The Problem with Problem Solving

Today in the midst of a problem-solving discussion, I realized that I have very . . . selective . . . taste in problem solving. There are some problems that draw me in like jigsaw puzzles or mysteries and seem quite interesting to work on. And then there are other problems like the ones under discussion in the aforementioned discussion. Those sorts of problems I prefer not to deal with; problems that I already know how to solve, but that require some sort of action on my part to actually become solved. Even discussing such problems is a problem, since it usually just makes me feel guilty about not being motivated enough to have solved the problem already. My overall thought is essentially, "If I cared enough to talk (or even think) about the problem, it would probably be solved by now; new topic, please!"

Guess it wouldn't hurt to work on some of those "known solution" problems. Just need to remember that solving such problems really is a good thing and not just a condemning admission that there was a problem in the first place.

Fantasy meets reality or Why I mostly wear "Mom" shoes

This morning our friend and neighbor from across the street called to ask if Amanda could go to the local Asian festival with her and her daughter (who is Amanda's age). Amanda has a great time, and I finally found an excuse to create a post related to the shoes pictured above . . .

Amanda and I went with our friends to the Asian festival two years ago. I was in a rather interesting shopping/clothing phase at that point and had decided that the shoes above needed to be in my wardrobe. I wore them to the festival that day along with some capris that I also acquired that summer. I felt rather pleased with my cuteness as I headed out the door. And then the walking set in . . .

I made it through the festival, but I was VERY glad to wear other shoes again when I got home. There was a bit of uneven terrain going into and out of the festival that really put the stability of my cute shoes into question. I was between babies (i.e. one born without another on the way yet) when I bought the shoes, but once the next baby got under construction, wearing them was not an option, regardless of terrain. The next summer came, but I didn't wear the shoes much. Or at all.

Fall came, and I had a chance to do a little extra cleaning. I actually got two pairs of heels the summer I got my brown shoes. One was a shiny black patent set in a unique design that actually made them surprisingly functional and wearable for having 3+ inch heels. I'd gotten a lot of use out of them and so they had definitely earned the right to stay. The brown shoes, though . . . I decided to give them one last chance: if I could wear them for an hour while doing my cleaning, they could stay. I lasted about 5 minutes with them. And so, I post their picture in memory:

Start all over again . . .

Well, it happened: I missed a day on the daily blog (hence the blog subtitle "or something like that"). And, yes, I am still alive to tell about it. For what it's worth, yesterday was another typical day in the neighborhood, with the slight twist of seeing my neighbor post-surgery for the first time (her surgery, that is, not mine). I hereby extend a belated apology to my dad for whining so much about the braces I had way back when; they are nothing compared to the gear one gets when recovering from jaw surgery.

The preschool commute is no longer part of our day, but oddly enough, I miss it. Not the whole going to preschool thing, but rather just having a time when I could plan on doing errands because I'd have to be out anyway. My choices are now either to do the errands with four kids anyway or to somehow be productive enough to get out the door with just three on a Saturday morning before everything that's not Wal-mart or the grocery store closes. Amazing how intimidating errands can seem when one is accompanied by so many passengers.

The Bubble Bucket Saga

Kids love bubbles, but bubbles can be messy. But wait! Someone invented the no-spill bubble bucket, and it actually does work pretty well. So, I went ahead and got one, to the delight of the kids. Our new daily ritual goes like this:

My two-year-old brings me the bucket and asks for more bubbles. I drain out the dregs from the previous day and wash and dry the bucket before filling it again. I then return the bucket to my happy (for now) two-year-old. The bucket has three bubble wands with it, which logically should make for a happy crew all around; there's just that little bit about them fighting over who gets to hold the bucket. After about an hour or so of semi-contented bubble time, one of the two-year-olds brings the bucket back for more juice. Alas, though, the bucket is still quite full; the problem is that they have foamed up the bubble juice by overly aggressive wand dipping to the point that the bubbles won't come anymore until the foam dissipates. Unfortunately, they haven't figured this out yet, and so there is much rage when I refuse to refill the bucket.

