Queue the music. (Mission Impossible or general 007 theme)
The transformation is complete. I have infiltrated their ranks. Topics of discussion this week alone have included: what is the best way to get food stains, especially pizza sauce, out of clothes; how can I prepare cauliflower so a toddler will eat it (turns out it's just not possible), and the effective use of the time out.
I race home at lunch to do laundry or vacuum or clean the bathroom or do any of the other things that are difficult to do with a toddler awake and under foot. Before beginning this entry I wormed through a few other blogs while I folded clothes, that were washed at lunch today. A few new items were in the regular mix, items I purchased at a garage sale (talk about suburban mom when I was a city mom I went to resale shops for second hand). I am amazed at the quality of E's new clothes. There is no wear, no tear, not a stain in sight. Did the boy even wear them? (Actually one pair of sweats still had the price tag on them.) What does this family use for laundry detergent and where can I get it?
When I was a city mom E's clothes were so much cleaner. I used Dreft on all his clothes and would soak badly stained clothes in a bucket of OxyClean and water. Obviously the properties of baby poop are different than those of pizza sauce. Perhaps All allergen free isn't a good product -- but it works on my clothes. Maybe the water is different (very possibe, the water out here is awful stuff).
My concerns are different in the 'burbs than they were in the city when E was younger. My main worries then were where am I going to park the car and which jar food will I give him tonight. Now that he eats the same food I do I have to think a lot more about meals. I need to worry about nutrition (hear the playground taunt on that last word?), taste and ease of preparation. The latter is really important because E wants to help cook. His cooking may only be putting the vegetables I just cut into the steamer basket (well away from the heat) or taking garabage to the trash can, but he wants to be in the action, to the point of sometimes not wanting to eat when it's time because he'd rather "cook it".
Tonight was one of those nights he wouldn't stay in his seat. He is a "big boy" now and sits on an Ikea step stool at meals. Tonights he was going to have none of that. I had to tell him repeatedly that he didn't need to "cook" anything else. After finishing his MEELK he asked for juice. I obliged, telling him "2-hands to drink". He stood at the end of the counter and practically poured the juice out because even though he was holding the glass with 2 hands he wasn't paying attention to whether the cup was upright or not. I cleaned up the mess and told him to sit on the rug in front of the door to finish his juice. He sat down and did it again.
TIME OUT! He was to sit on the stool in the middle of the kitchen and be quiet, no talking, no touching anything, no playing with anything. And for the next week he will have to sit in the high chair for meals. The no talking thing was hardest on him and he began to jabber within moments. I was still upset and told him that if he kept talking when I told him not to he would be in the high chair for 2 weeks. He will be in the high chair for 2 weeks.
To be taken off of a time out requires an act of contrition including the apology, usually accompanied by a hug or kiss, and a statement of what will change. Tonight it was "I will pay attention." I got the apology with a hug and a kiss but E refused to say "I will pay attention." I couldn't have a war of wills into the wee hours, he needed to go to bed so I picked him up like a sack of potatoes and carried him upstairs to get ready for bed. While he was sitting on the potty -- one of the night time rituals -- he reluctantly said it.
He may be 2 months from his birthday, but he is definitely in the terrible 2s and my patience is wearing thin. Lord help us!
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
Monday, September 27, 2004
vocabulary words
That phrase was terrifying in school. You were supposed to learn those particular words, know how to spell them, use them in a sentence and make them part of your regular speech. It was a daunting task. The one word I remember learning as a vocabulary work was "surroundings". It was wonderful knowing it meant everything around you. I was 7 or 8 and it seemed like such a big word it had those double r's and all.
Well now my surroundings are filled with toddler toys and vocabulary is again an important part of my life. E's pronunciation is not the best, but it is damned cute at times. We were practicing naming, counting and matching the other day with a basket full of rattles, finger puppets and small stuffed animals. He has 2 'raffes, 3 e'phants, 2 burdies (one is a regular bird the other is a duck) and he has a rhinus in each of the aforementioned categories. Rhinus is my favorite, I can see Linus carrying his blanket with a giant horn coming out of his head.
The evolution of understanding and vocabulary is very interesting to watch. For the past several months we have gone to the PA'K to play on the 'wings and the slides. This weekend we went on a long walk and we were going to end up at the park. As we got nearer and nearer our final destination E began yelling, as an excited toddler will do, PLAYGROUND! This is the first time I had ever heard him say this word and was amazed by it's clarity.
Last night we went out to eat at IHOP, our favorite restaurant. I asked for extra napkins because a rooty tooty fresh and fruity junior tends to get messy in the hands of a toddler who prefers fingers to a fo'k. As I was wiping his hands he said PAPER TOWEL. That was a surprise. I didn't know he knew that word.
The thing that really floored me this weekend was the trip to Micheal's. We were killing time before the BarReeRee (library) opened so we ambled down each aisle on the hunt for the elusive CIRCLE. He knows some shapes and circles are easiest for him to identify so we were looking for them. We were in the unfinished wood aisle and I was looking at the letters thinking about perhaps putting his name on one of the walls in his bedroom. I picked up an E and asked him what it was and he said, "E". I knew they were working on E in school the other day, because there are 2 boys in his class whose names start with E, but I didn't really expect him to be identifying it so quickly and confidently. I asked him about another letter expecting to get "E" as a response. He correctly identifed "G". Pick me up and dust me off, the boy's a genius.
His ability to properly identify colors is getting better and better too. He really knows owange and can generally get blue, though at times he will say it's green. But if he doesn't know a color it's always purple. I think that's because it's fun to say. "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" was the book selection this month in his classroom. I have been reading him this book since he was 6 months old and he has been able to identify the animals for me for quite some time, but when I asked about colors he never said much. The teacher reads it for a couple of days and he's identifing the next animal and color before the page is turned.
Our woolurd (world) is changing everyday as he connects words with objects and ideas. It's getting really exciting.
Well the house is quiet, E has been asleep for hours and even the neighbors have decided to call it a day. The clocks are tocking to one another. The office clock, the bathroom clock and E's bedroom clock are off by a tick and so in the stillness of night it sounds as if they are carrying on a conversation. I think I'll go listen in.
GOOD NIGHT
Well now my surroundings are filled with toddler toys and vocabulary is again an important part of my life. E's pronunciation is not the best, but it is damned cute at times. We were practicing naming, counting and matching the other day with a basket full of rattles, finger puppets and small stuffed animals. He has 2 'raffes, 3 e'phants, 2 burdies (one is a regular bird the other is a duck) and he has a rhinus in each of the aforementioned categories. Rhinus is my favorite, I can see Linus carrying his blanket with a giant horn coming out of his head.
