iBeth

Space Race

As I was packing, Emma hopped into the room on her bouncing pony, wearing the spacesuit she'd made in preschool from a cereal box / paper towel tubes (backpack) and a plastic gallon jug (helmet).

"Excuse me," she said, "I am an astronaut.  Do you know where my sister is?  I am looking for her in outer space."

"Maybe she is by Venus or Mercury," I suggested.

"No, I think she is by Pluto.  I will go find her," Emma said.  Then she hopped out of the room.

(She looked over my shoulder just now and suggested the title "Space Race" instead of what I'd written "Adventures in Space.")

Going to Sweden

I'll be away from the 'net for the next week or so, while I travel to Sweden for my sister's wedding.  She and her fiance live in the U.S., but they will get married at his parents' house in Rattvik (an English site is here).   I'm so happy that I'll be able to attend!

On my last day in Sweden, a friend from Helsinki will travel to Stockholm and we'll meet f2f for the first time.  She and I have been corresponding on a mom's list for about five years now.

All in all, it should be a great trip, assuming my unorthodox plane tickets will get me there and back w/o incident.  I purchased a ticket to Paris on one airline with 100,000 frequent flyer miles, then spent cash to fly AirFrance from Paris to Stockholm.  The separate tickets mean that I can't check luggage through, so I sent my clothes ahead with my sister.  Traveling that far with no checked luggage probably means that I'll be tagged as a terrorist.  Hello, cavity searches.  But it's worth it to be there when my sister gets married.

Of course I'll miss my family a great deal.  Next time, I hope everyone can travel with me.

So . . . wish me luck!  I'll check in when I return.

That's My Determined Girl

Last night, in a fit of overtired hysteria, Emma tossed a little stuffed cow into the air, where it got stuck on top some window blinds.  We told her that daddy would retrieve the cow when she was ready for bed. 

Daddy rescued the cow during her shower.  Sadly, at the last moment before she would have been reunited, Emma paused, pajamas in hand, to demand the precise location of the cow.  Another tantrum later, when she had finally donned those pajamas, we informed her that the cow was in the drawer of the coffee table.

She didn't believe it.  "Daddy wouldn't  put it there."

"Yes, he did, and that's where it is.  Go get it."

"Oh no he didn't."

"OK, then don't get it.  Go to bed without the cow."

"But I *need* the cow and it's NOT in the coffee table drawer."

Emma had numerous reasons for her position--the cow didn't belong there, the drawer wasn't big enough, and so forth.  Inevitably, the debate slid into another tantrum, and still she refused to look, preferring instead to tearfully insist that daddy and I tell her where the cow *really* was.  When we persuaded her to open the drawer, the cow popped out, and she was silent for a moment. 

Then she said, "I knew it was in there."

[Her daddy reports that she said, "I knew it wouldn't fit in there" because the cow popped out when the drawer was opened.  Either way, she sure showed us her determination.]

I Like Spoilers

Maggi writes about an inept spoiler alert that spoiled the latest Harry Potter book for her.  You're right, Maggi--spoilers are supposed to make you scroll down!  What was up with THAT?

But I confess, I prefer being spoiled.  I frequently read endings of novels first.  I can relax and enjoy the book more when I know what's going to happen.  Surely I'm not the only one who does this? 

My husband (who has read none of the Potter books but who has watched all the movies) encountered the HP spoiler the day after the book came out, and I made him reveal it to me asap.

About the latest Harry Potter, however . . . well, it's clear from the latest books in the series that editors are afraid to touch Rowling's prose.  Too bad.  Lots of dragging exposition, characters behaving like stereotypes of themselves, and too much of the plot motivated by characters doing stupid things, against the clear advice of people who know better (aka--an "idiot plot"--the story wouldn't happen if the protagonist didn't act like an idiot).

Not that it matters.  I'll read the rest of the series, and so will everyone else in the known universe.  And I confess I was thrilled to get the latest installment on Tues. July 19, despite the fact that I was # 857 on a list of more than 900 at my library.  (How many copies did they purchase?  *boggle*)

Phantom Scribbler has an interesting thread on the latest HP.  And I want the HP-related bumper sticker that La Lecturess spotted.

. . . and Macy's Makes Me Puke

What was the Macy's buyer thinking?  For that matter, why would a company called "Self Esteem" "Too Shy" market these incredibly offensive "Math Makes Me Dizzy" t-shirts?  Federated Department Stores has a contact form: Tell them what you think. 

Shower = Tragedy

My girls prefer baths--as you can see from this reaction to learning that they'd be taking a quick shower with me before bed.

Where I've Been

James at Left Coast Unitarian has played the state game, as have others.  Now that I look at my list, I am itching to travel again.  Pretty soon the kids will be the perfect family vacation age. 

bold the states you've been to, underline the states you've lived in and italicize the state you're in now . . .

Alabama / Alaska / Arizona / Arkansas / California / Colorado / Connecticut / Delaware / Florida / Georgia / Hawaii / Idaho / Illinois / Indiana / Iowa / Kansas / Kentucky / Louisiana / Maine / Maryland / Massachusetts / Michigan / Minnesota / Mississippi / Missouri / Montana / Nebraska / Nevada / New Hampshire / New Jersey / New Mexico / New York / North Carolina / North Dakota / Ohio / Oklahoma / Oregon / Pennsylvania / Rhode Island / South Carolina / South Dakota / Tennessee / Texas / Utah / Vermont / Virginia / Washington / West Virginia / Wisconsin / Wyoming / Washington D.C. /

Go HERE to have a form generate the HTML for you.

Minor(ity) Report

Murderrr . . . . Mmmmuuurrrrrrrderrrrrrrr . . . . .

As I was surfing the web, failing to locate images of the Minority Report pre-cogs, I came across this site about the plot goof that bedeviled me when I saw the movie . . . and an amusing collection of four-word film reviews.  (My favorite for this movie: "Soggy psychic siblings prognosticate.")

Where's Amelia?

"Where's Amelia?" her daddy asked. 

"I thought she was with you!"

We started looking through the house, calling, "Amelia! Amelia--what are you doing?" No response.

Not in the family room. Not in the bedroom. Not in the nursery. Not in the kids bathroom. Not in the office.  Could she have gone outside? Surely we would have heard the door chime. Getting a little worried now. More frantic searching. Then--success!

"I wanted to go swimming," she explained. 

We put childproof knobs on the bathtub the very next day.

(Not that long ago, we were searching for Emma, with another surprising result.)

Amelia Opens the Door

Something new to worry about.  (Thank goodness for doorknob covers and house alarm door chimes.)