11-year-old boy on life

Today, Charlie turned 11. As his mother, I thought it would be good to know what he thinks about a variety of topics. His answers, unedited, are below:

Girls: Nice and sweet and stuff.

Money: Use it only for good reasons, like to buy video games.

Basketball: You should pass a lot so other people will pass to you.

Football: You have to make the right plays to make it to the right place.

Favorite color: Butler blue.

Favorite food: Lasagna and pizza.

Favorite day of the week: Wednesday, because it's gym day in school.

Favorite book: I'm not a big fan of books.

Favorite movie: Iron Man 2 (Note from the mom: I sure hope that's age appropriate. If not, blame the dad.)

Least hated chore: Unloading the dishwasher, because it's fast.

Most hated chore: Everything else.

United States: We are awesome.

President Obama: He is awesome and I want to invite him to my birthday party. (For the record, he invited Dubya to his birthday party a few years ago.)

God: I love Him and He gave us all this (motioning to the space around him).

The oil spill in the Gulf: Sad, sad, sad.

School: Boring and stupid, except for the fun parts.

If you had a whole day to do whatever you wanted, what would you do: Play video games, play sports and boss Robbie around...no...I would have Robbie help me boss Annie around.

If you were in charge of making dinner, what would you make: I would order pizza.

If you had to give up one thing for the rest of your life, except school or chores, what would it be: SKIP! I'm not giving up anything.

If you were going to write a book, what would it be about: ME! and video games.

What do you want to be when you grow up: A sports player, then maybe an announcer when I retire.

If you could change your life in anyway, what would you do: Get a girlfriend.

That's where the line of questioning stopped because a.) I had to catch my breath after that last answer and b.) I had to launch my "you're too young for a girlfriend and you should just be yourself and be friends with girls" speech.

This one, yeah, he's gonna keep life interesting.

Office bathroom ettiquette

On the floor of the building where I work, there are two women's restrooms, two men's restrooms and two unisex/handicapped bathrooms. Each of the women'srestrooms have two stalls. I can't speak for the men's restrooms because I've never been in there, though now I'm a little curious...

Anyway, I was in the ladies' room closest to my office, when I heard someone else come in. I knew by the gait and by the shoes it was one of my co-workers. (I won't say who because I do have to work with these people.) As I was washing my hands, she stood behind me, waiting for access to the lone sink and said in a silly voice, "I broke one of the bathroom rules!"

"What bathroom rule is that," I asked.

"I came in here when someone else was in here."

"That's not a rule," I told her. "That's just a courtesy."

To be clear, there are no posted bathroom rules, though I think it might be a good idea. But after working in the same office for nearly five years, I've noticed the evolution of certain practices that could be included in a short set of "office bathroom etiquette" rules, or guidelines if you prefer to be softer about it. They would look something like this:

Office Bathroom Etiquette

1. If you happen to be headed to the bathroom at the same time as someone else, remember the boss gets the stall closest to the sink. The business manager prefers the one furthest from the sink.
2. The above should not really be an issue because if you are headed to the bathroom at the same time as someone else, it is courteous to go find another bathroom. That way you don't have to listen to each other pee.
3. If you have to go #2, please choose one of the single-seater unisex bathrooms. That way no one has to listen to your, um, activity. And you avoid offending anyone's olfactory senses.

At least one person in my office would take issue with #3, saying that it's ok to go #2 in the community bathroom if it's not going to be "grody" (her word, not mine). My contention is that you don't know if it's going to be grody until it's too late and isn't all poop grody by default?

I'd be all for a posted sign instructing people to avoid emptying their bowels in the community bathroom if at all possible. Or perhaps a more subtle approach would be to just put a picture of Winnie the Pooh on the doors to the unisex bathrooms, indicating that it is an acceptable "poo" room.

Anyway, back to the etiquette...I'm undecided about the acceptability of talking while peeing. If being in the bathroom at the same time as someone else is unavoidable (refer back to etiquette rule 2), should you quietly and quickly go about your business? Or should you initiate conversation so as to drown out the sound of pee? I suppose it depends on whether or not you know the person in the next stall over.

And of course, it should go without saying that one of the cardinal rules of bathroom etiquette is washing your hands afterwards, singing the ABCs twice for good infection control.

Have I forgotten anything? Is there anything else you would add?

For more office antics, try this fun game.

