by mayberry on May 31, 2011
At the beginning of the year, Jeff received a personalized calendar from a vendor. We both thought this was a bit of an odd choice for a grown man. When is the last time anyone over 13 got excited about seeing their name spelled out in letters made of flamingos (May) or fireworks (January)? We’re all familiar with the power of mail-merge by now, and the personalization bloom is off the rose. Way off, given how much it’s abused by emailers who are lazy (“Dear Mommy Blogger”) or too quick with the trigger finger (“Dear <name>”).
But here’s a tip. If you are going to distribute a personalized calendar, one that says “Designed and produced especially for … ” at the bottom of every page in addition to the flamingos and whatever the heck?
You might want to make sure you are spelling the person’s name right. Or else he and his wife are going to laugh at you for an entire year, because his name is not JEFFERY.
One-oh-one, folks.
by mayberry on July 22, 2010
A few months ago Jeff suggested that we start having a regular family game night. Usually on Thursdays, we’d have pizza for dinner and then play a game. Board game, outdoor game, Wii game–all’s fair and we take turns choosing, even the grown-ups.
Frankly I thought it was a little dopey. We are fairly good at eating dinner together most nights, and after dinner we often spend more time together, just doing whatever (pause to say that even during the school year, there’s very little homework to deal with. Montessori FTW!). So, like, what would be the point of formalizing Family Game Night?
Well. The kids loooove it. They know that it happens on Thursday. They remind us that it’s coming. They remind us that it’s TONIGHT!!! Whoooo! Family Game Night!! They discuss whose turn it is to pick the next game (they keep track when I cannot). They sometimes even play the game without being sore losers.
So, ritual. Ritual and routine. Perhaps you’ve heard that children like them, even crave them? Family Game Night says yep, they do. You can bet on it.
Games we love:
Jo wants to play Scrabble tonight. Attagirl!
by mayberry on June 20, 2010
Because “good last report card of the year fondue” doesn’t trip off the tongue quite as well. But it was a double celebration. Our crunchy school doesn’t give letter grades (actually, the level of detail on the report cards is amazing and I can’t begin to imagine how long it takes the teachers to do them). But everything that had been a “needs improvement” became “improving” and several “improvings” became “significant strengths.” It definitely called for some cheesy, chocolaty goodness.
I know, picture of the wrong kid. Oops!
Happy Father’s Day to all.
by mayberry on June 16, 2010
My very generous husband gave me a very generous gift for my upcoming birthday (the one that ends in zero) and our also upcoming anniversary (another ends-in-zero event).
A dog on a surfboard! Just what I’ve always wanted!
Well, actually, an iPad. I was/am stunned.
After I get over my shock, I’ll need to load ‘er up. If you have an iPad, or covet one enough to have done some window shopping, tell me what I should get! (And P.S., I don’t have anything Mac or Apple–not even an iPod–so I am starting from scratch.)
by mayberry on May 31, 2010
On Saturday we celebrated Jeff’s milestone birthday (the same milestone I’ll be hitting in a matter of weeks, ahem) by hitting Fleet Farm. We passed up the dairy towels, poultry leg bands, crossbows, and camouflage lingerie and bought a canoe instead. It’s red and Opie has christened it “The Duckfinder.”
We drove it home very slowly and carefully. Then we walked it down to the lake (we got it a little canoe stroller, seriously, although way cheaper than that one; Fleet Farm FTW) and took it out for a spin. Aside from the fact that the water smelled really bad (REALLY bad) we had a fine time and saw quite a lot of really big (REALLY big) fish. No ducks, although we did see a duck blind along the shore. I wished I’d had a camera with me, because inside the blind were two chairs. I really might have to go back.
Jeff could hardly believe it even though he had told me that he wanted a canoe for his birthday. And he was there when we bought it. And he hoisted it up onto the roof of the car and back down again.
It turned out to be quite a lovely way to celebrate a birthday and a holiday weekend. The Duckfinder’s been out twice, we’ve Jeff has filled all our planters and planted bunch of new hostas, we I pruned the roses, we made two big salads for two barbecues, one of us marched in a Memorial Day parade and the rest of us watched and maybe teared up just a little, and the inflatable water slide has been inflated and deflated at least six or seven times.
A good time was had by all, even the Duckfinder. Just maybe not the gigantic dead fish that’s hanging out at the end of our street where we put in the canoe. Sorry, man.
by mayberry on February 17, 2010
Following discussion with a friend and former coworker on salaries, lowness of:
ME: Thank god my husband makes good money selling toilet paper, is all I can say.
ME: Opie: “Mommy, you are a writer. And Daddy is a paper towel maker.”
HER: I just pictured Jeff sitting in a workshop sewing paper towels together. Quilting them.
