
- one pineapple: $2.50
Total cost: $11.10
Cottleston Pie:
- 3/4 of a red onion: $.60
- 1.37 pounds of ground beef (grass-fed, grass-finished, which explains the price): $6.84
- the other half a package of uncured bacon: $1.75
- one can baked beans: $1.58
- one can kidney beans: $.68
- one can black beans: $.86
- two big bunches of asparagus: $3.59
- two sliced heirloom vine tomatoes: $.70
- the last lonely bolillo: $.22
- one cantaloupe: $1.50
Total cost: $18.32
So that's Good Mommy dinner week for you! Now, on the heels of a whirlwind trip up North, we've returned to an (intentionally) empty fridge, exhaustion, and an utter lack of motivation.
I am seriously considering making fish-sticks and macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight.
Don't worry, I'll redeem myself next week...
Well, last week, I tried to make up for it, which as it turns out was terrible timing considering that my Algebra final exam was on Wednesday and we were leaving for Boston for my sister's marriage the following morning.
And let's not forget the whole Property Appraisal hoopla.
But, guilt is a powerful motivator, and I was motivated to try--really try--to redeem myself for the previous week's mealtime transgressions.
So, here is what we had:
Monday:
World's most elaborate at-home weekday salad, featuring all kinds of things like sliced hard-boiled eggs, bacon, deli meat, lots of sliced vegetables, etc.
Dessert: sliced mango
Health Factor: Great, perhaps a little protein-heavy, but whatever
Effort Required: Way too much, but this might be because I was also trying to simultaneously prepare Wednesday's meal.
I forgot to give Russ and the kids the bolillo loaves to accompany their salads, which led to "World's most elaborate sandwiches" in their lunchboxes on Tuesday.
Oh well.
Tuesday:
Teriyaki pork kebabs with grilled vegetables served over rice
Dessert: grilled pineapple
Health Factor: Pretty darn good
Effort Required: Good grief! From here forward, this will be reserved for Saturdays and summer!
This was supposed to be the easiest meal, since Russ prepared and marinated the meat Monday night. The plan was for him to take the lead on this meal so that I could prepare/obsess for Wednesday's final exam. I'm not sure how things spun out of control so quickly, but it might be the latest we've ever served dinner.
Ever.
Did you know that grilling pineapple seems to quadruple the sweetness-factor? It nearly sent us into sugar-shock, but the kids didn't seem to mind.
Wednesday:
Cottleston pie, blanched asparagus, sliced tomatoes, remaining lone bolillo loaf
Dessert: sliced cantaloupe
Health Factor: Better than fast food
Effort Required: Manageable. Reasonable, even, as long as you're not trying to prepare it at the same time as another meal (and quiz the kids on their spelling words, and sign permission slips, and...)
Cottleston Pie is one of those great flexible meals where you can substitute out just about any (and almost all) of the ingredients for whatever you happen to have on hand. The only annoying thing is that by the time you put everything into the baking dish, you've already done all the work of sauteing the elements that require cooking, namely the beef, bacon, and onions.
To then have to bake it until hot and bubbly is an insult to efficiency.
This week, I discovered that you can combine all the ingredients into the crockpot, put on the lid, and shove the whole thing into the refrigerator to be re-heated later in the week, which worked out exactly the way I hoped it would.
If you were to seek out this recipe, you'd have the best luck searching for "Calico Bean Casserole. "Cottleston Pie" is our family's name for this casserole, based on the poem by A.A. Milne of Winnie the Pooh fame.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
Why does a chicken? I don't know why.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie.
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie,
A fish can't whistle and neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Cottleston Cottleston Cottleston Pie
Last time I shared a cost-breakdown, so to keep things fair, I'll do it again. I do need to include a few disclaimers, though.
First of all, there were some things that we already had on hand that I will need to estimate (like rice). There are other things, such as the ingredients for the teriyaki marinade, that we had on hand which would be a complete pain to try to evaluate for cost. Especially since we use tamari instead of soy sauce, brown sugar instead of white, balsamic vinegar instead of white, etc. I will include a link to the recipe, though, because we have thoroughly enjoyed this marinade on beef and chicken, and now, pork, too!
I think this is the one we use. It says at least two hours, but we've had the best luck marinating it overnight. (click here for marinade recipe)
Also, I'll quote the fresh fruit price as if it were for a single amount, when in reality I purchased double of everything you'll see. This is because I was at Sprouts-- discouragingly-iffy when it comes to the freshness of the fruit. You never know when you'll get a rotten melon, and it's happened to us enough times that we've learned it's just easier to double up.
Each of these meals yielded enough leftovers to create subsequent lunches even after feeding a family of five (including three forever-ravenous children ages 14, 10, and 7).
