My weekly vow to turn over a new leaf ...

Another Friday, another pledge to turn over a new leaf. Next week. OK, whether it's promising myself to start working on that stray 5 to 10 pounds, to stay on top of the housework, to prepare better for meals for the next week, it seems each Friday I make myself a promise to start something ... on Monday. This morning, I vowed to start getting to sleep earlier. Starting Monday.
I just keep pushing the time envelope. There are so many things I try and get done in the evenings after the kids go to bed, and around 10 p.m. I think I'm ahead of things and pay more attention to the TV than what I'm doing, then at 11, I remember a few other things I want to get done, then I check my e-mail, feed by son's Webkinz pets, look at the clock and realize it's pushing midnight. So I'm not asleep till 12:30, and since I have to get up at 6 to get my oldest to the bus stop, there goes the day -- it's a guaranteed yawnfest. I blow off morning exercise, climb back into bed, push the alarm to the limit and sleep until I absolutely have to get the kids up and moving.
So starting Monday, I plan to finish everything I need to downstairs by 10. Finish any reading and Internet things I have by 11. In bed, asleep by 11:30.
It'll probably never happen. Oh well. Wrinkles and dark circles add character, right?

What a waste of court time

I know just about everyone has had enough of the Bickersons, a.k.a. Jim and Dina McGreevey, but my latest revulsion with their whole public divorce/outing/custody battle is -- how could they get, in a moment's notice, a court date over a birthday party?
Come on. Jim planned a birthday party, with clowns, ponies and all the kids in her school invited. Dina apparently reluctantly agreed to her daughter going to the party, but -- in an e-mail from last week -- objects to her staying the whole weekend because it would be the third weekend in a row she stayed with her dad and his partner. A Union County Superior Court judge will consider birthday party-gate in court today.
Think you or I would get a court hearing over a birthday party so quickly? I want to throw up. All the clowns and ponies in the world couldn't make that kid's life any less weird.

UPDATE: The judge is letting the kid go to the party, but looks like the rest of the weekend is with her mom. To see the updated story today, go to Judge to battling McGreeveys: Let daughter have her party

Baby, it's cold outside. A week ago today, my family was in Disney World's Magic Kingdom, where we spent 13 expensive hours. We only had three days to "do" Disney this year in a very last-minute vacation. Two days before we left, I was online comparing ticket prices and decided to buy the 10-day ticket (at a WalMart down there, saved me about $70 for the six of us) then upgrade the tickets at Disney so they have no expiration. That added $180 to each ticket. But when I figured it out, what we spent per 10-day unexpired ticket was about double the price of a three-day ticket. So we'll get at least two more vacations out of the investment.

I was telling a dad -- who has very young children and hasn't gone to Disney with them yet -- about my long-term ticket investment and he said, "Are you really going to want to go that much?" He admitted he had only been there once, when he was about 18, and couldn't see wanting to go more than once with his family.

Not so. It's so different seeing it through your kids' eyes. My 4-year-old was a real trip to watch, he was so thrilled with everything. And my daughters, who can remember our trip from two years ago, had an absolute blast. Even our teen was a good sport, taking my older daughter on the roller coasters while we took the little ones to their attractions. At one point, as my daughter and I were using our "Fast Pass" on Space Mountain, we were holding hands, running up the ramp and giggling to each other about how we almost felt guilty passing a few hundred people waiting on the regular line. I half expected to look at our reflection and see myself at her age, similar to the Disney commercials on TV now.

So yes, I can't wait to take another trip there. We were talking with friends last night about doing a group trip.

And my kids have many more years of "Disneying" to do.

We're moving!

OK, the Press is launching its new Web site today. It looks pretty cool, but change is always a bit frightening. I'm still figuring it out myself, but it will give readers the chance to start their own blogs, set up their own profile pages and the like. Check it out, it's going to take over the www.app.com site this afternoon.
I have to admit, I'm awfully resistant to change. I'm always surprised when that change turns out to be for the better, or makes my life or job more convenient, as it inevitably does.
If you've got a copy of today's paper, page A8 is a full-page description of how the new Web site works, allowing you to submit photos, how it will provide better hometown type service, more multimedia and the like. But the best way to get into it is just to do it: visit the www.app.com site starting this afternoon, search around with it and have fun.

What part of "drop off" is hard to understand?

