Pre-flight prep

My alarm went off at 5:30 this morning. I climbed over the two boys sleeping between the clock and me to hit the snooze.

5:39am. I crawled over the still-sleeping kids, hit the snooze again.

5:48am. I got out of the bed and walked around to turn off the alarm and enied myself any thoughts of the flight that the morning would hold. I hopped in the shower and shaved my legs. I didn’t want any hair standing on end before I even got to the Gary Jet Center. Once out of the shower, I wondered, “Hmmm…what does one wear when going 3Gs?”

By this point, Robbie had woken up. From the bathroom, he called to me. “Mom, so how do you feel about going in an airplane that will be upside down?”

“Oh, I’m excited,” I said. And I was. But I was also trying not to think about it at all.

“You might get sick,” Robbie offered.

“I hope not.”

“Mom, I will get you a trash can if you do throw up.” It’s this kind of sweetness that has saved his life on more than one occasion.

Just as I was putting on a pair of khaki shorts and my favorite white shirt, Annie yelled from her bedroom, “Don’t wear white!”

“Why not?”

“Because if you throw up, it will ruin the shirt!”

“Great,” I thought as I searched for a more puke-proof shirt, digging through the pile of clean clothes on my bedroom floor that haven’t quite made it into the drawer yet.

Suitably dressed in a cranberry-colored t-shirt and black shorts, I went downstairs to eat breakfast.

“Mom, just think,” said Charlie while he was waiting on his peanut butter toast, “you’re going to be up in a little airplane and they are going to flip you over. You are SO going to get sick!”

That’s when I had to lay down the first rule of the morning. Nobody was allowed to say anything about anything that might go wrong on my flight. I didn’t want to hear any more about throwing up or rolling over or peeing my pants. Happily, everyone obliged my request.

The drive to Gary went pretty quickly. We stopped for a little caffeine, though I was so conscious of keeping my stomach relatively empty that I only drank about ¼ of my morning-ritual Diet Coke. Before I knew it, we were driving through Gary. Past the urban baseball stadium where the Gary Rail Cats play. Past the courthouse. And directly to the Gary Jet Center where 12 stunt planes sat innocently parked on the tarmac, just down from a half-dozen U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds jets.

Since we’d driven two and a half hours to get there, I guessed there was no backing out of this flight now. Stay tuned…

Fragging with the lights on

Hey folks! This week's Friday Fragments is being put together from my bed at 11:10pm, where I am laying (lying? I can never keep it straight) with the lights on. Not because I want them on, but because I am sharing the bed with two boys who are both afraid. Charlie heard an Amber Alert* on the radio and that "freaked me out a lot, Mom." Robbie watched a cartoon of Batman vs. Dracula and is now convinced that we can't turn the lights off or a vampire will come get us. I would go sleep in one of their rooms, but every time I get off the bed, one of them wakes up and asks in a near panic where I am going. (*The kid has been found safe and sound.)

First off, I can't thank Mrs. 4444s enough for giving me the "Favorite Friday Fragmenter" for last week. Being a people-pleasing first-born, getting this little button was like winning (a small) lottery:

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In less than 12 hours, my feet should be back on the ground following my flight in a T6 Texan WW II airplane. I hope my stomach follows my feet. I'm really not nervous...yet. I plan to eat something very light 3-4 hours before the flight; keep a picture of my family in one pocket and my rosary beads in another; and warn the pilot that under extreme speed and the influence of aerial acrobatics, I cannot be held responsible for what escapes my mouth -- in the form of colorful language or other, er, stuff.

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In "Mother-of-the-Year" award news, Charlie is supposed to be having a birthday party on Sunday. Guess who forgot to send invitations? I'll be lighting up the e-mails tonight. Please don't tell Miss Manners (or Charlie).

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I've mentioned before that I love Sara's whimsical style. Today on her blog, she posted a picture of a yummy looking watermelon cake. I was totally with her -- until she gave the recipe and revealed that the frosting is made with Cool Whip. I don't do whipped cream icing. Buttercream or bust, baby! Guess it's a good thing she didn't invite me to have any. I would hate to be rude and decline.

