Thursday, April 11, 2019
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
Monday, April 8, 2019
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Biggest quality of life improvements of the past 12 months
Since it's been almost a full year since we've been regularly in touch, here are a few things I've discovered that have dramatically improved my quality of life. In no particular order:
1. Joining a book club. Last January (2018) I kind of invited myself into a book club. I thought it was, like, an established society. Then I showed up at the first meeting and there were only two people. Barging into their intimate lunches and conversation was certainly not my intent, but they were gracious and invited me to stay anyway. And their monthly accountability, combined with excellent book recommendations, kept me reading last year. I finished 54 books and watched a lot less Netflix.
2. Inheriting a treadmill. Running is something I've maintained pretty consistently over the past four years. However, finding the will power to run outside in Rochester in winter is challenging, even for people who LOVE running. (I don't love it. I just love how I feel after I'm done.) I don't think Roy was that excited when my parents unloaded their monstrosity of a treadmill into our living room. And I'm quite positive he wasn't excited when the two of us lugged it upstairs into our bedroom. But we've both been running this winter. A lot. I can do it when the kids are napping or after their in bed at night. I don't freeze my tail off or have my nose run off my face. And I can make up some of that lost Netflix time.
3. Finding good babysitters who drive. Picture me getting home at 8:30PM after a night of teaching. Picture me walking into a quiet house, paying the babysitter, then waking up three sound asleep little boys, packing them into the van, driving 30 minutes to return the babysitter to her place of origin, unpacking all the boys, and putting them back to bed. Now picture me walking into a quiet house at 8:30PM, paying the babysitter, sending her on her way, and hopping on the treadmill.
4. King Arthur flour. I'm a fairly meticulous baker. (Ask 4 year old Owen, who is learning to bake by weight rather than volume.) I've been consistently frustrated with wet doughs for baking. Soggy, sticky dough is maddening, and adding more flour led to dense, dry results. I gave King Arthur a chance and I'll probably never go back. The hydration difference is astounding to me. I'm using the exact same weight of product and getting a completely more manageable, delicious, finished product. I kind of wish something as basic as flour didn't have to require some sort of extra investment, but in this instance, I'll do it.
5. New glasses frames. I'm as blind as a bat. My lenses are incredibly thick and heavy. I'd been using the same frames since college, so when the right insurance came along to invest in a new pair without breaking the bank, I jumped at the chance. And then the wonderful man at the eye place introduced me to some sort of magic frames that weigh next to nothing, even with my coke bottle lenses. I've had these glasses for probably six months now and there STILL is not a night that I don't put them on and marvel at how comfortable they are.
6. The Paprika app. I may have mentioned this before--I think I've owned it longer than 12 months, but it's been in the past 4 months that I've started consistently using it for meal planning and grocery lists. Our grocery bills have gone down by about 20% in 2019, despite our growing kids, a toddler who can demolish a tub of hummus in a single go, and the grownups' penchant for exotic, experimental flavors.
7. Monthly dinner parties. Inspired by Lindsay Ostrom at pinchofyum.com, I initiated a monthly dinner club for a group of 6 gals at my church. We rotate homes, menus, and contributions. The long nights of fellowship and excellent food have nourished us all mind, body, and soul. My collection of peacock paraphernalia has blossomed as well.
8. A healthy iPhone battery. My iPhone was refurbished when we bought it and the battery did odd things. It didn't like cold weather any more than I do, so it would nosedive in subzero temperatures. I'd go from 80%-5% in two minutes. I became tethered to charging cables, and had to have one with me at all times in order to ensure I'd be able to access my phone. Roy finally stole it from me and took it to the Apple store to replace the offending part. Now I don't need to charge three times a day. One of those things that bugs you but you don't realize how much it's bugging you until it's fixed.
The treadmill has stopped overhead, so Roy must be done. Signing off for now so we can enjoy a little time together before I put on my feather-light glasses and crawl into bed.
1. Joining a book club. Last January (2018) I kind of invited myself into a book club. I thought it was, like, an established society. Then I showed up at the first meeting and there were only two people. Barging into their intimate lunches and conversation was certainly not my intent, but they were gracious and invited me to stay anyway. And their monthly accountability, combined with excellent book recommendations, kept me reading last year. I finished 54 books and watched a lot less Netflix.
