FlipSide:Starting May 28, 2001

A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

All and all, a lovely day. The sun was shining, the temperature was in the mid-70s, it was Monday, and I was not at work. It doesn't get much better than that. (Unless of course, I win the lottery, than hell, I can do waaayyyyyy better than this, but let's stay in the realm of reality here.)

Warning, cute kids pictures await you past this point. If you have eaten alot of sugar today, you may want to check your blood sugar level before proceeding. Okay, you have been warned.

	This is Mr. Music Appreciation and the she that is the owner of the music makers he appreciates. Also known as Todd and Jodi. I have had a new, albeit late, entrant into the name that man contest but since the person making the entry is cute and 6, she's allowed. Dayna has dubbed him "Buster". We met Todd, Jodi, her daughter Dayna and his son Jarrod at French Regional Park in Plymouth. A beautiful park on the shores of Medicine Lake. Jodi and Todd got their on time, as opposed to those of us on "Dominik Time", so they got a choice shady spot by the lake with 2 picnic tables and a grill. And man, can that guy grill. We brought the steaks, burgers, and dogs, and he put some kind of marinade on the steaks that made them wonderful. I wasn't going to eat one, but I couldn't resist. Good thing I don't have to go to WW this week (since my meeting is on Mondays and Monday is a holiday this week, I luck out. Yet another good reason to go to a meeting on Mondays.)
Since the day was so nice, we decided to bring the kids' bikes. Rhiannon and Jack rode around the path in front of our picnic spot. Rhiannon was nice enough to share her bike with Dayna, so no one felt left out. I hope.
	Since Rhiannon is 7 now, we are trying to get away from the training wheels. We had some success today, but Rhiannon has some issues with balance and speed. Her problem is mostly that she is afraid to go too fast for fear she will fall. However, a certain amount of speed is required to maintain one's balance on the bike. Hence her problem and her ass over teacups pose.
Every picture I got of Todd and Dayna today had her on top of him. You can see who is running this relationship. Jodi is training her well. Teach 'em young, that's what I always say.
	Jodi and Dayna together. Jodi says her hair was just as red when she was little (as was mine) so I guess we know what color her hair will be when she grows up. Dayna is a very polite little girl. She even let Rhiannon pretend she was running the show. But from the picture above, I think we all know who really was in control.
Jarrod is Todd's 14 year old son. When need to do more stuff with Todd and Jarrod. Jarrod kept taking the kids off and watching them (to the beach, to the playground, etc.) without being asked. I love this kid!!! Of course, once he had shown his willingness to play with them, the poor kids was, well, he was finished. One 14 year old boy, even one who is 6'2", is no match for 3 determined kids. And just what were they so determined to get to you ask?
	Welcome to Kid Nirvana. The big ass playground. It had towers, it had slides, it had trampoline type nets for the kids to climb on and on and on and on . . .You would think my kids were be exhausted and slumbering peacefully, wouldn't you? NOT. However, I am sure poor Jarrod is out like a light.

Well, I am off to move all my plant potting accoutrements from my bedroom deck to my living room deck so not to tick off Hulk Hogan downstairs. (However, the plants stay where they are. The bedroom deck is south east facing, very good light. The living room deck is east facing.) You know, the more I think on that, the more it ticks me off, but I said I would move the stuff and so I will. But so help me, he complains again, I'm going to tell him at least I answer my door when he comes and knocks, he doesn't even answer his when his surround sound TV is so damn loud my pictures are shaking on the walls. You're on the bottom floor, dude, and it's outside, you are going to get stuff on your deck. Get over yourself. His main complaint seems to be they let the cats out on that deck and if there is dirt and/or water on the deck they track it in. Duh. Again, it is outside. If you expect pristine living conditions, buy a house and build yourself a three season porch. Deep calming breaths, mediate on the beauty of nature, of the beauty of plants, of the beauty of a very large wood tick sucking the life blood from Hulk's neck . . . ahh, I feel better now.

Jeez, I hate days like these. Jack woke up and was as owly as as a bear with a thorn in his paw. After giving it some thought, I think he was still coming down from all the sugar he consumed at the picnic yesterday. He consumed roughly 1/2 a pan of Rice Krispie Treats, 2-3 cans of orange soda, chocolate cake, and the odd cookie or two. Small wonder the child didn't want to sleep last night or wake this morning. This is, of course, coupled with the fact that Jack always hates going back to school after a long weekend. He always wants to spend more time with Mommy. By contrast, Rhiannon was all bright and cheery. However much I despise perky morning people, it sure beats her normal surly, putzy Monday morning self.

