<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710</id><updated>2011-07-07T20:55:11.092-06:00</updated><category term='Korea'/><category term='Button'/><category term='politics'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='cute baby tricks'/><category term='Toddlerhood'/><category term='home(s)'/><category term='random things C does'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='misc.'/><category term='space cadet'/><category term='Utah'/><category term='don&apos;t go into the kitchen'/><category term='Baby Luke'/><category term='Weight Watchers'/><category term='DC life'/><category term='family'/><category term='GAH'/><category term='the other kids'/><category term='homes'/><category term='student life'/><category term='(in)fertility'/><category term='rollover'/><category term='military life'/><category term='teaching'/><category term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><category term='growing up'/><title type='text'>This Sorta Fairytale</title><subtitle type='html'>A "Sorta Fairytale" about marriage, life, and motherhood after
infertility</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>414</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7671474312018712871</id><published>2010-04-14T21:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T21:00:32.662-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Testing 1, 2, 3</title><content type='html'>Actual updates (for the first time in over a year) are forthcoming--don't delete me yet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7671474312018712871?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7671474312018712871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7671474312018712871' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7671474312018712871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7671474312018712871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2010/04/testing-1-2-3.html' title='Testing 1, 2, 3'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1360837611209580928</id><published>2009-04-05T18:29:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T18:37:03.220-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>RIP, Old Faithful</title><content type='html'>Last night, after 5 faithful years of service, my beloved iBook laptop rolled over and died.  One minute I was happily surfing the web, the next the screen turned white and stayed that way.  The hard drive, thankfully, was fine, but the LCD screen couldn't be saved.  After much gnashing of teeth and shedding of tears, I went to sleep last night convinced that my days as a laptop owner were at least temporarily over, but woke up this morning to a new MacBook courtesy of Juan.  He's kind of a great husband, if you haven't picked up on that by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new computer is great.  It's got a bigger screen; more memory; and because we were able to save the hard drive from my old computer, the transition between the two has been seamless.  Even my Internet bookmarks are all where they're supposed to be.  Still, I miss my iBook.  That computer saw me through a lot of hard times, and it's going to be hard to let it go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1360837611209580928?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1360837611209580928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1360837611209580928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1360837611209580928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1360837611209580928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/04/rip-old-faithful.html' title='RIP, Old Faithful'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6085952119087249285</id><published>2009-04-03T20:58:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T21:09:57.455-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>Milestones ahoy!</title><content type='html'>Luke has officially been invited to his first ever birthday party.  It's for one of his daycare classmates, a little girl he evidently likes because whenever I mention her name he gets a big smile on his face and starts gabbing away incomprehensibly.  It's beyond cute.  I'm oddly anxious about going to the party, though, since I don't know any of the other daycare moms beyond a quick smile we sometimes exchange during the craziness of dropoffs and pickups.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/SdbOj22hN8I/AAAAAAAAFU0/h_Ft8YXwBZQ/s640/DSC03256.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Luke's recently become quite a fan of the Sesame Street puppets we found for him, and he now refuses to do anything some days unless he can have both "Bidda Bird" and "Grober" on his hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6085952119087249285?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6085952119087249285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6085952119087249285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6085952119087249285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6085952119087249285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/04/milestones-ahoy.html' title='Milestones ahoy!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/SdbOj22hN8I/AAAAAAAAFU0/h_Ft8YXwBZQ/s72-c/DSC03256.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5127569314213244785</id><published>2009-03-26T20:37:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T21:03:04.532-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Spring Break in Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw0gtz8jDI/AAAAAAAABk0/cmXpTQ5eZYo/s640/IMG_2071.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in love with this picture of my mom, Luke, and me walking to the park.  It really exemplifies everything about our trip--the boy had a blast as did all the adults.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ScxBsFOBXgI/AAAAAAAAFUU/4dLlJ8Re0jk/s640/C%20J%20and%20Luke%20small.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More on the way to the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw0zs5Yj7I/AAAAAAAABlo/VYxLJJMwVQU/s640/IMG_2114.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the park--swings were a big hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ScZ7dcFH3rI/AAAAAAAAFNo/QX22cAq9Fhw/s640/DSC03109.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As were the slides--he loved the slides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw1MeZptzI/AAAAAAAABmk/lAdIIPs2TpU/s640/IMG_2145.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Checking out bunnies at the zoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ScZ9aeuGKaI/AAAAAAAAFUM/ZC7zGprA2JE/s512/DSC03177.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giving the side eye to some snakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw1TrEo1KI/AAAAAAAABnE/DzF-k4LGebU/s512/IMG_2157.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Climbing Mt. Daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw0rIUqp3I/AAAAAAAABlY/Vejjh4oEVQs/s640/IMG_2098.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy at the library&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ScZ8jUkgrbI/AAAAAAAAFO4/2KbDkqVmo6Q/s640/DSC03156.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a ham with friends Taylor and Robbie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5127569314213244785?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5127569314213244785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5127569314213244785' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5127569314213244785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5127569314213244785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-break-in-pictures.html' title='Spring Break in Pictures'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_f62pastaVzk/Scw0gtz8jDI/AAAAAAAABk0/cmXpTQ5eZYo/s72-c/IMG_2071.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3967975070165587989</id><published>2009-03-14T09:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T09:53:45.374-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>Since there hasn't been enough toddler cuteness here for awhile</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/STFX2e6ZO2I/AAAAAAAAEvU/CAVLV6gsZ3I/s640/DSC03055.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lucas, can you say O-ba-ma?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uppy Mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"O-ba-ma?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A-B Mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Obama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah-da Mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's trying, I'll give him that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3967975070165587989?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3967975070165587989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3967975070165587989' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3967975070165587989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3967975070165587989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/03/since-there-hasnt-been-enough-toddler.html' title='Since there hasn&apos;t been enough toddler cuteness here for awhile'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/STFX2e6ZO2I/AAAAAAAAEvU/CAVLV6gsZ3I/s72-c/DSC03055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7316698882329963822</id><published>2009-03-09T19:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T19:54:09.827-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>Testing Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed id="VideoPlayback" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-3257538861432180933&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=true" style="width:400px;height:326px" allowFullScreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke dances with our nanny, Esther.  Listen at the end for some vocal stylings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7316698882329963822?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7316698882329963822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7316698882329963822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7316698882329963822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7316698882329963822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/03/testing-video.html' title='Testing Video'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1292847154456320515</id><published>2009-03-03T18:44:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T19:11:28.786-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><title type='text'>Ask and ye shall receive</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="www.toneybabies.blogspot.com"&gt;M&lt;/a&gt; asked me to make a more lengthy case for why the Kindle rocks, so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) CARRY YOUR WHOLE LIBRARY WITH YOU WHEREVER YOU GO!  For non-bibliophiles this may not seem like  a big deal, but if you're a book whore like me you know that sometimes you just have to, have to, have to re-read Chapter 4 of your favorite book when you're on the bus/in an airport/at work/somewhere not home where you favorite book happens to live.  With a Kindle, not only can you read that chapter (or the whole book) anywhere you want, but even if you didn't bother to download it before you left home that day you can run to Amazon (or a wide variety of other eBook retailers) and buy it no matter where you are.  Well, no matter where you are in the continental U.S.  International Kindle book buying requires a few more steps and access to a computer, but that detail won't matter to most American readers.  The added bonus for those who travel frequently is that you don't have to pack a ton of books or be left with nothing but the in-flight magazine to read if you run out of reading material.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) E-INK TECHNOLOGY!  This really is see-to-believe stuff.  Reading a Kindle or other e-book reader is no different from reading a paper book in terms of eye strain.  The e-ink technology isn't anything like a computer screen, so even if staring at a monitor for hours on end isn't your thing, it should be a non-issue with a Kindle.  You can only buy Kindles through Amazon, but Target carries the Sony 505 Reader and should have one on display if you're interested to see e-ink in action.  It's very cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) MAC COMPATIBILITY!  Frankly, I probably would have bought a Sony 505 if it had only been compatible with my beloved iBook.  Sadly, Sony's readers (which are cheaper than the Kindle, though you can't download books onto them without the help of a computer) only work with Windows.  I love my Mac, I will always love my Mac, so the Kindle was my best eReader option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) CHEAP(ER) BOOKS (MOSTLY)!  There's a lot of debate in the e-Reader community (yes, I'm a member of the e-Reader community now, yes Juan has mocked me for it) about the price of ebooks.  Frankly, they're not much lower than the price of most paperbacks, and in some cases the price of the ebook is actually higher than you'd pay with a discount card at, say, Barnes &amp; Noble.  Still, if you shop smart you can still usually pay significantly less for your ebooks than you would for the paper versions.  When you're plunking down $$$ for the reader in the first place, it's nice to know that eventually you'll make up the cost in book savings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) REDESIGN!  The original Kindle still has a lot of fans--people love how distinctive it looks, how you can expand your book collection by using an SD card (not available with the Kindle 2), etc...  The Kindle 2, however, which I have, is an improvement on the Kindle 1 in several ways.  The most significant from a regular user point of view is the fact that it's now very difficult to accidentally turn the page because Amazon redesigned the page turn buttons.  Turning pages on purpose requires next to no thought, but you aren't going to accidentally flip through several chapters and lose your place the way you could with the Kindle 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) ANNOTATION, BOOKMARKING, TEXT-TO-SPEECH, ETC...!  Just like with a paper book you can make margin notes with a Kindle (you can't with any of Sony's readers), you can bookmark several spots in a book, and unlike a paper book the Kindle will read your books TO you if you choose.  This last feature is very controversial and may eventually be phased out because of copyright/legal issues, but for now you can use it on most ebooks.  Given that the price of audiobooks is hideously high, text-to-speech technology rocks since the cost is just that of the ebook itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) DID I MENTION PRETTY?!  Yes, see previous post.  The Kindle is pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) LOSING SIGHT OF THE DEVICE! I've now read two average-length novels on my Kindle and can verify that, at least for me, the device doesn't prevent me from slipping into the story the way I do with paper books.  Some people argue that the white color of the Kindle makes this difficult, but so far it hasn't made a difference to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line--I love this little machine.  If you're on the fence about buying an e-Reader, I would strongly recommend checking out &lt;a href="http://www.mobileread.com/forums/"&gt;this forum&lt;/a&gt; for the scoop on a wide variety of e-Readers, including the Kindle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1292847154456320515?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1292847154456320515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1292847154456320515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1292847154456320515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1292847154456320515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/03/ask-and-ye-shall-receive.html' title='Ask and ye shall receive'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-987292811766229151</id><published>2009-03-01T18:26:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T18:32:37.940-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><title type='text'>Loooooove</title><content type='html'>If you've been wondering why I haven't been updating much lately there are two reasons.  One is that work has been crazy busy and by the time I get home at night the last thing I have mental energy for is blogging.  For that I suck, since this blog is essentially the best record of Luke's early years that I have.  If I don't post, what will I be able to look at years from now to remember this time in his life?  Bad Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second is that lately I've had a compelling incentive to put down my laptop and read instead.  Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/kindle/turing/photos/earths-biggest-selection-450px._V251249388_.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty and it's white and it almost makes me never want to buy another paper book.  Now I &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; carry around my entire library with me wherever I go!  This is basically the fulfillment of a lifelong dream.  Kindle = love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-987292811766229151?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/987292811766229151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=987292811766229151' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/987292811766229151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/987292811766229151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/03/testing.html' title='Loooooove'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5078019782187705435</id><published>2009-02-13T19:33:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T19:38:19.453-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Daycare WTF, or Why Other Parents Are Crazy</title><content type='html'>Luke's class at daycare exchanged Valentines today which, whatever. They're all under age 2--like they have any clue what a holiday is in the first place, much less one like Valentine's Day. I still went out and bought some cute Pooh and Tigger valentines, filled them out, and sent them in with him this morning. Imagine my surprise when he came home with a bag FULL of cards that fell into one of the following three categories:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fancy schmancy homemade cards complete with google eyes (hello, choking hazard) and glitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cards attached to candies a toddler shouldn't be eating (like suckers and conversation hearts) even if you're the type to give your toddler candy in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-store bought cards from parents like me who clearly don't feel the need to be an overachiever for a toddler Valentine's Day party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, but WTF is with two-thirds of these parents? I can see making homemade cards if you're into scrapbooking and have some free time on your hands, but who doesn't realize that the crap you're gluing on said card could choke one of the recipients? The hard candies I just don't get. We don't let Luke eat candy at all, but it really worries me that some of these parents apparently think that a Blow Pop is an appropriate treat for an 18 month old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully his teachers gave out nice age-appropriate cards that included every toddler's favorite thing in the whole wide world, stickers.  Still, I can't quite wrap my brain around these other parents.  WTF, moms and dads?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5078019782187705435?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5078019782187705435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5078019782187705435' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5078019782187705435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5078019782187705435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/02/daycare-wtf-or-why-other-parents-are.html' title='Daycare WTF, or Why Other Parents Are Crazy'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8734465924693836</id><published>2009-02-08T20:19:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T20:29:33.873-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>No, David!</title><content type='html'>Last week Luke discovered one of the few picture books I bought (and lugged around from dorm to apartment to apartment to apartment) during college.  &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/No-David/Shannon/e/9780590930024/?itm=1"&gt;No, David!&lt;/a&gt;, in case you've never read it, is based on a series of pictures the author drew at age 5 depicting him doing various naughty things while his mother told him "No!"  I thought it was hilarious the first time I read it, and now that Luke's discovered it he's decided it's the only book he wants to read at naptime and bedtime.  The pictures are...interesting (Juan thinks David looks demonic) but I think the real draw for our son is the text.  Luke, like all toddlers, is very interested in doing things himself and the fact that he can "read" almost the whole book delights him.  Every turn of the page results in a hearty, "No, David!" from Luke, followed by giggles.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As passionate as I am about books, I can't say how happy I am to see Luke taking real joy in books.  I really don't even care what books he loves, as long as he keeps loving them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8734465924693836?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8734465924693836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8734465924693836' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8734465924693836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8734465924693836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/02/no-david.html' title='No, David!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1230800384655020257</id><published>2009-01-31T18:00:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T18:16:56.712-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><title type='text'>A Hefty Dose of Reality</title><content type='html'>This afternoon I hosted a baby shower for a dear friend who's about to have her second child.  Most of the invitees (including the mom-to-be) have kids around Luke's age, so the shower morphed into a playdate involving 9 adults and 6 kids under 3.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather than get into all the messy details, let's just say that my house is covered in stickers, there are mysterious stains on the living room rug, my TV has sticky fingerprints all over it, and Luke went to bed half an hour early because he was so exhausted from all the activity.  If this is what it's like to have a big family, I am officially ruling out more than one kid after Luke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1230800384655020257?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1230800384655020257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1230800384655020257' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1230800384655020257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1230800384655020257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/01/hefty-dose-of-reality.html' title='A Hefty Dose of Reality'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3657306305782347183</id><published>2009-01-28T20:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T20:50:36.395-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><title type='text'>Things that are new</title><content type='html'>I keep meaning to update my blog, if only so I'll be able to look back at it years from now and remember what Luke did a X years and months old.  Then I get distracted by grading, eating, or (more often) trashy TV and blogging just gets pushed to the back of my "To Do" list for yet another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not tonight, though.  Tonight, I blog because there are just too many cute new things Luke is doing right now for me to put this entry off any longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cute Thing the First:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke is learning new words and phrases every day (really, today's was--"yellow ball, blue ball" complete with pointing at balls that were, in fact, yellow and blue) but the cutest by far lately has been "um".  I've tried getting him to say it on camera and he gets too interested in the camcorder to focus on anything else, so you'll just need to take my word for it that, in between half-real words and half-nonsensical babble, he now punctuates almost every sentence with "um".  The other night he was getting impatient with how slowly I was turning the pages on his bedtime book and started saying, "Um, um, um" while pointing at the next page as if to say, "Um, not to be rude Mom, but can we speed this up?"  CUTE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cute Thing the Second:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with "um" Luke has picked up shrugging.  I'm sure another kid at daycare does it and Luke is just succumbing to toddler peer pressure, but OMG the cute!  The best part is that while he does plenty of just-because shrugging, he's also frequently using it in the correct context.  This morning we asked him if he wanted to eat another bite of waffles, he shrugged, said "Um" and babbled for a minute before shoving a piece in his mouth.  CUTE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cute Thing the Third:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke loves to talk on the phone.  Absolutely loves it.  It started last month when Juan was working long hours and wouldn't see Luke at all Monday-Friday.  It was hard on all of us to have him gone so much, and our nightly phone call with Daddy became something Luke really looked forward to.  He wouldn't just listen to Juan talk, either.  Oh no, my son monopolized the conversation with his own very elaborate (nonsensical) stories.  We now talk to Grandma and Grandpa on the phone, Mama on the phone (when I'm the one working late), and of course, Elmo on the phone.  Or at least that's who Luke says he's talking to when he picks up one of his toy phones (or toys that kind of look like phones) and starts talking.  He even says, "Hello?" when he puts it up to his ear.  CUTE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cute Thing the Fourth:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wouldn't think that Luke's picky eating would be cute, but it is.  Don't get me wrong, it drives me nuts, but some of his finickiness is just hysterical.  Take pizza.  If you call it pizza, he won't touch it.  Call it "bread with sauce" and he'll eat as much as you'll give him.  That's when he's not insisting that it's really "pa-tah" (pasta).  CUTE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on, but I have to save something for my next entry, don't I?  So I'll leave you with a picture of the (do I need to say it?) cute boy from Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8Q5McsFSI/AAAAAAAAEy4/g4a2aA7cLWI/s640/DSC03061.JPG"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3657306305782347183?