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Got the Time?

Yesterday I whined a bit about parents who don't notify the school when their kids will be absent—or who do notify the school but fail to give the required information. I also mentioned parents who bring their kids to school late every single day. This struck a chord with Margaret (a teacher), who left this comment: "Do NOT get me started on parents who bring their kids late every day to school...." You're preaching to the choir on this one, Margaret.

I have absolutely no patience for people who are late all the time. In my mind, chronic tardiness does not indicate "Oh, I'm so scatterbrained!" or "Oh, my life is so hectic!" No, it means, "I have no respect for other people." I know that sounds harsh, but I really believe it. Being late more often than not carries an implicit assumption that everyone will wait for you—whether it's your dinner companions at the restaurant or the co-workers at your meeting or the members of your carpool.

It's one thing to be late all the time, and it's quite another to make your kids late all the time. Until kids are old enough to get around themselves, they rely on their parents. If your kids can't get up, get dressed, get breakfast, and get to school all on their own, then it's up to you to do make it happen on time. If your second-grader is a slowpoke, you the parent have to move things along. Pick out clothes the night before, have cold cereal for breakfast, prepare a backpack "packing list"—whatever you need to do.

I think that parents who allow their kids to be late to school frequently are doing them a terrible disservice. Sure, it's no big deal if you miss the first five minutes of school when you're in third grade—that's not the point. The problem is that the kid learns that there are no consequences for being late. "I come late every day, and nothing bad ever happens!" But it does start to matter in middle school and high school, and certainly beyond. What happens when you're late to the theater? The show starts without you and you don't get to go in until intermission. Late to your job interview? Back to Monster.com you go. Late to the airport? Plane goes bye-bye—without you.

I've mentioned before a wonderful management training course I took back in my in-house days. One of the things we learned—something that seems so simple when you take a minute to look at it—is not to reward behavior you don't want.* The classic example is the guy who arrives late to every meeting. What usually happens is that everyone waits around for him, thus reinforcing his assumption that his lateness is no problem. He has no incentive to arrive on time, because he knows that the meeting won't begin until he gets there. It's very likely that this is a completely subconscious realization—he doesn't come late as some sort of power play, he comes late because he can. In our course we learned to begin the meeting even if it means that important input is missing or that material will need to be gone over again. When the guy walks in, he'll find that someone is mid-sentence, and that he has no idea what went on already. Let him know that his lateness does matter—and that it's not a good thing.

I remember an open house with the middle-school principal and all the parents of incoming middle-schoolers. After a brief introduction and the first few few questions and answers, a mom entered the meeting, late, and had the nerve to ask a question—which just happened to be something we'd already covered! The principal was gracious and re-answered the question without hesitation, but the rest of us were scowling. At the very least, the mom should have prefaced the question with, "I apologize in advance if you answered the following question before I got here, but...." But no, as far as she was concerned, the meeting began when she got there.

Be respectful of other people's time. It might not seem like a big deal to you if you're five minutes late, but there may be repercussions you can't even fathom. You might have set in motion a domino effect that will take the rest of the day to right. Or you might just piss someone off.

*As with most things I learned from this course, not rewarding unwanted behavior also happens to be one of the keys to parenting. If your kid whines for a cookie and you say no, whines for a cookie and you say no, whines for a cookies and you say no, whines for a cookie and you say yes, guess what the kid learns? Whining works. Think about it.

Present and Accounted For

I do lots of volunteering at school, but I have a few regular gigs.

My favorite volunteer position is at the elementary school library. Once a week I get to fulfill my librarian fantasies ("Yes, I can help you locate that book! Yes, I'd be happy to shelve these books in their appropriate spots! Yes, I'd love to scan these books and put them on the cart!") and I get to spy on my kids and their friends. (That's in elementary school—in middle school I get to do only the librarian-ish things; there's no interaction with the kids.)

This is the first year that I'm not doing the elementary school newsletter. It turned into a lot more chasing down information than editing, so I begged off this year. I can't tell you how gleeful I get when I receive the newsletter each week—and I didn't have anything to do with it!

My new slot is on the Safe Arrival team. There's a dedicated voice-mail line reserved for phone calls about student absences. If you know your kid is going to be absent, you're supposed to call that number and leave a message. The outgoing message gives specific instructions that you're to give the date, your kid's name, and your kid's teacher's name. (We're going to add an instruction to say whether your kid has flu-like symptoms, to save the nurse from having to make a lot of phone calls in an effort to track H1N1.) My job is to listen to all the voice mails first thing in the morning and then check the attendance sheets as they come down from the teachers. Any student who is not present but whose parent has not called goes on a list, and the secretary has to call to find out what's what. I also have to check the bus list; if any student who is absent normally takes the bus, I have to indicate that on the master list so they don't wait for someone who's not there. There are also loads of notes about kids going home with other kids after school, and I have to check those too. Just before I hand it all over, I check the late sign-in sheet and mark all those kids present but tardy.

