>waiting, waiting, waiting

>We looked at cell phones for Amigo at the AT&T store. The new Jitterbug would be suitable, but expensive. we found a couple that would work and then talked to the folks at the store about adding him to our family plan. Then husband went on to other topics, such as the new television and phone (landline) services. I didn’t need to hear this and I was tired of waiting, so I went next door in the mall to (fanfare) Famous Footwear!! I tried on five pair, bought two, and then headed back to the store where Husband was still looking at the details of the new television service. He looked at my bag and realized he was taking too long. Heck, the shoes were on clearance!

The next day we found ourselves heading along the highway to Milwaukee for Amigo’s appointment with the tummy doctor (the GI specialist). Two hours on the road and I admit it, I was dozing in the passenger seat. Traffic was smooth, so we actually arrived early.

The waiting room would rate low on my quality scale. No toys, a few children’s books, a TV set to public television (with an elderly exercise program on when we came in), aquarium in one corner with a few fish. No adult reading material whatsoever: no books, no magazines, not even a stack of health-related handouts. Cell phones are a no-no in this major medical building, so texting La Petite was out.

We coped. Amigo put on his headphones and listened to radio. I sent the restless Husband in search of a newspaper. While he was gone, I made lists.

To-do List #1: must-do priorities for moving into new classroom
To-do List #2: phone calls and appts. to make
To-do List #3: Power Point plan for Open House
To-Do List #4: Power Point plan for students, first day of school

At about that point, Husband handed over a section of the newspaper, and the paper kept us occupied until Amigo’s appointment.

Next time I’ll bring a book. Actually, the next appointment is in October, so I’ll probably have stacks of papers to correct and lessons to plan. Next time, I’ll bring my schoolbag.

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>Bargains! Bargains galore!

>Now that I’ve got your attention — Best Bargain Find Ever? Okay, PBN, I’m a bargain shopper, a coupon clipper, and a comparison shopper, too. Singling out one bargain as the Best Ever is nearly impossible. Here are a few examples:

*the inexpensive “calendar mug” form the corner gas station: free coffee on the dates in red
*Amigo’s winter coat from the consignment store: a brand name jacket for $20
*swag! Husband picked up a mini jump drive that is the perfect size for my school files.
*books for my classroom from Savers’ thrift store: great titles, great price, and I had a newspaper coupon for $5 any purchase greater than $5. Fabulous!
*my new purse from the outlet mall, brand name, half price, will last forever!
*messenger bag for school – already marked down, then entire luggage dept. on 50% the day I bought it
*anything purchased at Steve and Barry’s for $8.98!

Planning ahead and being aware is the first step in finding great bargains. Last December I made my list, checked it twice, grabbed my Very Important Customer discount card, and headed out to Kohl’s to shop. I knew what I was looking for, so I didn’t overspend. It was a big sale day with early bird specials, so I shopped in the morning. After these specials, I used my Kohl’s charge and the additional 15% discount coupon. End result: they practically paid me to shop. I watched the numbers on the register go down, down, down, until I couldn’t believe how little I paid for the cart full of presents!

Bargain shopping? I’m there, whether it’s online or brick and mortar.

Parent Bloggers Network is doing their part to help readers watch their wallets during this economic downturn by co-sponsoring this blog blast with Couponers.com.

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>Crock Pot Leftover Chili

>I discovered A Year of Crockpotting (is that really a word? It is now) and I’ve checked her out every day since. I’ve copied a few recipes to keep in my file, and I’ve left a few comments. I’m not as dedicated as Stephanie, who is using her crockpot every day for a full year. I use mine about once a week during the school year, a little less often in the summer when I’m home to cook.

She had me at the title for this one: Clean Out the Pantry Crockpot Chili. My chili has a basic formula, but if I’m honest I’ll admit it’s never the same twice. Leftover taco meat? Meatsauce from spaghetti? Chunky spaghetti sauce with veggies from the garden? All of the above works in a crock pot full of chili. Last time I made chili in my crock pot, it turned out something like this.

