08/08/08 is just another day

People close to me are rolling their eyes because they have heard me rant about why I am boycotting the Olympics. Whatev, it's my blog, right? Here is another reason why I am ignoring NBC starting August 8th. Basically, amongst other promises China made when they bid for the Olympics, they said they would not censor the Internet for foreign journalists. As they did with other promises, they reneged. Shocker.

I know, I know. If I was serious about my disdain I wouldn't buy Chinese products. I tried to shop like that once. It is nearly impossible. So, I've decided to ignore China's grand moment in the spotlight. Too bad, because there are some really talented atheletes I would love to watch.

Aaaahhhhhh!!!!

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

Growing up I loved me some Sesame Street and Wallace & Ladmo, but above those I adored Mr. Rogers. My mom said it was the only half hour I was totally quiet. Imagine that! I read this article today, and wanted to share it. I am cutting and pasting which is probably a blogging no-no, but I think it is important to share. The entire article elaborates on each point.

15 reasons Mr. Rogers was best neighbor ever
1. Even Koko the Gorilla loved him.
2. He made thieves think twice. (definitely read the article for this one)
3. He watched his figure to the pound.
4. He saved both public television and the VCR.
5. He might have been the most tolerant American ever.
6. He was genuinely curious about others.
7. He was color-blind.
9. He got into TV because he hated TV.
10. He was an Ivy League dropout.
11. He composed all the songs on the show, and over 200 tunes.
12. He was a perfectionist, and disliked ad libbing.
13. Michael Keaton got his start on the show as an assistant.
14. Several characters on the show are named for his family.
15. The sweaters. Every one of the cardigans he wore on the show had been hand-knit by his mother.

Free Batman

I keep reading all the stories about Christian Bale beating up his mom and sister, but I don't buy it. In my gut I think Senor Batman is not guilty. I read this article today and from my perspective it looks like someone was having a bad day and mom and sis were being pushy bitches and everyone took things a little too far.



Then I read the article a bit closer and saw this!

Jenny – who works as a part-time clown in Bournemouth – is also believed to have aggravated the star after making insulting comments about wife Sandra 'Sibi' Blazic.

The sister is a clown, which explains everything. Clowns=freaks, psychos, wackos, basically people asking to get beat down. For instance, John Wayne Gacy, the infamous serial killer was a clown.

Stop blaming my coulrophobia (clown phobia) or my intense crush on Christian Bale for my biased attitude. Don't you remember at some point in your life, in the midst of a family fight, thinking to yourself, "I wish I was just in a normal family?"

Making new friends

My adorable little B and I had the bestest day ever! We went to hang out with Renee and her super cute kiddos, Lennon and Harrison, at her totally cute house and caught up on everything that has happened in our super cool lives!!

Okay... I can't do it anymore. That small effort has me winded.

Here is the background info: Renee and I went to junior high and high school together. We spent six years in such close proximity, yet we didn't realize how cool the other was--our bad. Little did we know we were tortured by the same mean girls, have the same sense of humor, enjoy many of the same friends, and have realistic perspectives on parenting. We didn't get this far today, but I am willing to bet we are both equally in to the same type of music and literature. Through the wonderful world of the Internet (thanks Al Gore), we realized the error of our ways and had a get-together today. Over twelve years of circling the same places and people, and we finally had a conversation.

I think "a conversation" is putting it lightly...therapy would be a better way of putting it. The ears of Mesa mean girls were ringing today. Going in to details would not be appropriate, but in summary: everyone made someone's life a miserable hell and some people made everyone's lives a miserable hell (does that sound right?). Also, Erin Holliday is the nicest person ever. (Erin, if you want an explanation you have to go to lunch with Renee and I when you get back from Spain.)

This is definitely not the last time Renee and I will be getting together. This will provide Bradley many more opportunities to torture Lennon by stealing her toys. It will also save us money on diapers since Bradley and Harrison went hours without a fresh butt. Plus, we might actually get to the music and literature part, but I doubt it since talking about people is so much more entertaining.



