jennanddave.com

I'm fairly certain I've been up all night. We haven't been home since right before Halloween and the house feels like a giant dust bomb blew up in it. Claritin only takes the edge off. Our bedroom, which was once attic space, doesn't have a forced air heating vent in it like the rest of the house. It has a small electric baseboard which has a faulty setting dial so that most nights we use it we end up over-heating the room. Last night when I turned on the heater you could smell the dust warming up on it. Just thinking about it is enough to send a person into allergy-induced asthmatic fits. I might have to hire someone to come in and clean the place before we move back.

I think I'll jump in the shower and head out to Dunkin' Donuts. They must be open.

Posted by Jenn at 05:29 AM | Permalink

We're going to be on the road for most of today and I anticipate being so wiped out by the time we park the car this evening that I might just be willing to blow the whole NaBloPoMo thing on this, the second to last day. How sad would that be? So here I am, sort of bright and sort of early, with some linkage for you to look at should you so desire.

I get "Adelina, the Yale Boola Girl" song stuck in my head more often than I care to admit. When I was in middle school I loved the old '30's and '40's Dick Tracy comic strips and I swear I remember one of the villains would always be mumbling "boola boola". I know how he felt. Listen to it here.

Last week after an hour of link-following, fate led me to a video on youtube that I thought was great. It's a Halloween stage dance from 1929. Check it out:

Posted by Jenn at 07:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Today was a very quiet day. I pulled open the blinds and was greeted with an expanse of gray sky that looked like it held the promise of snow. Instead it just drizzled rain. When I was a kid we lived next door to a house whose roof was the exact color of the sky right before it snows. From October through April, every morning I'd look out the kitchen window; if I couldn't see the roofline, then I knew it was going to snow.

I ran out of decaf last night and instead of settling for high octane this morning, we all bundled up and headed for Dunkin' Donuts. The town has put up Christmas decorations all around the Salem Common and it looks, well, lovely. We got back home at 11, an hour past Henry's naptime so I decided to keep him up until after lunch. He was fussy until I gave him food (surprise, surprise) and then he slept for three glorious hours in the afternoon. I spent that time reading a book my dad got me, taking a long shower, and watching part of Coffee and Cigarettes.

I've been fighting off a headache the last few days so I wasn't in any mood to prepare any kind of dinner. We headed back out into the wilds of Salem to scare up some sushi. We went to the restaurant via a side road that goes by a house that used to put up all sorts of holiday lights, complete with electronic Christmas music. They haven't put anything up yet, but it's still early in the season. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Posted by Jenn at 08:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

NaBloPoMo has put a serious dent into any desire I may have to write things in my journal. All energy has been focused on coming up with something/anything to post here, so much so that by the end of the day I'm completely bored with myself and can't even be bothered to pick up a pen and scratch anything out on paper. I am devoting today, the 27th day of NaBloPoMo (3 days left!), to a list of Henry-related things that have gone on this month. Sort of like a newsletter, but way more disorganized.

When we were last in Lewisburg, Henry showed an interest in what was going on with the television whenever we turned it on. He showed a special affinity for the Teletubbies. About a week after we got back to Salem we bought him a Teletubbies "springtime" dvd and the Sesame Street Silly Songs dvd. He got over the 'tubbies fairly quickly. He loves the Silly Songs action. There's a puppet that's got a bell on his head which he dings with his hand. Sometimes when he comes on Henry smacks his head in time with the dings. It's really cute.

Henry can sort of use a fork. He tries to spear things but doesn't have much luck. He eats from his fork very well though. Sometimes when he grabs hold of a piece of food, he'll hold it out to you like he wants to feed it to you but when you go to get it he swoops it into his own mouth and commences to look very pleased with himself.

On Thanksgiving Day I forgot to pack his bottle, so all of his pre-nap milk noshes happened via sippy cup. Henry couldn't have cared less. So now he's officially off the bottle. This is great news for us because Dave and I were totally sick of washing Dr. Brown's bottles and all of their various components.

Things Henry loves: going up and down stairs, getting in and out of my mom's rocking chair, brushing his own teeth, bathtime, seagulls, dogs, riding escalators, banjoes, spinning wheels. Lately he's been trying to put his favorite hat on himself. He grabs the two knots and pulls it over his head so it lays on top of his head like a tired toupee. Henry doesn't seem to mind and it stays on surprisingly well.

Henry's got a one word vocabulary. When he wants something he'll reach for it and say "yes". It's a good word to know, it keeps things on a positive note around here. He can also sign "book" and "cup". We're working on "keyboard" but he hasn't quite got the hang of it yet.

I'm sure I've forgotten a million things. If anyone remembers anything I've left off, let me know.

Posted by Jenn at 03:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

On Friday we bought a tv. A big one. And expensive. We also got a home security system. And a vicious dog. With big fangs from which blood drips occasionally from all the raw meat she consumes. Anyway, we financed one on a department store credit card so we now have two years to pay it all off or get hit with back interest. As fate would have it, we're also financing an eight pack of vacuum bags. I don't even want to think about what the interest on those would be if we weren't able to pay them off in 24 months. I probably should have purchased a life-time supply of them because they're the ever-elusive v-series. I've been using the same stuffed vacuum bag since we moved here because I haven't been able to find any. This has been a minor source of anxiety. I'd begun to think I had discovered the one thing Central Pennsylvania has that the big city doesn't. To mercifully end a needlessly long story, Dave and I left Major Department Store very happy for two very different reasons.

