Remembering 9/11


In 2001, I was a gal with her own apartment, and a live-in boyfriend and his pet African Pygmy Hedgehog. (Don’t judge us, we were poor. And he claimed he was too young to get married…at 23 years old.) I worked at my job that was a 40 minute commute one way. I had been there for 2 years and didn’t like it much. (I told myself if I was there past 5 years, I would kill myself. I was there for 12 years…until they went bankrupt and out of business.)

11 years ago, to the same time of day, I was sitting in my cubicle, just settling in for a day of work. In an office you pretend to not hear everyone else around you, although you can totally hear everyone else around you. People started to talk about a plane crash. Now, I drove past the small Ann Arbor Municipal Airport every day on my way to work. I had just been past it not 10 minutes earlier. I didn’t see any plane crash, I thought to myself.

Then my curly-haired friend came over and told me that two airplanes had crashed into the World Trade Center.

“Is that in Chicago?” I asked. She replied they were in New York.

I went with her back to her cubicle because her computer had the Internet. (In my peon job, I was not trusted with the Internet until 2003.) A guy who was a military reservist at the time said that there had been a crash at the Pentagon as well. There were rumors of another plane that was headed for the Capitol, but had crashed before it reached its destination.

It seemed sort of exciting. Sort of drove me nuts that there was no TV to get any news from in the building. I went back to my desk to work. Then my boss and his boss came over and told me that if I felt uncomfortable with staying at work, I could go home.

“Hells ya!” Well, I didn’t say that, but that is how I felt. Like a child who had been told school would get out early because a devastating snow storm was on its way.

I tried to call my boyfriend on my cell phone on my way home. No service. Too many people calling each other.

When I got home, my boyfriend was of course asleep, being a 2nd shifter, and oblivious to the world events being broadcast on national television.

“Hey Honey. They let me out of work early because two airplanes hit the World Trade Center. Did you know that was in New York City? We have time before you go to work to go to Toledo. Let’s go to the pet store and pick me out a hamster. Wake up, let’s go.”

He looked at me bewildered and turned on the TV. He continued to watch television until he went to work. I didn’t get to go pick out my hamster until Saturday:(

This post may make it sound like I didn’t care about the September 11th attacks. I watched the television obsessively just like everyone else. After about two weeks of coverage, I got sort of depressed, like everyone else. Like everyone else, I moved on.

Live everyone else, when the eastern part of the country had a giant blackout in August of 2003, I assumed it was terrorist activity. It was not. But it did inconvenience us and our guests a little for our wedding rehearsal.

Bunke Lynn Elizabeth


I did get a hamster. She was orange and I named her Bunke. Did you know Golden Hamsters have a gestation period of 16 days? 14 days after I got my hamster, she had 8 babies. Just so you know, if I had gotten her on 9/11, I wouldn’t have had to find homes for 8 hamsters. (Becoming a grandmother can be really stressful.)

And there you have it. What I remember from the September 11, 2001 attacks. Remember, this blog is about my mildly entertaining random thoughts. If you want a history lesson, you will have to visit Wikipedia.

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What I Learned This Week – 9/9/12

I learned this week that the power of positive thinking does in fact manifest great things.

My fellow blogger LazyHippieMama this week manifested herself a trip to Disney World. She simply asked clearly for what she wanted and ye shall receive!

This week I stumbled and bumbled and begged the universe for my son’s urologist to give us a good report. It wasn’t a glowing report. But he also didn’t say anything was wrong either. (Which, as a mother, leaves me a little in limbo.) He said the portable ultrasound my son had a month ago was good enough to see that his kidney was still large (bad), but not dilated (good), and that it could take several years for it to return to a more normal size (as it has been enlarged since the womb). He said we should come back in November for a regular ultrasound, just to keep an eye on things.

My son at the McDonald’s Play Place, about an hour after the doctor gave us a good review.


This week I also became the proud owner of a new modem, then in turn, a new router. But, maybe this was manifested too. After all, I never doubted that we would have Internet back soon. OK, so I didn’t doubt…much.

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Museum of Spam?

Behold, The Spam Museum!