BTW, the hokey intro to this blog is brought to you today by Seriously, So Blessed, recommended by Renee. If you read enough blogs, I'm sure this fictitious blog resembles an ex-classmate or a co-worker's. It is one of the most hysterical things I have read in a long time. Read it with an adult diaper on.

My home and my house

Okay, so the title might be a bit bizarre, but bear with me for a sec. I love our home. We bought our home almost four years ago, and just like every first time homebuyer, we went thru a lot to get it. It took six months longer to build than they promised, we were kept out of the loop with costs/dates/plans, and we became such a thorn in the builder's side were given the direct phone number for the regional VP. We were so lucky to purchase our home before the market went crazy. We would never be able to afford our home today if we went to buy it and since we were smart and firm enough we continue to afford it because we didn't bow to the pressure of the mortgage company who tried in vain to sign us to an ARM. You would not recognize this house from the inside if you saw it when we first moved in. It is crazy to think what we have done in four short years.





This house was never going to be our "forever home"--eventhough after everything it took to get in, I swore we wouldn't leave until it was paid off. The neighborhood is nice enough, but we don't like the school system and we don't know a lot of our neighbors since they are renters. A couple years back Jeff and I narrowed down where we wanted to live. Since we are not leaving Arizona, or Mesa for that matter, we knew our next house would be in northwest Mesa. I grew up there and I have always loved how the there are no cookie-cutter neighborhoods, there is lots of character, and the homes have retained value (at least where we would look). Jeff really likes the homes around Stapley and Brown because of the huge lots and good sized homes. I really like the homes in the Evergreen Historical District (Center and University).

Every so often I will mess around and look at houses for sale in our desired zip codes. The other day I found my house. It's pretty much the house I have always wanted to move in to, get old and fatter with Jeff (he would stay skinny, that jerk), and our grandkids would visit. I mortified Jeff by even going as far as emailing our realtor, who has luckily (or not) ignored my rantings.



I hate this market right now. Technically, we would make money off this house if we sold it since we bought before everything went BOOM. But we would not make all the money back we could make if we (really, I) were more patient. But but I doubt we could afford this house with the market back to normal. Oh, why can't Oprah be my BFF right now? Why can't Magic 8 Balls really work?

Poker Night

Saturday was poker night! There were a lot of people so we had two tables going: a boys and girls. The boy table was very serious and stern, they would do things like actually raise the blinds, wordlessly check, bet without considering another player's stack, use lucky charms, etc. The girls were much more "friendly": checking because someone's stack was low, showing our cards at the end, congratulating each other on a win, and splitting the pot when we got tired. Needless to say the boys were done with us after about ten minutes.






The kiddos had fun, too. B wandered around, engaging in random conversations. M enjoyed the vibrating "Panda" chair (which I now realize is a cow). H played Wii for a good three hours straight with poor Erin who was knocked out early. Good thing, Erin is scary when it comes to poker.

At the end of the night, Cam won at the boy table. Then the cops showed up... just kidding, kind of, Noah and Ashley (who are police officers) finally made it and told us stories. Then Cam, Jeff, and Joseph busted out the Rock Band for Wii. Everyone, but Jeff, was kicked out around midnight because we were getting up early to see The Dark Knight (love it!) the next morning.

Ticking timebomb

I have a couple weeks left until school starts and it is killing me. I'm not worried about all the stress of starting a new school year, that isn't it at all. What is bothering me is leaving B. And when I say bothering, I mean clawing and gnawing at my heart. This is a pain I can't even describe.

I know I am a little biased, but if you know my son you know how special he is. I am so blessed with the most outgoing, intelligent, and tender little boy. When he wakes in the morning he patiently waits for me to get up: no cries, whining, or dramatics. When I go into his room he is all smiles and hugs. We play peekabo during every diaper change. The list goes on, but my day is usually perfection. My only complaint is how he digs at his earplugs at swim lessons. Seriously.