Clean out the Fridge Crock Pot Chili by Daisy

Add to crock pot in this order:
1 can chili beans
1 can dark red kidney beans
1 can diced tomatoes
leftover sloppy joe meat
leftover meatballs (chopped beyond recognition)
a few leftover vegetables
1-2 teaspoons chili powder
1 green onion, diced
2 spinach leaves, diced (I’m not opposed to adding green veggies when the kiddos don’t know it)
leftover spaghetti sauce

Turn pot on low for 4-6 hours. About 1 1/2 hour before serving, add leftover spaghetti or egg noodles. Turn pot to high.

Serve with grated cheese (optional).

Enjoy!

(Hey, family? My crockpot has seen better days. When you’re out shopping for a rain barrel, you could scout for a replacement.)

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>Dangerous Days, indeed.

>Daniel has no last name. He has no family, either; he creates his own family and friends with his highly developed magical imagination. He has amazing powers, outrageous intelligence, and a mission to avenge his parents’ violent deaths.

It’s too bad all of this doesn’t lead to a better story.

Daniel X is disappointing. James Patterson is a well-known author for adults, a creator of best-selling novels, a regular on Top Ten Lists. What happened here? The dramatic opening sets up the motivation and Daniel’s uniqueness, but after that – well, not much. The pacing lacks flow, connections are choppy, the villian was predictable, and frankly, I found it dull.

That’s ironic because Patterson’s marketing (and oh, he is all about marketing) is based on boys supposedly having very little interest in reading because they find books boring and “can’t get into the stories.”

Patterson needs to meet some of the boys I’ve met while teaching fourth through sixth grade. He needs to meet the boy who checked out Eragon from the library – for me! “Mrs. Teacher, you need to read this now because the sequel is coming out soon and it’s awesome.” How about the boy who kept hiding books in his lap so he could keep reading through math class? No, his subterfuge didn’t work. He still had to learn long division, but I let him read as soon as his homework was done. Then there was the boy who was so wrapped up in Robinson Crusoe that he forgot to go to science class. Tell me he wasn’t into the story, and I’ll pop a quiz on you so fast your head will spin. Would you like to hear about the boys who eagerly read the later books in Laura Ingalls Wilder’s collection? They wanted to find out more about Almanzo from Farmer Boy and learn whether his older brother Royal moved west with him.

Patterson suggests something teachers and librarians already know: give them books they’ll love.

I suggest: Give them Gary Paulsen. Christopher Paul Curtis. Jerry Spinelli. Betsy Byars. Cornelia Funke. Gordon Korman. Robert Louis Stevenson. C. S. Lewis. Matt Christopher’s sports collections, including fiction and biographies. And continue to recommend J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books. Boys and girls alike lose themselves in the complex and fascinating world of the boy wizard.

The Dangerous Days of Daniel X may attract a few readers who like slimey aliens and big guns and a weak, unstructured story. I don’t plan to recommend it.


I received a free copy of this book in order to review it for MotherTalk. I plan to donate it to the middle school library. Despite my dislike for the story, I do not believe in censorship. Some kids will like it; it’ll be on the shelf for them.

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>Take me out to the ball game!

>Baseball! The weather was nice, it was Saturday night, so we decided to take in a minor league baseball game.

