Month: July 2015

My sister-in-law called us via Skype again last night. The first words out of her mouth were “You’ll notice Nola has decided she doesn’t feel like wearing pants this morning.” Yep. She had not only refused to put on her pants, but had proceeded to remove her diaper and spent most of the call galloping around the room wearing only a long-sleeved striped shirt.

She was in quite a good mood about the whole situation, despite being told that she could not watch any of her beloved Peppa Pig cartoons until she put her pants on. About five minutes into the call, our laptop decided to freeze up and needed to be rebooted. When I called back, my sister-in-law didn’t answer right away. Turns out that Nola had peed on her while we were disconnected and she needed to change clothes. Nice timing.

So, Nola doesn’t want to wear a diaper anymore, but she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of knowing when she has to go to the bathroom and asking to use the toilet. Her mom was hoping to avoid potty training until after our Hawaii trip, but it looks like Nola is forcing her hand. I was trying really hard not to laugh. I feel bad for her, but the sight of Nola running around in a shirt and no pants was just hilarious. Have I mentioned how glad I am not to have children?

My husband prefers carbonated over still water, so a number of years ago we purchased a SodaStream. I’m not sure it saves much money, but it avoids the hassle of constantly purchasing a supply of club soda and it keeps a lot of plastic bottles out of the recycle bin. Win-win. We’re currently on our second machine.

Last night, right after I had gone to bed, I heard my husband fizzing a bottle of water. Then I heard what sounded like a small explosion. So I got out of bed and went into the kitchen. He uses the small size bottles during the day, but since I was going to bed and he wanted to minimize noise, he had was charging one of the larger, older bottles that we rarely use anymore.

The results were disastrous. Something went terribly awry and the bottle exploded out of the charging station and shot out of the room before disappearing. He was hunting for it when I walked in. I crouched down on the floor and eyeballed the 30 foot water trail. The bottle had landed in our sunroom and was hiding near the sofa. The bottom seal was twisted. The bottles have expiration dates, as the seals will eventually fail, but this one should have been good through the end of the year. An optimistic prognosis, apparently.

The carnage was incredible. We went through half a roll of paper towels mopping up the liter of water from the floor, countertop and wall. Nothing in the vicinity was left untouched. In addition to the fountain of water, the machine had somehow left a large gouge in the the wall about two inches over the top of it. I can’t image the force it must have taken to do that.

The machine had turned into a rocket launcher and the bottle became a bomb. After dealing with the mess, my husband cautiously attempted charging another bottle. It worked fine, but I don’t think either one of us will look at the SodaStream the same way again. Its status has permanently changed from useful and benign household appliance to potential lethal weapon. Respect.

We went on a river cruise last night. It’s an annual event hosted by one of my dad’s close friends. We attended two years ago and the cruise part is really nice, but the food is a little lacking. In addition, getting to the boat landing is sort of a pain, as it requires traveling over several major freeways during rush hour.

So, we decided to be clever and leave early enough to have dinner within a few miles of the boat launch. We ended up at a neighborhood tavern/steakhouse fairly close to downtown St. Paul. The food was great and according to our trusty GPS, we only had a ten minute drive from the restaurant to the boat.

We left 30 minutes before the appointed time and quickly found ourselves in downtown St. Paul, less than two miles from our destination. At that point our clever plan fell apart. There was major road and bridge construction between us and our destination. It took 25 minutes to travel less than a mile.

I sent a panicky text message, convinced we would be showing up just in time to see the boat pulling away from the dock. Turns out, the arrival time we had been given was 15 minutes before boarding. So we made it with plenty of time to spare. The cruise was lovely, but I’m not sure it was worth the incredible stress of getting there.

In going through our backlog of mail after returning from Milwaukee, I found two items that looked like actual cards/letters. Which instantly made me suspicious. Marketers have become extremely crafty at disguising solicitations in order to trick you into opening them. Works every time.

The two pieces in question turned out to be solicitations of a different sort. Both were from Phoenix real estate agents claiming to be representing clients with an interest in our undeveloped lot. They made a big deal out of the fact that they had actual clients and weren’t just looking for investment purposes. Which again made me very suspicious. We’ve received requests before and I usually ignore them.

But now that we’re designing our big new house here and are not completely sure what our future housing situation will be in Phoenix, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to respond this time. So I emailed a reply and sent it to both realtors. One responded almost immediately. Of course his response was along the lines of “would you be willing to sell for fair market price?” Stupid question, since I don’t know what that is. I know what we paid and what might tempt us to sell, so send us a number and we’ll think about it.

He did respond with a number, and, while it is slightly more than 20% over what we paid four years ago, we purchased it at the bottom of the housing market in Phoenix. Real estate prices have risen more than 50% over the last four years. Sorry, wrong answer. Still haven’t heard back from the second guy yet. It will be interesting to see if he comes up with something better. Assuming he replies at all.

We had our second Skype call with Nola last night. It lasted for all of 20 minutes this time. The first 5 were filled with Nola dancing around the room and singing while her mom held the phone. I haven’t laughed that hard in months, I could have watched her for an hour.

She started soccer class this week. It’s her first class with a male instructor and apparently Nola is quite fascinated with him. She was very quick to offer herself up when he asked for a volunteer. I am terrified for her teenage years. I’m hoping she sticks with it for a while, because I would love to see her in a tiny uniform kicking a miniature soccer ball when we go to Australia next year.

Nola’s mom keeps signing her up for different classes to find out what activities appeal to her. The problem is, she likes everything. So now she has 3 classes in a row during the week – gym, soccer and music plus swimming lessons on Sunday. I can’t imagine what her schedule’s going to be like once she starts preschool.

At least Nola finds the video calls entertaining, even if I’m not sure she really understands what’s going on. We’ve decided to try doing them every other week to keep her from getting bored. I’d be happy just watching her on a web cam. You take what you can get when you live on the other side of the planet.

We have exactly seven weeks until we leave for Hawaii. Three here, one in Phoenix and then three more here. Time to start getting serious about that bikini body. I need something to motivate me. I am so glad we have this trip coming up. Right now I feel like it’s the only thing I have to look forward to.

So I’ve gone completely overboard by buying essentially an entire new wardrobe just for this trip. Most of that came via my ridiculous three order purchase from Tommy Bahama. White linen shorts – sure! Sheer maxi dress swim coverup – why not? You’d think we were spending two weeks on a high end cruise ship or at one of those overwater bungalows in Tahiti or Bali. White linen shorts and a two year old are just a recipe for disaster. They may not make it back.

I’d be better off with a bunch of super comfy clothes plus lots of swimwear, rather than resort apparel. On the plus side, I’m totally ready for all those Caribbean cruises in our future. I guess we’ll have to make a point of visiting more island paradises going forward. Tahiti is on the way to Australia, after all.