ME: And he would have a little inkpad, and stamp on the bottom of each roll, “quilted with love by JEFF H.”
by mayberry on December 1, 2009
When I lived in France, I often lunched with a family that included twin four-year-old girls. Their mother spent quite a lot of time during each meal issuing the reminder “Les deux cuisses sur le tambour!” (Both cheeks on your stool!)
Similarly, meals with Opie involve a lot of reinforcing, reminding, and pleas to use utensils and keep his butt in his chair. I figure this is par for the course for age four, and he is slowly learning decent-enough manners. We can take him to a restaurant and he can be trusted to sit fairly quietly and not make a huge mess or spectacle.
Still, he doesn’t have a great track record for Big Family Dinners of the Turkeyish Kind (or other special occasions). I think that he can sense his father’s nervousness (and, in my opinion, unreasonable expectations) about his behavior, and he also sometimes doesn’t like to be in the spotlight–this is why he refused to trick-or-treat, because he didn’t like people looking at him.
We were quite pleasantly shocked when on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, he sat at the table with nine other guests and politely, beautifully, neatly ate soup and salad. It was a thing of beauty–and this was after being in the car for nearly eight hours that day.
So is it any wonder that on Thanksgiving itself, he arrived at the table naked from the waist down, growling “i hate you i hate you i hate you” at anyone that glanced in his direction?
Eventually, I ate with him in the kitchen and then later he did reappear at the table and was perfectly charming. And the next day, we went to a football game at Grandma’s school with a bunch of VIPs and he voluntarily shook hands with strangers and said “Hello, Mr. Howard” politely and stayed until halftime without a single complaint.
Oh four. You are a mystery. A growly, adorable, ear-pinching mystery, and I am thankful for you every day.
by mayberry on July 20, 2009
The occasion: My birthday, and that of a friend.
The event: A dinner party in our honor, with four other friends as guests, and our two husbands as chefs/hosts.
The menu:
- Cold hors d’oeuvres — goat cheese balls with roasted walnuts, crostini with olive tapenade or artichokes and parmesan, fresh gazpacho
- Hot hors d’oeuvres — scallops with paprika, grilled shrimp, tortilla espanola, chorizo
- Roast turkey breast with truffle oil
- Grilled vegetables prepared in a citrus bath
- Green beans with orange zest and sesame
- Saffron rice
- Dessert — raspberry sorbet, mint ice cream, and ginger ice cream with berries and cookies
- Beverages — red sangria, white sangria, berry bellinis, fruit-infused water (strawberry/rhubarb and lemon/blueberry)
My friend K. and I hatched this plan a few weeks ago and boy did it ever succeed. We were talking about how all she wanted for her birthday was a really nice meal that she didn’t have to prepare herself. We moved into talking about how I would love to entertain more, but my husband gets super-anxious about having things just so when people come over. Somehow these two came together into an idea to have the two guys work together on a dinner party for us. I pretended I knew nothing about this while E. (K.’s husband) emailed my husband to propose such an event. And then it all came together in my backyard last night. I sat on a chair for about five straight hours eating and drinking and chatting and can you think of a better birthday present?!
Cherry on top: The kids stayed at E.’s house with K.’s parents and when I picked them up, K.’s mom said “These two children have some of the best manners I have ever seen!” I’m sure she was just being nice but I will take that compliment ANY TIME.
by mayberry on April 27, 2009
The other night while we were watching TV, a mascara commercial came on and my husband said, with equal parts incredulity and disgust, “Who wears that stuff?”
“I do,” I answered. “Pretty much every day.”
He really couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know whether to be flattered, or bemused at his lack of awareness.
Mostly I just thought it was funny, because after all I don’t wear mascara for him. It’s for me. A little makeup (whatever can be applied in less than four minutes) helps me feel like the face in the mirror matches the one in my mind’s eye.
Call me shallow, but I don’t see anything wrong with that.
by mayberry on March 5, 2009
I can’t believe I almost missed writing about sturgeon season. It has been a source of endless fascination for me since we moved here. The arcane rules, the family tradition, the regionality–it hooks me right in (HA).
This year I hadn’t had anything new to say. Plus I was so disappointed: Our next-door neighbor speared a 68-pound fish this season, and he even came over to see if we were home so he could show it to the kids (he didn’t know I would have been so much more into it than them). Alas, we weren’t around and by the time we found out about his big catch, the beast was already filleted and filling up the freezer.
As a consolation prize, Jeff got me this beer glass. Now is that true love or what?
*
Over at The Full Mommy today, I have a Parent Bloggers Network review of the most adorable (unlike sturgeon–they will win no marine beauty contests) Sylvania PalPODzzz rocket-ship nightlight/flashlight. A flashlight equipped with LED bulbs and NO batteries? Very space-age.