Last summer I was ready to go back to work. I felt I deserved adult time and desperately needed the conversation and mental stimulation. Now I don't give a shit.

Everday there is something new and wonderful to explore, learn about, and laugh at with my Bradley. There are so many cuddles, hugs, smiles, dances, songs, and people for him to flirt with. How could I not be sad about going back to school?

Alas, I know that to be a good mother, wife, and overall person, I need to go back to work. I respect, and to a degree envy, my friends who stay home with their kids, but I know that is not an option for me. I love my job: the perspective it gives me, identity it provides, and the means to contribute to my family.

So don't mind me if I am more hermitish than usual, I am busy. I will be soaking every last second with my son, mentally recording every belly laugh, enjoying each mealtime, relishing our dances during Sesame Street, etc.

Oh dear

We got this on our door today. I am so sending this to Fail Blog.




If you need more reasons why charter schools suck, let me know!

I am an American teacher of English

In the past six years I have taken four State mandated courses on top of my graduate courses. These mandated courses are for teachers to improve their instruction for English language learners. I am not going to lie, it was not done to the best of my ability because very rarely are these courses taught well. Why waste my energy when the instructor is in the process of extracting his/her head out of his/her ass?

Politics aside, I believe these classes could be beneficial to teachers and their students. However, the State (cough Tom Horne cough) has us jumping up and down because they are changing/modifying/correcting/altering what is required for teachers every six months. Case in point: I am taking a class this summer because it was decided last year that my previous THREE were not sufficient. I could have told them they weren't sufficient back then, but they were too busy cashing my tuition check.

This summer's Internet (gag) class, like the others, is more than a little useless. Though my instructor is not as incompetent as those past, she is highly patronizing and hypocritical. My favorite combination. Today I opened my email and read her analysis of my last assignment. Here it is:

Dear Keiko,
I find your style and your approach Intelligent and easy to follow. I especially, liked your comments on structuring group work and on mnemonics. Your paper could, however have used more careful editing—especially since you are a teacher of English. (You are NOT an Enlish teacher. An English teacher is a “British” teacher of any subject. You are an American teacher of English.) You also used a dangling modifier in your first sentence. Please note my editing of your first paragraph below.

And she is judging me? I know that being an English teacher...excuse me, a teacher of English (WTF?) makes me a target for editing, but maybe she should take a look at what she is sending out.

Now that I have that out of my system, I will finish my homework.

My New Camera!

Like a good Japanese girl I went out and purchased a kick-butt new camera. I asked the advice of friends and family photographers and then ignored all their advice and bought a different one. Sorry guys, this one beat all your suggestions. Here are some pictures I have taken so far. Of course, all of B. I will have to mortify Jeff with pictures sometime soon.
Notice how I am now actually able to capture the moment, as opposed to the moments following? Also, the flash does not put a person's race in question. Sweet.

It also takes video, which my other camera did but the quality was similar to the film Blair Witch Project. I call this clip, Bradley's audition for a horror flick. If we changed him into ripped jeans and a wet, white t-shirt splashed with blood, I think he would be a shoo-in for Saw 28. (Suggestion: turn the volume down or you will be subjected to my child's screams and my obnoxious "I'm going to get you" voice.)

Lie #364

Everyone knows that your kids make liars of you. When you praise their behavior at a restaurant they spill drinks, scream at other diners, and throw their food. There is also the "I'll never do that..." lie.

Today I did something I always promised myself--and anyone listening--I would never do. I let my kid play at the mall play area. Or, as I formally called it: loud, nasty hell. We had to get out of the house today; we tried the backyard and his car, but it is July in Arizona and by being outside I was risking my son's life. You can tell in these pics how happy he is about being in the heat.




Jeff and I brainstormed all the possible places with the following criteria: cheap, cool, and not too far away. Since it is Sunday in Mesa, our options were severely limited. We both knew we were going to have to go to the mall, neither of us wanted to admit it.