Sounds pretty straightforward, no? You'd be surprised. First of all, we occasionally get messages where the parents don't give us enough information. "Hi, this is Sue. Jack's still sick. Thanks!" Um, Sue who? Jack who? Same with the notes: "Caroline will go home with Emma today, instead of taking the bus. Thanks, Liz." Thanks for that information, but who are we talking about?

I find that this is a perfect example of people who don't follow rules because they have no idea why the rules are in place. If these people saw what we have to go through to track down each kid and make sure that no one is missing and that the bus lists are complete, they'd probably be better about following them. I hope so, anyhow.

One of the fun things about this job is that I very quickly got to know who brings their kids to school late every single day and who never remembers to call when their kids will be absent. Aha! I eye them superciliously on the playground at pickup time.

Beginning Anew

I did not fast today for Yom Kippur; I haven't fasted in years. The point of fasting (as least as far as I recall) is so that you can allow yourself to focus only the spiritual aspects of the holy day instead of the physical. I fasted for many Yom Kippurs, but I found that all the fast did was make me keenly aware of how hungry I was. I became grouchy and distracted instead of calm and inward-focused. The fast ended up becoming "the thing" instead of eliminating "the thing." So I gave up the fast many years ago.

Today I made a point to tell my family members that I was sorry for anything I'd done in the past year that was hurtful or wrong. I apologized. I promised to try harder this year, to do better. I encouraged them to do the same—what a great religion this is, where you can start fresh with a clean slate every single year! If you truly atone for your sins, both publicly and privately, you are absolved.

Here I go.

Pre-Teen Shopping

Today I took Steph to the dreaded mall to get a dress for the Bat Mitzvah she's going to in October. The dress had to be suitable for both temple and an afternoon party, as well as appealing to Steph, plus it had to fit well and look decent—and not break the bank. So off we went to Macy's—first time I'd ever been there.

The juniors' dress department contained all—and I mean all, not mostly—strapless dresses and dresses with spaghetti straps. Wow. I vetoed all the strapless dresses (she'd be hiking up the front all day), all the really short dresses (not terribly flattering or practical, and not appropriate for temple, at least in my mind), and all the dresses that seemed too fancy for daytime. We brought six dresses into the fitting room, where, to our mutual pleasant surprise, three of them were really not bad at all. One we ruled out because the top part was white, which is just asking for trouble (read: stains), and one because Steph didn't love it (although I did). We ended up with a purple dress that I still can't believe my kid fits into and likes and looks good in.

We then picked out earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet to go with it. At that point I was cooked, so we'll have to wait on shoes, pantyhose, a clutch or other small bag, and some sort of little jacket or sweater to go over the dress during the Bat Mitzvah ceremony itself (I think that will be the biggest challenge—I was hoping to find a dress that came with its own over-thing).

We then had to go to the dreaded Hollister, because Steph wanted to get her friend a gift card. The choice of gift cards included the following photos: (1) a topless young man, (2) a young man with his shirt wide open, and (3) a topless man about to kiss a fully-clothed young woman. I asked the sales clerk if there wasn't perhaps a gift card with a photo of just a fully clothed young woman (or man for that matter), but he said no, so I chose (3) because at least someone was dressed in it.

I've Fallen* and I Can't Get Up!

A few days ago I was coming down the stairs when all of a sudden someone thrust a spear through my kneecap—or at least that's how it felt. After that, whenever I would go down the stairs, I had both a sharp pain and a feeling of instability in that knee. By yesterday I was taking the stairs in a sort of spastic crab-walk style. I had no problem going up the stairs or walking on a flat surface, so I knew there wasn't any kind of terrible injury.

Then, last night, as I came down the stairs after putting Pete to bed, my knee just buckled, and down I went. It was very scary while I was mid-fall, because I had time to think, "This could be really bad," but by the time I landed, I knew that no serious damage had been done. I managed to not twist or whack my back or neck, but I did land hard on my butt, so hard that I saw stars. Andy heard the thud-thud-THUD and came tearing in from the kitchen to find me sitting on the landing, holding back tears.

I feared that I would wake up this morning with whiplash (or worse), but all I have is a bruise like you can't imagine—and it's gotten more colorful and dramatic as the day wears on. I think this qualifies as a contusion. If it weren't on my butt, I'd post a photo for your empathy and vicarious wincing.

And, weirdly enough, now my knee barely hurts when I go down the stairs.

*What ad-copywriting genius decided that an elderly person lying in a tangled puddle in the bathtub would be likely to use the perfect tense when calling for help?

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Back to Tupelo - Mark Knopfler
2. The Cool, Cool River (live) - Paul Simon
3. Red Rocking Chair - Doc & Merle Watson
4. Ranking Full Stop - English Beat
5. Green Flower Street (live) - Donald Fagen
6. Road to Kaintuck - Billy Bob Thornton & the Peasall Sisters
7. That Girl - Stevie Wonder
8. Anodyne (live) - Uncle Tupelo
9. Souls Like the Wheels - The Avett Brothers
10. In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel

Catching Up

I finally got that new project off my desk today! It was really enjoyable and rewarding to work on, and I look forward to being able to tell you what it was about (I'll have to ask the client when it's safe to divulge).

