I LOVE the Twin Cities!

I think I've done a post like this before, but this time of year, when it's currently -2 and there's been a foot+ of snow on the ground for more than 6 weeks, and spring is still several months off, it's important to remind myself of how awesome this place is. So,

Oh Twin Cities, how I love thee. Let me count the ways...

1. Last night, I needed a haircut, so I made an appointment at Juut's New Artist Academy. They use only Aveda stuff and have locations throughout the metro. Before you get your cut, you get a scalp, shoulder & face massage. Then, when you're having your hair washed, you get to lie down on a BED! And then you get a great cut (the people there are already stylists -- this is the graduate school of hair). All for $25!! Friggin' awesome.

2. The salon was in Uptown -- an area of town for people who think they are cool and want to be cool, but aren't quite hip enough to live in the really up-and-coming areas, like Seward. As I was driving around that neighborhood, I couldn't help but notice all of the great places to shop & eat. There's Falafel King, a spot that hearkens back to Matt's love affair with that shwarma place in the Village. There's Penzey's -- a specialty shop for spices and seasonings that are absolutely phenomenal. There's Bryant Lake Bowl -- a bowling alley & restaurant that is touted all over local sustainable living guides for it's eco-friendliness in its menu and practices. And there's a ton of consignment stores, non-chain coffee shops, second-hand bookstores & music stores and ethnic restaurants. I can't wait for warmer weather so we can load up the boys and go spend an afternoon wandering around.

3. Also in that neighborhood is French Meadow Bakery, so I stopped on my way home to get the Mr. & I some fancy desserts. I got a slice of a cappuccino chocolate torte, a tres leche cake and a passion fruit truffle (sorry sweetie, I ate that on my way home). They were wonderful, and we just ate them slowly and relaxed while we watched the State of the Union. Yum.

4. Anything that I have considered doing with my life (as a career), there's a school here to help me get it done. There are tons of options for me to get my master's in education (including a teaching fellows program), there are two acupuncture schools, there's a program for homeopathic medicine, there's a university that is offering a master's in holistic health sciences, which I could do jointly with a master's in social work. The yoga studio a couple miles away where I go offers instructor training -- a complete program for 200- or 290-hour certification. One of my only requirements when Matt and I were talking about where we wanted to move was that it be a place with opportunities for me to explore what I wanted to do professionally (this is the biggest strike for me against the little town in Vermont that we were considering...). Anyway, as it turns out, I've pretty much decided just to take the bar exam here next February and open my own practice -- yay! I'll specialize in family and adoption law, but to the extent I'm comfortable, I'll do some general stuff, too -- simple wills, health care proxies, formation documents for small businesses, etc. We have lots of friends and I know lots of people who can give me the connections to make this happen, and I'm actually kind of excited. The Twin Cities is this metropolitan area made up of little communities that are pretty self-serving. Several of our friends here in SLP actually grew up in SLP, and went to the same schools their kids go to. It's got a small-town vibe, with the benefits and opportunities of a bigger city. So I'm pretty confident that I can do this on my own terms. I will NOT be a slave to deposition schedules or motion practice or partner demands. I'll probably not make too much money, either, but I'll be in control of my own career.

5. Last weekend, sweetie and I took cross-country skiing lessons in a great regional park about 15 minutes from our house. There are three park options close to us that have groomed x-country trails that are even lighted at night. Next week I'm going skiing around a lake in the woods at night with a friend of mine. As much as I'm starting to feel the Vitamin-D deprivation, I am thrilled that we live in a place where this is possible. All of these parks have ski rentals (for $8), and the class was only $17 a person for two hours of instruction. This city (county? state?) is incredibly devoted to helping people get outdoors and enjoy what nature has to offer.

6. And along those lines, we're in love with the bike trail that we can hop on less than a 1/2 mile from our house. That trail can take Matt all the way to his office, or to get on the Grand Rounds, which encircle each of the major lakes in Minneapolis, or out to Lake Minnetonka, the huge resort-like lake that's a few miles in the opposite direction. It even goes right past Noah's school, so this spring, when we can get that boy riding a two wheeler, I can put Luke in the trailer and we can ride bikes to drop Noah off at school. Our neighbors do that all the time in the warmer weather. How awesome?

7. And speaking of schools, do to a recent structuring of the schools in SLP, our kids are going to be going to middle school now for grades 6-8 (instead of just 7-8), and the middle school is a block from our house. I'm so excited that our kids are going to get to walk back and forth to school -- that was something I always wanted to be able to do when I was a kid, but couldn't. AND, SLP's high school was just ranked #1 in the state -- a state which is consistently ranked high in the nation for education.