In 2004, my husband and I were trying to buy our house. (Yes, as you may guess, it is now valued well below what we paid for it.) The sellers had accepted our offer and we were waiting to hear on a closing date. We were already approved for our mortgage. So what is a couple to do? Take a trip out West for a week!

It was the most ambitious trip we have taken to date. We left Michigan by car ferry into Wisconsin. We toured a submarine. We played at Lake Winnebago (Maybe I will write another post on that someday). We camped every other night in our Pontiac Aztek (with optional tent) and stayed in hotels the rest. We panned for gold. We saw the Badlands. We saw the world’s largest prairie dog. We went all the way to Mt. Rushmore. While Mt. Rushmore was awesome, that is not what we remember most from that trip. We remember the fun we had at the Spam Museum.

The Spam Museum is located in Austin, Minnesota. (I always have to think Austin, Texas to remember the name of the town.) We heard about it because my husband saw a brochure at a freeway welcome center. He insisted that we needed to go. I was very reluctant, as I usually am (sometimes unfairly) of his suggestions. I think he probably purposely steered our route through the town of Austin just so we could go there. And we had a flippin’ blast.

The Hormel factory (makers of Spam) is in Austin. The Spam Museum is next door. Now, I was there 8 years ago. So, if you travel there upon my recommendation, please realize some of my information could be dated.

Spam Museum parking lot


The parking lot spaces were all painted with the Spam logo. A giant metal statue of a farmer and a pair of pigs stood outside the front door. We walked in not knowing what to expect.

Spammy, the Spam Mascot


We were first welcomed by a statue of the Spam mascot, Spammy. He invited us to take a picture with him. There was also a giant floor-to-ceiling wall of Spam. There was a short movie that plays about the history of Spam. There were audio clips and memorabilia from pop culture and historical (war) references to Spam as well. There was a hands-on area that was quite fun. You could dress up like a worker at the Spam factory. You could see how fast you could can Spam (not real Spam, but a Spam-colored bean bag). My husband and I ran around and laughed our heads off.

Can you spot the “fake” Spam worker?


They have a huge gift shop at the museum where you can buy almost anything you can imagine, embelized with the Spam logo. We bought a T-shirt, and of course, some Spam. We ate it that night for dinner while we camped at Lake Mitchell (home of the Corn Palace). It totally cured my usual issue of vacation constipation.

Su-eeey!


We have never forgotten the Spam Museum. We are not real big Spam eaters. My husband will have it occasionally. I mostly love the kitsch factor of it. My husband outgrew the original Spam shirt, so I ordered him a new one from the Spam website (and a pair of sweatpants) for Christmas one year. He handed down the original shirt to me, which, being 8 years old, has now been sewn up about 10 times. Last year, I bought my son his very own Spam shirt for Christmas. We usually do not wear them all at the same time, but someday I would like to get a family picture taken that way. It would be wonderfully cheesy. And maybe we would end up on Ellen or something. Maybe that could be our Christmas card this year. People might think we are weird. But those who know us well already know we are weird.

Our collection of family Spam shirts


A few years ago, we went to a friend’s wedding in Minneapolis. We were right near the Spam Museum and hoping for a return visit. But we were on a tight schedule and the timing just wasn’t right. Man, just writing this, I yearn for another long, leisurely vacation like that one we took out West. We really had no plan when we began, but it turned out nicely. It would probably be a very different experience taking the little one along.

Cute lil’ Spam boy!


So, if you find yourself in Southern Minnesota, for a good time look up the Spam Museum:)

The Spam Museum
1101 N Main St
Austin MN 55912
800-LUV-SPAM

The End


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So Eager


Do all first time parents feel the need to give their child every experience right away? Or are my husband and I just like that because our son had medical issues?

My husband and I bought my son, M, a shiny, new, red Radio Flyer tricycle…when he was just two months old. And, of course, my husband assembled it right away. My son is now 21 months old. We recently brought the tricycle down from the attic. He enjoys sitting on it and pushing it around, but he doesn’t have the hang of pedaling yet. Yes, we realize we are a little crazy.

But this doesn’t stop at tricycles. My son sat on Santa’s lap when he was just 15 days old. In his first year, M attended his first hockey game and his first baseball game. He was so young for the baseball game that the crowd’s cheering bothered him. He seemed kind of oblivious to the hockey game. M rode a carousel–twice.