While I was in deadline mode, I sorely neglected my family, my house, and my many other obligations—one of which is to provide you with all kinds of interesting little tidbits that I find around the Web (although if you follow me on Twitter, you probably saw most of these). So, without further ado:

• Things we wish we could say on Facebook. (via @leighhouse)
• Look, nothing but photos of Tic-Tacs stuck in their little boxes.
• I think I would retch if I had to drink my tea out of this mug.
• "It Made My Day: Little Moments of WIN."
• Lucinda Williams got married onstage at a recent concert!
• Wowee, a map of Enfield as it exists in Infinite Jest, superimposed on the real map of Boston. (Warning: If you haven't read the book and plan to, the annotations on the map do contain some plot spoilers.)
• Speaking of Twitter, I check in here once or twice a day to scan the "most favorited" (sorry) tweets. There's some really funny stuff. Here was my own funniest tweet yesterday, which somehow did not make the leaderboard (harumph):

(For the record, I don't favorite tweets, but apparently lots of people do. I also don't use favorite as a verb in real life.)

Barfing Makes the World Go 'Round

I think that the CDC should use my blog stats to plot the transmission of the 24-hour stomach bug around the world. My very first post ever (well, the one right after the one where I say, "Is this thing on?") was a humorous piece about what it's like when someone in the family is puking all day. It remains my most-visited blog post of all time, although I'm sure that all those people who are retching their guts out are wishing for a little more constructive advice than I offer.

In the last 6 hours alone, I've had Googlers find that post from England, Scotland, Vermont, and Hawaii.

(While we're on the subject, I also hope that Tonya and JDub have concluded their own Barfestival.)

She Flies Through the Air with the Greatest of Ease

Remember when we were little* and we had birthday parties at our houses, with games like pin the tail on the donkey, followed by cake and ice cream? Yeah, well.

On Sunday Julie was invited to go to a trapeze party. Howzat? A trapeze party! Apparently the Jordan's Furniture store in Reading has the nation's only indoor trapeze school! Who knew?

I was nervous about letting her go, but the mom of the birthday girl assured me that they'd done it before, and it's incredibly safe and well-run and really, really fun. Julie, who as you know is not afraid of heights, was game, so I let her go.

I remember when she learned to walk. Now she can fly:

*Which reminds me of this funny list of the 10 Best Things We'll Say to Our Grandkids.

Let Them Eat Apple Cake

Here's the recipe for that apple cake I made for Rosh Hashanah (it's pareve for those who keep kosher). I've heard that we can expect an exceptionally good apple crop this fall, so this is an ideal way to take advantage of that yumminess.

There's no photo to accompany the recipe, because my cake was delicious but not destined to win any beauty contests. I couldn't figure out why the recipe didn't call for the layers to go into the Bundt pan in reverse order, since the cake gets flipped over when it comes out. Sure enough, when I took the cake out of the oven, the top was all sugar-cinnamony-apple gorgeousness, but then I had to flip it over onto that side, and the new top (formerly the bottom) was just plain ol' brown. (Yes, I tried to turn it back over, but it was the wrong shape to sit that way.) Now I see that the recipe calls for a tube pan, not a Bundt pan, so it's surely meant to end up the same way it went in. In other words, you would unmold the cake onto your hand and then quickly put it back down on the cooling rack, still right-side-up. Update (9/30/09): A friend told me this morning that she made the cake in a tube pan and it turned out great! Update (9/17/12): This time I made it in my usual Bundt pan but with everything in reverse order, which worked OK except that some of the apples and cinnamon in the bottom of the pan (which turned out to be the top of the cake) got a little stuck. No one seemed to mind.

Apple Cake

2 cups sugar (divided use)
1 tsp cinnamon (I used a little more.)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
⅓ cup orange juice
2½ tsp vanilla
4 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup vegetable oil
3 apples, peeled, cored, and thinly sliced (I used 4.)

Heat oven to 350°. Grease and flour a 9- or 10-inch tube pan.

In a small bowl, mix ½ cup of the sugar and the cinnamon and set aside.

Sift the flour, the baking powder, and the remaining 1½ cups of sugar into a large bowl. Stir in the orange juice, vanilla, eggs, and oil; mix until smooth.

Layer ¼ of the batter in the pan—it will be gloppy, but you can spread it out as needed with damp fingers—followed by ¼ of the apple slices and then ¼ of the sugar-cinnamon mixture. Repeat the layers 3 more times, making sure the top layer will look pretty for the camera.

Bake for 50 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. (I had to tent the top with foil and let it go another 5 minutes.) Let the cake cool for 10 minutes in the pan before unmolding onto a rack to cool completely. You might need to run a knife around the edges of the pan and the tube to loosen it up before unmolding.

Infinite Autumn

As the week before last came to a close, I realized that with only about 50 pages to go in Infinite Jest, the planets had aligned perfectly so that I would finish the book on September 12, exactly one year to the day since David Foster Wallace's death. How fitting! But it was not to be. A few little things like "family obligations" and "work" butted in, and the next thing I knew, September 12 had come and gone.

