Last post of 2014: Froyo and Star Wars

Here we are at the end of another year.  Lucy is very excited to stay up until midnight.  In previous years, she believed she had stayed up until midnight, but it was usually only 9 or 10 pm.  This year, I think she really is too smart for that, so we are trying to use logic with her regarding sleepiness, and the general not so awesomeness of being up at midnight.  Not sure it's going to work.

We had a lovely Christmas here, with Christmas Eve at the Szczesiul house, and then Christmas Day dinner at the Kenny-Morabito house.  Good times.  Lucy was pretty excited about her "drone" (we got her a quad-copter), and about her Zhu-Zhu pet (yes, the wildly popular toy of the year 2009).

We were able to get out for a nice hike on the day after Christmas, which was surprisingly warm.  We did another the following day.  That day, however, is now known in our household as "The Worst Day Ever."  It is not really all that bad, but here is what happened:

I took Lucy with me on some (boring) errands.  As a surprise treat, because she was really being a trooper about doing boring errands, I said, "hey! Let's go to this Orange Leaf and get some frozen yogurt!"  (Note, while I have no interest in frozen yogurt, Lucy loves these places where you pick your flavors and then pile on the candies and toppings.)  So we pull up, hop out of the car, and only then read the sad, sad sign: Closed.  And not just for the day -- closed forever.  There were literally still "Grand Opening" signs in the windows!  In fact, the google claims the place is still open, as does Orange Leaf's own website, so this is a pretty recent closure.

Lucy kept her chin up, and I promised that we'd just go down the road -- after all, there are tons of frozen yogurt places in town.

Next, we drove to the Frozurt in Lowell (in the Sunrise Plaza where our Market Basket is): CLOSED and all signs taken down (not sure when this happened.  Frozurt's website still has it as open.

Next, we walked (because it was walking distance away) to the Berryrich Frozen Yogurt: CLOSED with a sad sign saying they could no longer keep the business open.  The google also still claims the place is open, but that's clearly not the case.

Next, we drove to Sweet Kiwi Frozen Yogurt in Chelmsford (where we also took a hike, so it wasn't a totally wasted trip): CLOSED and all the fixtures were removed.  There were a couple of teenaged girls standing there, too, saying "but we were just here a little while ago!"  Sweet Kiwi's website still says they are open.

FOUR frozen yogurt places all closed.  Apparently, the bottom has fallen out of the frozen yogurt business, at least around here.  I should note that we actually tried one more place -- the ice cream stand at Great Brook Farm State Park -- and it too was closed, but only for the season (which we totally expected).  The rest of these places all seem to be closed forever.

So it was a pretty rough day for a kid to go through FIVE different frozen treat opportunities and have them all fail.  Finally, we called the number for the Orange Leaf in Chelmsford, and they were indeed open, so she did after all that get her froyo.  We were the only customers in the store.  I am guessing 2015 is not going to be the year of the Froyo.

We're staying close to home tonight for New Year's Eve.  By which I mean, we are staying at home.  We'll be watching Empire Strikes Back with Lucy.  Yup.  We're pretty excited.  On the day after Christmas, we watched Star Wars (episode IV) with her.  True fans (shoutout to my brother and Rube and Phuc if they are reading) will be glad to know that we showed her the ORIGINAL UNALTERED 1977 edition.  It's the "de-specialized edition," unadulterated by Lucas's later (ill-advised) editing and fancy graphics.  It was delightful.  Jake found it online.  We spent a lot of time (OK, Jake spent most of it, and then I consulted periodically) on which edition to use, and then, perhaps even more importantly, WHAT ORDER.  This is a biggie. 

One school of thought abides by the Episode Order, which, as anyone could figure out, means: I, II, III, IV, V, and VI.

The other (better) school of thought believes in Release Order, which would mean IV, V, VI, I, II, III.  We are of the "Release Order" school.

We absolutely felt we needed to watch IV (A New Hope) first.  But there are some problems, as you can find explained at very great, absurdly long, and incredibly geeky length at this guy's website: http://www.nomachetejuggling.com/2011/11/11/the-star-wars-saga-suggested-viewing-order/

At this point, we are planning to follow the sage, nay, jedi-like wisdom of that site, and go with ALMOST "Machete Order," which apparently is also called the "Ernest Rister sequence," (which Ernest Rister calls Narrative Structure Order), which involves watching IV, V, and then -- I know, this is crazy -- I, II, III, VI.  Note that "Machete Order" -- which removes Episode I ENTIRELY -- is still on the table.  We have to make a serious decision.  Perhaps the most serious parenting decision of our lives.  Assuming we watch V (Empire Strikes Back) tonight (which is the plan) the very first decision we have to make in 2015 is whether or not to watch Episode I with her or not.   I don't know if I can stomach it, but, at least one advantage of almost-Machete order (or Machete order) is that it puts the carrot of Return of the Jedi at the very end.

At any rate, some viewing notes so far: Lucy was delighted with the movie and said afterwards that she didn't find it as scary as she thought it was going to be (we had to set a backup plan in case she found it too scary, and thankfully, she was OK with it).  My favorite comment of the night was "R2D2 is my kind of robot!"  So that was pretty great (yes, I know, droid, not robot).  She also wondered aloud why C3PO was so worried all the time.  On the fly, I explained that C3PO is a protocol droid, and as such, C3PO knows ALL THE RULES.  And when you actually know all the rules, and those rules are all the time ever-present in your mind, you are worried.  A lot.  My explanation pleased me and satisfied her.  Like Jedi am I.

Another great moment for me was when the Stormtroopers were looking for the droids on Mos Eisley (after the incident in the Cantina) and they walk up to the door where the droids are actually hiding, find that it is locked, and then they JUST MOVE ON TO THE NEXT DOOR.  Lucy yelled out loud, asking why they would move on from a locked door -- why wouldn't they break it down? Smart kid.

Also, at the very end of the movie, Luke and Han get these big medals during the procession/celebration in the final scene.  Chewbacca walks up with them, but does not get a medal -- WHY NOT?  Lucy found this very unfair (we did too).

It was fun to watch it with her, remembering watching it when we were (roughly) her age, and seeing what she noticed.

Looking forward to Empire tonight!

Happy New Year to all!

IV, V, I, II, III, VI

IV, V, I, II, III, VI

Christmas Eve!

Lucy is crazy excited about Santa.  We invited Ruth and Woody over just so she'd be distracted!