They didn't have the tv in stock so we have to wait until Monday. From the moment the words "We'll call you when it comes in" left the salesperson's lips, Dave has been acutely aware of the location of the cell phone, just in case the truck delivers it two days early. On a weekend no less. I think that hope is the only thing helping him get through the long wait.

All this buildup leads to the very important question that faces all new television owners, especially ones who don't have cable and probably also have really bad local reception: what movie do we watch first? When the question first saw the light of day, the gravity of the situation hit us like a ton of bricks and ushered in a moment of reverential silence that was broken a moment later when Dave said The Matrix. Meanwhile, I'm leaning towards Zorro the Gay Blade. Since it's the holiday season, maybe it should be White Christmas which we just purchased on DVD, widescreen no less. It's quite the conundrum.

Posted by Jenn at 04:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My mom gave me permission to post this conversation. It was inspired by the Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends float in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

Mom- What is that thing? It looks like a blue condom.
Jenn- Yeah, or a blue thumb.
Grandma E- How do you know what a blue condom looks like? Jenn and I don't know.
Mom- Jenn and I know, we got some free in a magazine once.
Grandma E- Really? What were they like?
Mom- Gooey.
Grandma E- Gooey?!
Mom- Well, you know, they were lubricated...
Grandma E- Oh. *long pause* They are packaged nicely aren't they?

Posted by Jenn at 04:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On the way to my parents house:

Dave: Henry, say "turkey"!
Henry: Eeeee!
Dave: Say "turkey"!
Henry: Eeeee!
Dave: Okay, "turk-"!
Henry: Eeeee!
Dave: "Turk-"!
Henry: Eeeee!

On the ride back home:

Dave: I can't decide if it's hailing or not.
me: It's 41 out. That's a pretty interesting temperature in terms of how it affects precipitation.
Dave: Yeah. I can't tell if the hail is melting as it hits the road...
me: They do seem like really big rain drops.
Dave: Well the dog pooped big today.
me: What does that mean?
Dave: Uhhhhh...
me: Oh, you mean she just has to pee, not go for a long walk?
Dave: Yeah.
me: I thought you were referring to her as some kind of weather predictor-dog, like "If Flash poops big, prepare to dig/If she just does a tinkle, it's only going to sprinkle".
Dave: *polite chuckle*...silence

Posted by Jenn at 04:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We're about to pile into the car and head over the river and through the woods, which is a much better place to go than, say, down the rabbit hole. Some of the things I'm looking forward to: pumpkin pancakes, the Rockettes (even if they're maybe just a little soggy and grumpy), a viewing of Home for the Holidays, the Big Meal, Dave's home-made apple pie, Buffalo Girls and Donna Reed. Also, hanging out with my family, always a good time.

Hope you have a great Thanksgiving!

Posted by Jenn at 07:30 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

She picked the box up and headed for the stairwell. She briefly thought about saying one last good-bye, but decided not to.

While walking downstairs she thought about what kind of caption she would apply to this particular chapter of her life, now that it was closing. The only thing that came to mind was “What a long strange trip it’s been.” She shook her head; “I don’t even like the Grateful Dead”.

At the bottom of the stairs, she paused for a second, then opened the door and headed for the train station.

Posted by Jenn at 03:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Remember way back when I mentioned something about having hit the NaBloPoMo wall? Today I sucked it up and went out and got the must-have blog book, written expressly for those who have maybe temporarily run out of ideas. Or hit a wall. (Also written for those who maybe never had an idea to start with, which is definitely not the category I belong to because I've always written amazingly interesting posts. Um, yeah.) Anyway, inspiration being safely contained inside a Barnes and Noble bag, I got in the car and headed back towards 114 via the road that runs around the perimeter of the mall. You know the one I mean. It's usually too narrow and always has lots of cars turning onto it from the ends of five thousand parking lanes. If you're lucky, sometimes you'll catch sight of someone barreling towards you across parking spaces at high speed. What's up with the blatant disregard for white lines? They're there for a reason!

Just as I'm about to get to the right turn that takes me to 114 I see an old guy on a souped up mobility scooter trying to turn out of the parking lot. As I'm thinking there's no way he's going to try and cut in front of me because there's no one behind me, he does exactly that. Except he's either not very certain or he's not able to control the scooter as well as he would like. He zipped out in front of me (zipped being a relative term), drove along the middle of the road, then very uncertainly zigged and zagged his way over to the right hand side of the road. I slowed way down, not wanting to go around him because he was all over the place, but also terrified that no matter what precautions I took, I was somehow going to hit him. My mind flashed to possible news coverage. Being an elderly man on a mobility scooter definitely trumps being the mom of a stunningly adorable kid, so there was no way I was going to have public sympathy on my side. I had a minor moment of terror when I thought he was going to take a right onto 114, but he suddenly straightened himself out and carried on his way.

I wonder where he went after that. Boston via I-95?

