Enjoying Each Other's Laurels

We went to Southpoint Mall today to eat out for Johnny's birthday and for David to swing by J.Crew in search of a new pair of decent pants, a pair that is suitable for his new Vice Presidency. He's shaving again regularly and he's put up his jeans and vintage tees in favor of button-down shirts and better pants. He finds a pair of not-so-cheap cords and I ask them to hold them for a few minutes while we look around at some other stores. The kids get restless, of course, so David takes them off to the bathroom or wherever it is those three like to hang out while I'm shopping. I make my way to the Gap and find a basic pair of khakis that I need as a staple to carry my wardrobe in new directions throughout the year. I need the pants but I don't need anything else. I spy a simple chocolate brown dress that I try on and it fits great. I'm all about throwing on a dress in the chaotic mornings, and the deep chocolate brown can get me through the transitional summer to fall season here. I'm already envisioning wearing it now with bare legs but throwing on a cardigan and tights as it cools off this fall. I phone David to tell him I won't be much longer and to run the potential dress purchase by him. I didn't go to the mall intending to buy a dress or even slacks, but since he was all about a new pair of pants, I thought I deserved one too and just needed permission for my dress dessert.

David hardly ever objects when I buy clothes that actually look good on me so he was all "yeah, whatever. " And then he made a comment that alluded to the fact that under the present circumstances, we'd be able to afford the new togs. Cool! David got a raise=I get a new pair of pants and a new dress! From a store other than a thrift store or Target! A dress that costs more than $5.00 and hasn't been worn by anyone ever before! Yay!

I pay for my clothes and then go by to J. Crew to pay for David's not-so-cheap pants. As I give the clerk my debit card, she asked me in a rote way, "Are you a college student or a graduate student?" I was this close to saying "no" because I've been conditioned to automatically say "no" to such questions as "Are you a teacher? Are you a student? Are you a firefighter? Are you a Republican? Do you want to get 10% off by opening a line of credit?" But then, I caught myself and I replied a little too loudly, "WAIT! I am a graduate student! Yeah, I really am." Not sure if she should believe me due to the level of my enthusiasm, she asked, "Do you have your student ID with you?" "Um, no." (I don't have that yet). "Well then, do you have a student e-mail address?" "YES! I do have a student e-mail address! I just set it up today!"

And by giving her my new UNC e-mail address, I got 10% off of David's not-so-cheap pair of pants. It was the most fun either of has had shopping for ourselves in a long time.

Happy Birthday, Little Prince

Happy Birthday Party

Johnny's b-day party was Saturday. We had some fine entertainment lined up: A water slide, a skateboard pinata and a magic show by the "Amazing Dabs." Unfortunately, my dad woke up yesterday feeling less than amazing and slept through the entire party. Regardless, all the kids had fun, especially Johnny.

Preparing a Meal

Grace: Mommy! Here are your running shoes. Will you come outside and run with me???

Me: Not yet, honey, I'm making pesto.

Grace: Mommy! Now will you come outside and run with me?

Johnny: Yeah and I'm gonna ride my bike!

Me: Well, now that the sauce is ready...David, can you just boil the noodles and roast these pine nuts for a few minutes?

David: Huh, what? Yeah, the noodles and the pine nuts, ok.

10 or 15 minutes later.

Me: Why did you put a bowl of black beans out? We're having pesto. Is something burning?

David: Those aren't black beans. Those are the pine nuts you put in. I guess they really only do take just minutes to roast.

I Think I've Figured it Out

In my current job, I do quite a bit of event planning. We only have events about twice a year, but when we do, they're big, and there's a significant amount of planning involved. I had a dream, rather a nightmare, last night, that centered around a work event. There was a big meeting or conference that I helped organize and when I glanced at my watch it was 3:00 PM and not only had lunch not been served, it hadn't even been ordered and people were hungry and mad. At me. Boy was I glad it was just a dream.