Here's  her letter to Santa:

Important notes: "zozo pet" means "zhu zhu pet," the toy craze of 2009.  Seriously.  So the good news is that Lucy is virtually unaware of current toy crazes.  More good news: it's not hard to find a zhu zhu pet relatively cheap these days.  Also note: Lucy believes in Santa!


And here's a little thing she did at school:

My favorite bit is the lower right, where she explains that she is going to buy a book ABOUT BEN FRANKLIN for her buddy Dylan.  Why this is specificity of subject matter?  Why this subject matter?  I do not know.  But wow.

Jake is baking and cocktail-crafting, I am wrapping and such.  Alice is at the Social Pup to get out her energy before tonight's party.

It's going to be a fun couple o' days.

For those of you who we will be seeing, here's what we're bringing for you to drink:

Yup, Nine Ladies Dancing.  It's amazingly yummy!  I'm sorry we can't mail it to the rest of you!!!

Merry Merry Merry Christmas!

Stockings hung (check)

Ok, so they're hung on the stairway, since we don't have a fireplace.  That's the best we could do.  I should mention that the stocking all the way on the right is the new edition -- for Alice.  And now I'm feeling bad that we never made one for Carter.  He never complained.  Anyway, Alice's stocking is a real heirloom keepsake, being made from the shiny silver-infused burlap from Abby's wedding shower last summer (here's a photo from the event, and one here includes the table covering in the background!) and is adorned with some lovely lace that's actually from my mother's wedding gown.  I am not kidding.  (Sorry, Mom!)

We're getting ready.  Toll house cookies in the oven and everything (at 8 am!).

Mrs. Claus delivered pajamas last night -- Lucy found them in her pajama drawer -- because today is Pajama Day at school. Lucy also has a holiday party at her school today, so we all know there is a very educational day going on today.

Update: Here's Lucy and Ruth at the party:

 Yes, Lucy looks a bit scary, and Ruth looks a bit scared.  You have no idea how much sugar they have just injested.

And here's the whole class:

Apparently, it was a great day.

I wonder what else is in store.....

MAKING CHRISTMAS!

Some reader may know that my title refers to the maniacal song, "Making Christmas," from The Nightmare Before Christmas. I like to sing it, loudly and out of tune, when I am crazily trying to both prepare for Christmas and finish off a semester.  Good times.

I finally submitted grades today, so that part of the job is over (there are so many other, much less pleasant parts to come!).  So now we're full-throttle on MAKING CHRISTMAS!

We went to the Lowell Humane Society to get Alice's picture taken with Santa:

She was kinda freaked out by Santa, which is why she's on the floor and *not* in his lap.

This experience led us to the knowledge that Lucy still very much believes in Santa.  Out of the blue, she asked "What are we going to do with Alice on Christmas?" We weren't sure what she was talking about, but after a few more questions, she revealed that she was concerned that Alice would bark at Santa when he arrived (middle of the night, as is his fashion) and scare him off.  We have solved this with a promise that Alice will sleep in our room on Christmas Eve so that she does not spook Santa.

Lucy's school has been buzzing with activity, including a visit, this week from the Lowell Spinners Holiday Caravan.  We got a lot of details from Lucy (she got autographs!), but we also read about it on Lucy's school's blog!  Sounds like it was pretty exciting.  And this just in, there is apparently video of it that was on the news!

Our tree is up:

It's much smaller than our usual tree.  We were worried about a certain four-legged-member of the family having tree issues.  Mostly, I was worried that she'd wag that lovely long tail of hers and take out swaths of ornaments.  So the tree is perched on the table, and Alice has taken little interest in it.  Success!

In other local news, we went to the Open House and Artbotics event at the New England Robotics Validation and Experimentation Center (NERVE) here in Lowell.  Lucy got to fly a quad copter and also be chased by the same.  We played with lots of robots and it was awesome!  I for one welcome our new robot overlords  (so long as they're validated at NERVE!).

Today we went to an event at the Spinners Park

There were very long lines for pictures with Elsa and pictures with Santa, so we just went to the unbelievable short line: FOR PUPPIES!!!

 We tried to put this one inside our coats and walk out, but they wouldn't let us.  The puppies were from Great Dog New England, another great local rescue organization.

More soon, we hope!  But for now, back to MAKING CHRISTMAS!

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's shaping up to be a snowy Thanksgiving, which is fine with us since we're staying home.  Jake finished all the shopping on Tuesday, and all our long-distance guests have already arrived.  We have John and Rose and Margaret already with us, and we will soon have Paul and Kathy and Christopher.   Jake has been in the kitchen cooking up a storm.

Lucy had a half day at school today, which was actually a 2.5 hour long school day, likely the least educational day ever.  But nonetheless, she brought home her turkey-in-disguise:

Explanation: every student was sent home last week with a picture of a turkey, and we were told to disguise the turkey so no one would know it was a turkey.  Not so easy.  So they all brought their turkeys back, and then every kid wrote a story about his/her turkey. Here is Lucy's:

So pillgrums and canabulls.  First grade is going well.

And for any of you out there struggling to prepare Thanksgiving dinner, here's Lucy's expert cooking advice:

 That about does it.  Have a Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

We are very grateful to have so many wonderful friends and family in our lives.

Happy Seventh Birthday, Lucy!

We've had a tremendous couple of days here celebrating Lucy's seventh Birthday.  On Saturday we went to see the live show of the Wild Kratts (a PBS show about wild animals).  Lucy and her BFF Ruth loved it.  And it was a total surprise (for the girls) until we arrived at the auditorium.  On Sunday, Lucy had her Birthday party, including kids from the neighborhood and school.  Lucy asked for a science theme, and we delivered, I am proud to say. Every kid got a lab coat and eye protection (naturally) and they loved being dressed up. We had a microscope (the kids were crazy about it!), a volcano experiment, and then polymer worms that they got to make.  It was great, great, science-y fun.  Also, Jake made a cake.  A fabulous cake (shown on the table near the very excited pre-party Lucy):

Today was the day.  Lucy had to go to school and we had to go to work, but there was no denying the excitement.  We have a seven year old!  We have this seven year old:

Life is good.

It's going to be a busy week with the upcoming trip for Abby's wedding (hooray!) and then the impending Thanksgiving visitors.  We can't wait to see everyone.

Happy November!

Life with Alice

We have so much to learn.