The evolution of understanding and vocabulary is very interesting to watch. For the past several months we have gone to the PA'K to play on the 'wings and the slides. This weekend we went on a long walk and we were going to end up at the park. As we got nearer and nearer our final destination E began yelling, as an excited toddler will do, PLAYGROUND! This is the first time I had ever heard him say this word and was amazed by it's clarity.
Last night we went out to eat at IHOP, our favorite restaurant. I asked for extra napkins because a rooty tooty fresh and fruity junior tends to get messy in the hands of a toddler who prefers fingers to a fo'k. As I was wiping his hands he said PAPER TOWEL. That was a surprise. I didn't know he knew that word.
The thing that really floored me this weekend was the trip to Micheal's. We were killing time before the BarReeRee (library) opened so we ambled down each aisle on the hunt for the elusive CIRCLE. He knows some shapes and circles are easiest for him to identify so we were looking for them. We were in the unfinished wood aisle and I was looking at the letters thinking about perhaps putting his name on one of the walls in his bedroom. I picked up an E and asked him what it was and he said, "E". I knew they were working on E in school the other day, because there are 2 boys in his class whose names start with E, but I didn't really expect him to be identifying it so quickly and confidently. I asked him about another letter expecting to get "E" as a response. He correctly identifed "G". Pick me up and dust me off, the boy's a genius.
His ability to properly identify colors is getting better and better too. He really knows owange and can generally get blue, though at times he will say it's green. But if he doesn't know a color it's always purple. I think that's because it's fun to say. "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" was the book selection this month in his classroom. I have been reading him this book since he was 6 months old and he has been able to identify the animals for me for quite some time, but when I asked about colors he never said much. The teacher reads it for a couple of days and he's identifing the next animal and color before the page is turned.
Our woolurd (world) is changing everyday as he connects words with objects and ideas. It's getting really exciting.
Well the house is quiet, E has been asleep for hours and even the neighbors have decided to call it a day. The clocks are tocking to one another. The office clock, the bathroom clock and E's bedroom clock are off by a tick and so in the stillness of night it sounds as if they are carrying on a conversation. I think I'll go listen in.
GOOD NIGHT
The Green Bean Monster
The other day at dinner I told E he could have a juice bar, a favorite dessert, only if he ate at least one green bean. He has never been fond of green beans in their natural form. He wasn't even all that fond of them as baby food but he would eat whatever was put in his mouth then. Now it's all "No" and "I don' wan' it". The allure of a juice bar is strong however so he picked up a bean and tentatively put it in his mouth. He pinched off a bit with pursed lips and then did it again. Then the entire bean was eaten, then another and another.
"Mo'e p'ease." I spooned a few more beans on his plate. He ate them.
"Mo'e p'ease." I did it again and he ate all of those. I asked him if he liked them, his relpy was simply "Cookie Mon'ter".
"Are you the Green Bean Monster?"
"Yeah!" He ate all the beans we had.
The next night he wanted nothing to do with the chili mac I made -- he is not big on left overs that are reworked into other things. Chili mac is mac and cheese mixed with leftover sloppy joe, it's not bad but E was having nothing to do with the meat. He would put a fo'k full in his mouth and separate out the 'roni from the meat and spit out the meat. I served green beans with this meal and he pretty much just ate the beans.
He is particular about his beans though, they cannot be in something else. I used some leftover beans in beef stew. He was having none of that, gravy and beans should never meet. He refused to eat dinner.
Green beans are not the only vegetable that he will eat. He loves corn too. Tonight we had lasagna, a dish he has had before and just loved, and left over corn on the cob. I found the little corn holders for the ends of the ears so you don't burn yourself or get too messy with all the fixings. Neither was really a problem tonight. I served the ears unadorned with butter or other toppings and the temperature is what a coworker would call 'piss warm'. Perfect for a toddler. E refused to eat the lasagna and made a meal of an ear of corn.
"Mo'e p'ease." I spooned a few more beans on his plate. He ate them.
"Mo'e p'ease." I did it again and he ate all of those. I asked him if he liked them, his relpy was simply "Cookie Mon'ter".
"Are you the Green Bean Monster?"
"Yeah!" He ate all the beans we had.
The next night he wanted nothing to do with the chili mac I made -- he is not big on left overs that are reworked into other things. Chili mac is mac and cheese mixed with leftover sloppy joe, it's not bad but E was having nothing to do with the meat. He would put a fo'k full in his mouth and separate out the 'roni from the meat and spit out the meat. I served green beans with this meal and he pretty much just ate the beans.
He is particular about his beans though, they cannot be in something else. I used some leftover beans in beef stew. He was having none of that, gravy and beans should never meet. He refused to eat dinner.
Green beans are not the only vegetable that he will eat. He loves corn too. Tonight we had lasagna, a dish he has had before and just loved, and left over corn on the cob. I found the little corn holders for the ends of the ears so you don't burn yourself or get too messy with all the fixings. Neither was really a problem tonight. I served the ears unadorned with butter or other toppings and the temperature is what a coworker would call 'piss warm'. Perfect for a toddler. E refused to eat the lasagna and made a meal of an ear of corn.
Choosing a Mantra
According to those who use a mantra while meditating:
"The chosen word (of the mantra) should represent the Divine Reality or Deity of the individual according to his religious belief or the chosen stanza should reflect the ethical and spiritual values of the individual. The word is so chosen that it draws aspirant’s attention to the Spiritual Reality during the (meditation)."
Things are different for toddlers. They have their own rules for choosing the proper word or phrase as their mantra. The key seems to be current events. E's current favorite is "What happened?" of course there is "What doin'?" and the all time favorite "da dat?" (what's that? for those in need of a translation.) All are delivered in an inquisitive tone with that soft lift in his voice as he finishes. I'm generally patient with E. I've grown much more patient since he was born, but this new phase is testing the limits.
"What happened?" he asks as he points to the construction equipment and orange barrels lining the road near our house. I explain that they are building a road. The answer is unsatisfactory. The mantra appears.
No matter how hard I try I cannot come up with the right answer. The answer that will make the mantra stop. My best bet is to distract him the way Marlin distracts Dory in 'Finding Nemo', "Oh look, something shiny." It rarely works but it is worth a try.
"The chosen word (of the mantra) should represent the Divine Reality or Deity of the individual according to his religious belief or the chosen stanza should reflect the ethical and spiritual values of the individual. The word is so chosen that it draws aspirant’s attention to the Spiritual Reality during the (meditation)."
