State Fair Joy

Hank is scared of every ride that moves (that would be EVERY RIDE). Hope wants to go on The Screamer, The Zipper, The Executioner, and The Jump Your Motorcycle Over the Fountain at Caesar's Palace ride. She is the Evel Knievel of the Hanson family.

There was a little rain, a little bit of crying, a little bit of complaining. But we had the best time:



Click on the above picture to see more of the "State Fair" set.

Or try this link and see if it takes you to a slide-show.

I take that back

Maybe just one complaint: The three year-old poured a yogurt drink on Peggy's back and then skated in the mess on the kitchen floor while I was trying to talk on the phone to the mortgage guy.

No complaints from me today

My dry house is full of four screaming, yelling, giggling, fighting children, (one of whom has refused to put on her pants and underpants on for the past hour that I've been on the phone with mortgage guys), dog hairballs rolling on the kitchen floor, and dirty laundry and dishes.

But our toilet flushes. We have heat and A/C, a car, food in the fridge, family photos, clean clothes to wear and fresh water to drink.

The damage and loss is mind-boggling.

Hammerin' Hank

Cousin Anson helped out with garage cleaning and remodeling over the weekend. Hank and Hope look up to him like he's a rock star! He is an awesome guy. He showed great patience with his three and five year-old cousins and taught them how to hammer a nail.





He had them sign their names by their work:

Overdose

Note to self: A little bit of Splenda goes a long way. I will never again in the same day consume Starbuck's Sugar Free Ice Cream and Pillsbury Sugar Free Cinnamon Rolls. There's not enough baking soda in the world to make this okay.

Alien vs. alien

16 year-old babysitter's alien



vs.

5 year-old's alien

What's with the capes?

Many months ago Hank tied a knot in the fringe of the blanket his Aunt Dani made him. He wears it sometimes several times a day. It makes for an unwieldy cape, if you ask me. It's good for a blanket but it's a big and bulky cape. But he loves it and it provides him not only with warmth at night, but many hours of fun throughout the day. Five out of seven nights, when we go in to check on the kids before heading to bed, Hank will have put that big blanket cape around his neck prior to falling asleep. Gary or I pull it over his head and hope we don't wake him up.

So tonight I went in his room to check and there he was, looking like he was going to strangle in the night with that blanket around his neck. I pulled it off and he kept snoozing away. I was about to walk away when I noticed he had a friend with him tonight. I took it into the bathroom so I could snap a picture for you:



It appears that Mr. Snickers has a thing for capes, too!

Movie time

Okay, so I took my friend Mary's advice and accepted the trial offer from Netflix. The first three movies on deck are Zero Effect (seen it before -- awesome soundtrack), The Man Who Wasn't There, and Lost in La Mancha.

Rage of the road

What is wrong with some people on the road in this town? I know a lot of people in the Twin Cities don't like to let other people merge onto the highway in front of them. Everyone rides everyone's bumper and everyone is under the impression that this behavior will pay off with a ten second earlier arrival to whatever destination they need to get to yesterday. They refuse to make eye contact and they pretend you're not there on the on-ramp to 394 or 100.

But, you know, I always felt like I had a chance with the old lady crowd. I really did. It has been my experience that edlerly ladies in any kind of car will wave you in ahead of them most of the time. They're kind and they are .... in .... no .... hurry. Go right ahead young lady, feel free to merge safely ahead of me. I, the elderly lady, have your back.

Not tonight. No siree! I was merging onto 100 South, headed for a choral rehearsal, when a carload of elderly women barely gave me enough room to squeeze in ahead of them. I gestured to the driver through my rearview mirror as if to say, "Would it have killed you to give me three extra inches to get in ahead of you?" And she gestured back to me, LAUGHING AT ME WITH HER CARLOAD OF OLD LADY FRIENDS!, "You stupid idiot. If you can't get up to 70 in three seconds on the on-ramp, you have no business having a drivers license." And then I said, "Oh yeah?" And then she said, "Oh yeah!"

And then she passed me, going 80.

And she was driving an Audi.

I swear she was at least 79 years old.

Recipe of the day

Cherry Jello with Cream Cheese Cubes

3 ounce box black cherry jello
1 cup boiling water
8 ounces cold cola
8 ounces cream cheese, cubed
1 cup dark cherries, pitted and drained


Dissolve jello in boiling water. Cool and add cola, cream cheese, and cherries. Pour into 6 cup mold. Chill until set. Unmold to serve.

Don't knock it 'til you tried it. Just sayin'.

Lame

Mr. Bickerson is convinced that he can turn me into a Jethro Tull fan this fall by making me go to a concert with him, his best friends, and his sister and brother-in-law. I doubt it.

Anyway.

The tickets came in the mail today and LUCKY US! they included a FREE TRIAL coupon for UNLIMITED DVDs from NETFLIX! Of course you have to search online to find out how long the free trial lasts before they start charging you a monthly fee. The free trial lasts two puny weeks. I am becoming cheap and stingy in my old age. Is this a LAME-O offer? Or am I just a big old crab these days?

That's the spirit

Overheard at the "Spiderman Park" while I was encouraging Hope to try to climb the nets by herself:

"Oh god, I can't do it."

My daughter, the 3-going-on-63 year-old pessimistic couch potato, unexcited by climbing activities.

