Kids Say the Darnedest Things!

A co-worker asked me if I've been writing down the funny things O and K say. I said, "No." And then I thought, I could certainly use this blog to keep track of their hilarity. So I'll start with a story about O from yesterday.

A friend of ours gave the kids some foam blocks and the movie Inside Out for Christmas. Yesterday morning, O asked, "Why did Sean give us that movie? Why didn't he give us a trumpet? Or a tuba?!"

I guess we need to work on gratitude...

Grandma Carlson

Last Thursday, March 11, would've been my Grandma Carlson's 97th birthday. That doesn't seem right, but I've double-checked my math, and it is, in fact, correct. It also doesn't seem possible that it's been over 5 years since she died. She had a massive stroke in the early morning hours of my 30th birthday, and she died 6 days later, surrounded by her husband and children. I was really missing her last week. I've made "cook 'n' serve" chocolate pudding a couple times over the past month. I reminds me of Grandma's chocolate cream pies. Yum! When I lived in Colorado, I'd often stop for an overnight with Grandma and Grandpa when I'd drive back to Wisconsin. More often than not, Grandma would have made one of her chocolate cream pies for my visit, knowing how much I liked them. That always made me feel so loved!

I had a job interview last week. It was for a half-time office assistant job in Fitchburg. I think it went well, at least from my end. They said they'll be making a decision sometime this week, so I won't have to wait too long to find out if I got it. If so, I'll be quitting the cleaning job (yippee!!) and possibly adjusting my schedule at Tweedee. I'll still have to wait tables a few nights a week, but it's a step in the right direction.

I heard back from the Department of Public Instruction about my application for Wisconsin teaching licensure. I need to take 6 credits (probably just 2 classes) of continuing education coursework in order to get my license, unless I have a job offer from a school district. If I get a job offer, they will grant me a one-year license, during which time I'll need to earn those 6 continuing education credits. I need to call them to find out what sort of classes I should take. Perhaps I could get one of those classes taken care of this summer.

Oh! And I ran the Shamrock Shuffle 5K yesterday. My time was 31:23, which I was happy with, for the most part. The route is fairly hilly, so I shouldn't be too disappointed, but I always want to finish in under 30 minutes. Maybe next year.

Forgotten Suitcase

Last Thursday, I rushed home from work so Einar and I could make the drive to the U.P. to visit my sister and her family. We had decided to make pb&j sandwiches to take with us for supper to eliminate a stop. I got home, finished putting a few things into the suitcase and went to the kitchen to make our sandwiches. Einar added a couple last minute things to the suitcase and then came and talked with me while I finished up the sammies. And we hit the road.

The drive was going along just fine - clear roads and an awake driver and passenger. After being on the road for 5 (of the 5 and 1/2) hours, Einar said that we didn't have the suitcase. I thought he was joking. No joke!!

I had assumed he had taken the suitcase out to the car and so hadn't asked about it. He had put his stuff in the suitcase and then left it, figuring I wasn't done yet.

Anyway, we ended up going to ShopKo to buy some underwear, socks, and toothbrushes, and Goodwill for a couple shirts. Kind of an adventure. And by Friday morning, it was even funny!

We managed to have a great weekend, even without all of stuff. We got to watch our nephew play basketball Friday night. That was fun, even though they ended up losing. My sister went for a 6.5 mile run with me on Saturday morning, and then we got to see all the amazing snow sculptures that were part of the Michigan Tech Winter Carnival. It's incredible what they are able to do with snow!

Give life.

Yesterday I tried to give blood. For the past several years, I've donated blood on a somewhat regular basis. And for the past year, I've been getting even better about it, marking my calendar for when I am eligible after donating.

I was supposed to give blood on Feb. 17, but my iron count was too low (it needs to be 12.5, and mine was 12.1). I was disappointed, but determined to add more iron-rich foods to my diet and try again. So, I went back 10 days later and tried again. I had the same problem: low iron. The nurse and I talked (again) about some strategies to get my iron higher, and I decided to wait 4 weeks before trying again.

