When Uncle Matt was here, he downloaded the Green Hornet theme onto Adam's iPod. Now, if you aren't familiar with the Green Hornet theme, it sounds kind of like Flight of the Bumblebee if it were played by a hyperactive trumpet player after a gallon of expresso.
Anyway, yesterday Adam and the kids were listening to the song, and Xavier said, "You know, this does not sound like a superhero theme."
"Oh, this is the music for the chase scenes," Adam replied.
Xavier started bopping to the music (he may not be a trumpet player, but he has hyperactive down pat), when the music suddenly slowed into something slightly more mellow.
Xavier made a face. "This doesn't sound like a chase scene -- this sounds like the Green Hornet is waiting on the side of the road for a mechanic to fix his tire."
Adam replied, "No, this is the love theme, you know, where the hero is romancing the lady."
Gwen chimed in, "Or maybe he is romancing the car mechanic."
(This post was proofread by Editor Xavier.)
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Topsy-Turvy
Yesterday was an emotional day. As some of you know, we have been trying to sell our house since early March in an attempt to move into a smaller home in a neighborhood with more amenities. No, we're not retiring; on the contrary, we're busier than ever, which makes the time we can spend with our kids that much more precious, so less home maintenance plus convenient playground, soccer field, and walking trails seemed a natural progression.
June 30th we received a viable offer on our house; through negotiations, we were able to come to agreement on a contract by the end of July 1st. June 30th was also the day we said goodbye to our dear 17-year-old cat Grendel; she had been declining for a couple of months, and although our veterinarian and the Vet school had been unable to find a definitive reason for her decline, it was clear that the testing was taking its toll, she was hiding most of the time, and she had stopped eating. Needless to say, the coincidence of the two events robbed the first event of some of the excitement it might have had.
Well, our "viable offer" turned out to be a Pandora's box. The dialogue that went on over the past three weeks could be summarized as follows:
Us: Where is the home inspection report?
Them: We're working on it.
Us: Where is the home inspection report? You're late!
Them: We're working on it.
Them: OK, we've reviewed the report, and we want a new roof, a new water heater, and new floors in the attic.
Us: What the -- No! The home inspection report doesn't say anything about replacing these items. We'll repair the safety items.
Them: OK, then fix the safety items, plus give us (Dr. Evil finger by the corner of the mouth) ONE MILLION DOLLARS! (Slight exaggeration).
Us: No. You've had our final offer -- take it or leave it.
Them: OK, then we want FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS and a home warranty?
Us: No. You've had our final offer -- take it or leave it.
Them: OK, we really want the money. Give us the money for the repairs instead of doing them.
Us: OK, fine.
Them: And fix these additional items.
Us: NO!
We probably would have walked away except then we would have to pay their expenses so far, and we didn't really want to do that. So, we've been trying to prepare the kids for the possibility that we were not moving:
Us: Well, if don't move, maybe we can go to Great Wolf Lodge before the end of the summer.
Xav: Yay! Oh, wait -- that means I need to learn to swim.
Gwen: If we DO move, how long will it be before we can afford to go to Great Wolf Lodge?
Yesterday morning, I went to pick up Grendel's ashes at the Veterinary Clinic where we said goodbye to her three weeks ago. I went without the kids, but they knew what it was when I got home and started tearing up. Massive oversimplification:
Kids: Grendel!
Me: Great Wolf Lodge!
Kids: Yay!
Then, last night, while the kids were in the tub, we got the call from our real estate agent -- our buyer had finally agreed to remove the home inspection contingency so we could continue with the sale of our home. I was pondering how I was going to tell the kids, when the phone rang. It was my brother.
Ez: Hey, what's happening with the house?
Me: We just got word -- they've signed off on the home inspection.
Ez: So you're moving?
Me: Yep, we're moving.
Kids (just out of the tub): We're moving?!? HOORAY!
Gwen (bursting into tears): Grendel would have loved the new house!
Yes, I can see that we're in for quite a ride over the next month, but hopefully things will only get better from here. I think when all is said and done, we'll be happy in our new home. I think a conversation we had at dinner summed things up pretty well ...
Gwen (tearfully): Dad, I'm worried we'll forget something when we move.
Adam: Oh, it'll be okay, honey. It's much easier to spot things you might have overlooked when the house is empty. Just before we'll move, we'll go through the house for a final look, and say, "Oh, right, there's something we missed -- come on, Caliban, let's go."