One of these things is not like the others

...one of these things just doesn't belong:

Can you guess which one it is? #3, you say? Yes. That's what I thought, too.

Then would someone please tell me why I am considering going up in one of these planes? Other than the fact that I must have a death wish. Or at minimum a barf wish.

This is another invite courtesy of my Visit Indiana gig. The Gary Air Show will take place in the northwest corner of the state on July 9, 10 and 11th and they are inviting members of the media to do plane-side interviews with the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds. Then "each reporter or photographer is paired with an experienced air show pilot and gets a 'quick' version of what it is like to fly in a show. There are aerial maneuvers and the teams fly in formation for each scheduled flight."

As some of you may remember, I'm slightly afraid of heights. So why in heaven's name am I seriously contemplating taking this flight?

Maybe it's because I know it's probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Maybe it's because I think it would be a good alternative to dying my hair blue. Maybe it's because I can already imagine what an awesome story it will be to tell here.

For whatever reason, I sent the PR gal a note and said "I'm definitely interested in the opportunity. Can you tell me how wild and crazy these aerial maneuvers are?"

Her response:

First, I have to make sure that you are able to fly with the performers – so I must ask, are you pregnant? Are you in good health? No severe medical conditions we need to know about? And finally, are you able to fit in a commercial airline seat comfortably (size/weight requirements)?

The day of the flight, be sure to eat light (or not at all) and drink plenty of water. It’s usually pretty hot the day of the flight and the cockpit gets pretty heated…safety of the pilot and the passenger is always my #1 priority. The pilots are all VERY experienced and will answer all the questions you have. They are fantastic to work with and even better if you are flying with them. It’s a great experience. If you like rides, this is one NOT to pass up. The maneuvers are different for each flight, but you do go upside-down and turns and fun things like that. I’ve never had anyone complain that it was boring or scary or a bad experience. Everyone walks away with a smile and completely exhilarated. Oh, and bring your camera – you’ll need to document your experience so you don’t forget!"

Annie read the "if you like rides part" and said, "Mom, you DON'T like rides." Which is true. When we go to Holiday World, the wildest coaster I ride is The Howler in Holidog's Fun Town (geared for ages 8 and under).

Even knowing what I now know about the experience; even though if you look up "lilly-livered coward" on Wikipedia you'll probably see a picture of me, I still think I want to do it. Am I out of my ever loving mind? Would you do it?

Friday Fragments: Link love

For today's Friday Fragments, I'm going to be dishing up some link love, starting with our hostess, Mrs. 4444s. This is her 100th fragging Friday!

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I told you I'd have more Segway stuff to share. Click this link for a video of my Segway training.

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While you're at YouTube, check out this hilarious spoof of Beyonce's "Single Ladies" video. Thumbs up to all the "Wrinkled Ladies!" If you're a 4th Frog Fan on Facebook, you might have already seen it.

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If you live in Central Indiana, please consider participating in the Annual Joseph Maley Run, Walk, Roll on Saturday, July 10 at Eagle Creek Park. Joseph was a very smiley young man born with severe disabilities who died at the age of 18 of leukemia. In his honor, his parents (two of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet) started a foundation to serve children of all abilities. And if you don't live in Central Indiana, feel free to make a donation anyway!

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One of the folks who was also invited on the tour of White River State Park was Cherie, better known as The Queen of Free. I felt more than a little guilty going to the mall and paying full price for a pair of long pants to wear on the hard hat tour of the J.W. Marriott, knowing that I'd be walking right along with a (very sweet) woman whose made a whole career out of penny pinching.

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What would you do if you saw a snake in your backyard? Would you chase it? NO! Would you try to catch it? NO! Would you kill it? NO -- I'd call my husband or some other burly man and make him do it. But Angie at In My Own Little Corner must have been a snake charmer in a former life. Check out this hilarious story.

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Thanks to everyone for your support regarding my "I Love Him..." entry earlier today. I was pretty hesitant to hit the "post" button. But I guess I believe that the only thing we gain by keeping our secrets hidden is loneliness.

Time to take Robbie to "occu-ation fair-apy" as he calls it. In the words of some big screen action here who I can't recall at the moment, "I'll be back!"