I think I had that dream, because I've been stressing a bit over my first writing assignment for the School of Social Work. I don't have a problem writing once I know what I want to say, but my problem has been knowing what to say. I've been mulling over this assignment for weeks now and the due date is right around the corner, Aug. 1. For years, I've had dreams that I'm either in High School or college and I've spent the whole semester not going to class and then at the end I'm scrambling to figure out how to come out with at least a C. The other night I dreamt that I was a freshman at UNC again, along with all my suitemates, but that we were all our current ages and we already knew each other. I was the only one who hadn't paid my tuition bill and was confused about my class schedule. (I can hear you guys laughing, that's not too far from reality, is it?)

But now, there's a real reason for these dreams. I will be starting back at Carolina in a few weeks, and tuition and this first writing assignment are due on Aug. 1. And I haven't taken care of either yet. And while the tuition solution still elludes me (I just had to pay over $500 yesterday for four new tires!), I think I've finally figured out the basis of my writing assignment.

We are to dream up an ideal social service agency and pretend we're submitting a grant proposal to fund such an agency. We have to make a case for the need for this agency in our community and outline the mission, services, target popluation, staff, etc. My very first instinct was for a parenting co-op for evenings and weekends, then something involving literacy, then a comprehensive employment agency for men re-entering the community after being discharged from Orange Correctional Center. It's been hard coming up with an idea that hasn't already been addressed in some way in Orange County. Then I read some reports that summarize trends in Orange County and the social service strengths and weaknesses and came to this conclusion: How about a "service house" or a place called "Orange County Connects" that is more than a notebook or list or hotline or database of all of the social services available in Orange County, but a physical place to go to connect with live bodies who specialize in connecting the "needers" (I just made that word up) to what's already out there and then creatively with community members, leaders, etc. coming up with ways to fill in the gaps. I don't want to call them "case workers" so let's call them "connectors." You'd have connectors that have their hands on the pulse of what's out there (and needed) in the areas of: healthcare, affordable housing, education and training, obtaining and maintaining gainful employment, crisis intervention, quality childcare, faith-based efforts, etc.

In short: don't re-create the wheel or at least the entire wheel when you don't need to. In a May, 2006 a report on the Orange County Homeless Community, as a result of a UNC-School of Public Health class assignment, indicated the need for comprehensive, transitional housing and employment support for individuals who are re-entering the community. That's exactly what Caramore Commuity, Inc. (where David works) excels at, although their services are specifically for mentally-ill adults. Ok, but at least Caramore staff could consult and train and maybe expand their offerings since their model works. Later in the report, a recommendation is made to have more computers and internet access available to residents of homeless shelters. That's exactly what's available at the Orange County Skills Development/JobLink Center! Why didn't these UNC students know about the OCSDC?? I'm sitting in a Church and Society Committee meeting and committee members are lamenting that there are virtually no rehabilitative programs available to the inmates at the Orange Correctional Center. Well, yes there are! The Orange County Literacy Council has been doing great things up there for over 10 years!

If "Orange County Connects" existed in a friendly, comfortable enviroment on the busline in Chapel Hill, with progressive, creative, educated, qualified, trained, compassionate and resourceful individuals that help people in need find the help they needed, maybe what's out there (and there's a whole lot out there) could be leveraged and the proverbial dogs would quit chasing their proverbial tails.

Let Them Eat Cupcakes

About ninety minutes ago, the kids and I were playing in the sandbox as the evening slugged along. We pretended to make a birthday cake for Johnny (his birthday is in eleven days) and then for Grace (who turns six in one month). All of a sudden I got a wild hair up my you-know-what and asked the kids if they wanted to make real cupcakes. From scratch. So without even wiping all the sand off our feet, we ran into the kitchen, washed our hands, donned our aprons and began whipping up yellow cupcakes with chocolate icing. From scratch. It didn't matter that we didn't have any confectioners sugar on hand (for the icing) or cream of tartar (for the batter). We improvised under my leadership and came out having fun and some damned-good cupcakes if I do saysomyself.