2. Inheriting a treadmill. Running is something I've maintained pretty consistently over the past four years. However, finding the will power to run outside in Rochester in winter is challenging, even for people who LOVE running. (I don't love it. I just love how I feel after I'm done.) I don't think Roy was that excited when my parents unloaded their monstrosity of a treadmill into our living room. And I'm quite positive he wasn't excited when the two of us lugged it upstairs into our bedroom. But we've both been running this winter. A lot. I can do it when the kids are napping or after their in bed at night. I don't freeze my tail off or have my nose run off my face. And I can make up some of that lost Netflix time.
3. Finding good babysitters who drive. Picture me getting home at 8:30PM after a night of teaching. Picture me walking into a quiet house, paying the babysitter, then waking up three sound asleep little boys, packing them into the van, driving 30 minutes to return the babysitter to her place of origin, unpacking all the boys, and putting them back to bed. Now picture me walking into a quiet house at 8:30PM, paying the babysitter, sending her on her way, and hopping on the treadmill.
4. King Arthur flour. I'm a fairly meticulous baker. (Ask 4 year old Owen, who is learning to bake by weight rather than volume.) I've been consistently frustrated with wet doughs for baking. Soggy, sticky dough is maddening, and adding more flour led to dense, dry results. I gave King Arthur a chance and I'll probably never go back. The hydration difference is astounding to me. I'm using the exact same weight of product and getting a completely more manageable, delicious, finished product. I kind of wish something as basic as flour didn't have to require some sort of extra investment, but in this instance, I'll do it.
5. New glasses frames. I'm as blind as a bat. My lenses are incredibly thick and heavy. I'd been using the same frames since college, so when the right insurance came along to invest in a new pair without breaking the bank, I jumped at the chance. And then the wonderful man at the eye place introduced me to some sort of magic frames that weigh next to nothing, even with my coke bottle lenses. I've had these glasses for probably six months now and there STILL is not a night that I don't put them on and marvel at how comfortable they are.
6. The Paprika app. I may have mentioned this before--I think I've owned it longer than 12 months, but it's been in the past 4 months that I've started consistently using it for meal planning and grocery lists. Our grocery bills have gone down by about 20% in 2019, despite our growing kids, a toddler who can demolish a tub of hummus in a single go, and the grownups' penchant for exotic, experimental flavors.
7. Monthly dinner parties. Inspired by Lindsay Ostrom at pinchofyum.com, I initiated a monthly dinner club for a group of 6 gals at my church. We rotate homes, menus, and contributions. The long nights of fellowship and excellent food have nourished us all mind, body, and soul. My collection of peacock paraphernalia has blossomed as well.
8. A healthy iPhone battery. My iPhone was refurbished when we bought it and the battery did odd things. It didn't like cold weather any more than I do, so it would nosedive in subzero temperatures. I'd go from 80%-5% in two minutes. I became tethered to charging cables, and had to have one with me at all times in order to ensure I'd be able to access my phone. Roy finally stole it from me and took it to the Apple store to replace the offending part. Now I don't need to charge three times a day. One of those things that bugs you but you don't realize how much it's bugging you until it's fixed.
The treadmill has stopped overhead, so Roy must be done. Signing off for now so we can enjoy a little time together before I put on my feather-light glasses and crawl into bed.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Oh, hey there!
Reasons for my first blog post in well over a year...
1. Blogging again has been niggling at the back of my mind for a few months now.
2. Circumstances warranted it (see main content).
3. Roy bought a Chromebook and I wanted to play with his new toy.
I guess I didn't really have a choice.
Backtracking to last Friday...
Doctors appointments with three boys are no joke. They are, perhaps, the single biggest event I have to think through meticulously ahead of time. In addition to the basic necessities (keys, phone, wallet) I also have to make sure I have the right insurance cards, ample activities to survive waiting rooms, a secret bribe in case of needles, and anybody who is being inspected should have probably bathed somewhat recently. (That's the hardest part.)