Posted by Jenn at 04:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Have you seen that article on CNN, the one that talks about how one percent of the internet is porn? I asked Dave if he had read it:

me: I can't believe 1% of the web is porn. I'd think it would be a lot more than that.
dave: I know. Personally I would spin that as 99% porn-free.

Posted by Jenn at 08:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I have hit the proverbial NaBloPoMo wall. What do I write about? I rack my brain and come up with nothing. An unexpected NaBlo side effect: I'm expending so much energy thinking about what to post that I could care less what other people are writing on their blogs. I wonder if novelists stay as far away from books as possible when they're writing.

Here's a picture of my men that has nothing to do with anything I've written or will write later in this post:

I went to Barnes and Noble today to look for a Tom Wolfe book. I finished I Am Charlotte Simmons and although it was a real page turner, it didn't bowl me over. I thought the characters were two-dimensional and the overall theme one that's been done before. I read a review of his writing somewhere (I can't remember where so I can't give credit) where the reviewer said Wolfe packs a lot of life into every sentence he writes, so I was really looking forward to reading Charlotte, and thus I was vaguely disappointed. When I mentioned all of this to my dad, he pointed me to a collection of two essays Wolfe wrote called Radical Chic & Mau-Mauing the Flak Catchers, one of which is about New York socialites getting together with members of the Black Panthers at a social gathering. This brings us back to today. I headed over to the fiction section of B and N and sifted through the w's. There were only a few books by Tom Wolfe and I thought perhaps I should scout out the non-fiction section when my eyes shifted to the right a bit and came across a collection of short stories by Tobias Wolff (The Night in Question). I read the first page of the first story and decided to get it.

Every once in a while I get the urge to try my hand at short-story writing. Since writing involves self-discipline (*shudder*) I don't really get very far. I've been feeling more and more like I need to do something to prevent my brain from oozing out of my ears and puddling up on the floor next to me. Perhaps Wolff's short stories will inspire me. If not, at least there's a nice picture of a train on the cover.

Posted by Jenn at 04:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

We all just got back from having dinner at my parents' house. The meal consisted of cornish hens, stuffing, squash, fruit salad, and apple crisp. It was delicious. Perhaps needless to say, we're all really full. Henry was in his element, surrounded by the doting attention of two sets of grandparents and one great-grandmother. He had the charm turned up as high as it could go, making any destructive forays into the napkin tray and dvd collection completely forgivable. Right now he's tucked in and asleep in his crib, no doubt dreaming of future meals that feature my mom's famous stuffing. Behind me on the couch are: Dave, his mom, his dad, and Flash, in that order. They're talking about math and computers. I think I'll go hide in the bathroom with the latest Archie Pals n' Gals.

Posted by Jenn at 09:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A couple of weeks ago Dave and I bought Henry the Sesame Street Silly Songs DVD, which is without doubt the greatest 30 minutes of entertainment ever lasered onto a little silver disc. I'm not kidding.

There's a song called "Old McDonald's Cantata" and it features two puppets that honk their noses, one that dings its head, an elephant snout trumpeting from the confines of a garbage can, and one of the martian puppets. I never watched much Sesame Street, but the second the camera focused on the martian, I went for a ride on the wayback machine.

Today my dad and I are going to be driving out to western MA to pick up my grandmother. While I'm busy doing that, you get busy watching this Sesame Street clip featuring the martians. It's hilarious.

Posted by Jenn at 07:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Yesterday after dinner we all got in the car and headed over to Macy's big one-day sale. Dave's mom was in the market for a new coat, I was looking for some new jeans, and Dave and his dad were looking to snoop around the Apple store to check out some cool gagdets.

I wandered the aisles for half an hour, teetering under an ever-growing pile of clothes to try on. Once I got into a dressing room, I was moving so fast it was like the Matrix in there. Sadly, I didn't find anything I really liked except for a sweater (which I ended up getting). Happily, I tried on a pair of size 10 Calvin Klein jeans and I didn't have to suck anything in to get them on. And they were comfortable! Sadly, my belly still hasn't snapped back from being stretched out into the next county from my pregnancy with Henry so I had two unsightly bulges hanging over the waistband on each side of my belly button. Blech. Thus, I think I'm going to be stuck in size 12's for a little while longer. Or, I need to get me some Spanx to smooth it all out until it goes away. In the meantime, hello sit-ups!

Posted by Jenn at 08:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Remember that walk in the woods we took last Saturday? Sunday night Dave found a tick on Flash. This morning, we found three more. Our dog, who has never before had a tick in our care, became a tick party cruise over the course of an hour and a half, four days ago. She has also been the cause of a slight case of the heebie-jeebies for yours truly because parasites are gross. I told Dave I think I was having sympathy pains on Flash's behalf last night because when I got into bed I briefly felt like little bugs were crawling on my legs. He said that just means I need to take a shower.

This afternoon we're picking up Dave's parents from the airport. They'll be staying with us until early next week. It will be nice to see them, and it'll be nice to have a few more hands helping to steer Henry away from trouble, because wow, does he ever seek it out. Tell him no and he'll stare at you while continuing to do whatever it is you're telling him not to. This is all very ironic considering he seems to have fully grasped the meaning and pronunciation of "yes", which means he's generally very agreeable. Based on experience alone I would have thought his first word would have been "no".