Anyhow, I finished yesterday, still well within the Infinite Summer deadline. As eager as I was to keep reading, I did not want it to end, because now I will never again get to read about Don Gately, Joelle Van Dyne, Hal Incandenza, and all the rest—until I reread, that is.

I'm not going to provide any spoilers here, but I will say that the ending did not satisfy my need to know more about these people and how their stories connect. I'm told that that's why people reread this book ... again and again.

I want to thank the folks at Infinite Summer for pushing me to finally tackle this daunting book. I am a better person for having read it—really! If nothing else, I learned more about addiction and "identifying" from this book than I ever thought I would as an "outsider." But there is something else—I worked hard as a reader of this book, with words and puns and allusions and connections, and I'm proud that I rose to the task.

I don't expect Andy to read this book (not his thing), but I've already flagged a few sections for him to read, just so he can get a feel for what I've been crowing about for 3 months now. The humor alone is worth sharing.

DFW, wherever you are now, thank you for writing this book and for inspiring me to push myself beyond the bounds of what I normally consider "reading material." I hope you are at peace.

Happy—Achoo!—New Year!

Yesterday at about 5:30, I felt that tiny hint of a pinprick in my throat that means I'm about to get sick. I quickly assaulted my system with zinc lozenges, Cold-Eez lozenges, homeopathic cold tablets, and homeopathic cold liquid, but to no avail. I had a horrible night's sleep, with a thickly coated yet burning throat.

And that's how I rang in the New Year! L'shanah tovah to all who are celebrating! We always wish everyone a happy and healthy year, but I will have to begin the "healthy" part in a few days.

For the first time ever, we went to the Family Service at our temple, which was blessedly short—since by that time my throat was fine, but I had entered the runny nose stage. Yes, I was that annoying lady who kept sneezing and blowing her nose during the Sh'mah. On the way in, I said to the rabbi, "I thought of you this morning! I was imagining what if I were the rabbi or cantor and woke up sick on Rosh Hashanah!" He said, "It happens. You know what we do? We just do it." It's not like rescheduling a meeting or something.

We had a lovely meal at Lauren's, although I really felt crappy and my head was pounding. I made a nice apple cake from a recipe Janet gave me, but I'll have to share it with you another day because I'm going to go curl up on the couch with the Sox now.

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Bartender's Blues - George Jones & James Taylor
2. City of New Orleans - Steve Goodman & John Prine
3. Thrice All American - Neko Case & Her Boyfriends
4. Paradise - John Prine
5. Genius of Love - Tom Tom Club
6. Faith on the Table - Martin Sexton
7. Precious Memories - Emmylou Harris
8. Shipbuilding - Elvis Costello
9. Blues on a Holiday - Paul Rishell
10. Fuel for Fire - M. Ward

Such a Loss

Remember last week when I was thinking about cancer? I was imagining how, as a parent, I could possibly explain it to my kids—and then somehow cope with a long, protracted illness. What I wasn't thinking about at all was one of those sudden, here-one-minute, gone-the-next things. Which is what happened to a dad here in our neighborhood. He died from an aneurysm over the weekend. One minute he's playing with his seven-year-old twins (one of whom is in Julie's class at school), and the next he's unconscious.

Our community here is in shock. He was a beloved neighbor, friend, coach, and doctor, and it's still just unthinkable that he's gone. The principal and school psychologist spoke to all the kids in grades 1–3 about what happened, and they've made counseling resources available to anyone who might need them. There's no shortage of people signing up at the Lotsa Helping Hands site, but what can we really do besides bring over groceries and meals, walk the dog, take the kids for playdates?

I told Julie that an aneurysm is such a rare thing that this is the first person I've ever known who had one, but the more people I speak to, the more I realize that I'm very lucky. Everyone else seems to know at least one other person who had one—nearly all of whom died. I'm usually a very good worrier, but this one has put me over the edge.

Can Ya, Kanye?

You know I am not so terribly up on the latest pop-culture crap (well, unless it has to do with these here Internet Tubes), but you'd have to be living under a rock with no wi-fi not to hear about Kanye West's disgraceful behavior the other night. Yes, Mr. President, "jackass" pretty much sums it up.

Check out all the amazingly funny and creative submissions to "I'mma Let You Finish," and then please tell Kanye to get off my blog!

(True story: Steph wrote a letter from camp this summer asking me to send her some "Kanye glasses." This required me to be the nerdy mom at Newbury Comics asking the multi-pierced and tattooed clerk what the heck this meant. Yes, I bought them for her. Heaven forbid my daughter should be the only kid without her field of vision slashed into narrow horizontal strips!)

(Another true story: I could not, if my life depended on it, name a single song by Kanye West.)

Calgon ... I'm Too Busy to Type the Rest of the Slogan

The only thing that makes me feel a little less bad about what I consider my lame-o blogging of late is that nearly every other blog I read regularly is also apologizing for the recent quantity and quality of posts (or lack of same). Apparently I'm not the only one who feels as though a dam has burst and I'm barely staying afloat.

