Winter Storm Draco (Malfoy)

UPDATE: After sitting around IN HIS CAR (they had to leave the hotel at 11am and had no where to go) waiting to be told where to go, finally at about 3pm, the company for which hubs works told the guys they were going to go to Rockford, IL.  After seeing that Rockford had all of 9K people out of power, hubs said "No way" and came home.  He was thankful he chose to do so since he found out that the crews who did go to Rockford, drove all the way down there and then turned around and came back because there was no work for them to do.

We are keeping abreast of the outages caused by the latest winter storm, but since there is a hockey tournament going on this week, I don't believe hubs would be very happy to go work storm and miss hockey. Sometimes, his priorities are a little skewed. But, since Tbone is playing in above-mentioned tournament, I believe that his heart is in the right place this time.


Winter Storm Draco (now we're naming winter storms? Really people? Is this so that we can hype them up more? Like people won't pay attention to blizzard warnings but if you NAME the blizzard people will wake up and say "Oh really? A named blizzard? We'd better prepare!" If it doesn't work for hurricanes - think "Sandy" or "Irene" - how well will it work for blizzards?!) is gearing up to wreck havoc like the Harry Potter-an Malfoy after which it's named, spreading snow from the Rockies to New England just in time for the Christmas travel season.  Technically, where I live, we're only supposed to get about an inch of snow overnight and into tomorrow, with some high winds kicked in to make the air feel at least ten degrees colder than it really is just for fun.  However, to the south and then east of us, they're expecting anywhere between six to twelve inches of snow mixed with rain, ice and more high winds, possibly the perfect combination for power outages to occur over several states.  Since Winter Storm Draco Malfoy is looking to be as ugly as its namesake, hubs has been put on "stand-by," which means that he and other High Voltage Linemen get to hang out in a hotel, far away from home, and wait to see what this nasty storm is going to bring.  This is the truly boring part of his job: seemingly endless hours spent sitting in a hotel room, only broken up by the random excursion out to find an open restaurant for something to eat.  Once the storm has passed through, they'll be told where (if there's a need) they'll be heading to restore power.

Generally, we're pretty excited about storms.  Not only does he get a chance to do something at which he is tremendously skilled and enjoys, that is, building power lines after they've been knocked down due to bad weather, he also likes being a part of the process of giving people who have lived without power for a time their electricity back.  But it also means a lot of overtime, so there's a financial incentive to chase storms as well as the "helping others" aspect of his job.  (Don't get him started on how linemen are the most powerful people in the country - that is a {mainly one-sided} conversation that can go on for hours.)  But Winter Storm Draco is seriously worrisome due to the timing: we're five days away from Christmas.

Hubs has missed at least the last three Independence Day celebrations due to storms that pop up the week before the 4th of July.  Because of Hurricane Sandy, we thought he'd miss Thanksgiving, but he came home the weekend prior, just in time to help me put up our Griswoldesque Christmas lights and enjoy the butter-laden turkey and other treats I prepared for the day.  He's missed birthdays, the first day of school, Valentine's day, swim meets and hockey games either because he was working out of town and couldn't come home or because of random storms that pop up at just the right time for him to miss those special days or events.  But, until (possibly) this year, he's always been home for Christmas.

He called me late this afternoon, after I had spent the day making crack-corn and rosettes (my house smells like a bad version of a White Castle burger joint right now due to the oil required for the rosettes - yummy) for the kids' teachers' and coaches' gifts, to let me know that he was being put on stand-by.  Since he's been working about 100 miles (one way) from home lately, and had no extra clothes (or extra long underwear or his boot dryer) with him, I offered to drive his needed supplies to him.  Thankfully, he said he could meet me halfway, which was a wonderful thing since Sparkles and Buttercup had to make the trip with me and almost four hours straight in the car would have been a little much for both of them.  So, after stuffing his always-packed "storm luggage" with extra long underwear and a brand new pack of thermal socks and grabbing a gallon-sized Ziploc baggie full of caramel-covered Old Dutch Puffcorn ("crack corn" - once you start, you can't stop) for him, I loaded everything and the girlies into Izzy the Isuzu and drove the 60 or so curving through fields and forests miles to meet him ( on the way, we saw two live deer on the side of the road and a small herd of reindeer, too).  He was happy for the suitcase and to see us before he had to head back South to wait to see what Draco is going to bring, but he was also quite concerned that if the storm goes all evil like Draco Malfoy that he'll miss out on his favorite part of Christmas: watching the kids open their presents from Santa on Christmas morning and stuffing their stockings with goodies while they sleep on Christmas Eve.  (I know I won't possibly be able to do it as quietly as he does, so this could also mean that this Christmas the girls will finally figure out that Santa doesn't actually do all that.)  As we talked about this possibility, we also discussed the flip-side: that if there are people who are without power, he gets to show the ultimate Christmas spirit and give them the best Christmas present ever by restoring their electricity, especially during a time when the temperatures will be seriously cold and they'll need heat, not to mention the power to run all their Christmas lights (you know, priorities).