Posted by Jenn at 09:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yesterday Henry and I took advantage of a break in the weather and hoofed it up to the pedestrian mall in search of Cheerio's. While walking to CVS I passed the Bootery, a local self-proclaimed "high-end" shoe store. I saw these in the window. I immediately fell madly in love with them. We went in the store to take a closer look at them. $190. The fashionista in me died just a little bit. No way could I afford them. Dejectedly I wheeled Henry out of the store.

Later that night I took Flash out for a walk. On the way back up to the apartment I checked our mail. There was a letter from our mortgage bank nestled between our latest Netflix movie and a coupon for a Goodyear Tire Sale. Lately when we get mail from them I worry that it's a notice that they haven't received last months payment. I only feel that way because mail forwarding has been such a disaster resulting in me having to exert a bit more energy into keeping track of the bills. I opened it with not just a little sense of impending doom. As it turns out, they had sent us a check for overpaying into our escrow account. Not just a little check. A fairly decent check.

The question is, is that Fate telling me to go out and buy those incredibly over-priced, ridiculously cute boots? I'm having a hard time deciding...

Posted by Jenn at 09:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (9)

I saw a sound bite on the evening news Friday evening that led me to believe that the entire weekend would be rainy and gross. Imagine my surprise when Saturday turned out to be sunny and unseasonably warm, enough so that Dave and I were inspired to venture out with the troops to Bradley-Palmer State Park near Wenham and go for a walk. There's a paved road (closed to car traffic this time of year) that runs a circuit around the park, with hiking trails that snake through the middle of it. On the ride out, we passed a place called the Cupcake Cafe and Bakery. It took a lot of willpower not to slam on the brakes and come to a screeching halt on the sidewalk outside the Cafe but we somehow managed not to. After much discussion we decided that a cupcake after a nice walk would be a great treat.

When we got to the park, we let Henry loose to run around as he saw fit. He naturally gravitated towards crashing through the piles of leaves on the side of the road and would have gleefully waded into a stream that runs along the path if we hadn't stopped him. Meanwhile, Flash was busy marking all sorts of territory, so much so that the place actually belongs to her now and might as well be named Bradley-Palmer-Flash State Park as far as she's concerned. We had the idea that we'd walk around for about 30-45 minutes then get in the car and head home in time to put Henry down for an afternoon nap. Then we got lost. We usually walk the road for a while until we get to a trail that takes you through the meadows to another trail that takes you back to the parking lot. Dave was feeling adventurous and suggested when we got to the parking lot trail that we just carry on the way we were going and explore some new territory. By this time Henry was a little pooped from all the walking and had been transferred to the baby backpack. I said all right and off we went. To say this was the long way back to where we had started is a complete understatement. Everytime we'd round a corner, the trail stretched ahead of us again until finally we turned a sharp right corner basically heading back in the direction we'd come. I was a little annoyed by this point because it's really not a big park and yet we couldn't seem to find our way back to anything. Just as I was entertaining thoughts of being stuck out there forever like Charlie was stuck beneath the streets of Boston, we caught sight of a row of cars in the distance. Hallelujiah. By this time Henry was pretty pissed because we had seriously cut into his naptime with all of the exercise and fresh air and was probably mentally screaming at us to do him a favor and just sit on the couch the next time we get the urge to take a quick walk in the woods. Dave and I were worried the cupcake place would be closed when we got there.

It was. We all got out of the car and tugged on the door and it was locked tight, despite all the lights being on. Just beyond the door was a case full of beautiful cupcakes, begging to be purchased and eaten by yours truly. I was ready to kill Dave. Some how it was his fault. But then, miracle of miracles, the proprietor saw us and came around and let us in. We thanked her profusely while purchasing six cupcakes. We asked her what time she closed on Saturdays and she said 1 o'clock, so she had been closed already the first time we drove by her.

Four hours later Henry was fast asleep for the night, and Dave and I were settled on the couch watching a movie, me with smears of red frosting on my face and him enjoying the warm after-glow of an italian rum cupcake. It was a good way to end the day.

Posted by Jenn at 10:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

It's 9 Sunday night,
day 12 of NaBloPoMo.
I'm going to bed.

See you tomorrow.

Posted by Jenn at 09:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

6:40: Munching last bites of crab rangoon and digging bits of pork-fried rice from between our teeth after dinner of chinese take-out at my mom's house.

6:45: I'm surfing the web, Dave's washing dishes, and my mom's reading a book with Henry.

6:47: mom: "Ummm, I think Henry just pooped. He stinks."
Dave: *sniff-sniff* "Yeah, he smells pretty ripe." See's me coming from the dining room and sprints for the computer, letting us all know he'll be checking his email until we're done with the diaper.
me: *sniff-sniff* "That's doesn't smell normal. Let me go change him." I pull him out of his chair and sure enough, it's a case of diarhhea. He's soaked his pants on one side, right where I happened to put my hand.

6:49: Dave comes in to help change "The Diaper". I pull off Henry's pants and socks and run out of the room to put them somewhere, anywhere. My mom offers to rinse them so I hand them off to her, then go to the kitchen sink to wash my hands.