Yesterday was the day. I've been eating more spinach, dried apricots, raisins, peas, and meat (mostly chicken). I was optimistic that my iron count would be high enough to make a donation. I had also been given the tip that if you shake your hands for a while before they do the finger prick, you'll get the blood flowing to the finger tips and have a better chance of the iron being okay. So, I walked over to the check-in area shaking my hands back and forth. Luckily, the first thing they do is check your iron. Mine was 12.6! Hooray!! I would be able to donate blood.

After going through the health history questionnaire, I went over to the blood collection area. I told them to use my right arm, as that's the one that's been used before. Daphne (the Red Cross employee) proceed to check my arm. She said that the veins in my right arm were quite small - a comment I've heard almost every time I've given blood. She asked if she could check the left. She checked it and had the same response but thought the right arm was better. She decided to call over a more experienced person. She checked my left arm, commenting on how small the veins were. Daphne agreed and told her to check the right arm. My right arm was examined and she noted that the veins were small there, too. They decided to call over the most veteran employee - a woman who has been an RN for 33 years. I thought, she'll be able to get it no problem. She checked both arms and decided to go with the right arm. As always, when the time came for the needle, I turned my head away and closed my eyes. I could feel her moving the needle around, taking it out, trying another spot. She asked, "Where did that vein go? I just felt it!" I was wiggling my feet, and I started to sweat. She finally gave up, telling me that I would have a nice bruise there. She got me an ice pack.

Would you like to try the other arm? I asked. I could hardly believe I was suggesting it. But, I was there, and I really wanted to give successfully this time. She tried the left. She got the needle into the vein, but said it was coming really slowly. I suggested she pull the needle out a tiny bit. She did, but that didn't help. Then she said that blood was leaking out of the site. Not good. We'd have to stop. And again, I'd have another nice bruise. And she got me another ice pack.

She thought that I might have better luck in the summer when the weather is warmer. We'll see. I also think donating after exercise would help.

My arms were quite sore last night, and I do have bruises. The left feels much worse than the right. Perhaps my body is telling me I'm not meant to donate blood anymore.

Pizza

Today, former Congressman Scott Klug has been in our office, working with our editor Steve on a project. I've met him before, and he's a really nice guy. He walked over to a nearby pizza place to get some lunch for Steve, and offered to get me some, too. I had just eaten the chili I had brought for lunch, so I declined the offer. When he got back, he asked if I wanted half a piece of pizza. I said no, thinking he was just being polite, and trying to keep on my healthy eating track. He told me that he only wanted half a piece, so there would be this leftover half-piece in case I changed my mind. Never one to turn down free food, especially free pizza, I ate the other half of his piece of pizza. Crazy! (As a former member of Congress, he had tickets to the Inauguration but decided not to attend due to the large crowds.)

Back-to-Back

I'm not big into name-dropping, but sometimes working in video production means that you get to meet some local celebrities. I always like the opportunity to meet these people, especially when they are down-to-earth. This week at work, I got to meet a couple of well-known Wisconsinites. I went on a shoot on Wednesday where I met UW men's basketball coach Bo Ryan. It was really quick - he was probably only there for about 15 minutes, but I got to shake his hand and run the TelePrompTer for him. He was a very nice guy. Then on Thursday, we had a shoot with the Wisconsin Attorney General, J.B. Van Hollen. We've done shoots with him before, and he has become more and more relaxed with each shoot. On this particular shoot, he came into his office, and I asked him what he was drinking. He said, "Do you want some? I can get you some." I told him that I didn't want any, but that it smelled really good and was wondering what it was. He jokingly asked me what made me think it was his drink I was smelling. I told him that the only new scents in the room were him and his drink-- And he jumped in and said, "And you just knew it couldn't be me, right?" Then he laughed. So there I was, holding a boom microphone, insulting the AG. Oh, well. Just another day at the office. . .