Recent losses to Alice include:
--shoes
--books
--crayons (poop the rainbow!)
--tiny, tiny, tiny Playmobile vet kit (oh, the irony!)

Here's the scene of her crime against literature:

That's Shel Silverstein, Beverly Cleary, and Bunnicula. Either she has good taste, or they taste good.

And you've already seen what she can do when left alone with shoes.

One of the very first toys we got her was a super-tough stuffed lobster (we got it in Maine, naturally).  She finally conquered the lobster, after quite a long time of working on it; here she is, proud of her handiwork:

So I decided to restuff it (adding some fleece fabric in the carapace):

Her response:

With those paws crossed, doesn't she look pleased with herself?  Maybe something like "you have grossly underestimated my capacity for destruction" is her thought here?

She can be chill; here's a shot of a pretty typical morning:

But now that I examine the photographic evidence, Lucy is reading the Shel Silverstein book that Alice would later go on to chew (see above).  Maybe she's not relaxed here, but rather, harboring seething resentment against Shel for distracting Lucy from her.

Anyway, we are working on giving Alice appropriate outlets for her energy, including regular visits to the Social Pup, our awesome local doggy daycare.

And also, we're working on her first film (dogs in this house are required to become famous).  Here's her first internet meme reel:

http://cuteoverload.com/2014/10/30/alice-just-cannot-be-leaf-it/

And if that's not funny enough, Jake also got it Benny-Hill-ified:

http://bennyhillifier.com/?id=GC9fMdTUsng

Have a happy day.  May your dog only destroy things you wanted to have destroyed.

'Tis the Season...

....when we celebrate Lucy's Birthday!  This year, it's a week-long affair, it seems (maybe more!).

Today, since we all had off from school & work, *and* the weather was unbelievable beautiful, we decided to take our November Salem vacation day, which is now an annual event.  I believe it began back when Lucy turned five, at least if our blog is to be believed: http://thischarmingoldhouse.blogspot.com/2012/11/happy-5th-birthday-lucy.html

Once again, we hit the Peabody Essex Museum, which once again amazed us.  I think it is simply one of the best museums to visit with a kid (or without one!).  Right now, they have a Calder exhibit (yes, the guy who did all the mobiles) and it was so cool.  In addition, they have an exhibit called Branching Out: Trees as Art, which has a ton of hands-on features (it's in the gallery that previously had the human-animal exhibit, which was also very hands-on).  We recommend both exhibits highly.  Lucy particularly liked the tree room.

So we've taken Lucy to the Peabody Essex a handful of times, and every time we intend to go on the tour of the Yin Yu Tang Chinese House, but every time we end up spending so much time in the other galleries that we are exhausted and don't manage to get to it.  But today, we made it the FIRST thing. And it was awesome. The house was built in 1800 and housed 8 generations of the Huang family in southeaster China.  The house was taken apart and brought to Salem, where it was reconstructed in 2006.  Everyday objects (cooking utensils, clothing, games, etc.) are all placed in the home, and you can go into each room to see how people lived there at various times.  Lucy loved it (so did we).

We had both breakfast and lunch at our favorite Salem bakery, A&J King, and we also had a brief visit to Nathaniel Hawthorne's House of Seven Gables and to Ye Olde Pepper Candy Companie (their spelling, not mine), where horehound candies abound. We walked along the waterfront and checked out the lighthouse.

All in all, a lovely day!  And don't worry, Alice was very happy, too.  She spent the day with all her dog buddies at the Social Pup.

Stay tuned for the further Birthday chronicles, including a surprise secret trip to see a show (she doesn't know about this), the SCIENCE-themed Birthday party, and who knows what else.

Happy November, folks!

Today's Mayhem

10 shoes

removed from shoe rack
dragged to various places
chewed, diseminsoled

She seems just as confused as I was when I arrived home to find this situation.

Peanut Challenge!

So Lucy and I are here at her allergist, about to start her peanut challenge!
9:25 am: we are waiting for the peanut paste to arrive; they will put it on her lip and see if she gets a rash.
Anxiety is high.
Stay tuned.
9:30: Peanut paste applied to lower lip area.  She's playing a game on the ipad. Concern: she does not like the smell of peanuts.
SO far, so good.
10 am Bad news: hive on lip.
Challenge called off.
Cream on hive; taking Benadryl.
Sigh.
Not a good day.

11 am: we are at Friendly's in Leominster, having consolation french fries and ice cream.

Good things to know:
1) Friendly's in Leominster is still open ....I thought they all closed.
2)  Friendly's will serve you french fries and sundaes at 10:30 am.
3)  Friendly's has wifi.

So it's been a rough day.  In retrospect, I should have paid attention to the signs, including Alice throwing up on my shoes and Lucy waking up with a bloody nose.  Both of these events were firsts, and certainly set a tone of crumminess.

But french fries and ice cream (particularly ice cream in clown formation) will cheer up a kid pretty easily.  

On phobias and parenting

Last Friday, Lucy went in for her blood test to find out if she still has a peanut allergy (which we had discovered she had back in 2009, as per the blog ... see how would we remember *anything* without this blog?).  This is something we were supposed to do over a year ago, but what delayed us was the fact that Lucy has a pretty serious needle phobia.  Just like me.

Apparently there are several different names for this phobia -- aichmophobia, belonephobia, or enetophobia -- but whatever it is, I have, apparently, passed it along to her, despite my very best efforts not to do so.

My own phobia -- and I must note here, it is difficult for me to write this because I have a hard time talking about the subject (also, trigger warning: if you too have a needle phobia, you might not want to read this) -- dates to when I was in fourth grade and had to have a blood test for mono (I had it).  During the blood draw, taken in my pediatrician's office, which I can vividly call up in my memory, the needle broke in my arm.  And I passed out.  If I think about that memory too much, I can make myself pass out just from thinking about it.

I have to pause here and not re-read the paragraph above.

Suffice it to say, I have never recovered.  On the bright side, there is virtually no danger of me ever becoming an intravenous drug user, so, hey, no heroin for me, thanks!  On the other hand, there goes my potential career in phlebotomy.