8. There are a gazillion ice-skating options all around us. Noah is doing lessons on Saturday mornings at the Rec Center (where the boys could also do rink rat hockey, swimming lessons, soccer, and through which I can do yoga, zumba, knitting classes, meditation classes, classes on thrifty grocery shopping, estate planning, gardening, cooking, and a million of things). But then we have all gone skating together, too. Last week we tried Oak Hill park, which has two small rinks -- one with a wall and the other with hockey nets, and then a track that encircles both. It had a great warming house where you could buy hot chocolate to placate your sons while mommy took one more loop outside, and there's also one of the best sledding hills in the city right next to the rinks.

9. 2 and 1/2 hours to Duluth & Lake Superior, 4 hours to the Boundary Waters, 10 hours drive from the Black Hills! A day and a half to Yellowstone!

10. CSAs -- in Charlotte, I had about three or four to choose from. Here there are about 20-30 to choose from. Sure, the growing season is a few weeks shorter (I got my first delivery in Charlotte toward the end of April; here they don't start delivering until the second week of June), but you get more root and cold-hearty vegetables, so that's the trade-off.

11. Co-ops and farmers' markets galore! I have 5 different co-ops that are within pretty easy driving distance for me. And our favorite farmers' market is the Mill City market. It is situated right in the middle of the old flour milling district on the Mississippi River. When developing the area, they did a tremendous job of preserving some the architecture and history of that area. But there's also the Guthrie Theater right there, parks, bike lanes, etc. And most importantly to the boys, there's a very nice Hmong man there that makes balloon animals. And most importantly to Matt, there's an incredible food stand that makes, reportedly, the best crab cakes in the city, and truly the most delicious donuts we've ever had. But when we don't feel like going all the way across downtown, we can go to a smaller little market just a couple of miles away -- it's the kind of place where the farmers stand behind their table to get to know your name when you're a repeat customer.

12. Early childhood education here is unlike any other place we've lived. There's mandatory pre-K screening to identify any developmental issues early. There's ECFE, which is a combo of parenting classes and preschool that almost everyone participates in. There's preschool programs subsidized by the city (Luke goes to one of these), and they have several options designed for low-income families, kids whose parents both work, and kids who need extra help. Luke's teachers talked to me about a little speech therapy for him, and they arranged for a specialist to come to his class to evaluate him. If he needs help, the cost will be covered by the city, as will transportation to and from sessions if we need it. For kindergarteners, the school identifies kids who may need a little extra help, and keeps them for an hour and a half after school ends, feeds them lunch, gives them an hour of small group instruction, then takes them home on the bus. Again, all free of charge to the parents.

13. Hennepin County libraries are awesome! I don't know anyone who doesn't go regularly. They even offer passes to all of the museums, zoos, etc., so you can check one out and go to any of them free of charge.

14. Westwood Nature Center, a block from our house, had an adorable Halloween party that we went to with friends, and the kids loved it. There's a mile and a half loop around the lake, there's a playground set in the woods, and there's a nature center that has playgroups, rents snowshoes, and hosts weekday classes for preschoolers, and week-long camps throughout the summer, in addition to workshops, hikes and programs designed for the whole family.

15. The restaurant options here are awesome. Tons of local, sustainable food options. Restaurants on the water and in high rises. Every ethnic choice you could hope for. And several of them try very hard to make kids welcome, at least during certain times (brunch, early dinner, etc.). Sure, there's still a line outside of the Olive Garden on a Saturday night, and we will admit to eating the at the Chili's down the road more often than we care to admit, but we have big aspirations for the culinary adventures we will embark upon when we don't have to bring crayons and legos with us.

16. The kite-flying festival on (frozen) Lake Harriet, the MN Zoo, the Minneapolis Institute of the Arts, the Walker Sculpture Garden, Eagle's Nest, tree-house like playgrounds, countless beaches where the kids can wile away hours playing the sand and trying to catch minnows, the REI with the kids' play area, the Lake Harriet-Lake Calhoun trolley, the MN State Fair, the Science Museum, fruit-picking orchards and fields galore, Prairie Home Companion, Liberty Custard, cheese curds, fire stations that give free tours AND rides for kids' birthday parties, Park Tavern Bowling Alley, and countless other things that we haven't even discovered yet.