I love him, I love him not, I love him

I've been keeping a secret. It's not exactly a total secret because several people who know me in real life know it. And I've hinted at it here. But I've never come right out and said it. I wasn't keeping it to be deceptive. Mostly I hadn't said anything because I wasn't ready to fully put it out there and because I wasn't sure how I felt about it. However, now I have a better understanding of myself and the situation and I am ready to share.

Mike and I are separated. Again. We have been living apart for almost three months. I won't speak for him, but I was saddened and broken to be having two separate residences less than a year after we moved back under the same roof. This time around has been really difficult for me (not that the last time was any cakewalk). I've spent a lot of time thinking about what is best for our family, what is best for me, and ultimately, what I want.

I've done the sad thing. I've done the angry thing. And I've done the "I don't care anymore" thing; I think that's been the most scary of all. I've had plenty of confusion. I've imagined life as a single parent even as I've been living it. And I've had a few spots of clarity where I've thought that what I really want is to live in realistic happiness with my husband and our children, all together as it should be.

So about 10 days ago, when I received an invitation for me and a guest to spend two days experiencing White River State Park, I had to really think about who to invite. My first thought was to invite a girlfriend. Then I thought about inviting Mike. Honestly, I wasn't sure I wanted to include him in my fun. But ultimately, I decided that some time away (even if it was in our own downtown), without the pressure of work and to do lists and carpools to coordinate, might be good for us. Give us a chance to reconnect -- or, more accurately, to see if there was still any connection there at all.

It wasn't long after we arrived at the hotel that we were laughing. His sense of humor is what attracted me to him over 20 years ago. He jokingly told everyone else in the group that he was there as my personal assistant. At the first museum we visited, he climbed aboard a replica stagecoach. He's always been one to be in the middle of the fun.

When he returned to the hotel as we headed to our second venue, the NCAA Hall of Champions, I understood. I didn't find myself irritated or being short with him -- and I was surprised at my tolerance. He rejoined the group about 30 minutes later and we good-naturedly poked fun about each other's athletic abilities.

Later in the afternoon, as we prepared to board our Segways, he teased me about my previous missteps with exercise/recreation equipment and I was reminded that we have so much history together. He asked great questions of the project manager on our hard hat tour of a new hotel under construction and I remembered the early days of our marriage when he was an eager reporter.

I'd be lying if I said it was all sunshine and lollipops. He did make me nervous as he wandered away from the group in the "bone room" at the Indiana State Museum. I was sure he was going to touch something he shouldn't. He spent $5 at an "art-o-mat" machine and I rolled my eyes, wishing he wouldn't waste the money.

Mostly, over the course of the two days, we held hands, we smooched, we enjoyed being together. And that gives me hope.

I know that those two days were an idealistic setting. No dishes to do. No kids to tote. No bills to pay. I know that everyday, ordinary life comes with bumps and roadblocks and responsibilities that aren't nearly as fun as having fun. I know that the long-term survival of our marriage depends on plenty of hard work on both our parts. But I also know that there still is something there between us, a spark, a shared past, a bit of the love we felt when we were college sweethearts, and yes, even a future.

Let's roll...

The phrase "let's roll" takes on a whole new meaning when you're perched aboard a Segway. Yesterday and today, I'm playing tourist in my own town as a guest of the White River State Park Development Commission.

One of yesterday's highlights was the Segway ride around White River State Park in Indianapolis. I'll 'fess up to being a little nervous. I don't have a terrific track record when it comes to mechanical things you have to stand on.

There was the treadmill at my sister's gym when I was in college. I got a little bored with watching the television in front of me. Behind the treadmills were some great windows that looked out onto the street. So I decided to turn around and look out the windows, walking against the movement of the machine's belt. It took about 3.2 seconds for the treadmill to throw me off into a heap on the floor. I think my sister was mortified -- although she was laughing so hard that it was hard to immediately sense her embarrassment.

Then there was the Nordic Track in my parents' basement. I'd seen the infommercial on TV. It looked pretty easy, so I decided to give it a try. About 7.4 seconds after I climbed on, my feet slid all the way forward, my arms stretched out completely in front of me, and I was stuck (imagine a boomerang shape). I couldn't stand up and if I let go with my arms, I would fall on my arse. So I did the only thing I could -- started hollering like a mad woman for someone to come rescue me. Fortunately, Mike heard me and came to help, after he stood there for what seemed like way too long laughing at my predicament.