I don't know that I was all that crazy about blood tests and shots before (I seem to recall a general dislike for them), but this fourth-grade experience sent me over the edge.  Thankfully, I was a lucky kid, health-wise, and never really had much need for needles. But then one time while I was in college, I was in the hospital, and I was given an IV. This, to me, is the worst kind of needle: the back of the hand kind, where you can see it constantly, and it's just awful.  Compounding that situation was the fact that they put that needle in the same arm to which they attached the automatic blood pressure cuff.  I don't know if you've experienced this, but when you're in a hospital bed with an automatic blood pressure cuff, it just keeps blowing up every so often (it seemed like every 10 minutes then but I assume it was not actually that often).  When this happens, if you're like me, your blood pressure GOES UP, because if you're like me, you have "white coat hypertension," which means seeing a doctor (in a white coat) makes you anxious and your body expresses its anxiety by raising your blood pressure. And in my case, the actual blood pressure CUFF creates this phenomenon. So basically, the arm was getting all puffed up like it does with the blood pressure cuff and then down on my hand, where the IV needle was, I was having this weird sensation because, well, I'm pretty sure that the IV and the blood pressure cuff should not be on the same arm.  So basically, the whole IV needle w/ arm cuff fully solidified my needle phobia (and also activated my hospital-room-induced hypertension).

My basic research (thanks Wikipedia!) tells me that there are several kinds of needle phobia, and I think I might have all of them.  Seriously.  The first is "vasovagal needle phobia: fear [of] the sight, thought, or feeling of needles or needle-like objects."  It involves the various physical reactions that I've always had to needles (near panic-attack, blood pressure rise, fainting).  Sounds like me.  But given my specific history, I suspect my phobia is also associative -- in that it's related to my own bad memories.  Both Jake and my dentist have suggested that I may also have what's called a hyperalgesic reaction to needles -- basically, some people have an inherited hypersensitivity to pain, and according to my dentist, I fit this profile.

When Lucy was born, I had needles galore, including a blood transfusion (I had what we'll call a "medically interesting" birthing situation that I won't get into here, but thank god it's over!).  It was not a good time, and I pretty much try not to think about it.  But one thing I do remember thinking then was that I did NOT want to pass my needle anxiety on to my daughter.  Because it really gets in the way (and not just of IV drug abuse).  It makes me delay getting my flu shot.  It makes me totally freak out when I need to get tested for various things.  And it makes it impossible for me to watch a lot of movies & TV shows that feature needles (seriously, it's not just a fear of getting a needle myself -- I can't watch someone *else* get a needle, making all medical TV shows off-limits for me).

So I wanted to stop it.  To this end, Jake almost always takes Lucy to her pediatrician and allergist appointments, and even to her dentist appointments.  (To date, there have been no needles at Lucy's dentist, but my own sad and terrifying dental history involved many -- far too many -- needles.  That's for a future post, though.)  I've tried very hard to never talk about my needle fears with her, and also to avoid being present for her needle experiences.

But she's got it anyway.  She has to be physically retrained to have a shot or a blood draw.  Prior to all medical appointments, she demands to know whether or not it is possible that there will be shots, and even when we say "no shots," she is clearly anxious about going to the doctor.  She walks into the exam room and insists "NO SHOTS!" before anyone can even weigh or examine her in any way.  And when there is a shot or blood draw, it's really ugly.  I see parents of patients in other rooms look with worry and horror towards the closed door of Lucy's exam room, where she is screaming like she's being disemboweled or something worse.  After it's over, she almost always says "oh, that wasn't bad at all!" in this incredibly pathetic voice but the lead-up period (even hours or sometimes days before) is just dreadful. 

When we talked to the allergist and the pediatrician about the needle phobia, they suggested we get a numbing agent to apply to her arm prior to the blood draw.  So we had that this time.  It seems to have helped, but still, her anxiety was so high that she was curled up in a ball, crying until they were able to get her calm enough to do it. (I wasn't there, this is as reported by Jake.)

In trying to help her cope with her anxiety, I've been working on quelling my own needle phobia.  I even got a flu shot last year, and I now regularly have to get blood draws to manage my thyroid condition, so that has, perhaps helped to desensitize me.  But not entirely.  Mostly, I talk A LOT to the phlebotomist about how anxious I am, and she uses the tiniest needle, and often calls in the more experienced phlebotomist to actually do the deed so there's no mistakes.  But I've realized that being able to talk (or write) rationally about how irrational a phobia is doesn't change the fact that sometimes, our bodies are going to react in ways that we *know* don't make sense.  I *know* that the needle isn't going to hurt that much, but still, just thinking about it, I can't stop my body from being terrified.  It is confusing to realize that terror can be in the body.  That it can just ignore whatever your brain is very rationally saying.

And I feel terrible thinking that I've passed this terrible feeling on to Lucy somehow.  I was intrigued, while writing this post, to read that there's some research that suggests that some traumatic memories could be passed down through our DNA!  Yikes! Did my needle-phobia pre-date my own experience, or did my own experience create Lucy's?  Or are we both super-sensitive to pain?  Or is it all a coincidence?

I've discovered another data point.  Earlier this summer, I gave Lucy a two-piece bathing suit.  She tried it on, and I told her she could go wear it to the pool.  She squealed: "but then my belly button would be out!"  I was taken aback, as I did not know she had any issues with this.  When I queried further, she explained that she didn't like her belly button, and that she didn't want it to be out in the air.  I was worried at first, that it was some kind of body-issue thing (of the sort that plagues young girls at ever-younger ages).  But it wasn't really a concern about someone *seeing* her belly button.  It was that she didn't like how it felt for it to be out in the air.  I let it go and gave her the one-piece bathing suit.

But it came up again last week.  She was walking by on her way upstairs after a bath, and I heard her muttering "I wish I didn't have a belly button!  Why do we even have belly buttons?  Why don't they just go away when you don't need them anymore?" She knows that the belly button is where she was once attached to me, and she gets that it was a necessary part of her growth.  But since it is no longer needed, why doesn't it just, like get covered up or something?  Like the way the plates in your head grow together into your skull after you're all done with the birth canal.  And I agree with her: why DO we need belly buttons once we're no longer attached to our mothers?

It turns out, she may have also inherited this belly button issue -- Omphalaphobia -- from me.  And I swear I have *never* discussed this with her.