P*** For Women

I didn't realize I lived in such a p***ographic household. David does the majority of these things on a daily basis. Lucky me.

Our Life as A TV Sitcom

David doesn't ask questions anymore...I'm in charge of our social life and he just shows up. Sometimes, he even has a good time. Like Saturday when the whole family was invited to a big post-wedding bash for someone I know through work. Held in a cool old house in Raleigh, over 100 people showed up for tons of good food, plenty of good stuff to drink, and exceptionally good live entertainment. There were endless interesting paths to explore, both inside and out, and because of all of the nooks and crannies and breakable stuff around , it was important to keep close tabs on our kids.

Almost immediately, Grace announced she had to pee, and the hostess graciously agreed to take her. There was so much going on that it took me about twenty minutes to realize Grace should be about finished now, and by the way, where was the bathroom? I found the bathroom, and found Grace inside, surprisingly calm, as she announced she had been locked in. She hadn't really been locked in, as it was one of those old, heavy doors with crystal door knobs that can be tricky to turn, but she was happy to see me and make her way back to the party.

Since there were so many people, some people had sticky nametags on just to make it easier figuring out who was who. I'd brought my standard artichoke dip and wanted to label it so people would know what they were biting into in case they didn't like artichokes, or garlic, or parmesean cheese. David walked up just as I was writing out "Artichoke Dip" on one of the nametags and he said, "Is that my nametag?"

When the hotdogs and hamburgers were ready, it was easier for me to get in line for the whole family, but I was a little self conscious about my piled-high meat platter and told the guy behind me (who looked just like Ben Kingsley) not to worry, I wasn't going to eat all of this by myself.
He seemed to buy my story then but raised an eyebrow when ten minutes later, I was wandering around the party, sans family, with a plateful of meat.

There were filmmakers and prominent film critics at this party and even though we never knew exactly who everyone was, we knew there were a couple of big shots out there and we tried to act accordingly. At one point an unknown man walked straight up to me, looked me in the eye, and said, "Wait." (Was this one of the filmmakers? Was I about to be discovered?) "You have a dab of mustard on your chin."

But that wasn't my most humiliating moment of the night. That came when I was sneaking off to the bathroom to take care of some personal business and my feminine product fell out of my pocket and landed right in front of the band. Luckily for me, the lead singer is blind. I made it back to the tricky bathroom and couldn't find a lock to lock the door. I felt just like Cheryl Hines in that Curb Your Enthusiasm episode where she asks her husband Larry to guard the door that doesn't have a lock. He doesn't and a man walks in on her at the most inopportune time and sees everything. Luckily that didn't happen to me, but it could have and David was nowhere around to help.

We have a secret signal, a code word, that was designed to be used in social situations when we want to communicate something important without spelling it out for all in earshot. At one point in the evening I was giving David the secret signal, but it wasn't working. He was too caught up in making eye contact with the prominent film critic. That's nice and all, David, I thought, but you need to seriously curb your enthusiasm and help me out here.

Trying to Make Sense Out of Things

This morning:

Johnny: Mommy, when babies die, do we eat them?

Me: What??!! No!

Johnny: But when pigs die, we eat them, right?

Me: Yeah, sometimes.

Johnny: What is pig food, Mommy?

Me: Bacon, ham, pork chops.

Johnny: And hangubers are from cows?

Me: Yes. Chicken is from chicken and fish is from fish.

Johnny: What food comes from kangaroo?