So, I'm asking you, if you are affected by power outages caused by Winter Storm Draco Malfoy, before you go all Dick Cheney and start screaming after 12 hours of no electricity how slowly the power companies are restoring power (like the Easterners did after Hurricanes Irene and Sandy), please remember that while you don't have power, at least you (more than likely) have your family with you, unlike the linemen who are out in the cold and the wind, working as hard and as quickly as possible to get your electricity restored (and if you could also remember that they also have families who wish you had your electricity so their well-loved linemen could be home enjoying Christmas with them, that'd be an added bonus) so they can get home to their own families for the Holidays.

I'm praying that Winter Storm Draco is just a regular ol' blizzard that dumps some snow and blows said snow around without knocking anyone's power out this Christmas.

Sandy Hook Tragedy

I almost had a panic attack this morning. It isn't that unusual, truthfully, since we're almost always running late and getting the four kids out the door can be crazy, especially combined with a dose of talk radio - all those factors can make me feel the need to curl up and rock myself like the little monkeys on the videos shown in Psychology 101.  Today's feeling was different.  Today I found myself hugging my kids closer and for longer and giving them more kisses and telling them "I love you," as I sent them out the door. Especially Buttercup.  Buttercup is 6 years old. Buttercup is the same age and in the same grade of the little ones killed on Friday at Sandy Hook Elementary.

I spent Friday morning at my daughters' elementary school.  A group of parents had volunteered to prep mountains of fleece for the four third grade classes to make into blankets for some homeless shelters in St. Paul. What I had expected to take about an hour ended up taking three as we evened out edges and cut the "ties" into yards and yards of fleece.  Conversations between strangers, brought together by our kids, ranged from the silly to the deep - like conversations often do when a large group of women are tossed in together on a project.  It was a lighthearted morning with lots of laughter ending with the fleece ready for the little third graders' fingers today.  My knees are still sore from kneeling on the floor to trim the edges of numerous would-be blankets.  I chatted with the office admin  for a bit after we were finished.  She's been part of our elementary school as long as I can remember - SwimGirl started there in 2nd grade and is graduating this year, so we've had at least one child at the school for ten years now - and is probably one of the best elementary school admins I've ever known.  The school principal was also in and out - popping into our conference-room-turned-workroom to check in and chatting with parents as they moved through the office.  The school is warm, inviting and staffed by absolutely wonderful teachers, paraprofessionals and administrators; we've loved our years at "our school."

When I got home, I received a text message from SwimGirl telling me about the shooting at Sandy Hook. Instead of turning on FoxNews, I went to my laptop and checked the news online.  My heart hurt and tears filled my eyes as I read the news.  The question going through my head continually was "Why? How could anyone kill little babies like this?" which I know was the question being asked by us all.  Then the news broke about the ages of the children and I realized that they were Buttercup's age, causing the tears to flow again.  I looked at our Christmas tree and thought about how there were children who wouldn't be opening their gifts, so lovingly wrapped and placed under the tree by their parents, on Christmas morning.  My heart broke for the parents and siblings of the lost children.  Then I started thinking about the terror of the surviving children - how will they ever go back to school without fear?  Will they ever face a night where there are no nightmares to invade their slumber?  Will they forever be looking at people, wondering if that person or that person or the one standing over there is actually someone bad who wants to kill them?  How will they heal?

So, as I was sending my little girls to the bus, I caught myself clinging to them more tightly and having trouble letting them go.  I found myself almost not sending them to school today.  I know the school staff have regular emergency drills (I've participated in them as a volunteer) and procedures in place in the case of something horrible happening.  Logically, I know these things.  But my heart is another story. My heart tells me "This is a place where my kids should be safe.  But they're not safe.  Those parents thought their kids were safe at school and look what happened." So I clung to my kids a little more than usual this morning, regretting the days when I couldn't wait to see them all out the door and the house to be quiet for a few hours again.  I can't imagine the heavy quiet at the homes of the victims of Friday's tragedy.  I can't imagine a home where the anticipation of chaos isn't always hanging in the air until the chaos of my four wonderful kids invades my house.

My heart hurts for the parents and families of those poor children and the adults who died trying to protecting them.  My prayers are with them.

Random Thoughts

12.5 inches of snow fell on my house over the weekend. It's great that we'll have a white Christmas. Hopefully we'll get a January thaw on the 2nd and all the snow will melt.