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Robbie asked me today how many more days until school starts. (He's so excited to be in the 1st grade.) I counted -- 43 days. I don't know whether to cheer or cry.

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I took the kids to the pool this week. I don't know if it's because it was 4th of July week and everyone is on vacation or if it was just too hot for sane people to be outside, but there was hardly anyone there. We had so much fun -- I even went on the water slides! (Guess I'm getting daring as I push 40.) Imagine my surprise when Nancy at Away We Go captured exactly how I felt about the time at the pool with my kids.

Have a great weekend! Check back here for all the details of my Amelia Earhart impersonation. Or click on over to my Facebook page for an up-to-the-minute account of the adventure. My friends made me promise not to Facebook from the plane. I said ok...mostly because I'm not sure I can get internet access from up there.

What would you do for $5

The other day I was looking for information on buying a netbook, so I went to my favorite tech-head, Mr. Noobie. After I found the netbook stuff I was after, I clicked a few links on the Noobie website and found myself at Fiverr.com.

Basically, Fiverr.com is a service exchange website. People post what they'll do for $5. Other people come along and buy the service. The Fiverr people keep $1 and $4 goes to the seller.

So what will people do for $5?

• Give insider travel advice for San Francisco (offered by a local)
• Fire someone over the phone
• Fix your Wordpress blog issue
• Photoshop a picture
• Answer one psychic question
• Secret shop customer service employees (via phone)
• Design a t-shirt
• Give an honest review of your music
  

Some of the offers are things that I would definitely pass on. Like "I will build a business plan for you for $5." With a $5 business plan in hand, I would hope you have a Plan B. Same goes for the design of a $5 corporate logo. There are plenty of offers for linking to your blog or getting you Twitter followers, but those are things I wouldn't do. I think those are things you should earn.

For those desperate enough, there are offers such as "I will pray for you every night for one month for $5" and "I will marry you and love you for $5." (Ladies, he's 29 and living in Israel, if you're interested.)

There were a few things that I might be tempted to spend $5 on -- if I money to burn, which I don't. They include:

• I will sing "Happy Birthday" to anyone of your choice and put the video on YouTube. (What better gift for the person who has everything?)
• I will interpret your dream.
• I will change my Facebook status to say anything.

Then I got to thinking about what I could offer. Here's what I came up with:

• I will write your family Christmas letter for $5.
• I will give you a list of 5 gift ideas for a hard-to-shop-for person for $5.
• I will make you a funky yarn scarf (no knitting or crocheting involved) for $5.
• I will name your dog or cat for $5 (I might charge $10 or $15 to name a kid).
• I will create a custom word cloud for $5.
• I make three magnetic bookmarks for $5.
  

It was really hard to come up with what I would do for $5-- and I don't have any intention of posting any of the services on the site.

How about you? What would you do for $5?

Up in flames, but not down on their luck

A little over two weeks ago, on June 22, we had the mother of all electrical storms here. It was the thunder that woke me up at about 3am. But it was the lightning that kept me awake -- I felt like I had to stay on alert in case lightning struck the house. (So, I tend to lean toward the dramatic and the anxious.)

Because I was awake, I was on Facebook. I wasn't alone; there were several storm watchers on Facebook with me. Still, I was shocked when I got an update from the Facebook page of my hair salon at 4am that said:

It's with a heavy heart I have to tell you lightening struck, spreading through out the entire building, taking Allure with it. Don't worry we have a plan. We have a salon to work out of until Allure is back on it's feet. I do need you to help with reloading your appointments, please email me your appointments. We will be closed Tues 6/22 to work on details. We will contact you with all the details ASAP Melissa :)

What?! I flipped to the 4:30am newscast (who watches the news at 4:30am?) and sure enough, my hair salon had gone up in flames. But it wasn't just the salon that was gone. Lightning struck the El Rodeo restaurant that's saved me from cooking dinner on numerous occasions and ignited a fire that wiped out the entire strip. (For some unbelievable pictures of the blaze, click here.)