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3657306305782347183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3657306305782347183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3657306305782347183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3657306305782347183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-that-are-new.html' title='Things that are new'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8Q5McsFSI/AAAAAAAAEy4/g4a2aA7cLWI/s72-c/DSC03061.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3904930321076340918</id><published>2009-01-03T17:03:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T17:23:27.322-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Home Again</title><content type='html'>Juan's grandmother passed away the day after Christmas, so we packed up and spent the last week in Idaho.  It was good to see everyone and to share stories about Granny, and having Luke there certainly helped to lift my in-laws' spirits.  Luke, naturally, had a ball being the center of attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, in order to get to Idaho we had to fly through Salt Lake City (and were stranded their for an extra day due to plane problems) and ended up going out to dinner at a popular local Mexican restaurant.  Trust me, the irony of going to eat Mexican food in Utah considering that we live in El Paso wasn't lost on either of us, but this place actually makes pretty decent food.  As I am wont to do, I ordered a margarita with dinner and was a bit gobsmacked when, instead of asking for my ID, the waiter asked "would you like that with or without alcohol?"  Clearly, some things in Utah never change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're home again now and just readjusting to our semi-normal routine before returning to work on Monday.  This vacation didn't feel long enough by half.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3904930321076340918?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3904930321076340918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3904930321076340918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3904930321076340918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3904930321076340918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2009/01/home-again.html' title='Home Again'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1319083747387346338</id><published>2008-12-28T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T21:34:26.896-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Just in time for the new year I've finally gotten around to updating my blogroll.  Check it out--there are some great new blogs there, plus I've removed links to the blogs that have gone defunct in the last 6 months.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all had a very merry Christmas and that there's a happy new year in your future!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1319083747387346338?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1319083747387346338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1319083747387346338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1319083747387346338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1319083747387346338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7767542580844568133</id><published>2008-12-22T18:13:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T18:18:45.377-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Korea'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Korea</title><content type='html'>We're going to do it, we're moving to South Korea.  Six months from now military movers will box up all our stuff, put it on a boat, and we'll pick it up in Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sort of can't believe it.  We've done nothing but talk about this move since we first learned it was a possibility late last week, but it still hasn't quite sunk in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't really excited.  I'm the type of person who would &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; up and move overseas on her own, but if the last five years have taught me anything it's that change is a good thing.  Yes, it's frightening, and yes there are things I will desperately miss about the States, but ultimately I really believe that this will be an amazing experience we'll be grateful to have in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More as we find out exactly what  we need to do in preparation for the move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7767542580844568133?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7767542580844568133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7767542580844568133' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7767542580844568133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7767542580844568133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/korea.html' title='Korea'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7193523007410471133</id><published>2008-12-21T10:38:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T10:45:02.658-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>Sure to be the first of many such posts</title><content type='html'>One of the best things about having a newly verbal toddler is that I now get at least a few clues as to what he's thinking about as he falls asleep at naptime.  Today's Thought of the Day by Luke (overheard via baby monitor) is thus:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mama, Daddy, baby, towel, Elmo.  Mine mine mine gahsh... kitties...(singing)...hey dat da kitties...(banging on the bars of his crib)...mine mine mine mine mine Elmo...(more banging)...no mine no mine MINE bo bo bo bo Elmo...a dis?  Dis?  Ahhhhhhhh...Ball, ball, BAAAAALLLLLLL...zzzzzzzz."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7193523007410471133?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7193523007410471133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7193523007410471133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7193523007410471133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7193523007410471133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/sure-to-be-first-of-many-such-posts.html' title='Sure to be the first of many such posts'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6468169034919829827</id><published>2008-12-19T21:09:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T06:39:05.159-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Too Many Thoughts in My Head</title><content type='html'>Juan didn't get the fellowship slot he'd been virtually guaranteed just a month ago by People In The Know.  As a result we've spent the last 48 hours scrambling to put together a list of bases we wouldn't hate for the next year or two until he can re-apply.  Staying in El Paso is a possibility, but the job he would need to take here would be 90% paperwork to 10% actual medicine.  Not only would he likely be miserable if he took it, but he'd be deployable.  Neither of us wants that.  Most of the other positions at the top of our list (hospitals in the DC area, San Antonio, and Washington State) would be similar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's Korea.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would be working in a hospital and practicing actual medicine, he wouldn't get deployed, Luke and I would be able to go with him.  To Korea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what I want at this point.  Well, I take that back, I want our original "guaranteed" plan back.  That's not going to happen, though, which leaves us with a number of less-than-ideal options.  Korea is at both the top and bottom of that list.  On the one hand, it would be an amazing opportunity for all of us to live overseas.  On the other, we'd be gone for two years in a country so far away that coming home even once might not be financially possible.  Plus I'd almost certainly have to give up teaching until we got back to the States.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I don't know what we're going to do.  If we decide about Korea (and we need to decide soon--like before Christmas) then we'll have a set plan in place as soon as the decision is made.  If not, we won't know where we'll be going until February at the earliest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6468169034919829827?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6468169034919829827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6468169034919829827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6468169034919829827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6468169034919829827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/too-many-thoughts-in-my-head.html' title='Too Many Thoughts in My Head'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3616641973266326739</id><published>2008-12-12T20:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T20:58:21.253-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><title type='text'>Quirk</title><content type='html'>More memes!  I was tagged for this one by &lt;a href="http://bunkerville.blogspot.com/"&gt;MJ&lt;/a&gt; which seems quite appropriate since I'm one of the friends who nicknamed her "Quirk" back in high school and the subject of the meme is (what else?) quirks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case anyone is wondering, my nickname in high school was A Loof.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on with the meme!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Six of C's Quirks&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I hate to talk on the phone.  I don't know how quirky this really is since it seems like I know an increasingly large number of people who would rather drive large metal spikes into their eardrums than talk on the phone (I blame the internet) but unless you're my parents, you're twenty times more likely to receive an e-mail from me than a phone call.  There's just so much pressure on the phone to find interesting things to talk about, versus e-mail where you can ramble on for paragraphs and either go back before hitting the "send" button and delete everything or send it all and rest assured that the recipient will just skim for the good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I have no problem discussing how Macbeth and Harvey Dent (from "The Dark Knight") are remarkably similar characters with my students.  In fact, I've had lengthy discussions on the subject with my second period in the last week, and while it may seem like we're goofing off on the surface, I have elaborate character development maps all over the board by the end of those discussions to prove that not only are they both tragic heroes, but that the Batman franchise nails the archetype far more often than Shakespeare ever did.  If I can talk about superhero movies and Shakespeare at the same time AND finally get my students to understand the tragic hero, I consider it a good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) If I have M&amp;Ms, I can't just eat them one at a time, I have to eat two so they're even in my mouth--one on each side as I bite down.  Same thing with baby carrots, olives, and pretty much anything else bite-sized.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I don't like breakfast food unless it's relatively bland.  Sausage?  No way.  Bacon?  HATE.  Plain toast?  Now you're talking.  Lunch and dinner, bring on the strong-tasting food, but leave my palate alone before noon OR ELSE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I watch TV out of the corner of my eye.  I've done this for the longest time (and if you've been to my house, our family room arrangement might suddenly make sense now that you know this fact about me) and while it's probably partly because I have mild astigmatism, mostly it's just because I find the TV itself is rarely engrossing enough to keep my full attention so I'm always doing something else while watching TV.  I'll knit, I'll cross-stitch, I'll play online (sometimes while also knitting or cross-stitching) and watch TV at the same time, just out of the corner of my eye.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I don't understand the appeal of "30 Rock."  I've tried, I really have, but I just find it contrived and too cute for its own good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3616641973266326739?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3616641973266326739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3616641973266326739' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3616641973266326739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3616641973266326739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/quirk.html' title='Quirk'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7255839937139638335</id><published>2008-12-10T20:58:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:13:38.418-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Six Things That Make Me Happy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.toneystories.blogspot.com/"&gt;M&lt;/a&gt; tagged me for this meme and specifically asked for Luke pictures, so here goes--six things that make me happy, a photo essay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) This face:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8RInQrz3I/AAAAAAAAEzM/ivHx49KidMI/s640/DSC03065.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loved mostly because it's simultaneously his "yummy" face and the face he makes when you ask for a kiss.  My boy gives kisses!  It's really all I can do not to ask for them every five minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) This face:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/STFXBBmZYPI/AAAAAAAAEuM/pb8op08aMwM/s640/DSC03038.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just look at him!  Coloring (brief moments of marking the page in between attempts to eat the crayon) and smiling so sweetly it makes my heart melt.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Not Luke, but I have to brag about my AP students for a moment.  They're just the best group of kids I've ever had the privilege to work with, and I'm particularly proud of the boy who transferred in halfway through the semester and has already surpassed most of his classmates in terms of writing ability.  He's going to pass the big test in May, I can feel it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) My family:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8cc28b3127cce98548a611c0c00000046100IbtXLdqzbsc"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Dancing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/STFUpLWP1eI/AAAAAAAAEsY/pxEjCcXchJw/s640/DSC03000.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is unfortunately the best picture I have of Luke dancing.  Anytime music comes on the radio (or from one of his toys) Luke dances by shaking his hips.  It's simply adorable, and the fact that we have yet to catch it on camera is criminal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) January 20, 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/STFX2e6ZO2I/AAAAAAAAEvU/CAVLV6gsZ3I/s640/DSC03055.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't come soon enough, my friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7255839937139638335?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7255839937139638335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7255839937139638335' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7255839937139638335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7255839937139638335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/six-things-that-make-me-happy.html' title='Six Things That Make Me Happy'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8RInQrz3I/AAAAAAAAEzM/ivHx49KidMI/s72-c/DSC03065.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8941282038646247971</id><published>2008-12-09T17:33:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:49:22.286-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>Cause and Effect</title><content type='html'>So Luke decided today that he no longer hates green beans, in fact, he appears to love them so much that he's been saying "bean!" all evening.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhibit A:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8REtNidgI/AAAAAAAAEzI/XVR3JrAXC0o/s640/DSC03064.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he's learned another word that, if nothing else, tells me that he's truly a boy.  "Caca" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't get into Exhibit B because, well, no one wants to see that, but suffice it to say, he's using the word in the appropriate context.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8941282038646247971?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8941282038646247971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8941282038646247971' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8941282038646247971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8941282038646247971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/cause-and-effect.html' title='Cause and Effect'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/ST8REtNidgI/AAAAAAAAEzI/XVR3JrAXC0o/s72-c/DSC03064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-9076762529249642082</id><published>2008-12-07T09:01:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T09:05:32.323-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>Language Explosion</title><content type='html'>I must say, it's one thing to read in all the baby and toddler books that at some point your child will suddenly start acquiring several new words a day, but it's another thing entirely to witness it.  Since our vacation over Thanksgiving, Luke has learned more new words than I can count, and is coming up with new ones every time I turn around.  There's no rhyme or reason to the ones he's learning (for example, "down" still eludes him, but "up" and "eyebrow" are current favorites) but tantrums are WAY down around here since he can communicate the basics of what he wants/needs most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this age, I really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-9076762529249642082?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/9076762529249642082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=9076762529249642082' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9076762529249642082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9076762529249642082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/12/language-explosion.html' title='Language Explosion'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8169625522595193820</id><published>2008-11-30T20:07:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T20:09:55.795-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Winner</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://docs.google.com/File?id=dfjdnwhx_1dt7md4hm_b"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did it.  I spent 30 days writing a novel and I finished it tonight, just hours before the deadline.  Over 50,000 words (which translates to roughly 200 pages, give or take depending on spacing and font size) that, if nothing else, proved to me that not only could I start a novel, I could finish it.  It's complete crap, of course, but with some major editing I think it could turn into something I'm really and truly proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now off to celebrate my achievement!  Wine and peanut butter pretzels for everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8169625522595193820?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8169625522595193820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8169625522595193820' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8169625522595193820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8169625522595193820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/11/winner.html' title='Winner'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8588425262288146591</id><published>2008-11-24T03:36:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T03:50:42.877-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Just to be very clear about this</title><content type='html'>1993--C babysits by herself for the first time, &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/08/more-on-bad-things-happening-when-c.html"&gt;the microwave explodes&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1997--C is left home alone over the weekend for the first time, gets in her one and only car accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1998--C is left home alone over the weekend for the second time, the car survives but she is evacuated by a SWAT team because the crazy neighbors started threatening one another with guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2005--C is left home (albeit only for the day--I debate lumping this story in with the others because Juan was just at the library studying) and the building across the street from the condo catches fire and burns almost to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008--C is left home alone with Luke over two consecutive weekends and manages to not only have her car battery unexpectedly die in a Wal-Mart parking lot, BUT, almost loses three years worth of pictures, music, lessons, and &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/holy-crap-im-writing-novel.html"&gt;OH YEAH THAT NANO THING&lt;/a&gt; when the baby dumps an entire cup of coffee all over her laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I don't have a good track record when it comes to staying home by myself.  Thankfully (for today, at least) the laptop started working again when it had been dried out and cleaned up a bit, and all the data I needed on it has now been backed up several different places just in case it's waiting until the next time I'm alone to off itself in a more permanent way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8588425262288146591?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8588425262288146591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8588425262288146591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8588425262288146591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8588425262288146591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/11/just-to-be-very-clear-about-this.html' title='Just to be very clear about this'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8675470950681414301</id><published>2008-11-15T18:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T18:42:17.762-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>Sick Day--part eleven million</title><content type='html'>The only silver lining about being home solo this weekend with a sick and teething baby?  The look of absolute joy on his face at dinner tonight when Daddy called to to talk to him.  You'd have thought the room was exploding with puppies and balloons, he was so happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8675470950681414301?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8675470950681414301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8675470950681414301' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8675470950681414301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8675470950681414301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/11/sick-day-part-eleven-million.html' title='Sick Day--part eleven million'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7528646533325165840</id><published>2008-11-06T21:16:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T21:22:51.456-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><title type='text'>NaNoWriMo Update</title><content type='html'>So far I'm doing fairly well with NaNoWriMo.  I decided to write a murder mystery that's been kicking around my head for a few years now and it's coming along nicely.  I've introduced my main characters, written far too much exposition, and just killed my first victim.  Life is good.  I'm also mostly keeping up with the 1667-words-a-day requirement to ensure that I make it to 50,000 words by November 30. Here's a cool widget from NaNoWriMo to show you how I'm doing--the green days are the ones where I made the daily goal, the red ones where I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/MyMonth/427605.png"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So not perfect, but on track as of yesterday and today.  Keep sending the writing vibes--they're working!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7528646533325165840?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7528646533325165840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7528646533325165840' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7528646533325165840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7528646533325165840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/11/nanowrimo-update.html' title='NaNoWriMo Update'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5515642923815095575</id><published>2008-11-04T21:08:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T21:11:46.937-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><title type='text'>Yes we can!</title><content type='html'>I may be sick as a dog, hacking up a lung, and going on very little sleep after tossing and turning all last night thinking about the election today; but DAMN if I haven't done some jumping up and down tonight.  Yes we CAN move this country in a more positive direction, yes we CAN let go of bitter partisan politics, yes we CAN break down the color barrier, and yes we CAN once again hold our heads up high in the world and be proud to call ourselves Americans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5515642923815095575?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5515642923815095575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5515642923815095575' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5515642923815095575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5515642923815095575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/11/yes-we-can.html' title='Yes we can!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6179182482431378842</id><published>2008-10-31T14:53:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T14:54:52.175-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>Happy Halloween!</title><content type='html'>Happy Halloween from Luke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/SQSKtPP-cCI/AAAAAAAAEp4/RVwcB-GQR3k/s512/DSC02980.JPG"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aka, the Cutest Little Ninja North of the Rio Grande&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6179182482431378842?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6179182482431378842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6179182482431378842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6179182482431378842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6179182482431378842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_DIWg2Ta5gCw/SQSKtPP-cCI/AAAAAAAAEp4/RVwcB-GQR3k/s72-c/DSC02980.