The origin of my own belly button phobia I can absolutely date to the birth of my kid brother, when I was five years old.  After I tried (and failed) to sell him to neighbors, and accepted that I was stuck with him, I took a good look and was confused by the belly button thing I saw, which was all scabby and weird looking to me (we were still waiting for that last bit of the umbilical cord to dry up and fall off).  Being a five year old at the time, I wanted to know more about it, and I asked.  And my father answered.  He explained the basic facts of the belly button, but he added his own special detail.  That special detail haunts me to this day.  My dad claimed (I am *sure* jokingly and I am *assuming* without knowing the effect it would have) that if your belly button became untied, which it might (he said) if you messed with it too much, you would be like a balloon that came untied, and you would *literally* fly around the room until you completed deflated.

I was a five year old with a very vivid imagination and a lot of experience blowing up balloons and then letting them fly around until they deflated. Was he trying to make sure I didn't poke at my baby brother's still-healing belly button?  Was he trying to be funny?  Was he sleep-deprived and unaware of the consequences of such vivid imagery in the mind of his five-year-old?  I wish I knew.

But then (and now) this sounded so completely horrifying that I could not (and cannot to this day) cannot cope with my belly button. 

And apparently, neither can Lucy.  Thus, onward through the generations, we reproduce ourselves and our phobias, whether we want to or not. 

Soon we should know the results of Lucy's blood test.  If it tells us that she has no peanut anti-bodies in her blood, then we get to have a PEANUT CHALLENGE at the allergist's office (note: not at all like the Pepsi Challenge).  She did this before, for walnuts, and was cleared (which was nice!).  Lucy is excited about the prospect of possibly being able to eat ALL the Halloween candy, although in general, she shows no interest in eating peanuts (or in eating much that is beyond her known dietary preferences). 

Otherwise, we're still carrying the epi-pen, which means we constantly have a needle (with an auto-injector) with us, no matter where we go.  Which means Lucy and I have our greatest fear with us All. The. Time. 

Happy House-iversary

Hey!  It's the anniversary -- 8 years! -- of when we moved into our house!

Check us out in our younger days here: http://thischarmingoldhouse.blogspot.com/2006/09/welcome-to-our-bloghouse.html

Apparently I haven't been doing a very good job of marking our house-iversary lately, since the last mention of this was our one-year: http://thischarmingoldhouse.blogspot.com/2007/08/one-year-house-anniverary.html 

And here we are today:

Left to right that's Bridget, Lucy, Alice, and Jake.  Note: not pictured: Norbert (fish), Ned (hermit crab), Ted (hermit crab).  Lucy wanted to bring them down for the family photo op, but relented when I shared my concern about how Alice might react.

Ah yes, Alice.  She's awesome, and we're delighted to share our home with this fuzzy, friendly beast.  We've discovered a few things about her:

• She does not like the colonial man statue that is in the yard of a neighbor down the street.  Prepare to be barked at, statue.
• She does not like it when someone arrives home after the family (and she) has gone to bed.  Prepare to be barked at, intruder.
• She would like to eat any crayons or colored pencils made available to her. Nom.
• She would like to CHASE ALL THE BIRDS.  Also, butterflies, or most flying things.
• She is a hesitant swimmer, but when cajoled & encouraged, will fetch a stick from the river.  
• She LOVES ALL THE DOGS AND WANTS TO PLAY WITH THEM.  She is learning how to accept "no" for an answer from certain dogs. 
• She's not great at stairs.
• She hates and/or is terrified by the car.  She does *not* want to ride in the car, despite the fact that we've taken her to several awesome places that she has loved.  She doesn't even want to go out the gate by the driveway, because it is near the car.
• She love love love loves Lucy.  And the feeling is mutual.

There is much, much more to learn about Alice.  We're just getting started.

Happy Labor Day, Happy September, and Happy Anniversary, 83 Durant!

Biker/Maker Weekend

Jake was off at D2R2 this weekend (as he has done in previous years), so Lucy and I had some serious making to do. In the realm of kitchen-making, I made hummus (some for a gathering of crafters, some in individual portions for work this week!) and a house-favorite pear cake.  But there was a much more important mission.  That mission: JET PACK!

Lucy proposed that what she really needs for back-to-school is a jet pack.  This seemed perfectly reasonable to me, so we got into it.

Here's the thing: we have a lot of crafting supplies.  A lot of rather random crafting supplies.  Plus, some pretty good imaginations, and a pretty good stock of recyclables like cardboard boxes and such.  So here is the jet pack that we put together:

Items included a "naturebox" delivery box (nice!), red solo cups (this is America), rick-rack trim that my mother salvaged years ago, straws, Q-tips, felt circles that I got online (from a company that makes felt and used to sell boxes of their random scraps), random foam from the recycling box, paint samples from the hardware store, glitter glue, tissue paper, and....well I think that's most of it.  The straps were from some canvas ribbon that was once on a present.

As we dug through the box of scraps and supplies, I found an old umbrella -- well, the fabric from an old umbrella -- and Lucy thought it would make a great parachute. So then the quest was to make a parachute to go with the jet pack, since our family is all about safety, and clearly if you're going to have a jetpack, you ought to have a parachute in case of an emergency.

This is what Lucy came up with:

As you can see, she felt that making a parachute dress was the best way to go.  I agree.  She put that all together herself by cutting and taping.  Later on, I cam back and did some sewing for her, but the design is all hers.  Below is the final version, with all sewing and glue-gunning done by me, but all design, direction, and vision provided by Lucy:

As you can see, she also created a remote control (popsicle stick, cardboard, stickers) and we made an emergency on/off button cuff (felt, elastic, glue gun).  Overall, a very successful maker day.

Also, we did some beading (fixed a necklace, made a couple bracelets) and some paper craft (a few cards out of an old biology textbook) with our crafter lady friends in the evening.

And Jake's bike ride was a success, too.  Hooray!

Also, Alice seems OK with her jet-packed sister.

Some thoughts on worldly matters

Warning: this post does not feature any discussion or images of the house, the child, or the dog (with one exception of a passing mention of Lucy).  If you are looking for those things, you might just want to skip this post.

The news has been hitting a bit close to home lately.  Jim Foley, the journalist who was working to tell the world about Syria (and whose murder is now the news story), was in the MFA program at UMass Amherst at the same time that I was in the PhD program.  I can't say that I knew him, but he was friends with my friends, and we were in the same orbit so to speak.  I can't even process what's happened to him, a man my age, who lost his life doing work for the world, work for humanity and justice.  I keep having to turn off the radio, especially when Lucy is around.