World's Most Elaborate At-Home Weekday Salad:
- one head of red lettuce: $.88
- two sliced heirloom vine tomatoes: $.70
- cucumber, sliced: $.50
- green pepper, sliced: $.50
- 1/4 of a sliced red onion: $.20?
- half a package of uncured bacon: $1.75 (You can get uncured bacon super-cheap if you buy at the right time, but you usually have to buy a LOT of it to get the deal. Fortunately it freezes well!)
- six eggs (so, half a dozen): $1.75
- quarter-pound deli turkey (Boar's Head Oven Gold): $2.25
- quarter-pound seasoned roast beef (Boar's Head, grownups only): $2.98
- quarter-pound deli smoked ham (Kroger's Private Selection-- good quality but still house-brand. May contain gluten, but it's for the kids, anyway): $2.08
- bolillos (8-count from the bakery section. Pretend we had four that night): $.86
- mangoes (Pretend we had two, not four): $1.00
Total cost: $15.45
Teriyaki Pork Kebabs:
- 3-ish pounds of centercut porkloin: $5.01
- one bag of those cute little red, orange, and yellow peppers: $1.99
- one green pepper $.50
- one red onion: $.80
- one cup of rice: $.30
- one pineapple: $2.50
Total cost: $11.10
Cottleston Pie:
- 3/4 of a red onion: $.60
- 1.37 pounds of ground beef (grass-fed, grass-finished, which explains the price): $6.84
- the other half a package of uncured bacon: $1.75
- one can baked beans: $1.58
- one can kidney beans: $.68
- one can black beans: $.86
- two big bunches of asparagus: $3.59
- two sliced heirloom vine tomatoes: $.70
- the last lonely bolillo: $.22
- one cantaloupe: $1.50
Total cost: $18.32
So that's Good Mommy dinner week for you! Now, on the heels of a whirlwind trip up North, we've returned to an (intentionally) empty fridge, exhaustion, and an utter lack of motivation.
I am seriously considering making fish-sticks and macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight.
Don't worry, I'll redeem myself next week...
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Mother's Fashion Tips
According to my mother, there are only three things you need to know. And one extra thing I need to know.
1. If you wear monochromatic outfits, you can get away with owning fewer articles of clothing. Stick to black-on-black, and people will usually forget what you wear altogether. Win-win.
2. Tan cellulite is always more attractive than pale cellulite.
3. You can always be blonder. Always.
Oh! Almost forgot:
4. For Pete's sake, it wouldn't kill you to put on a little makeup every now and then.
Happy belated Mother's Day, Mom!
See you at the airport on Thursday-- I'll be the very blonde, surprisingly tan one dressed in black and wearing cherry Chapstick, tinted sunscreen, and maybe some mascara and/or eyeliner (I've even been practicing!)
Monday, April 28, 2014
Cheers
So much for everybody knowing your name...
"I always wanted to have a long name that could be shortened to a cool nickname. Like Samantha. I could've been an awesome Sam," lamented Hannah at lunch on the heels of a discussion about namesake juniors, seniors, and thirds.
"I actually wanted to name you Samantha!" Russ confided.
Hannah's eyes widened at this news. "Really?"
Zero effort was made to conceal my eye-roll, and I'm sure I probably sighed dramatically, too, before I offered my two cents on the situation. "I bet I know why he wanted to name you that, and probably why your mom shot it down, too," I told her.
Why?" All three kids leaned forward eagerly to hear why Hannah was not Samantha.
"Because," I announced definitively, "your father used to have a HUGE crush on Sam Malone."
"Who's Sam Malone?"
"A character from a popular TV show from the eighties," I explained.
"Hmm... that doesn't... I'm not sure... I don't think that was her last name," Russ said, taking out his phone to look it up.
He was right. The lovely Alyssa Milano, who played Sam on Who's the Boss, had the last name of Micelli on the show.
"Then who's Sam Malone?" the kids asked.
We looked it up.
Do you remember?
The show was Cheers.
The actor was Ted Danson.
Whoops.The actor was Ted Danson.
 |
| Malone |
 |
| Micelli |
 |
| Malone |
 |
| Micelli |
Dinner Plans
When you see what I plan to serve my family for dinner for the next three days, you are either going to be very impressed with how far I've come in the "letting go" department or absolutely appalled at just how low my standards have dropped.
If you are a purist or affiliated with Child Protective Services in any capacity, I recommend that you sit this one out. You are about to witness things that you'll never be able to un-see.
To heck with sodium and preservatives; it's going to be a busy week, I can sense it.
Desperate times, folks.
For example, Mia has a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon, which means that most of my morning will be consumed by thinking don't forget about the dentist, don't forget about the dentist, don't forget about the dentist and by repeatedly doing the "math" of what time I will need to retrieve her from school.