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4225440375454310506</id><published>2008-10-29T19:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:33:30.604-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><title type='text'>Holy Crap, I'm Writing a Novel</title><content type='html'>In a burst of "Gee, C, you don't have enough on your plate right now, let's add something new" I signed up for NaNoWriMo, otherwise known as National Novel Writing Month.  From November 1-30 I'll be attempting to write 1600+ words a day to make it to an eventual goal of 50,000 words and one completed book.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*gulp*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also trying to get some of my more ambitious students involved by offering a full letter grade bump to anyone who manages to finish with 50,000 words.  We'll see if anyone takes me up on the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So wish me luck!  I'll post a few updates now and then about how it's going (hopefully well) and maybe an excerpt or two if it goes VERY well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4225440375454310506?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4225440375454310506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4225440375454310506' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4225440375454310506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4225440375454310506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/holy-crap-im-writing-novel.html' title='Holy Crap, I&apos;m Writing a Novel'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3407668861254030462</id><published>2008-10-27T18:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T19:07:13.986-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><title type='text'>They put something in the water</title><content type='html'>Recently Luke decided he was completely and totally obsessed with Elmo.  The child hasn't so much as seen an episode of Sesame Street (or Elmo's World) since he was last with our old nanny last spring, yet somehow he not only knows who Elmo is, but he LOVES him.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juan and I were rather taken aback when Luke started screaming for his one Elmo doll (given to him by said nanny for Christmas last year and promptly ignored for the following 10 months) earlier this month.  Where did he learn Elmo's name?  We frankly couldn't figure it out since there isn't a TV in his daycare center and we have a fairly strict no TV rule when Luke is awake.  They do read Elmo books once in awhile at daycare, but Luke reads a lot of books.  He reads books about doggies, books about steam shovels named Mary Ann, books about pigs who sing, and yet none of these books have caused him to go around the house shouting character names at the top of his lungs.  Ask him who he loves, though, and he'll be only too happy to tell you, "ELMO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess, there's part of me that really and truly dislikes this development.  I don't want my toddler obsessed with branded characters.  I want him to play with a variety of toys and remain blissfully unaware of the Elmo/Dora/Diego/whatever marketing machine until he's at least able to poop on the potty.  Still, I can't help but smile at the look of pure joy on his face when he cuddles his Elmo dolls (yes, we bought him another one) because he just doesn't get that look on his face for anything else.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear to God, Sesame Street puts something in the water, because there's just no other way to explain how fascinated toddlers (particularly mine) are with Elmo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3407668861254030462?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3407668861254030462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3407668861254030462' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3407668861254030462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3407668861254030462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/they-put-something-in-water.html' title='They put something in the water'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4984899620124912789</id><published>2008-10-08T20:50:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:58:35.639-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home(s)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>We're doing this again?  Seriously?</title><content type='html'>Tonight we signed the papers to list our house for sale.  Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though it's been three years, it still feels like &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/01/open-house.html"&gt;we just did this&lt;/a&gt; and the thought of keeping the house spotlessly clean 24/7, having random realtors ring our bell at odd hours, and experiencing the frustration of showing after showing that doesn't result in an offer leaves me rather cold.  I. Don't. Want. To. Sell. My. House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not even that I'm resisting the move as much as I'm resisting all the crap we have to do in order to get to the place where we &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; move.  Selling the house is really just the tip of the iceberg, and this listing means getting the ball rolling on things like quitting my job, finding a new one, renting a new house, etc...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm once again soliciting good house selling thoughts.  In this market, we're really going to need them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4984899620124912789?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4984899620124912789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4984899620124912789' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4984899620124912789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4984899620124912789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/were-doing-this-again-seriously.html' title='We&apos;re doing this again?  Seriously?'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1582919410759546067</id><published>2008-10-03T17:32:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T17:58:33.359-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>C and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day</title><content type='html'>1:00 AM:  I wake up, WIDE AWAKE with a throbbing sinus headache&lt;br /&gt;3:00 AM:  Still awake&lt;br /&gt;4:00 AM:  Still awake&lt;br /&gt;5:00 AM:  Drift off&lt;br /&gt;5:45 AM:  Alarm rings, time to get up&lt;br /&gt;6:00 AM:  Luke starts crying, get him from his crib, somehow manage to smear poop all over one of my hands during diaper changing.&lt;br /&gt;7:20 AM:  Finally get out of the door, ridiculously late&lt;br /&gt;7:30 AM:  Drop Luke off at daycare, he screams bloody murder when I go to leave.  Worst  dropoff we've had in over a month, I feel horrible and worry that he's getting sick again.&lt;br /&gt;8:10 AM:  Finally get to work and find a line of students already forming outside my door because (of course) today is the last day for them to turn in late work before I have to hand in progress report grades.&lt;br /&gt;8:20 AM:  The first bell rings, I realize I forgot to put on deodorant and socks today.&lt;br /&gt;8:55 AM:  Finally get the students working independently so I can turn my attention to the piles of papers that have magically appeared on this, the last day to turn them in.  &lt;br /&gt;8:56 AM:  My computer dies.  Really dies.  Blue Screen of Death Dies.  &lt;br /&gt;8:58 AM:  IT says to bring it down but they aren't making any promises.  Also, I can't have a loaner computer to finish my grading.  Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;9:00 AM:  My headache returns with a vengeance.&lt;br /&gt;9:15 AM:  I call Juan (who's working nights and is thus home, sleeping) and beg him to bring my laptop from home to school so I can enter grades.  He got no sleep the night before and doesn't think he's safe to drive.  Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;11:30 AM:  I get my BFF to cover my study hall so I can leap in the car and race home to get the laptop&lt;br /&gt;12:15 PM:  Get halfway back to school with the computer before I realize I forgot the power cord on the kitchen counter.  My battery can last around 30 minutes at this point without needing to be plugged in, so I've just made this trip for, essentially, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;12:17 PM:  My head really hurts&lt;br /&gt;12:30 PM:  Get back to campus, inhale some lunch, greet my next class&lt;br /&gt;1:10 PM:  My laptop, predictably, dies.&lt;br /&gt;1:15 PM:  A student asks if I'm okay.  I seriously consider bursting into tears but decide against it.&lt;br /&gt;2:00 PM:  Dismiss my last class, run to the library (tailed by half a dozen students wanting help with late homework) to log onto one of their computers so I can finish grading.  Also hoping for some leftover pot luck chocolate cake and/or Diet Coke to make myself feel better.&lt;br /&gt;2:03 PM:  No cake, no Coke.  No librarian (who I love and wanted to vent to) since she left early.  I should have left early today too.&lt;br /&gt;4:00 PM: The final bell rings, I'm maybe a third of the way through my stacks of papers.  Realize I'm going to have to come in over the weekend.  &lt;br /&gt;4:30 PM:  Kick the last of my students out of the library, close up, head home.&lt;br /&gt;4:35 PM:  My head REALLY hurts.&lt;br /&gt;5:00 PM:  Get home.  Luke screams and bursts into tears the second he sees me since he knows that Mama coming home = Daddy leaving soon.&lt;br /&gt;5:20 PM:  Luke stops tantruming.&lt;br /&gt;5:23 PM:  Juan gets up to leave, Luke starts crying again.&lt;br /&gt;5:30 PM:  My head--in case you were wondering--HURTS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1582919410759546067?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1582919410759546067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1582919410759546067' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1582919410759546067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1582919410759546067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/10/c-and-terrible-horrible-no-good-very.html' title='C and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1849539680332483715</id><published>2008-09-28T19:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:09:38.438-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the other kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Six Random Things</title><content type='html'>M over at Toneybabies tagged me for a meme (and my husband kindly reminded me to actually write it) detailing six random things about myself.  So, without further ado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I love Stephanie Meyer's &lt;i&gt;Twilight&lt;/i&gt; series, but I will hunt down and kill anyone who reveals this fact to my students or coworkers.  I have a certain amount of street cred to uphold as an English teacher, which means I live a literary double life on school days.  Shhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I will be very disappointed if my former classmates drop the ball and decide not to hold a 10 year high school reunion this summer.  While I do keep in close touch with most of my good friends from high school there are a few people I've lost track of and I'd love to see them again.  I'm also morbidly curious about how certain people I wasn't exactly fond of back then have turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) All of the artwork on my walls is from Target.  That fact ought to embarrass me, but strangely enough it doesn't.  That's how much I love Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) We're planning to put our house on the market this week and (unsurprisingly) I'm pretty depressed about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Work drama is insane right now and one of the reasons I haven't been posting much is that I know I can't discuss it here.  Suffice it to say, the first 5 weeks of my final year at this school have been more eventful than the last two years put together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) One of my worst housekeeping habits is that I leave my shoes EVERYWHERE.  It's driven Juan crazy for years (generally because he tends to trip over them) but nothing has made me change my ways until now.  See, lately Luke has declared himself the house shoe police, and anytime he finds a pair of my shoes lying around the living room/kitchen/TV room/any other room you can think of he picks them up and follows me around with them until I put them on.  Thus, after repeatedly donning peep-toe pumps while wearing ratty sweats and ballet flats with my pajamas I've decided to be a grown up and put my shoes away in the closet every night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1849539680332483715?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1849539680332483715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1849539680332483715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1849539680332483715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1849539680332483715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/09/six-random-things.html' title='Six Random Things'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7074973355672710807</id><published>2008-09-08T18:56:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T19:07:37.280-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weight Watchers'/><title type='text'>Red letter day</title><content type='html'>Today was my weigh-in day for Weight Watchers and I honestly expected the worst.  I slacked a bit on the old diet towards the end of the week (damn our school librarian and her tasty, tasty Friday pot luck luncheons!) and wouldn't have been surprised to see a weight gain.  Instead?  SIX POUNDS LOST.  SIX.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*jaw drops*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm now down 20 lbs from the weight I was at when I started Weight Watchers back in July.  I weigh two pounds less than I did when I got pregnant, just three pounds more than when I got married, and I'm only eight above from my high school (and target) weight.  The capris I bought back in June (which were tight at the time) can now slide down while buttoned if I'm not wearing a belt.  I can fit into work clothes I haven't even attempted to wear in four or five years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. My. God.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch out world, the new and improved C is on her way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7074973355672710807?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7074973355672710807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7074973355672710807' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7074973355672710807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7074973355672710807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/09/red-letter-day.html' title='Red letter day'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-247648602617515666</id><published>2008-09-06T07:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T08:04:45.814-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Toddlerhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='don&apos;t go into the kitchen'/><title type='text'>Hundreds of dollars worth of toys sitting in the living room</title><content type='html'>and all my child wants to play with are the half-empty cereal boxes we store on some open shelves in the kitchen.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SMKNULrP0WI/AAAAAAAADoM/1hkMon58B5U/s512/DSC02591.JPG"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-247648602617515666?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/247648602617515666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=247648602617515666' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/247648602617515666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/247648602617515666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/09/hundreds-of-dollars-worth-of-toys.html' title='Hundreds of dollars worth of toys sitting in the living room'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SMKNULrP0WI/AAAAAAAADoM/1hkMon58B5U/s72-c/DSC02591.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7856918460924899886</id><published>2008-08-27T20:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T20:35:29.809-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military life'/><title type='text'>The news</title><content type='html'>Juan didn't get the job.  We're sad, disappointed, and sadly in flux regarding future plans.  We might stay, we might go, and the decision &lt;i&gt;has&lt;/i&gt; to be made in the next three weeks.  No pressure, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all I've got right now.  It's been a bit of a rollercoaster for the last few days and I still have papers to grade tonight.  More later when there's more to tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7856918460924899886?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7856918460924899886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7856918460924899886' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7856918460924899886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7856918460924899886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/08/news.html' title='The news'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8437140298420108574</id><published>2008-08-25T18:09:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T19:22:38.103-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weight Watchers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>No news is...no news.  Also, news!</title><content type='html'>No announcement has been made yet about the Chief position.  We don't know when the word will come down (tomorrow morning at the earliest, though) or if the decision has even been made yet.  It's frustrating, but we'll deal with what comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, today was the first day back at school.  My students were great, I had a lot of fun, and we get to do it all over again tomorrow.  Yay!  Oh, and as an added bonus I get to teach a 9 week novel study class to a small group of students who all enjoy reading and discussing books.  It's a little reward for them since they passed their state competency exams last year and one for me after I taught test prep during that slot for the last two years.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I'm officially down 16 lbs since I started Weight Watchers seven weeks ago.  I honestly can't believe I've managed to lose that much so quickly.  Twelve more to go until the promised land!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8437140298420108574?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8437140298420108574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8437140298420108574' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8437140298420108574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8437140298420108574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-news-isno-news-also-news.html' title='No news is...no news.  Also, news!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2417701581113622544</id><published>2008-08-17T20:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T20:56:49.890-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='military life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Looking Ahead</title><content type='html'>It's going to be a long week.  Tomorrow is my last day of summer before heading back to work for (possibly) my last school year here.  Being perfectly honest, I'm nervous about leaving Luke at daycare (because it's new, not because I don't trust our center) but heartbroken that this time next year there's a very good chance I won't be teaching at my current school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the last year of Juan's residency, and he's interviewing for the Chief Resident position Wednesday.  If he gets it, we'll stay until June 2010.  If he doesn't, we'll leave at the end of this school year.  The decision will be announced next Monday, which just so happens to be my first day of classes.  If he doesn't get the job have to find a realtor, cancel tentative plans to visit family over Spring Break in favor of a house-hunting trip to wherever it is we'll be heading, and I'll have to begin putting my portfolio in order so I can hit the ground running job-wise next summer.  I don't want to do any of those things.  I want to play with my baby, go shopping with my friends, and know I have time to start building up a stronger AP program at my school because I'm going to be there to see those plans come to fruition.  In short, I want to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you have any spare "good luck" thoughts/prayers floating around, please send them Juan's way this week.  There's a lot more riding on the panel's decision about who will become Chief than just his job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2417701581113622544?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2417701581113622544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2417701581113622544' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2417701581113622544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2417701581113622544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/08/looking-ahead.html' title='Looking Ahead'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7553185715212434796</id><published>2008-08-14T06:52:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T08:13:11.279-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy!</title><content type='html'>I can't believe you're a year old already.  As cliche as it is, the last year has just flown by and all of a sudden my little baby has become a walking, talking toddler.  I tell you all the time that you're not allowed to get any bigger, but you don't listen and frankly I don't really want you to.  Watching you explore the world and learn how to relate to it has been the highlight of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/martinezross/SKJI9wZkK8I/AAAAAAAAAyk/UNOvxhUGisM/DSC00353.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You love books, your sippy cup, and all animals.  Everything is a doggy to you right now, except your beloved rubber ducks who you invariably refer to as "ducky!" You're the most amazingly tactile kid I've ever met--you won't put much in your mouth (even food some days) but you need to touch EVERYTHING you see.  Textures fascinate you, and I can't wait until you're a bit older and I can introduce you to modeling clay, finger paints, and paper mache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SKI8msAdqyI/AAAAAAAADk0/TzlYt7MFD6w/DSC02739.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer has been chock full of disruptions, from Daddy and I leaving you with Grandma and Grandpa for the first time ever while we went to Greece, to you and me going to visit them for three weeks last month.  I worried, as I am wont to do, that you wouldn't deal well with all the changes in our routine and surroundings, but you handled them all beautifully.  I continue to be amazed at how flexible you are when it comes to where you sleep and how you spend your days.  I am the furthest thing from flexible about certain things, and I hope I don't pass that trait along to you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SKI9aV5CDHI/AAAAAAAADl0/zOE6cYc_Uhk/DSC02764.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week we had your birthday party and you had only one wish for the entire day--to be allowed to play with the balloons from dawn until dusk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/martinezross/SKJGxgA1f3I/AAAAAAAAAvc/rT2bUngP1A8/DSC00307.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think you enjoyed the balloons even more than your first bite of cake with frosting, though you decided cake was pretty good after the first few tentative tastes.  By the time you decided you were finished, you were so covered with blue frosting that we had to take a break from the party to rinse you off in the wading pool.  You didn't mind much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/martinezross/SKJHo5ib-KI/AAAAAAAAAw4/nw6-pvOGoH0/DSC00328.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week school starts up for me again, and the transition is going to be rough on both of us, I fear.  We've had a wonderful little summer at home, and now you'll be starting at a real daycare for at least the next few months.  It's going to be different, but hopefully in a good way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, sweet precious boy, and I can't wait to see what the next year holds for us.  You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I'm so thankful every day that I get to call myself your Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/martinezross/SKJJa40QoJI/AAAAAAAAAzc/sIyZMu36PAo/DSC00365.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7553185715212434796?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7553185715212434796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7553185715212434796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7553185715212434796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7553185715212434796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-birthday-sweet-boy.html' title='Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/martinezross/SKJI9wZkK8I/AAAAAAAAAyk/UNOvxhUGisM/s72-c/DSC00353.JPG?imgmax=512' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5899504507216592966</id><published>2008-08-07T18:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T18:11:09.434-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>D is for...</title><content type='html'>"DUCKY!  Duuuuucky!  Ddddddducky!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know how difficult it is to work on lessons (AP lessons, no less, that I'll be delivering in less than THREE weeks) with an adorable boy talking about his new favorite animal upstairs?  It's hard.  Very hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Luke now also says "Doggy" and "Daddy" but with far less precision than "Ducky."  Every person he knows is "Daddy" and every animal except a duck is "Doggy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5899504507216592966?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5899504507216592966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5899504507216592966' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5899504507216592966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5899504507216592966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/08/d-is-for.html' title='D is for...'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4140475824932651728</id><published>2008-07-29T12:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T13:06:09.904-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weight Watchers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><title type='text'>Updatey</title><content type='html'>Many apologies for going dark--Luke and I have been living the high life with my parents in Salt Lake for the last couple of weeks and blogging (actually, all things Internet) has really gone by the wayside.  