Kids: Giggle-giggle!
(For the less-informed, Caliban is our 14-year-old cat. We've been asked how Caliban is dealing with Grendel's death, and, sadly, we think he is enjoying his status as spoiled, only cat. Grendel and Caliban never warmed to each other, and by midday July 1st Caliban was well on his way to reclaiming the prime sleeping places he had been forced to vacate by the more aggressive Grendel.)
June 30th we received a viable offer on our house; through negotiations, we were able to come to agreement on a contract by the end of July 1st. June 30th was also the day we said goodbye to our dear 17-year-old cat Grendel; she had been declining for a couple of months, and although our veterinarian and the Vet school had been unable to find a definitive reason for her decline, it was clear that the testing was taking its toll, she was hiding most of the time, and she had stopped eating. Needless to say, the coincidence of the two events robbed the first event of some of the excitement it might have had.
Well, our "viable offer" turned out to be a Pandora's box. The dialogue that went on over the past three weeks could be summarized as follows:
Us: Where is the home inspection report?
Them: We're working on it.
Us: Where is the home inspection report? You're late!
Them: We're working on it.
Them: OK, we've reviewed the report, and we want a new roof, a new water heater, and new floors in the attic.
Us: What the -- No! The home inspection report doesn't say anything about replacing these items. We'll repair the safety items.
Them: OK, then fix the safety items, plus give us (Dr. Evil finger by the corner of the mouth) ONE MILLION DOLLARS! (Slight exaggeration).
Us: No. You've had our final offer -- take it or leave it.
Them: OK, then we want FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS and a home warranty?
Us: No. You've had our final offer -- take it or leave it.
Them: OK, we really want the money. Give us the money for the repairs instead of doing them.
Us: OK, fine.
Them: And fix these additional items.
Us: NO!
We probably would have walked away except then we would have to pay their expenses so far, and we didn't really want to do that. So, we've been trying to prepare the kids for the possibility that we were not moving:
Us: Well, if don't move, maybe we can go to Great Wolf Lodge before the end of the summer.
Xav: Yay! Oh, wait -- that means I need to learn to swim.
Gwen: If we DO move, how long will it be before we can afford to go to Great Wolf Lodge?
Yesterday morning, I went to pick up Grendel's ashes at the Veterinary Clinic where we said goodbye to her three weeks ago. I went without the kids, but they knew what it was when I got home and started tearing up. Massive oversimplification:
Kids: Grendel!
Me: Great Wolf Lodge!
Kids: Yay!
Then, last night, while the kids were in the tub, we got the call from our real estate agent -- our buyer had finally agreed to remove the home inspection contingency so we could continue with the sale of our home. I was pondering how I was going to tell the kids, when the phone rang. It was my brother.
Ez: Hey, what's happening with the house?
Me: We just got word -- they've signed off on the home inspection.
Ez: So you're moving?
Me: Yep, we're moving.
Kids (just out of the tub): We're moving?!? HOORAY!
Gwen (bursting into tears): Grendel would have loved the new house!
Yes, I can see that we're in for quite a ride over the next month, but hopefully things will only get better from here. I think when all is said and done, we'll be happy in our new home. I think a conversation we had at dinner summed things up pretty well ...
Gwen (tearfully): Dad, I'm worried we'll forget something when we move.
Adam: Oh, it'll be okay, honey. It's much easier to spot things you might have overlooked when the house is empty. Just before we'll move, we'll go through the house for a final look, and say, "Oh, right, there's something we missed -- come on, Caliban, let's go."
Kids: Giggle-giggle!
(For the less-informed, Caliban is our 14-year-old cat. We've been asked how Caliban is dealing with Grendel's death, and, sadly, we think he is enjoying his status as spoiled, only cat. Grendel and Caliban never warmed to each other, and by midday July 1st Caliban was well on his way to reclaiming the prime sleeping places he had been forced to vacate by the more aggressive Grendel.)
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Real Hero of the Story
Spoiler alert: If you are reading the Percy Jackson series (starts with the Lightning Thief and ends with the Last Olympian) and don't want to know how it all ends, stop reading now.