Things are different for toddlers. They have their own rules for choosing the proper word or phrase as their mantra. The key seems to be current events. E's current favorite is "What happened?" of course there is "What doin'?" and the all time favorite "da dat?" (what's that? for those in need of a translation.) All are delivered in an inquisitive tone with that soft lift in his voice as he finishes. I'm generally patient with E. I've grown much more patient since he was born, but this new phase is testing the limits.
"What happened?" he asks as he points to the construction equipment and orange barrels lining the road near our house. I explain that they are building a road. The answer is unsatisfactory. The mantra appears.
No matter how hard I try I cannot come up with the right answer. The answer that will make the mantra stop. My best bet is to distract him the way Marlin distracts Dory in 'Finding Nemo', "Oh look, something shiny." It rarely works but it is worth a try.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
the key thing
The last couple of days have been the perfect example of "what now?"
This weekend E and I wen to the library as we usually do on Saturday morning. He was cranky and refused to sit for story time. "I don' wan' it." Of course the tiredness didn't prohibit him from being loud in the regular AV department. He got his wish, we are leaving, but NO we are not we must climb the stairs to the second floor and ride the elevator down. As a "what now?" That wasn't too bad.
Putting him down for a nap after we returned home was a struggle. I ended up falling asleep as he played. He hit my arm and yelled in my face "Wake up!"
"That's it you're in the crib for a nap. Yawn. Mommy will just go lie down in her own bed."
Of course finding yourself in your own bed after you have fallen asleep elsewhere means you will NOT sleep. It's strange how you can find comfort in uncomfortable positions and manage to sleep. It just wasn't the same without the penguin beak in my back and the toy car under my leg.
After our naps and a bite to eat we, by that I mean E, had a lot of energy to burn. Let's walk. I grabbed the keys, put a stick in the slider and shut the back door. All was safe inside as we roamed the countryside. We walked across the neighboring gold course, under the road, over the tunnel we had just gone through and back the 6 or so blocks on the sidewalk. The sidewalk is quite close to a beautiful winding street where a pedestrian can't see an oncoming car until they are nearly next to you. It was when we got to the sidewalk that I had to begin carrying E and the toy lawn mower that we had to bring along on our adventure. You never know when something will need to be mowed. E was instructed to hold my hand and agreed but after the second car went by he saide "carry you" which means I carry him. Then he told me he was "kiyrd" which is how he says 'scared'. To get back home we had to walk past the park.
Of course the park must be visited. We must swing on swings and slide down slides and do all the things you do at the park. But it's getting late and we are losing daylight. It's time to go home and "eat eat". "Carry you!" Mommy's back is starting to ache and so E gets a horsey ride which is easier on the back -- ask any chiropractor.
We head to the patio and put the home lawnmower away first. Next stop front door. Deadbolt key is a perfect fit, doorknob works like a charm, OH MY GOD THE CHAIN IS ON THE DOOR. "AH SHIT WE'RE LOCKED OUT, again."
"Lock out?"
"Yes honey we are locked out."
What to do, what to do quick —— drive to the police station and ask for help.
"Lock out? Lock out?" The entire way to the police station E said "Lock out?"
We pull into the desolate parking lot and park the car. I get E out of his seat and walk up the flight of stairs to the main entrance. "Hello, I was hoping we'd never see the inside of this bldg but here we are." I told the woman behind the desk my sad tale of woe. There was an officer standing a few feet from her behind the thick bullet proof glass that separated us from them. He asked questions I thought I had just answered with my statement. Is he hard of hearing, looking for clarification or stupid? I began to lean toward the latter when he asked if I had walked from home.
I was instructed to go home, that an officer would be there to help. The entire way to home E repeated his new mantra "Lock out?" When I returned home there were 2 cars and 2 cops. They got out their flashlights and began asking if all the windows were locked. "Yes or they have the stops on them so you can only open them an inch or two." The first officer's hand reached around the door and tried to move the chain. Then the second officer's hand reached around the door and tried to move the chain. Did they really think I hadn't tried that?
I told them "You have my permission to cut the chain."
This caused them to pause and consider their options. "We could call the fire department, they are the ones with the bold cutters," Officer 1 said to Officer 2. Of course my mind sees the most outrageous things in that moment. I envision a ladder truck pulling up, lights flashing, sirens wailing and a guy runs up with a pair of bolt cutters, snips the chain and runs back into the truck. It's so very Monte Python.
"How about a coat hanger or something?" I suggest. When we were on our walk I saw a wire coat hanger on the ground a few houses away. Officer 2 starts working on the chain with his knife. Officer 1 leaves for a few minutes and returns with a slim jim. He bends and stretches and wiggles. I am holding the door open for the officers because it's a nice thing to do and it affords me the best view of the proceedings and of E who is still asking everyone "Lock out?"
E is growing bored with watching Officer 2's backside and begins to wander away. I try to set the lock on the door closer and go after him. It's not working. Now what? After a quick check Officer 1 informs me that it's on backwards. He wanders away as well and goes to check out the back door. E follows. "EH, EH," I stopped him from trampling the plants and told him to use the path. Officer 1's flash light goes on and illuminates E's way. Just then the door opens.
Hallelujah!
E helped make dinner. He put carrots in the steamer basket (well away from the steamer). He adopted a new mantra as well, "cook 'em". While the carrots steamed E watched a Barney video (it may be worse than I originally thought, but that's a blog for another day) and I called my sister. She had a similar tale to tell. About a decade or so ago the bar to her slider fell into the track locking her on her 2nd floor deck. She was able to MacGyver her way out by tying her shoelaces together to drag a phone over to her so she could call someone with a key to her apartment. Sis and I had a good laugh about both situations.
Dinner and E's bedtime routine were very late because of this "set back" He finally got in bed at 10pm. I feel like such a bad mother.
-------------
Monday we went to the mall to get my sister's birthday present. A trip to the mall after work always means eating out and this time we went to Sbarro. We got there just before the dinner crowd which was a poor bit of planning on my part. The food we got was not so fresh and not so good. But if it's pizza E doesn't care -- he eats it!
After dinner we went to the Disney store for the gift and then visited a couple of nearby children's clothing shops looking for green sweats for his halloween costume. No luck on the sweats so it's time to go home. It's getting late and E needs a bath.
The last few minutes of the trip E wanted to be carried, he was getting tired. I set him down outside the mall entrance and began the search for the keys. Not it the front purse pocket, or the back, not in the pants pockets, not in the backpack...Awh damn not again. I pick E up and walk to the car. There they are, dangling from the ignition waiting to do their job.