6:49:30: I hear Dave yelling from the bedroom: "I'VE BEEN ABANDONDED! I'VE BEEN ABANDONED!" so I run back and see him hoisting up Henry's entire lower body by his ankles with one hand and holding a sodden diaper in the other. He's frantically asking "Where are the wipes? I can't find them! Where are the wipes?"

6:53: Henry's clean. It was such a big, stinky mess that Dave and I make the executive decision to just throw him in the bath. I head to the bathroom to start filling up the tub.

6:55: Henry's naked and standing next to the tub, ready to jump in. We look towards the general area of the tub drain and see a cloud of black stuff. I turn off the water and open the drain. The water doesn't go anywhere. I close the drain back up and lot more black stuff poofs out from under the drain stopper. Uh-oh.

6:57: Henry's running around the condo, throroughly enjoying himself. My mom says: "Boy, he sure does like running around naked doesn't he?" I pray he doesn't make like a fountain.

7:05: Dave's trying to unclog the drain with a snake. I overhear my mom saying she had told my dad to do something about this a while ago because they had been noticing that the drain was really slow. I think with glee about just how much trouble my dad is in.

7:10: Henry is installed in the kitchen sink, sitting in three inches of water. He splashes and splashes and splashes. My mom comes in, takes one look and says "I'll go get a towel."

7:10:30: She comes back with a towel and mops up around the sink. Henry splashes. My mom leaves the room saying "I'll go get another towel."

7:14: I'm almost done with Henry's bath. In comes my mom who steps in a big puddle, looks at me and says "oh dear", then turns and goes down into the basement to make sure there isn't a leak in the pipes somewhere. Dave and I get Henry dressed and I mop up kitchen floor. And backsplash. And counter. And cabinets.

7:18-7:40: Me and my mom entertain Henry and watch "Welcome Back Kotter" while Dave continues to mess around with the drain. My parents have a blood pressure cuff so I take mine and it comes back reading 120/80. I'm feeling very smug. All that excitement and I'm totally chill.

7:41: Dave yells that he's unclogged the drain. There is much celebrating.

7:41:30: I lament the fact that my dad is no longer in big trouble.

Posted by Jenn at 06:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A couple of weeks ago Dave and I drove into Boston for the day. Dave was going to work and I was going to go spend the day with my mom. He had mentioned the day before that he was thinking of having me drop him off at MIT, which is in the middle of Cambridge, which in turn would require truly embroiling myself into the nightmare that is Boston driving. Boston drivers. Ever heard of them? They're scary. I immediately started planning out what route I would take to get my mom's house. If I go this way I'd have to make a left turn against traffic at this intersection. If I go that way there's a horrifying merge. I fretted and fretted all night long and was practically frantic by the time we got into the car to go. Halfway to Cambridge Dave casually mentions he's thinking of just going straight to my mom's and taking the T. Huge relief. Angels singing. That's how much Boston driving freaks me out.

This morning finds us driving into Boston so Dave can work and I can go spend the day with my mom. A few miles from the city, he mentions he's thinking of having me drop him off at work. I immediately start plotting how I'm going to get to my parents house. Also, I'm thinking Dave's a genius because perhaps he learned after the last time that maybe he shouldn't tell me things in advance, that he should just spring them on me at the last minute so I can't waste so much of my time freaking out. Dave pulled over at MIT which left me to man the controls. I got onto Memorial Drive, actually managed to stay in my lane which is more than I can say for other people, merged for construction, got onto route 2, fielded two absolutely ridiculously huge rotaries which don't freak me out at all but which probably should, then the piece de resistance: I parallel parked. Between two cars. Awesome.

For me, driving in Boston is kind of like worrying about giving birth. You spend all of this time fretting about the pain and the epidural, so much so that by the time you're actively in the middle of it and it's not *so* horrible and you realize you *will* live, you wonder why you wasted all that time worrying about it in the first place.

Posted by Jenn at 06:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just put my hand on the computer mouse and noticed there's petrified, half-masticated goldfish cracker on it. The kid just can't let go of the mouse. We tell him constantly not to touch it, and yet every three seconds there he is at the computer table, standing on tippy-toe, straining to reach it. Now he's become wary enough of our barrage of "No Henry's!" that he looks out for us while he's doing it, and if he should be so unlucky as to get caught in the act, he gets a wide-eyed look of innocence, clearing trying to convey the fact that an unseen force is currently controlling his body and even though it looks like he's trying to grab the mouse, he's in fact trying very hard not to. He would like you to know that despite his earnest efforts, somehow the unseen force wins every time.

Posted by Jenn at 03:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's gray and rainy and sometimes foggy here in Salem today. Every time I look out the window I want to retreat to the couch with a white surrender flag, a cup of hot chocolate heavy on the marshmallows, a blanket, and my book ("I Am Charlotte Simmons" for those who are interested). But alas, there is a toddler running around these here neck of the woods so retreat of any kind is pretty much impossible, at least not the all-day kind of retreat I'm looking for. If I was still working, this would definitely be a mental-health sick day.