17. The large airport 20 minutes away where we will go in less than a month to fly to Galveston, TX to visit my brother. We're using frequent flier miles, we'll get free lodging with Matt, and it was 70 degrees there two days ago, with no snow in site. Perfect.

I love my nieces

I love Kaia (almost 7) and Audie (3 1/2) for many, many reasons, not the least of which right now is that they allow me to live vicariously through them, both as a former doll-obsessed little girl, and a mother of two boys. My nieces, God bless them, love American Girl Dolls. Today I just bought Kaia, whose 7th birthday is Sunday, the pet bunny that belongs to her newest doll, Julie. This is Kaia's 4th American Girl Doll -- she has Kaya, Kit, Ruthie & now Julie. This probably means nothing to most of you, but it takes me back to my Cabbage Patch Kid days, in all their glory.

This summer when Mike, Kerri & the kids were visiting, Kerri & I made the trek to Mall of America (something I am generally loathe to do), so we could give Kaia a special trip to the American Girl Doll store. Her doll Kaya, who is an American Indian, was having some hair issues, and the store has a beauty shop (oh yes). So Kaya was attended to by a professional AGD hair stylist. She was changed into a spa robe, placed in a salon chair, and given the works. She got beautiful new braids AND got her ears pierced (Kaia had also just gotten her ears pierced).

And anyway, while we were there, I got to look around. Oh, how I longed to be a little girl again. I fell in love with all of those dolls! They're so interesting! My favorite -- and the one I really want for my birthday this year -- is Rebecca. She's a Russian-Jewish girl in 1914 in New York City, and I love her. I tried to persuade Kaia to get her next, but she opted instead for Julie, the little sixties flower child. Hippie. I'll have to start working on Audie, -- maybe she'll cave to the pathetic requests of her Aunt Mary.

As I write this post, my two sons are selecting, over and over again on On-Demand, the Lego Indiana Jones show, while playing with there Indiana Jones legos. Noah is home sick today with a fever, a bad cough, and "little drops of throw-up." And Luke, who's lazing around in his pajamas, just announced, "Ok, I give up. I need to go pee-pee." [Pause] Ok, now I gotta go wipe Luke's butt.

Mother Guilt

Mothers of young children are encouraged to volunteer in the classroom (be in the kindergarten or preschool one, in my case). I was a room mother for Noah's preschool class in Charlotte, and he seemed genuinely happy to see me when I appeared in his class. But at the same time, he seemed to prefer to hang out with me (yes, I am that cool), and nervously engaged in the activities of his classmates, and only when I prodded him. As an example of how our presence affected his behavior:

When he was 3, his teachers invited all of the kids' families to their holiday party. My parents and Uncle Mark came, too. First we all did some crafts together, then ate Christmas cookies -- you know, the usual preschool party stuff. And then the kids were going to do a little concert. The teachers gathered all of the toddlers at the front of the class for their performance. Noah quietly sat with his classmates, starring at us, but when the music started, he subtley turned around, bent down and stuck his little butt in the air. He stayed that way through the whole thing. All 12 of the other children, their smiling faces beaming proudly toward their parents and family, sang and made the requisite adorable arm motions, except our kid. He just bent over with his ass in the air. 12 happy, shining faces and one ass. As the other parents stared at each other, wondering whose kid's ass was ruining a perfectly good photo op, my beet-red face and giggling gave me away. In any event, I think (hope?), he wouldn't have done that if we hadn't been there, so I tried to limit my attendance at school so I didn't negatively affect his mojo.

But all of that is just an aside. The real story is that today, I didn't have any errands to run during the 1 hour and 15 minutes I have in between kid pick-ups, so I thought I'd hang out in Luke's class for a while to help out, watch him play, etc. We're trying to decide what kind of preschool we should put him in next year, so I wanted to observe him in action and see how he behaved in this setting. (His teachers swear to me that he is an angel in school, despite my frequent apologies for his stubbornness.) I had asked him a couple of months ago if I could come to school with him, and he firmly answered that I could not, because school was just for little kids, not mommies. Fine. But this time, I decided not to ask permission and just do it. After we got him situated (cup in the bucket, frog with his name on it in the basket, jacket in the locker, etc.), I was just standing there, asking him what he was going to do first -- art table, puzzles, etc. He looked at me in confusion and said, "Mom, why are you still here? You need to just leave."

I calmly told him I wanted to stay so I could play with him and help his teachers, and he said "No, just leave."