I have few pet peeves -- people talking on cell phones in public restrooms is my big one, but poor etiquette on "drop-off" car lines is another.
I negotiate with four separate drop-off lines each week. The high school bus 6:15 drop-off, the grammar school drop-off line two hours later, the preschool drop-off line shortly after that one, and the weekly Sunday School drop-off. The bus line's a breeze, the preschool line is well-managed by the school staff who make sure it keeps moving. The grammar school line moves pretty well, with kids unbuckling, grabbing their bags and exiting the front few cars quickly -- 30 seconds max -- so their parents can drive off and the line can move up. Most people understand the etiquette involved with dozens of cars waiting to move along, but it still has its rare annoyances. Occasionally, we'll have someone sneak up on the left to the front of the line and cut in, but the glares -- and potential for social ostracism -- from the other parents who have been waiting patiently often prevent a second offense. There are the few parents who drop off their kids but sit in line until their kid is in the door, down the hall and in the classroom before they feel OK about getting out ... that kind of annoys me, if you want to wait until your children are in the door, stay on the line until you get closer to the front before telling them to hop out, or park elsewhere and walk them to the door!
I heard more than a few parents grumbling on a recent day when a mom with three kids in the car took a couple of minutes to unload them and their backpacks, blocking everyone behind them from moving forward in the usually quick line. In my many years of driving my kids to school, I've never seen anyone take this long, it was as if they were still getting dressed and packing their stuff up in the car. Then the mom walked each one to the door under an umbrella, even though each child was well covered with rain gear and it's only about 20 feet to the door. A few car horns sounded, not mine, although I empathized with the frustrated parents who had several minutes before the late bell when they started on the line and now were glancing anxiously at their watches. If your children aren't old enough to walk to the door from the car, park in the nearby parking lot and walk them.
But the Sunday School line has me tempted to forget that we're there for religious reasons. There is a designated drop-off line in the "no parking" zone alongside the school. But several parents have decided it's an extended parking lot. They get out, walk their kids into the school and to their classrooms, returning several minutes later. There's only room for about a dozen cars in this line, it's meant for parents whose children are old enough to walk to their classrooms themselves. Mine are now. Yet many times, I'll pull up behind someone, then see the parent get out, lock the car and head inside. Now I'm blocked, and I have to wait for the person behind me to leave, throw my car in reverse, all while watching for the parents who've rightly parked in the lot, choosing to walk their younger children to the classroom.
None of these things will ruin my life. There are worse things in the world. But I suppose our pet peeves allow us a little time to vent about silly things -- like me today -- so we don't explode when the bigger ones hit.

Happy Turkey Sligo Day!

Thank God for Kelly's Tavern, or else it would have been mac 'n cheese for Thanksgiving dinner for the McDowell family. After four hectic days in Florida, we flew home yesterday afternoon, arriving back at the homestead about 6. But with my folks out of town at my sister's, nobody planned a big family dinner for the holiday. Since I knew we were going to be out of town, I didn't bother grocery shopping for the week before leaving, using up what we had and planning to restock the shelves when we got home.
Coming up the Parkway, I was envisioning a holiday dinner from our local Chinese restaurant, a la "A Christmas Story" and dropped the family off before heading out to find our feast. But even the Chinese restaurants in the area were closed. Foodtown was closed. KFC, Popeyes, anything else fast food -- closed. Driving past Kelly's, I saw cars and pulled in. Seems they opened up at 6 with a full kitchen. So it was chicken nuggets and fries for the kids, sandwiches for the men and the dinner I used to make road trips in college for -- turkey sligo, had to get my turkey and cranberry in somehow -- for me.
Cleanup was a breeze and no leftovers (although there's nothing like a "leftover sandwich" of turkey, cranberry, stuffing and mayo) to deal with. Happy Day After Turkey Day!!

Fitting in fitness

How do you make time for physical fitness? I usually try and go jogging or walking in the early mornings, before my husband leaves for work and the get-ready-for-school rush begins. It's a pain getting up -- I'm definitely not a morning person. But it's nice to get it all over with. This week I've been lax, and last night, to my surprise, my teenager said he wanted to go running. He hasn't in a year, and since he decided not to play soccer this year, as thin as he is, he's out of shape for running.
I asked if he wanted me to go with him and he said "Sure." So we went. He was at least a block ahead of me after the first half mile. Then he stopped and waited. Then at our turnaround point he stopped and waited again. Then he said he couldn't go anymore. His legs were killing him, he was tired, and all I kept thinking was, "Slow and steady wins the race!" I got him to keep going, but at my turtle pace. Finally, just shy of the three-mile point, he gave up and walked. I kept going. Slow and steady, OK, REALLY slow, but I was home first.
I hope he decides to get back into exercise, even if it's just to get home before me.