Lots of pictures to follow when we're home and I have access to my camera cables again, but for now we'll just run down the numbers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Number of days Luke has woken up before 6:00 am:  7&lt;br /&gt;-Number of days I have woken up before 9:00 am: 2&lt;br /&gt;-Number of days my dad has gotten up at the crack of dawn to play with the baby so I can get some freaking sleep: All&lt;br /&gt;-Number of pounds I've lost since starting Weight Watchers: 9.2&lt;br /&gt;-Number of pieces of mouth watering homemade cherry pie I've refused: 47&lt;br /&gt;-Number of points in one piece of mouth watering homemade cherry pie: 9&lt;br /&gt;-Number my baby will be turning in just 13 short days: 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as you can see I've paradoxically become the queen of both sloth and willpower on this trip.  Hopefully returning to "real life" shortly will cure the former but not the latter.  Hope you're all enjoying the last few days of July!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4140475824932651728?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4140475824932651728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4140475824932651728' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4140475824932651728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4140475824932651728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/updatey.html' title='Updatey'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7758179996136010825</id><published>2008-07-14T19:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T19:35:38.746-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weight Watchers'/><title type='text'>Progress Report--Week 1</title><content type='html'>I fully expected that this entry would be full of whining about how hard it was to stick to a diet, especially since I've never tried to really watch what I eat before.  Therefore, I'm pleasantly surprised to report that staying on my Weight Watchers plan has been really, really easy.  I've eaten more fruits and vegetables in the last 7 days than I think I have in the last 7 months; realized that most of my favorite foods are still okay to eat as long as I A: don't eat them every day, and B: limit my portions; and upped my activity level.  Result?  I'm down 4 pounds from this time last week.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now obviously I'm not going to lose that much every week, but it's nice to know that this diet is really working.  My challenge this week is to keep up my good eating habits while having to eat out once a day due to a conference I'm attending.  I went over my daily "target" points today without trying at all, so I need to really buckle down if I'm going to do continue my good progress.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7758179996136010825?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7758179996136010825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7758179996136010825' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7758179996136010825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7758179996136010825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/progress-report-week-1.html' title='Progress Report--Week 1'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8318133421642957560</id><published>2008-07-09T14:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T14:42:33.718-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Rain, rain go away</title><content type='html'>Three straight days of rain.  Three straight days of MONSOON rain, almost a month before monsoon season is supposed to start.  Three straight days of being cooped up indoors because of the piss-poor drainage that's caused the main roads near us to flood.  Three straight days of grey skies and canceled activities.  Boo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8318133421642957560?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8318133421642957560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8318133421642957560' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8318133421642957560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8318133421642957560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/rain-rain-go-away.html' title='Rain, rain go away'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6290236179691103886</id><published>2008-07-07T20:17:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T20:36:37.257-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Weight Watchers'/><title type='text'>Accountability</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Scene: One year ago, C's OB/GYN's office&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. J:  I see here that you've gained [insert unspeakably high number] pounds during your pregnancy.  I'm concerned that you're going to have trouble taking them off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  Pshaw, I gained the weight, I can take it off.  How hard can it be to lose [unspeakably high number] pounds when you're running around after a baby and breastfeeding?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. J: Just so we're clear, I'm not going to answer that question for fear that you'll throw something at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  I'll be &lt;i&gt;fine&lt;/i&gt;, trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scene: Last month, in C's bathroom&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  Hmmm... I wonder what I weigh these days?  I'll just pull out the old scale and find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*steps on scale*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Silence*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  That can't be right!  I weighed this much when I was 6 months pregnant!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*thinks*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  I guess all those pints of Haagen-Daz have been adding up.  And the Pirate's Booty.  And the egg rolls.  And every other piece of crap I've shoved into my mouth without thinking about it for the last few months.  Fock.  I need to go on a diet.  Maybe I'll just try eating sensibly on my own.  I'll be &lt;i&gt;fine&lt;/i&gt; on my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scene: Last weekend&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C: Hm, wonder how that DIY diet I've been kind-of sort-of doing is coming along?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*steps on scale*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*silence*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!  Two more pounds?  What the hell???  "Fine" my ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Scene: This morning&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*type, type, type*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*type, type, type*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*type, type, type*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;C:  Okay, it's done.  I'm officially a &lt;a href="http://www.weightwatchers.com/"&gt;a Weight Watcher&lt;/a&gt;.  I wasn't "fine" gaining all the weight during my pregnancy, I wasn't "fine" trying to lose weight on my own, and I'm definitely not "fine" weighing this much.  Hopefully this works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;End Scene&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope is that by making my weight loss attempts public I'll be a bit more motivated to stick with it when the novelty of entering every bite that I take into the computer wears off.  I'm trying to lose 26 pounds by parent/teacher conferences in early November, which seems do-able all things considered.  Today was my first full day on the diet, and I was surprised at how not-hungry I've been.  A half cup of pasta with meat sauce can be surprisingly filling, and a serving of sorbet is &lt;i&gt;almost&lt;/i&gt; as good as a pint of caramel ice cream after dinner.  Baby steps.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accountability-wise, since Mondays are my official WW weigh-in days, I'm going to start posting here about my progress every Monday as well.  Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6290236179691103886?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6290236179691103886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6290236179691103886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6290236179691103886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6290236179691103886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/accountability.html' title='Accountability'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2675096748105814362</id><published>2008-07-03T15:56:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T16:02:00.726-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>The sound of evil</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://www.icecreamtrucksuperstore.com/images/TopPageLowers_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the ice cream truck.  Every afternoon at 3:30 pm it rolls through our neighborhood BLARING the pinwheel song, and every afternoon at 3:31 Luke wakes up from his afternoon nap SCREAMING at the top of his lungs because no amount of white noise can drown out the music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If he would go down for an earlier nap our problems would be solved, but alas he's steadfastly refused to go down a second earlier than 3:00 for the last month.  Other than bribing the driver to skip our street (or at least turn the music down) what other options do I have?  Homicide has come to mind, but I think that might be a bit of an overreaction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2675096748105814362?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2675096748105814362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2675096748105814362' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2675096748105814362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2675096748105814362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/sound-of-evil.html' title='The sound of evil'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6340798062148471924</id><published>2008-07-01T12:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T12:26:01.873-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>I'm sorry, were you saying something?</title><content type='html'>Because while you had your back turned, look what Luke was up to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGowLD6cowI/AAAAAAAADVI/KQEz-hfbHVU/DSC02585.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and then he did this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGowH6ClUbI/AAAAAAAADVE/CCcsSkyi2T0/DSC02584.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGowN4Y2M-I/AAAAAAAADVM/g6e1U5FhPBQ/DSC02586.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, it's not &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; walking, but considering that he's pointedly ignored the push toy since we bought it two months ago, I think of this as significant progress in that direction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6340798062148471924?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6340798062148471924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6340798062148471924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6340798062148471924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6340798062148471924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-sorry-were-you-saying-something.html' title='I&apos;m sorry, were you saying something?'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGowLD6cowI/AAAAAAAADVI/KQEz-hfbHVU/s72-c/DSC02585.JPG?imgmax=512' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8210046917980765354</id><published>2008-06-25T19:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T19:38:40.604-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Like a Fish in Water</title><content type='html'>I swear, there are days when I wonder what the heck I've been doing here for the last two years.  The city continues to surprise me with new hidden gems I never even knew existed, and today was a case in point.  Who knew the base had a free water park for kids under 4?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGLnTMTGW5I/AAAAAAAADTA/MVjp-RhAVmo/DSC00532.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention that it was &lt;i&gt;free&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke loved it once he got over his initial fear of the bigger kids who were splashing nearby.  He crawled all over the shallow end (eventually going in up to his chin before wanting to be carried around again), did some splashing himself, and generally had the time of his life.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGLnVsOqSUI/AAAAAAAADTE/UYD3BDQC3Mc/DSC00540.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGLng4Qs3xI/AAAAAAAADTU/CbKhIK88vIo/DSC00548.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is going to become a weekly ritual for us now that we know it exists.  The best part is that we have a little group of friends-with-babies who will be going with us on future excursions. Swimming fun for all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8210046917980765354?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8210046917980765354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8210046917980765354' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8210046917980765354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8210046917980765354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/06/like-fish-in-water.html' title='Like a Fish in Water'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SGLnTMTGW5I/AAAAAAAADTA/MVjp-RhAVmo/s72-c/DSC00532.JPG?imgmax=512' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6062176426954868776</id><published>2008-06-22T20:41:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T21:06:55.839-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home(s)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Open letters</title><content type='html'>Dear Newly Divorced Man Across the Street,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed this morning that you invested in some new artwork for your truck.  "I swapped my wife for a gun--it was a great deal" is both a rather bold statement to make and a great way to let your neighbors know that not only are you bitter towards your ex, but now you're also armed!  Thanks for the heads-up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;C (who really hopes you didn't go out and buy a gun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Colorblind Couple at the End of the Block,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know that your house was a lovely shade of buttercream up until last fall?  It was.  I often thought that yours was one of the prettiest homes on the street, and that was saying a lot.  We have some beautiful homes here.  Now, I don't know you personally, but I've been assuming that you both suffer from some form of colorblindness after the fateful day last November when I came home from work to discover that you had repainted your house pea green.  Not a pretty pea green (if such a color exists) either, truly the ugliest shade of 70s throwback pea green I've ever seen.  I dearly hope you're not planning to try to sell your home...ever because no matter how it looks on the inside I just can't imagine potential buyers doing anything other than screaming and running away once they catch a glimpse of the exterior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;C (who really, really hopes you're planning to re-paint soon)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Frozen in Time Neighbors,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if you got the memo, but Christmas was almost 6 months ago.  I know, feels like yesterday, doesn't it?  The thing is, the unwritten rule about holiday decorations is that they're supposed to be taken down no later than the end of January. Seeing as how one usually doesn't display 3/4 scale nativity scenes on a year-round basis, I'm going to assume that you forgot about it (and are shut-ins since it's really difficult to miss it in your front yard) or have no idea that it's actually almost July now.  Either way, I'll take the damn thing down myself if you're not going to because it's driving me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, &lt;br /&gt;C (who has limited tolerance for yard sculpture even when it's seasonally appropriate)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6062176426954868776?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6062176426954868776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6062176426954868776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6062176426954868776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6062176426954868776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/06/open-letters.html' title='Open letters'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3186284776259336414</id><published>2008-06-14T21:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T21:21:57.104-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Of updates and jet lag</title><content type='html'>Why hello there, it's been awhile!  The Internet being what it is, I didn't want to publicize the fact that Juan and I were going to be out of the country until we were back home, but we just returned from a much-needed vacation to Athens, Greece.  It was an amazing trip, but it's good to be home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates from the home front--I'm now a temporary stay-at-home-mom, and I think Luke is getting bored already.  There are only so many times the boy can crawl around the house before he gets frustrated that there aren't any other kids here to play with, so we're going to start some Gymboree classes with a friend and her daughter next week and try to find some other activities to fill up our days.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less happy news, my grandmother was officially diagnosed with esophageal cancer two weeks ago.  She begins chemo/radiation treatments tomorrow, and any good thoughts you can send her way would be very much appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, since I still kind of can't believe that we were actually in Athens this time last week, a few pictures from the trip: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SFK0Q68E69I/AAAAAAAAC6g/nzMCA-eppu4/DSC02424.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SFK00IBB9tI/AAAAAAAAC7I/MgdRd_TeHLM/DSC02433.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SFK4Lzrz00I/AAAAAAAAC-Y/eU8yoOdgpZs/DSC02479.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SFK8Tf2qzcI/AAAAAAAADCo/HhFPg2uQ8-E/DSC02537.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3186284776259336414?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3186284776259336414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3186284776259336414' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3186284776259336414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3186284776259336414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/06/of-updates-and-jet-lag.html' title='Of updates and jet lag'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/cmartinezross/SFK0Q68E69I/AAAAAAAAC6g/nzMCA-eppu4/s72-c/DSC02424.JPG?imgmax=512' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-9039010689686992469</id><published>2008-05-28T10:54:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:06:09.303-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>All good things...</title><content type='html'>Six days from now the school year will be over and I'll be a free woman for ten glorious weeks.  Summer break truly is one of the best perks we teachers get, and this time of year almost feels like vacation already because the students have taken their finals and are just doing busywork-type assignments and watching (mostly relevant) movies while we feverishly grade papers and finalize their grades.  Even though my inbox is full and I have piles of books and personal items to pack up and take home in the next few days, the overall mood is so relaxed that it's hard not to get sucked into feeling like it's summer already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it's also a sad time of year since I love my students and won't see many of them again once they graduate and move on to bigger and better things.  I've found myself tearing up in class on more than one occasion because really, these kids are amazing.  With remarkably few exceptions they're interesting, well-behaved, inquisitive young people; and while they drive me crazy on a daily basis I absolutely adore being their teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while I'm looking forward to being a pseudo-stay at home mom until the next year starts in August, I'm more than a little maudlin at the thought of saying goodbye to "my" kids next Tuesday and leaving this job I love, even for a much-needed break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-9039010689686992469?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/9039010689686992469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=9039010689686992469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9039010689686992469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9039010689686992469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/05/all-good-things.html' title='All good things...'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4475366380991328947</id><published>2008-05-16T19:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T20:39:53.623-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Roller coaster</title><content type='html'>First, please keep &lt;a href="http://shinelikestars.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kathleen&lt;/a&gt; in your thoughts.  She's very ill and needs all the good thoughts and prayers you can send.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, what a roller coaster week this has been.  Awful, awful news from every corner just keeps raining down, and I'm honestly afraid to pick up the phone when it rings because at this point I've received at least three calls in the last 24 hours that have reduced me to tears.  I don't want to talk about it right now because I'm still processing (besides which, some of the news isn't mine to share) but that post will be coming at some point in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, I've decided that a roller coaster is the perfect metaphor for the first year of parenthood.  Big shocker, right?  A: that the English teacher searches for metaphors for her life, and B: that the metaphor is an old, tired one.  Hear me out, though!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnancy is the looooooooong ride up to the top of the first drop.  You think you're never going to get there, you're nervous and excited the whole time, and then BOOM!  You drop!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(that's birth, by the way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The initial 10-15 seconds of the ride, where you're disoriented and screaming, are the first months of your baby's life.  Everything is new, you can't anticipate your next move, and you feel like you're going to fall off and/or throw up the entire time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you start getting used to the jerkiness of the ride and begin really enjoying it.  You can anticipate some of the curves, you might even have a chance to glance outside of the ride and see the water feature or popcorn stand nearby, and life is good.  Sure, you're still on a roller coaster, but it's not new and strange anymore.  Those are months four through 12.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, of course, the ride stops and you're forced to get off, shaky and dizzy, which I assume is a good analogy for moving from babyhood into the toddler years when everything changes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you can't tell from my above analysis, I'm feeling pretty confident about parenthood right about now. Life is (generally) predictable, and every once in awhile Luke makes a breakthrough that feels exactly like a lull in the ride.  Case in point, he can now put himself to sleep.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For any non-parents reading this, putting oneself to sleep is a milestone that can never come early enough.  After spending months and months nursing, rocking, singing, cajoling, and begging a baby to fall deeply enough asleep to be put down in his/her crib without waking back up again; it feels like clouds lifting and angels singing when one night you put down your baby awake (after spending WAAAAAAAY too much time on the above activities and giving up in sheer frustration) only to have him/her roll over and fall fast asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke has now put himself to sleep several nights in a row, and I am loving it. LOVING IT.  I know full well that I'm probably jinxing it by writing this, but I don't care.  Every one of these little milestones, every one of these little things that he can do on his own, feels like the roller coaster slowing down.  That doesn't mean it's stopped, or that parenthood gets easier, but it's getting more predictable.  More normal.  And that's a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4475366380991328947?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4475366380991328947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4475366380991328947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4475366380991328947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4475366380991328947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/05/roller-coaster.html' title='Roller coaster'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8734423853208845817</id><published>2008-05-11T19:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T20:15:09.892-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><title type='text'>Mother's Day: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly</title><content type='html'>My first Mother's Day was wonderful.  The three of us celebrated yesterday since Juan was working today, and Luke and I spent the "official" day together shopping, playing, and enjoying each other.  It was a great day, but a rather eventful one for a number of reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Good&lt;/b&gt;: Luke was sitting on my lap playing with a &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000I2Q0F4"&gt;stuffed toy&lt;/a&gt; and he kept pushing it at my mouth.  After three or four nosefulls of Lamaze firefly, I finally realized that he wanted me to kiss the toy.  I always make a game of having his toys kiss him (complete with big "MWAH!" sound effects) and he was mimicking me.  He's never done that before, and he started cracking up as soon as I started giving the toy kisses.  He'd put it near my mouth, I'd give it a big "MWAH!" kiss, and he'd laugh.  Then &lt;i&gt;I'd&lt;/i&gt; laugh, which would make him laugh harder, and so on and so forth.  I think it was the first time we've shared a laugh like that, and it was wonderful.