My first instinct of course was Ouch. But then I rethought that. From one perspective, it should actually be perceived as a good thing that my kid doesn't want me at school. It means he feels safe there, he feels a sense of personal identity -- that is his turf, and he's independent and self-possessed enough to function just fine without me. These are, in fact, all good things -- exactly the qualities I want to instill in my kids. And what's more, what the hell was I complaining about? Not getting to hang out with 15, 3 year-olds for an hour? Had I gone mad? I know that a good mom is supposed to be thrilled to volunteer in her kid's class, but I've never claimed to be a "good mom" (the best I am hoping for is just not to raise total assholes), and I've hardly been beating down the schools' doors to volunteer my time. And here my kid was kind enough to let me off the hook. I only get 3 hours a week to myself, damn it. So I headed down the street to the bakery, ordered a banana pecan scone and a coffee and read a book. Perfect morning. Thanks, Lukey.

(That being said, I came home and emailed Noah's teacher to ask when would be a good time for me to come there (in my very mature way, I'll just hang out with the kid who actually likes having me around). And, I recently appointed by the town school board to sit on its committee on Human Rights, so "check" on the to-do list item for community involvement and volunteerism. I'm so pathetically susceptible to guilt.)

The First Two

Inspired by Robertson, I chose as one of my New Year's resolutions to aim to read 25 books this year, and I figure I'll keep track of them here. (Since Brian shamed me into blogging more, I may as well take advantage of the medium.)

1. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America, by Barbara Ehrenreich

This was my second attempt at this book -- I've been doing a lot of that lately, starting and stopping books. I just figure life is too short and there are too many good books out there to bother with ones that don't interest you. But I had heard too many wonderful things about this particular book, among which was that I could not consider myself a true bleeding-heart liberal and not read it. So I did, and I urge everyone else in the world to also. It's heartbreaking and eye-opening and infuriating, all at the same time.

The book chronicles the author's attempt to live on minimum wage, and she does so in three different parts of the country (the Keys, near her actual home, coastal Maine and the Twin Cities). She took abundantly reasonable steps to make the experiment as real as possible to mimic the experiences of your average blue-collar worker who would have to settle down and try to make a life for him or herself. But, unlike many such folks, she did not have a spouse or any children to support, and she was not burdened with any debt.

And (spoiler alert!, but only if you live in a hole), she couldn't do it. A single, middle-aged, healthy woman could not support herself, eat a semi-healthful diet, and live in anything other than squalor, on minimum wage. And the experiences she recounted of how she was treated in these minimum wage jobs was so depressing, causing many uncomfortable flashbacks of the summer my parents made me work at KMart. Nepotism got me that job (dad was the pharmacist) the summer in between my sophomore and junior years of college (my unpaid internships for the U.S. Congressman and the United Way weren't satisfactorily contributing to the bottom line). My "education," energy and work ethic -- relative to the middle-aged woman who had spent their lives on their feet at those cash registers -- shot me to Employee of the Month and Customer Service Desk Manager a mere two weeks into the job, and I will never forget the disgust and disdain flowing from my co-worker (she was not my supervisor, even though she had been there 12 years and I had been there two weeks), when I got to leave early one day because my new contacts were irritating my eyes. Because who the hell was I? Some college snot without a clue as to how privileged I was, evidenced by the ridiculous amount of time I spent bitching to my parents about that job.

So anyway, a quick must-read, frustrating in that you're left not knowing what you can do to solve a massive problem in our society. But at the very least, the tips we leave will be as large as we can afford, we'll do our best to show our respect, and our children will definitely be forced spend a few summers working shit jobs for no money.

2. Grace (Eventually), Thoughts on Faith, by Anne Lamott

This is the fourth book of hers that I've read, and she is by far one of my favorite writers. Reading most of her non-fiction (the books are largely reprints of columns and essays published previously -- she has written a lot for Salon), is a deeply personal endeavor. She talks motherhood, politics, family, friends, disease, and body image, all with a spiritual bent. Not necessarily a book for the atheists or cynics in the crowd, but definitely one for those of us who are overwhelmed sometimes by fear and self-doubt, and who need help to be reminded to just slow down and take a deep breath.

Not enough politcs lately

Now that we don't have Bush to bitch about, there hasn't been a lot of political rambling on the blogs lately. Allow me to correct that.