So, anyway. Owen's annual pediatric immunology appointment was on Friday. His doctor operates out of the biggest hospital downtown. We are fortunate to have him seen by one of the best, but this necessitates making appointments months in advance. We had waited four months for this appointment and I was looking forward to having his allergen levels tested and hoping for improvement again this year. Last year he tested negative for hazelnuts and he and James consumed more celebratory Nutella in 2018 than I should probably publicly admit.
I packed the kids up, with all the necessities, and we were out the door an hour before the appointment started. It usually only takes 15 minutes to get the hospital, but we were going to be dealing with rush hour traffic and a parking garage. I waved forlornly to my barely-sipped cup of coffee on the way to the garage.
But! Miracles! We had zero traffic and found a parking spot without issue. We entered the main lobby at Strong with 40 minutes to spare. I eyed the coffee shop across the expanse and decided we could swing it. We entered the queue.
James and Owen immediately began begging for a snack. I juggled my purse (and Felix) to reach for my wallet when I felt a lurch on my right side. Suddenly there was a trickle of warmth down my arm. I looked at Felix, who looked back at me and then, urgently, baptized us both with his breakfast.
Motherly instincts are never more present than in those split seconds when you have to decide what to do about all the puke. Should I catch it in my hand? Should I drop the kid? (No.) Should I jump out of the way? My lack of caffeine did not help me here. By the time it was over my lovely trench coat was covered. There was puke in my purse and on my pants. It was in my shoes. It was all over Felix, his clothes, his shoes, and his George. It was all over the floor too. It was just all over.
The barista on duty shot us a look of disgust and called cleaning services. I asked, as graciously as I could, for some napkins. "I just called cleaning services so you'll have to wait for them to get here."
I looked back at the barista (hopefully not with too much disgust...) and replied, "Look, I'm dripping in vomit and so is my baby. Where are your napkins?"
A customer came to our aid with napkins. I bagged all of the stuffed animals and articles of clothing not required for basic modesty and surveyed the scene.
We waited four months for this appointment. We were all there. We had to at least check in.
So we went to the sixth floor and checked in. I explained the situation (I don't think they needed much of a verbal on that one) and, bless them, we were able to get some help. I was pointed towards a bathroom and was met there with a little hospital gown for Felix. For not being the patient I was paying for, he looked awfully pathetic and cute. I washed my pants off best as I could and returned to the waiting room. Sometime between lobby and here Owen's jacket had come off. I doubted we'd ever see it again.
We decided to stay for the appointment. It couldn't be more than an hour right? We had come all this way...
To trim what is already a very long story, the boys got to watch about 8 Curious George episodes and Felix threw up again before we were finally done. Sometime during the third hour I promised James and Owen that I would pick up whatever they wanted for lunch. Perhaps they anticipated this bribe because they replied in perfect, seemingly rehearsed, unison, "Chicken Charlie pizza from Salvatores."
"You got it guys. Let's just stay as patient as we can while we wait."
James, looks at Owen, "We have to stay STRONG Owen!"
Owen, looks at James, "No, YOU have to stay strong James!"
We got home with hot, fresh pizza. I did laundry. I had a cup of coffee. Felix didn't throw up again. (Thank buddy for only needing to do that while we were out...) The world slowly righted itself again.
Owen, in case you were wondering, skin-tested negative for both pistachios and PEANUTS this time. We still need official blood work, but we're optimistic that he might be able to have food challenges for both these foods in the near future. Oh, for a world with peanut butter again. Glory be!
I am thankful for the time and new toy to record this experience for posterity. Maybe Roy will let me borrow it again sometime and I can blog twice in one calendar year.
P.S. If you happen to be at Strong Hospital and see a little blue and yellow windbreaker, it belongs to Owen. And if you see a little blue velcro sneaker, size 5.5, it's Felix's. Just the one sneaker. My dignity is lying around there someplace too.
1. Blogging again has been niggling at the back of my mind for a few months now.
2. Circumstances warranted it (see main content).
3. Roy bought a Chromebook and I wanted to play with his new toy.
I guess I didn't really have a choice.
Backtracking to last Friday...