The two-year-old rage ultimately pays off, though, for the five-year-old and the one-year-old. Big sister finds the bucket again later when the juice has de-foamed and blows bubbles to amuse the others. When she's tired of it, little brother finds it and gets his turn, since it has lost its novelty for the others by then. All in all, not a bad system. It starts all over again in the morning, with the bucket as intriguing as ever to the two-year-olds. The rage phase is all right in the end, for the fun that comes from watching the baby enjoy the bucket in the afternoon. Hooray for bubbles!

The joy of cameras

The kids and I found ourselves stuck away from home with nothing to do recently. But . . . I had the camera with me. Amazing how amused the kids were as they took turns taking pictures of whatever was around. It was also rather amusing to see the results of the photo shoot. Thank goodness for digital cameras.

Random bits and pieces

Our air conditioner came on today for the first time this year; I must admit I'm hoping for another cool spell to counteract this development. Either that or a bigger A/C budget . . .

My laptop is in the shop for who knows how long. No telling how long it will be gone or how many files will be left on it by the time it gets back, but at least it was still under warranty, and at least my old faithful Mac still works. :)

I had a nice nap today. Thanks for the nap, honey!

Mind over matter?

Our basement is, well, a disaster. It's been through a two-year-old who likes dumping things, especially potato flakes and pasta, and a whole host of other destroyers. It screams to be cleaned, but it is exceedingly draining to be anywhere close enough to even attempt it. At this point, it would be very tempting to donate all of our stuff to charity just to be rid of it, except that we'd still have to get the pasta and potato flakes off of it all before doing so, which means cleaning up anyway. Joy.

On a somewhat brighter note, the same two-year-old has promoted a cleaner kitchen floor by forcing a mop job after coating the floor in cracked eggs and bubble juice. I love my electric mop; it makes times like these much more bearable. Too bad it doesn't pick up pasta.

The Longest Year Ever (at least I hope so)

Today was Amanda's last day of preschool. Ever. She loved the social experience, but her commute-weary mom and her academically-minded dad were rather anxious for her to be able to move on, particularly since she was there for three years; three years of school that didn't "count."

I myself was in academic limbo for quite some time in the MA process, from when I got done with the core classes back in 2005 to when my thesis finally made it to the library last month. Like Amanda, I can finally move on.

We're not the only ones, though; for our main student, this is the third time it's been "the same year." Basically all of Amanda's three years of preschool are equal to this other incredibly long academic year. Since we thought Amanda would only be in preschool for a year, it makes for an interesting coincidence.

But now she's done, and I'm done; here's hoping for one more successful finish so that we can finally all get done with this longest year ever and move forward.

Time to move to Australia

There is a place where fantasy becomes reality, where ninjas save people from getting mugged and Spider-Man stops actual attempted robberies. Who wouldn't want to live somewhere as cool as that?

In the land of the seven Shreks

As I type, there are seven Shrek dolls in our house. Yes, seven. They are identical (except that Amanda's has some purple nail polish on the bottom of its feet), and they all talk. I think this is a record for us.

(Note to our friends who brought the Happy Meals which had the Shreks: don't worry, we'll make sure to get your three Shreks back to you; thanks again for coming to play!)

Musings on Shoes and Chocolate

The box of chocolate I got myself around Mother's Day had a saying on it along the lines that "Chocolate is like shoes; the more you have, the happier you are." Some days I've been inclined to agree with that thought, but on further reflection, perhaps it is not so simple as that. Yes, it's fun to have an abundance of chocolate or shoes, but how fun is it when the chocolate has permanently bonded with you or the shoes are scattered all over the place? Nevertheless, I'll be happy to accept gifts of shoes or chocolate, if anyone feels like gifting . . . :)

A good day for bunnies

It's another rainy day in our neighborhood. We've had several over the past few weeks, and the local plant life really shows it if we have a shortage of rainy days. Today, however, there is plenty of greenery for our local lagamorphs. Plus, the constant drizzle and wet ground makes it so there are fewer pesky little primates running around to scare little critters. Bunny sightings are fun for me not only because I like rabbits (had several of them while growing up), but also because our neighborhood tends to have more squirrels than bunnies, and so rabbits are a bit of a novelty. The current rabbit run started last night when I watched a rabbit giving itself a bath in our back yard (much nicer to see bunnies out the window than raccoons, I must say). Through the same window today I've gotten to watch a very happy bunny munching and munching on the current abundance of vegetation. Yes, it's been a good day for bunnies.

