Hold the Phone

Our phone is possessed by a mischievous spirit. There is no other explanation for the number and variety of wrong number calls we receive at our house. In addition to randomly redirecting wrong calls to our house, our phone also frequently chooses not to ring when people really are trying to reach us. We have had several reports of this phenomenon when people cannot reach us on our home phone and then call us on our cell phones saying "Why didn't you pick up?"
Since we got our land line, I have received calls asking if I am hiring, if I would like to advertise my business in the yellow pages, if I deliver and what my hours are. I have been mistaken for a Ruth, a Whitney and a Bathsheba. I have received phone calls in Spanish. I have even been called by a congresswoman. However, the two most amazing phone calls came from teenage girls. Their calls have convinced me that in the world of caller ID and cell phones the younger generation (I realize this makes me sound like I'm 60) has failed to learn old fashioned phone skills like introducing yourself. I understand that when you are using cell phones, you know exactly who will pick up and you expect them to know exactly who is calling, but certainly when an unfamiliar voice answers you should politely introduce yourself. Obviously, this was beyond the ability of the girls who called me. The first was a sulky sounding girl asking, "Is Jason there? Who is this?" She was unconvinced by my explanation that this was a wrong number. Clearly, she suspected her boyfriend of being with another woman. When I hung up, I imagined poor Jason getting dumped in soap opera fashion:
Sulky Girl: "So, a woman picked up when I tried to call you yesterday. Who was it?"
Jason: "What are you talking about?"
Sulky Girl: "Don't lie to me Jason. I know there's someone else. We're through!"
The second teenager who called me sounded so ditsy that at first I thought it must be a prank call... until I realized that I couldn't think of anyone who would prank call me. Our conversation went as follows:
Me: "Hello?"
Valley Girl: "Hello!!!" (she was very enthusiastic)
Me: "Hi. May I ask.."
Valley Girl: (interrupting me) "Hiiiiiiiiiiiii!" (this was drawn out for a good ten seconds)
Me: "Who is this?"
Valley Girl: "You don't know who this is?!?!"
Me: "No, I'm sorry, I don't."
Valley Girl: "OMG! It's Kimberly! DUH!"
Me: "I think you must have a wrong number."
Valley Girl: "No way!" *click*
This conversation made me very concerned for our future. Can you imagine the damage this girl could do if she was, say, Secretary of State? Maybe I shouldn't worry. Maybe she wouldn't even be able to reach the leaders of other nations. Maybe she only dials wrong numbers. There seems to be a lot of that going around.

Thinking Inside the Box

On Wednesday, the boys and I decided to put our ridiculous number of diaper and wipes boxes to good use and build a box fort. Building it turned out to be more of an adventure than I bargained for since the boys destroyed almost faster than I could cut and tape boxes together. When it was finished, I learned that I should have made it bigger since they fought over the space in the middle with the windows. They really had a great time playing in it and it lasted a whole 48 hours before being completely destroyed yesterday. Frankly, I was amazed when it survived the first 15 minutes. My boys are none too gentle.

Ready or Not, Here He Comes!

This week David John started crawling. What finally motivated him to crawl forwards? Popcorn. What else? He is truly Marc's son. This new skill means that I am constantly hearing the phrase, "Oh, no mommy! Baby bite!" I rescue dozens of books each day. It also means that I have to closely guard the ant bait in my kitchen which does not seem to attract any ants but certainly attracts David John. At first, I was very upset by the torrent of ants pouring into our kitchen, but yesterday I told Marc that I have decided to be grateful for the ants because at least they are not mice. Please enjoy these pictures of David John in action.





P.S. I am perfectly aware that he is in desperate need of a haircut. If anyone would like to volunteer or knows anyone in the area that cuts baby hair let me know.

Life as Art

I think my boys are planning an exhibit featuring artwork done with common substances. This week, they mastered the art of painting with mud and Eucerin lotion.I went in the house for 60 seconds and when I came back out they were doing this.

Yes, Gabe is eating mud from his bucket with his shovel.

Elijah is proud of how many buckets of mud he dumped on the driveway.

The boys gave David John a shovel too. They tried to give him some mud- but I stopped them in time.

The boys broke into their closets (we tie them closed each night) and somehow opened a brand new container of Eucerin lotion. Good thing the room needed to be painted anyway.

"Woobie dirty!"

Surprise! Look what we did!

We washed Elijah's hair five times after this incident. He still looks like a cast member of the musical "Grease".

Pediatric Party

Last Saturday we hosted a dinner and game night for several of the residents Marc works with and their significant others. Forgive me for the mushy moment but I have to say that I am truly grateful for the fabulous people in the pediatric residency program. Despite being very busy and being vastly more educated than I, these people take a sincere interest in me and my family. They attend alcohol-free parties at our house, babysit our kids and many of them even read this blog. We love you guys! Thanks for being our extended family here in Cleveland.
Anyway- we had great food (I still want all of the recipes please) and great fun. Here are some things I learned before during and after the party:
1. Teriyaki sauce, when cooked at too high of a temperature, becomes a delightful black sticky substance stronger than tar. I am pretty sure this is what the City of Cleveland uses to pave the roads. It's tough, but it is also water soluble which explains the post-winter condition of the streets around here.
2. There are no such things as potato rolls in Cleveland. What's up with that? Even the ghetto stores in Baltimore carried potato rolls.
3. Gabe is not carrying any communicable diseases. We know this because we're pretty sure he took a sip out of every single person's cup at some point in the evening and no one got sick. Right? Our guests were calling him "swiper."
4. Sophia is, apparently, one of the guys.
5. I like tabbouleh. Who knew?
6. Anas' impression of Elton John looks like a "sexy secretary".
7. Marc's Spanish is no bueno. We learned this when Kevin left his cell phone here and Marc tried to communicate that this was Kevin's phone, but he was not Kevin.
8. My Boggle game needs some serious work. I was repeatedly beaten by a team of six residents. I'll have to start practicing for a rematch.
9. Stefanie's religious beliefs dictate that she can only drink caffeinated soda.
10. It takes four pediatric residents to use the automatic timer on a camera. One to set it, two to move the card table and one to adjust the stack of books the camera is sitting on. Thanks to Sophia for all the great pictures. Here are a couple of my favorites:


This is the group shot using the automatic timer. I'm pretty sure this is take number 78. A few people aren't pictured here. They had to go to work or something ridiculous like that.