The kids and I have been reading the Percy Jackson series (read the spoiler alert above if you want to know what books are in it) as part of our bedtime ritual. This chronicles the adventures of Percy Jackson who, as the son of Poseidon, is one of a group of children called "Half Bloods" or "Demigods" who are the offspring of the mythological gods with mortals. I know, it sounds a little racy, but if you read the Greek myths (as many children do), they didn't exactly take place in a convent.
Anyway, Percy Jackson is kind of like a modern-day Hercules, and we are about two-thirds of the way through the fifth and final book. Like the last Harry Potter book (oops! another spoiler alert!), people -- and half-bloods and mythological creatures -- are dropping like flies, and the kids were getting a little apprehensive about how this is all going to end.
When we called bedtime, I caught Gwen trying to smuggle the book to her room. I took it back and said, "No reading ahead! It's not fair!"
"I wasn't, Mommy!" she replied, but it didn't escape my notice that she didn't tell me what she planned to do.
"Besides, Daddy is reading the book," I added. "I don't want him to have to go looking for it."
"I've already finished it," Adam replied.
"You have?" Xavier asked. "Does it have a happy ending?"
"You want me to spoil the ending?" Adam asked jokingly. "Yes, it has a happy ending."
"Does anyone die?" Gwen asked anxiously.
"Well, sure," Adam replied.
"Who?!?" the kids asked.
"Monsters, titans, Kronos ... you know, bad guys."
"But do any more good guys die?"
Trying to get Adam off the hook a little, I said, "Well, Percy Jackson is the narrator -- you know he can't die."
"What about Grover?" Xavier pressed.
"Yeah, what about Grover?"
Adam hesitated. "Grover makes it to the end."
"What about Annabeth?" Xavier asked.
Adam hesitated again. "Well, okay, Annabeth lives, too."
"What about --"
Exasperated, Adam said, "All of the 'good' major characters make it to the end of the book. See? Now I've gone and spoiled the ending."
This was followed by a momentary silence, then the kids started applauding. "Yay! Yay for Daddy!"
I don't think they could have been more excited had Adam announced he was Poseidon himself.
The kids and I have been reading the Percy Jackson series (read the spoiler alert above if you want to know what books are in it) as part of our bedtime ritual. This chronicles the adventures of Percy Jackson who, as the son of Poseidon, is one of a group of children called "Half Bloods" or "Demigods" who are the offspring of the mythological gods with mortals. I know, it sounds a little racy, but if you read the Greek myths (as many children do), they didn't exactly take place in a convent.
Anyway, Percy Jackson is kind of like a modern-day Hercules, and we are about two-thirds of the way through the fifth and final book. Like the last Harry Potter book (oops! another spoiler alert!), people -- and half-bloods and mythological creatures -- are dropping like flies, and the kids were getting a little apprehensive about how this is all going to end.
When we called bedtime, I caught Gwen trying to smuggle the book to her room. I took it back and said, "No reading ahead! It's not fair!"
"I wasn't, Mommy!" she replied, but it didn't escape my notice that she didn't tell me what she planned to do.
"Besides, Daddy is reading the book," I added. "I don't want him to have to go looking for it."
"I've already finished it," Adam replied.
"You have?" Xavier asked. "Does it have a happy ending?"
"You want me to spoil the ending?" Adam asked jokingly. "Yes, it has a happy ending."
"Does anyone die?" Gwen asked anxiously.
"Well, sure," Adam replied.
"Who?!?" the kids asked.
"Monsters, titans, Kronos ... you know, bad guys."
"But do any more good guys die?"
Trying to get Adam off the hook a little, I said, "Well, Percy Jackson is the narrator -- you know he can't die."
"What about Grover?" Xavier pressed.
"Yeah, what about Grover?"
Adam hesitated. "Grover makes it to the end."
"What about Annabeth?" Xavier asked.
Adam hesitated again. "Well, okay, Annabeth lives, too."
"What about --"
Exasperated, Adam said, "All of the 'good' major characters make it to the end of the book. See? Now I've gone and spoiled the ending."
This was followed by a momentary silence, then the kids started applauding. "Yay! Yay for Daddy!"
I don't think they could have been more excited had Adam announced he was Poseidon himself.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Slacking
Actually, it has been a pretty busy summer. But I always say that.
We went to go visit my parents over July 4th weekend, and my brother Ez and niece Chloe were also there. We haven't gotten to see Chloe very much lately -- Ez and his wife are separated and they are going through a custody dispute, so it was nice to have the opportunity to see her again.