At the animatronic dino souvenir store (check out the AWESOME T-shirt)


By the time M turned 18 months, he had had two rides on a real full-size train. He also had been on his first vacation, to a family event in North Carolina. Not yet two, he has now also racked up his first penny pony ride at Meijer, and seen life-size animatronic dinosaurs. M has ridden a Ferris Wheel. He has seen a full-size Thomas the tank engine, racking up yet another real train ride. He must just think that kids get to ride trains all the time. I think I was in middle school before I ever got to ride on a full-size train. There are probably some people who go their whole lives never riding one. (I like trains, can you tell? Random Fact: Also, lighthouses.)

To top it all off, M has already had his first flight. And not on a commercial airline or for vacation. We had an opportunity at a local festival to go up in a four seater Cessna and fly over our own house. M wasn’t scared at all. In fact, he fell asleep. (In case anyone cares, I got a little nauseous.)

I just wonder if this is normal behavior for parents. My asbestos fiend has a boy six months younger than M. She doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to have him participate in life events before he is old enough to appreciate them, as we do. But then again, this is her second child. I don’t know how she felt with her first child. My asbestos friend lived clear across the country when her first was born.

Are we so eager because we are first time parents? Or is it because my son was born with an issue with his urinary system that required surgery at 6 months of age? Surgery that had complications. I know I really felt the rush to “hurry up” and “make experiences” with M while he was laying in the Pediatric ICU. My husband wanted to get a family portrait done as soon as M was born. I put him off and told him we would do it for Christmas, for our Christmas cards. Sitting in the hospital with my son, all I could think was that if he died before we got a family picture taken, my husband would never forgive me.

We got the picture taken on my son’s first birthday.

On television shows and in movies, the new mother always gazes down lovingly at her newborn child. I was not that mother. I found that I could not even let my heart fully love my son til he was almost a year old. It was a mechanism I used to guard myself, in case he should die from his medical issues or from the complications a surgery could bring. (Morbid, I know. And it hurts my heart to write it now. And it hurt my heart to live all this.)

M has a follow-up appointment on Wednesday. It makes my chest tight just to think about it. Our last appointment brought good news. I don’t know how to ask the universe or pray to God or beg and plead for more good news. I can’t handle a nephro tube or surgery again. I can’t. And my boy wants to put that all behind him and play with his Cozy Coupe and Thomas Wooden Railway (“toot-toot” he says). Please, everyone put in a good thought for him. And I will in return wish that you all get a moment to yourself to enjoy an ice cream.

What will be the next life experience we rush my son into before he turns three? Run for President of the United States? Trip to the moon?

You guys are wearin’ my ass out.


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Potty Training – The Saga Begins

My son, M, is now 21 months old. I have started to try to potty train him. So far, I have been highly unsuccessful.

He has his own little potty. He loves to take it apart (no surprise, see post Like Father, Like Son). I tried making him stay seated on it while I read him stories. I found when he got up off the potty is when he would actually pee-pee. In the corner, or next to the potty. Anywhere but in the potty.

Now M doesn’t want to sit on it. He wants to wander around the bathroom with no diaper on or sit on my lap (must be more comfy than the potty). While his baby butt is adorable, we really aren’t getting any closer to getting this done.

I have a theory. And since this is my first child and I have only potty-trained (i.e. housebroken) my Lab-Chow mix Dave, it really is just a random theory. I believe that to potty train a kid, they have to be old enough to understand what you are trying to accomplish. But I also believe you have to train them before they are old enough to decide not to do what you are asking of them, just to spite you. From the stories my mom tells, she makes it sound like I was the latter.

Plus, everyone says it is easier to potty train when you are at home to devote time to it. I am definitely at home with time right now. And fearing my unemployment will run out at the end of the year, I need to get him trained before I have to return to work. And I could wait longer to go to work if I didn’t have to spend money on diapers.

I feel like if I could get over this child development hurdle, it would be smooth sailing from here on out. Because I am a first time parent and I am just that naive. I haven’t gotten within spitting distance of the terrible twos or terrible threes yet. But the two things that worried me most before I ever got pregnant were changing diapers and potty-training. Hmmm. I sense a theme here.

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