December 21, 1983

Twenty-five years ago, during a Christmas caroling outing with members of Hope Lutheran in Milton where my dad was pastor, I ran into the street in front of a blue Chevy pick-up. But let me back up. I remember it was a Wednesday. We had had school that day, but not the next day, so it was the first night of Christmas vacation. My friend Angie was spending the night. I had a piano lesson, and then we went to the church to gather with other members to go carol to shut-ins who were members of Hope. This caroling event was an annual affair. Everyone would gather at the church and make Christmas ornaments to give to the shut-ins, and then we would all head out to carol. After we had sung at a few places, it had started to snow. I believe it was the first snow of the season, but I can't be sure. As we left one house, my brother and his friend were throwing snowballs at each other, at me and Angie, at my sister. I decided to get them back, so I made a snowball. My plan was to throw the snowball and immediately turn to run away so they couldn't get me back. I threw it, and I ran. Right into the street without looking. I remember hearing my dad yell, "AAAAAMMMMMMYYYYY!" I looked to my right, and he was stopped, looking in terror at something beyond me. I turn my head to the left and saw headlights. That's all I remember, until I woke up with Gary Getchel (a high school senior) slapping my face and saying my name. (He had run back to where we just caroled, and actually ripped the screen door off its hinges to get inside and call 911.) I was on my back, lying in the middle of the street, with my left leg bent and my right leg straight. I was going into shock and just wanted to go to sleep. He had been told to keep me conscious, so there was a lot of slapping. When the EMTs arrived, they asked me questions - my name, age, etc. I had broken my left femur (thigh bone). They would need to straighten my left leg so they could put me on the stretcher and get me into the ambulance. The female EMT told me it was going to hurt a lot, so if I wanted to scream, I should just scream. She placed her right hand above my left knee and her left hand above my left ankle. She slowly straightened my left. I didn't scream. I felt my leg moving, but it didn't hurt. (I have since learned that because the femur is the largest bone in the body, the brain shuts down pain receptors when it breaks to spare you that level of pain.) They got me in the ambulance, and we headed to Mercy Hospital in Janesville. I remember the ambulance ride being very bumpy, which is rather unpleasant when you have a broken leg. They took my blood pressure several times, and kept asking me questions to keep me conscious. I had to be in traction to align the femur and allow it to heal correctly and be the same length as my uninjured right leg. Luckily, I had a clean break, and my only other injury was a cracked left clavicle. I was in the hospital for 23 days and went home with a cast that started just above my belly button. It went around my hips and then cut over to go down my left leg all the way to my toes. I could move and bend my right leg, but I could not sit up. I don't know how much school I ended up missing, but I had a home-bound tutor who would bring my homework and teach me my lessons. And now, except for a scar high on my left thigh, you would never know I had broken my femur.

My family has slightly different memories of this event, as does Angie. I hope they will share their recollections in the comments. . .

How the Grinch. . .

Einar and I watched the old cartoon version of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" on Monday night. I was tired from a long day on a video shoot and still trying to warm up (high of only about 5 that day). Watching the Grinch (and eating spicy-hot shrimp creole) helped me warm up. I sang along with some of the songs, and Einar even joined in! I always treasure the times when he'll sing, and they are few and far between. My favorite part of the whole 26 minute cartoon comes toward the end, when all the Who's are singing and the narrator says, "Christmas time will always be just as long as we have we. Christmastime is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp." Beautiful. Christmas is coming. Can you feel it?

Halloween

I will be waiting tables tonight while Einar is at home passing out candy to trick-or-treaters.  He has decided not to give candy out unless the kid says, "Trick-or-treat."  He will prompt them by asking if there's something he can help them with.  He is dressed up like Jim Carrey in the movie Fun With Dick and Jane, which means he's wearing jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt, and knitted winter hat.  Not very scary.  But it's in the spirit of Halloween.

My dad used to dress up for Halloween to hand out candy when I was a kid.  And a few times 

when I was in high school, I dressed up, too, and helped.  It was fun!  One year we even sat outside perfectly still, like Halloween decorations.  Dad had one of those scooper type shovels with a bowl of candy across his lap.  As kids would make their way toward the front door, ignoring us as mere decorations, Dad would slowly move the shovel and bowl toward them as he said, "Take one, please."  A couple of times a kid would take off running back to the driveway where his/her parent was waiting.  Sometimes they could be convinced to come back and get some 

candy; other times they just kept their eyes on us as they went to the next house.  It is one of the best Halloween memories I have.