Earlier this afternoon Henry and I got in the car and drove over to the mall so I could take our broken PowerShot in to be repaired. The camera store sends the cameras back to the manufacturer with a turnaround period of 6-8 weeks and a cost of $175. Having been told those two bits of information, it looks like we're officially in the market for a new camera. I looked at a few that they had for sale but wasn't completely enamored with any of them. All I'm really looking for in a camera is one that will take a picture as soon as I press the button. Nothing makes me want to tear my hair out more than my camera deciding it's not ready to take a picture even though I've expressly told it to. For that reason I tended to keep our now broken one set permanently on the action setting, a fact which some of you more seasoned digital photographers could maybe tell.

Since we're apparently going to be financing a tv in January, I guess we'll probably be taking a look at cameras then as well. In the meantime, my mom has lent me her camera but her rechargeable battery has gone to the great rechargeable battery landfill in the sky and a new one is on backorder. I bought a non-rechargeable one and wore it out pretty quickly. All of this is my long-winded way of saying it might be a while before any current pictures are posted on our flickr site.

Posted by Jenn at 03:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm drawing a blog topic blank today. I'm feeling hot and kind of woozy and pretty tired, and it's crossed my mind that I may be coming down with something, but we won't go there.

On Sunday I'm going to a book club meeting with my dad. The book they're reading is "The Invisible Man" by Ralph Ellison. I read it this past August. You know how the onset of Fall gets you into "school is about to start" mode, even though you've been out of school for who knows how long? Right after Labor day I'll find myself standing in the aisle of a big box store staring whistfully at the racks of empty notebooks, folders, and unsharpened pencils, dreaming about the endless possibilites a single blank page of lined paper holds. And then I snap out of it and thank god I'm all done with the whole education thing because lord knows, nothing sucks the wind out of a room like having to internalize the minutiae of history, math, science, and Wacky Wiffle Ball. Can you tell I was an English major? One thing I did love about school (despite the associated threat of September book reports or, even worse, oral presentations) were the summer reading lists we got on the last day of classes. Imagine my giddy excitement this past August when I happened to walk into Waldenbooks and saw one whole section devoted to local schools' summer reading lists. I was pretty impressed with their choices. They're reading some pretty heavy stuff. One of them happened to be "The Invisible Man". I wasn't reading anything at the time and the description intrigued me so I bought it. It was really good. I mentioned it to my dad and he mentioned it to the book club, and there you have it.

That was an unnecessarily long paragraph. Maybe I should go back and see if I can't get break it in twain. (Did you catch the use of the word twain just now? It's an english major thing.) Or maybe I just won't bother.

I don't love talking about books I've read because how I feel or what I think about them is generally something I have a hard time putting into words. Do you think loudly crunching on chips dipped in salsa counts as actually saying something? Probably not. I'd better go thumb through the book to refresh my memory.

Posted by Jenn at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

David here. I wanted to relate last night's tragic adventure. Last night, Jenn insisted (quite forcefully) that I go straight out to Best Buy and buy an HDTV. I protested with great sincerity, but she shoved me out the door with a clear mandate. Dreaming of hundreds of thousands of pixels I dutifully went to the local Best Buy. I was certain I would soon be cramming the HPLC3760N LCD TV in the car. Yup, I'd done my internet research and this little beaut with unusually deep blacks, builtin HD tuner, lots of ports, and a well rounded picture quality was my idea of a perfect entry-level HDTV that would make us happy for many years to come. Remember that : HDTV = happiness (this will come up again).

I ask the first sales person,"Can you comment on the performance of this HP? I'm thinking of it for watching DVDs mainly". He says,"For DVD's you gotta go BluRay" and whisks me off to the store BluRay demo. "This 1080p setup", he utters in an oddly husky voice getting very serious and solemn,"would come to about $3300, and you don't want to get stuck with those 720 line TVs."

No good - I stared at HDTVs until the next sales person came around. There were about 10 of them and in turn each of them asked me if I needed help and in turn I asked each one about my beloved HP3760N. "To be honest", pipes the next one,"it's overpriced and no better than those generics", and he leers insultingly at the generic TVs.

I'm clinging to the memory of the fast 6 ms refresh time, the 176 degree viewing angle, and the digital comb filter when I realize I'm really not asking the right question. I say to the third one,"can you compare this HP screen to this smaller samsung screen?". "Sure!", she exclaims joyously,"the Samsung is better!". I helplessly mutter something, but she carries on,"it's down to Sony and Samsung now - that's what you want to look at, esp. for DVDs".

I consider this nugget of advice when approached by the next one who says,"Yeah stick with Samsung or Sony because you know they're putting good parts inside" and then I see him go off and talk a pair of eager customers out of a plasma HDTV that was (gasp) not a Sony or Samsung - and he went to good lengths to assure them that despite how good it looked, they would be disappointed unless they went with (yes, you guessed it) "Samsung or Sony". (we'll call it S&S for short from now on)

I started working through the remainder of the sales teens. Each of them had the party line down, proclaiming that S&S were the best and I should steer clear even of Best Buy's own generic brand. I expressed my interest over and over in the HP and in turn each of them looked at me as if,"you aren't geek enough to deserve an HDTV". I went to MIT - I memorized every line in Ghostbusters - I *AM* geek enough, the thoughts fill my head like a thousand interdimensional Enterprises in episode 11 of TNG season 7. "If you can't buy a 1080p TV, you might as well not buy.", another one comments.