High-Brow White Trash

We laughed all the way through Talladega Nights recently-- at the stereotypes, the satire, the parodies--but the more I've reflected on my own life since watching the movie, the less I'm laughing and the more I'm thinking, "Wait, we do that too." Is it a Southern thing? A socio-economic thing? We were definitely low-income growing up, qualifying for "reduced lunch." I remember the empty margarine tub full of dimes and each morning we would grab a dime to pay for our lunch that day. When our family traveled to rural KY and WV where my dad studied that patch of Appalachian culture for his dissertation "Folklore of the Big Sandy Valley of Eastern Kentucky," people stared at us chugging through in a beat-up green Ford, three grimy kids in hand-me-down clothes. One time in my early childhood in Columbus, OH, my parents were waiting it out until payday and in the meantime had almost run out of food while maxing out the credit cards. All they had left was some credit on the Lazarus charge card and they went to the gourmet food section and charged up a bunch of chocolate-covered cashews and savory English biscuits for our family's sustenance for two or three days.

That was when my mom and dad were trying to make it on an assistant professor's salary while rearing three young children. Even though my dad retired five years ago, he still lives like a thrifty graduate student, driving twenty-year old cars and pinching pennies where he can. You know those annoying twisty ties that come with every child's toy packaging? I swear this is true, my dad always asks me not to throw away those ties, but to give them to him to use.

My life can't really be called low-income anymore, although it's sometimes hard to believe. I work in an architecturally award-winning modern building in a beautiful office with high-end artwork and colored leather couches and chairs. I can afford expensive power suits (and even own a couple) but I still shop at thrift stores and Target (and usually end up receiving more compliments on the dresses I buy there!)

Our small house needs many repairs: new doors, a new kitchen floor, new kitchen cabinets, and is in desperate need of a good exterior power wash. Yet, I finally get a loan for $3,000, but is any of it going toward home repairs? It's all going towards graduate school tuition. Even though I'm driving a 2006 Mazda 5 that we purchased brand new, I've been driving around for months with a cracked windshield . It's not that I can't afford to fix it--I guess it just doesn't bother me that much.

It also doesn't bother me that we consider take-out from Applebee's a treat or that there is kids' scribbling on the walls in every room of our house. Or that our kitchen table is David's desk and our kitchen corner is his office. And that rarely is our table ever fully cleared of non-meal items when we sit down to eat as a family. Or that SpongeBob Square Pants is almost always on at dinnertime. I take that back--that last one totally bothers me, and I don't allow it. If I'm home and we're all eating together, I refuse to have the tv on.

My dad has said in the past that people in academia are in a social class of their own. I catch his drift, but where are the lines drawn? Does the fact that he has a PhD explain (or excuse?) his practice of offering his children money for their biscuit or their piece of pie after his were already eaten?

As I look around our home and see the stacks of Philosophy books and piles of New Yorker magazines, I like to think that some of the things that we laughed about in Talladega Nights don't apply to my life. Then I notice the array of candles David has burning on top of our microwave. I can't believe my eyes so I take a closer look. One of the tea-light candle holders that David has recently fashioned is a small, empty olive can, left over from when he made spaghetti on Tuesday night.

Johnson Reunion 2007

Most Inspiring Couple: Sadie and Eddie

Prepared the Best Food: Sadie

Best All-Around Personality: Eddie

Most Likely to be Able to Tie a Knot in a Cherry Stem with Her Tongue (or so she says): Beth

Most Relaxed While in the Pool: David Hulett

Most Laid-Back Person No Matter Where She Was, What She Was Doing Or Who Was Around: Sarah H.

Family With Most Impressive Charades Players: Beth, Haley, and Abbey

Absolute Coolest, Most Fun and Most Laid-Back Hostess Ever: Ann

Most Likely to be a Rock Star by the Next Reunion: David M. H.

