I'm Sure My Neighbors Would Appreciate My Clothesline

For about a year and a half there has been a retractable clothesline sitting in our garage waiting to be assembled and mounted to the house. It does little good to have a clothesline in a box in the garage. On the other hand I've found another use for our fence.

In other news, Colby just left with all the kids to go frisbee golfing. Whoo hoo!!

A Good, But Depressing, Book

Life sucks. Yes, it's true. As Elizabeth Edwards points out in her book Resilience, life sends winds strong enough to blow us off course. Like the wind that sent her son Wade's car off the road causing a wreck that killed him instantly. Edwards goes on and on about what a great kid he was and questions why God would take such a nice boy. There are plenty of worse people who could've died instead, I guess. Resilience is both morbid and inspiring. I found so much loneliness in Edwards' life. After the death of her son she moved on and had more children. However, it seemed to me that she continues through life shackled to the death of her firstborn. It doesn't help that she was diagnosed with breast cancer when her children were preschoolers or that said cancer is now terminal. Her husband John (you know, the guy who ran for vice president) cheated on her while she was battling cancer. Theirs seems to be a strong marriage nonetheless because, I think, they've realized that marriage isn't always about love but is instead about commitment.

Edwards details all the tragedies in her life and attempts to contrast them with her optimism and, well, resilience. Despite the fact that I find her to be very strong, the book left me feeling more depressed than hopeful. It is a beautifully written memoir that oftentimes flounders with repetition. I will not ever criticize how she grieves the loss of her son or handles the cancer that is slowly ravaging her body. I will say, however, that a book entitled Resilience seems a little more like a pity party to me.

Perhaps the reason I find the book so depressing is that I am that person who always thinks I have cancer and that I'll get in a car wreck with a minivan full of kids. I'm the person who never likes to travel alone with my husband for fear that we will both die and then who will raise our children?? If so many terrible things can happen to such a smart, beautiful, intelligent lady what chance have I got? I had hoped that the book would leave me feeling that I could survive in the face of these adversities, but instead I just felt bad.

Frisbee Golf

Frisbee golf is an activity almost anyone can do. It requires the investment of a few discs, but generally the "golf" courses are free to play. Free. . . music to my ears. We loaded up the kids, a water jug, and some Frisbees and headed to Roper park for Frisbee, or disc, golf.

This is the first time in years Colby had been out, and we haven't taken the kids since I was preggers with Evie. The weather was warm but not humid. The disc course is large but not unmanageable. We didn't really expect much structure and didn't keep score. It was nice to get everyone out for some exercise and fresh air. Of course, we had to hear the usual glass half empty comments from Brody: "I'm not playing Frisbee golf again because I'm all sweaty." "Are we gonna be here all day?"

The girls were more interested in a stray cat than golfing. The boys just wanted to run around and throw their discs at each other. Colby wanted to jump in front of a car passing on the nearby interstate. And me?? I just took the photos and dispensed water.

Some kind young men informed us on about hole 6 that we left our van door open. Did they close it for us? No, they just left it open. Nice. So, we quickly trekked back to the van to close the door. It was okay, though. I think everyone was pretty much done, especially Colby. He is a man of little patience when it comes to the kids.

A Trip to the Zoo (Again)

Today I volunteered to watch my friend D's two boys aged 6 and 9. My boys went to their house yesterday, so I figure it's a fair trade. Knowing that D's boys love to be outside and my boys don't, I decided that a trip to the zoo might be a nice way to please everyone. Me, six kids, and a cooler headed to the zoo. It's a hot day, but the zoo is shady and breezy. The kids were not impressed with their sandwiches. "What's wrong with this bread?" said D's oldest son. Well, it was the whole grain healthy bread with little seeds and junk in it that really makes kids jump for joy. My kids are used to it, but I guess I should've bought a cheap loaf for our guests' sandwiches.

D's boys are good kids and don't cause too much trouble when they come over. The oldest is kind of a prankster and thoroughly doused Dade with a cup of water from the zoo's cooling mist machines. It looked like he peed his pants, and Dade actually said, "Now you'll make me embarrassed in front of all these people!" This from the boy who has no trouble picking his nose, falling flat on his face, or messing with his, um, junk in front of "all these people."

The dumbass in the butterfly pavilion in his attempt to prevent butterflies from escaping, let 4 of my kids out of the building but not me and the other two. We had to wait inside for other groups before he finally let me out to join the 4 unsupervised rugrats. Thank you, Pimple McSophomore for your careful regard for the safety of my children (dripping sarcasm).

We had a lovely time, but my kids (especially, you guessed it, Brody, and I quote in typical Brody style, "Are we gonna be here forever??") were a little anxious to get going. We just went to the Children's Zoo last week, and they went to the Omaha zoo on Sunday. I think they have their fill of the zoo for awhile.