Receiving one of my kid's grades recently made me realize how strongly I feel about failure. Basically, I believe that failure isn't an option. I believe that so strongly that I won't even start something if I feel like there's a chance that I might fail in my attempt to succeed.  (This is good in some ways but has also caused me to miss out on trying something new because my fear of failure is so bad.) Unfortunately for my daughter, she's having to come to the same understanding the hard way.  Nothing like having to crack down on a kid the last Christmas she'll be home before she starts college next year.  The frustration I'm feeling as parent is unbelievable. The saddest part is that she doesn't seem to get that she's the one with the power here: follow my plan and privileges will come back; fight it and suffer the extended consequences.  Sometimes having to be a good parent really stinks. (I'm naturally a forgiving person; I prefer to get whatever issue is there out in the open, talk about it - sometimes really loudly - and let it go. Or just sort of forget about it.  So having to follow through on consequences for an extended period of time is really hard.  Especially when my child looks at me with her big brown eyes full of tears.  However, the tears will be forgotten when she opens her mouth and says something totally irresponsible and out-of-line.  That's what's helping me continue with her consequences. Still hard to do, though.)

How is it possible to lose a book in my own house? Oh hey, there it is. Right next to me. Good grief.

Made a double batch of rosettes today. The oil got to the smoking point. Now my house smells like a giant fish fry. I'm not sure if it is a good or bad sign that I didn't set off the smoke alarms.  The rosettes, however, ROCK.

15 days left til Christmas.  Even with our house Griswolded out and the tree (the prettiest tree ever, btw, even though it has a slight case of scoliosis and seems to be doing a peepee dance) is up and decorated and all the white crappy snow on the ground, it doesn't seem like it is really Christmas time yet.  Maybe I need to get more face time with the Hallmark channel movies?

Speaking of Hallmark Channel Christmas movies: I watched one with Tbone over the weekend.  He was scoffing at it at first.  Then he got into it. He was amazed by my powers of prediction - I was telling him what was going to happen (hadn't seen the movie before, I swear!) and he was shocked when I was right.  I then had to explain to him that the Hallmark movies basically follow a formula that begins with two people meeting, falling in love, having their love tested in some way, then ultimately getting married, usually about 2 weeks after they meet and usually on Christmas Day.  Even with all that, he still liked the movie.  I love it that my 16 year old son is still sweet and innocent enough to not have become jaded and cynical yet.  Which can't be said about all kids his age.  For example, I perused my daughter's friends' Twitter posts the other day and discovered that the boy with whom she was supposed to go to the last dance is a very sick-minded individual.  (The fact that her grades caused her to be grounded and unable to attend the dance with the disgusting boy was one little glimmer of happiness for my husband and I in what is a very unhappy situation.  Now if the attraction wears off during her time of groundation, life will be very good.) It does make me wonder what is going on with my daughter's head that would cause her to be attracted to this boy, too.

What would cause kids to think that using the n-word or the c-word in their tweets is acceptable behavior? Is it possible that they don't understand that unless their account is protected that ANYONE can read their tweets? Honestly, I don't get it.  I'm waiting for his next tweet to be Anthony Wiener-esque. Why would anyone believe that their 140 character thoughts on masturbation is something the whole world should see?  It is a sad commentary on what has become acceptable in our society.

Finally, conversations between my children that I recently overheard:

Buttercup (6): "Tbone, was that your stomach?"
Tbone (16): "Nope."
Buttercup: "Huh. Must have been mine."
Sparkles (8): "Yep, she gets gassy sometimes."

Sparkles: "Today I tooted and it smelled just like Daddy's toots!"
Buttercup: "I know because you made me smell them."
Sparkles: "Didn't they smell just like Daddy's?"
Buttercup: "Nope. They were worse."
Sparkles: "They smelled great!"

(I have an idea now of what my kids will be posting someday when they have Twitter.  Why are bodily functions funny anyway?)

All I Want for Christmas is a Pink Daisy Red Ryder

"You'll Shoot Your Eye Out Kid..." ~ A Christmas Story

On a recent visit to Walmart (I love Walmart.  Where else can you get a new car battery, razors for the swimmer, bananas, toilet paper and craft supplies all in the same store?) I discovered my Christmas Wish:
A pink Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun.  Anything pink generally catches my eye, but a pink Daisy Red Ryder? Oh man, that stopped me in my tracks.  At first, I thought about it for 8 year old Sparkles, but quickly realized putting a weapon, even a BB gun, into Sparkle's hands was a recipe for disaster, exceeded only by the idea of putting weapons into Sparkle's, Buttercup's AND TBone's hands - we'd have an all out war in our backyard where someone would have their eye shot out in about 30 seconds.  But, to pass on such a glorious item as a PINK(!) Daisy Red Ryder seemed almost as crazy as giving it to one of my wild monster children.