Chucky Cheese

I had been holding off on Chucky Cheese. We had never been there before Friday. Aside from spending too much money on arcade games, we all had a great time! Chaz himself was there and all the birthday kids had the opportunity to dance with him. Hope preferred to cling to her dad's neck like a monkey and Hank dived (literally) under the booth table to hide as Cheese Diddy walked by. That Hank is one nervous boy around costumed characters.
18 Wheeler

Skeeball

First cotton candy


Personal space bubble

Happy family

Hope

This was you three years ago today:

Hope is born.

This is you today:



Look at that smile. You are the sunshine in our life. I'm not saying you don't have your cranky moments (!) but you are so funny and smart and loving to us. You talk nonstop and have quite the advanced language skills for a three year-old. Your big brother, your dad and I love you SO much.

Happy Birthday, Sweetness!

Blah

Rain, rain go away
Come again some other day

Phooey on the rain. There's no excuse for me not to clean the house, I guess.

This cheers me up. It will take you to my new, favorite television commercial, which boots the Geico Caveman commercials from my first place spot. Click on the clown.

Sympathy

If this is what happened to Tom Cruise, I'm going to cut him a little bit of slack. He is messed up.

Fantastic.

I was born a worry-wort. I had been learning to curb it, and now this?

Teeny tiny missiles from space are coming to smash us all to smithereens!

Bob Fosse and his protege

Grandma Ju Ju gave Tikka an early birthday present consisting of a ballet barre, videotape, and mat with footprints for first position, second, etc. Here's a little photo essay that might give you an idea of who was most interested in learning to dance.

Worker bee

I was very proud of my almost three year-old this weekend. Nobody can call her lazy. She asked for work all day long. She stayed busy with sweeping and toilet-bowl cleaning and even paint stripping.

Will this characteristic of her personality stick? Time will tell.

No bark

Before kids there were dogs. And when there were dogs and no kids I shuddered in horror with thoughts of training collars and electric underground fences. How could someone be so cruel to use aversive conditioning to train a dog not to bark or run or dig?

Things change when you have children. Gary and I thought pretty highly of ourselves when we decided to have kids. We will be older. We will be more mature. We will be better able to deal with the trials and tribulations of child-rearing. They will fit into our lives; not vice versa. The house will not look like a Toys R Us outlet. My feet will not stick to the kitchen floor. There will never be food in the car. I will never yell at my child. I will set firm limits and abide by them with consistent consistency; I will never let my child eat chocolate chips for breakfast, for example.

AHH HAAA HAAA HAAA Ahaaaa HAAA ha ha ha...

Ha.

If I can't stop my daughter from eating chocolate chips for breakfast, by god I WILL stop this dog from barking at every f*&!'n leaf that blows in our yard! I borrowed a training collar from my next door neighbors (who used to have the world's most awesomely well-behaved labrador). I tested the lowest zap setting on my leg. Scary but not painful. I put the collar on Peggy and tested it one time to see if she would react. Reaction? A quizzical look with ears at attention. And the barking has ceased for now.

I am Master of my Domain.

Pass the chips.

Naptime

While the precious one sleeps I have treated myself to an hour of hilarity on Bravo. Last night I recorded Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List. I'm gonna be sick from laughing.

Voiceover Kathy: "My wonderful, incredible, handsome husband has accidently gained 100 pounds since we met."

Kathy to her husband: "So where do you want to go eat? I could do meatballs, or chicken, or whatever. It doesn't matter. Or we could go to Krispy Kreme. If that's what you want. 'Cause it's all about you."

Training

The Twin Cities Marathon is two months away and this morning I detected a flaw in my experimental running training plan, also known as the very little running beyond 3-5 mile regular short runs with dog and kids in tow and a few semi-long distances plan. The problem? Lactic acid. Ouch. I went for a 14 mile run this morning, having not run since before Ragbrai. And I took Peggy with me. While 14 miles is a good long run for a dog, I figured at my pace Peggy could go all day. I told her just to pretend she was on a big Australian farm and was herding cattle. Her mother was a blue heeler, for goodness sake.

Peggy did great but Mr. Bickerson and the kids started to worry about me. They didn't know I was leaving the house to take my dog with me on a 14 mile run. They found me at the 12th mile and I let them take Peggy home. I should have let them take me, too, because in the last mile it felt like my legs turned to wood. It's going to be pretty embarrassing to stiffen up like that on Minnehaha Parkway in October. I like to save the wooden legged shuffle for at least mile 21-22 of an official marathon where all the spectators are shouting, "YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!!" and you want to slug them.

Hmm. I'm sensing an increasing level of hostility in my post today. I appear to NOT be benefiting from the so-called running endorphins. Where's the running happiness?

Summer happenings

Tooth number two is history.

The many moods of summer sports camp:



Soccer ball to the head:



Candy from the coach makes it all okay:

Boo boo

It was quiet for three minutes in the house this morning. I shoulda known something was up:

Naked bowling in Minnesota

A subset of the Tall Dogs was all hot to plan a route to cross the Minnesota border on the Thursday leg of the ride. Word has it that there was one full frame of naked bowling in a local Minnesota bowling alley.

How much fruit can you stuff in your bike shorts?

In one of the pass through towns contestants had 60 seconds to jump in the city pool and see how many pieces of fruit they could stuff inside their bike shorts. I was much too dignified to participate in it.

Key to Ragbrai happiness

Showers. Tall Dog traveled with its own set of four showers. It was much nicer to have showers right there at camp instead of having to wait in line with 400-500 people at a nearby school or carwash.