We Know How to [ruin a] Party

Last week was the annual residency party, and our kids were specifically invited.  It was hosted by an attending in his beautiful home.  If you are thinking that beautiful homes and small children don't really go together, you are right.
On the way there, I realized I hadn't brought Gigi a bottle, so we stopped and bought some milk at a 7-Eleven, where I witnessed shoplifting that the clerk did nothing about.
Once there, I had to ask for a straw so Gigi could easily drink the milk, and the hosts graciously did.  When she got tired of the milk, Georgia hit the cup out of my hands and milk splattered onto the floor.
Henry was busy trying to hurt himself on their hammock, but he did pause long enough to pee his pants right by the back door, next to the grill.
The best part was probably that Nick told me it was a pool party.  It wasn't.  We were all dressed very casually and had a giant back of pool stuff with us.  I'm just glad I didn't go in my swimsuit and that we left the pool noodles at home.

Another upside of thinking you are going to a pool party, but instead being at a pool-less party was that once Henry had his accident, he was able to change into swim trunks instead of running around Naked.

How Much Do They Know?

I was listening to NPR today as they discussed how individuals are tracked on the Internet, and then companies match that data up with public records and know who you really are.  I also read an article that discussed how Target tracks purchases made with bank cards, figures out stuff about you, and then markets directly to you according to what they know.  In the example, Target had sent a mailer created specifically for pregnant women to a 17-year-old girl.  Her father was outraged that they would send it to a teenager.  Then his daughter confessed that she was pregnant.  Target knew because of what she was buying- and it wasn't baby stuff, and it made Target sound really creepy.

It seems like advertisers know far more about us than we guess.  So after thinking about this in the morning, I was really surprised by what I found in our mail this afternoon.  Nick got a special envelope in the mail, from Camel Tobacco.  He has never smoked, and he's not about to start.  I guess they don't know as much as I thought.

Smitten From the Start

Today marks nine years since Nick and I had our first date.  For unknown reasons, I've always remembered that we met June 29, and went on our first date July 19, 2003.  Today I thought it would be fun to dig out my old journals, untouched for years, and see what I wrote.  I knew I was actively journaling during that period, and knew I would probably laugh at what I wrote.

". . . . . I've met someone who I've become inexplicably enamored with.  I started talking with him Sunday nights at ward prayer several weeks ago.  Within about five minutes of talking to him, I knew I liked him.  After a couple weeks of these chats, I really like him, and after going out with him on Saturday, I find that I'm far more swept away in it than I'm comfortable with.
          His name is Nicholas.  He's a pre-med student majoring in German and works for UPS.  He's very smart, funny, nice, says "Nice!" a lot, and is apparently very handy with tools.  . . .  . . . .He seems to get all my stupid, obscure references. . . . . .He invited me to do something with him next Saturday night.  I just don't want to wait that long before I see or talk to him.  Call me crazy- I deserve it- I barely met this guy."

So, yes, it is a bit much for a guy I'd only been on one date with.  But I guess I can't call call 22-year-old me too crazy.  She was right about everything.  I don't think I gush over Nick in public too much, but I love him more now than ever.  I'm amazed at how fast nine years together has passed by.  And he is very handy with tools, a skill I continue to benefit from.  Remember Brenda's advice, and marry someone who can sheet rock.

All Good Things . . . .

I have recently discovered that Neutrogena has stopped making the make-up I like.  I know what you're thinking.  "She wears make-up??"  I very occasionally wear make-up, which is why I've only recently discovered that I can't buy replacement cosmetics.  In order to wear make-up, conditions must be just right.  And by "just right," I mean that I must be a passenger in a car on my way to an event, and have my make-up bag with me.  Last time I bought it, I had a coupon for buy one, get one half off.  The two containers of mineral powder lasted about three years of very occasional use.  I think the easiest thing to do will just be to admit that I no longer wear make-up.

Stellar Housekeeping and Parenting

On a recent Saturday morning, the whole family came down for breakfast, excited to have Nick make Henry's favorite breakfast, Mickey Mouse pancakes.  This hasn't happened in a long time because Nick does not get a weekend like normal people.  But that is changing for one year.  Nick is doing a year of research as part of his residency, and will be working "normal" hours for the first and probably last time in our married lives.

Unfortunately, the pancake breakfast was momentarily delayed by an ant invasion.  There are lots of ants outside our house.  If you leave anything available to them, we then have ants inside our house.  There was a hearty trail of ants coming under our front door, crossing the carpet in to the kitchen, and heading under the kitchen cart.  I moved the kitchen cart to discover a chicken nugget (from lunch with friends the day before), which was heavily peppered with moving ants.  I was laughing at the absurdity of it as I grabbed the broom and dustpan to sweep up the ants and nugget in one go.

But then I looked down and there was no nugget, just ants.  I looked around and saw that Gigi was holding the nugget, and lots of ants.   And I could see that she had taken a bite out of the nugget, just by looking at her face, which now had ants on it.

I felt bad that she was eating old meat and bugs, but I laughed a lot too.  You don't need to bother, I'll call DCFS on myself.

Whatever It Takes

 

She loves to drive her car.  She has since figured out how to open the door, but even before that she wasn't going to let anything keep her from driving her sweet ride.