To snoop or not?

Do you snoop? Would you, if you were worried about something? When discussing the teenage drinking editorials with colleagues, one said that many of her teenager's friends parents see snooping -- looking into e-mails, myspace or cell phone texts -- as an invasion of their child's privacy. Hogwash.
For the most part, I DON'T WANT to be privy to the conversations among teenagers, especially those that focus on how their parents just don't understand them. I don't want to read "I hate my parents" because I know it's not true, so why look for something that I know is just typical teenage rant? My parents didn't understand me, I'm sure their parents didn't understand them. Teenagers just don't realize that we felt the same way, and they won't, so who wants to hear them making the same complaints about us that we made about our parents?
But if I have a concern, I'll snoop. Went into his backpack looking for cigarettes. Read text messages when I was concerned about a party, and tried to filter out by just glossing over those that didn't involve what I was looking for, because again, I remember being a teen. Don't want to relive it, it's his time to be a teen.
I don't snoop regularly ... as a matter of fact, that was the only time I went through his text messages, and I found what I was looking for and was able to take action and prevent what I wanted to prevent, without being "detected."
A friend of mine's son was upset for reading his AIM messages, but he left them up on the computer. And she also has a house rule -- anything written on the Internet is subject to her review. How can they argue with that?

Mall meltdown

Ever get that "I'm a horrible mother" feeling during a child's public meltdown? I did something REALLY stupid on Saturday. My younger daughter still had about $35 worth of gift cards for Target left over from her birthday, and I had been promising all week she could finally go redeem them on Saturday. My plan was a shopping trip with just her. Then, since my husband got called into work, I figured I'd take all four kids.
HUGE mistake. Never take a 4-year-old to the toy section of a store -- for a long period of time, which I didn't quite expect -- if you've got no cash or credit cards on you. The little guy just didn't understand at all.
It took my daughter, assisted by my other daughter, about a half hour to narrow down her choices to the top five or six favorites.
During that time, my little guy befriended a stuffed turtle that cost about $12. My daughter finally found something that was above a sign that said "29.99." I persuaded the little guy to say goodbye to the turtle, and we headed up to pay, then the item scanned at $89.95. Seems someone changed their mind in the aisle and put this particular toy where it wasn't supposed to go. Augh. So we went back. As my daughter rethought her choices, the little guy revisited the turtle, and soon the two were inseparable. "Pweez mommy? I miss him!" My repeating, "No," telling him I had no money anyway, and that he could ask Santa was useless.
Then the tearful departure from the toy aisle turned into a full-blown crying-going-limp-making-other-shoppers-look-sympathetically situation. And a few looks that said, "Why don't you just buy him what he wants?" I didn't know whether to drag him out or sit down and cry with him. In the end, we managed to get him in the car -- him screaming and tears pouring the whole way, and me about to join him. My teen got a good lesson on why he should wait many years before considering fatherhood.
Then the little guy was "over it" almost as soon as we were out of the parking lot.
I'm still recuperating. Ugh. I hate meltdowns.

Belle of the band

If your kids take music lessons, how did you determine the instrument? Both my girls took piano for awhile, but my younger daughter decided she wanted to learn guitar instead, and she's really enjoying it. My older daughter still takes piano -- I don't even have to ask her to practice -- and now she's eligible to join the school band this year. She decided it was something she wanted to do, but she wasn't sure which instrument. She was considering the clarinet, but I wasn't sure if it was because her friends were signing up for it or if she was truly interested. Actually, I know someone who has one we could borrow, so it seemed like it might work. But since she's committing for at least a full year, I wanted her to be sure, so we dove into "youtube." I called up a few videos of each of the instruments. She got hooked on the idea of playing the alto sax.
I don't know anybody with a spare alto sax. Of course, it's the most expensive to rent as well -- $80 for three months, $200 for nine.
Hooray for e-Bay. I found one for $170, plus $40 for shipping. It arrived, looks good and even if it's not top-of-the-line, my daughter's not even 10. If she decides after this year that she doesn't want to play it anymore, she's got two younger siblings. The cool thing is she's the only one from her grade to sign up for the sax, so until she catches up to the half dozen or so kids from the upper grades, she'll be getting lessons on her own.
The smile on her face when she saw her sax for the first time was worth the investment alone. I hope it has "staying power" with her.