And just like the guys who were talked out of a 50" Plasma TV, I give up and I realize - they're all right. The standard wars are bloody and fierce and unresolved and who knows what will be obsolete in a couple of years; the TV's have too many weaknesses like pixelation, bad blacks, ghosting, shimmering, burn-in, etc. In fact after I spent an hour training my eyes on them I realized that most HDTV's are pretty crappy, even the S&S ones. I could see the flaws, shimmers and outlines and realized it - it's all a scam. In geek speak, HDTV != happiness. I can't wait to go home and hug my warm CRT.

Posted by Dave at 07:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

While we were in the process of buying a condo in 2000, we got a cell phone so our realtor only had to remember one phone number for us instead of three. Once we closed on the place, our cell gathered dust in my bag, only seeing the light of day when we would thoughtfully call our destination ahead of our arrival to see if we should pick up any soda or beer. Pretty convenient if the party on the other end was parched, but probably not worth the $25 a month we were paying for the privilege of making that phone call. After our two-year service commitment expired, we didn't bother renewing.

Last August, we decided since we were having a kid and would want to make the all-important string of "We had a boy!" calls five minutes after Henry came into the world, we signed up for another cell plan. Dave wanted a competitive plan with good roaming rates since we travel a lot. I wanted a phone that flipped open and shut. What I didn't realize until a few months after getting the phone was that the simple act of flipping open the phone is all it takes to answer a call. Also, to end a call, you just flip it shut. Ain't technology a wonder? What clued me in to those two features was an episode of Gilmore Girls that featured Rory and Lorelai feverishly fielding cell calls with a great flurry of phone flips.

Fast forward to today. I missed a call from my mom so I called her back on her cell while waiting outside a store for Dave.

Ring...ring...ring...(my dad's voice) "-right here!" *click*

I redial her number and two seconds later my mom answers. "Your dad hung up on you." We giggled a bit over his general technophobia, get down to the important matter of discussing pumpkin cookie recipes, then hang up. When Dave got back to the car I told him what happened and said my dad must not have known that you answer a call just by flipping open the phone. There was much silence. Apparently Dave didn't either. I think they need to watch more Gilmore Girls.

Posted by Jenn at 04:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Today we drove out to Worcester to catch the Bucknell-Holy Cross game. When I was in college I never really got into the whole college sports thing because I was too busy dancing at Oz on Bourbon, playing Doom, or studying. Mostly the first two last one. Also, the UNO stadium was kind of far away from campus and me and my friends were both uninterested and extremely lazy. After UNO I went to Oakland University in MI for one Spring semester and was completely oblivious to any sports that may have been going on while I was there, so oblivious that I just googled them to see if they even have a sports team. They do: the Grizzlies. UMass Boston, being a long trek on the T, brings us full circle right back to uninterested and lazy.

In 2003, my parents came down and visited us for a week during our first Fall in Lewisburg. My dad noticed their visit coincided with a Bucknell home game and asked if we'd mind going. I grudgingly agreed, and after spending three hours of my life sitting on really uncomfortable metal bleacher seats eating nachos, pretzels, and Twizzlers, I was completely hooked. I still don't understand football besides knowing the basics of when something good or bad has happened (and sometimes I only know that based on the reaction of the people around me), but I really dig the collegiate sports vibe. I like the fight songs and the pep bands and the mascots. I like getting decked out in orange and blue and screaming like an idiot. Also, I like the food.

Since we missed out on all of last year's football season (thanks to Henry having just been born) we were very excited to be able to catch today's game in Worcester. We had a quick lunch at Wendy's before driving over to the football field. If you've ever driven in Worcester you won't be surprised to learn we took a few wrong turns (thanks to mom and me) and ended up driving around for about half an hour before finding the stadium. This was maddening because most of the time we could see the stadium, we just couldn't find a road that would take us there. Once the game was underway, Henry was captivated by the University mascot (Bucky the Bison), Henry and my dad were captivated by the cheerleaders, I was captivated by the prospect of apple crisp, my mom was captivated by the pep band, and Dave yelled "GOOD D" a lot. That about sums up the day. Oh, and Bucknell lost. Also, after the game, we got in the car, drove a block, and stopped at a red light that was right next to the Wendy's we'd had lunch at. All that driving around and we'd started out a block away from the stadium. Sigh.

Posted by Jenn at 07:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Henry's at the age where he's probably thinking about opening his mouth and waxing poetic in some sort of coherent manner. At his 12-month checkup ,the nurse seemed surprised that he hadn't started saying "mama" or "dada" yet, a fact which didn't bother me much because when he's ready to, he'll talk. She asked if he had at least started imitating our sounds, and while at that time he was making some sort of sound most of the time he was awake and running around, he was not really actively imitating us. So being the good parent that I am, I lied and said yes. Since I'm confessing my misdeeds, I should tell you I also lied and said he was playing "pat-a-cake" (god I loves me a good hyphenated word), but only because I didn't know how to play it myself and I figured who am I to say he couldn't when maybe he could if it wasn't for his mother's ignorance re: games that require hand clapping. I do know "Miss Mary Mac" so I'll make it up to him later by teaching him that. He'll be a hit with the girls on the school bus.