This new project is a dream. I can't divulge the topic just yet, but it is near and dear to my heart. Honestly, I'd have been willing to work on almost anything to get an "in" with this publisher, so I still need to pinch myself that I landed such a plum gig. However, the deadline is fast approaching, and I will need every available hour in the next week to get it done. I don't ever do anything half-assed, but I feel the need to be extra-super-duper-lucky-special-magic meticulous on this one.

Back-to-school season brings with it all those positions I volunteered for last spring, parents' nights (two evenings next week, of course, when I should be working instead), and homework help. Then there's all the schlepping: Pete and Julie are both doing soccer; Pete's on the travel team this year, so he has two practices and one game each week. Julie will eventually have one practice and one game (if it doesn't rain every weekend, that is). Julie also has piano lessons. All three kids have Hebrew school (Pete and Julie on Sunday mornings, Steph on Sunday afternoons, and Steph and Pete on Tuesday afternoons at different times), and Steph has Bat Mitzvah tutoring once a week. Oh, and she's going to start a hip-hop dance class next week. Julie was supposed to take an art class, but it got canceled—and I'm more than a wee bit relieved, to tell you the truth!

Then there's all the Bat Mitzvah preparation I mentioned yesterday, plus more—for instance, I have to somehow find perfect dresses for us three gals (respectable enough for temple but fun enough for the reception), plus something other than basketball shorts, a faded Red Sox T-shirt, and high-tops for Pete. (Andy will wear The Suit, so at least I don't have to worry about him.)

Oh, and did you know it's Rosh Hashanah this weekend? We're going to Lauren's, and I'm going to bring a cake and cookies ... which I'll bake in my sleep, I guess.

BM* Update

Well, Bat Mitzvah season is officially here: Today Steph received her first Bat Mitzvah invitation! She said she was relieved because she had nightmares that she wouldn't be invited to any (me too). (She also said she has nightmares that no one will come to hers. Me too.) Today was also her first post-summer tutoring session, which she said went well.

Last week someone put me into a panic that we hadn't ordered invitations yet, so I quickly got in touch with an Invitation Lady, who assured me that I still have plenty of time. I got a quickie lesson on the vast range of invitation choices, and learned that you can spend as little or as much as you want. Apparently some people spend hundreds of dollars just to add a shiny liner to the invitation envelope, because we all know that ... everyone immediately throws away the envelope. (Am I right? I'm right.) Then there are options for endless series of envelopes within envelopes, and if you're not careful you end up needing four stamps to send out each one! I'd rather give those hundreds to charity, I think.

Speaking of charity, I'm trying to come up with an idea for table centerpieces that will tie in to Steph's Ma'asim Tovim ("good things" = community service) project, which is working with kids at Project Literacy. I was thinking of getting a bunch of children's books and wrapping them up with pretty cellophane and ribbons and a balloon for each table, then donating them to a needy school system later. That would make me feel a lot better than buying a bunch of flowers that will be dead in 36 hours.

So, to recap: Venue? Booked. Caterer, DJ, photographer? Hired. Invitation Lady? Contacted. Everything else? Not yet thought of.

4.5 months to go. EEK!

*Sorry, but that's the obvious abbreviation and is all over my calendar and notes.

Burning the Midnight Oil

I had planned to spend all day today working, since I have to submit my first sample edited manuscript tomorrow for my new client to review. However, 'twas not to be. This morning I had to go to a special welcome program at Hebrew school for parents of grades K–5; that was 90 minutes. Then, as soon as I got back, it was time to head over to Fenway again for the 12:05 makeup game of Friday's rain-out! We decided that I should take the 3 kids because Julie isn't likely to want to try a night game anytime soon; plus, I am much more into the Sox and the Fenway experience than Andy, and his back was bothering him anyhow. So off we went.

It was a gorgeous day to be at Fenway. I told you that our seats are protected by the overhang above so we don't get rained on, but that also means that we are in the shade—which was a blessing on a very bright day like today. I do all the die-hard Sox-fan stuff when I'm there (sing "Sweet Caroline," do the wave, bellow "Youk! Youk! Youk!", dance to the Dropkick Murphys when Papelbon comes out, etc.). It was a great game—we won 3-1—and quick, too, which was just as well, because we had to make a bee-line out of there and tear over to Pete's soccer field for the makeup of his first game, which got rained out yesterday. Andy met us there, so I could zing home and unwind for 5 seconds before heading back to the temple for the special welcome program at Hebrew school for parents of grades 6–7.

Then, after grabbing some takeout Chinese, I was finally able to begin my "full day" of work at about 7:00pm. As CalifMom advised on Twitter, "Time to redefine 'day."'

While I'm dotting i's and crossing t's, you can look at this lovely shot I took of my kids right after Pedroia hit a homer:

Wet Sox

Yesterday afternoon I wrote and then deleted a whiny post about the prospects for last night's Sox game, which we had tickets to. It had been overcast and sprinkling off and on all day, and I had prepared a list of possible outcomes from the best ("The weather miraculously clears up and we have a great night—and the Sox win!") to the worst ("We schlep all the way to Fenway, and then they postpone the game, and we sit there like idiots in the rain for 2 hours until they send us home."). So ... guess which scenario came to pass? Yep.