Person Who Put on the Most Entertaining Fashion Show: Nancy

Person Who Turns a Year Older at Every Johnson Reunion Yet Never Looks a Day Older Year After Year: Elinor

Most Fun: Little Sam

Most Competitive Person Pushing 80 Years Old (He's only 44, but in his words, he's more than halway to 80): Big Sam

Most Off-The-Wall Sense of Humor: Three-Way tie between Brian , Big Sam and D. Cooley

Best Conversationalist: Mack

Person Who Most Resembled a Fire Cracker: Emily

Person With the Most Tricks Up His Sleeve: Austin

Most Observant/Most Likely to Know the Correct Answer to Any Question About the Reunion Regarding Games, Food Plans, Activities, Sleeping Arrangements: Hannah

Person in the "First Cousin" Generation Who Was Most Popular With the Under 18 Sect: Kate

Cruise Director: Sarah Cooley

Most Likely to Be Cruise Directors at Future Reunions: Haley and Abbey

Adult Female Most Likely to Be Mistaken For a 20-Something: Lisa

Adult Male Most Likely to Be Mistaken For a 20-Something: Daniel

Person Most Likely to Ask You What Your Name Is: Grace

When Asked if He'd Like to Participate in the Family Pictures, Most Likely to Respond, "Let's not but say we did:" Johnny

Person Who Secretly Enjoyed Putting the Kids to Bed Each Night to Get Out of "Group Games:" David Cooley

Person Most Likely To Cross Paths and Engage in Conversation With Unsupervised Children Wandering Through the House: Brian

Most Unexpected Splash: Storm

Most Talked About Movie: "Flicka"

Sometimes It's Best to Leave Well Enough Alone

I took today off to get ready for our road trip to Owensboro, KY to the annual "Johnson Reunion."
Not to be confused with the 80-person plus "Ballantine Reunion," (which the Johnsons all attend, by the way), the Johnson Reunion is a smaller gathering of my mom's kids and their kids, and her two sisters' kids and their kids.

On my long list of things to do to get ready for the trip was a visit to Aria Skin and Laser Spa for a full-body airbrush tanning session. I've only ever done this one time before and that was about three weeks ago right before my little jaunt to Boone and Wilmington. I had a gift certificate for the Spa that I've been holding on to since my birthday, and I thought, what the heck, let's see what this airbrush tanning is all about. It was a little weird, I must say. I was ushered back into a spacious bathroom and was told to strip down and wear nothing but these disposable panties they give you. Ok. Now, I'm not very modest in medical situations as I've given birth twice and have breastfed two children, but it was a bit awkward to stand there almost fully naked in front of this woman, mirrors, and fans, while she sprayed me. The actual spraying took about 10 minutes as she got all sides and angles. Then the lights were dimmed, the fans turned up and I was told to stand there and slowly rotate for a full 30 minutes while the tanning solution dried. That part was probably weirder than standing naked in front of a strange woman, the standing naked in front yourself in the mirror for a full 30 minutes. Finally, the minutes passed and I was free to go. I LOVED the results, and better yet, so did David! I had this instant boost of confidence all because my body was two shades darker.

I'm fully aware of the dangers of the sun and I'm good about putting sunscreen on my kids and me. But there's no denying it: people look better with a little tan. They just do. So I enjoyed my 5-7 day tan and decided that I would do it again before this upcoming Family Reunion. Today was the same experience as the first time, but it seemed like it took longer for the solution to dry. And when I got home and checked everything out, it barely looked like I had gotten sprayed at all. I honestly don't know if my coloring is the same as last time or what, but my insatiable vanity kicked in and I took out my Neutrogena MicroMist Tanning Sunless Spray to spray on top of the $38 job I'd just gotten done professionally. The first time I used the Neutrogena home product, I did a terrible job and left my legs streaky and orange. Why did I think this time would be any better?

Four years ago not too long after Johnny was born, I got a home hair highlighting kit and totally did a number on my naturally golden locks. My hair ended up looking orange. I went to a professional to fix my damage and I was told (and agreed) to never try to give myself highlights at home again. No longer trying to get my hair lighter on my own at home, now I'm trying to get my skin darker. The professionals weren't good enough this time and I was compelled to challenge them and Mother Nature. We'll see in about 2 hours whether my skin turns blotchy and orange. If it does, I deserve it.