Sweetiecakes recently came upon this article published in New York magazine, "Saint Elizabeth and the Ego Monster." It's basically about what a douchebag John Edwards is/was, and how Elizabeth isn't all she's cracked up to be, either. It's long, but take the time to read it -- fascinating and entertainning article. I take it with a grain of salt, as there wasn't a lot of insight into how the author got his facts, but even if some of it is true, it paints a scary picture for me -- another example of how risky it is to trust in the honor and integrity of public figures (or anyone?).

The Tiger Woods thing was a big disappointment to me, too, because I am a walking cliche --a naive, rose-colored-glasses kind of gal who wants to believe in the inherent goodness of humanity. Is it so far-fetched that a person who has cameras in his face a lot, or is held up in the public eye to be awesome (whether as a politician, sports hero, movie star, etc.), can also be faithful to the woman he purports to love? That such a person can keep it in his pants when the woman he pledged his life to is pregnant with his child, or spending hours on end in a hospital having radiation treatments so she doesn't die? that such a person -- who lives with cameras in his face -- can recognize that if he can't keep it in his pants, someone will find out about it, and when they do, his betrayal and disrespect and selfishness will humiliate not only his wife, but their friends and family? and that his children will likely spend the better part of their lives, in one way or the other, coming to terms with the fact that their father in, in fact, a douchebag?

And so as not to put this all on men, why is it that there are so many women out there in the public eye who revel in their reputation as loving, compassionate, sensitive people (or simply awesome in their own right, whether as activists or super-gestators) who in reality treat those around them like shit (Mrs. Edwards, Mrs. Gosselin, etc.). How is it that we foster this culture of obsession that allows people to perceive themselves as better than the rest of us? Do we, as the viewing, listening public, have such a collective low self-esteem that we allow these people to behave this way? Where is our outrage? Where is our decency? Is there anyone out there asking these people, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" A President of the United States had an intern half his age blow him in the oval office, down the hall from his wife and daughter, then lie about it under oath, to the entire world, but we now still hold him up as one of the best presidents in recent history. And that wife, whom he betrayed and humiliated and lied to (repeatedly), in front of the entire world, in front of her own daughter, stayed with him, at least in part, allegedly, to bolster her own political ambitions. How is that a lying, adulterous, impeached leader can be a political asset? What the fuck is wrong with these people?

Holy crap. I had an acupuncture appointment this morning and it must have freed a lot of pent up energy. I need to go take a nap.

Shut up, Brian

Fine. I'll blog. Because frankly, I'm giving in to everyone lately.

Luke, in particular. He's missed two of the last three days of school because he didn't want to go and I didn't want to argue with him. I really won't argue with Luke about much of anything lately, and for this, I admit that I suck. And if I'm going to be completely honest, I would also have to admit the primary reason he did not want to go to school is because such an outing would interrupt his marathon viewing of Tom & Jerry Go To Mars. $4.75 at Target buys so much joy for that child. I'm not proud of this.

But while we're on the subject, I'll give you a little update on Luke that wasn't quite worthy of the Christmas letter. He won't drink a smoothie unless he gets to help make it. He won't bathe unless Mr. Bubble joins him in the tub. He generally won't eat dinner unless popcorn, cheese or crackers are served as a side dish, and even then, he'll only eat that side dish. Two nights ago his dinner consisted of 5 pieces of string cheese (but it was organic, so that's ok, right?). His favorite word is "butt." He adds to it any sentence to make that sentence funny. At Christmas at my parents' house, when he was DRUNK off of the m&ms that my mother was willingly doling out to him by the handful, he came into the living room to serenade everyone with Jingle Bells. It was a lovely rendition by a drunken 3 year-old, slurred speech and all. Then he announced he was going to single "the funny one." I figured we'd get the "batman smells" version, a perennial favorite. But instead, he sang the entire song, just as before, but at the end, he shouted "BUTT!" Then he lauged hysterically, grabbed another handful of m&ms and disappeared into the basement. He passed out about 45 minutes later.

Yesterday, I walked into the boys' room to hear Noah telling Luke that he didn't want Luke to put his penis in Noah's face. Why would Noah ever have to utter such a sentence? Because Luke's favorite thing to do these days is de-pants himself and dance around the house, demanding that everyone check out his butt (and more recently, his winkie). And speaking of Luke's penis, there's something wrong with it because when he pees, the stream is at a minimum of a 45-degree angle, even when he points it straight down. He's been known to piss in his own face. He goes through several pairs of underwear each day, that is, if he's even willing to put underwear on in the first place. He's a big fan of freeballing.

I think I need to make an appointment with my therapist.