Soooo, it wasn't that bad. We got there while they were cleaning it, so we knew it would not be totally slick with some kid's snot and sock sweat.* The other kids were pretty sweet about B going backwards up the slide and following them while they climbed places his little body wouldn't let him go. I'll definitely let him go back, but only when the mall first opens or around 2:30 when it is cleaned.




* I'm not a germaphobe, but little kids can be really gross with the sticky hands, snotty noses, stinky feet, mysterious stains. Hence the reason I teach HS rather than elementary.

20 year torture

Ladies and gents, boys and girls (a la Sweeney Todd)... B is napping, Jeff is strapped to the machine, someone else is doing my yardwork. I somehow justified that if I do this quiz, I will simultaneously work up the energy to conquer cleaning the floors and kitchen. That is quite ambitious and more than a little redundant considering I am tripping over an extra dog this weekend (mom and dad entrusted us with their other child while the vacation in Alaska). There is nothing remotely groundbreaking in this superficial getting to know me quiz. Enjoy if you will.


20 years ago I was
1. 7 years old
2. living in Mesa, AZ
3. reading any book I could get my hands on
4. going to Madison Elementary
5. wearing hyper-color clothing, leggings, and jellies if I could get my hands on them
6. sitting underneath the fire engine on the playground using as many cuss words as possible

10 years ago I was
1. 17 years old
2. living in Mesa, AZ
3. going to Mesa High hockey games
4. splitting time between drama and band
5. trying to figure out where I was going to go to college
6. writing horrible short stories and making a lame attempt at meaningful poetry

5 years ago I was
1. 22 years old
2. living in Mesa, AZ or Brighton, England
3. newly engaged to Jeff
4. teaching at Kino Junior High
5. living with Rika and Jeff in our rental house on Harmony… good times!
6. reading a ton of books… I was averaging two books a week

3 years ago I was
1. 24 years old
2. living in Mesa, AZ
3. married for a year
4. decorating our new house
5. still reading a ton of books and attempting to write again
6. not even thinking about getting pregnant

So far this year I have
1. only read three books
2. loved every minute of being a mother
3. been published in a literary journal
4. continued my second graduate degree
5. created our family blog (I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, guys)
6. embarrassed Jeff more than ever with my public singing and joke telling

Yesterday I
1. moved the blog from one site to another
2. waited and waited for B to wake from his marathon nap
3. didn’t get to go with Mollie or Bonnie to look for wedding dresses
4. ok, this is a good one… bought a food scale, an ice cube tray (new dessert recipe, don’t ask), and salad Tupperware-ma-bob
5. read ONE chapter from a book…woohoo!
6. stalked a bunch of old friends’ blogs

Today I (it’s only 10am, so nothing impressive)
1. am getting the back and front yards dolled up
2. might take B swimming
3. will finish that book… only 30 pages left!
4. am going to beat Jeff on Wii tennis, if not, boxing
5. am going to make a killer dinner as opposed to reheating leftovers
6. clean my dirty dirty house

Tomorrow I
1. am taking Jeff to his follow-up appointment
2. will go with Hannah to pilates
3. will continue to stalk new blogs
4. am thinking of making Jeff grill some burgers
5. will get B back on his schedule… napping an hour after one wakes is a luxury, not a necessity, but at least we get to do stuff before it gets too hot
6. plan not to do any laundry, though the basket upstairs is taunting me

In the next year I
1. get to have “conversations” with my son
2. will plan a vacation with the boys
3. continue to exercise…even when school starts
4. will read more books
5. commit to my writing
6. get a new camera, because my current one is jacked

New blog location

Don't ask me why, but I decided to move our blog from wordpress to blogger. Seriously, it probably has a lot more to do with the fact that this place is easier to understand. I went ahead and posted past entries under the original date. This means all comments are lost. Sorry!