There's other stuff going on, too, I just can't remember what it is right now. And probably I won't remember, at least until we're past the dentist appointment so there's room in my brain for something new to remember (or forget).
So brace yourself, because this menu is a real doozy and not for the faint of heart or blood pressure.
Since some of the readers are on similar shoestring budgets, I will list the cost of each meal, too. And I do use the term "meal" loosely. Everything was purchased at Walmart. Things could have been done cheaper. Things could have been done with coupons. Things certainly could have been done more healthfully.
But they weren't, not this time.
Monday: Indoor Picnic
-Really big sandwiches (grinders, hoagies, heroes, subs--whatever you call them) pre-made from the deli--$5.98 for the giant one, $5.48 for the foot-long.
-Potato salad, pre-made from the deli, $2.98
-Mixed-vegetables, frozen (well, we won't eat them frozen, of course) $1.08
Total cost: $15.52
Bonus: There will totally be leftovers. Tomorrow's school lunches are practically made!
Tuesday: Breakfast for Dinner
-Blueberry pancakes and/or maple pancakes, premade from the freezer section. The label says things like "natural" and "preservative-free" but really, who knows? More importantly, who cares? Not me, at least not this week. 24 pancakes for $3.50, so I purchased two bags of 'em.
-Breakfast sausage links. Usually I go with the turkey variety, not because I'll eat them but mostly because they are less gross to cook, at least in my mind. I don't know what's going on in the turkey market, but I am NOT paying $6.98 for one package. I went with the Johnsonville pork variety, $3.24.
-Hashbrown patties (freezer aisle). Not happy about turning on the oven now that the outdoor temp is on the rise, but I'll get over it for the sake of convenience. $1.88
-Strawberries, fresh. 2 lbs for $3.00. Not too shabby.
Total cost: $15.12
Bonus: There's no way that Russ and the kids will consume 48 pancakes, right? Maybe I can squeak another meal out of this.
Wednesday: International Night
-Beef Lo Mein (freezer aisle-- Birdseye) "family size" $6.76
-Sweet and Sour Chicken (freezer aisle-- Birdseye. It seems to include rice and vegetables) "family size" $6.76
-Broccoli, frozen-- $1.08
-And, because for reasons unknown, Chinese food always always makes me ill, an Amy's single-serve gluten-free, dairy-free, meat-free tofu pad thai meal, $3.48.
Total cost: $18.08
Bonus: I'm not sure if a bonus exists for this meal. Um... it's cheaper than a restaurant?
Is frozen Chinese food good or gross?
Who knows? Who cares? Not me!
Will the kids like it? They don't have to.
That is one battle we absolutely do not have.
EVER.
The official family policy is as follows:
The good news is you don't have to eat it.
The bad news is you won't get dessert.
Will they survive this mega mommy-lapse?
Let's hope so.
Bonus: I'm predicting that their daily water consumption will quadruple with the amount of salt they're about to consume.
If you are a purist or affiliated with Child Protective Services in any capacity, I recommend that you sit this one out. You are about to witness things that you'll never be able to un-see.
To heck with sodium and preservatives; it's going to be a busy week, I can sense it.
Desperate times, folks.
For example, Mia has a dentist appointment tomorrow afternoon, which means that most of my morning will be consumed by thinking don't forget about the dentist, don't forget about the dentist, don't forget about the dentist and by repeatedly doing the "math" of what time I will need to retrieve her from school.
There's other stuff going on, too, I just can't remember what it is right now. And probably I won't remember, at least until we're past the dentist appointment so there's room in my brain for something new to remember (or forget).
So brace yourself, because this menu is a real doozy and not for the faint of heart or blood pressure.
Since some of the readers are on similar shoestring budgets, I will list the cost of each meal, too. And I do use the term "meal" loosely. Everything was purchased at Walmart. Things could have been done cheaper. Things could have been done with coupons. Things certainly could have been done more healthfully.
But they weren't, not this time.
Monday: Indoor Picnic
-Really big sandwiches (grinders, hoagies, heroes, subs--whatever you call them) pre-made from the deli--$5.98 for the giant one, $5.48 for the foot-long.
-Potato salad, pre-made from the deli, $2.98
-Mixed-vegetables, frozen (well, we won't eat them frozen, of course) $1.08
Total cost: $15.52
Bonus: There will totally be leftovers. Tomorrow's school lunches are practically made!
Tuesday: Breakfast for Dinner
-Blueberry pancakes and/or maple pancakes, premade from the freezer section. The label says things like "natural" and "preservative-free" but really, who knows? More importantly, who cares? Not me, at least not this week. 24 pancakes for $3.50, so I purchased two bags of 'em.