Since I don't get to see her very much, I write her postcards, and it occurred to me that she might like to be able to write to her father, cousins, grandparents, or even Adam and me, just to keep in touch. I bought her a book of postcards, postcard stamps, and a small address book so she had the flexibility of being able to write to friends or relatives whenever she wanted.
On Friday, Gwen received a postcard from Chloe, and I include the text of it here because I found it endearing:
Dear Gwen,
how are you? I am doing fine. How are your hermen crabs? How old are the hermen crabs. I Really miss you! What did you eat for supper? Happy fourth of July! I Say That beacase I Am Going home for fourth of July
Love Chloe
She also wrote "Go Gwen Go b***** famly" on the front of the card. It was very sweet, and a little bittersweet, since we don't know when the cousins will see each other again. We hope it is soon, Chloe!
We got to see the other cousins this weekend (the ones on Adam's side of the family.) It was great to see Riley and Piper again. Riley really took to the piano, by which I don't mean he is a prodigy, but that he LOVED to play with it. Our piano is an electric piano, so he played one of the demo tunes with adventure sounds (like sirens, etc., to show off the special effects capability of the piano) over and over again -- I began to feel like we were experiencing a major crime wave!) He also liked using the thunderclap effects to play the bum-bum-BUM percussion of the "Go Bulls" theme that he'd heard at Durham Bulls ballgames (for those who don't know this theme, it sounds just like Queen's "We Will Rock You" that seems to be the hallmark of all sporting events.) It was cute and funny, but after awhile that bum-bum-BUM seemed to be pulsing through my head -- a little too repetitive, if you know what I mean.
This morning, Riley was up before everyone else, but his parents put the kibosh on piano playing until after breakfast. Riley finished his breakfast in record time (to be honest, I'm not sure he really ate more than a bite or two), and he approached the adult table and said, kind of like a maitre de at a fancy restaurant, "May I impress you as you eat your breakfast?"
His father replied with a laugh, "I'm not sure I think you rate 'impressive' just yet, but let's wait until everyone else is done eating."
We went to go visit my parents over July 4th weekend, and my brother Ez and niece Chloe were also there. We haven't gotten to see Chloe very much lately -- Ez and his wife are separated and they are going through a custody dispute, so it was nice to have the opportunity to see her again.
Since I don't get to see her very much, I write her postcards, and it occurred to me that she might like to be able to write to her father, cousins, grandparents, or even Adam and me, just to keep in touch. I bought her a book of postcards, postcard stamps, and a small address book so she had the flexibility of being able to write to friends or relatives whenever she wanted.
On Friday, Gwen received a postcard from Chloe, and I include the text of it here because I found it endearing:
Dear Gwen,
how are you? I am doing fine. How are your hermen crabs? How old are the hermen crabs. I Really miss you! What did you eat for supper? Happy fourth of July! I Say That beacase I Am Going home for fourth of July
Love Chloe
She also wrote "Go Gwen Go b***** famly" on the front of the card. It was very sweet, and a little bittersweet, since we don't know when the cousins will see each other again. We hope it is soon, Chloe!
We got to see the other cousins this weekend (the ones on Adam's side of the family.) It was great to see Riley and Piper again. Riley really took to the piano, by which I don't mean he is a prodigy, but that he LOVED to play with it. Our piano is an electric piano, so he played one of the demo tunes with adventure sounds (like sirens, etc., to show off the special effects capability of the piano) over and over again -- I began to feel like we were experiencing a major crime wave!) He also liked using the thunderclap effects to play the bum-bum-BUM percussion of the "Go Bulls" theme that he'd heard at Durham Bulls ballgames (for those who don't know this theme, it sounds just like Queen's "We Will Rock You" that seems to be the hallmark of all sporting events.) It was cute and funny, but after awhile that bum-bum-BUM seemed to be pulsing through my head -- a little too repetitive, if you know what I mean.
This morning, Riley was up before everyone else, but his parents put the kibosh on piano playing until after breakfast. Riley finished his breakfast in record time (to be honest, I'm not sure he really ate more than a bite or two), and he approached the adult table and said, kind of like a maitre de at a fancy restaurant, "May I impress you as you eat your breakfast?"
His father replied with a laugh, "I'm not sure I think you rate 'impressive' just yet, but let's wait until everyone else is done eating."
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