Tuesday, December 18, 2012

definitions: redial


It's double-definition Tuesday again, and all I've got for your is a singleton, but a double photo to make up for that.

self-portrait, with daughter

redial - verb, to remove things from your cell phone.

usage:

(the girls are in the back seat as we drive through rain-verging-on-sleet towards Olympia and their Aunt, Uncle and cousins. I'm piloting solo, and luckily both girls have brought along cell phones, some old, discarded phones that M and I have graduated beyond. The girls are playing "horses" which means they're characters from Saddle Club, and are discussing their problems with Veronica.)

K: I can't believe it!
L: What?! K, are we still playing horses?
K (slightly annoyed): Yes! Stevie, can you believe it? Look at this! Veronica sent me a message saying that she never wanted to see us again!
L: Oh yeah. Can you believe it? I have one too. It says that she doesn't like us and she hates us and she never wants to see us again, ever!
K (huffing): Well, we'll see about that!
L: Yeah, we'll see. 
K: I'm going to...
L: I'm just redialing that message and all these pictures of her. K! K! I mean Lisa! I have this video of her falling into... (stage whisper) horse manure!
K: Oh yeah! I can't believe that girl!
L: Me either. I can't believe that girl! Veronica!! K! Pretend that I have a different video and it's of her falling into mud and horse manure and getting her new clothes and boots all messy.
K: Ok.
L: Lisa! Lisa! I have this different video of Veronica and it's of her falling into mud and horse manure and getting her new clothes and boots all messy!!
K: Yeah. She is just too much!
L: Yeah, she is just too much!!
me (torn between not wanting to interrupt a good thing, and needing to know for certain the meaning of "redial"): Why don't you just delete them then? 
L (somewhat put out by my denseness): Daddy! I am. I already said that. I'm redialing everything!
me: Oh, ok. (time to refocus on the road ahead)

Sunday, December 16, 2012

sister sunday, holiday science edition

Yes, it's another twisted sister sunday, and this morning we celebrate the holiday season by doing a science experiment that involves flour and sugar and butter and which may result in cookies or possibly just in a big mess.

But before the chaos, a photo for our friend Julie, who gave the girls these aprons for just this sort of thing (the holiday science project/baking experience):


Thanks Julie!

Thursday, December 6, 2012

... i'm hanging on...


... to a solid rock!

the rock in question

A morning conversation:

(K & L are getting ready to dash out to the car through the pouring rain. I'm trailing behind, still getting my shoes on, home because I'm sick).

L (coming back into the house, holding a dripping stone that might be sandstone but just as likely is worn concrete): Daddy, here's my new special rock!
me: Uh, ok. Let's... put it here by the door.
L: No, inside!
me: Inside?
L: Yeah. I found it outside!!
me: It's wet. And rough.
L: I'll put it on the table.
me: No, right here by the door. Inside on the mat.
L: It's my new special rock!
K: No it isn't.
L: Yes it is! It was by the gate!! It's like my anno rock I found at the beach.
me (thinking): Hmm.. it does look a lot like that other rock she made me carry up!
K: It's your old rock.
L (looking at her sister): What?!!
K (with the certainty of an older sister): It's your old rock. 
L: Why was it outside?
K: Maybe Mommy put it there?
L (looking in my direction): Daddy!?
me (shrugging): Into the car. We're running late!
L (a glance down at the rock, now sitting in a puddle on the living room floor): It's the van!
K: She's right Daddy. It's the van. Mommy took the car.
me (shoving them out the door): Into the van!!

note: I confirmed later in the day that yes, it was the self-same rock. M was not please that it was rediscovered.

Monday, December 3, 2012

... she's my, she's my little baby...

well, well...


the divine miss L
(saturday, woodland park zoo)

but first, to set the stage:

not at sea

No, we're not on a ferry crossing the North Sea. Though that's pretty much how it looked outside yesterday, which, in Miss L's phraseology, would be "before this day." This day being her birthday.

And the weather is fairly fitting, given the weather 5 years ago. 

That would be the night it rained so hard for so long that our basement flooded the first time, the night M, scheduled for induction at 6.30a the next morning, said to me "it's not going to make any difference, we can't keep the water out, let's go to bed" so I went to bed and a good, solid sleep, only to wake up the next morning and find that she'd been up all night bailing water. 

But the weather isn't really today's topic. Today's topic is, Hello 5!

sleeping like a baby

HIPY PAPY BTHUTHDTH THUTHDA BTHUTHDY*, Miss L. 
Many happy returns on the day!

And just for historical purposes:



====================
*
Pooh looked on admiringly.
"I'm just saying 'A Happy Birthday,'" said Owl carelessly.
"It's a nice long one," said Pooh, very much impressed by it.
"Well, actually, of course, I'm saying 'A Very Happy Birthday with love from Pooh.' Naturally it takes a good deal of pencil to say a long thing like that."
"Oh, I see," said Pooh.

Sunday, December 2, 2012

sister sunday, readers edition

it's another twisted sister sunday...

two heads are better than one

This Thursday morning I stayed home sick and told M I'd take the girls into school. When I came downstairs after taking a shower, this is what I walked into. They'd settled down together to read. I grabbed my camera....


especially when it comes to a good book

I drove them to school, dropped them off, and came home to crawl back into bed. That's the worst thing about staying home sick - you don't feel like doing all the things you can do when you stay home.

Friday, November 30, 2012

dear Amnesty International.... (rant)

Note: I debated posting this for some time, but finally decided to go ahead. You may want skip it and come back in a week or two. Be warned that it's a rant I felt I needed to get off my chest. It's not likely to be of much interest to anyone else. It's neither funny nor insightful. I promise my next post will be more in line with the usual stuff I write (which, now that I think about it, may not be funny or insightful either, but that's a different issue).