For the last couple of weeks, Henry's been reaching for things and saying "nee-nee!" and "ner-ner!" with great vehemence, so he's obviously trying to get some point across. Lately I've been madly pointing objects out to him and telling him what they are to see if he's struck by the sound of something enough to repeat it but haven't really had much luck with that m.o. Finally, one day last week while he was in the tub (his most favorite place to be), he stood up to get a toy and flashed his pudgy, bubble-covered bum at me. When he sat back down I said "Hey Henry, can you say 'bum-bum'?". "Mum-mum." "Bum-bum!" "Mum-mum." And there was much rejoicing.

I could go on from here and say that everyday he's discovering and practicing a new sound, but then I'd be lying and I wouldn't do that to you because you're not my pediatrician. He's very pleased with his vocabulary of "nee-nee", "ner-ner", and "mum-mum", which he also says in reference to me (although to be fair, sometimes he just says "mum"). One day I'm sure Dave will take great pleasure in telling Henry that he used to call me "bum-bum".

Posted by Jenn at 09:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Nothing screams November 1st in New England like 68 degree weather. With all of the talk of late about how the climate (and environment in general) is going to hell, it's just not as nice a surprise to be able to sit outside at ten in the morning in only your pj's with a glass of iced water next to you. November is for bundling up, for tossing aside the light sweaters of early Fall and snuggling into a big coat, pulling on a cozy hat, and sitting on a bench somewhere downing hot cocoa while watching the last of the leaves fall to the ground. Not that I've ever done that, but, you know, it's a fine idea isn't it?

Not that we didn't wake advantage of the nice weather. My mom, myself, and Henry all headed out to the local park to get in some serious playtime. The park is divided into two sections, one for older kids and one for the 0-5 years set. The part dedicated to the younger crowd is gated off and has swings and a playset that has a slide and bells and all sorts of fun stuff. Underneath it there's a big sandbox that's full of plastic toys that have been left behind or donated by the many kids who have played there in years past. There are shovels and rakes, a plastic stove, a playhouse. Basically a kid magnet.

When we first arrived no one was there. Within twenty minutes, the place was packed. I fought my usual urge to pick up Henry and run away when the first few kids trickled in, remembering item three on my list of birthday resolutions. As it turns out it was a lot of fun. Henry had the toy he was playing with stolen by a young lady (~ his age) who came up and grabbed it from him. He briefly wondered what had happened and then made his way over to her to take it back but she was not giving it up. Her mom made her give it back to Henry and she burst into tears. Henry didn't seemed bothered by it, probably because he's seen this behavior in his own mother when she has to give back something she's taken from Dave. There was another little boy there who was Henry's age judging from how they both stared with wonder at all the activity of the older kids who were running around and wreaking general havoc. Eventually he came over to Henry and handed him his truck. Henry dropped his rake and took it, and they both stared at each other. Finally I leaned over and picked up Henry's rake asking him if he'd like to let the other boy play with it since he'd been so kind as to give Henry his truck. Silence and more staring. I handed the rake to other kid and he took it. More silence. More staring. It was really cute.

When we got home Henry was completely wiped out and ready for his nap. I took his shoes off and each one had about a gallon of sand in them, surprising considering they're only size fours.

Posted by Jenn at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

After 14 months of having Henry around, our ability to get out of the house in an organized and timely manner is still practically non-existent. We made two trips with arms- and strollers-full of stuff to bring to Cambridge for Halloween, and once Henry, Flash, and myself were buckled in, Dave made two more trips for stuff we forgot but remembered once we were in the car.

Halloween was a lot of fun. We stuffed Henry into his spider outfit and then spent two hours chasing after him as he ran up and down all of the streets. Lots of people ooh-ed and aah-ed over him, one person chastised me for not having my camera with which to document every moment of cuteness for posterity (To do that I'd have to have a camcorder constantly running because he's cute *all* the time. No really, he is. I'm not the only person who thinks that. My mom does too, and she's not biased at all.), and one little girl came up and gave him a big hug. I think she wanted to take him home with her. At one point Henry got down on his hands and knees to haul himself up over the curb and onto the sidewalk. He looked very much like a spider while he was doing that, and a small group of people stopped to watch him. When he finally stood up (as chance would have it, right in the middle of a wash of light from a nearby flood light), everbody started cheering and clapping. He looked vaguely shocked and confused, and then he just started smiling. It was like "A Star is Born". If he decides to try and make it on Broadway, I'll look back on that moment and won't be surprised at all.

The other member of our family who was a huge hit was Flash, who was dressed up as a lobster. All the kids loved her. Unfortunately (and not surprisingly), Flash was unimpressed with all of the scary monsters who were trying to pet her so we took her upstairs after about twenty minutes.

Perhaps the highlight of the evening was the thirteen or fourteen year old girl who looked at Dave's pi pumpkin and said "Hey, that's pi..." after which my mom and I freaked out because no one else had picked up on it. We both shouted "She got it! She got it! It's "pumpkin pi"!" The group of kids she was with started laughing. Her father stared at the pumpkin for a while and as the kids started drifting towards the next house he asked "Math joke?", looked at it again, nodded, then smiled and said "Happy Halloween".

I'll post pictures as soon as I get back up to Salem later this evening.

Posted by Jenn at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)