Missed my normal bus, partially due to Jack's surliness, partially due to the fact that in my haste to herd my brood out the door, I forgot my phone. Since I was planning to work late, my phone was a necessity. I have an actuarial book going out tomorrow, so I was at the office until 6 getting tabs ready for the book. Then I had to drop end of the year Girl Scout paperwork at the registrar's house, so I didn't actually walk through the door until 7:30 or so. I had called John and told him to feed the kids the corn dogs we had in the freezer. Thus, I spared my offspring the fruit of their father's kitchen labors.

I am really tired tonight. I hate it when I am this tired, 'cause then I eat without paying the slightest attention what I put in my mouth. It had started at work. And I don't have the energy to move all my plant potting stuff and pot some plants tonight. Can't upset the Hulkster, ya' know. Calming breaths. . . ponder the infinite nature of the universe, the mysteries of the ancients, the mysteriously infinite butt-headedness of certain individuals . . .

Well, the book made it out and I am still coherent (sort of). We will need to head to the grocery store tonight, as we are running out of essentials, like milk and cheese. Yes, we are a dairy loving family here at the Dominik hacienda.

Jodi reminded me today of a discussion we had on Monday with Todd (aka Mr. Saturday Night) and John regarding, well, parts. The conversation started off with the hot dog he and his son had gotten at the Twins game on Sunday. It seems it was a very large 'dog. About 2 feet long and a foot wide. I was wondering if this was another case of male exaggeration (and they wonder why women have trouble with dimensions) but was assured that by Todd's hand gestures that the 'dogs were indeed just that large. "Large enough to make a woman blush" was the phrase of the day. Ahh, I see. Then he went on to lament the condition of his "lower unit". (Blink blink. Did he say lower unit? Does he mean what I think he means, especially on top of the large 'dog conversation?) He and John went to great pains to try to explain about the shaft the connects the motor to gears and goes into the propeller. At which point Jodi and I explode into giggles and she wants to know when her nickname became propeller? Okay, I admit our minds did go into the gutter there, but, come on, first he is talking about a wiener to make a woman blush and then we get a lower unit and shafts. Don't tell me your mind would remain completely clean, Snow White. Oh fine. I'm just a bad influence, then. I am the one your mother warned you about.

Speaking of faux pauxes, John made one of his own today. Lamenting his choices of social activity for tomorrow, he said the following.
"Gee, what choices...

1) home with my wife and kids,

2) dinner with my current co-workers, or

3) presentation by Microsoft, launching Office XP

Gee, if I could work in a root canal somewhere, I'd still have only one preferred choice."

Hmmm . . . I would like to think his lovely wife and adoring children rank a wee bit higher on the scale than root canal. Get me some pliers, honey, and I'll save you the dentist's bill.
(Ed - I was stating the simple fact that no matter how irritating my children OR my wife are, any evening at home with them beats the alternatives - ALL the alternatives. Or, it used to. Now I wonder... Just kidding, dear -- jd)

However, my beloved is trying to make up for this. He is going to go to Home Depot this weekend to get some indoor/outdoor carpet for the deck so the Hulkster will stay at his own place and stop pounding on my door when some dirt gets on his deck. Now, if I could just manage to drop a large pot on his head with enough force . . .

Well, at least the work week is over for me. Tomorrow is the last day of school and one of the house traditions is that Rhiannon gets dropped off and picked up from school on that last day, so I took tomorrow off. This year, she has upped the ante. This year, she wants, Mom, Dad, and Jack to join her for lunch at school. At my advanced age, I thought I was done eating school food. I put in my 12 years of school food (college food was good, nuns and monks can cook. Then again, there are very few physical pleasures you are allowed in religious life, so I would guess you would get very very good at those you are allowed to practice) now she wants me to eat it again?! Well, at least it isn't beef and gravy over mashed potatoes day. Tomorrow is sub sandwiches. Kinda hard to mess those up. But they eat ungodly early. The 1st graders have lunch at about 10:30. Jeez, sometimes at 10:30 I am still working on my breakfast. Hmmm . . . maybe I will just let Jack eat and I will pass.