Longing to be Dipped

I came across this quote on a postcard that I received at work announcing an art Opening Reception at The Hoyt Institute of Fine Arts in New Castle, PA. It sums up beautifully how I'm feeling these days.

And if tonight my soul may find her peace in sleep, and sink in good oblivion, and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.

--D. H. Lawrence

Christmas in July?

Granddabs: Johnny, it's July. Do you know what happens in July?

Johnny: My birfday!!!

Granddabs: That's right!

Johnny: And I'm getting a skateboard for my birfday!

Me: You want a skateboard, but that doesn't mean you're definitely getting one.

Johnny: Yes I am, Mommy. Santa Claus is bringing me a skateboard!

Summer's Off to a Great Start

So much great stuff happened this weekend, I hardly know how to document it all. I'll start with Friday's Preschool graduation ceremony at Spanish for Fun Academy (which Johnny and Grace affectionately have shortened to "Spanish for Dot Com since their Daddy does their website.") All rising Kindergarteners put on a show with songs and dances and then donned caps and gowns for an "official" diploma ceremony. There was a Panamanian "rap-type-reggae" crowd-pleaser, and a fiesta at the end, but one of the highlights of the day was that Grace's abuelo (grandfather) is a mago (a magician) and my dad did a very successful magic show. I have more to say on the magic show, and will perhaps in another post, but it went great; the kids loved it, the parents laughed (some howled, some moaned, and some cried), but it all went well and was a great way to celebrate this major milestone in Grace's life. SFFA is my kids' second home, and I couldn't be more pleased with the care, education, and cultural exposure they are getting there.
Saturday we went to a 6-Year-old girl's birthday party, and my dad did the magic show all over again. It was a bit tougher to get laughs from the suburban crowd, but overall, it went over well. These are the same tricks that my dad did for my birthday parties, the last one being when I was 9 years old. He hasn't lost his touch.

One exciting thing that Grace has been able to boast is that she's had a loose tooth for about two weeks. Johnny wants so badly to have a loose tooth too, but this is the one area in their development when their age difference actually means something, and Johnny's just not old enough to have a loose tooth. So, last evening, David and I were getting ready to go out (without our kids) and I noticed that Grace's loose tooth was really loose. I thought it would still be a few days. I didn't hear this but apparently, my dad told Grace to keep working it with her tongue and in a matter of seconds, Grace was standing there dumbfounded with a gap where her bottom tooth used to be. I screamed for at least 20 seconds causing my dad to run in thinking a fish hook had gotten stuck in her mouth, or something equally dramatic. I looked in Grace's hand and there was this tiny tooth in the middle of her palm. I was screaming for joy, of course, like a mother would if her daughter had just won the title of Little Miss Sunshine or something, but I think I freaked the whole house out. It was a great moment, and Johnny didn't even pitch a jealous fit.



With the kids in a good mood and having heard me tell them that they'd better go to bed without a fight and on time for Granddabs or the Tooth Fairy might not come, David and I took off to the North Carolina Museum of Art to meet PS for an outdoor concert and movie. The band was Southern Culture on the Skids and the movie was Talladega Nights. I had a great time people-watching (and there were some characters) and feeling right at home as fried chicken was flung from stage to audience, a bite taken out and then back from audience to stage. It was a great time, and the rain spared us, just barely. The evening was a big deal, because it was the first time my dad has ever babysat the kids all by himself, and we were gone for at least 5 hours. All went peachy except that my dad couldn't for the life of him find the chocolate-chip cookies that he knew were somewhere in the kitchen.

The weekend would have been great had it ended there, but today we were given this glorious, humidity-free day to enjoy outdoors. And outdoors we played. We swung. We swam. We casually read books when we were supposed to be life-guarding out most precious commodities. You'll have to watch the last video to see exactly what I mean.