See the relieved smiles on our faces? That's because at this point in the evening the twins were finally asleep and David John stopped crying.

Intern babies David John and Ava. They were definitely interested in each other.

No Blockheads

I am really enjoying the budding creativity of my little boys. Most recently, they built a city out of megablocks for their plastic frogs. I couldn't help but find their creations beautiful in their own way. However, I also thought that I wouldn't want to be inside a Gabe and Elijah construction in the event of a natural disaster.

Popcorn Popping

I am married to a popcorn fanatic. Growing up, Marc developed a method of popcorn making that involved an air popper, a glass two-cup measure and a stockpot. This is serious business.
When we got married, we did not own a stockpot but I purchased a very large bowl which, I thought, would surely be big enough for popcorn making. However, I did not take into account the vast quantity of popcorn that Marc consumes. After trial and error, Marc discovered that paper sacks from the grocery store were large enough for his popcorn needs and started using those instead of a stockpot.
In our first three years of marriage, we burned out the motors on no less than six air poppers. Somehow, number seven was lucky- a gem among popcorn poppers and has lasted us a record four years.
With our stockpot and air popper problems solved, we thought we were home free in the popcorn arena until about two years ago when the white popcorn that Marc loves (using yellow is not even an option in his opinion) started disappearing from grocery store shelves. In a few months we couldn't find white popcorn anywhere in Baltimore. Thankfully, Marc's mom came to visit and brought us a twenty pound supply. We had high hopes that when we moved to Cleveland our popcorn woes would be at an end but alas, we did not see white popcorn at the local stores here either. My mom was periodically bringing us some from Fairborn but we frequently ran out before her next visit. And so, I had the following conversation with my husband.
Marc: "Sarah, I just ordered fifty pounds of popcorn online."
Me: "What?!?"
Marc: "Yeah, you can order up to twenty thousand pounds on this website."
Me: "What?!?"
Marc: "It'll be here in 2-5 business days."
Me: "That's a lot of popcorn. What are we going to do with all that popcorn? Where are we going to store it?"
Marc: "It's food storage. We'll just stick it in the basement."
The popcorn arrived via UPS on February 2nd in a single, very heavy box. On March 8th, we finished our first 12.5 lb bag of popcorn. At this rate, I would need roughly 280 lbs of popcorn to have a two-year supply. Maybe I should just go ahead and order a life-time supply of popcorn to save on shipping costs. At least I know where to get it- assuming I don't need more than 20 tons.

Truffle Shuffle

Please forgive my missed post last week and my slightly late post this week. We will blame a fatal combination of dinner guests, a family injury, the resulting road trip and the Olympics. Here is the post that I started last week but didn’t have time to finish until today:

Yesterday we had guests over for dinner. Being truly exceptional guests, they brought with them a box of Godiva chocolates. As I was savoring a delicious dark chocolate truffle, Marc asked me who Godiva was. I explained about the legend of the woman who rode nude through town in order to get her husband to lower the taxes on his overburdened subjects. Marc then wanted to know what this story had do with chocolate. “Did Lady Godiva even like chocolate?”
After extensive research on wikipedia, the answer to this question is clearly “no” since chocolate, even as a beverage, did not reach Europe until around 500 years after Lady Godiva’s time. It was even longer before chocolate was available in its solid form. This, then, begs the questions, “Why IS a chocolate company named Godiva?” and “Would Lady Godiva’s strategy work on the IRS?”
I think that the point of the name Godiva is to remind consumers what could happen when a woman has far too much stress and far too little chocolate. Lady Godiva was married to a tyrant and felt guilty about the starving populace. Clearly, this woman needed chocolate. If she had only had a reasonable supply of truffles she would never have felt the need to go on a ride without adequate clothing- also she would have been too fat. Perhaps the real goal of the chocolatiers at Godiva is to combat public indecency by expanding Americans' waist lines. Regardless, one fact is clear: women really do need chocolate.
Indeed, science is only now discovering what women have known for centuries: chocolate is the answer. Chocolate seems to speed the healing of emotional wounds and, according to a recent reliable source, even physical wounds including partially-severed fingers. Recent studies show that chocolate may also improve mood, reduce your risk for cancer, lower blood pressure and reduce risk for heart attack. This is why a woman with enough chocolate in her system can walk into a room and discover that her child has drawn all over the furniture with a permanent marker without keeling over and dying on the spot.
Please don’t think me a chocoholic. I really don’t think I eat that much of it but I do think our guests were inspired to bring chocolate that evening. David John chose to scream for several hours before finally falling into a fitful sleep and I certainly needed a little treat that night. It was as if eating that small piece of something lovely and delicious negated some of the frustration and stress I had experienced and nudged me towards complete sanity. On some days, perhaps chocolate is the only thing keeping me from losing it like Lady Godiva… besides the fact that I don’t own a horse.

P.S. My fabulous friend Holly introduced me to Godiva Rewards which gives you free chocolate! Details are here: https://www.godiva.com/member/rewardlogin.aspx