I turn and walk back to the mall. E asked "Key go?" This becomes his new mantra. I head for the first store with a visible sales person. GNC. The guy is sitting is some massage chair in the middle of the entrance -- obviously demonstrating the merits of the merchandise. I asked him if mall security handles lock outs, do you have their number, can you call them. I am instructed to wait outside the mall near his store (duh!) and an "officer" will be there soon.
I do as I'm told and the rent a cop shows up quickly. I tell him where my car is—it's in a garage spot—and he says he'll meet me there. After I fill out some paperwork he jumps out of his security vehicle with a slim jim and goes to work.
I hear a chorus of "Key go?" all the way home.
This weekend E and I wen to the library as we usually do on Saturday morning. He was cranky and refused to sit for story time. "I don' wan' it." Of course the tiredness didn't prohibit him from being loud in the regular AV department. He got his wish, we are leaving, but NO we are not we must climb the stairs to the second floor and ride the elevator down. As a "what now?" That wasn't too bad.
Putting him down for a nap after we returned home was a struggle. I ended up falling asleep as he played. He hit my arm and yelled in my face "Wake up!"
"That's it you're in the crib for a nap. Yawn. Mommy will just go lie down in her own bed."
Of course finding yourself in your own bed after you have fallen asleep elsewhere means you will NOT sleep. It's strange how you can find comfort in uncomfortable positions and manage to sleep. It just wasn't the same without the penguin beak in my back and the toy car under my leg.
After our naps and a bite to eat we, by that I mean E, had a lot of energy to burn. Let's walk. I grabbed the keys, put a stick in the slider and shut the back door. All was safe inside as we roamed the countryside. We walked across the neighboring gold course, under the road, over the tunnel we had just gone through and back the 6 or so blocks on the sidewalk. The sidewalk is quite close to a beautiful winding street where a pedestrian can't see an oncoming car until they are nearly next to you. It was when we got to the sidewalk that I had to begin carrying E and the toy lawn mower that we had to bring along on our adventure. You never know when something will need to be mowed. E was instructed to hold my hand and agreed but after the second car went by he saide "carry you" which means I carry him. Then he told me he was "kiyrd" which is how he says 'scared'. To get back home we had to walk past the park.
Of course the park must be visited. We must swing on swings and slide down slides and do all the things you do at the park. But it's getting late and we are losing daylight. It's time to go home and "eat eat". "Carry you!" Mommy's back is starting to ache and so E gets a horsey ride which is easier on the back -- ask any chiropractor.
We head to the patio and put the home lawnmower away first. Next stop front door. Deadbolt key is a perfect fit, doorknob works like a charm, OH MY GOD THE CHAIN IS ON THE DOOR. "AH SHIT WE'RE LOCKED OUT, again."
"Lock out?"
"Yes honey we are locked out."
What to do, what to do quick —— drive to the police station and ask for help.
"Lock out? Lock out?" The entire way to the police station E said "Lock out?"
We pull into the desolate parking lot and park the car. I get E out of his seat and walk up the flight of stairs to the main entrance. "Hello, I was hoping we'd never see the inside of this bldg but here we are." I told the woman behind the desk my sad tale of woe. There was an officer standing a few feet from her behind the thick bullet proof glass that separated us from them. He asked questions I thought I had just answered with my statement. Is he hard of hearing, looking for clarification or stupid? I began to lean toward the latter when he asked if I had walked from home.
I was instructed to go home, that an officer would be there to help. The entire way to home E repeated his new mantra "Lock out?" When I returned home there were 2 cars and 2 cops. They got out their flashlights and began asking if all the windows were locked. "Yes or they have the stops on them so you can only open them an inch or two." The first officer's hand reached around the door and tried to move the chain. Then the second officer's hand reached around the door and tried to move the chain. Did they really think I hadn't tried that?
I told them "You have my permission to cut the chain."
This caused them to pause and consider their options. "We could call the fire department, they are the ones with the bold cutters," Officer 1 said to Officer 2. Of course my mind sees the most outrageous things in that moment. I envision a ladder truck pulling up, lights flashing, sirens wailing and a guy runs up with a pair of bolt cutters, snips the chain and runs back into the truck. It's so very Monte Python.
"How about a coat hanger or something?" I suggest. When we were on our walk I saw a wire coat hanger on the ground a few houses away. Officer 2 starts working on the chain with his knife. Officer 1 leaves for a few minutes and returns with a slim jim. He bends and stretches and wiggles. I am holding the door open for the officers because it's a nice thing to do and it affords me the best view of the proceedings and of E who is still asking everyone "Lock out?"
E is growing bored with watching Officer 2's backside and begins to wander away. I try to set the lock on the door closer and go after him. It's not working. Now what? After a quick check Officer 1 informs me that it's on backwards. He wanders away as well and goes to check out the back door. E follows. "EH, EH," I stopped him from trampling the plants and told him to use the path. Officer 1's flash light goes on and illuminates E's way. Just then the door opens.
Hallelujah!
E helped make dinner. He put carrots in the steamer basket (well away from the steamer). He adopted a new mantra as well, "cook 'em". While the carrots steamed E watched a Barney video (it may be worse than I originally thought, but that's a blog for another day) and I called my sister. She had a similar tale to tell. About a decade or so ago the bar to her slider fell into the track locking her on her 2nd floor deck. She was able to MacGyver her way out by tying her shoelaces together to drag a phone over to her so she could call someone with a key to her apartment. Sis and I had a good laugh about both situations.
Dinner and E's bedtime routine were very late because of this "set back" He finally got in bed at 10pm. I feel like such a bad mother.
-------------
Monday we went to the mall to get my sister's birthday present. A trip to the mall after work always means eating out and this time we went to Sbarro. We got there just before the dinner crowd which was a poor bit of planning on my part. The food we got was not so fresh and not so good. But if it's pizza E doesn't care -- he eats it!
After dinner we went to the Disney store for the gift and then visited a couple of nearby children's clothing shops looking for green sweats for his halloween costume. No luck on the sweats so it's time to go home. It's getting late and E needs a bath.
The last few minutes of the trip E wanted to be carried, he was getting tired. I set him down outside the mall entrance and began the search for the keys. Not it the front purse pocket, or the back, not in the pants pockets, not in the backpack...Awh damn not again. I pick E up and walk to the car. There they are, dangling from the ignition waiting to do their job.
I turn and walk back to the mall. E asked "Key go?" This becomes his new mantra. I head for the first store with a visible sales person. GNC. The guy is sitting is some massage chair in the middle of the entrance -- obviously demonstrating the merits of the merchandise. I asked him if mall security handles lock outs, do you have their number, can you call them. I am instructed to wait outside the mall near his store (duh!) and an "officer" will be there soon.
