Sink Your Teeth Into It

Princess daughter lost her third tooth last weekend. At this rate, she'll have all her permanent teeth by first grade! She was eating corn on the cob and her cousin remarked how some people's teeth look like corn because they're yellow. I noticed Princess daughter feeling around in her mouth with her tongue. She suddenly exclaimed "I've lost my tooth!" Sure enough, evidence of the tooth-loosening efforts showed clearly on the corncob and the tooth was laying on her plate.

The tooth fairy panicked a little as she realized it was Saturday night and was not prepared for this event (it usually happens on major holidays like Christmas - the first one - and Valentine's - the second one). So she ramsacked the emergency gift closet with hubby. Hubby tooth fairy suggested the Hello Kitty jewelry set (thank you $1 Spot at Target). Problem solved. (I hope Princess doesn't read this - all innocence will be lost.) She LOVED the jewelry and even wore it to church the next day. (We don't do $ in our family yet as there is no understanding or appreciation of it - the first tooth was worth an IHOP giftcard, which emitted from Princess daughter a very sad face and lament, "All I got was this cwedit card." (Hubby's blog recounts this story, as well.)



I also had tooth excitement this week as I got my first filling since my teens (I think they used playdough or clay back then.) Never a fun experience, but a good life lesson for Princess daughter.

Supply This!

School supply lists are funny things. While some items have obvious uses – scissors for killing the booger-eating kid next to you, markers for drawing puppets on your knuckles – the purpose of other items is more ambiguous.

Take my Princess daughter's list for kindergarten. Unless they’re making a ton of yarn scarecrows or a Wendy’s wig, I’m not sure why they need a whole skein of red or light brown yarn. (And skein – that’s a word you use everyday.)

Has obsession with cleanliness overtaken the school supply list? It used to be fun stuff like compasses and erasers and highlighters, now it’s hand sanitizer and Clorox wipes. Yippee kids – have fun learning how to eliminate the world of germs!

And I can’t figure out why I need to send boxes of zipper plastic bags. It’s not looking good – it has all the signs of “We’re making tons of stuff that will need to be contained in plastic bags and it’s all coming home to you, parents.”

ToysRUs had Crayola writing implements buy-one-get-two-free so I justified spending the gas money to save money on additional boxes of all things Crayola. Maybe not something Suze Orman or Mad Money guy Jim Cramer would recommend, but it was fun.

My Other Addiction

My other addiction (what’s with this girl?) is swimming. I’ve always loved propelling myself through the water, ever since I was a little girl. I don’t look nearly as cute in a swimsuit now, but many of my favorite memories growing up involve being in the water.

One of the greatest blessings of our move last year was to a subdivision where we are three houses from the pool. We are there every day, sometimes twice a day. I love to go in the morning on days when the Princess daughter is at summer camp, and before I head to work. No one is there, it’s quiet, and I do my laps. They will never set or break an Olympic record, but I love that feeling of using my muscles to go back and forth across the pool for 30 minutes. I like to think it does a body good.

My little Princess is quite the swimmer. I often wonder if that activity will be part of her future. Her lung capacity is amazing and she’s incredibly strong. Hubby provides us endless amounts of laughter at the pool. How can one person thrash and kick as much as he does, and go nowhere?

We are all so sad when the sun sets earlier, the mornings and evenings get a little chillier, and the sign on the pool fence says “Closed.” We know it will be many months before we find ourselves gliding through that water again.

“My name is Susan and I am an Office-aholic”

Hubby says I have an addiction. It’s started to show. Other people are seeing the effects. And it has taken over my life (or at least my evenings after a certain Princess goes to bed).

Since the end of June, I have watched every episode of all four seasons of the American version of “The Office” at least once, some twice. I spent several beads and conch shells renting Seasons 2 and 3, only to find out that disc 4 of Season 3 was nowhere to be found in the metropolitan area (sorry to add to the shrinking ozone by driving allover to find it, but I told you, I have an addiction). Apparently, there are others who share the same addiction but feed theirs through unethical means of ownership like keeping videos until they’re charged for them. (Sure, Red Box is great, but where is “The Office” in that little crimson kiosk?)

I went fairly haywire when I discovered “Casino Night” had disappeared from the DVRed episodes I was beginning to collect. What – we erase “Casino Night” and keep “Shrek the Halls” Christmas special?

I have already planned a watch party for the one-hour Season 5 premiere of “The Office” on September 25. I’ve invited some mildly addicted friends and am anticipating the laughs… Greg Daniels, don’t let me down. (Office Trivia game)

Three Weeks and Counting

We’re three weeks from Princess daughter's first day of kindergarten. Heard this song in “Mamma Mia” the other night; could completely relate. The lyrics to the ABBA song "Slipping Through My Fingers" follow:

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I’m losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I’m glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she’s gone there’s that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can’t deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well, some of that we did but most we didn’t
And why I just don’t know
Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers...

Slipping through my fingers all the time
Schoolbag in hand she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile...

Age is in the Eye of the Beholder

I went to see the new movie “Mamma Mia” the other day. Yes, there is a high cheese factor, and the singing is not that great, but Pierce Brosnan takes his shirt off. (Those over 40 are now imagining something they shouldn’t; those under 40 are grossing out.) I’m in the former group, which is why I say “I’m old.” While a much younger woman might be drooling over the 20-year-old hottie about to marry the young starlet of the movie, I barely noticed him. I found myself noticing the three men who were potential candidates for her daddy dearest. Strike one for oldness reality.

The neighbors that asked me to go – which I greatly appreciated, gave me a chance to get to know these women – have grown children. I’m guessing they’re in their late 40s or possible early 50s. And they saw me as one of their peers. Strike two for oldness reality.

I knew all the songs – remembered most of them from the first time they came out. Strike three!

Crazy cuzins

The Princess daughter couldn’t sleep last night. We haven’t experienced this level of anticipation excitement since the jolly old elf made his appearance last winter. Cousins are coming today.

There are all kinds of plans – real or imagined – for these cousins. Of course, they will only be here 48 hours, but surely you can attend a professional baseball game, go swimming three or four times at several different pools, do every craft in the craftbook, buy every item in the Webkinz store, watch every show on Noggin, and play in the backyard in that amount of time. That’s, of course, if you don’t sleep. Which, apparently, is the anticipated outlook.

I remember waiting on the curb ALL day for my cousins to drive up. How long can it take to drive from Tennessee to New Jersey, anyway? Two of my fondest memories are the two summers I spent with cousins. And the antics of my curly red-headed cousin has provided hours of hilarious stories at family get-togethers over the past 30 years.

It reminds me of a cousin who has shared the experience of a miracle child; who makes me laugh; who inspires me with reminders of God’s character and promises; whom I never have enough time with when we visit the ivy house.

"Sometimes I wish we could go back to our childhood days. Yet here we are, both of us grown, with busy lives and out on our own. Things change, but you'll always be my cousin, my friend, and loved by me."