Besides our Mexican restaurant and my hair salon, also gone were the dry cleaner where Mike takes his clothes, the nail salon that I go to as an occasional treat, the UPS store that has my Georgia niece and nephew's address stored in their computer, our Hallmark store, our Subway and a few other stores.

I was still wrapping my brain around my disbelief when I received an e-mail from the salon owner at 5:10 am -- less than 4 hours after the crazy fire had started:

Early Tuesday morning lightening struck El Rodeo and fire spread through the entire plaza, taking Allure with it. Don't worry we have a recovery plan. We have a salon we are going to work at until we are back on our feet. We do need your help with reloading your appointments. Please email me a list of all your appointments so we can get back on track. We will not be working today Tues June 22, to get things in order. If you have an appointment today please email me so I can reschedule you for this week. YES THIS WEEK! Although this is a horrible event we will NOT let this get the best of us. We will update you with our temporary location as soon as we work all the details out this today. Please pass this on to anyone you know that visits Allure, in case we don't have their email.

The kids and I drove to the scene later that morning. Yellow police tape marked off the area and firefighters were still on their ladders, putting out hot spots. The crowd gathered was a mix of rubberneckers (including me) and owners/employees of the businesses that had been busy just the day before.

Photo taken by WTHR-Channel 13

But true to Melissa's pledge, Allure Salon carried on. By Thursday of that week -- just two days after the fire -- they were serving clients in borrowed space at another salon. And today, an incredible two weeks later, Allure opened its temporary digs on Main Street in Zionsville.

I just so happened to have an appointment scheduled for today and was curious to see what the new shop would look like.

As I imagined, the amazingly relaxing, dark-as-night shampoo room from the old shop had not been replicated in the new place (yet -- Melissa said she's got some ideas about that). But other than product shelves that were still being filled and paper signs announcing the presence of the shop on the front window, the rest of the salon did not give any indication that it had been thrown together in just two weeks. Ok, no traditional salon chairs and I missed the blow dryers suspended from the ceiling. Still...

More remarkable than the fact that they were re-opened two weeks after the salon burned down was how upbeat and positive the entire staff was. Shana, who cut my hair in the wake of my stylist leaving suddenly last week, said everyone pitched in and worked long hours to clean, paint and outfit the new space.

There was a bit of an air of urgency as Melissa was trying to track down a truck carrying furniture and other equipment. There was a little fumbling with paper appointment books -- the computers will be back up by next week. But there was still the amazing head massage. The offer of a beverage when I arrived. It was still a treat for me to let the gals at Allure whisk me away from my day for an hour or so.

Adventures of a G-list celebrity

Today was the annual Carmelfest 4th of July parade, or "prade" if you ask Charlie:

As one last vestige of the "celebrity" status bestowed on me by my participation in the Go Red Better U Challenge, I was invited to ride the St. Vincent Heart Center float in the parade. I really hadn't planned to do it because I weigh about 10 pounds more than my self-inflicted goal I'd set when the invite was first issued last March. But when Pam Irick from the Heart Center tracked me down via Facebook yesterday, I figured what the heck and told her I'd be there.

Before the parade started, all of the people representing St. Vincent in the parade were given red t-shirts. Co-challenger Kimila Brown and I went into Hobby Lobby to change clothes. That's where we ran into St. Vincent social worker Teresa who had just finished doctoring her over-sized shirt. She happily took a pair of scissors to our shirts as well, making them a little better fitting and a lot more airy.

Soon, it was time to load up and roll out.

This was the view from the beginning of the route:

As we pulled past my family, Annie and Charlie were waving madly. Mike was snapping pictures. Robbie, upon seeing me standing on the first float in the parade, shouted "Hey Mom, look up there! See that airplane?!" Perhaps G-list celebrity is thinking a bit too highly of myself.