Coming up blank

It's a daily blog, and so I am posting. However, any eloquence I thought I had seems to have vanished like part of Cinderella's entourage, only before midnight. I took some flower pictures today. We all went to church. We went on a nice walk this evening. Our friend and neighbor planted a day lily for us. Mayhap I'll have more flowers to photograph soon!

A Rose from My Garden

Today's post is not just a gardening post, but also a tribute to my husband, who got me this rose as a present. However, he did not just get the rose, he got me a rose bush, which means that I will hopefully have many more roses besides just this first rose from the bush. He likes to think long-term like that, finding gifts that will be good for more than just a moment. So, thank you for the roses, honey. They are beautiful, they smell wonderful, and they make me think happy thoughts about you when I see them. :)

Happy Birthday, Flamingo Greg

His name is Greg, and I know where he lives. Can't miss the big flock of plastic pink flamingos in his yard. I only know his name is Greg and it's his birthday because of the big sign in the yard. I remember when the flamingos came last year, too. (This year there was also a sign advertising lawn decorations for sale; the Flamingo family is going commercial!) So, happy birthday, whoever you are, Flamingo Greg.

A bit of thankfulness

Time for a bit of gratitude therapy . . . main topic: friends.

I am thankful for my friends who wore the earrings they got from my jewelry party to church.

I am thankful for my friend who had the jewelry party for me. It's been awhile since someone besides me had a party for me.

I am thankful for my friend who listens to my problems so patiently and checks in on me.

I am thankful for friends who share things with us that they no longer need but that we can definitely use. Such generosity makes such a difference in our poor starving student lives.

I am thankful for my friend who came over for a play date and even babysat for me.

I am thankful for my friend who makes it possible for my daughter to go to preschool.

I am thankful for my friend who saved my blueberry bush with a bit of fence.

I am thankful for our friends who invited us to go fly kites with them.

I am thankful for my friend who gave me a rose bush.

I am also thankful for my vacuum/mop combo friend that makes it easier to clean up after my two-year-old's big messes.

The Price of Education: A letter to the principal

Dear Mr. Administrator,
I am writing to give you an update on the cost of education today. No, I am not referring to recent requests from the staff for a raise. I write merely to inform you that the educational process is impossible without finding ways to occupy the observers in the classroom, who are currently unable to work with the curriculum. I have found that they do very well if they are allowed to wear make-up, play with flowers, and watch princess movies. Just letting you know.

Sincerely,
The Head Instructor

A random quote for today

And when I say random, I mean random; I still think it's a good quote, though.

"From failure, you learn! From success, not so much."
-Aunt Billie, Meet the Robinsons

Superheroes

Superheroes. My kids are rather obsessed with them these days, and they're not alone, either. As they look forward to superhero-themed episodes of their favorite shows and Batman or Superman cartoons from the library, their parents anxiously await the season finale of Smallville, wondering how Clark will defeat a whole bunch of flying Kryptonian clones while he himself still seems to be grounded.

My kids like to play superhero games, whether or not they are able to find capes to assist their play. Sometimes I find myself playing superhero, too, but not with super powers. No, my heroics are more along the line of finding socks for my husband, getting the kids ready for church on time, or heading out to the store for random needs at unearthly hours. Nevertheless, I cannot deny the rush I get when I accomplish some such seemingly impossible task.

Now, ideally, my superhero skills would be better used for genuine emergencies. However, my alter ego has not quite learned balance, and so it seems easier to rest up lying in wait for small catastrophes to occur rather than to work diligently to prevent them in the first place. It is a big set of skills to learn, but I believe (at least on some level) that they really would be useful skills to learn . . . those skills associated with keeping house rather than just rescuing house occasionally. It is, after all, mild-mannered folks who really keep the world together, no matter how fun superhero shows are to watch. One could even call them real superheroes.

Mother's Day 2010

Mother's Day was a fairly simple holiday way back when when all I had to do was do something nice for my own mother and wait for her to share her Mother's Day candy with me. Things got a little more complicated when I left home. Not only did it suddenly take more effort to do nice things for my mother, but I also was old enough to be receiving Mother's Day gifts at church on my own, although that was always a little odd, since I wasn't actually a mother.