I stood in the middle of the aisle, gazing longingly at the powder pink gun, imagining myself ripping into the present (wrapped lovingly by me in the wee hours of Christmas Eve), finally revealing the BEST. CHRISTMAS. GIFT. EVER.  My revere went something like this:

Kids: What'd Santa bring you mom?  Let us see!
Me: It's a PINK Daisy Red Ryder BB Gun!  I'm so excited!
Kids: Wow! You are so lucky! Better watch out: You'll shoot your eye out, kid! (A Christmas Story is a family favorite any time of the year.)
Me: I'm going to take it outside RIGHT NOW! Maybe there's a squirrel that needs shooting? (PETA: don't come after me, I'm not that good of a shot, and those squirrels are fast. Just ask the hyper Huxley and geriatric Bella dogs.)
Donning my Grandpa's old down-filled coat (a puffy jacket he owned before they were even cool!), my old Ugg boots over my hot-pink camo fleece pajama bottoms and tossing my pink plaid "Elmer Fudd" hat on my head, I troop out the door, my pink Daisy Red Ryder in my hand.  Plopping down on the bench on our front step, I lovingly caress it's pretty pinkness as the next-door neighbor steps outside to fix a dangling Christmas light.  I smile and wave the pretty pink gun at her.
Me: Look what Santa brought me for Christmas! Isn't it lovely!  What, wait, where are you going? 
My neighbor dashes back into the house.
Me: It's not that cold out here. I wonder what's wrong with her? Her California blood must still be too thin for 25 degree temps.
I happily sit for a few more minutes, my unloaded gun in my lap, enjoying the early Christmas morning, when suddenly, a city police car slowly drives past my house and then backs up and pulls into my driveway.
Me (Grinning like a fool): I wonder if it's one of our cop friends, stopping by to wish me a Merry Christmas and admire my new pink Daisy Red Ryder?
Police Officer: Morning, Ma'am.
Me: Merry Christmas, Officer! (Fortunately, I hadn't delved into my Christmas morning bloody Mary causing me to call him "Occifer" instead...)
Police Officer: What's that in your hand? We had a report of someone brandishing a firearm in this neighborhood. Is it loaded?
Me (holding up my new pink Daisy Red Ryder BB gun, causing the officer to duck): This is my Christmas present.  Isn't it lovely?
Police Officer: Yes ma'am, it's nice.  You didn't happen to wave it at anyone this morning, did you? Such as a neighbor? (Nods his head in the direction of my neighbor's house where a slight movement of their drapes reveals that they're intently watching the exchange.)
Me: Oh no sir. I wouldn't brandish my new BB GUN at anyone.  I was simply enjoying the morning. It's not even loaded.
Police Officer: We were told that there was a person brandishing a large gun in this neighborhood, making threats to her neighbors.  Are you sure that wasn't you? I might have to charge you with "terroristic threats."
Me (snorting back a laugh): Sir, you do realize that the people in that house who are currently cowering behind their curtains while watching you and I chat are the same people who were afraid that birdshot would suddenly be able to travel over a mile and go through their 6 foot wooden privacy fence and kill them, right?  I assure you, I have not brandished my "weapon" at them in any way.  The wife came outside as I was sitting here with my Christmas present, that isn't even loaded with the BBs it requires, at which point, I waved "Hello" and wished her a Merry Christmas.  I can only assume that she dashed back into her house and called you with the speed of Santa's seven reindeer.
Police Officer (smiling): Ok, I just had to check.  Be careful with that thing: You'll shoot your eye out...

(The only thing better than my neighbor freaking out over an unloaded BB gun would be reading about it in my local paper's "Police Report" section the next week.)

Update: Hubby heard me talking about the PINK Daisy Red Ryder and took it upon himself to buy FIVE of them for Christmas.  Not five pink guns, 3 pink and 2 regular brown fake wood.  His idea was that three kids, himself & I all needed these cool guns for when we go up north to our friends' cabin.  I convinced him that 5 of these guns were not necessary and took them, the BBs and targets he also purchased back to Walmart yesterday.  My fear of the neighbors calling the police when Sparkles is spotted wielding a pink BB gun over-rode the entertainment caused by the looks on their faces when they realized we had given her and Buttercup each weapons.  (Even though Hubby said he'd hide the guns except for when we went up north, knowing that these are the same children who kept disappearing to friends' homes 6-7 blocks away no matter what the consequences - until Hubby took the front wheels off all the bikes - gives me faith that they'd probably find the guns' hidey-spot and if they didn't succeed in shooting out their own eyes I doubt the neighbors' kid would be safe.)