-Breakfast sausage links. Usually I go with the turkey variety, not because I'll eat them but mostly because they are less gross to cook, at least in my mind. I don't know what's going on in the turkey market, but I am NOT paying $6.98 for one package. I went with the Johnsonville pork variety, $3.24.
-Hashbrown patties (freezer aisle). Not happy about turning on the oven now that the outdoor temp is on the rise, but I'll get over it for the sake of convenience. $1.88
-Strawberries, fresh. 2 lbs for $3.00. Not too shabby.
Total cost: $15.12
Bonus: There's no way that Russ and the kids will consume 48 pancakes, right? Maybe I can squeak another meal out of this.
Wednesday: International Night
-Beef Lo Mein (freezer aisle-- Birdseye) "family size" $6.76
-Sweet and Sour Chicken (freezer aisle-- Birdseye. It seems to include rice and vegetables) "family size" $6.76
-Broccoli, frozen-- $1.08
-And, because for reasons unknown, Chinese food always always makes me ill, an Amy's single-serve gluten-free, dairy-free, meat-free tofu pad thai meal, $3.48.
Total cost: $18.08
Bonus: I'm not sure if a bonus exists for this meal. Um... it's cheaper than a restaurant?
Is frozen Chinese food good or gross?
Who knows? Who cares? Not me!
Will the kids like it? They don't have to.
That is one battle we absolutely do not have.
EVER.
The official family policy is as follows:
The good news is you don't have to eat it.
The bad news is you won't get dessert.
Will they survive this mega mommy-lapse?
Let's hope so.
Bonus: I'm predicting that their daily water consumption will quadruple with the amount of salt they're about to consume.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Hamster Heartbeats
Hannah sighed, clearly frustrated by the schoolwork on her computer screen. "There's this thing I have to figure out as part of my homework, and I'm not sure I understand it. Could I read it to you?"
"Of course!" I was happy to (try!) to help. So much of what she is learning is so intricate and sophisticated that it was an honor simply to be asked to be of assistance.
"Okay. The heart rates and lifespans of mammals are inversely related. A cat has a heart rate of 126 beats per minute, and a hamster has a heart rate of 630 beats per minute. A cat lives for 15 years on average--"
"No way! This is utterly fascinating. I've never even considered that before. I mean, I know hamsters have a shorter shelf-life, so to speak, and people are always talking about "cat years" and "dog years" but now it totally makes sense."
My mind was racing at the implications. No wonder doctors placed such an emphasis on heart-health. It's as if we only receive a set amount of heartbeats, and when you reach the limit, your time is up.
"And sorry for interrupting," I added.
"A hamster--" Hannah resumed, the edges of her expression en route to exasperation.
"Just tell me this. Are you conducting an experiment? Is this biology? Physics?"
"Algebra. It's a math problem. Don't get dazzled by the details, okay? We're not supposed to care about the hamsters. Forget the storyline. We just need to look at the numbers and determine the function that represents the correlation."
Oh.
Jeez.
My feelings weren't hurt, of course, because it was about the seventy-thousandth time I'd been given that reminder.
That is when I began to formulate a theory that perhaps there is a function to represent a correlation (inverse-relationship, perhaps?) between mathematically-capable people and curiosity.
I think I know what the graph would look like, too.
If I did this correctly, it is saying that people with a higher mathematical strength have a diminished sense of curiosity. They care so much about the way the numbers fit together that they don't even pause to consider the hamsters or the cats or what this might mean for the longevity of the human species.
I also tried to make it asymptotic, so that neither the curiosity line nor the mathematic-strength line will ever cross zero.
This means that nobody is 100% curious and 0% mathematically capable (or 100% mathematically capable and 0% curious) because that just seems unreasonable.
I realize that math and research do seem to have a working relationship. Just not in the classroom, I suppose.
Tesla, Newton, Einstein, and Curie would need a different graph. Unless they were medium-curious and medium-capable.
It's possible. In a lot of ways, medium makes the world go 'round.
My theory may need more research and refinement, but that is going to have to wait. Right now, I have some burning questions about hamster-heartbeats and lifespans that are begging for some answers.
"Of course!" I was happy to (try!) to help. So much of what she is learning is so intricate and sophisticated that it was an honor simply to be asked to be of assistance.
"Okay. The heart rates and lifespans of mammals are inversely related. A cat has a heart rate of 126 beats per minute, and a hamster has a heart rate of 630 beats per minute. A cat lives for 15 years on average--"
"No way! This is utterly fascinating. I've never even considered that before. I mean, I know hamsters have a shorter shelf-life, so to speak, and people are always talking about "cat years" and "dog years" but now it totally makes sense."
My mind was racing at the implications. No wonder doctors placed such an emphasis on heart-health. It's as if we only receive a set amount of heartbeats, and when you reach the limit, your time is up.