Soon enough, though, I actually was a mother and reality set in: for moms, Mother's Day is guaranteed to be another day of mothering. And that's the only guarantee. I bought myself a box of chocolates in advance this year so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

However, this year Mother's Day actually turned out quite well. Our friends invited us to join them in their Mother's Day tradition of kite flying, and we all enjoyed it. Later, my husband and the kids baked a chocolate cake for me. Our two-year-old made some significant contributions to the cake while Dad and big sister were looking for more flour, which meant that the end result looked and smelled great and had absolutely no calories, since it was WAAAAY too salty to actually eat any of it. It looked nice beside ice cream, though, and it also made fun finger paint (like pudding paint, except cake-based). So, thank you all, it was a happy Mother's Day. :)

My life with fish

Today is a historic day: for the first time in many, many months, I bought more fish food because we actually fed all the of the previous can to the fish. Usually we have to buy more whenever one of the kids dumps it out. In honor of this historic event, today I shall blog about my life as a fish owner.

The first fish I remember having were when I was around 4 or 5 years old. We got bettas, usually male bettas, although we did have a female betta for awhile, too. We would have two at a time and keep them on opposite sides of a clear divider so that we could watch them flare at each other (and so that they wouldn't kill each other). The arrangement was fine so long as the fish on both sides were the same gender, but when we had our female betta opposite a male, we unwittingly allowed her mating hormones to fire (to the point of mate or die), and so the poor thing met her end, despite her best efforts to leap over the divider to find a mate. We named that pair Mr. Limpet and Lady Fish, after the Mr. Limpet movie; he was red, she was yellow, and except for the names they bore no resemblance to their Hollywood counterparts. The other bettas usually got named after original series Star Trek characters; guess who started out young on the Trekkie path . . .

We moved between kindergarten and first grade (and several other times, but that's another story), and our new location apparently didn't have the same selection of bettas, as we switched over to goldfish at that point. I remember we had a calico goldfish, along with some more traditional colors, and that one of the fish was named Sam. I also remember that one of them managed to get stuck and die on an artificial plant, and that none of them lasted more than a year, if that long.

We had several years of fishlessness after that, but around the end of junior high/beginning of high school, I started keeping fish again, this time boldy putting a female betta with some goldfish. The betta, Georgette, got along famously with the longest lived of the goldfish, Tri-spot, to the point that I was convinced she was sad when he passed away during a summer road trip. The same could not be said for her relationship with every fish, though, as could be testified by Azure, another female betta (whom we rescued in time) and Pumpkin, a goldfish who did not survive the wrath of Georgette.

After the Georgette set had pretty much died out, I decided to go for some serious fish keeping, i.e. my first 10 gallon tank, which I initially filled with 8 goldfish, one white one, the others orange or gold. I called them Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. I never got around to figuring which dwarf was which, though, since that batch of goldfish was gone within a week or two. I then turned to tropical fish and got a fun little mix of tetras, zebra danios, and platys. I also got a male betta for color and an algae eater for help keeping the tank looking nice. More adventures came: the tetras had it in for the betta; the platys had babies but ate them; we went through several algae eaters before one finally lived more than a couple of weeks. High school ended and I went off to college. I took the betta with me (we rescued him from the tetras in time), but he only lasted about a week at my apartment at college. Interestingly enough, though, two fish back home lasted quite a bit longer, a lone zebra danio and Algernon, the last algae eater, who grew to be about six inches long and had to be fed algae pellets since he was too efficient at getting the tank algae. Not sure how long they could have lived had I not come home and shocked their systems by actually cleaning their tank.

Another year or two passed with no new fish. I got married and while we waited for kids, we got ourselves some fish. We started with goldfish, but by the end of two weeks (or less) they were no more. We went back to a good old fashioned betta (Dragon), and he made it through two moves. His successor, Pearl, made it through a major move, too. And then we retired the fish tank; it was, after all, the same fish tank that I'd used for Georgette and company way back when and it was getting a bit aged. So ended our fish ownership . . . for a little while . . .

We picked up some kids over the years, and eventually the oldest one got big enough to want a pet. We went to the pet store, where she saw the fish, and in a soft-hearted moment we got her two of them. That's it. Two goldfish, 26 cents worth of fish after tax. After our previous gold fish attempt we figured they'd probably live about as long as our small child could possibly be interested in them, so why bother spending money on all the gear. We put them in a fat vase and fed them cereal crumbs. We named them Bi-spot and Frank. Frank died after we'd had them about three weeks, and Bi-spot looked like he was headed for the great pond in the sky as well.