Parting is such sweet sorrow ... until they're teens

Leaving the house alone -- even to run to the grocery store -- can be a battle. As much as I love the kids, the little ones can be a pain to shop or run quick errands with. There's a brief window when they want to shop with you and it's a joy to have them, then they hit the teen years and they'd rather shop with their friends anyway. "I'll be right back," usually gets little more response than a "hm" kind of grunt from my teenager.
When I'm running out for a quick visit to a store, the younger ones are the ones who always slow my exit. From out of nowhere, I'll hear, "WAAAAIIITTT!" and from the other end of the house, in comes running my 4-year-old. He doesn't necessarily want to go with me -- thank goodness, because he's in that early category of being difficult to shop with. But he has to have a hug and kiss before I leave, even if I'm only going for 5 or 10 minutes. Ya gotta love that. It only lasts so long. My 8 and 9 year olds are in the middle category -- it's kind of fun to bring them along, but only if it's one at a time. If I bring them both, they'll bicker, or team up to try and get me to buy stuff, or try to wander in different directions, and away from where I want to go.
I do like taking them separately ... gives a little one-on-one time, whether it's food shopping, running out to pay bills or pick up other household items or clothes shopping.
But there's many times when I just want to go alone, only have a couple of things to get at a store and I want to get out fast, and don't want a 10-minute trip to get dragged on for a half hour as I listen to, "Can we get this?" "Can you buy that?" the whole time. That's when I try to sneak out, indicatng to my husband via hand signals that I'm running out. Occasionally, I get caught by my younger daughter, who absolutely loves to shop and has caught on to my sneaky grocery shopping trips. There's nothing like a sad face in the window to tug on my heart. And, to get me to "give in," pull back into the driveway and signal her to come along.
It works almost every time.

Kids eat free!

We're becoming regular customers at Boston's in Neptune on Tuesday nights ... love the "Kids Eat Free" nights at restaurants, and Kelci and Sydney are there each week to make balloon animals and toys. Their balloon sword is a big hit with my 4-year-old, and they also draw cute tattoos -- although the skulls and crossbones my daughters insisted on last night raised an eyebrow or two! We usually go with a few other couples and their kids, and it's an effort to bring the kids' excitement level down, especially with the balloon swords tempting them into battle.
It's nice, save the tipping for the balloon/tattoo artists, to be able to go to dinner and pay what we would if we went out alone. Only other difference is, well, we're constantly yelling at the kids to sit back down after they've made one of their many visits to Kelci and Sydney's table. When we're out to dinner other nights, the kids get fully involved in their coloring books or whatever we've got to keep them sitting still. Balloon art ads a whole new dimension to dining out. Nothing like a 4-year-old with a balloon sword deciding to challenge the waiter to a duel. Fortunately, the waiters and waitresses have the patience of saints. So do Kelci and Sydney. Hopefully, so do the people sitting near us.

Hey Abby! What were ya thinkin'??

I have to admit, among my favorite things to read in the paper are ... the advice columns. LOVE Carolyn Hax on Sundays and Wednesdays -- and I always like to see what problems are vexing people in Dear Abby. By the time I get home from work, I've read all the political and local news. After the kids are in bed, it's time for Abby and the Sudoku puzzle. Now, I'm not going to comment on Abby often, but occasionally an answer will blow me away. Yesterday's was one. I think the old Abby would've answered differently than her daughter's response.
A woman wrote in to say that her 27-year-old brother died two years ago, and since then, her parents have become very close with two young couples who were his closest friends, and insist on inviting them to every holiday party. The sister called herself "Disgusted Hostess," complaining that these couples (at least one of them has a baby) come late, leave early and never bring anything to contribute, and barely talk to her husband. New Abby agreed, saying these people should be told about etiquette, and if they didn't shape up, they should no longer be invited.

Come on. These couples probably have two other sets of families each to visit -- his and hers. I think she should be gracious that they make time to visit with their friend's parents two years after he passed away, just to make those parents happy. So what if they don't bring a Bundt? (Great scene in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding.")
Come late and leave early? Who cares! So what if they don't make small talk to her husband. Maybe he's a pill. They're bringing a spot of happiness to her parents -- who the writer herself calls "emotionally fragile." Let 'em. They eat and run, she complains. Doesn't that tell her they have other places to be?
The only point I thought she made that was acceptable was that her mother insists on holding dinner for them. She should tell her mom to forget that part. They're probably not hungry, especially if they're family-party hopping. They can always heat up something if they are. My husband's family is in Oklahoma, so we don't have to juggle who we're spending the holidays with. And with little kids, it's still hard to get everyone together, on track and to our destination on time. I think the two young couples deserve appreciation, not criticism.