New Roads

Growing up in Milton, Wisconsin, there were frequent, almost daily trips to nearby Janesville.  When I was in high school, one of the roads from Milton to Janesville was torn up and then redone.  A day or so after it was finished, my dad and I were heading to Janesville to run some errands, and my dad asked me, "What do your friends think of this road?"  I was driving, so I glanced quickly in his direction and then returned my eyes to the road.  I replied, "Um, I don't know what they think of it."  He laughed before joking, "You mean you don't talk about the quality of the roads with your friends?!?!"  I told him that no, in fact, my friends and I spent no time talking about roads.  He and I laughed and laughed about the absurdity of a group of high school kids talking about this topic.

I still can't drive on a newly finished road without thinking of my dad.  In fact, I have called him more than once when I've been on a road trip to let him know how great a particular stretch of road is.  Einar and I even laughed about this during our recent trip to Minnesota, commenting to each other and laughing about how nice the new 35W bridge is!  It's amazing to me how often this topic has come up in conversation during my adult life, and each time it does, I laugh.

Extra, Extra

I wait tables part time, and that means a lot of interactions with people.  Sometimes these people are odd.  Like a couple of weeks ago, when I had a table of two. . .  They each ordered an entree, hash browns, and a salad.    That in and of itself isn't unusual.  But then they said they wanted to order an extra side of hash browns.  This is a bit unusual since we serve the hash browns family style and an order for two is quite generous.  However, people really love the hash browns, so I didn't think much of it.  This was their first extra.  They then decided to order an extra salad, so they could each have a more sizable salad to begin their meal.  Extra number two.  They finished their meal (but not all of the hash browns - turns out that an order for two would've been sufficient).  I asked them if they would like dessert.  They both ordered 2 scoops of ice cream with EXTRA chocolate sauce.  I am not kidding!  I kept referring to them as my extra table.  I found myself hoping that their tendency for extra would mean I'd get an extra large tip.  Sure enough: 30%.  Hooray!

The Home Run

On Saturday, October 18, I participated in the Home Run 5K.  I am not a fast runner by any means, so my goal was to finish the 3.1 miles in 30 minutes or less.  I was thrilled to cross the finish line at 30:22!  Yipee!!  (My Race Results)

It was extremely foggy on Saturday morning.  It was so foggy, my glasses were completely fogged up within half a mile of the run.  I decided it would be better to run without them than to continue with them on.  When I got to the final stretch of the 5K, probably the last 0.25 mile, there was a volunteer cheering on the runners.  She clapped and yelled, "Good job!  You're doing great!  Keep it up!  Almost there!  You can see the finish line from here."  Uh-huh, I thought, not without my glasses.  All I could see was the arch at the finish line.  I could not see the writing on the arch that said finish.  Good thing there was also a crowd there cheering on the runners, or who know where I would've ended up!

Pontooning

When I was in high school, we had some out of town friends come to visit.  As part of their stay with us, we arranged to go out on a pontoon ride on a friend's boat.  There were about 8 of us on the pontoon.  Some people stayed in the back area of the pontoon under the canopy, and a few of us were on the front deck area.  As we were enjoying our ride on the lake, people were slowly milling about, moving from one area to the other.  At one point, more than half of the group was on the front area, and the front of the pontoon started to dip under the water.  My dad screamed, "WE'RE GOING DOWN!!"  and darted toward the back, quickly followed by the rest of us who were on the front.  He was heroically going to save my mom, who doesn't swim.  We soon realized we weren't going down, but we just needed to make sure we didn't have too many people in the front.  Consequently, yelling "WE'RE GOING DOWN!!" has become shorthand in my family for false panic.

Stories

I have been told more than once that I have a story for everything.  I was reminded of this yesterday while out on Lake Monona on a video shoot as I kept telling stories.  Most of them are true.  And most of them have happened to me or in my presence.  I think sharing these stories here on my blog will be a good recurring theme.  And for those of you who are part of the story, or were also there at the time, please feel free to leave a comment adding your memory of the event.  Cool.  Happy Friday!