"And sorry for interrupting," I added.
"A hamster--" Hannah resumed, the edges of her expression en route to exasperation.
"Just tell me this. Are you conducting an experiment? Is this biology? Physics?"
"Algebra. It's a math problem. Don't get dazzled by the details, okay? We're not supposed to care about the hamsters. Forget the storyline. We just need to look at the numbers and determine the function that represents the correlation."
Oh.
Jeez.
My feelings weren't hurt, of course, because it was about the seventy-thousandth time I'd been given that reminder.
That is when I began to formulate a theory that perhaps there is a function to represent a correlation (inverse-relationship, perhaps?) between mathematically-capable people and curiosity.
I think I know what the graph would look like, too.
 |
| Disregard the wobbles. It's just a sketch. |
If I did this correctly, it is saying that people with a higher mathematical strength have a diminished sense of curiosity. They care so much about the way the numbers fit together that they don't even pause to consider the hamsters or the cats or what this might mean for the longevity of the human species.
I also tried to make it asymptotic, so that neither the curiosity line nor the mathematic-strength line will ever cross zero.
This means that nobody is 100% curious and 0% mathematically capable (or 100% mathematically capable and 0% curious) because that just seems unreasonable.
I realize that math and research do seem to have a working relationship. Just not in the classroom, I suppose.
Tesla, Newton, Einstein, and Curie would need a different graph. Unless they were medium-curious and medium-capable.
It's possible. In a lot of ways, medium makes the world go 'round.
My theory may need more research and refinement, but that is going to have to wait. Right now, I have some burning questions about hamster-heartbeats and lifespans that are begging for some answers.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Burning Bridges
“Are you sure this is what you want to do? Because it
could all end badly.”
He wore the expression that I can only recognize in
retrospect and only seem to remember after it is too late.
“Someone is in need, and we have the solution right here,” I held out my palm, cupped around the car keys. And then I said the words that would seal our fate, right then and there:
“This is compassion in action. How could it possibly
end badly?”
He paused, carefully choosing words that would protect my
naïve soap-bubble of optimism. “You understand that this gesture of compassion won’t
magically turn the recipient into a pillar of good decision-making and
unwavering integrity, don’t you?”
Of course I understood.
We’re all human.
We’re all human.
“And you’re okay with that? That it might not change her
life?” he pressed.
“It will change her life right now, and that is what
matters most. We need to do this.”
“What about the plan to sell it to pay off the debt of
the blue car? Remember the plan?”
I remembered the plan. But we could find another way to
repay that money. I could tutor. I could get back into hardcore couponing. We
could give up meat for a year. We could build that bridge and cross it later. The time to be helpful was now.
“So many people have shown us such tremendous mercy and generosity through the years. Really, it’s the only way to keep the balance in The
Universe.”
He hates it when I bring The Universe into these
conversations.
“God, I hope you’re right,” he muttered, as he went off
to call the insurance lady to learn more about liability concerns, replace the tire that we suspected had a slow leak, and
buy a new battery.
The Universe can be very persuasive.
The Universe can be very persuasive.
***
The Universe, I thought, had presented us with a perfect opportunity to model a pay-it-forward attitude for our children.
We wouldn't need to make a big deal about it-- just letting it be a casual, commonplace event could more powerfully secure in their minds and hearts that extraordinary kindness can and should be part of an ordinary everyday life-style.
Our kids were all with the exes for the weekend when the car-transition took place, and we'd been so wrapped up with the usual hustle and bustle of starting the week that we didn't think to give them any forewarning.
Caleb was the first to notice the vehicle's absence, and he tore into the house to alert us that it was missing and most likely had been stolen. When he'd calmed down, we explained that we'd long-term loaned it to a friend in need. He was surprisingly skeptical for a third-grader. "Is that a good idea?" he asked.
"I think it's a great idea!" Mia called out. "More room for scooters and sidewalk chalk in the driveway!" Classic kindergartener.
When Hannah arrived home, they clamored to tell her the news. "Is that a good idea?" she asked.
Kindness is always a good idea, I assured everyone, prickling with annoyance at all this doubt. How could people so young already be so cynical?
***
Almost two months later, worries about liability had reached a fever pitch. Nothing critical had happened, per se, but with our names on the title and registration, if something did happen, it could jeopardize our household and financial stability.
A steady stream of unpaid bills were trickling in through the mail, namely in the form of Zipcash fees-- and eventually fines-- issued in my name with photo documentation of the white van.
I was somewhat confused: two days into the loan of the vehicle, I'd been reassured that a Toll Tag account had been established in the recipient's name to be billed to her address.
Many states with toll roads offer some sort of convenience plan at a discounted rate. In the Northeast, it's called EZ-Pass. Mid-westerners have the I-Pass. California has something called FasTrak.