We had only 4 tickets, so Julie stayed with Barbara and Jerry (another component of Julie's recent sleep disturbances is a desire to go to bed earlier and earlier every night—we have to persuade her to wait until 7:00—so she was not even remotely disappointed that she couldn't go). Andy, Pete, Steph, and I grabbed a bite at O'Leary's and tried not to fret about the continued light rain as we headed over to Fenway to watch Jon Lester pitch against Tampa Bay.

The game was supposed to begin at 7:10, but it was 7:16 by the time they got the tarp off. Lester got off to a very rocky start, and the bases were loaded after the first three batters. Then, at 7:28, it started to pour, and they called for a rain delay. Back came the tarp! The heavy rain lasted only about 10 minutes, but they still didn't resume play. We sat there for an hour of no rain (or perhaps the lightest of sprinkling) wondering why they weren't playing. Then the rain got heavy again, and still we sat. Luckily, our seats are just under the overhang of the above box, so we were out of the actual rain, although the wind did whip a fine spray into our faces, and it was chilly.

We kept thinking that someone in a decision-making position must be watching the weather radar and have a good feeling that the rain was going to pass, so we waited. And waited some more. We waited while the PA system played every rain-related song you've ever imagined ("Raindrops Keeping Fallin' on My Head" is now permanently stuck in my brain). We waited while the couple behind us drank at least eight $7 beers each. We waited while they showed the Detroit-Toronto game on the JumboTron.

Finally, at 9:30, as the rain really started to come down, we cried "Uncle." Steph was furious, because she was convinced that as soon as we left, play would resume—and indeed, why would they be keeping us there if there wasn't at least a glimmer of hope that it would?—but we just couldn't see them unrolling the tarp and warming up Lester again only to get started after 10pm. We headed out, and by the time we got to the car, we heard that the game had indeed been officially called on account of rain just minutes after we left.

We were really annoyed! Granted, we didn't travel far, but some people sure did—they must have been livid! Did they keep us there just to make money for the concessions? They should have canceled the game at 4pm and not dragged every down there—and not made Lester waste a good warm-up and 20 pitches.

So there's a regularly scheduled game tonight, which we don't have tickets to. The regularly scheduled game tomorrow at 1:35 has been moved back to 5:05, and our tickets will be good for a game that will be played tomorrow at 12:05. I think they got this completely backward. All those people who had tickets to the 1:35 game are now going to an evening game, which is probably not going to work for plenty of them (I saw a comment online last night from a guy who was planning to drive up from New Jersey for the 1:35 game and then drive back; now he's faced with a late-night drive home). It seems more likely that someone who was planning to go to a 1:35 game could just as easily go to a 12:05 game, and those of us who had been planning to go to last night's game could probably go to a Sunday night game. Also, not for nothing, but Lester is pitching the 5:05 game, and I really would have liked to see him for more than half an inning (and a lousy half at that); we'll get Buchholtz instead at 12:05.

I haven't yet figured out how we'll work it out tomorrow, between Hebrew school and soccer practices (and a looming deadline for me), but at least the weather looks like it'll cooperate. (Speaking of weather, it's still raining now, and I even heard some thunder, so I wasn't surprised to learn that Pete and Julie won't have their first soccer games of the season this afternoon. Barbara and Jerry, on the other hand, are currently on their way down to the Cape for a Wampanoag beach wedding ... oy!)

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Another Nail in My Heart - Squeeze
2. Blinded by the Light (live) - Bruce Springsteen with the Sessions Band
3. Midnight Rider - Alison Krauss & Union Station
4. Can't Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound - Nanci Griffith
5. City of New Orleans - John Prine, Randy Scruggs, & Roger McGuinn
6. Chantez Les Bas (Sing 'Em Low) - Louis Armstrong
7. Old Number Seven - The Devil Makes Three
8. Odessa - Sam Baker
9. Sitting in Limbo - Willie Nelson  
10. Flyswatter/Ice Water Blues - Lyle Lovett

Thinking About the Unthinkable

This past year, three blogging pals (well, two blogging pals and one hubby of a blogging pal) were diagnosed with cancer. All of them are way younger than I am, and as far as I know, none of them have any particularly high risk factors. I'm happy to report that all are currently doing well.

Today I made a pledge for a friend who's running the Dana Farber half-marathon in memory of his 8-year-old daughter, who died of cancer exactly one year ago.

Earlier this summer I had a mini-scare—a symptom that turned out to be "nothing" but sure seemed like "something" for a little while there. It really does feel like a creepy, diabolical lottery sometimes. 

I sometimes "rehearse" an announcement that I have cancer (yes, I know, I'm really weird). I think about how I would word it. Then I try to imagine what it would be like to have my entire life suddenly zeroing in on this one goal. (Yes, I know there's no way to "practice" for such a thing; I can't explain why my brain does what it does.)

I just learned that the Newton-Wellesley Hospital has opened its brand-new Vernon Cancer Center so that patients will no longer have to drive downtown to get radiation. I'm told that the artwork inside this new facility is amazing; each piece of art was carefully chosen to convey a feeling of hope and healing. I hope I never have to take myself or anyone else there, but it's nice to know that it's just around the corner.