So did a few thousand other fans. I couldn’t get tickets in the “good seats” that we like best. I couldn’t get three, so I tried two, and the web site still told me “No, try fewer tickets or another section.” I gave in and bought bleacher seats on the third base side toward the outfield. Amigo was okay with that, as it meant there would be a good crowd.
He wasn’t kidding; the park was packed, and it was great. Watching people watching baseball is a lot of fun, too.
In front of us, the young mom made friends with Amigo as he sang along with each and every song on the PA system. She called him “Mr. Jukebox.” We knew that; he has an amazing memory. If only he’d use it to do better in school…but I digress.
Off to the right and a few rows ahead we noticed a family that must have been at their first game ever. Everything was new and exciting. The husband excitedly filled the memory card on his camera with game shots, pictures of the young boy behind him stuffing his face with a soft pretzel dipped in cheese, and Fang, the mascot, dancing on top of the dugout. They joined in doing the wave, smiled at the crowd singing “Take me out to the ballgame,” and in general, seemed to enjoy immersing themselves in this piece of Americana.
To our left was a large group of teenagers talking, laughing, and cheering loudly, seemingly in constant motion. The young man next to me kept apologizing for bumping into me, and made me laugh as he and his friends pushed the rest of the teens in his row into the smallest space possible. When I teased him about avoiding me because I’m a teacher, a younger one (his brother, perhaps?) begged me to give out detentions! This crew was most fun when the PA system played a song that none of the adults knew, but caused every teen in the park (including Amigo) to jump up and dance. Cha-cha, slide, jump, and what else? If anyone at the game was grumpy, they couldn’t be after that. Contagious energy, near-spontaneous fun!
A foul ball sped into the crowd behind us hitting a spectator’s hand so hard she couldn’t hold it, causing at least one nearby fan to spill his beer. No serious injuries, fortunately, and the stadium staff was on the scene immediately.
Husband and I shared a funnel cake (ah, how romantic), and fought off the cool wind by sitting close together. It was a cool, cool night for August!

After a week that included a trek to a Milwaukee clinic, too much time spent gathering lab samples, an endodontist appointment, the Favre saga, and more, this was the perfect ending to a stressful week.

Take me out to the ball game anytime!

By the way, the home team won, 2-1, in the eleventh inning.

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>Leftovers again?!

>It was a good day for cooking from scratch. I harvested and cleaned ingredients from the garden. Prepared a balanced meal that would taste great. Set the table, even made a fresh green salad.

No one came home.

Amigo was at camp, so he was excused. La Petite had to work, and her job hours are unpredictable. Husband usually gets home within a predictable range of time. I thought I’d wait until one or both of them turned up before I began actually cooking.

5:00 – Husband called, said he had to run but wanted to tell me he didn’t know when he’d be home because he had to go out with a crew to cover breaking news.
5:30 – I started cooking anyway. Maybe La Petite would arrive and be hungry. Who am I kidding – she’s always hungry!
5:40 – I opened a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, Pomegranate flavor.
5:45 – Meatballs finished. Set aside.
5:50 – Pasta looked done, started sauce.
6:00 – Ate a delicious dinner alone, in front of Jeopardy.
6:30 – La Petite came home, hot and sweaty from working, and (thankfully) hungry.
6:35 – Husband called to say, “Elvis has left the building!” But he wasn’t hungry; they’d been working at a venue with a free taco bar, and he’d grazed quite a bit.
6:40 – Put the rest of the food away in the refrigerator. Cleared dishes, ran dishwasher.

Everyone had an alibi – not just an excuse, but a real reason not to be home. I’m glad I’m not dependent on this kind of family approval to keep on cooking. It could be rather depressing. As it is, I felt somewhat put out that I’d taken the time to plan and cook a decent meal for no one. When school starts and I’m cooking simple thirty minute meals again, they’d better not complain.

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>Check the Poo

>How much to say without putting up a totally disgusting post? There’s a reason for the acronym TMI; Too Much Information can be just that.

Amigo’s digestive system gave hints already in January that it was going to be troublesome. We made excuses and brushed it off, and he seemed to be fine. Then came flu season.
After a bout with the basic upper respiratory flu followed by a stomach ailment, he just couldn’t seem to recover. The pediatrician greeted him one day with a joke about “frequent flyer miles” because he’d been in so often. That was also the point at which she decided he needed to make an appointment with a specialist at Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin in Milwaukee.
Four months later, we got there. Since it takes that long to get on the schedule, we hoped that maybe Amigo would get better in the meantime or develop symptoms that would make the whole thing obvious.
No such luck. He needs to submit at least four more lab samples (hence the post title stolen from Scrubs, the Musical) and then get a pair of procedures done under general anesthesia.
At the moment, I’m feeling as much stress as the kid is. I’ll end up gathering the samples, making sure they get to the right lab at the right time, and scheduling the procedures at Children’s (two hours from home by car on a good day, by the way) to occur some time during early October. Add to that the “prep” day before he goes and a potential recovery day after… but October? For a teacher, that’s a killer. And since it’s football season, Husband doesn’t have much flexibility, either. His work schedule is printed in green and gold at this time of year.