We have yet to negotiate if John is going to take the kids to school in the morning and let me sleep. I think I will let him do it, although, in a way, I would like to take her. She takes such joy out of displaying her parents. Ah, soon that will change and she will want me to drop her at school a block a way so her friends don't see her geeky Mom dropping her off. Sigh, I remember when I was cool.

Plans for the weekend are pretty mellow. We will go to Home Depot to get some indoor/outdoor carpet for the deck to appease the Hulkster. He apparently has continued his complaining to the office, 'cause today there was a message on my answering machine. A rather apologetic young man from the office left a message saying my neighbor keeps complaining about water and dirt on his deck so could we maybe get some indoor/outdoor carpet? John is in the process of writing a letter saying "Sure, but we will deduct it from our rent and, of course, provide you with the receipt. Oh, and by the way, he doesn't answer his door when we go down there to complain that his surround sound TV is rattling the pictures on our walls, so I guess will just have to start calling the police about it. Oh and by the way, we don't appreciate him coming up here and attempting to intimidate whoever answers the door. The last time it was our kids." That should make him even more popular than he is right now. I hope this ends it, but I am not all that hopeful. John pointed out that when those carpets get saturated by rain, they drip and drip and drip. He'll just love that. At least I won't feel like I am walking on eggshells whenever I go water my plants. Last night I was so tired and had a headache and just decided I would forgo the stress. Tonight I went out there and watered them and my hands shook whenever water splashed outside a pot. And then, my beloved husband locked the door so I couldn't get back in. (by accident, my hand to God - jd.)

Rhiannon has a birthday party (again) this weekend. That kid has more of a social life that I do. Since John had a work function tonight, I took the kids out for pizza at Pizza Hut (the Twisty Crust Pizza was a bit salty for me) and then to Target. Rhiannon need to pick out birthday presents and a present for her teacher. Jack also needed to get one for his teacher, who is going on a 3 month leave of absence after 17 years. We have been teasing her that Jack already drove her away and she has only had him for a couple of weeks. Hopefully she will be back in the fall, she is taking the summer off to decide if she still wants to do this. I don't blame her, reassessing your life can be a very good thing.

I hate all this stress. Not only for the uncertainty of everything, but the fact that when I am stressed I eat. And eat. And eat. It is frustrating. John's office still has not given him any idea of when they will be letting him go and what the severance package is. I am fairly confident that it won't be until the end of August, but still, we can't even begin to plan until we know just what is going to happen.

Looks like the nurses' strike in the Twin Cities may be averted, at least at most of our hospitals. The issue appears not so much to be pay as to be staffing issues, as in the hospitals are, the nurses feel, running an insufficient number of nurses per shift. Now while I agree with their complaints, I have somewhat of a problem with them going on strike. People's lives are at stake here. I sincerely hope they can come to an agreement soon. In the meantime, if you are visiting the Twin Cities for any reason, if you get sick, make sure any hospital you are going to is fully staffed.

Well, today was a very fun day. John took the kids to school this morning so I got to sleep in a bit. I got up with them and got the gifts for the teachers ready for them and helped get everyone out the door in one piece. And then, headed back to bed to do my favorite thing when I have a day off and I am home alone. Put on the Today Show and doze off and on through it. Sounds mundane, I know, but it is amazing what ordinary sounding things are attractive when you don't get have the opportunity to do them very often.

I managed to drag my sorry bones out of bed in time for a shower before I needed to get to CWLC to pick up Jack so he could go have lunch with his sister. We made it to the school by 10:30, which is the ungodly early hour that the 1st graders have lunch. Of course, when you have 8 grades to feed, you need to start early, plus they start school at 7:45, so they are getting hungry by 10:30. Today's lunch was supposed be an outdoor picnic with sub sandwiches. Unfortunately, as Jack and I were pulling up a rather heavy downpour started. The sun had been shining only a few minutes before. That kind of sums up our weather here today.

After I dropped Jack back at school, I headed to the mall to pick up our traditional school's out big decorated cookie. Today's was an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie with pink and yellow icing that read "Good Bye 1st Grade." While they were baking the cookie, I headed up for a haircut. I got a just a little taken off the length and now it kinda flips up and is just past shoulder length. John's only reaction was "It's short!" Short, harumph. I have had my hair cut above the ears, and now he says that hair just below is my shoulders is "short". I think the man needs a reality check. Maybe I should cut it really short and see what he says. He'd probably think I was practically bald.