For a Lack of Any News, I'll Talk a Bit About Chili

Okay, so I was watching the Food Network the other day, and Giada was making a white bean chicken chili. It looked really good and healthy, so I thought I'd try it. Plus, my three pickiest eaters were at Nana Ju Ju's. I bought some spices I'd never bought before. I couldn't find swiss chard so used spinach. I was on my way, however, to making the best chili ever.

Colby gave it rave reviews. My brother Alex said it was better than our dad's regular old chili. Sorry, Dad. Nana Ju Ju liked it. Of course, all the kids took one look at it and decided pb & j would be better. Amateurs. Pfft. I also made a cheese and scallion garlic bread loaded with tons of butter. Yummy but defeated the whole purpose of making the healthy chili.

Giada's White Bean and Chicken Chili That Nichole Ripped Off

Ingredients
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 pounds ground chicken
1 teaspoon salt, plus more for seasoning
2 tablespoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon fennel seeds
1 tablespoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons chili powder
3 tablespoons flour
2 (15-ounce cans) cannellini or other white beans, rinsed and drained
1 bunch (about 1 pound) Swiss chard, stems removed, leaves chopped into 1-inch pieces
11/2 cups frozen corn, thawed
4 cups low-sodium chicken stock
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Freshly ground black pepper for seasoning
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

Directions
In a large heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Add 1 teaspoon salt, cumin, fennel seeds, oregano, and chili powder. Let toast for a few minutes (Nichole added this in after watching the episode on t.v.) Add the ground chicken. Cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken is cooked through, about 8 minutes. Stir the flour into the chicken mixture. Add the beans, Swiss chard, corn, and chicken stock. Bring the mixture to a simmer, scraping up the brown bits that cling to the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon. Simmer for 55-60 minutes until the liquid has reduced by about half and the chili has thickened. Add the red pepper flakes and simmer for another 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Ladle the chili into serving bowls. Sprinkle with the Parmesan cheese and chopped parsley.

How We Do

This is how my boys play Wii. . . the most lazy way possible.

Happy 4th Birthday, Evelyn!

I remember when I first heard those words from the midwife as Daddy and I gazed at your picture on the ultrasound monitor: I'm no expert, but those three lines look like a vagina to me. I knew it. I knew from the moment that first wave of nausea hit that you, my daughter, would soon be punching me in the bladder. I knew when I held you in my arms for the first time all gooey and crying that we were special. We belonged together.

Today, as you turn 4, I remember all the excitement I had about finally buying pink clothes. I loved my daughter before I even knew I would ever have a daughter. And I love you, Evelyn, so much. I can't wait to watch you grow up.

A Good Book

My next book review is of a book that I saw at the library and didn't hesitate for one minute to put in my canvas book bag. I didn't even read the inside cover to see what it was about. Good Book by David Plotz is a jarring examination of the Bible from the perspective of a Jewish man.

A short back story: I was raised Lutheran and attended Lutheran school through the eighth grade. Like many young women, I often saw the Church as a hindrance to a thoughtful and tolerant mind. Why were there no female leaders in my church? Why do the Bible stories never ever have strong, smart, powerful women? I couldn't relate to this stuff. Little girls have enough trouble finding role models, and most religions are no more helpful in that regard. Despite the pronunciations that Jesus loved me, I guess as I entered high school I never really felt the need for the love of such a sexist, rude, vengeful, and frankly unsympathetic deity. Don't get me wrong, I believe many good things about God and how religion can help provide comfort and social order.

But as reading Plotz's book has reinforced, many of us have been spoon fed stories from the Bible without ever really reading the stories ourselves and getting the full context and power of the words. We never really examine who wrote down these words and why. Sure, religion is about faith, but blind faith is no substitute for well-informed faith. Plotz's book also uses the Bible to detail the conflicts over land in Israel dating back from basically the beginning of time. Land in Israel is still one of the greatest foreign policy issues we face, and this conflict is deeply rooted in Biblical text.

A quick, funny, and interesting read that is both thought provoking and light.

The Vescapades Living Room

Make a Smilebox slideshow

After burning lots of midnight oil and brain cells from primer fumes, our living room is 99% complete. We have the big clock to hang and need some artwork for a few walls. We didn't realize how peach the paint was until we primed. Wow. It looked so dirty. After seeing the completed project, I only wish we would've painted more walls the dark brown. I didn't want the room to be too dark, and we kind of wanted to stay neutral for when we decide to sell the house. That said, the dark brown looks fantastic! It's like chocolate ice cream, and who doesn't love ice cream? The lighter color is called oyster but looks white. It's actually a brownish white but looks pretty much like plain white. It's lighter than I imagined, and I sort of wish we had gone a shade darker.

The room looks so much cleaner and brighter. Our next project will be the master bedroom. It will be green. I can't wait!