I do as I'm told and the rent a cop shows up quickly. I tell him where my car is—it's in a garage spot—and he says he'll meet me there. After I fill out some paperwork he jumps out of his security vehicle with a slim jim and goes to work.
I hear a chorus of "Key go?" all the way home.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Tuesday Mourning
The house is finally quiet. The baby is asleep, the weekend guests have gone home and now it's time for a good cry.
This weekend my father visited to watch E on Monday when I went to traffic court. Sunday night he informed me that my cats, Penny and Gwen, have run away. I have only now been able to sob in the silence as I think about what that means.
I had to let them go a year ago when I was told that my constantly recurring colds were really allergies. I cried in the doctor's office when I heard the news. What was I going to do with them? How could I live with them or without them? For 3 years they had been my family. The ones waiting for me when I came home at night, the ones who curled up at the foot of the bed, the ones who sat in my lap as I typed, the ones counting on me for all their needs.
My father took them in and promised they would return to my house (wherever that might be) when I had my allergies under control with shots. This summer Dad came to the new house and worked for 7 weeks to get it to a livable state for someone with allergies. He replaced the carpets with laminate flooring and a whole lot more. While he was away my sister, who lives in the country at the edge of a forest, took the cats. My indoor cats were not allowed in her house because she has a dog and because in their recent ventures into the great outdoors they picked up feline/canine hitchhikers. When my father returned home his house was over run with fleas.
According to initial reports they seemed satisfied with life in the garage. Food, water, a box and plenty of space to explore. The garage door was left ajar so they could come and go as they pleased. Penny became a good hunter, hanging out near the chicken coop which no longer houses chickens but is a favorite hang out for mice. Gwen, my scaredy cat, lived under the stairs in the garage that lead into the house. She came out only for the essentials -- food, water and litter. The last time my sister saw them Gwen had decided to venture out of the garage and they were both spotted in the yard. Since then the food hasn't been going down in the bowl much. There was speculation that Penny had become such a good mouser that dry food was no longer necessary.
According to Dad they haven't been found on the road dead. There have been no "found cat" postings in the local grocery stores, Sis has looked. I don't know if she has posted any "lost cat" flyers but I'd be surprised if she has. We are all hoping they will come back when the weather starts to turn, but I'm not going to hold my breath.
So now the real good cry begins, the realization that I will most likely never see them again, that I will not be able to hug them, pet them, tug gently on a tail as they rub against my leg.
I hope cats don't feel emotions the same way humans do. I hope they do not feel I abandoned them. I have felt abandoned, left alone when I needed someone most -- it sucks big time. I hope they are alive and together and happy wherever they are. Perhaps some family has adopted them. I can only hope.
This weekend my father visited to watch E on Monday when I went to traffic court. Sunday night he informed me that my cats, Penny and Gwen, have run away. I have only now been able to sob in the silence as I think about what that means.
I had to let them go a year ago when I was told that my constantly recurring colds were really allergies. I cried in the doctor's office when I heard the news. What was I going to do with them? How could I live with them or without them? For 3 years they had been my family. The ones waiting for me when I came home at night, the ones who curled up at the foot of the bed, the ones who sat in my lap as I typed, the ones counting on me for all their needs.
My father took them in and promised they would return to my house (wherever that might be) when I had my allergies under control with shots. This summer Dad came to the new house and worked for 7 weeks to get it to a livable state for someone with allergies. He replaced the carpets with laminate flooring and a whole lot more. While he was away my sister, who lives in the country at the edge of a forest, took the cats. My indoor cats were not allowed in her house because she has a dog and because in their recent ventures into the great outdoors they picked up feline/canine hitchhikers. When my father returned home his house was over run with fleas.
According to initial reports they seemed satisfied with life in the garage. Food, water, a box and plenty of space to explore. The garage door was left ajar so they could come and go as they pleased. Penny became a good hunter, hanging out near the chicken coop which no longer houses chickens but is a favorite hang out for mice. Gwen, my scaredy cat, lived under the stairs in the garage that lead into the house. She came out only for the essentials -- food, water and litter. The last time my sister saw them Gwen had decided to venture out of the garage and they were both spotted in the yard. Since then the food hasn't been going down in the bowl much. There was speculation that Penny had become such a good mouser that dry food was no longer necessary.
According to Dad they haven't been found on the road dead. There have been no "found cat" postings in the local grocery stores, Sis has looked. I don't know if she has posted any "lost cat" flyers but I'd be surprised if she has. We are all hoping they will come back when the weather starts to turn, but I'm not going to hold my breath.
So now the real good cry begins, the realization that I will most likely never see them again, that I will not be able to hug them, pet them, tug gently on a tail as they rub against my leg.
I hope cats don't feel emotions the same way humans do. I hope they do not feel I abandoned them. I have felt abandoned, left alone when I needed someone most -- it sucks big time. I hope they are alive and together and happy wherever they are. Perhaps some family has adopted them. I can only hope.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
It's my potty...
E pooped in the potty this evening!
This is a great day. It's strange to think such a mundane activity as taking a dump could cause such excitement but it has, in me at least. He seemed rather unimpressed. He was more interested in showing me that he knew the difference between Blue and Yellow in his Winnie the Pooh book about colors. This impressed the hell out of me as well because just a couple of days ago he wasn't able to match the sound button with the picture of the button in the book.
I know he is a long way from being potty trained and that there will be set backs and misses but this is the first time he has actually made a deposit so to speak. The teachers at daycaare have been working on potty training since he was transfered to the toddler room 4 months ago. "Working with" means making the potty available and making a BIG DEAL out of anyone using the bathroom. Even the teacher gets a round of applause when she flushes.
One evening about a month ago E did a wonderful Red Hot Chili Peppers impersonation (I think it was when they were promoting Blood Sugar Sex Magik). Wearing only socks and sandles he leaned over his potty looking all the world like Anthony Keidis about to be frisked by the cops and began making pissing sounds. PSSSssss PSSSssss PSSSsss. His teacher told me she makes that sound when they are attempting to use the potty so they know what it's supposed to sound like.
Well must go clean the potty :D
This is a great day. It's strange to think such a mundane activity as taking a dump could cause such excitement but it has, in me at least. He seemed rather unimpressed. He was more interested in showing me that he knew the difference between Blue and Yellow in his Winnie the Pooh book about colors. This impressed the hell out of me as well because just a couple of days ago he wasn't able to match the sound button with the picture of the button in the book.
I know he is a long way from being potty trained and that there will be set backs and misses but this is the first time he has actually made a deposit so to speak. The teachers at daycaare have been working on potty training since he was transfered to the toddler room 4 months ago. "Working with" means making the potty available and making a BIG DEAL out of anyone using the bathroom. Even the teacher gets a round of applause when she flushes.