Odds & Ends

1. Julie, who didn't learn to sleep through the night until she was 18 months old, has been a superstar sleeper ever since then. She goes to bed early, sleeps all night, and wakes up happy—every single night. I don't think she's gotten up in the night 3 times in total since she was 18 months old. Until recently. All of a sudden, she's become aware of waking up during the night, and instead of just flipping her pillow and rolling over, she comes to me and claims that she hasn't fallen asleep yet at all. When I tell her that I peeked at her earlier and saw her sleeping, she insists that she was just "resting." She gets very upset and seems terrified that she'll be tired the next day. Every time it happens, I make a point to show her the next day that she's just fine and so she doesn't need to worry next time it happens, but of course she forgets. Poor kid, I hope this phase passes soon.

2. I have only about 50 pages left of Infinite Jest, and everything is finally coming together! I'm carefully rationing out these last few pages, because I know I'm going to feel bereft when it's done. I have a ton of bookmarked websites (analysis, interviews, etc.) to pore over once I'm done—I've avoided many of them because they contain spoilers. And after that? I guess I'll catch up on a summer's worth of New Yorker magazines.

3. The other night poor Pete thought he had picked up his glass of water, but when he took a big swig, he realized that it was my glass of vodka. He looked like one of those cartoon characters with flames coming out of all his orifices.

4. Did you see these photos of the wildfires in Southern California? Wow.

5. This cat looks like he could be a littermate of my own Gracie and Mr. Jones. Look how patient he is with that pesky kitten!

School Daze

When I was a kid, I looked forward to the first day of school the way other kids looked forward to Christmas (I know: nerd!)—and I still do now that I'm a mom. Granted, part of it is my eagerness to get them all out of the house after a little bit too much togetherness in recent weeks, but it's also just the excitement of buying school supplies, waiting to see which teacher and classmates we'll get, and watching the calendar fill up with practices and games, lessons and classes, and various volunteer gigs. The brisk nip to the air when we left the house this morning was just right for fall's biggest event (it was downright hot by the afternoon, but that's OK too).

As for me, I didn't mind one bit that my exciting new editing project didn't show up as expected. I went to the bank, post office, and supermarket. I did dishes and laundry. I answered email and paid bills and returned phone calls. All by myself! Wheee!

Fair Enough

As promised, a few shots from the fair on Saturday.

Andy captured Steph's and Pete's delight at being in a real helicopter (and I'd have liked to see his face too!):

 

 

Click here to see a very short video I took with my iPhone on the ferris wheel with Steph, Pete, and Julie:

Download IMG_0054

More on Games—and Winning

1. As long-time readers know, one tiny but enjoyable part of my daily routine is completing the online SET puzzle. SET is a card game that I discovered and fell in love with many years ago. Unfortunately, I could never find anyone to play it with (mostly because I'm really good at it), so I was delighted to find an online version. Every day I race against the clock to find the six "sets" and then enter the daily contest (which is a random drawing that has nothing to do with how fast you solve the puzzle). On Saturdays I try to complete it especially quickly, because that's when Deb holds her weekly challenge, just for fun. Oh, and there's also a batch of four SET puzzles (two easy-peasy and two regular) posted every day on the New York Times puzzle page.

As with the Trader Joe's thing back in June, I was starting to wonder whether anyone ever really won the random SET drawing—that is, until today! Yes, I won! I will be receiving Xactika, another card game from the same company (and of course I'll let you know what I think of it).

2. I've been playing Tetris ever since it was invented (1984)—or pretty darn close, anyhow. In the last few years, I've switched to the iPhone version, called Tris, which I prefer because you can slide the tiles with your fingertip and turn them by tapping, instead of having to use keys. (When I went to look for the link to Tris, I discovered that it was pulled from the iTunes store last year, so I hope you already have it.) Anyhow, I play Tris whenever I have a few minutes to wait in line to pick up the kids at Hebrew school or during Julie's piano lesson or whatever. I love it and am quite good at it, so I was happy to learn of a recent study that found that "regularly playing the video game Tetris may increase gray matter in your brain and make you think more efficiently." Yay! (Bonus: I also love this human Tetris video.)

A Fair Day

For the bazillionth year in a row, we spent a fun, exhausting day at the Lancaster Fair today. We did all the usual stuff—ride rickety rides, give cash to carnies for junky prizes, eat fried dough, feed baby goats, gamble away our life savings on the quarters machine, and so on. We also added two new activities:

1. Way up: The kids and I rode the ferris wheel! It was fun! I don't know why I'd been afraid to do it before. The view was spectacular. (Photos and videos currently held hostage on iPhone—forgot to email them to myself before we got back to the house, where there's no AT&T service, and forgot to bring cord to sync iPhone directly to MacBook.)

2. Even wayer up: Andy, Pete, and Steph rode in a real helicopter! They loved it!

It was a hot, sunny day, and we came home positively cooked. Good night.

