Life in the Slow Lane

My Granny car is affectionately called the Bugle. It has been off-roading through creek beds with two squirmy twins strapped in back, it has carried a dorm fridge and fish tank with relatively little harm to the contents of each, and it has seen about 100,000 miles with me. But alas, and woe, it was in an accident two months ago that left it blind in one eye. I was not driving at the time, nor was the car in any way to blame, but suddenly I feel like a horrible driver. I can't use the left turn signal, and I know people are scolding me for being lazy and not caring about their safety enough to turn the dumb signal on. And every time I execute a less than perfect turn, I can hear people thinking "Woa, crazy driver. Watch out for her, look how badly she managed to bash in her car." Of course the smoke coming from under the Bugle's hood today didn't help. People always want to make statements with their car, but I think my Granny car is done making statements and is ...

Today we celebrate our 250th post here at Life in the Slow Lane. Now you may ask why do we celebrate it today and not yesterday when we also could have had our 250th post or even waiting until tomorrow to have our celebration. Well the reasoning is this: Today is February (the second month) of 2006 and today is the 26th day of that month. Isn't that a lot of pretty twos and sixes? If that isn't enough good, sound reasoning for you, how is this: We just marked a year and a half of blogging and the fact that we reach such a nice round number as 250 posts during this nice round number of months, is just too good to pass up. Okay, so really none of those reasons are the real reason that we are celebrating 250 posts today. Mostly it is just because I am tired of these maps leaking off the page into my sidebar and mixing with the links and so I want to put in another post so that they will move farther down and so remain more separate.

There are some things that we assume will always be part of childhood: Crayons that can have their labels peeled off so that you can color in broad side-ways strokes instead of using just the point... sandwiches where the crusts are left behind... peanut butter and jelly where the goopy goodness squeezes out the back while you take a bite from the front... These seem like they should be included in the definition of childhood. But no longer. Our bigger and better and more hygenic world has gotten rid of these things. Crayons come in "Twistables", encased in plastic with little, wimpy surfaces for coloring. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches come as "Uncrustables" that are little sealed bread pockets. And, if "Uncrustables" don't provide enough options for going without the crust, you can buy loaves of bread that come without any crust. Any day now they will introduce a product that will keep great aunts from pinching little cheeks and remarking on how ...

I've been wanting to do this for years. Very cool. States I've visited create your own personalized map of the USA Countries I've visited create your own visited country map

When you spend a great deal of time with people who have not yet learned to articulate, you spend a great deal of time solving riddles. "Bumfus, I wan Bumfus" no matter that it is 2:00 in the afternoon, this child is asking for breakfast. "Mmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmmm!" Yes, dear, there is the moon." With instances like these, pointing and gesturing on the part of the child helps the adult figure out the solution to the problem. Enter 10 bazillion children's toys based on TV shows, movies, computer games, books, etc., etc. They have names. The kids know the names. If I happened to be familiar with all of the TV shows, movies, computer games, books, etc., etc. I would know the names, but, even though I live life in the slow lane, I am not personally acquainted with the names of Sponge Bob Square Pants (where in the world do you put the possesive on that name?) top ten friends/enemies, nor that egg headed kid and his friends who are on Playhouse Disney at 9 am weekday...

Sometimes I receive a look that says "What kind of horrible mother are you?" Usually I get that look when one of my charges is lying in a tangled mass of limbs and scooter. I'm sitting calmly in the lawn chair making notes on my to-do list and the concerned drivers of cars going past slow to a near stop and make urgent pointing gestures towards the downed racer. I haven't come up with a good way of letting the neighbors know that while it appears that there is a three year old dying on the front lawn, it really is a professional motorcross contestant hearing the wild cheers of the crowds for the recently executed stunt. But then again, I also haven't come up with a good way of letting people know I'm not the child's mother. A mother is expected to say "thank you" when their child is complimented. Every one else can say "I think so, too." I frequently find myself wondering "Should I be the polite mother and say 'thank you' e...

Once again I find myself taking back an earlier statement with regards to The Wiggles. The online Wiggles games actually do provide a bit of entertainment. I actually laughed when I discovered it today. They have one " game " that whenever you click on a shape it has one of The Wiggles say it aloud. They have the normal shapes... triangle, square, circle, rectangle, and then they have a dodecahedron. Apparently, some people have trouble pronouncing it.