Drug testing idea won't work

Did you see the article in Friday's paper about a legislative candidate's idea that all teenagers should be drug-tested before they are able to receive driving permits and driver's licenses? The article says Democrat John Villapiano, who is running against Republican Assemblyman Sean Kean for the 11th District Senate seat, said testing the teenagers could lead to reduced drug use among young people and cut the number of accidents caused by drivers under the influence of drugs.
Actually, all such a mandate will do is waste a lot of money. Teens aren't stupid. If they know they're due to take a drug test before they get their permit and/or license, they'll either refrain for a short time just before the test, or find out how to beat the drug tests. I've heard of plenty of people who were able to pass drug tests shortly after using. I'm not sure how, but I'm sure it can be done.
That's why I think this is a boneheaded idea. It'll cost a fortune, and the kids will be well forewarned that the test is coming up. The article says that Villapiano said he arrived at the idea after observing that traditional ways to keep teens off drugs aren't working.
I don't think this will work either. And as cynical as I've become, all I can wonder is, who will be making the profit on testing every teenager who wants a driver's license?
You can read the full story at Proposal: Drug tests for teenage drivers

Here's one to miss

A police officer friend of mine sent me a link to a Snopes.com posting about a movie, starring Nicole Kidman, due to be released in December called "The Golden Compass." After reading the post, I don't think we'll be rushing to get tickets. The author is an avowed atheist, and many reviewers see his books as pushing that agenda, that the aim is to discredit the God he doesn't believe in. One reviewer, who called author Philip Pullman "the most dangerous author in Britain," said he is the writer "the atheists would have been praying for, if atheists prayed."
Most disturbing are claims that the intended December release of the movie, the first in a trilogy, is aimed to get unsuspecting parents to purchase the books ... and in the third, the two children wind up killing God.
Here's the link to the Snopes.com item that says Pullman's books have an anti-religion theme ... I think I'll avoid this author's books and movies.

Snopes on: The Golden Compass

Halloween's "hangover"

My family's "hangover" today has nothing to do with booze, little to do with sugar, and EVERYTHING to do with Halloween craziness. It started Tuesday night when we T.P'd our own front yard for mischief night. We went out to eat, and when we got home and pulled in the driveway, there was a young teen girl lying down on our front lawn. At first I was a bit concerned, but she must have been worried that the oncoming headlights were police, so when her friends scattered, she must have figured if she got close to the ground, they wouldn't see her. Then we pulled into the driveway. She looked surprised as she sat up, then ran away. No damage to our house, so we had to do all the toilet papering ourselves. The little kids got a kick out of it, looking for the police themselves, wondering if they'd get in any trouble.

Yesterday, we greeted trick or treaters for a few hours, then we went to the town Halloween costume contest in the evening. I love seeing the creativity some people have. I have none in that department. We had a devil, a vampire and a Power Ranger. Compared to a kid who comes as a pint of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream? Oh well.
The kids trick or treated their hearts out after, and on top of driving around visiting family and friends, we didn't get back in the house until almost 9, then there was the round of showers to rinse out hairspray and makeup, and by that time, they were pooped ... made it into bed around 10, with only a slight amount of candy in their tummies, since we never stopped moving.

Getting 'em up this morning was another matter, particularly the 4-year-old. I let him stay curled up in bed while I got his sisters ready for school, then he wouldn't get out so we could drive them over. The Post Halloween Battle of 2007 began. Now, I have new neighbors moving in. I haven't met them yet. I'm not even sure which of the people who have been in and out in the last several days are the ones who will live there. But this morning at 8:19, the ones who were walking in and out got a sight: Me, in my bathrobe and a pair of work heels that were by the door, carrying a screaming 4-year-old in a T-shirt and Power Ranger underpants to the car while my daughters struggled to get their backpacks in at the same time. I had a blanket slung over my shoulder to wrap around him for the 5-minute drive. And the little guy was loud. Really loud.
Welcome to the neighborhood. We're not always this bad.