In the thriving metropolis of Dallas-Fort Worth, the North Texas Tollway Authority has blessed us with two "economically and environmentally responsible options" for the grand privilege of using their roads.
Maybe you aren't familiar with the main differences between Zipcash and Toll Tag. I only recently found out.
The Toll Tag is the grandpa of the payment plans. It's been around here for at least as long as I have. It used to be a physical transponder box that one could switch from vehicle to vehicle at a moment's notice, but someone must have foreseen the potential problems with that plan-- not too late, I hope-- and they've switched to a "sticker below the rear-view mirror" method.
We are Toll Tag customers, which is why Zipcash-- obviously more expensive according to the signs above the toll roads-- remained a mystery for so long.
Zipcash emerged around the time that the SRT-121 Autobahn was built. The people in charge of building it decided to do away with the idea of tollbooths altogether, so the Zipcash cameras document usage, and then they bill (at a premium) the cost of usage to-- ready?-- the registered and titled owner of the vehicle.
When it comes to retrieving payments, the Zipcash folks do not mess around. First they send one bill, then a pink late notice, then a third (still bright pink, possibly brighter pink) notice stamped VIOLATION. The fourth attempt to contact is not really a notice at all. They send the situation to collections and continued failure to pay warrants DPS citations and is then prosecuted in court.
Well, this created an uncomfortable situation, especially for someone who goes to great lengths to avoid confrontation and all forms of debt and violations.
We realized that this would continue happening as long as the title was in my name. But, if we gave her the title, the liability would be off our shoulders.
As long as she titled and registered it in her name.
A free vehicle to own forever and ever for the low, low cost of titling and registering it-- approximately $150, maybe less. Who wouldn't jump all over that opportunity?
***
Saturday, March 31, 2013 was warm and sunny, which could only be interpreted as The Universe's way of giving consent to passing along the title and spare set of keys. My friend was so sincerely happy and grateful, and so was I.
Making the loan permanent brought a rush of positive energy and a release of all the anxiety that had been building with each subsequent pink Zipcash violation notice.
The rush lasted 17 days.
Reality returned with a vengeance in the form of more Zipcash fan mail and worse still, a red-light ticket.
***
I’ll spare you the details of the next few months. “Few”
is easier on my pride than the more precise “ten” because it’s almost embarrassing how
long I allowed this to continue.
Really, all you need to know is this gloomy pattern:
Zipcash fees, fines, warnings.
Red-light ticket.
Request about the registration and title status from me.
Deflecting, delaying, and a never-ending fountain of
excuses and promises from her.
Second verse, same as the first.
And then, a few quiet months when we thought all was finally well.
It was the January 2014 red-light ticket notice that proved otherwise.
I say this with infinite love and respect: thank goodness
my father was busy executing some evictions and tending to other litigious
matters, because I know beyond any shadow of a doubt, the man would have hopped
aboard the first plane heading to Dallas mad as hell and ready for an all-out
war.
And that is not good for anyone’s blood pressure, least of all his. It would be exponentially and unforgivably unjust if my bulletproof optimism killed my father.
In order to prevent the untimely death of my dad, I engaged in a long and drawn-out (and sometimes kind/sometimes
heated) request for the return of the vehicle.
And, just to be on the safe side, I started to prepare the legal paperwork for a situation which turned out to be eligible for several charges of varying severity— some civil, some criminal, and quite possibly one real doozy that might've required the state’s attorneys. Fortunately I didn’t have to pursue that one because…
And, just to be on the safe side, I started to prepare the legal paperwork for a situation which turned out to be eligible for several charges of varying severity— some civil, some criminal, and quite possibly one real doozy that might've required the state’s attorneys. Fortunately I didn’t have to pursue that one because…
On Tuesday, February 18, 2014, the vehicle came back! Right to the front of the house. Keys under the front door mat. Oh, sweet relief!
***
We agreed and ate in silence for a few moments, pondering the wise words of our amazing fourteen-year-old.
She did not, but Mia didn’t need to know that. Russ always says there are two definitions of sorry.
One means "apologetic."
The other means "sub-standard."
We now knew which category this former friend belonged to, and no words could change that.
I know in this case Russ hates to be right, but it did end badly.
Tragedy was both the impetus and the outcome for our act of compassion.
Why memorialize this mega judgment-lapse by sharing this story with others? Sometimes we all need a reminder that nobody's perfect and even the best of intentions can end poorly, but this is not a cautionary tale to warn the masses against kind actions. Hannah's words were so right: you have to think really carefully about who to trust and how much you are willing to risk before you do kind things.
As with the disappearance, the kids noticed the return immediately.
And the body damage.
And the smell.