Today was apparently garage sale Friday in Burnsville. Rhiannon, still seeking to impress all and sundry with her ability to read, announced from the back seat that she had never been to a garage sale and would like, for her final after school activity of her first grade year, to go garage-sale-ing. Okay, well, a friend of mine (and Rhiannon's) lives in one of the neighborhoods that was having garage sales, so we drove through on the off-chance that she was having one. Sure enough, she was. Rhiannon immediately ran off to play with Ashley (which, for some reason, Rhiannon chooses to pronounces with three syllables instead of two - "Ash a Lee"). So much for her first garage sale experience. I bought a couple of things and, leaving her to play with her friend since the sun had come out and it was now lovely out, headed off to find some jeans for Jack, as he has made a sudden growth spurt. The jeans that I bought for him just 2 months ago are now "high water pants". So, after spending a grand total of $3, I had 4 pairs of jeans in Jack's size.

I headed back to pick up Jack at daycare and noticed the sky looked a bit black to the north. The ladies at the last sale I was at mentioned some bad weather farther north, but I hadn't thought anything of it since it was so beautiful out. Until I saw the clouds. By the time I had completed the 5 minute drive to daycare, it had begun to rain. By the time I got Jack out of daycare it was raining hard. On the way back to Maggie's it was hailing. We dashed into the garage and managed to avoid getting pelted. After about 1/2 an hour, the storm has wrung itself out and it was again sunny and warm. This warm and sunny, then cold and rainy mix has continued all night.

Maggie and I decided we didn't want to cook, so once John got there, we loaded up the kids and headed for the Hog Trough, also known Old Country Buffet. The kids ate like little piggies, I think they each made about 2 or 3 turns through the dessert line. Then, after we managed to pry the children apart, we headed home to play their new Trouble game (gotta love a 75 cent game) and eat some cookie. Now that the kids are in bed, I am watching Notting Hill, one of my all time favorite movies. And, since it is raining on and off, I don't need to go water my plants and take the chance of having another visit from the Hulkster. Speaking of that doo-doo-head, John talked to the office today, and explained to them that the outdoor carpet will only be a temporary solution, as when that carpet is saturated by rain, like it would have been today, it will drip drip drip on his deck and he will again be unhappy. Since the complex does not want to pay for a rubber backed carpet, we will buy a carpet, but will not spend more than $20-30. We will give them the receipt and next time he goes down there to complain, they will tell him it is his turn to do something, like put plastic or something else over the top of his deck if he is so upset by the weather here in Burnsville. The complex manager agreed and basically said she had tried to explain to him that that is part of why he pays less rent being on the ground floor, but he is not exactly a reasonable man. (Gee, I'm so shocked by this observation. And here I was thinking he was a candidate for the diplomatic corp.) So, it seems the complex is entirely on our side and when he complains again (and you know he will) he will be told to basically, well, bugger off and deal with it. In fact, John even got in a little shot about the loud television and him not answering his door about that. And, of course, his attempts to intimidate me with his size. I don't think he will be well received next time he visits the office. Tsk tsk. Am I vengeful and vindictive? You bet your sweet bippy, I am. (You know, that is another one of those sayings. Just what exactly is a "bippy"? And where would you bet it? Does it have a monetary value or would it merely be something you take out in trade?)

I feel much better now. The climax of our day was the solution of the deck dilemma. About 9:30 tonight, John finished tacking down the lovely blue outdoor carpet on our deck. That should keep the dirt and water off the Hulkster's deck. Until, of course, we get a good soaking rain. Then the carpet will drip on his deck. When he complains, the office is going to tell him it is his turn to do something to solve the problem. I swear, he comes up here and tries to intimidate us again, I'm going to tell him to stay away or I will have him charged with harassment. I spend some very peaceful time out on the deck this evening, watering my plants and just generally enjoying them. Hopefully my stress level will go down a little now.

Other than that, our day was fairly uneventful. Took Rhiannon to a birthday part at the gymnastics club (where the owner had apparently forgotten the party and was out plowing at his farm. He was 45 minutes late getting there, so the party was free for the birthday girl.) Rhiannon got an invitation to another birthday party, but it is, unfortunately the same weekend we will be in Breezy Point, so she is not going to be able to go. Not only does the kid have more of a social life, she gets more mail than I get. My mail is bills and bank statements and advertisements. She gets cards and letters and invitations. I wanna be 7 again.