To be honest, I felt pretty silly up on that float waving at people I mostly didn't know. I was glad for the St. Vincent volunteers walking alongside us who were handing out tchotchkes because all the kids were clapping and cheering for the free stuff, but at least I could pretend they were cheering for us float-riders. Of course, even the foldable frisbees they were flinging couldn't compete with the real object of the kiddies' desires: candy!

After about 10 or 15 minutes into the route, we picked up a straggler (no need to alert the authorities, her parents were walking with the St. V crew):

There were several bigger kids who were real troopers who walked (or rolled) the entire 1.6 mile route:

Those people with the tents (check out the rollerblade picture again) really know how to watch a parade. In addition to self-made shade, they had quite a spread. If I'd been a little gutsier, I might have hollered for them to give me something to drink.

The parade was a lot of fun. We haven't been for several years, but there bands and fire engines, fancy cars carrying politicians and political hopefuls, veterans groups and of course, clowns.

We invited one dripping-with-sweat clown to hop aboard the pick-up pulling our float because, quite honestly, I was afraid we were gonna have to put that "best heart care in Indiana" slogan to the test if we didn't give him a lift. I wish we'd had him with us from the beginning. He really got the crowd going!

Before I knew it, we were at the end of the parade route. That's when I realized I wasn't sure how I was going to get back to my car. I was resigned to walking when a very nice group of church goers offered us a ride on their deluxe, multi-row golf cart.

For the first few minutes, I found myself waving to cars and people on the sidewalk, obviously still in "parade mode." But when we pulled out onto Rangeline Road, alongside real cars going real fast (at least compared to the putt-putt speed of our transport), I stopped waving and held on for dear life. Have you ever ridden a golf cart down a main thoroughfare? I think flying in a WWII stunt plane would be safer!

And that was pretty much the end of my "celebrity" adventure. I'm sure there were plenty of people scratching their heads, wondering who that not-so-fit lady was on the Heart Center float. And there were a lot of kids wishing we had candy for them. But at the very least, I got a chance to scope out where I want to sit to watch the parade next year.

Did you have a Buzz or a Woody?

I saw Toy Story 3 this morning. I went by myself while rest of my family (who'd already seen TS3) went to see The Last Airbender, which I had no interest in seeing. I was warned in advance to bring tissues. I didn't. And I didn't need them. It's not that I didn't find the ending touching. I did, just not tearfully so. But the movie did make me think about the toys from my childhood.

Unless I just have a really bad memory, I can't think of any toys that I was really attached to. I had a very soft, stuffed koala bear that I remember because my dog chewed off one of the legs. I don't remember the bear before its leg was chewed off. I don't recall the day or the circumstances surrounding the canine attack. I just remember the rough edges of what was left behind, the peachy-orange of stuffing poking out.

We had blocks that were stored in a white cotton sack with a drawstring. I really liked the blocks, but they weren't the kind of toy that you would take to bed with you.

I did have a Barbie phase that I do remember fondly. We lived in Richmond, Indiana. My friend Paige lived across the street and we played Barbies at her house quite often. It seems that Paige's parents were always decorating something in the house, so we would take scraps of carpet and wallpaper and make our own Barbie houses out of cardboard boxes. It seems that we played Barbies in her basement for a long time, every day, listening to the "Free to Be You and Me" album on the record player.

But for as much as I remember enjoying the Barbies, I don't think I ever tucked them in with me at night, took them to church or propped them up at the dinner table next to me. And when we moved from Indiana to Ohio when I was nine, my Barbies mysteriously disappeared. I never saw them again and, oddly, I wasn't upset.