This time Hannah was the first on the scene. “Oh my word. Oh my word,” she said, again and again with each new disappointing discovery.
“I know,” I said quietly, choking back tears.
“How can so much damage happen in one year’s time?” she asked, circling the vehicle. It was a question I’d been wondering, too.
The mileage provided a clue--nearly 25,000 miles in twelve months. It didn’t seem mathematically possible.
Because I am in College Algebra right now and you probably are not, allow me to do the math here: the 25,000 miles that the recipient had driven the vehicle in twelve months is double the auto-industry’s standard usage. It is roughly 8 and one-third recommended oil changes, which, from a probability standpoint, does not seem likely to have happened in this instance.
Not to mention, it is the very, very least of the problems.
We'd been given a heads up that the steering was having problems, which was a huge understatement. The vehicle literally growled and shook, whether in drive or reverse, with and without the application of the brakes.
The paint was almost completely scraped from the passenger-side door handles.
The front end had clearly collided with something-- the headlamp assembly was smashed in, the bumper was scraped, the grill was bent, and the hood was rumpled in such a way that it did not close completely on one side, creating a significant exposed gap.
Inside, an effort had been made to vacuum and Armor-all, but it hadn't completely removed the schmutz from any of the surfaces, and it couldn't conceal the black eye make-up on the visor.
Or the now-drooping headliner, which was currently thumb-tacked in place.
Or the missing seat-recliner handle.
Or the missing middle-row floor-mats (oddly shaped and customized to the vehicle.)
Or the the missing rear floor mats.
Or especially the eye-burningly strong odor of urine.
We'd been given a heads up that the steering was having problems, which was a huge understatement. The vehicle literally growled and shook, whether in drive or reverse, with and without the application of the brakes.
The paint was almost completely scraped from the passenger-side door handles.
The front end had clearly collided with something-- the headlamp assembly was smashed in, the bumper was scraped, the grill was bent, and the hood was rumpled in such a way that it did not close completely on one side, creating a significant exposed gap.
Inside, an effort had been made to vacuum and Armor-all, but it hadn't completely removed the schmutz from any of the surfaces, and it couldn't conceal the black eye make-up on the visor.
Or the now-drooping headliner, which was currently thumb-tacked in place.
Or the missing seat-recliner handle.
Or the missing middle-row floor-mats (oddly shaped and customized to the vehicle.)
Or the the missing rear floor mats.
Or especially the eye-burningly strong odor of urine.
“It looks... it looks like an old car,” Hannah said, bewildered.
In truth, it was an old car—it's just that nobody really realized it was an old car because it had received immaculate care for its entire existence.
It was an impulse buy from a Texas dealership on the part of my parents the day after my college graduation in 2001. My mom and I had driven it back to Connecticut together, and then I’d flown back to Texas.
It was an impulse buy from a Texas dealership on the part of my parents the day after my college graduation in 2001. My mom and I had driven it back to Connecticut together, and then I’d flown back to Texas.
My parents drove it back to Texas when Mia was born in 2006, and along with its title, my father had presented me with a fat file folder of every paper even remotely associated with every interaction regarding that vehicle.
No tire rotation was too insignificant.
I meticulously followed the model he’d set, filing the records and receipts of every oil change, registration receipt, emissions inspection, replacement, and repair. In combination with the Zipcash and red-light records, printouts of every text exchange and email with my loan recipient, before and after photos, and research about legal statutes, the documentation for this one vehicle now spans nearly ten inches in the filing cabinet.
I was overcome with grief and shame for owning the vehicle parked before me.
I was overcome with grief and shame for owning the vehicle parked before me.
“This is overwhelming,” I whispered. “It has more damage than any vehicle I’ve ever owned.”
“Even more than the time you allegedly nicked the deer?” asked Hannah warmly, trying to restore my smile.
“Well, yes,” I confirmed. “Granted, there was quite a bit of deer fur stuck in the front grill of that Saab, and that one side door was kicked in, but that—that was an act of nature. THIS,” could I even say the words?
“This,” I said defeatedly, “was an act of compassion.”
***
“I still don’t understand. If it was trashed, why did we even try to get it back?” Caleb asked at the dinner table. Even though I knew the answer, that very thought had been crossing back and forth through my mind all afternoon.
Russ expertly fielded this question.
“Imagine if someone was going around town doing terrible things—robbing banks, hurting people, all kinds of crimes. Imagine if that person was wearing a mask that looked exactly like my face, or like Mom’s face. We’d be the ones that the police were looking for, right? And they would try to hold us responsible for breaking the law.”
The kids’ eyes widened.
“That’s sort of like what happened with the car. The person that we gave it to never followed the law’s directions about putting it in her own name so that she could be the owner. When she started making irresponsible choices like not paying those bills on time and getting those red-light tickets, she was wearing a mask of our family name and honor.”