One evening about a month ago E did a wonderful Red Hot Chili Peppers impersonation (I think it was when they were promoting Blood Sugar Sex Magik). Wearing only socks and sandles he leaned over his potty looking all the world like Anthony Keidis about to be frisked by the cops and began making pissing sounds. PSSSssss PSSSssss PSSSsss. His teacher told me she makes that sound when they are attempting to use the potty so they know what it's supposed to sound like.
Well must go clean the potty :D
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Does it go both ways Smoking Ghost?
My foot hurts! It's not a minor annoyance when I'm walking, only when I'm laying down putting no pressure on it at all. When I'm walking it's nearly debilatiating, I walk with a pronounced limp. This started today so I haven't seen a doctor, chiropractor, reflexologist, voodou priestess or witch doctor yet.
13. Lung
17. Diaphragm
18. Solar Plexus
9. Arm
According to "New Choices in Natural Healing" these are the reflexology touch points where the knot of pain is in my foot. My question to all is: Does it go both ways? Could this pain indicate a problem in the aforementioned body parts. I have mild asthma and I could have problems with my lungs -- of course my chest would probably hurt more than it does if it were severe.
I have noticed a smoke smell in my house the past couple of days. As an asthmatic this is particularly troubling. Smoking is NOT ALLOWED in my home (or car) so I know it wasn't one of my guests. It's like the smoking ghost that lived in my last office. Smoking was not allowed in the building but everytime you passed certain points in the hall you could smell cigarette smoke. There were no vents nearby, and no one ever saw anyone smoking, so it was attributed to the smoking ghost.
The Fiesta was a minor success. Everyone seemed to have a good time but I was so busy getting the house together pre-party that I didn't get to the food until everyone was here. Several people helped in the kitchen with different things so I got to visit with the girls but I would rather have been outside with the whole gang. I know I will never be able to have a party completely inside my home because of the smoking restrictions. I also know some people will never spend more than the minimaly required time (grab a drink, take a piss) in my house.
13. Lung
17. Diaphragm
18. Solar Plexus
9. Arm
According to "New Choices in Natural Healing" these are the reflexology touch points where the knot of pain is in my foot. My question to all is: Does it go both ways? Could this pain indicate a problem in the aforementioned body parts. I have mild asthma and I could have problems with my lungs -- of course my chest would probably hurt more than it does if it were severe.
I have noticed a smoke smell in my house the past couple of days. As an asthmatic this is particularly troubling. Smoking is NOT ALLOWED in my home (or car) so I know it wasn't one of my guests. It's like the smoking ghost that lived in my last office. Smoking was not allowed in the building but everytime you passed certain points in the hall you could smell cigarette smoke. There were no vents nearby, and no one ever saw anyone smoking, so it was attributed to the smoking ghost.
The Fiesta was a minor success. Everyone seemed to have a good time but I was so busy getting the house together pre-party that I didn't get to the food until everyone was here. Several people helped in the kitchen with different things so I got to visit with the girls but I would rather have been outside with the whole gang. I know I will never be able to have a party completely inside my home because of the smoking restrictions. I also know some people will never spend more than the minimaly required time (grab a drink, take a piss) in my house.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
The Great Children's Music Debate
The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round...
Yeah mommy! Bus! Bus!
Mommy no sing!
Every morning it's the same thing. I am asked to sing the wheels on the bus and every morning E goes goofy when we see school busses, which are plentiful in the 'burbs especially when you live next door to a school. I was hoping to find a tape or CD with that song on it so someone else could do the singing in the morning -- I'm really not a morning person.
Went to Barnes and Noble with Mom and Sis and E and there was the Great Children's Music Debate. No Wiggles they cried -- the sales lady called them Human Teletubbies. I have done the research on the Wiggles, I like their music and don't mind them. They are married, probably with kids of their own. All but Jeff are trained to be kindergarten teachers -- they met while in early childhood ed classes the Wiggles started as a school project.
I picked up a Sesame Street CD. "Why can't he listen to your radio station?" my sister asked. The glaring look told her not to continue. Then she saw the Veggie Tales CDs and tried to push that on me. "Don't you want him to learn about God and Jesus?"
"He goes to a Christian school and attends mass regularly. He is learning about God. We don't need to bring talking vegetables into the house to teach him anything." Talk about creepy. I've never liked giving inanimate objects the power of speech. I don't mind animals talking but tomatoes give me the willies.
I settled on a Disney CD with Pooh on the cover. The songs are OK but the main thing is that "The wheels of the bus" is on it.
E sings on his own a lot too. The other day when he was sitting on the potty he started to pull on his penis (it's amazing how far a foreskin with stretch) and sing Happy Birthday. Maybe he's confusing potty with party.
Yeah mommy! Bus! Bus!
Mommy no sing!
Every morning it's the same thing. I am asked to sing the wheels on the bus and every morning E goes goofy when we see school busses, which are plentiful in the 'burbs especially when you live next door to a school. I was hoping to find a tape or CD with that song on it so someone else could do the singing in the morning -- I'm really not a morning person.
Went to Barnes and Noble with Mom and Sis and E and there was the Great Children's Music Debate. No Wiggles they cried -- the sales lady called them Human Teletubbies. I have done the research on the Wiggles, I like their music and don't mind them. They are married, probably with kids of their own. All but Jeff are trained to be kindergarten teachers -- they met while in early childhood ed classes the Wiggles started as a school project.
I picked up a Sesame Street CD. "Why can't he listen to your radio station?" my sister asked. The glaring look told her not to continue. Then she saw the Veggie Tales CDs and tried to push that on me. "Don't you want him to learn about God and Jesus?"
"He goes to a Christian school and attends mass regularly. He is learning about God. We don't need to bring talking vegetables into the house to teach him anything." Talk about creepy. I've never liked giving inanimate objects the power of speech. I don't mind animals talking but tomatoes give me the willies.
I settled on a Disney CD with Pooh on the cover. The songs are OK but the main thing is that "The wheels of the bus" is on it.
E sings on his own a lot too. The other day when he was sitting on the potty he started to pull on his penis (it's amazing how far a foreskin with stretch) and sing Happy Birthday. Maybe he's confusing potty with party.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
Confessions of an Aliterate
In response to "Aliteracy: a sad rant " by http://pbe56.blogspot.com/
I don't read books regularly, never did. I didn't enjoyed it that much as a kid -- it was always WORK. It was an assignment, it was a punishment, it was what you did out of desperation. I read slowly and sometimes it takes too long to get to the point in a story where I really want to continue. My mind wanders and I can think of a million (ok maybe just 100s) of things that I need to get done or that would be more fun.