I took put Bi-spot in a bowl of fresh water to live out his last few crooked-swimming hours, but when morning came, there he was still alive and looking just about good as new. Seems there was just a chemical imbalance in the old water or something like that. We got another friend for Bi-spot, another 12 cent goldfish named Stripe, and after awhile I felt that fish with such stamina deserved real fish food and a proper home. We upgraded them to a bowl, and I wanted to put them in a tank, but the first tank we got turned out to be unsuitable for them: it had a filter with a motor that operated in the water. The motor produced just enough heat to make the goldfish uncomfortable. So, back to the bowl went the goldfish and we got some dalmatian mollies, whose story has been told previously on this blog. I eventually got a 10 gallon tank for Bi-spot and Stripe and also a couple of new goldfish friends, two fat fancy little fish that we called Coal (Black Moor) and Cheesy (orange fantail). After several months, Stripe began to look pooched out, and only became more so over time. After awhile, it was hard to tell Cheesy from Stripe (except that Cheesy's tail was quite a bit different). To make a long story short, over a year had passed since we got our last two goldfish and we still had four goldfish alive, all over a year old.

I also got a female betta in there somewhere, Georgiana (and no, I don't know what's up with me and "George" names for female bettas). She lived in various places from the master bedroom to the kitchen until finally moving in to the big tank with the goldfish. She did fine there for awhile, but then she started hiding all day in her little castle. I thought she was dead on more than one occasion, but she was always still breathing. Now, though, it's been quite some time since I've seen her, despite moving stuff around in the tank and even removing her castle (after Cheesy hurt himself trying to squeeze his fat fishy self through). I think there's a good chance she's gone the way of all the world and, um, been recycled; the goldfish have pretty big mouths . . .

So, aside from the lethargic betta and the swollen Stripe stuff, our fish were basically in excellent condition. Until I went out of town to defend my thesis, that is. The fish tank is in the kids' room, on top of the tallest dresser. Sometimes Jared would climb up there and stick his hand in the tank (usually trying to take rocks out), but thus far the fish had survived his terrorism. While I was gone, however, SOMEBODY decided to put our part-time two-year old in the room at the same time as Jared for so-called nap time. One restless two-year-old was one thing; two of them resulted in fish on the floor. Yeah. Not exactly a happy welcome home gift for me to say the least.

Oddly enough, though, only one fish died: Stripe, the one with the mysterious swelling. The other affected fish, Cheesy, swam crookedly for a couple of weeks, but he recovered with a little help from Jared not getting naps and with our all-purpose fish medicine drops. He's still alive now, after the castle incident mentioned above, despite having scraped off his scales in a couple of places. The only fish who died was the one who probably wouldn't have lived much longer anyway. Here's to little miracles!

We've decided it must be something about the local water supply that keeps our fish alive, since we really haven't done anything different compared to our other fish ownership experiences. If you live in the area, you should come see our three amazing goldfish, especially Bi-spot, who is about three times bigger than when we brought him home. If you ask nicely, maybe we'll even let you feed the fish with our latest container of fish food.

The Battle of the Schoolroom

One of the quirks of our life is that Dad (i.e. my husband) is VERY concerned about our children's educations. I'll omit the reasons and politics of the matter, but the end result is that one of my daily "to do" list items is to endeavor to make a very unwilling (but capable) 5 year old work on things like math, writing/spelling, and reading.

Reading is actually fine; she likes reading and has gotten to the point where she compulsively reads pretty much anything that gets within her visual range, including emails and blog posts (granted, she still has to sound things out and doesn't often get very far, but the compulsion is definitely there. We also have science and history time in the form of me reading to her, which usually goes well, too. She loves being read to, and it's amazing how well she retains information presented that way.