And Jack was fractious and disobedient. That kid was testing both the boundaries and my patience. At one point, John looked at Jack and said, "You know what happens when you exhaust your mother's patience? You're left with me!" Jack straightened up a little after that. A little. We got some blue rope lights to hang above his bunk bed so he would be less inclined to come and climb into bed with us. If it doesn't work, they will look nice on the deck with the new carpet.

Tomorrow I have children's liturgy, without my usual partner. This weekend is her husband's 40th birthday, so she isn't able to make it. Oh well. Since it is summer, I am hoping there won't be as many kids. If there are, oh well, I will survive.

Well, I am lacking in inspiration tonight, so, as a result, I am inflicting on you, my faithful readers, my day in pictures.

	The big news of the day, we have mastered the dreaded two-wheeler. Okay, Rhiannon mastered the two-wheeler, I, myself, have been riding two-wheelers for better than 25 years now. You can knock off the math, I'm 34, I'm not hiding my age. Yet.
Of course, this momentous accomplishment did not come without some pain. For all involved. When we first started today (after what my husband refers to as "the Burnsville Death March" to the park), Rhiannon was too timid to build up any speed. No speed, no balance. When she did build up some speed, she would get scared and drop her feet off the peddles and on to the ground. And then she would have a million excuses for what she had done, 'cause, you see, it couldn't possibly be her fault. (We have been working on the personal responsibility issue here at the Dominik hacienda. I was gratified to see that that particular area on the report card on Friday showed vast improvement. Now if only that would translate to home . . .) Finally, after a water and potty break (amazing how those two work together) she screwed up her courage and, viola! Balance. Now, she has been promised a new, bigger bike. And she has her eye on, brace yourselves, a pink one. What a shock, I know.
	Jack, of course, is always ready to rumble. A little tumble off the bike, no biggie. In fact, some long scratches were found on his tummy tonight, apparently the result of his stomach coming in contact with the asphalt. He doesn't remember it happening, nor does he seem concerned. I tell you, that bike is aptly named "Major Damage". I just call my son "Crash".
After the work of learning to ride on two wheels was done (watch, next she'll want a motorcycle) it was off to the playground. Where we are now able to swing without being pushed. My, how grown up we are at 7.
	But Jack can always be counted on to giggle when you touch him just about anywhere. However, Dad was supposed to be helping him get his pads on. Come on, Dad, we have the long forced march home yet. Don't use up all your energy.
Upon our return home, Daddy's resuscitation, and supper, it was time for a little relaxed plant time. Time, I might add, that has been robbed from me by that damned . . . well, you know who. Ah, the simple joy of just contemplating my deck jungle in peace.



	Doesn't she look proud of herself?

Tonight after bedtime, Rhiannon came out of her room crying numerous times. Seems she is having bad and scary thoughts that she can't get out of her head. When that happens, the only thing you can do is talk her through it. It took about a half and hour and some time in the bathtub, but we managed it and now she seems to be sleeping peacefully. It looks like both my kids have inherited my worry gene, it just exhibits itself different in each kid. Amazing how they can be so alike, yet so different.

I found myself contemplating those things in my brother and myself yesterday. Yesterday was Steven's birthday and I always find myself thinking of him on that day, no matter how estranged we are. Although, I can't say my thoughts of him were particularly nice, more . . . contemplative. Like how could two people raised by the same parents and treated essentially the same, have turned out so differently. Poor John, I dropped what he termed a "grenade question" on him last night by asking him about my brother's personality. His initial response? "Nope, not gonna answer, I can't win." When I assured him that anything he said would not be used against him, he responded with the thought that, somewhere along the way, maybe when he saw our father was sick, Steven determined that, in life, you don't necessarily get what you deserve, so you better just take what you can get your hands on before someone else gets it. Maybe. I know I wonder if he would have turned out differently had my father been healthier. Our father got seriously ill and had to retire when Steven was in about the 6th grade. He was never same again. He had a stroke and entered the nursing home when Steven was in 9th grade. Maybe, if my dad had been around to reign him in more (not that my mother didn't try) he would have turned out differently.

Well, enough of that. Have a good evening. Time to water my flowers and contemplate the peacefulness of nature. Now that I have it again.

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not