I'm also feeling a bit reluctant to engage in any news or social media right now, because it seems that the ice bucket challenge is everywhere.  If you've been deprived of the Facebooks, Twitter, or all major news networks, you perhaps don't know that a lot of people are dumping buckets of ice water over their heads in order to raise money for ALS.  I know I should be glad about it.  But I have a really hard time watching this meme take over the internets, even when my friends are doing it, and I know that they mean well.

If you're reading this, you probably know me, and if you know me, you probably know that my father died as a result of ALS.  In fact, it was ten years ago this past July that he died. My awareness of ALS could not possibly be made more aware.  And I just don't know what to do with all the giddy, gleeful ice-dumping that's happening right now.  I *know* that it's something that was started by someone who is personally dealing with ALS, and I can definitely imagine that among his family and friends, this activity was a way to have fun, a way to seek out and make some kind of meaning in a disease that robs a person and their family of everything.  Lord knows there's a lot less fun-having happening when you're dealing with ALS.

But there's something about all the videos (and now the various incarnations including people who have stupid accidents while attempting the ice bucket, and all sorts of celebrities getting in on the game) that makes me really uncomfortable.  While my Dad was sick, we were involved with the ALS Association, and they do indeed do a lot to promote research and advocate for people with ALS.  It is good that they are getting more money to do this work.  I am grateful to those who donate and those who are working on research and support for people with this disease.  When my Dad was alive, a member of my parents' group of friends organized a team for the local version of the "Walk to Defeat ALS" in Harrisburg.  I came home for that walk, and we all wore team T-shirts and walked as a group, and I suppose that was a good thing.  But what I really remember about that day was that my Dad was miserable.  It was a warm day, he was uncomfortable in his chair, and had to ride in the rather uncomfortable van we had acquired (at considerable cost and continual frustration) in order to provide occasional transportation for him at a point when he was pretty much constantly house-bound.  Out in the world, especially at an event like this, he felt like a spectacle, like everyone was looking at him with either pity or something else he didn't want.  That day at the walk, he did not want to be doing this thing that was being done for/with him.  And I was torn between feeling that we had to be the dutiful family and thank everyone for putting us through this, and agreeing with my Dad that this whole thing was pretty shitty: the fact that he had this disease, the fact that this disease was definitely going to kill him, and the fact that we apparently needed to raise money to (hopefully someday) stop this disease.  Surely, this was too much.

I guess what really bothers me is that we have to resort to this kind of thing -- walk-a-thons, ice buckets, whatever -- to raise money for research that will save someone's life someday.  I am reminded of the fact that a few years after my Dad died, I was visiting at home with my Mom and we went to the local CVS to pick up some things she needed.  At the checkout, the cashier asked, "would you like to make a donation to ALS?"  We were both sort of flabbergasted, as we were not used to hearing anyone talk about ALS in public, and we certainly weren't expecting a solicitation at the moment when we were paying for a prescription.  My knee jerk (cranky) reaction was to say "no thanks, we already gave at home" because it certainly felt like we gave enough to that damn disease.  Also, the whole wording of "donate to ALS" makes me a bit crazy.  Lord knows ALS doesn't need any help doing what it does.  Again, I don't want to quibble with CVS's plan to donate money to an organization that does good work.  But what struck me then, and strikes me again right now is that CVS, a corporation that makes its money by selling health care supplies to people who have health care needs, was asking that we donate to deal with insufficient funding of health care.  We were being asked to donate to help fund ALS research at the checkout in the very drugstore where we had regularly (and recently) purchased supplies (quite expensive supplies!) for my father's ALS: prescriptions for drugs that would not cure him, devices that were intended to help feed, bathe, or otherwise care for him, pads and tools and liquids and sundry unmentionables that become the everyday reality of life with ALS.  CVS, in fact, had actually profited from my father's illness.  In the moment, I tried to imagine how others would respond to this request.  What if you didn't know what ALS was -- would you ask the clerk at the CVS?  Would he or she explain it?  What would he/she say?  Why is this conversation even happening at the checkout of the CVS at all?  Why can't I just buy my [insert embarrassing personal care product here] anonymously and leave?  Please? 

Once something like the ice bucket challenge has virtually taken over social media, it's hard to push back on it without seeming like a killjoy or just someone who's trying to be contrarian.  We do get news -- good and bad -- from our social media network, and it *is* helpful (or at the very least, interesting) to see what friends (and friends of friends) are saying about the day's news.  But it seems like with things like the ice bucket challenge, there's not a lot of real responding to the problem.  People are "challenging" their friends to do the challenge (and their friends are then doing the challenge) but there seems to be a real disconnect about what the challenge is.  For one thing, I am baffled by the fact that you are supposed to *either* dump the bucket on your head *or* make a donation to ALS research.  Why set it up that way at all?  I realize a lot of people are doing both, but it just doesn't make sense: if you want to raise money, why would you give people the option to do the silly/fun thing to get OUT of making the donation? I also don't see how the ice bucket raises awareness of anything other than the ice bucket.  Is there some metaphorical meaning in here that I am missing?  Perhaps having the bucket of ice dumped on your head gives you that jolt of being awake and somehow you.....what?  Understand what is to have ALS?  Because I'm pretty sure it doesn't do that.  At all.

I was actually spurred to write something about my own relation to ALS and feelings about the bucket challenge after I read an article that came to me through Twitter (yes, thank you social media).  I got to M. J. Dinius's article, "On the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge and Ferguson" through a tweet from Alison.  You should read it:  http://avidly.lareviewofbooks.org/2014/08/21/on-the-als-ice-bucket-challenge-and-ferguson/

It's far more eloquent than I can be, and makes many more connections than I'm capable of developing right now.  I think you should read it.  In fact, if I were going to re-make the ice bucket challenge, I would challenge my network to read that article.  And if I were going even further, I'd challenge them to do something after reading it.  That something might be to donate to ALS research, or it might be to donate to students and librarians in Ferguson.  Or maybe you want to help journalists like Jim Foley do their work.  Or maybe you want to go read a bit more about how disability, or race, or class affects people -- real people -- in the real world and start thinking about (and working towards) fixing the inequalities in our world.  ALS is only one of the problems.  Scientists (with a lot of money) might actually be able to fix that one someday.  But there's a lot of other kinds of thinking and working that needs to be done to fix the other problems. 