So my apprehension about riding the Segway was justified. Though nervous, I was also excited to have a chance to give it a try. When our group arrived, the Segways were all lined up waiting for us:

Mike offered a prediction that I would be the one to fall off, crash or in some other way embarrass myself (or him). I wasn't too sure that he was wrong.

Surprisingly, the Segway was easy to get the hang of. After the Segway master (I wonder if they've ever been called that before?) turns it on, you grab the handlebar with one hand, step up with the same foot, then grab the handle with the other hand and step up with the other foot. Moving forward is as easy as shifting your weight forward to the balls of your feet. Going in reverse happens by shifting back onto your heels.

It didn't take too long to figure it out, although I kept picturing myself as one of those large and lazy people hovering around on the spaceship in the movie Wall-E.

The tour was awesome! We Segwayed for probably 90 minutes, going all over White River State Park and along the beautiful canal. I was a little nervous going on the sidewalk over a bridge where lots of traffic was driving. One false move and my Seg and I would have been a mangle of flesh and metal. But not to worry, we made it over the bridge without incident.

Two people in our group did have a little trouble. The first lost control of his Segway on the other side of the bridge and it whipped around with a mind of its own for a second or two. The second fell off while we were stopped at the top of a hill. Fortunately, she was ok, and so was the Segway, even though it tumbled down the hill and ran into a tree.

Riding the Segway was tiring to my feet and back, something that our guide White River State Park Director Bob Witt said is less common as you get used to riding and more relaxed. I definitely want to try it again sometime. And at $45, while it's not something I'd do weekly, it's absolutely affordable for the occasional date night, out of town visitor or other occasion.

Once I get back home, I'll have more pictures and some video to share. I don't have the right cord to connect my camera to the computer. I would have taken more with my phone, but we were warned to not text and Seg.

Wheels

I'm happy to report that by last Friday we were once again a 2-car family. I didn't really have much of an opinion about what kind of car we bought, other than it had to be within our price range (read: cheap) and had to be able to at least get all 5 of us to church.

Mike, on the other hand, had some very definite ideas of what he would accept as a new-to-us car. First, he started looking at vintage Mercedes automobiles, which I quickly nixed. If either us knew a thing about fixing cars, I might have at least pretended to entertain the idea. But since we don't, I didn't.

Then he moved on to Mercedes and BMW wagons. "Nope. Too flashy," I protested.

When he started looking at Volvo wagons, I could live with that. Solid. Well-built. Safe. Classy but not ostentatious. A Volvo I could live with (and I have -- we've had two other Volvos in the almost 17 years we've been married).

We found 4 Volvo wagons we were willing to look at. One sold before we could get there. I test drove one that had low miles for its age, but was pretty beat up and only blew cool-ish air from the air conditioner. Not a good thing for a black with black interior car on a 90-degree day. The third was being sold by a dealer in another city that had an "F" rating from the Better Business Bureau. The fourth, however, was a good fit. It had a few more miles than I'd hoped for, but is in pristine condition and had obviously been babied:

So far, it's been a good car. We're taking a few days to get used to it before we give it a name.

Now, I'm not really in the practice of naming inanimate objects. (Well, other than my elliptical, Denzel.) But we started naming our cars when we owned two minivans. We couldn't tell the kids to "go get in the van," because there were two of them. So they were named "the fire truck" (the red van) and "the police car" (the silver van). When we sold the fire truck, we bought the Honda Pilot, which was quickly christened "the black speedy."

Now we have this navy blue Volvo wagon and it only seems fitting that she has a name, too. I've decided its a "she" because she has cargo space in the back and women do a fine job of carrying things inside them (i.e., babies, grudges, etc.).

One wouldn't think it would be too hard to come up with a name for a Volvo. After all, my children all have names that can be found in the "Volvo Names" section of the Beyond Jennifer and Jason baby names book. (For the record, according to the book, Volvo names are classic and never go out of style.)

The names that we've tossed around include Blue Betty, Madame Blueberry (a nod to the Veggie Tales) and a few others that I can't recall right now.

But I do remember, quite vividly, that Charlie was trying to play off the word Volvo and suggested that we name the car "Vulva." I tried very hard to keep a straight face as I explained that a vulva is the name for lady parts. So we quickly moved on to Vivian, which I'm actually fond of.

Maybe this weekend we'll take a family vote and name this little lady once and for all.