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Bad&lt;/b&gt;: My grandmother isn't doing too well, and I'm really worried about her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Ugly&lt;/b&gt;: We got the green light from the pediatrician to start Luke on table foods, but I'm not sure he's ready.  We tried two different Stage 3 (meaning small chunks of soft foods mixed in with purees) foods today and he gagged and vomited on both of them.  He clearly has major issues with texture, and part of me wonders if he's just not ready yet.  The other part, of course, thinks that it's very likely that he needs to continue to try new textures (he did okay with just one or two small pieces mixed in with a more runny puree) or else he'll never get used to them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that was Mother's Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8734423853208845817?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8734423853208845817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8734423853208845817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8734423853208845817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8734423853208845817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day-good-bad-and-ugly.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5496226670333915618</id><published>2008-04-30T21:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T21:21:55.643-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>Bravo!</title><content type='html'>Luke has been learning new skills left and right this month at a pace that makes my head spin a bit when I think about everything he can do now that he couldn't just three weeks ago.  He can pull himself to standing very easily, crawl across his room in under 10 seconds, and make "T" sounds.  The one that I still can't quite believe, though, is that he's obviously starting to understand certain words and phrases we say to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His name was the first word he definitely recognized; that was a month or so ago.  "No" isn't &lt;i&gt;quite&lt;/i&gt; clicking yet (I think when he does react to it he's listening more to my tone of voice than to the actual word--to be honest I rarely had to use the word before he was mobile) but it's close.  His newest word, though, is "Bravo!"  Our Spanish-speaking nanny taught him how to clap last week, and now whenever someone says "Bravo!" to him (and he feels like it) he'll clap.  It's beyond adorable and we're trying to catch it on camera before the novelty wears off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little baby is turning into a little boy, and it's going too fast.  There are days when it seems like he'll be like this forever and others when it seems that he noticeably grew physically and cognitively overnight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5496226670333915618?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5496226670333915618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5496226670333915618' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5496226670333915618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5496226670333915618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/bravo.html' title='Bravo!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6185365136588387589</id><published>2008-04-28T20:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T20:55:42.205-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home(s)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Stung</title><content type='html'>Remember &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/06/die-die-die.html"&gt;back when Juan found a scorpion on our couch&lt;/a&gt;?  And &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/07/invasion.html"&gt;when I found one in the washing machine&lt;/a&gt;?  Those were unfortunately just the first two of many ugly, scary little "friends" we've found here in the last two years.  Well, tonight my arm looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procserv/47b8da09b3127ccea88c66b8794c00000026108ActWTdwzYta"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because I got stung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juan and I were playing with Luke in his room, and when I put my arm down on my knee I felt the sting.  It HURT.  I haven't been stung by a bee in twenty some-odd years, that's roughly how it felt.  The good news is that this type of scorpion's sting is about as dangerous as a bee's, so while Juan did make a point of circling the sting with a pen (and noting how far the redness spread) it's not dangerous in the slightest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I still kind of can't believe that I was stung by a scorpion.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not sure what to do about the fact that we've found more of them in Luke's room than in any other part of the house.  I don't like having the exterminator spray in there, especially since it's hard to keep him away from the baseboards now that he's crawling, but I also don't want him to get stung.  Ugh.  We never had to deal with this kind of problem in Maryland.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6185365136588387589?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6185365136588387589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6185365136588387589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6185365136588387589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6185365136588387589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/stung.html' title='Stung'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7533312500462924990</id><published>2008-04-25T17:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T17:34:23.155-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Done and done</title><content type='html'>Thank God it's Friday.  No, really, THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY.  If I had to go back to that school in anything less than 48 hours I would probably go crazy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(this is where my rant about today's administrative fuckup would go if, you know, I could blog about it.  Suffice it to say, there was a fuckup, I will quit if it isn't resolved, and there's nothing I can do about it until people I don't completely trust do what they need to do)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, the silver lining is that today is also the day we booked our tickets to GREECE for our anniversary/medical conference trip in June.  It really can't come soon enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7533312500462924990?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7533312500462924990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7533312500462924990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7533312500462924990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7533312500462924990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/done-and-done.html' title='Done and done'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8387812071026284001</id><published>2008-04-20T14:24:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T14:49:50.565-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>The cutest thing in the world</title><content type='html'>I double dog dare you not to agree that &lt;a href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-7994291017815302077&amp;hl=en"/&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; is the cutest thing the world has possibly ever seen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8387812071026284001?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8387812071026284001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8387812071026284001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8387812071026284001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8387812071026284001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/cutest-thing-in-world.html' title='The cutest thing in the world'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6346175279453775825</id><published>2008-04-11T21:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T21:12:11.612-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Moot Point</title><content type='html'>Well, it seems as though Luke read my last post because he's been waking up at 2:30 for the last three mornings.  Oh well, we'll get this "through the night" business down someday, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  In other news, I've been approached to maybe possibly teach AP English next year.  Everything depends on what a couple of other teachers decide to do (one possibly retiring, one probably transferring to a different campus) but if the spot opens up it's mine.  I'm afraid to get too excited about this because it's still very uncertain, but since I have to start doing prep work now if I'm going to be ready by next September it's been on my mind pretty much constantly since I found out about it on Monday. It would be &lt;i&gt;huge&lt;/i&gt; for me to get this, not only because it would be an amazing challenge in and of itself, but because it will look really good on my resume when we move at some point in the next few years and I have to find another job.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onward and upward on a number of fronts, it seems.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6346175279453775825?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6346175279453775825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6346175279453775825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6346175279453775825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6346175279453775825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/moot-point.html' title='Moot Point'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2994175533540328796</id><published>2008-04-08T19:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T19:35:18.481-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Advice welcome</title><content type='html'>I am &lt;i&gt;dying&lt;/i&gt; for sleep here.  Luke has taken to waking up between 4:00 and 4:30 for the last two weeks, and since it takes him over an hour to go back down and we have to get up by 6:00, no one is getting enough sleep.  He's tired and cranky, I'm tired and cranky, and Juan is too bleary eyed to know which way is up.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good part of this is that two months ago he was regularly waking at 2:30, last month it was 3:30, and my hope is that by May/June he'll be sleeping until it's really time to wake up more than once a week.  The bad part, of course, is that we appear to be stuck in this awful pattern until his system matures just that little bit more to stay full an additional 90 minutes overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of you readers have kids, so I'm asking for suggestions to help speed things along if at all possible.  I'm entertaining all options (including formula) that could help us all get enough rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2994175533540328796?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2994175533540328796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2994175533540328796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2994175533540328796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2994175533540328796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/advice-welcome.html' title='Advice welcome'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4004076208817951139</id><published>2008-04-03T21:31:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:32:17.027-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>And incidentally</title><content type='html'>My blog is the number one hit when you Google "babysitter disaster stories."  I'm so proud...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4004076208817951139?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4004076208817951139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4004076208817951139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4004076208817951139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4004076208817951139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-incidentally.html' title='And incidentally'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7841548028179246345</id><published>2008-04-03T18:44:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T18:48:11.952-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Lull</title><content type='html'>I'm liveblogging straight from parent/teacher night and it's...dull.  Many of the parents of my problem students have shown up, many of the parents of my good students have shown up, but it's still slow.  Bummer.  The one thing that kept me from bursting into tears when I left Luke with the sitter this morning (the first time I've left him for longer than a standard workday and only the second time ever I've not been the one to put him to bed) was the thought that at least I'd be too busy talking to parents to miss my boy.  I'll give you one guess as to whether or not it's working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I go home yet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7841548028179246345?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7841548028179246345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7841548028179246345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7841548028179246345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7841548028179246345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/04/lull.html' title='Lull'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4375471318796636608</id><published>2008-03-31T22:19:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-31T22:27:34.057-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not BAD, just bad</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to do more cooking on weeknights these days (in the vain hope that someday we'll break our takeout habit) and am meeting with results that, while far less hysterically awful than &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/08/more-on-bad-things-happening-when-c.html"&gt; previous&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2006/02/reason-547-why-i-shouldnt-be-allowed.html"&gt; attempts&lt;/a&gt; at culinary perfection, are just...not good.  Tonight's dinner was a case in point.  A crock pot recipe for cashew chicken that &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; have been good.  Chicken, broth, snow peas, bamboo shoots, cashews, what's not to like?  Okay, so it took four hours to cook and I didn't start it until after 5:00.  And, okay, I may have forgotten to make the rice until after 9:30, but who cares.  Homemade cashew chicken!  Good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the blandest, boring-est, waste-of-calories-est meal I've ever eaten.  Total disappointment, especially for poor Juan who put in a 16 hour day at the hospital only to come home to crappy food and a wife who wouldn't STFU about how much dinner sucked.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in case any of you were wondering whether or not I still suck at all things domestic, the answer is yes.  Yes, I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4375471318796636608?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4375471318796636608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4375471318796636608' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4375471318796636608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4375471318796636608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-bad-just-bad.html' title='Not BAD, just bad'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-5349706383350034510</id><published>2008-03-30T10:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T10:28:50.526-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Nice Time</title><content type='html'>I have a confession to make--I lied last week when I wrote that Luke and I would be spending Spring Break lounging around the house.  We did, but not &lt;i&gt;our&lt;/i&gt; house.  Instead, we flew to Utah and stayed with my parents for five days.  The reason for the deception was that my very good friend Marcie (who reads this blog--hi, Marcie!) is having a baby in June and our friend Michele and I conspired to throw her a surprise baby shower last week complete with a surprise special guest--me!  I couldn't exactly talk about my trip when she didn't know about it, ergo the lying.  I'm sure you'll all forgive me someday for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shower went well, Luke played wonderfully with Michele's 4 month old daughter, and my parents hardly let me hold him the rest of the week since all they wanted to do was play with their grandson.  I can't say I'm feeling much more rested today than I was a week ago, though, what with Luke's refusal to nap longer than 30 minutes or go through the night without two or three wakings.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since today is mostly just recovering from the excitement of our trip (U2 in 3D!  IKEA!  Visitors galore!) I'll leave you here with a few pictures of the boy on Easter when Arcadia suddenly had a personality transplant and decided to be very patient with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/R--Zjpt3hpI/AAAAAAAACPY/lbdtXy1XEuA/DSC02250.JPG.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well hello, this is something unusual&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/R--Zmpt3hqI/AAAAAAAACPg/ESOMoMgWisY/DSC02251.JPG.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, okay Daddy I see how to pet the kitty.  Let me try!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/R--Zupt3htI/AAAAAAAACP8/pRoYFmFhbUo/DSC02254.JPG.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm &lt;i&gt;good&lt;/i&gt; at this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/cmartinezross/R--ZxZt3huI/AAAAAAAACQE/sHR96ax0mWc/DSC02255.JPG.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look, there's even this handy little tail for me to grab and put in my mouth!  Mmmm.... kitty fur!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/cmartinezross/R--Z0Jt3hvI/AAAAAAAACQM/zlbrzdZ5f30/DSC02256.JPG.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, where are you going kitty?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-5349706383350034510?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/5349706383350034510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=5349706383350034510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5349706383350034510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/5349706383350034510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/nice-time.html' title='Nice Time'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6136772077461115127</id><published>2008-03-19T18:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T19:06:44.086-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>I still suck, but somewhat less than yesterday</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.  It started at 6:45 in the morning when I went to the garage to pull some breastmilk out of our chest freezer.  I've been dipping into my freezer stash (mass quantities of frozen breastmilk left over from my maternity leave for those who've never had to stock one) and discovered only three bags were left.  Three bags, or six ounces total, out of a stash that had once been close to 300 ounces.  Since those six ounces combined with the twelve I had managed to pump on Monday only equaled 18 and Luke needs 24 while I'm away, I had only one option: formula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, formula isn't the devil.  It's not even close, and all along I've known that this day was going to eventually come.  I've been back at work for over 4 months now and can only pump twice during the day--getting 24 ounces in two sessions just isn't realistic.  Still, I had to battle a lump in my throat when I pulled out a dusty can of (not yet expired--I checked) formula we got as a sample when Luke was a newborn and walked across the street to the nanny.  She was very understanding and assured me repeatedly that he was going to do great, but I still felt like a failure.  I wanted so badly to make it through Spring Break next week without supplementing and I was &lt;i&gt;this close&lt;/i&gt; to making my goal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, that put me in a funk the rest of the day, which wasn't helped by the dozens of kids who either A: didn't do their midterm projects, B: did the project wrong because they didn't read the assignment sheet carefully, and/or C: waltzed into my room five minutes before my final deadline to hand in make-up work wanting to know how they could pull their 35 up to a 70.  Needless to say, I did a lot of yelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally shoved the last kid out the door with a reminder to DO HIS WORK ON TIME FOR THE NEXT REPORT CARD and made it home around 5:20.  Luke and I played for awhile and then it was time for him to eat dinner.  Dinner these days is one jar of baby food and three tablespoons of oatmeal cereal mixed with breastmilk.  He'd been balking at cereal for a few nights, but I honestly thought it was because he was full rather than because he changed his mind about liking it.  Wrong.  After three bites (and I should say here that I think I'm mostly to blame for this since I realized after the fact that I made the cereal thicker than he's been eating it lately and I suspect he didn't like the texture) he gagged and then vomited everywhere.  His high chair, the floor, me, the dog, you name it.  Poor baby!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally I panicked a bit since this was the first time he's truly thrown up, so after consulting &lt;i&gt;Baby 411&lt;/i&gt; and scoffing at their suggestion to give him only Pedialyte for the next few hours (at bedtime there ARE no more hours, plus we had no Pedialyte in the house and Juan was still at work) I threw him in the tub and nursed him to sleep.  Then I called my husband and my mom, in that order, needing some TLC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today has been quite a bit better, but I think what I really need is a vacation.  Good thing Spring Break is coming up next week and I can spend the whole 9 days laying around the house, playing with my boy, and trying to remember that the good days vastly outnumber the bad ones around here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6136772077461115127?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6136772077461115127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6136772077461115127' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6136772077461115127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6136772077461115127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-still-suck-but-somewhat-less-than.html' title='I still suck, but somewhat less than yesterday'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6801613392460741945</id><published>2008-03-18T19:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T19:43:40.037-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Mother of the Year</title><content type='html'>I suck.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6801613392460741945?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6801613392460741945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6801613392460741945' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6801613392460741945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6801613392460741945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/mother-of-year.html' title='Mother of the Year'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8601399557465522861</id><published>2008-03-11T17:42:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T17:59:01.060-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Seven Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/R9Xl3DlbInI/AAAAAAAACJU/QREX08UZjW4/DSC02206.JPG?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke turned seven months old yesterday, in what truly was one of the crummiest Mondays on record.  He didn't sleep Sunday night, and then when I got to school I discovered that someone had stolen my classroom laptop over the weekend.  Oh, and I forgot the breast pump at home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I was not a fan of the seven month birthday, but today (after filing a police report, getting a loaner laptop at school, and experiencing a rare uninterrupted night of sleep) things are looking much brighter.  Plus, my adorable boy has started smacking his lips and saying "Bah!" which we can now add to "Gah!" as his favorite syllable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/cmartinezross/R9XmYzlbIwI/AAAAAAAACKg/XMh-M0_GuqM/DSC02225.JPG?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're also moving ever closer to crawling as Luke has started getting up on his hands and knees unassisted.  He knows he can get most places by rolling, but he's bound and determined to move forwards as well as sideways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/cmartinezross/R9XmOTlbItI/AAAAAAAACKI/lG-fTMak6b0/DSC02220.JPG?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting is also getting better every day, and while he really likes having someone to lean on, he's starting to discover how much fun he can have on his own.  He looks so proud of himself when he manages to stay balanced while reaching for a toy--it cracks me up and melts my heart at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/cmartinezross/R9XmVTlbIvI/AAAAAAAACKY/mFgYdP8B7kM/DSC02222.JPG?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I'm giving a big thumbs up to seven months!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8601399557465522861?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8601399557465522861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8601399557465522861' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8601399557465522861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8601399557465522861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/seven-months.html' title='Seven Months'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7035325027229077155</id><published>2008-03-09T21:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T21:11:59.176-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Hold onto your hats (errrr...nunchucks)</title><content type='html'>Remember all those news stories about people throwing Wii remote nunchuck controllers that came out a couple years ago?  Remember laughing hysterically at the thought of perfectly capable, competent adults getting so involved in a video game that they actually threw the game through their TV?  Well, Juan almost did that tonight, only instead of throwing it through the television he managed to almost break his elbow and the remote at the same time after swinging it a &lt;i&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; too close to my armchair during a rousing game of Wii Bowling.  