I don't know how dumping a bucket of ice on anyone's head is a way of raising awareness about anything.  If you are aware of a disease, it is likely because someone you know has or had it.  Maybe that someone you know is someone you really know, like your parent or your child.  Maybe that someone you know is just someone everyone "knows" like Michael J. Fox.  But I wish that the fact that you know or "know" someone with a disease didn't have to be the reason you wanted there to be a cure for it.  I would like to think that if there was someone in front of you who needed help, you wouldn't stop to ask if you knew that person.  Maybe you could just help.  And then maybe you could get to know that person.

It is clear that the ice bucket challenge is successfully raising a lot of money, but the giddiness, the gleeful videos, they just leave me, well, cold.  

Go ask Alice

Alice has now been with us for just over a week, and she's fitting right in.  We did a hike in Lowell Dracut State Forest today, and a walk on the Vandberg Esplanade, and she thoroughly enjoyed herself.  And here she is, all tired out:

I know, right?  Ridiculously cute. And curled up so tiny!

Some back story for Alice: She came to us through Canine Commitment of New England, a rescue group we found on Petfinder.  She was in a shelter in Tupelo Mississippi since she was a puppy, when she was apparently brought in as a stray.  The folks in the shelter asked if the rescue group would bring her up before she got much bigger, thinking she had a better chance of getting adopted as a pup.  She's about 5 months old.  She's likely part lab, as she has webbed feet.   But other than that, we don't have much to go on.  She's almost 30 pounds.  The head vet at our vet office said she wouldn't get much taller but should/would fill out a bit, likely topping out around 36 or 38 pounds.  But we've had random strangers tell us she could make it to 75 pounds!  Eek!  Is she part great dane?  Who knows!

So far it's been a bit chaotic adapting to life with a puppy.  Thankfully, she is mostly house-trained, and we've had very few accidents.  Also, she's been a good sleeper at night (or maybe we're just too tired to hear her).  She stays in the downstairs hallway without protest (although with plenty of barriers keeping her from other areas).

She's a bit rambunctious in the morning, which is a bit frustrating when all you want to do is quietly make a caffeinated beverage and quietly check e-mail and quietly wake up.  But we're figuring it out.  We've been seeing a lot of our neighborhood in the early morning.

This is my first puppy experience.  People keep reminding me that she is still a puppy, and I can't expect grown-up dog behavior.  There is a lot of chewing.  Do not leave shoes lying about.  Do not provoke her with shoelaces.  Or the swing of a swingy skirt.  All will be chewed.

I was weary of her earlier this week, and complained to our friend Paula (keeper of all dogs).  I foolishly compared her to our previous dog, when Paula told us that we didn't have a dog before, we had an animated rug.  "Animated rug" is an oddly apt way to describe Carter.  I know I have to stop comparing the two, but it's hard to avoid it.  Here's a shot of Alice with a toy she inherited from Carter:

That's Big Mean Kitty.  She was in pristine shape when Carter received her as a present soon after his arrival here.  Carter was never much of a chewer.  There's a hole in Big Mean Kitty's side from when our guest, Mackie, chewed him, but we sewed it up, and Carter never inflicted any real damage on Big Mean Kitty.  I don't know if you can see it in this picture, but Big Mean Kitty no longer has ears.  And I imagine she will soon lose other appendages, too, to the ravages of Alice.

But she's been very sweet, loves people, and moves quite a lot faster then Mr. Carter did.  And we're very glad to have a furry creature among us again.

Dog Days of Summer

It's been many months since I've posted an update here, but not for lack of interesting things happening.  My term as an administrator was fairly all-consuming and generally awful, and then it took some time to recover.  A few other spring events, and then summer travels kept me from getting back to you.

But I'm back.  Here's the February - July 2014 News Roundup for 83 Durant:

February

• Meryl Streep was supposed to come hang out.  Instead, we got a bad snowstorm (one of several this winter) and a postponed event.  This essentially doubled the work for the event.  Not a great start to the semester.
• Lucy started taking swimming lessons.  Despite her insistence that she knows how to swim, she does not.
• Lucy continued with ice hockey, becoming a better skater than both her parents (not too difficult).
• We went to Lowell's WinterFest and had a great time.
• Lucy lost some teeth! https://www.flickr.com/photos/jakeb/12580076933/

March

• We had an awesome Rock of Ages Reunion with Elizabeth, Ian, Christy, and Eric: 

• We skipped our usual large-scale St. Patrick's Day party, much to the sadness of many of our long-time guests.  The kids were just fine about it:

• Bridget started going to a chiropractor!  (Signifying the general awfulness of her job *and* the impending doom of turning 40).
•  Bridget turned 40.  The world did not end, despite the depiction of the day by Lucy:

Jake and Lucy made me a cake in honor of Three Mile Island (the disaster that happened on my Birthday), including dry ice smoke and a blinking red light from the cooling tower, which was awesome:

April: This was a month of radical highs and lows:
I should note that in recent history for us, April has been THE WORST. As evidence, see my post from last year here.

• Meryl Streep finally came.

• Oh, and she brought Chris Cooper with her:

• Bridget flew to Harrisburg for a conference and had all kinds of flashbacks from her misspent central Pennsylvania youth.  Also, her return flight was cancelled, creating all kinds of additional chaos.
• We went to see The Book of Mormon with Elizabeth, Ian, and Mike.  It was awesome!
• We visited the Peabody-Essex Museum and walked around Salem.
• We had a wonderful Easter with Matt & Mary and the rest of the fabulous Christian Hill Cocktail Society gang: 

 

 

• But the very worst part of April, and indeed the very worst part of our year, was April 21st, when our dear, wonderful dog, Mr. Carter Stephen Bridge passed away.  We're all doing a lot better now, but it was a very difficult time for all of us, especially Lucy.

April was just pretty much crazy.  The cruelest month and all that.  We're glad it's over.

May

• Lucy was Star Student in her class again! She did a lot of writing about dogs at school.
• I attended, organized, and/or spoke at a lot of end-of-semester events.
• Some people went really crazy at the end of the semester and I dealt with it.
• Graduation happened.  I photobombed my students a lot.
• I don't think I have any photos from this entire month, which may indicate that it was even worse than April, but I don't have enough evidence (lacking the photos) to prove it. 