Friday iPod Random Ten

1. Canned Heat Blues - Paul Rishell
2. Jambalaya - Lucinda Williams
3. Will The Circle Be Unbroken - Ralph Stanley
4. Take Me I'm Yours - Squeeze
5. Camptown Races - The Duhks
6. Shake Sugaree - Chris Smither
7. I Don't Blame You - Cat Power
8. Silver & Gold - Joe Strummer & The Mescalaros
9. Goodnight Irene - The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band (featuring Willie Nelson & Tom Petty)
10. Long Black Veil - The Band

Countdown to School

Today I ticked off the last few items from our back-to-school list. New lock for Steph's locker? Done. Haircut for Pete? Check. Try to clean Julie's lunchbox? Well ... not so much, but it'll probably be fine.

Then we headed over to the elementary school for the annual meet-and-greet, which for us this year was more of a hug-fest, since we already know Pete and Julie's teachers. We made a point to visit all our old teachers too, including the kindergarten teacher all three kids had—she did an especially dramatic double-take when she saw how tall Steph has gotten!

Now that the summer is more or less over, I am so ready for school to start. I just love getting back into the routine. 5 days to go....

Freelance Gamers

We had so much fun this afternoon (well, except for Andy, who was at work)! Remember when Emily at Gamewright introduced us to some of their games last month? Well, today, Jason came by to show us prototypes for a couple of new games in the pipeline.

Steph, Pete, Julie, and I sat around the kitchen table while Jason observed us, taking notes on what we liked and didn't like, what we did and didn't understand, and so on. First we played a really cute card game—twice. It was very easy to learn how to play, but I could tell that there were some strategical points that would come after even more rounds.

Then we played a very complex game that required us to collaborate in order to "win." We loved this game—and we really could have used Andy, who is great at this sort of thing. I think it was a wee bit over Julie's level; Pete was quite good at it, but I think his head was ready to explode by the end of the game (this was the hardest he has had to think all summer!); Steph surprised me by really liking it even though it required strategy and advance planning (not her strong suits); and I found I had to restrain myself from being bossy—and I'm not sure I was successful at that. This was truly a unique and fascinating game.

The kids said they'd like to own both games when they come out, which I think is high praise indeed. We invited Jason to come back anytime that he needs game testers. Oh, and he left us with another new game, Tiki Topple, which we intend to try out tomorrow—stay tuned for our review.

A New Dinnertime Favorite

Last week Steph spent a night at her best friend's house, and she came home raving about the dinner they had. The recipe comes from Giada De Laurentiis, and it was a big winner in our own home last night. (Thanks, Devora!)

It takes a fair amount of work, but none of it is technically difficult. Pete and Julie had fun making the little meatballs with me, although letting them handle raw meat gives me the howling fantods. ("Don't touch anything!") Pete knows this, so he kept taunting me by saying, "Note to self: This is not cookie dough! Do not put it in your mouth!"

As soon as we finished dinner, Julie asked hopefully, "Will there be leftovers?" (Yes—it makes a lot.) I can't believe I forgot to take a photo—it was very pretty. Here's a photo that I think does it justice.

Orecchiette with Mini Chicken Meatballs

¼ cup plain bread crumbs
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon whole milk
1 tablespoon ketchup
¾ cup freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese
¾ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 pound ground chicken
¼ cup olive oil
1 pound orecchiette pasta
1½ cups low-sodium chicken broth
4 cups cherry tomatoes, halved (I used 2 pint-size containers.)
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese, divided use (But as you will see below, I used only ½ cup total.)
8 ounces bocconcini (small fresh mozzarella balls), halved (If you can find only large ones, just cut 'em smaller.)
1 cup chopped fresh basil leaves, divided use (But as you will see below, I used only ½ cup total.)

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat for the pasta.

In a medium bowl, combine the bread crumbs, parsley, eggs, milk, ketchup, Pecorino, salt, and pepper. Add the chicken and mix well with your hands. With a melon baller or a teaspoon measure, scoop mixture and roll into ¾-inch mini meatballs.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Working in batches, add the meatballs and cook 4 minutes or until browned, turning over halfway through cooking. Transfer meatballs to plate once they are browned.

Meanwhile, add the pasta to the pot of boiling water and cook until tender but still firm to the bite, stirring occasionally, 8–10 minutes. When the pasta is done, stick your Pyrex measuring cup right in the pot and reserve some of the pasta water before draining pasta in colander.

When all the meatballs are done, pour off any fat remaining in skillet. Increase heat to medium-high and return all meatballs to skillet; add the chicken broth and tomatoes and bring to a boil, stirring to loosen any browned bits. Reduce the heat to low and simmer until the tomatoes are soft and the meatballs are cooked through, about 5 minutes.

Transfer the drained pasta to a large serving bowl and add ½ cup of the Parmesan. Toss to coat the orecchiette lightly, adding ¼ cup reserved pasta water (or more if necessary) to help make a sauce. Add the meatball mixture, bocconcini, and ½ cup of the basil and combine. Garnish with the remaining ½ cup each of Parmesan and basil. (I didn't do this last bit of garnishing—there seemed to be plenty of both in there.)