He bowled, connected with the chair, the nunchuck went flying (it landed behind the dog's crate) and a number of curse words were yelled rather loudly while he clutched his elbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the moral of the story is: use the little rubber handgrip things that come with your Wii remote so it doesn't get broken if you happen to hurl it into space while playing.  Also, don't gloat over your wins at Wii Tennis and Baseball after doing something like hurling your Wii remote into space while playing or else your wife might blog about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7035325027229077155?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7035325027229077155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7035325027229077155' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7035325027229077155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7035325027229077155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/hold-onto-your-hats-errrrnunchucks.html' title='Hold onto your hats (errrr...nunchucks)'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6908747961863849717</id><published>2008-03-08T12:59:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T13:10:41.367-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the other kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Please skip if you have a weak stomach</title><content type='html'>Jasper had a grooming appointment this morning, so Luke and I got up, dressed, and ready to go fairly quickly compared to most Saturdays.  I left Jas outside for awhile figuring that he'd be cooped up indoors enough today what with the hair cutting and drying, but what I didn't figure on was that he'd find poop to roll around in while he was out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poop.  All over the dog.  ALL OVER THE DOG.  This was no little poop he picked, and he was quite literally covered from head to paw.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending several minutes covering the baby's ears while I cursed whatever gods decided to ruin my morning, I decided that A: we didn't have enough time to hose him off before going to PetSmart, and B: I'm paying the groomer good money to wash my dog, so they might as well earn it!  I covered the passenger seat of my car with a sheet, said a few prayers, and drove like a maniac before the smell made me puke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally there was a line to check in when I arrived, and naturally I got dirty looks from all the other pet owners whose clean dogs wanted nothing more than to rub up against my unbelievably filthy one.  I wanted to explain to everyone that this literally JUST happened right before we left for the groomer, but figured that a quick dropoff and exit was my best bet.  After apologizing profusely to the groomer (and making a mental note to tip her extra when I go back this afternoon) Luke and I practically ran out of the store.  Ugh.  I'm sure they're making a note in our file as I type "Owner brought dog in covered in poop, charge her double next time" and I can hardly blame them.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, it could have been a lot worse.  He could have rolled in the poop right after he was groomed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6908747961863849717?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6908747961863849717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6908747961863849717' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6908747961863849717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6908747961863849717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/please-skip-if-you-have-weak-stomach.html' title='Please skip if you have a weak stomach'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3205618227894754065</id><published>2008-03-05T18:02:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T18:09:31.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Good, Bad</title><content type='html'>Good:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Getting out two hours early from TAKS testing because I happened to be testing with the only group of kids who were allowed to leave the building as soon as they finished their exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Getting stranded at school until 30 minutes after the final bell because no one else was available to check in dictionaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Coming home to a happy baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Coming home to a completely exposed roof because the roofers (who will henceforth be known as the Fucking Roofers or FRs) went AWOL today and left huge rolls of felt, shovels, and other assorted crap on our half-demolished roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nice, temperate weather all day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rainclouds looming while the roof stands exposed because the FRs went AWOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Quick response by the roofing company managers to my call about the FRs, the exposed roof chock full of random crap that will doubtless be blowing all over the neighborhood when the wind picks up, and the looming rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Quick response requires a new roofing crew to come finish up the job the FRs left half done in the middle of Luke's bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-box full of ice cream sandwiches in the freezer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-box full of ice cream sandwiches in the freezer that I will probably be stuffing my face with after Luke can finally go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdict:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day appears to be a wash&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3205618227894754065?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3205618227894754065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3205618227894754065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3205618227894754065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3205618227894754065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/good-bad.html' title='Good, Bad'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4380621351073804353</id><published>2008-03-04T20:25:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T20:41:12.633-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the other kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Random list of things on my mind</title><content type='html'>We've been going through a bit of a household purge/upheaval over the last month.  First we got confirmation that the roof needed replacing (lovely), then we decided to buy a dining set and replace some ruined couches (courtesy of the lovely Miss Arcadia who's lucky not to be skinned alive over the cost), and then our nearly new TV set developed an unbearable high-pitched squeal that we can't turn off.  The TV is probably a goner if what I'm reading on Samsung sites is correct, so that's likely another big purchase on the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm strange, but all of this change (new roof, new furniture, new TV) is making me twitchy.  I like things to stay roughly the same from day to day, and suddenly I'm looking around my house and realizing that I hardly recognize it.  It's a little disconcerting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me nearly 45 minutes to vote in the primary this morning even though I arrived promptly at 7:00 am.  Our precinct had the slowest poll workers ever manning the Democrat table, and at one point none of the six Diebold machines was being used while all four poll workers took their time v.e.r.y. s.l.o.w.l.y. highlighting the names of people at the front of the line and filling out caucus receipts.  If I hadn't wanted my "I Voted" sticker to use as an object lesson for the seniors who aren't registered to vote yet, I probably would have just walked out at that point and gone back after work.  Note to the Texas Democratic Party--don't assign 80 year olds to man the polls first thing in the morning on election day unless you want 50+ cranky people who need to get to their jobs filing complaints with the Secretary of State.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my husband falls asleep on the couch and starts snoring it sounds &lt;i&gt;exactly&lt;/i&gt; like there's an out of tune radio on somewhere in the house.  Very disconcerting, especially after dark and especially when he claims that A: he didn't fall asleep, and B: he doesn't know what noise I'm talking about.  I honestly thought I might be having auditory hallucinations for half an hour until I realized what the noise actually was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The English Language Arts TAKS test is tomorrow and I'm nervous as heck about how my students are going to do.  We've been prepping for it for over a month and I know there are still kids who are going to look at the open-ended prompts and totally forget how to write their responses.  Stupid TAKS.  Stupid kids who don't pay attention in class.  Stupid me for not starting test prep before Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4380621351073804353?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4380621351073804353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4380621351073804353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4380621351073804353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4380621351073804353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/03/random-list-of-things-on-my-mine.html' title='Random list of things on my mind'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7380609911803224721</id><published>2008-02-28T15:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T09:10:11.752-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Because more vents about education will only depress everyone</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh4.google.com/cmartinezross/R8CsrfcKcGI/AAAAAAAAB-M/WdzX9rJKRa0/s41027cb107199_10_3.jpg?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7380609911803224721?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7380609911803224721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7380609911803224721' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7380609911803224721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7380609911803224721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/because-more-vents-about-education-will.html' title='Because more vents about education will only depress everyone'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1555943991475544543</id><published>2008-02-27T20:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T21:00:28.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Beating my head against a wall</title><content type='html'>Some days I truly wonder why I bother.  After a series of increasingly depressing staff meetings today about budget problems, district mandates to teach to new tests rather than to return our focus to actual literature, "new" initiatives that were tried years ago and were retired due to complete and utter failure, and other equally upsetting topics; I left school feeling completely and utterly helpless to do anything that might actually make a difference in my students' lives.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least part of the problem is, as I posted the other day, the fact that NCLB has made testing vitally important to the survival of every public school.  Thus, our administrators are justifiably desperate for ways to improve performance, even at the cost of actual education.  A bigger part, at least from today's perspective, is that instead of trying just one or two new initiatives every few years to see if they make a difference, we're thrown half a dozen every year and told to make them all succeed, even when some work at cross purposes.  It's like the district throws handfuls of pedagogical spaghetti at our little wall in the hope that some strands will stick even if most of them fall to the floor.  The problem with that analogy, though, is that when real spaghetti goes "splat" it doesn't carry with it the future of hundreds of children whose educational needs are going unmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a teacher, my hands are mostly tied.  I can speak my mind to my administrative team during staff meetings, I can even go to school board sessions and let them know what I think, but the ultimate decision makers don't have to listen to a word I say.  They don't have to try to juggle all the balls we're supposed to manage each and every day.  They don't have to explain to students and parents why they're having to learn yet another formula for writing essays rather than reading a novel or engaging in some creative writing challenges.  Moreover, they don't have to try to look a kid squarely in the eye and try to come up with an explanation that makes any kind of sense for all the BS hoops she has to jump through in order to get a diploma.  It's infuriating and disheartening, and it makes me wonder how I'm going to keep doing this job (this job that I love 95% of the time) in the long run if things continue like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1555943991475544543?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1555943991475544543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1555943991475544543' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1555943991475544543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1555943991475544543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/beating-my-head-against-wall.html' title='Beating my head against a wall'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-9052145384544056305</id><published>2008-02-24T19:54:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T20:14:30.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>Wii likey</title><content type='html'>In a moment of sheer insanity I told Juan that if he could find a Wii he could buy it.  Call it an early birthday/Father's Day/anniversary present.  I was convinced that he wouldn't be able to track one down, especially since most stores seem to get shipments in the middle of the week and his only days off are generally Saturdays and Sundays.  Imagine my surprise when he got up at 6:00 this morning, headed over to Target, and managed to score one of the handful of systems they put on sale today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I am not a video game fan.  I don't think I've so much as picked up a controller since the joystick went out of fashion, and the idea of spending hours repeating the same limited actions over and over again appeals about as much as a root canal.  The Wii intrigued me, though, since at least it gets players up off the couch.  So, when Juan brought the boxes home this morning I thought hey, maybe I'll like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, I don't like it.  I LOVE it!  I kicked butt at Wii boxing (Juan's butt, to be precise) and bowling, but he can beat me pretty easily at tennis and baseball.  We're both feeling the burn tonight too, since we were able to play for a solid 90 minutes during Luke's unheard of long afternoon nap.  The only problem is that Jasper doesn't quite "get" what we're doing with the remotes and barks like crazy when he sees us playing.  Oh well, for this much fun I'm willing to put up with a slightly loud puppy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-9052145384544056305?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/9052145384544056305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=9052145384544056305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9052145384544056305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/9052145384544056305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/wii-likey.html' title='Wii likey'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6965215246931929187</id><published>2008-02-22T17:32:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T20:25:01.030-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Geek 2.0?</title><content type='html'>Juan and I have often joked that we've set poor Luke up to hate school.  With an MD/computer geek father and an English teacher/history nut mother, we're both clearly a little obsessed with learning and want to pass that on to him and his (future, someday, WHOLE DIFFERENT POST ENTIRELY) siblings.  Whether or not he'll love school is something we obviously can't know yet, but hopefully he'll at least be interested in a subject or two and motivated to get good grades the same way we were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry about his educational experience, though, because as a high school teacher I see every day just how much the No Child Left Behind Act is sucking fun and innovation out of our classrooms.  By way of example, at every high school in our city students spend 6-8 weeks in every core class (English, Science, Math, and Social Studies) doing nothing but preparing for the state assessment test.  In English we teach them to compose formulaic responses that wring all creativity out of their writing.  In history they memorize dates of "important" historical events that have a decided Western/European bias.  In math and science they memorize formulas and have less time for practical projects and experiments than they did pre-NCLB.  In short, even students who generally enjoy school hate it from January through April because the focus is on passing the test rather than genuine learning.  Things are worse on the elementary level because many schools throw certain subjects out the window entirely for weeks before a different subject test to just focus on skills needed for that test alone.  No science in the weeks before the English test, no English in the weeks before the math test, etc...  It's appalling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, it worries me to think that Luke will have to deal with the repercussions of this era of "standards" in education.  To be clear, I think we do need to measure student achievement in some way that doesn't involve report cards.  Standardized tests are simply not enough to measure that success, though, particularly when you consider the things that a standardized test simply can't measure such as creativity, an individual's unique learning curve (since not everyone learns at exactly the same rate), and intellectual curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this is a very long-winded way of saying that I am rather concerned that by the time Luke gets to school there won't be any room for the types of fun and innovative learning that Juan and I were exposed to as students, particularly in the areas of math and science.  I confess that I wasn't a fan of math and science classes when I was in school.  English, history, art, and drama were where my talents lay, whereas I struggled with concepts that involved numbers.  I still do, as a matter of fact.  Juan, on the other hand, excelled across the board in school but he was especially gifted in math and science, and thanks to some excellent teachers he decided he loved them enough to major in Biology and go on to medical school.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want Luke to have that experience if at all possible.  Not necessarily the majoring-in-biology-going-on-to-medical-school bit, but the fun and interactive math and science lessons that can really capture a child's imagination and give them insight into the genuinely cool real world applications for these disciplines.  We all need to understand basic math and science principles to function in today's world, and a more advanced understanding (and passion) only helps people who have passion for those subjects.  I doubt many parents or teachers would disagree with me, and yet here we are.  We're losing the &lt;i&gt;point&lt;/i&gt; of so many subjects--teaching children how to think critically rather than just memorize facts--so we can evaluate how much they're learning.  In what twisted world does that logic make sense?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully the educational pendulum will have swung back in the direction of sanity by the time Luke is in school.  If not, well, I guess we'll be investing in some home chemistry, biology, and practical mathematics lessons in addition to the hundreds of books we already own.  It just makes me sad that we even have to think about how his education may be lacking the very things that made school so enjoyable for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post was inspired by the Parent Bloggers Network's &lt;a href="http://blog.parentbloggers.com"&gt;Bringing Science Back&lt;/a&gt; blog blast.  Go to PBN and read more about it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6965215246931929187?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6965215246931929187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6965215246931929187' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6965215246931929187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6965215246931929187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/geek-20.html' title='Geek 2.0?'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7290211132291689075</id><published>2008-02-18T20:21:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T20:24:52.939-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>The delightful thing about being married to someone who majored in Biology</title><content type='html'>Him:  "Hey, what's the name of this DVD you want me to rip?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*pause*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  "Jane Eyre"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him:  "Oh.  How do you spell that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (waits a minute to weigh the benefits of snarking him versus the very real possibility that he may refuse to finish making the DVD if I'm too snarky)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"J-a-n-e space E-y-r-e"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him:  "Shut up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  (collapses in laughter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7290211132291689075?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7290211132291689075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7290211132291689075' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7290211132291689075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7290211132291689075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/delightful-thing-about-being-married-to.html' title='The delightful thing about being married to someone who majored in Biology'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2145258919122989912</id><published>2008-02-15T17:27:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T17:31:14.779-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Fangirl</title><content type='html'>I implore you to RUN (figuratively speaking) to Jennifer Weiner's fantastic blog &lt;a href="http://www.jenniferweiner.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Moment of Jen&lt;/a&gt; to read the first chapter of &lt;i&gt;Certain Girls&lt;/i&gt;, her new book that's coming out in April.  It's a sequel to &lt;i&gt;Good in Bed&lt;/i&gt;, which is easily one of the best chick lit novels out there, and based on the first chapter &lt;i&gt;Certain Girls&lt;/i&gt; is going to be another winner.  Plus, infertility storyline!  If there's a writer who's equipped to deal with infertility in a funny and sensitive way, it's Jennifer Weiner, hands-down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you still doing here?  Go, read, enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2145258919122989912?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2145258919122989912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2145258919122989912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2145258919122989912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2145258919122989912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/fangirl.html' title='Fangirl'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4720938370687588616</id><published>2008-02-14T18:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T18:24:52.050-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>I think it's a hit</title><content type='html'>Want to know how to make your incredibly geeky husband really, really happy on Valentine's Day?  Get your mind out of the gutter and (apparently) into...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/13760000/13769051.JPG&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hasn't stopped grinning since he got home and opened it up.  Methinks it's a hit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4720938370687588616?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4720938370687588616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4720938370687588616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4720938370687588616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4720938370687588616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-think-its-hit.html' title='I think it&apos;s a hit'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4726159658359994644</id><published>2008-02-13T12:36:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T12:48:15.934-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(in)fertility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><title type='text'>The only thing keeping me from crying today makes me want to cry</title><content type='html'>I'm having a rough week.  My students have been acting out for substitutes lately and (of course) I have a mandatory training off-campus all day tomorrow so there's going to be yet another sub coming in.  Combine that with a grant application deadline that's looming, a lingering cold, and some very wakeful nights with Luke and I'm just miserable.  It's a miracle I haven't fallen asleep or burst into tears in class, that's how tired and miserable I feel right now.  All that's keeping me going right now is the knowledge that Juan doesn't have to work this weekend so he can take over parenting duties while I take some much needed naps, and that makes me feel even worse.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all we went through to have Luke I feel guilty for whining about how tired or stressed I am even though I know these thoughts don't mean I'm not incredibly thankful to have him.  I've seen some discussion about this guilt on parenting-after-infertility message boards, so I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.  It's a "how dare I wish for a baby-free day when there are still so many couples out there who would kill for what I have" feeling that doesn't go away even though I know, intellectually, that being happy all the time just isn't realistic.  I'm a new mom who hasn't had a decent night's sleep in over 6 months and has a full time job outside the home--it's not unreasonable for me to want a break from my life once in awhile.  Try telling that to the little nagging voice in the back of my head, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4726159658359994644?