========================================================================

Dear AI:

I've got a suggestion I'd like to pass along: As a general rule, it's a bad approach to make your donors, especially your regular donors, feel like c@#%.

Disclaimer - I've been sick, so am not feeling my best. Also, I was pretty busy when you called. And we don't have caller ID on our land line.

And just to be clear, my complaint isn't really with the man who called. He was was reasonably pleasant (though rather insistent).

When you called last night I answered because I thought it might be my wife and if it had been, I could have asked her about preparations for dinner. It wasn't. It was a man calling from AI.

He started by introducing himself and then launched into what has become the standard for organizations calling to ask for money: "First of all, I'd like to thank you for all your support…." which is a red flag telling me that I'm about to be asked for more support. It might not touch a hot button if, perhaps, you occasionally called simply to say "thank you" without asking for anything more, not that I need or even want such a call, but when you regularly link any "thank you" with a new request, I'm starting to feel a bit used.

But I knew he was only doing his job, and because I appreciate the work you do and support your efforts (which is why we make a monthly donation), I let him go through his spiel  And yeah, I know there is a world-wide problem with treatment of women. I abhor the fact that anyone, anywhere, would use rape as a tool of warfare. It makes me sick to think that young girls are kidnapped and used as sex slaves, and that others are married off at ages not too far from those of my two daughters (both of whom are upstairs and wanting my attention ss I listen to your caller) so this issue does touch me. Once he's done explaining what you want to do if you had the funds, he makes his pitch for an additional donation of $100.

And I've been expecting it and I tell him that 1) we never (I mean never) commit to any money over the phone, and 2) we're tapped out at the moment.

And he tells me he understands, which is the indicator that he's going to thank me and hang up.

Note: In this less-than-perfect world, where callers of organizations I support cannot know that I'm sick, busy and cranky, this is where things ought to have stopped.

But he doesn't and they don't.

Instead he launches into a second routine about working within the US on the same issue, and asks if I'd make a donation of $50. Which is an indicator that either he wasn't really listening to me, or that he's got a script he is required to run through.

So at this point, I've already spent more time on the phone than I would like, and it appears that he needs to ask for the smaller amount if the larger one isn't going to fly. Which means, even if he really had heard me say that I wasn't going to commit to an amount over the phone (and I'm not sure he did), he goes ahead and asks me a second time for money.

And here's the thing. I really and truly do support the work AI does, and I really and truly believe there are some horrible things happening in the world related to treatment of women. I'm helping to raise two young women that I hope grow up in a world where rape and sex slavery and child marriage are fading, declining events. But I am needed upstairs, and I need to get started on dinner, and to be honest, my head aches like it has all day and I really need to blow my nose again.

So I tell the man again that I don't commit to any money over the phone, and this time I tell him that I NEVER commit to money over the phone.

And he starts again to tell me that he undertands, but he also starts to launch into something else about sending the card and needing to …. But I interrupt him to say "Never" again and that if he wants to send the card he can and we'll look at it and decide. And he says that if we're not going to send any money, they don't need to send the card. And I'm really ready now to be off the phone because I'm feeling bad for being rude to someone who I know is just doing his job, and worse, being rude to someone who is doing his job for an organization I support.

After fending off his inquiry about whether I want to be part of the text alert system (I'm already subscribed to email alerts and to be honest, I've had enough of AI for the evening, so he could have asked if I'd like a free AI Hat and I would have said no), I hang up while he's either saying his thanks again or starting to pitch something else, and I feel awful.

Which is the point of my suggestion to you. It strikes me as bad business to make your donors feel awful.

Yeah, I know you're doing good work, and as I've already said a couple of times, I support that work. But if doing so means I'm going to feel sh@%#y, I may decide it's not worth it and shift the money I send to you each month to one of the other rights organizations I support. The ACLU for example.

Hindsight: I wish I'd asked him to put me on their "no call" list, since I already donate monthly, and they're not  in the business of calling to simply say "thank you" (and honestly, I don't want any organization I support to spend any of their resources doing that sort of thing!).

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

definitions: toebottoms / sobbing wet

It's another double-definition Tuesday, and today we get two from the Divine Miss L.



toebottoms (toe bottoms?) - noun, the opposite of stretching to see something you're too small to see without stretching. Compare to tiptoe.

usage: 
(I'm combing my hair after a shower, rushing to get out the door in time to catch the last watertaxi of the morning. L is brushing her teeth beside me.)
L (mouth full of toothpaste): Daddy!
me: Hmm? Spit that out before you talk. You're getting it all over.
L (spitting into the sink, sort of): Daddy! Look! I'm standing on my toebottoms!!
me (wiping up toothpaste): Huh. Yeah, you are! You're tall enough now to not need that stool.
L (looking proud): I know!
M (from out in the bedroom): Maybe we can get rid of that now.
L (looking shocked): No!
M: No?
L (shaking her head): Uh uh.
me (glancing at my watch and realizing that I may not make the boat): Why not?
L (shrug): Because, we need it.
M: Maybe we can take it to the downstairs bathroom?
L: Yeah.



sobbing wet: adjective, describing something that dripping with moisture.

usage:
(the family is staring out at the dreary PNW fall weather)
b: I want to go somewhere. I want to do something!
me: It's soaking out there.
K: Yeah, let's stay here.
M: That's our homebody.
L: I want to DO something!
K (a look in our direction): Well, it's wet outside!
me: Yes, it is definitely wet.
L: It's sobbing wet!!
me (looking at M): Uh, yeah, it is in fact. Sobbing Wet.

note: Miss L regularly shows up "sobbing wet" after a good cry over, oh, something like a failure to draw a Santa exactly the way she would like, a critical analysis often contributed to by her older sister who regularly advises her that she can't draw good [fill in the blank]s.