I Made It Myself

Aunt Carrie got Evelyn a Hannah Montana design your own wallet kit. Since then I have heard this about a hundred times, "Mom, can we do this now?" Last evening the time was finally right: I wanted to avoid going outside in the heat at all costs and what better excuse than craft time with Evie?

Colby and Soren went out to mow the lawn despite the fact that not one drop of sweat could possibly evaporate in the sweltering humidity, heat, and utter stillness. Colby put on a bandanna to absorb the sweat that would soon be dripping from his brow. Evie decided she needed a bandanna, too, and had one that she made at Bible school. Ready to attempt the grueling task of wallet decorating, Evie sat nicely at the table with glitter glue and sequins. What more could a little girl want?

Home from Norfolk

We arrived home from Norfolk this evening with a van full of kids, dogs, and clothes. The trip was uneventful, thank goodness, and Soren didn't even cry. We had a lovely visit with Colby's family. Saturday night Colby and I actually got to go out on a date without any kids!!! We went with our friends Sara and Travis to a few Mexican restaurants to eat tamales and fried ice cream and drink margaritas. I wish we had been in Lincoln so we could've had a little more selection in our date destinations, but I am certainly not going to complain. I wore a cute dress in which I felt very exposed, but I'm really trying to make the effort to be more satisfied with my appearance. The photos are from the night I bought the dress and are my attempt to see how fat I really look. I decided I didn't look so bad and tore the tags off. Nothing like tearing off tags to cement one's relationship to one's clothes. My husband really liked the dress and repeatedly attempted to look down my top and started sweating every time leg past my knee was exposed. He really knows how to make a girl feel good. (sarcasm dripping)

A big shout out to Colby's parents and sister for taking care of my kiddos. They did just about every activity under the sun: fishing, swimming in the pool and lake, parks, bowling, bumper boats, fireworks, shopping, trip to the trout farm, horseback riding, junk food eating, and more. I'm not joking when I say Dade gained at least 5lbs. during his visit.

On our way home we stopped by my friend Amanda's house to see her newborn Pug puppies and pick up seven, yes SEVEN, large trash bags full of clothes for Evie. The puppies are adorable and the clothes are already sorted. I now have about 100 loads of laundry to do, so I suppose I had better get to work.

My Day, By: Soren

I love being a toddler. I enjoy being able to drool and spit without remorse. I wake up and immediately ask for my Gabba Gabba movie because by morning it's been at least 9 hours since I've watched it. I eat my Cheerios in the living room and feed some to the dogs. All day long I tell Mom that I can do it, but she insists upon helping me. I get away with a lot of naughty stuff because Mom says I'm "just a baby." If she only knew my true intentions. . .

I love to play my flute. I don't think Mom and Dad like it nearly as much as I do. Everytime I play it Dad grimmaces and Mom plugs her ears.

And, as always, clothing is optional.

Painting Hell

With 3 of the kids at Grandma's house, we decided to undertake the massive painting project that is our living room/entry way/hallway. We stayed up until almost 2 am last night trying to get a good start on the chore. Colby and I listened to the Hit List on digital cable. I love the idea of commercial free radio (on t.v.), but they still played the same crap over and over just like the regular radio. Annoying at 1 am.

We finally finished this afternoon after 5 hours of non stop work. Well, we decided not to paint the ceiling in the hallway because we were just too sick of painting. We still have to paint some picture frames and light switch covers, and there is some touching up that needs to be done. We also have to put up a new curtain rod. The one we have now, though barely 5 months old, broke. Effing plastic. I hope to have photos to post later in the week of the finished project.

In an effort to curb painting burn out, the three of us went downtown this morning and walked around the shops. There was a sickly looking bat crawling through the locally owned book store. They called animal control. We bought a cool globe at the antique store to display on the hall table. Does anyone remember when there were countries called Siam, French West Africa, or Sinkiang? Me either. We also hit the record store and purchased Saturday Night Fever, Grease, and Run DMC.

For lunch we ate at Mask-Fit, a restaurant owned by a guy Colby hired to work at Farmland. It is a Kurdish/Mexican restaurant. I know, weird. I had a Kurdish tamale which was delicious. And those Kurdish cookies? Oh. My. God. Coconut filled goodness. I want to go back for falafel, but we've already gone out to eat pretty much every meal since we started painting. We need a break from the fumes, and our rumbling tummies are the perfect excuse. We had Ruby Tuesdays for supper, but I had a coupon for a free meal. Soren ate her weight in a salad of edamame, romaine, cheese, and ranch dressing.

After a busy day, I suppose I should be headed off to bed. Maybe a glass of white zin first.

It's Like Afghanistan but Without the Social Unrest and Property Damage

July 4th was my Independence Day: the three oldest kids left for a week at Grandma's. Hooray!