Also, if you were with us over at wordpress, I have added pics to some of the blogs. I promise I will work on putting up more pictures with future blogs.

I escaped!

It is appropriate that yesterday was Independence Day, because I got a bit of independence myself. We had our first babysitter yesterday. Usually the grandparents come through in grand style for us, but as my parents are in Alaska and Jeff’s parents are camping, I was truly worried for a minute. One of the fab things about teaching at HS is an abundance of potential babysitters. Candidate uno was one of my favorite students of all time, Heather. Not only was she in my Honors class, but she was the greatest student aide ever. She would say things like, “I know you didn’t ask me to, but I went ahead and put those papers away, after I organized and labeled them….” I will miss that girl. I knew she would be a fantabulous babysitter for Bradley and Jeff.

Once Heather arrived I escaped for a delicious lunch with Shanna, Mollie, and Bonnie. We got to talk all about Mollie’s engagement and wedding plans, harass the waiter, gossip about random people, and generally decompress. When I got home Heather and B were playing on the floor, and B was only mildly impressed at my arrival. He is such a laid back kid, I knew he wouldn’t go crazy with the new company; I was concerned how Heather would fare with two baby gates that require a graduate degree to open/close, three dogs (we are dog-sitting), a husband (who hid most of the time) on crutches, and a baby who loves to climb. Of course, she is magical and did great.

Later that day the entire family was able to go to Hannah’s house for a BBQ. There was tons of delicious food and fun people. B got to play with other kids, Jeff was able to sit on someone else’s sofa for a couple hours, and I was able to socialize. It was a great vacation. We didn’t do fireworks since B was a wreck before we left Hannah and Brock’s and neither Jeff nor I felt like being outdoors in the gross heat. Anyway, we got a nice recap of all the fireworks on the news later that night.

I know this is probably the last year Jeff and I can avoid festivities by blaming them on B’s schedule. Soon enough he will be two and we will be branded Scrooge parents for not letting our kid experience the joy of three hours of waiting in sweltering Monsoon heat for a fifteen minute firework show that will most likely scare the crap out of him.

I hope everyone had a decent 4th of July!

The chirp of grasshoppers

Sorry for silence. Things have been insanely busy. I have been trying to maintain a balance between Jeff, Bradley, and my needs over the last week. It has resulted in extreme exhaustion. I am about to sound like a martyr, and if you have a problem with it you can stuff it, or, better yet, come over and do some laundry for me. Basically from the minute I wake up to when I go to bed I am doing chores: (un)loading dishwasher, doing laundry, making breakfast, vacuuming, medicating/bathing/settling Jeff, all the baby stuff, grocery shopping, doing bills, so on and so forth. Somewhere in there I sneak out for pilates. Jeff and I have always shared household chores and parenting responsibilities pretty evenly, so this has been a knockout experience for me. While he tells me he appreciates everything what I am doing, I told him that he can prove it at Christmas, my birthday, and Mother’s Day.

Jeff helping as much as he can:

Here are some interesting observations I have made over the past couple days that I don’t have the energy to spin in to a worthy blog:

1. At swimming lessons one of B’s fellow swimmer’s name was Gringo. Yes, Gringo. His parents were shouting it thru the place and I saw it written on his card, so I know I wasn’t hallucinating. If you don’t know, that is Spanish slang (not a good one) for white guy. Poor little kid.

2. Jeff and I think B is the Dog Whisperer. Every where we go he points and days, “Dog.” When we ask him where, he looks at us like we are the crazy ones.

3. The crazy Barbie from my cardio class (see previous blog, I’m too lazy to link) is actually the yoga instructor at the gym. I never liked yoga, and now I hate it even more.

4. Everyone is getting married. Between Sept and Nov, Jeff and I have FOUR weddings to go to. At least I am not 7 months pregnant and in two of them.

5. We have great friends and family. Thank you to everyone who has sent a kind word, offered to help, or lent a hand. You are so appreciated.

Peace out homeslices.