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4726159658359994644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4726159658359994644' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4726159658359994644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4726159658359994644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/only-thing-keeping-me-from-crying-today.html' title='The only thing keeping me from crying today makes me want to cry'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7160151231041408095</id><published>2008-02-10T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T10:21:13.256-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Six months!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/cmartinezross/R68nHfcKbOI/AAAAAAAAB0g/61_w19ZARHw/DSC02140.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Luke's 6 month birthday and it's hard to believe how fast the last half year has gone by.  At his appointment on Friday he was 25.59 in. long (25th percentile) and weighed 14.69 lbs. (10th percentile) so he's still a small boy, but one who's growing every day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big news out of the visit was that he's teething!  Surprise!  Juan and I had no idea he was so close to cutting teeth, but the doctor took one look at his gums and declared that both bottom teeth are "right there".  Sure enough, you can easily see them when he opens his mouth wide (which he's refusing to do right now, otherwise I'd share a picture) and I can even feel the sharp ridge of the right one when I feel his gums.  He's being a trooper about them even though they must be uncomfortable, and other than a low fever he's been running on and off this weekend he's his normal happy self.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's very anxious to be on the go, and while crawling isn't happening yet he's found a very effective way to scooch around on his back.  The cats are less than thrilled with this development, and while they'll still come near him when he's on the floor they've learned to stay attentive to how close he is to their tails.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've also started to see some real stranger anxiety from him, which is a bit early but not wholly surprising.  There doesn't seem to be a consistent pattern with who he decides he doesn't like, but mostly he seems to be more afraid of women than of men. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, though, Luke continues to be the happiest, most easygoing baby I've ever known.  Happy half-birthday, little boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7160151231041408095?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7160151231041408095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7160151231041408095' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7160151231041408095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7160151231041408095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/six-months.html' title='Six months!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7381844396155456073</id><published>2008-02-03T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T20:42:44.163-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random things C does'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>I never learn</title><content type='html'>Why is it that I ALWAYS end up going to the grocery store on Super Bowl Sunday?  It's like I'm physically incapable of remembering to buy some completely essential thing until the worst possible day to shop.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, because I like to up the ante idiocy-wise every year, Luke had to come with me to Albertson's today.  He was an absolute angel the whole time, unlike the 20-something man we encountered in the frozen food aisle who ran past us yelling "Get in the fucking line already!" to someone on his cellphone while also steering a cart that, I kid you not, contained at least a dozen cases of Bud Lite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got out unscathed, and I am once again pledging to never, EVER go to the supermarket on Super Bowl Sunday again.  Until next year, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edited to add:  Thank goodness the Giants won.  Perfection is boring.  Not that I watched the game--I've spent the evening participating in the anti-Super Bowl: a "Sex and the City" marathon accompanied by brownies and vegetarian chicken nuggets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7381844396155456073?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7381844396155456073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7381844396155456073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7381844396155456073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7381844396155456073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-never-learn.html' title='I never learn'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-249172245095965966</id><published>2008-01-26T07:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T18:03:24.888-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Things parents should never, ever do at their child's school</title><content type='html'>Report cards came out last week and we're all starting to hear from parents who just can't understand why Tommy or Suzy didn't pass English even though they received MULTIPLE calls over the course of the semester about their child's poor grades.  So, in honor of those parents, here are a few things that drive teachers absolutely crazy.  If you're a parent, please take note to never, ever do these things.  Ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Ignore academic problems until it's too late&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year I had a student whose parents didn't care about his failing grade in my class until three weeks before graduation.  THREE WEEKS.  By that time I had made a dozen calls to his home to inform them of his grade situation, the school counselor had been in touch about his chances of graduating, and five progress reports had gone out, all of which had contained failing grades.  Three weeks before graduation, though, was the first time anyone from his family ever wanted to meet with me to discuss the situation, and by that point it was really too late to do anything to fix things.  He ended up taking the class over in summer school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Lie to your spouse about your child's grades&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A colleague of mine had an irate parent call the principal last year to complain that she had never informed him or his wife that their son was failing.  After some back and forth between my coworker, both parents, and the principal it finally came out that she had spoken to the mom--twice--about the kid's grade but Mom didn't want Dad to know about it so she never told him about the calls.  Bad idea.  It was, as you can imagine, horribly embarrassing for the parents plus their son had to repeat that semester of English the following year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;-Just show up in the middle of the school day without any warning&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, don't get me wrong, if your child is failing my class I want to meet with you in person.  I don't, however, want to meet with you while I have a class in session.  Last week a parent came by with her son to ask why he'd been marked tardy so many times.  I would have been happy to talk about her son's issues with getting to my class on time, but not while I was in the middle of a lecture.  Word to the wise--if you want to talk to your child's teacher make an appointment.  Just showing up in the middle of the school day will never get you what you want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, pay attention to your child's grades throughout the school year, keep your spouse informed of problems at school, and call ahead if you want to talk to your child's teacher about a problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-249172245095965966?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/249172245095965966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=249172245095965966' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/249172245095965966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/249172245095965966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/things-parents-should-never-ever-do-at.html' title='Things parents should never, ever do at their child&apos;s school'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2770025651241082215</id><published>2008-01-21T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T09:42:55.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>The joy of 5 months old</title><content type='html'>Five months old has been very good to us so far.  Luke is &lt;i&gt;finally&lt;/i&gt; on something that resembles a nap schedule AND he put himself to sleep at naptime for the FIRST TIME EVER this morning.  It took a few minutes of fussing and a dozen or so replacements of the pacifier after he ripped it out of his mouth so he could yell a bit, but finally he just rolled over, closed his eyes, and is now out like a light.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not quite able to sit up on his own yet, but with a little assistance from a Boppy pillow he can stay up for quite awhile.  His tummy muscles are clearly able to support sitting, it's just his balance that's a bit iffy still.  He's not tripoding much, but I think that in the next few weeks he'll figure that out.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His favorite toy is still his Exersaucer (though Juan thinks it's encouraging his ADD side since sometimes he'll play with each toy for 15 seconds before spinning to the next--I think it's hysterical) and we're going to have to increase its height pretty soon since he's almost too tall for the lowest setting.  Anything that involves standing (while supported) is a big hit, which is probably why he's still wobbly while sitting--it's difficult to get him to want to sit some days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at Costco on Saturday since I had an eye appointment, and I can't even tell you how many people came up to me and commented on what a happy little boy Luke seemed to be.  And it's true--he's just the smiliest, silliest, most content baby I've ever met.  He loves interacting with people but is generally okay to be by himself too.  He's not showing much stranger anxiety yet (though we think it's coming soon based on a few experiences he's had recently with new people when he's tired) and flirts shamelessly with other babies and big kids when we're out and about.  When we're in the car he mostly sleeps or sits quietly looking out the window.  Gone are the days when he'd just scream and scream in his carseat--he still doesn't like being buckled in, but once he's there he's happy as a clam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, five months seems pretty good, and that makes me extraordinarily happy.  Every month I think that things can't get much better, that he can't get any cuter, and then he does.  It's amazing.  I feel like the luckiest woman on the planet to have gotten such a wonderful little boy as my son.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2770025651241082215?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2770025651241082215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2770025651241082215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2770025651241082215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2770025651241082215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/joy-of-5-months-old.html' title='The joy of 5 months old'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-62113974269823935</id><published>2008-01-14T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T20:07:42.919-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><title type='text'>Five Months</title><content type='html'>A few days late, but better late than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/cmartinezross/R4rcIG0QiDI/AAAAAAAABsU/_KtxODVtMag/DSC02122.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, &lt;a href="http://shinelikestars.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kathleen&lt;/a&gt; is having her baby as I type!  Congratulations, Kathleen and Brett!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-62113974269823935?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/62113974269823935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=62113974269823935' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/62113974269823935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/62113974269823935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/five-months.html' title='Five Months'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7262874595635664912</id><published>2008-01-12T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T19:57:36.561-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Poor Baby</title><content type='html'>Luke has his first cold, and if there's anything more miserable than &lt;a href="http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/09/sicky-sick-sick.html"&gt;being sick with a newborn&lt;/a&gt; it's having a baby who's sick.  Poor boy has been feverish, stuffy, and coughing since Monday and we're all feeling the strain.  The good news is that (for the most part) he's still his happy, smiling self most of the day.  The bad news is that he's waking up 6-7 times a night, which is making for both a tired baby and a tired Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With any luck he'll kick the cold in the next few days and we'll be able to go back to our usual schedule.  In the meantime, please send good health (and sleep) vibes Luke's way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.google.com/cmartinezross/R3fgvm0QfPI/AAAAAAAABSI/uVGvKy8fjDk/DSC01896.JPG?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please get better quickly, baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7262874595635664912?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7262874595635664912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7262874595635664912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7262874595635664912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7262874595635664912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/poor-baby.html' title='Poor Baby'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-2925699802353367025</id><published>2008-01-11T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T15:35:30.224-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(in)fertility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>America's Next Top Offensive Talk Show</title><content type='html'>This news is making the infertility blog rounds today but I wanted to say a few words myself over the unbelievably offensive upcoming episode of the Tyra Banks Show that is currently soliciting comments/participants.  The pitch for the show &lt;a href="http://tyrashow.warnerbros.com/beontheshow/mom_wannabe.html"&gt;(direct from their website)&lt;/a&gt; is as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;DO YOU KNOW A WOMAN OBSESSED WITH BECOMING PREGNANT?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you know a woman who is obsessed with becoming a mom? Have you seen and heard her struggle for years, felt her unvoiced jealously and seen her desperation first hand? Have you watched silently for too long as she gets her hopes up only to be disappointed and heartbroken when she can’t conceive? Has she tried extreme methods and spent a lot of money to get pregnant with no luck? Do you want to finally tell her she needs to stop the emotional and physical stress on her body and seriously consider adoption or a surrogate alternative? If you know a woman who is obsessed with becoming a mom and getting pregnant, then SUBMIT BELOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please do not submit unless you are willing to appear on “The Tyra Banks Show".&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part of this show is that the following e-mail was sent out to RESOLVE members after the Tyra Show contacted RESOLVE for their help in finding women to be on the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Tyra Banks Show is producing a segment about women who've been in pursuit of a pregnancy for a long time. The show which will tape/air this Thursday will focus on those of us who've tried, without success, almost everything Assisted Reproductive Medicine has to offer yet remain committed to the quest.  Producer Anne Redecki is looking for articulate women who will speak candidly about their experiences, the emotional, physical and financial costs associated with ART, and their determination to stay the course.  &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If you're interested in sharing your story and being on the show, please contact:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kimberly Saunders&lt;br /&gt;Phone: 646 638-5641&lt;br /&gt;Email: Kimberly.Saunders@tyratv.com&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, unless I'm missing something HUGE, this seems to be a classic bait-and-switch situation.  It's like they want to deliberately mislead infertile women who would like to "speak candidly about their experiences" so their unsympathetic friends and family members can tell them they need to stop trying to have a biological child.  It boggles the mind to think of what kind of sadistic asshole A: thought up this show in the first place, and B: wrote that e-mail and sent it out in hopes of deceiving and luring in women going through such a difficult situation.  The fact that they misrepresented the aim of the episode to RESOLVE and used their membership in this way is just beyond the pale.  For that alone, heads need to roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contact information for the producer in charge of this trainwreck is above, and I'd encourage all of you to contact her to voice your disgust over what she and the Tyra Show are proposing.  RESOLVE has been notified and is apparently handling their end of the situation as I type.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-2925699802353367025?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/2925699802353367025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=2925699802353367025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2925699802353367025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/2925699802353367025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/americas-next-top-offensive-talk-show.html' title='America&apos;s Next Top Offensive Talk Show'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7268646735217268005</id><published>2008-01-03T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T15:15:21.632-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rollover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Did you know...</title><content type='html'>Want to know how to make 100 teachers scared out of their ever-loving minds?  Spend 8 hours lecturing them about gang and school violence (complete with demonstrations on just how easy it is to conceal dozens of semi-automatic weapons in a pair of baggy jeans) but don't say a WORD about exactly which gangs are active at their school or what kinds of weapons the school's cop is pulling off students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a fun first day back at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're starting to calm down a bit after the accident, in a segue that has absolutely nothing to do with the above observations, and I was even able to get a decent night's sleep for the first time since it happened.  Hopefully that continues since the (suddenly scary) students come back to school on Monday and it's going to be a tough first few days back as they adjust to actually having to do work for the first time in two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope none of them are packing heat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7268646735217268005?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7268646735217268005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7268646735217268005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7268646735217268005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7268646735217268005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2008/01/did-you-know.html' title='Did you know...'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-720070752168592282</id><published>2007-12-30T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T21:33:09.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pardon the dust</title><content type='html'>A new year seems like a good time for a new look around here.  The design and layout will likely be changing over the next few days, so apologies if the blog suddenly becomes difficult to read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-720070752168592282?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/720070752168592282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=720070752168592282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/720070752168592282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/720070752168592282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/pardon-dust.html' title='Pardon the dust'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6412113583604127250</id><published>2007-12-29T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T00:09:24.573-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rollover'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>PSA</title><content type='html'>We're safely home and, well, that fact is more significant than it may appear on first blush.  Yesterday afternoon we had a pretty bad car accident on our way back to Salt Lake from Idaho.  The roads got icy very quickly and our car rolled.  We got very, very lucky and nobody was injured.  The accident happened when there weren't any other cars around us and the car rolled off the shoulder (and not into oncoming traffic) in an area where there was a lot of brush and snow, so damage to the car and to us was about as minimal as it gets with a rollover.  We were also all wearing seatbelts, and I've never been so thankful for a piece of fabric in my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People, wear your seatbelts.  Make your kids wear their seatbelts.  Make your mothers and your sisters and your friends wear their seatbelts.  It doesn't matter how good a driver you are or how many times you've driven that stretch of road; an accident can happen in an instant, and frequently there's nothing you specifically &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; to cause it.  I can't even count the number of times we've made that same drive, usually in worse weather conditions than the ones we encountered on Friday.  It didn't matter--we hit ice and that was it.  If we hadn't been wearing seatbelts (and Luke hadn't been strapped into his carseat) we certainly wouldn't have walked away from the crash without a scratch, and we might not have walked away at all.  Wear your seatbelts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6412113583604127250?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6412113583604127250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6412113583604127250' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6412113583604127250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6412113583604127250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/psa.html' title='PSA'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7325340618485661160</id><published>2007-12-21T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T15:41:06.100-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Everything but the kitchen sink</title><content type='html'>Packing for our first trip away from home with Luke is...challenging.  I'm fighting the urge to just throw every piece of clothing, toy, and baby accessory we own into his suitcase to cover all the bases, and clearly that isn't an option.  Experienced mom packers, what's one thing  that you wished you had brought with you on your child's first overnight trip?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7325340618485661160?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7325340618485661160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7325340618485661160' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7325340618485661160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7325340618485661160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/everything-but-kitchen-sink.html' title='Everything but the kitchen sink'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8686122510150347827</id><published>2007-12-18T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T15:59:59.539-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Reasons why this is not a good week to mess with me</title><content type='html'>I am not the most pleasant person to be around this week.  Luke has officially entered the 4 month wakeful stage (so nicely coinciding with the week we're taking him on his first overnight trip away from home) and I'm dead on my feet.  Between his sudden decision to drop his evening nap and the last few nights of "MAMA, I IS AWAKE AND WANT TO PLAY!" shrieking into the monitor at 3:00 am (both before and after feeding, I might add) we're not getting much rest around here right now.  Mom, Dad, Julia--you are officially drafted for baby duty when we get to Salt Lake this weekend so Juan and I can take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, all of this is just to explain to you exactly why my students don't want to mess with my right now.  Aside from the fact that I'm so tired I just spelled "right" as "reight" and had to pause a second when spellcheck flagged it because it looked okay to my sleepy eye, my work laptop was abducted by the IT department yesterday and I had nothing to do (seriously, I couldn't even grade papers, that's how dependent we are on those laptops at my school) for 8 hours.  On a normal day that wouldn't have been a problem, but I was giving exams so I couldn't even while the time away by giving a lecture or three.  I didn't bring my knitting because I thought I'd have my laptop, and reading a book during an exam just isn't kosher.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I started off the day in a bad mood because I was very tired and very annoyed that my computer was forcibly taken from me by people who swore that it would "only take an hour" to do whatever needed to be done to make the computer less vulnerable to hackers or elves or whoever else might want to invade my files.  Then my students decided to forget the million or so reminders I had given them for the last week that their final was today and they needed their books, two pieces of blank paper, and a working pen or pencil.  Over half of them showed up to class without anything at all and had to book it to their lockers to get the things they're supposed to bring to class every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd just like to state for the record that I was a very anal retentive high school student.  I always brought my books to class; was never without a large spiral notebook and lots of pens; and I never, EVER forgot about a test.  