Colby's parents came down from Norfolk to pick up the kids, light firecrackers, and help install some new light fixtures. The kids were so excited to leave that I wondered if perhaps there's something wrong with me??? Grandpa and Grandma have a week of fun and exciting activities planned, and I know the kids can't wait to eat ice cream sandwiches and chips all week. In honor of America's celebration of Independence, the local newspaper printed an American history quiz. My mother-in-law and I only got one out of 25 wrong: what year was the Constitution ratified. . . who cares? I'm not so good with dates. We also forgot the "freedom to petition" when listing the 5 rights guaranteed by the first amendment, but who the hell petitions anymore anyway? Colby and his dad got 2 ceiling fans and one entry way light installed. Photos will follow as soon as the living room is all done.

We lit fireworks with the neighbors until 11pm, but the neighborhood was alight with celebratory fireworks until at least 12:30 am. I thought that this must be what it's like to live in a war zone - minus the fear, death and destruction.

Sans 3 children, Colby, Soren, and I headed to our favorite swanky restaurant (Green Gateau) for breakfast this morning. I had Eggs Oscar: eggs Benedict with crab cakes instead of canadian bacon. TO DIE FOR. Seriously. Wow. We plan to spend the rest of the day on home improvement projects. The fun is over.

July 3rd

What a Friday night we had planned. Soda: check. Brats: check. Fireworks: check. S'mores: check. Pouring rain: check (damn).

We planned to light off all of our fireworks on Friday night because the kids were leaving for Grandma's house on Saturday. We lit some daylight fireworks while the grill heated up. Unfortunately, the skies were gray and looked of rain. As the evening progressed, it rotated between total down pour and spitting drizzle. At times we all huddled in the gargae with snacks and booze to pass the time. Nonetheless, we enjoyed everything that we had planned: food, fireworks, and s'mores. The neighbors were all outside watching the activities, and we got a chance to visit and blow stuff up together. I found out that my neighbors J and D are huge pyros. The Park Man abd his wife were nowhere to be seen, as usual. I'm sure he had to leave the house so that he wouldn't see all the bottle rockets and burnt out fireworks falling onto his lawn.

The kids all wanted to light stuff. Evelyn lit a hundred smoke balls. Dade and Brody preferred the stuff that makes noise. They escaped with only a few minor burns and one skinned elbow from Dade dancing like a crazy man. It was so nice to spend the time at home together and just hang out. Despite the rain, I'd say this was the best July 3rd ever!

The Park Man

I must talk a little bit about my across the street neighbor T. T and his wife have lived in their home since it was built about 12 years ago. Needless to say, T is a perfectionist when it comes to his yard and garage. I've never seen the inside of their house, but I would imagine it's immaculate. The following are things I find a little over the top when it comes to yard management:

1- Spraying off every single inch of sidewalk, driveway, and landscaping brick daily to make sure not a speck of errant grass or ant hill remains.

2- Taking scissors to the grass if you miss even the smallest area with the lawn mower or trimmer.

3- Cleaning your lawn mower every time you mow because apparently it won't run next time if you leave a blade of grass on it.

4- Playing fake frog croaking noises on your backyard patio to make it a little more "natural."

Okay, so I really shouldn't complain about T. He's a great neighbor. A little shy, but maybe we scare him. For god's sake, T's next door neighbor has a plastic snowman in their front yard which has been there since we moved in nearly 2 years ago. It could be worse. I've told Colby and other neighbors that T must not like his wife because he's always working in the yard. Always. I think I must also add that T's garage is probably more decorated than my house. Inside you will find wall paper, wainscoting, and little ships sitting on pretty wooden shelves. My other neighbor J calls T "The Park Man" because his yard is so perfect. With all the budget cuts here in Lincoln, I doubt even the parks look as nice as his yard. Props to T for keeping his yard so nice, even at the expense of his reputation of sanity amongst his neighbors.

Summer Reading

We are all participating in the summer reading program at the local library. On a side note, I want to give a shout out to the government for public libraries. That said, I can continue. Mostly the reading program just consists of visiting the library to do activities and reading a certain number of hours or pages.

I rarely read fiction books. I often find that real life is stranger than fiction anyway. In an earlier blog I had espoused a new commitment to reading, and the reading program has encouraged me to do so. The book I'm currently reading is Such a Pretty Fat by Jen Lancaster. It is one of several memoirs of her life. So far, it's a great book. I just finished her most recent memoir Pretty in Plaid which was also laugh out loud funny and sweet. Jen Lancaster is an overweight, pretty, and smart woman who loves expensive clothes, Twinkies, and sarcasm. She's like an overweight Carrie Bradshaw dripping with sarcasm and butter. My type of girl. I usually read intellectual non fiction about Darfur and social justice, and Ms. Lancaster's books have been a breath of fresh air.