Doctors appointments with three boys are no joke. They are, perhaps, the single biggest event I have to think through meticulously ahead of time. In addition to the basic necessities (keys, phone, wallet) I also have to make sure I have the right insurance cards, ample activities to survive waiting rooms, a secret bribe in case of needles, and anybody who is being inspected should have probably bathed somewhat recently. (That's the hardest part.)
So, anyway. Owen's annual pediatric immunology appointment was on Friday. His doctor operates out of the biggest hospital downtown. We are fortunate to have him seen by one of the best, but this necessitates making appointments months in advance. We had waited four months for this appointment and I was looking forward to having his allergen levels tested and hoping for improvement again this year. Last year he tested negative for hazelnuts and he and James consumed more celebratory Nutella in 2018 than I should probably publicly admit.
I packed the kids up, with all the necessities, and we were out the door an hour before the appointment started. It usually only takes 15 minutes to get the hospital, but we were going to be dealing with rush hour traffic and a parking garage. I waved forlornly to my barely-sipped cup of coffee on the way to the garage.
But! Miracles! We had zero traffic and found a parking spot without issue. We entered the main lobby at Strong with 40 minutes to spare. I eyed the coffee shop across the expanse and decided we could swing it. We entered the queue.
James and Owen immediately began begging for a snack. I juggled my purse (and Felix) to reach for my wallet when I felt a lurch on my right side. Suddenly there was a trickle of warmth down my arm. I looked at Felix, who looked back at me and then, urgently, baptized us both with his breakfast.
Motherly instincts are never more present than in those split seconds when you have to decide what to do about all the puke. Should I catch it in my hand? Should I drop the kid? (No.) Should I jump out of the way? My lack of caffeine did not help me here. By the time it was over my lovely trench coat was covered. There was puke in my purse and on my pants. It was in my shoes. It was all over Felix, his clothes, his shoes, and his George. It was all over the floor too. It was just all over.
The barista on duty shot us a look of disgust and called cleaning services. I asked, as graciously as I could, for some napkins. "I just called cleaning services so you'll have to wait for them to get here."
I looked back at the barista (hopefully not with too much disgust...) and replied, "Look, I'm dripping in vomit and so is my baby. Where are your napkins?"
A customer came to our aid with napkins. I bagged all of the stuffed animals and articles of clothing not required for basic modesty and surveyed the scene.
We waited four months for this appointment. We were all there. We had to at least check in.
So we went to the sixth floor and checked in. I explained the situation (I don't think they needed much of a verbal on that one) and, bless them, we were able to get some help. I was pointed towards a bathroom and was met there with a little hospital gown for Felix. For not being the patient I was paying for, he looked awfully pathetic and cute. I washed my pants off best as I could and returned to the waiting room. Sometime between lobby and here Owen's jacket had come off. I doubted we'd ever see it again.
We decided to stay for the appointment. It couldn't be more than an hour right? We had come all this way...
To trim what is already a very long story, the boys got to watch about 8 Curious George episodes and Felix threw up again before we were finally done. Sometime during the third hour I promised James and Owen that I would pick up whatever they wanted for lunch. Perhaps they anticipated this bribe because they replied in perfect, seemingly rehearsed, unison, "Chicken Charlie pizza from Salvatores."
"You got it guys. Let's just stay as patient as we can while we wait."
James, looks at Owen, "We have to stay STRONG Owen!"
Owen, looks at James, "No, YOU have to stay strong James!"
We got home with hot, fresh pizza. I did laundry. I had a cup of coffee. Felix didn't throw up again. (Thank buddy for only needing to do that while we were out...) The world slowly righted itself again.
Owen, in case you were wondering, skin-tested negative for both pistachios and PEANUTS this time. We still need official blood work, but we're optimistic that he might be able to have food challenges for both these foods in the near future. Oh, for a world with peanut butter again. Glory be!
I am thankful for the time and new toy to record this experience for posterity. Maybe Roy will let me borrow it again sometime and I can blog twice in one calendar year.
P.S. If you happen to be at Strong Hospital and see a little blue and yellow windbreaker, it belongs to Owen. And if you see a little blue velcro sneaker, size 5.5, it's Felix's. Just the one sneaker. My dignity is lying around there someplace too.
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