(He’s good, isn’t he?)
“If something terrible happened, like a car accident or a hit-and-run, the police would hold us responsible. She told us that she’d registered it and put the owner paperwork in her name, but that wasn’t the truth. We had to get the car back to in order to protect our family.”
“This is all my fault,” I confessed to them. “It was my idea to lend it to her—and to try to give it to her—because I thought she was a friend in need. I wanted to show you the goodness that can come from doing kind things for others, but I feel like it backfired. I feel like I showed you a lesson of why you shouldn’t ever trust people or do kind things.”
“No,” said Hannah, “I don’t think that’s the lesson. I think you showed us that you have to think really carefully about who to trust and how much you are willing to risk before you do kind things. Big kind things,” she self-corrected, turning to Mia and Caleb. “Little kind things are always good—opening the door for someone or offering to carry the groceries. Helping little old ladies across the street is always a good thing. But when it comes to the big things, I think the lesson is to think with your head and not just your heart.”
We agreed and ate in silence for a few moments, pondering the wise words of our amazing fourteen-year-old.
“I feel so sorry for her child,” Mia said softly.
“Me, too,” the others echoed.
I love, love, love being a parent to such compassionate children, even during times like this when the flame of compassion has burned our hands and our hearts. I love that they can see beyond the immediate situation to understand that a child is impacted by the decisions and lifestyle of a parent.
“That’s just one of the sad consequences that happen when people burn bridges,” said Russ.
“I think I understand what that expression means, Dad,” said Caleb. “When people burn their bridges, they don’t have a way to get across anymore.”
“Then they’re trapped,” said Mia.
“And usually alone,” I agreed.
As I looked around the table, I felt especially grateful that we had each other—our own little human bridge across challenging times.
***
After dinner, Russ and I went outside to look under the hood for clues to the steering problem. Is it a clue if everything is covered in reddish-orange dust? Something was definitely going on with the power-steering fluid, too. Black goo covered the cap and the reservoir.
I couldn't take it another second, and I started scrubbing away at that cap with a Clorox wipe. Russ intervened and said I should probably leave it alone in case it would help the mechanic identify the problem. I argued back at first-- even after the cap was clean, there'd still be a ton of black goo evidence to identify the problem.
"Do you think we'll need to hire a tow truck to bring it to the mechanic?" I asked.
I couldn't take it another second, and I started scrubbing away at that cap with a Clorox wipe. Russ intervened and said I should probably leave it alone in case it would help the mechanic identify the problem. I argued back at first-- even after the cap was clean, there'd still be a ton of black goo evidence to identify the problem.
"Do you think we'll need to hire a tow truck to bring it to the mechanic?" I asked.
“God, I hope not. The bill’s already going to be huge.”
“It’s been airing out for a few hours, but the smell is still making my eyes water. I guess we should close the windows, though, so that squirrels don’t get in…”
“Honestly, I’m not sure if squirrels could make it any worse,” he said.
***
Later that night, the fiasco in the driveway was still on Mia’s mind.
“The car used to be so nice, Mommy. Remember?” I remembered. “Did she say she was sorry for hurting it?”
She did not, but Mia didn’t need to know that. Russ always says there are two definitions of sorry.
One means "apologetic."
The other means "sub-standard."
We now knew which category this former friend belonged to, and no words could change that.
I know in this case Russ hates to be right, but it did end badly.
Tragedy was both the impetus and the outcome for our act of compassion.
Why memorialize this mega judgment-lapse by sharing this story with others? Sometimes we all need a reminder that nobody's perfect and even the best of intentions can end poorly, but this is not a cautionary tale to warn the masses against kind actions. Hannah's words were so right: you have to think really carefully about who to trust and how much you are willing to risk before you do kind things.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Clorox Queen Returns
"The reason I didn't reload the dishwasher today is because of the Clorox wipe situation," I explained to Russ.
"Situation?"
"Yes. Didn't I tell you? I asked the kids' art teacher if she might be able to use all those empty ones I've been saving.
"But you know how those containers get when there's extra Clorox juice at the bottom. So I thought I might run them through the dishwasher.
"Then I realized that it probably wouldn't work from a physics standpoint. After all, those containers really are pretty tall, and upside-down, the juice junk would be at the top, so it will probably be better if I just wash them by hand. Or maybe I could use a Clorox wipe..."
"Ugh. That is so you," he said.
"What is so me?" I thought my idea seemed quite reasonable.
"Devising a plan to thoroughly clean a container that held a cleaning product and cleaning fluid."
I wanted to argue with him, but then I remembered this:
 |
| These are a few of her favorite things. It took the poor kid until age 4 to realize that her middle initial of "C" stood for Cassidy and not Clorox. |
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