My kids are the same way. We've never had to drive back to some hotel or even a friend's house to retrieve a well-loved doll or stuff animal left behind. Annie had a Bitty Baby, but she wasn't particularly attached. When Charlie was 2, he asked Santa for a Nutcracker and a doll baby. Santa delivered a Beanie Baby Kid dressed in a soccer uniform (a compromise between Mr. and Mrs. Claus). He was happy to have him on Christmas morning, but forgot about him soon after. Robbie has come the closest to having an Andy-like relationship with a toy. When he was a toddler and preschooler, he had Eddie, a Fisher Price little people doll, that he would sleep with and take for nap time at Mother's Day Out. But once Robbie discovered dinosaurs, Eddie lost his appeal. Eddie is still around, as is Bitty Baby and "Charlie," but mostly because they remind me of when my kids were little. I think I am more connected to my children's toys than I ever was to my own or they were attached to them.

I know some kids do have ties to their toys. Annie's friend Olivia had a pink bear named, of all things, Pinka, that went everywhere with her. But for some reason, that's just never been true for me or my children. Maybe that's why I didn't get teary at the end of Toy Story 3. Or maybe I just haven't met the right toy yet.

Did you have a Buzz or Woody or some kind of toy that you were attached to? Do you still have it?

Facing the fat

Today was the day that I decided to face the fat. I hadn't been to Weight Watchers since May 19. Of course I kept paying for the membership, thinking that I was going to go "this week," "next Tuesday," "after work." I knew that my weight was up. That was easy to tell by the way my clothes were fitting and by the few times I was brave enough to step, ever so briefly, on my bathroom scale.

But I need the accountability of weighing in to someone else. Standing on my own bathroom scale, I can rationalize that my weight must be affected by the time of day, the amount of clothes I'm wearing, the imprecise nature of the Target-bought scale. The official Weight Watchers scale, though, I never argue with. It is what it is and I take it seriously. So I knew to get myself back on track, I had to go submit to the scale.

If you've ever been on a weight loss program where you have to go in and weigh in front of someone else, you know that it's not a simple as getting in the car and getting on the scale. First there is the pre-grooming.

I took a shower and made sure to shave my legs, you know, because all that hairy stubble might weigh a quarter of an ounce or so. When I got out of the shower, I took extra time to dry my hair, lest any water left in my tresses should add weight to the scale. Wearing glasses and jewelry, is of course, totally out of the question. Do you know how heavy a pair of earrings can be? (I do make an exception for my wedding ring. But if I had a 3 carat rock, it would totally be left behind before the weigh-in.)

Once all the grooming is done, then it's time to get dressed. Generally, my rule of thumb is "as little and as light" as possible. But today, I had to think about that. If I wore something a bit heavier, maybe jean shorts, then I could more likely post an impressive loss next week by wearing cotton shorts and a t-shirt. That could be pretty motivating. However, if I did that, I would rationalize whatever gain I might show today, blaming it all on the clothes. So I opted for a pair of knit shorts and a cotton t-shirt.

No need for breakfast because every person whose ever been on a diet...excuse me, a "lifestyle change," knows one of the cardinal rules of weigh-ins is that you don't eat or drink anything before you step on the scale. One last trip to the bathroom (weigh-ins call for the emptiest bladder possible), and I was out the door.

On the drive over to the meeting, I mulled over all of the excuses I might offer for what I anticipated to be a 9 or 10-pound gain. We were on vacation (so what if it was just 24 hours in Southern Indiana). The kids are home and there's more food in the house. My routine is broken so there is no time to get to the gym (never mind the fact that Denzel is collecting cobwebs in my basement).

The nice lady behind the desk didn't ask for any excuses and I saved her from having to tell me I gained by forewarning her that I was anticipating a sharp increase. She smiled and handed me my weigh-in booklet. I didn't let myself look at it until I was sitting in the classroom, waiting for the meeting to start.

Up 6.6 pounds. Now all you skinny-never-had-a-weight-problem people out there are probably gasping. But those of you who've been where I am likely understand when I say I was actually pleased that I only gained 6.6 pounds. Not that I want to keep up the trend of gaining 1.1 pounds a week (the exact opposite would be great), but I was expecting worse.

I faced the fat and survived. I can move ahead with renewed determination...right after I get something to eat. I didn't eat breakfast and I'm starving.