We’ll make it through. For Amigo’s sake, I hope we find some answers – even if the answers are in the poo.

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>Brett, Brett, Brett.

>

An Open Letter to My Favorite Quarterback of all Time

Dear Brett:

Retirement is tough for anyone. For you, one who has given his life, his body, his physical and his mental health to his career, it’s nearly impossible. You’ve done the impossible before, and you can do it again.
Remember when you drove your car around a curve too quickly, bordering on (dare we say it) reckless? You found out that speed limits really respect the laws of nature. Your injuries nearly killed you, but you recovered. You not only played college football again, you played well. Very well.
Your time with the Atlanta Falcons, the team that drafted you into the NFL, wasn’t exactly stellar. In fact, black hole might be a better description. But Ron Wolf took a look at your talent and made a trade that changed history for you and for all of Wisconsin, the state that calls the Green Bay Packers their own.
Substance abuse. Addiction. Rehab.
Playoff success. Super Bowl ring. MVP honors.
Changes in coaching. Changes in personnel, receivers, centers, offensive line, back-ups.
Personal losses. Deaths of close friends and family.
Personal trauma. Your wife’s cancer.
Through it all, fatherhood. Raising two daughters in the shadow of Lambeau Field, with a famous father, and attempting to keep their lives “normal.”

Brett, football has been the center of your life all of your life. High school revolved around football. College revolved around football. After that? Seventeen years of records breaking, numbers falling like dominoes. When you announced your retirement, you must have wondered how you’d fill the hole left empty without the NFL, without the Green Bay Packers. Where will you go each day with no team meetings? No workouts? No training camp? How will you fill your time, your thoughts, focus your energy?

Who are you now?

Brett, you’ve suffered in public so many times. Now you’re suffering again, but this time it’s different. We Packer fans are watching you panic. We’re watching you fall apart, grasping for a cloud that is rapidly evaporating, fading out of reach.

Brett, it’s not about you any more, and that’s central to the panic. Your team, the fearless green and gold, is moving on without you, and you just don’t know what to do.

Please, Brett, get help. Get professional counseling. You have value, with or without a football in your powerful hands. As I mentioned above, you’ve already done the impossible; you can do it again. But you don’t have to do it alone. Retirement is tough for anyone, and much, much tougher on you. Get some help, and get it now. You can retire, and you can retire with class.
Sincerely,
Daisy
A concerned and caring fan

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>Blog the Recession in August!

>

Contrary to a certain (former) McCain staffer, the U.S.A is not a nation of whiners. The economy is struggling, and we (the average citizens) are struggling. And those who are in tougher than average shape financially? They’re suffering. Truly suffering.

Kristin at Motherhood Uncensored has a small but significant suggestion. She knows that most of us can do very little about the economic state of the union at the moment, but she recognizes that sometimes a little goes a long way. Here’s her suggestion:

“…Blog the Recession Month:
The premise is simple. If you read blogs, then for the month of August, make the “pledge” to click through from your feed reader. No obligation to leave a hilarious comment or send a long stalkerish email (although both, within reason, are always lovely). Just click through to the blog (not on ads unless you are so led) and if you’re feeling generous, click around to their older posts.
Just those extra page views can make a big difference for bloggers who could really use the help….”

If you are a blogger and you want to jump on the Blog the Recession Bandwagon, go to Kristin’s blog, grab a button, and then send her an email with the permalink for your post. She assures us that she’s a good driver, and the bandwagon will have a good time. I want to know: will she stop for coffee?

Never mind. I’ll bring my own! Now I just need to go look for my travel mug…

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