Writing and math however . . . ugh! She can do them both, but part of the ritual includes protesting that she has to do the work at all followed by going through every excuse in the book (from "I'm thirsty" to "I have to go potty" and everything in between) before she will actually do any work. On a good day, I lay down the law immediately and we get through before I lose it and never want to see her again. I guess it's time to stop blogging and become a task master again. If nothing else, I do at least feel that I made a VERY good choice not to go into education. :)

An experiment in blogging

Today I am thankful for Google, among other things. I don't know how they do it, but somehow they have the resources to provide me with as much blogging space on the web as I want, and they do the same for my friends so that I can have good things to read and keep up with people I probably would never be able to keep up with otherwise.

That said, I really have gotten quite a bit of use out of Blogger, creating new blogs whenever I feel like I want to talk about a new topic. Today, therefore, is somewhat historic, in that I am revamping an existing blog (this one) to accommodate my latest blog whim rather than securing yet another URL for myself.

So, what is this new blogging whim of mine? I've decided it might be fun to have a "daily blog," i.e. a place where the goal is to post something every day. Don't know how close I'll get to keeping that goal, but I've already posted something here every day that I've had this blog set aside for this purpose. :) Not to say that some posts might end up along the lines of "I've posted; the end" or that I may simply refer to another post on one of my other blogs, but remember that I never promised anything about the content of these daily entries. :)

My friend LaDonna at Just Our Thoughts (see her button in the sidebar) often has daily-themed posts, such as the "Thankful Thursday" shown above. I don't know how many of her themes I will end up following, but I figured "Thankful Thursday" was definitely a good one to try. So, here's to Google, Blogger, and good friends.

A Peculiar Talent

One of the most important but least valued talents in our modern society is the talent of being able to change toilet paper rolls. Yes, that's right, toilet paper. It seems that in every household, there is one special person who has this ability, while the others generally seem clueless. Sometimes there may be someone who has the talent in hidden form, but it usually will not manifest itself until that person ends up living somewhere where no one else possesses the toilet paper talent. I have inherited this talent from my mother, which makes me wonder if two X chromosomes are required for the talent to appear. I should try teaching my boys how to change toilet paper rolls and see if it's even possible. Toilet paper roll holders really are fairly simple devices, yet for so many it is so much easier to just set the new roll somewhere in the vicinity of the toilet rather than actually putting it on the roll holder. Perhaps the majority of people actually prefer to have the roll off the holder and those of us with the roll holder talent simply foil their efforts to have the toilet paper where they want it. It is a fascinating mystery.

Note: The above is intended all in good fun. My mother and I have often mused on the apparent inability of anyone in our homes other than ourselves to change toilet paper, and it became an even funnier issue this week when I found myself in a public bathroom with the roll off of the completely empty holder. And, yes, I did put the roll on the holder. You're welcome, who ever used that stall next.

Ohio Wildlife

This week I saw a live raccoon, sitting on a garbage can right outside my kitchen window. He was a little surprised to see me, too, and left after a minute. That's the second live raccoon I've seen since we've been out here; the other one was washing its paws in the gutter somewhere on the way to Amanda's preschool a year or two ago. Dead raccoons, however, are all over along the roadsides.

At Christmas time in 2006, I saw a possum heading into our back yard. I once saw a weasel in another part of town. We've also seen deer at one of the golf courses, and of course we frequently see Canadian geese (just like people in most of the rest of the country do). Probably the most interesting goose sighting I've had was last spring when Amanda and I saw a goose sitting on a nest on a little island of grass in the parking lot of a big mall. I guess she wanted some visual excitement while she hatched her eggs; the location seemed less than ideal in other respects.

The birds in our back yard look remarkably like a page out of a "Birds of my backyard" sort of book; quite a different situation than things for me growing up way out west. Out there, the only cardinals and blue jays we heard or saw much about were sports teams. Here, they're actual birds that visit the back yard frequently from spring to fall.

And then there are the rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks. The first time I saw a chipmunk out here, it took me a while to realize it wasn't a baby squirrel. We have lots of big, old trees by our place, including a hollow (but still living) tree, and lots and lots of squirrels to go with them. Every so often we get a bunny or two, but it seems that the bunnies prefer to spend most of their time one street away from us, where another blogging friend regularly reports on their activities.

I mentioned the dead raccoons awhile back; the "animal most likely to be spotted alive" along our roadways out here is the ground hog. We see them regularly on the way to church and just about anywhere else where there's a grassy hill; quite a surprise to my Western notion that groundhogs were mythical creatures associated with an obscure holiday in February. :)