Growing up our house was a book-free zone other than school books (how lonely they must have been). My father isn't a reader and my mother wasn't around. Dad had a few books; the Bible, which was rarely opened (as Catholics we took their word on it), "Dibs in Search of Self" and some pop psychology book of the early 70s like "I'm OK, You're OK". The latter 2 were probably gifts from his girlfriend at the time to help him understand her autistic son who shared my father's name. I NEVER saw him read these books. He read the newspaper and that was it. He was busy raising 2 kids on his own, he didn't even watch much TV he was doing other things -- what those things were now I couldn't tell you.
I went to a public school until the 4th grade when I was transferred to a Catholic school. In the 4th grade we were going to learn about mythology in the book series featuring Sam and Ann and their pets Nip, the dog, and Tab, the cat. When I got to the Catholic school I was excited to start the mythology part of the series. I was informed that in that school they finished those books in the 2nd grade. I was 2 years behind everyone and I never really felt too great about my reading abilities since then.
When I went to college as an honors student I was required to read 15 novels from the 19th century in a 2 semester humanities course that also covered philosopy, art history, and political science. This was on top of the Honors English class that had us reading Russian literature of the same period plus the other courses in my full load. The first novel was "Pride and Predjudice" I never finished it. I learned beyond a doubt that I was not a Jane Austen fan. I don't mind the movies but I can't hack the books. "Adjective, adjective, adjective, noun, noun, adjective...verb." (Some action sweety, some dialogue. I have an imagination I'll determine what color her freakin' dress was for myself. Unless it's vital to the story let me do some of the work.) Again starting out behind and never quite catching up wih the pack.
In my English class I met the valedictorian of one of the local schools and she told me that when she got to a word she didn't understand she's just skip it. I was flabbergasted. You're supposed to look it up! You're supposed to use that opportunity to increase your vocabulary. Maybe this is why I was so far behind. I have excellent reading comprehension and a farily good vocabulary for an aliterate maybe this is the reason.
A few years ago I decided I was going to read a "classic". Don't ask why but I decided to tackle Dicken's "David Copperfield". You gave me a lot of grief over choosing such a hard book. I visited death's door while I was reading this book (thank goodness Death was out of town for the week and I got tired of waitig for him.) Sound and direct light were painful so radio and TV were out of the question. All I could do was read in short spurts. I slept with the book in my hand and a dictionary beside me. I looked up several words a page in the beginning, mainly antiquaited words having to do with transportation.
Since then most of my reading has been academic. Text books for my ever-pending MA mostly. I prefer non-fiction. I often find myself making up stories and ignoring the words on the page in front of me when I read fiction. And reference books are the best -- any book you can open to any page and it makes sense -- now that's a good book.
Within the last couple of years my father and I had a conversation about reading -- his current girlfriend reads magazines like crazy and is always buying books. Unlike me though she actually gets a chance to read most of them. Dad and I both wish we were readers, we both wish we enjoyed it more, that it wasn't such a chore. I told him it takes practice to get good at anything. He thinks he's too old though and is resigned to be aliterate.
I am still hopeful. I want E to be a reader. Not the kind of reader his father is, he reads to the exclusion of all else. He has a very strong antisocial streak and would love to fill ALL his time with reading. He even reads on the job. Right now E loves books the way I love books. I love they way they look and feel, if there is a good story in it bonus. I hope he learns to love reading just as much as he loves to look at the pictures now.
Once again the blog has stolen hours of my evening and I must go to bed. I probably should have been reading but I decided to write instead. I can justify blogging as it is my only form of relaxation and entertainment. My new home is the black hole for broadcast media. I have no TV or radio reception here. This is where the Bermuda Triangle got all its best ideas.
I don't read books regularly, never did. I didn't enjoyed it that much as a kid -- it was always WORK. It was an assignment, it was a punishment, it was what you did out of desperation. I read slowly and sometimes it takes too long to get to the point in a story where I really want to continue. My mind wanders and I can think of a million (ok maybe just 100s) of things that I need to get done or that would be more fun.
Growing up our house was a book-free zone other than school books (how lonely they must have been). My father isn't a reader and my mother wasn't around. Dad had a few books; the Bible, which was rarely opened (as Catholics we took their word on it), "Dibs in Search of Self" and some pop psychology book of the early 70s like "I'm OK, You're OK". The latter 2 were probably gifts from his girlfriend at the time to help him understand her autistic son who shared my father's name. I NEVER saw him read these books. He read the newspaper and that was it. He was busy raising 2 kids on his own, he didn't even watch much TV he was doing other things -- what those things were now I couldn't tell you.
I went to a public school until the 4th grade when I was transferred to a Catholic school. In the 4th grade we were going to learn about mythology in the book series featuring Sam and Ann and their pets Nip, the dog, and Tab, the cat. When I got to the Catholic school I was excited to start the mythology part of the series. I was informed that in that school they finished those books in the 2nd grade. I was 2 years behind everyone and I never really felt too great about my reading abilities since then.
When I went to college as an honors student I was required to read 15 novels from the 19th century in a 2 semester humanities course that also covered philosopy, art history, and political science. This was on top of the Honors English class that had us reading Russian literature of the same period plus the other courses in my full load. The first novel was "Pride and Predjudice" I never finished it. I learned beyond a doubt that I was not a Jane Austen fan. I don't mind the movies but I can't hack the books. "Adjective, adjective, adjective, noun, noun, adjective...verb." (Some action sweety, some dialogue. I have an imagination I'll determine what color her freakin' dress was for myself. Unless it's vital to the story let me do some of the work.) Again starting out behind and never quite catching up wih the pack.
In my English class I met the valedictorian of one of the local schools and she told me that when she got to a word she didn't understand she's just skip it. I was flabbergasted. You're supposed to look it up! You're supposed to use that opportunity to increase your vocabulary. Maybe this is why I was so far behind. I have excellent reading comprehension and a farily good vocabulary for an aliterate maybe this is the reason.
A few years ago I decided I was going to read a "classic". Don't ask why but I decided to tackle Dicken's "David Copperfield". You gave me a lot of grief over choosing such a hard book. I visited death's door while I was reading this book (thank goodness Death was out of town for the week and I got tired of waitig for him.) Sound and direct light were painful so radio and TV were out of the question. All I could do was read in short spurts. I slept with the book in my hand and a dictionary beside me. I looked up several words a page in the beginning, mainly antiquaited words having to do with transportation.