So, you can see how frustrating and perplexing it is for someone like me to be confronted with not one, but at least a dozen students who simply "forgot" that today was their test and *gasp!* they needed school supplies to take it.  That doesn't include the two kids who outright refused to take the test (resulting in automatic referrals to the Assistant Principal's office) and the one kid who, for some reason, decided to crumple up his essay and put his gum in it so it was impossible for me to grade.  I swear, the scheduling clerk gave me all the winners in this year's sophomore class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm very much looking forward to Friday since I have the day off to run errands and get us packed before we leave town Saturday.  The kids and I need a break from one another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8686122510150347827?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8686122510150347827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8686122510150347827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8686122510150347827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8686122510150347827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/reasons-why-this-is-not-good-week-to.html' title='Reasons why this is not a good week to mess with me'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-7036086438466893139</id><published>2007-12-12T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T17:58:28.646-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><title type='text'>Four Months</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/R16XrUflVjI/AAAAAAAABPg/S9sbA_-M2P0/DSC01876.JPG?imgmax=512"/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke turned four months old on Monday, and I have to say that I am LOVING this age.  He babbles constantly, smiles and giggles when you play with him, still wants to snuggle a fair amount, and loves nothing more than reaching for toys and then jamming them firmly into his mouth.  He's also started to enjoy the sitting position quite a bit, and just in the last few days he's stopped arching his back and trying to "stand" when we get him to sit.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vital stats from today's pediatrician appointment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Length: 23.6 in.&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 13.6 lbs.&lt;br /&gt;Head Circumference: 16.5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've gotten the go-ahead to start him on rice cereal, so we'll probably give it a try this weekend.  Surprisingly, he didn't have a major meltdown after his shots, and right now he's happily playing with Juan and acting like nothing in particular happened at all today.  Hopefully this is the way all of his future vaccinations go (as if)!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we need to gear up to face our next big hurdle--traveling to see both sides of the family for Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-7036086438466893139?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/7036086438466893139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=7036086438466893139' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7036086438466893139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/7036086438466893139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/four-months.html' title='Four Months'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1788900162675543284</id><published>2007-12-10T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T17:29:46.848-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home(s)'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>homeownership bites (no, really)</title><content type='html'>The roof is leaking, sheetrock needs to be replaced (since it's now wet from said leaking roof), one swamp cooler is shot, and the cat is peeing on furniture again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and it's only Monday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1788900162675543284?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1788900162675543284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1788900162675543284' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1788900162675543284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1788900162675543284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/homeownership-bites-no-really.html' title='homeownership bites (no, really)'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1399225452892770867</id><published>2007-12-07T20:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T20:47:33.228-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>That kind of day</title><content type='html'>Today was the kind of day that reminded me of the best and worst parts of my job.  The best: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-actually getting kids who normally do nothing but goof off to do serious work, &lt;br /&gt;-having a student trust me enough to ask for my advice about a serious personal problem,&lt;br /&gt;-and having some free time during the day to stop and chat with my friends &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the worst: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-not knowing what to say to the student who came to me with the personal problem, &lt;br /&gt;-having a student ditch class and steal my stapler,&lt;br /&gt;-and practically dying of heat exhaustion in my classroom since the building's a/c is broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also had the opportunity to learn that over half my students think that Europe, Africa, Paris, and Barcelona are all countries, and that two of them think that plagiarism shouldn't be a big deal because teachers apparently do it "all the time" with no consequences.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The extreme good and bad of teaching rarely coincide on the same day, but today was clearly special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1399225452892770867?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1399225452892770867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1399225452892770867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1399225452892770867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1399225452892770867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/that-kind-of-day.html' title='That kind of day'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-3743932027842095926</id><published>2007-12-04T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T20:46:01.817-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>Dear Students (stupid, stupid students)</title><content type='html'>Dear Students,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may wonder why my door is frequently closed and locked before school, during lunch, and during my conference period.  Those of you who need to talk to me about different issues (usually related to excuses you have concocted in an attempt to get me to accept late homework) might find it irritating or inconvenient to come to my classroom only to find that you can't get in.  For that, I am sincerely sorry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who actually pay attention in class should remember that I have said (and repeated ad nauseum) that if you need to see me when my door is CLOSED AND LOCKED you should leave a note for me in my box.  I'll come find you so we can discuss whatever pressing issue is on your mind.  Those of you who spend class time braiding your hair or flirting with a member of the opposite sex, however, may not have absorbed this information, so you knock on my CLOSED AND LOCKED door when it is CLOSED AND LOCKED.  Those of you with more than three brain cells to rub together will come to the conclusion that I'm not inside when no one answers your knock, and hopefully you'll come back later.  Those of you who, I assume, don't have any brain cells at all (and no, I don't want to know why) will decide that maybe I'm inside, desperate to visit with you in spite of my CLOSED AND LOCKED door, and will rattle the knob.  And knock again.  And rattle the knob.  And knock yet again.  This tactic, while it will force me to make a mental note to remind all six of my classes of what to do if my door is CLOSED AND LOCKED, will not gain you entry.  There is a very simple reason for this, and I guarantee you really don't want to know what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?  You want to know?  That much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm in my room with the door CLOSED AND LOCKED and there isn't a class in session, I'm not grading papers.  I'm also not talking to parents about confidential student issues (although this is what I will tell you in person if you ever ask).  I'm not even having a wild party with all the other cool teachers.  I'm pumping.  Breastmilk.  To feed my baby.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I told you that you didn't want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I encourage you to respect the fact that when my door is CLOSED AND LOCKED, I will not let you in no matter how much you bang on the (tastefully frosted) glass or rattle the handle.  Even if I'm inside, there's no way you're gaining entry.  Accept it and move on, but please don't waste ten minutes of your time trying to break in.  It won't work, and (if I ever find out who you are) it will almost certainly affect your grade in a very negative way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I worry for the future of our nation when a 15-18 year old cannot understand that a CLOSED AND LOCKED door means that either no one is inside the room or someone is inside and they don't want to be disturbed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S.  In case anyone cares, our nanny made it home from Mexico late Sunday night, so daycare crisis averted.  Barely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-3743932027842095926?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/3743932027842095926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=3743932027842095926' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3743932027842095926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/3743932027842095926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/12/dear-students-stupid-stupid-students.html' title='Dear Students (stupid, stupid students)'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-8272614105077302275</id><published>2007-11-30T18:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T19:06:04.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>I don't have the right kind of personality for my life today</title><content type='html'>I don't do well under stress.  My anxiety genes take over the rational parts of my brain (you know, those parts that recognize that relatively minor annoyances don't constitute cause for large-scale freakouts) and I end up massively overreacting in the worst way.  Take the last 24 hours, for example.  Last night I learned the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Our nanny may not make it back home from Mexico by Monday morning, which is when Luke is supposed to start with her.  We had no backup childcare arranged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-My principal expects us to perform the pedagogical equivalent of performing backflips on a balance beam before learning how to walk, all in the next two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Juan will be working the night we return home from our Christmas vacation, leaving me home alone with a baby who will almost certainly be overstimulated, sleep deprived, and mad as hell at having his schedule so screwed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number three is annoying, but it's just something to get through.  Number two caused me quite a few headaches until I figured out how to juggle a few things around on my calendar to "make it work" this morning.  Number one, however, is what kept me up most of last night, even after getting the names of some highly recommended in-home daycare providers from one of our friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's the uncertainty of these kinds of situations that just kills me.  I don't do well with change as a general rule, and when I'm forced into changing plans (be they big or small) I tend to resist with every last ounce of strength I have.  Professionally and personally this isn't a very good personality trait for me to have (as my colleagues remind me at times like these, flexibility is the name of the game when you work in education) and my inflexible nature then turns every unexpected event into a crisis to stress and obsess over ad nauseum.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have backup childcare set up now, though I don't like it as much as I like our nanny.  The school stuff has been sorted out for the most part, and, well, the Christmas thing is just going to suck.  So why do I still feel like I'm in panic mode?  Why are my nerves on edge and why am I snapping at everyone who dares come near me?  I wish I knew, and I wish I could just turn off whatever part of my personality reacts to stressful situations this way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-8272614105077302275?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/8272614105077302275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=8272614105077302275' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8272614105077302275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/8272614105077302275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-dont-have-right-kind-of-personality.html' title='I don&apos;t have the right kind of personality for my life today'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-508791783428651825</id><published>2007-11-28T17:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-28T17:48:13.592-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='(in)fertility'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>One year ago today...</title><content type='html'>Exactly one year and one day ago I was convinced I wasn't pregnant.  I came home after a long day of work to an empty house since Juan was on call, made some dinner, drank a beer, and started meticulously planning out my next cycle.  It was going to be our 21st--twenty one months since we had started trying to get pregnant.  I was considering taking a break for a cycle or two until our insurance processed the paperwork for my referral to a local RE but hadn't made up my mind one way or another yet.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I ate, I watched some TV and I went to bed.  It was an altogether unremarkable night, but it was also one I'll remember for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly one year ago today I woke up, brushed my teeth, turned on the shower, and (just for the heck of it) took a pregnancy test.  I expected it would be negative--hell, I was testing when Juan wasn't even home, that's how much I was expecting a negative result.  Except...it wasn't negative.  It was positive.  Positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking that I should be crying.  You're supposed to cry when you finally get the one thing you've wanted more than anything else for almost two years, right?  I couldn't cry, though.  All I could do was stare at that test.  Positive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting here now, staring down at Luke, part of me still can't believe that it really happened or that I'm really, finally, a mother.  It's been an amazing journey, and I feel like the luckiest person alive to have taken it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh5.google.com/cmartinezross/RyzOtgASs_I/AAAAAAAAA7w/C7R_8b_hXDw/s41027ca106427_4_0.jpg?imgmax=512"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, little boy.  You were unquestionably worth the wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-508791783428651825?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/508791783428651825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=508791783428651825' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/508791783428651825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/508791783428651825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/one-year-ago-today.html' title='One year ago today...'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4701053567902552239</id><published>2007-11-26T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T19:12:19.907-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='don&apos;t go into the kitchen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage'/><title type='text'>This time the kitchen fire wasn't my fault</title><content type='html'>Juan started a fire in our oven on Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me repeat that for those of you who are now staring at your screen in disbelief.  JUAN started a FIRE in our oven on Thanksgiving.  Juan, not C.  The male half of our relationship started the fire.  The one who never does stupid things in the kitchen almost burned our house down.  That one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can tell from the lighthearted tone of this post, no serious damage was done (except the damage to Juan's food) and we were able to put the tiny fire out in about ten seconds, but still.  I wasn't the one who caused culinary mayhem this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let me rewind things a bit so you can get a full appreciation for what actually went down at our house last Thursday night.  Being a fan of red meat and a decided hater of seafood, Juan responded to my decision to serve lobster for Thanksgiving dinner with a request for something that didn't swim.  Fair enough, so my parents and I prepared our feast while Juan planned his own.  We had lobster, shrimp, snow crab, spanikopita, apple pie, and (just for Juan) steak.  Since there were so many different dishes (all of which had to be served piping hot) and one of us had to juggle Luke since he wasn't napping well that day, we ate in shifts.  My parents and I dug into our lobster while Juan's steak was still broiling in the oven and everything was going very well until Luke needed a diaper change.  Juan checked the steak, decided it needed a few more minutes under the broiler, and took the baby upstairs while my parents and I continued eating. Suddenly, smoke started pouring out of the oven and all the smoke detectors in the house went off at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, scrambling ensued.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, the steak had caught on fire while it was in the oven.  Juan's steak was pretty charred, but some quick moves by my dad managed to save a small corner of it so he still had something to eat for dinner.  The oven appears to be undamaged and we're very, very sure that the smoke detectors work properly, so overall the night wasn't a complete bust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should probably feel bad for crowing a bit over Juan's mishap, but given how much pleasure he's taken from my kitchen catastrophes over the years, it seems only fair for me to take some pleasure from his.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4701053567902552239?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4701053567902552239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4701053567902552239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4701053567902552239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4701053567902552239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-time-kitchen-fire-wasnt-my-fault.html' title='This time the kitchen fire wasn&apos;t my fault'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-6694010720718578429</id><published>2007-11-21T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T16:45:01.027-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cute baby tricks'/><title type='text'>I take it back</title><content type='html'>Something exciting IS happening in our house after all!  My mom and I went to lunch and a movie this afternoon in celebration of her birthday and when we came home my dad told us that he and Luke had a surprise for us.  He propped Luke up with some couch cushions, made a funny noise, and Luke LAUGHED!  My baby laughs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other baby news, Luke slept in his own room, by himself, for the first time last night and did great.  I, on the other hand, hardly slept a wink for worrying about him.  Hopefully tonight is better, otherwise it's going to be a very sleepy Thanksgiving for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-6694010720718578429?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/6694010720718578429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=6694010720718578429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6694010720718578429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/6694010720718578429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-take-it-back.html' title='I take it back'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1034301053714810835</id><published>2007-11-20T19:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T19:44:58.864-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc.'/><title type='text'>Vacation, WOO!!!</title><content type='html'>I'm probably a little too excited about the Thanksgiving break given that I've only been back at work for a week and a half.  I am excited, though, especially since my parents are still in town, Juan's week off starts on Thursday, and we have four delicious lobster tails in the freezer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, I don't have any scintillating stories to share so I'll just wish you all a very happy (early) Thanksgiving.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1034301053714810835?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1034301053714810835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1034301053714810835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1034301053714810835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1034301053714810835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/vacation-woo.html' title='Vacation, WOO!!!'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-4239854559370701242</id><published>2007-11-14T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T20:08:18.328-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><title type='text'>Zzzzzzzzz...</title><content type='html'>Day three and I'm still alive.  Being back at work has been hard.  It's not just leaving Luke (who is doing much better at taking bottles, by the way) but it's also the fact that teaching is physically exhausting even when I'm not operating on 4-5 hours of sleep a night.  I'd sort of forgotten how much energy it takes to jump around a classroom keeping kids engaged for 8 hours a day, and especially given the situation I'm coming back to discipline-wise I can't slack at all while they're in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm tired and will be going to bed now even though tonight is the premiere of Project Runway ans I &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; miss Project Runway.  Better to delay the first "make it work" of 2007 than end up passed out and drooling over my laptop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-4239854559370701242?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/4239854559370701242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=4239854559370701242' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4239854559370701242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/4239854559370701242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/zzzzzzzzz.html' title='Zzzzzzzzz...'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1393512689508188523</id><published>2007-11-12T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T18:54:56.015-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Luke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GAH'/><title type='text'>I came, I saw, I wanted to go home</title><content type='html'>Well, at least I didn't cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first day back was predictably difficult and I spent most of my time feeling discombobulated after spending 6 months out of the classroom.  The kids (who got away with murder during my absence) don't especially like the fact that I'm *gasp!* enforcing the rules, but I think things will settle down in a few weeks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Luke, he spent the day displaying the kind of stubbornness only my child is capable of and refused to eat more than an ounce and a half all day.  Wish us all luck in trying to convince him to take a bottle more readily tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1393512689508188523?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1393512689508188523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1393512689508188523' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1393512689508188523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1393512689508188523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-came-i-saw-i-wanted-to-go-home.html' title='I came, I saw, I wanted to go home'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21457710.post-1306223531210795193</id><published>2007-11-11T15:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T15:35:57.964-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teaching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood will make you crazy'/><title type='text'>I may have a nervous breakdown, but at least I have a stapler</title><content type='html'>I've spent a good 10 hours putting my classroom back together this week (suffice it to say that I am less than thrilled about how my sub took care of it) as a way of focusing my anxiety about going back to work on something other than actual work.  Fretting about the decided lack of a stapler in my room was a lot more appealing than thinking too hard about the fact that I would be away from Luke for at least 9 hours a day starting on Monday.  We put the finishing touches on things this afternoon, and now all that's left is for me to walk in there tomorrow morning prepared to lecture my heart out about the English Renaissance and Elizabethan sonnets.  Either that, or I'll break down in tears before the first bell rings.  Who knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21457710-1306223531210795193?l=thissortafairytale.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/feeds/1306223531210795193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21457710&amp;postID=1306223531210795193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1306223531210795193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21457710/posts/default/1306223531210795193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thissortafairytale.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-may-have-nervous-breakdown-but-at.html' title='I may have a nervous breakdown, but at least I have a stapler'/><author><name>C</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3135/2170/1600/cherry%20tree%204.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