June

• We went to see The Kids in the Hall live in Boston with Elizabeth and Ian.  It was such a great show!
• I went to see Morrissey with Elizabeth.  Again, awesome.  Also, we felt pretty lucky because he cancelled most of the other shows on that leg of the tour.
• We went to a Spinners game for Father's Day.
• Lucy had her last day of Kindgergarden! Here she is with BFF Ruth:
  
• We vacationed in Northampton!  Yeah!  To get all the details, you should just look at the Flickr pictures from then: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jakeb/14298508769/ But to sum up, we stayed in an AirBnB apartment around the corner from the apartment where we lived in grad school.  We hung out at Look Park, went to the Mutton and Mead Festival (where Lucy tried out archery, made her own jump rope, and we all watched jousting!), and visited the Eric Carle Museum (where we saw a film about and got to see Norton Juster, author of The Phantom Tollbooth).  We continued the literary tourism with a visit to Emily Dickinson's house, which Lucy loved.  She even took notes during the tour.  She also blew my mind when she corrected the tour guide in his reading of a Dickinson poem: the version we had read was different, and she had correctly remembered one of the variants (Dickinson's editors really butchered her poems).  We rode the tandem all over the place, visited the Bridge of Flowers and saw the glacial potholes in Shelburne Falls, and ate very, very well at all our favorite spots in the valley (Hungry Ghost for pizza & bread, Herrell's for ice cream, and a bunch of other places for drinks & snacks).  It was a perfect vacation, and we hope to do it again soon.

July

• The Livingstons came to visit!  John & Rose & Jessamy & Megan & Jamie came to hang out with us in Lowell, including a visit to the Western Ave Artists Studios.  We did a little trip to Salem, where we visited the Peabody Essex Museum again, and ate at our favorite bakery, A&J King.  We also stopped by Nathaniel Hawthorne's House of the Seven Gables, bought some candy at the Ye Olde Pepper Candy Companie (the oldest candy company in the US), and visited the S.S. Friendship, a very cool old ship.   It was great!  

There are a ton of pictures on Flickr if you want all the visuals: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jakeb/14588889061/

• We went to Rehoboth, Delaware with all of the family.  There was a wedding shower for Abby, a visit to Funland, trips to the Farmer's Market, lots of time in the ocean, and all sorts of other fun.  We also acquired a new pet, a hermit cab named Ned (as well as his companion, Ted):
  
  It was a great week.  All the photos here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jakeb/14677708343/
• We visited at Grandma's house in Carlisle along with the Maryland Marshalls.  Check us out in this charmingly terrible family portrait: 

• During our visit, we went to Hersheypark.  We were there from 10 in the morning to 10 at night, and it was amazing. The kids were great, and we all got to ride a ton of amazing things.  Lucy and Luke got on very well and enjoyed a ton of rides.  Lucy did her first roller coaster, the Cocoa Cruiser.  Luke went from Cocoa Cruiser to the Trailblazer (which he rode repeatedly), so it seems he's on track to follow his dad's roller coaster thrill-seeking.  Jake got to ride the SooperDooperLooper for the first time. We did the Chocolate World tour, and got to meet the various chocolate-based characters.  It was a great, nostalgic time.
• When we finally returned to Lowell, it was time to get busy with an important task: finding a new family member, in the form of a dog.  After many tries, we finally got to meet and then bring home the charming, roughly 5-month-old Alice:
  
• The fun continued when we got home, with Ruth's 7th Birthday Party! 
  
  We even brought Alice for a bit of it:
  
  
• We also went to the Folk Festival, which was awesome. We even brought Alice, who did really, really well with meeting a ton of people and other dogs.  She was remarkably placid when faced with people eating food, and with all the craziness around her.  She's fitting right in.
• For the last week of July, Lucy had day camp at RecKids (at the rec center on campus).  She has LOVED it. She swam every day. This afternoon, we get to attend her end-of-camp celebration with her.
• And now it's August.  I can hardly believe it.  It's been a busy six months.  I hope to continue with more regular updates.  Is anyone still even reading this?

Happy Dog Days of Summer!

Storytelling and Writing and Celebrity Sighting

The semester is heating up despite the super-cold weather, and there's not much time to take a breath. This may be the last post for a while, since my new boss job is pretty draining. But of late, there's been a lot of story-telling going on in our house, and much of it seemed worthy of documentation.

Lucy's reading has been moving ahead at a surprising pace.  Every day she's reading and writing more and more words.  She and her BFF Ruth together are quite a menace.  The other day, they created this protest sign, directed at Ruth's brother, Woody:

Don't you love the positive reinforcement there?

In addition, Lucy has been writing book after book.  It's a bit intimidating for other authors who live in the same house.  Recently, she's been doing these adorable little accordion fold books; they look like this:

Here's a closer view of the one on birds:

And here's the one on "Hot," which she has targeted at audiences age 2 & up:

And now that she can read and all, apparently she's writing a new book explaining to others how to read:

She's really onto something here.  The more kids she can teach to read, the more readers she'll have, and the more books she'll sell! Genius!

In other exciting Lucy-reading news, the other morning, she read me part of my own book (no not the academic one, the children's one).  It was a tear-inducing moment, I will confess.

Also, just because I wouldn't want you to hear this from someone else first, I thought I should let you know that I'm soon going to have another brush with a famous person.  That person is:

I am not going to type her name because I don't want it to be googled with "Lowell" and end up having my students find my blog.  Ahem.

Anyway, you may recall, that a while back, this happened:

And I wrote about it here: http://thischarmingoldhouse.blogspot.com/2012/12/on-meeting-literary-heroes-part-2.html 
Also, if you want to see me terrified and excited and living the dream, you can watch me introduce King on the official video of the event here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8TkQvdJVbc&list=PLD91T9qx40vrwAuWOj0Rq5ysPBikIkgAo&index=2

Well, it seems we have a reprise, this Wednesday afternoon. I will be introducing our esteemed visitor (photo above).  So, as you can imagine, all I can think about now is: WHAT am I going to wear????  Also, I am hoping she will sign my clipboard.  In my new job as boss, I have a clip-board-based organization system that pleases me and terrorizes others.  There's a wall with project/problem-based clipboards, with appropriate labels.  The famous person has her own personally named clipboard.  I am looking forward to finishing that event (and retiring that clipboard) so that I can tend to the other, less glamourous, but nontheless pressing clipboards.

Perhaps you would like to see?

There you go.  Also, all the clipboards are full now (that was a photo from Day 1).  Now you know why my faculty are now calling me "Dread Chair Marshall," and cowering under my clip-board-based reign of terror.

So if I ever emerge from the impending week of celebrity-induced madness here on campus, I'll try to update you on our household's ever-growing web of celebrity connections.