Since then most of my reading has been academic. Text books for my ever-pending MA mostly. I prefer non-fiction. I often find myself making up stories and ignoring the words on the page in front of me when I read fiction. And reference books are the best -- any book you can open to any page and it makes sense -- now that's a good book.
Within the last couple of years my father and I had a conversation about reading -- his current girlfriend reads magazines like crazy and is always buying books. Unlike me though she actually gets a chance to read most of them. Dad and I both wish we were readers, we both wish we enjoyed it more, that it wasn't such a chore. I told him it takes practice to get good at anything. He thinks he's too old though and is resigned to be aliterate.
I am still hopeful. I want E to be a reader. Not the kind of reader his father is, he reads to the exclusion of all else. He has a very strong antisocial streak and would love to fill ALL his time with reading. He even reads on the job. Right now E loves books the way I love books. I love they way they look and feel, if there is a good story in it bonus. I hope he learns to love reading just as much as he loves to look at the pictures now.
Once again the blog has stolen hours of my evening and I must go to bed. I probably should have been reading but I decided to write instead. I can justify blogging as it is my only form of relaxation and entertainment. My new home is the black hole for broadcast media. I have no TV or radio reception here. This is where the Bermuda Triangle got all its best ideas.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
'Passion' Sells 4.1M Copies in One Day
Wed Sep 1, 5:30 PM ET
By ANTHONY BREZNICAN, AP Entertainment Writer
LOS ANGELES - The second coming of Mel Gibson (news)'s biblical epic "The Passion of the Christ" sold 4.1 million DVD copies by Wednesday after only one day in stores.
In terms of one-day sales, Fox is describing the movie as the best-selling R-rated film of all time and best-selling non-English language film of all time. Most DVD sales trackers, however, only divide rankings between animation and live-action.
"The Passion," starring Jim Caviezel as Jesus, earned more than $370 million at the North American box office.
Gibson's film was also one of the most controversial movies in years. Besides its violent depiction of the crucifixion, some Jewish organizations complained it might spark a rise in anti-Semitism by blaming ancient Jewish people for killing Christ.
Churches and religious groups were active in trying to promote the movie to their congregations, sometimes buying huge blocks of theater tickets for sale to parishioners. Many DVDs were paid for well in advance and picked up Tuesday.
Filmed in Aramaic and Latin, the movie was sold with English subtitles on VHS for $24.98, and English and Spanish subtitles on DVD for $29.98. Many retailers are cutting the price to $15 to $20, Hettrick said.
Since the "Passion" that went on sale Tuesday includes only the movie — no bonus features or documentaries that are common on most discs — a more fully loaded version of the DVD is likely in the future.>>
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'd like to see it, never got to the theater when it was playing there. Something about living as a gypsy and needing childcare, and, and, and. Now that I can buy it from WalMart Music for $9.72 maybe I'll get it there and be able to watch it at my leisure. I clicked on that link and the site was unavailable. I'm thinking the orders for this DVD overloaded Sam's Big Computer and it's dead for the time being.
How much money does Mel Gibson need anyway?
One of the sales girls at work today said she's NEVER going to see this movie, "I know the story. I know how it ends -- he dies on a cross, big deal." I couldn't believe it. My opinion of her wasn't too high to begin with. How can you take someone who says "Awesome" every other word seriously. The other day she was complaining. "I'm 25. I'm like an old lady." I'm 10 months from 40 and this complaint didn't sit well with me. I'm not age obsessed (I act 28, look ??, and at times feel 98) but come on.
_________________________________
TV free day. Went to IKEA (home of all things Swedish) after work today to eat and shop. Needed to get a couple of things before the big Fiesta. E had a great time playing with the toys in the children's section and I'm already trying to figure out what I want to get him (and am willing to let him have) for is Bday in November and Xmas. There is a great plush farm set there that he really liked but the trains REALLY kept his attention. Do I want him to have a train set at home or do I want that to be one of the enticements for library visits? The branch near us has a Brio train set and you can get the cars and engine from the librarian -- he loves it.
By ANTHONY BREZNICAN, AP Entertainment Writer
LOS ANGELES - The second coming of Mel Gibson (news)'s biblical epic "The Passion of the Christ" sold 4.1 million DVD copies by Wednesday after only one day in stores.
In terms of one-day sales, Fox is describing the movie as the best-selling R-rated film of all time and best-selling non-English language film of all time. Most DVD sales trackers, however, only divide rankings between animation and live-action.
"The Passion," starring Jim Caviezel as Jesus, earned more than $370 million at the North American box office.
Gibson's film was also one of the most controversial movies in years. Besides its violent depiction of the crucifixion, some Jewish organizations complained it might spark a rise in anti-Semitism by blaming ancient Jewish people for killing Christ.
Churches and religious groups were active in trying to promote the movie to their congregations, sometimes buying huge blocks of theater tickets for sale to parishioners. Many DVDs were paid for well in advance and picked up Tuesday.
Filmed in Aramaic and Latin, the movie was sold with English subtitles on VHS for $24.98, and English and Spanish subtitles on DVD for $29.98. Many retailers are cutting the price to $15 to $20, Hettrick said.
Since the "Passion" that went on sale Tuesday includes only the movie — no bonus features or documentaries that are common on most discs — a more fully loaded version of the DVD is likely in the future.>>
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I'd like to see it, never got to the theater when it was playing there. Something about living as a gypsy and needing childcare, and, and, and. Now that I can buy it from WalMart Music for $9.72 maybe I'll get it there and be able to watch it at my leisure. I clicked on that link and the site was unavailable. I'm thinking the orders for this DVD overloaded Sam's Big Computer and it's dead for the time being.
How much money does Mel Gibson need anyway?
One of the sales girls at work today said she's NEVER going to see this movie, "I know the story. I know how it ends -- he dies on a cross, big deal." I couldn't believe it. My opinion of her wasn't too high to begin with. How can you take someone who says "Awesome" every other word seriously. The other day she was complaining. "I'm 25. I'm like an old lady." I'm 10 months from 40 and this complaint didn't sit well with me. I'm not age obsessed (I act 28, look ??, and at times feel 98) but come on.
_________________________________
TV free day. Went to IKEA (home of all things Swedish) after work today to eat and shop. Needed to get a couple of things before the big Fiesta. E had a great time playing with the toys in the children's section and I'm already trying to figure out what I want to get him (and am willing to let him have) for is Bday in November and Xmas. There is a great plush farm set there that he really liked but the trains REALLY kept his attention. Do I want him to have a train set at home or do I want that to be one of the enticements for library visits? The branch near us has a Brio train set and you can get the cars and engine from the librarian -- he loves it.
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