Cold Spaghetti

Despite my bringing along my Scissor Sisters CD (I reasoned grooving to “Take Your Mama” in potential minivans would be a good way to test their appropriateness, why else have all that head space if you’re not going to use it to move?) the opportunity to indulge in trying family vehicles on for size was cut short. The minivan hunt is off.

Paul, while browsing the pictures I posted regarding our sweet little wagon, noticed that we do, in fact, have the LATCH seat attachments he had been sure weren’t in our vehicle. Keep in mind that we have been driving this car with car seats that we have installed and removed and reinstalled again dozens of times for over 3 1/2 years. So this was no ordinary revelation. The only analogy that comes to mind is maybe the thrill a dog gets when he realizes he can lick his own balls… imagine the surprise and joy, mixed with an overwhelming question of how stupid he was not to discover it sooner. And he says that I am turning into an over-intelligent, scatter brained academic.

LATCH and our car have been household obsessions for months. After weeks of talking to the Dealership about installing LATCH, Paul found the service bulletin for the install and decided that it was something he could do. He ordered the bottom latch hooks to install in the seats, but once they came (more than a week ago) felt that having full LATCH in the car was impossible due to how the hooks on the seat backs were built into the seat. Granted, I shouldn’t give him a hard time for not actually checking the seat backs (you know, the ones we see everyday when we load things into the back of the car). The front hooks weren’t there, so I assumed that they weren’t in the back, either. To be fair, I didn’t even know that back hooks were needed until recently. As a general rule, I try to keep my knowledge of car-related details to a minimum. It makes it easier to keep those duties as things that Paul is in charge of maintaining. For that reason, if you ask me what kind of car I drive, I’ll answer: “a white one.”

The bottom line is, the discovery of LATCH gave us the reason we needed to remain inert. I did have the car incredibly detailed (engine, too) so at least something positive happened. And there were two bites of interest in the car. So hopefully when we go to sell it in a few more months it will sell. Because we will be a family with a car that is big enough to hold both luggage AND our double stroller. It’s the American way.

Our baby is up for sale. *sniff* Interested, anyone??
2002 Volkswagen Passat Station Wagon, GLS model
– 55,000 miles (mostly highway)
– 4-Cyl. 1.8L Turbo
– Tiptronic Auto Transmission
– Leather
– Heated Seats
– CD player/ AM/FM
– PhatBox MP3 player (see http://www.phatnoise.com/vw/ for details)
– Power seat
– Moon Roof
– Premium Sound
– “Winter” package with heated windows/seats
– Heavy-duty floor and cargo area mats
– New tires w/ warranty
– Power locks, keyless entry
– ABS (4-wheel)
– Traction Control
– Roof rack

– Serviced exclusively with dealership, full history available.

It’s a well-loved, proven reliable family car for our one-car family… but it’s time for us to switch to a bigger car. Fully loaded for comfort and style, sporty, handles great, very fun to drive. White exterior, beige/tan interior. $11,000 OBO. Email/call for more pictures or information.

This is a more realistic comparison of what we’ve got in mind.

These aren’t exactly comparable (Toyota is $2-3K more and does not have the fancy options of the T&C) but this is the sort of thing we’re considering. We’d (okay, I’d) haggle with dealerships.

’06 Sienna LE

’07 Sienna LE

’07 T&C Touring

There’s also this. Which I’m going to try to see this afternoon.

(We would really like a Sienna… if we can stop dreaming about power doors.)

A 2-year old Toyota Sienna, 20-30,000 miles, some bells and whistles (power doors and chairs, roof rack, ACs in the back, etc.)

OR

A brand new, more basic, Chrysler Town & Country?

Key factors:
– Will be family’s only vehicle.
– Will be street parked.
– Will be beat up with hardware trips, crazy kids, and rough roads.

In the spirit of ‘better late than never’ documentation, here’s some news about Will’s First Trip to the Circus! With his sweet friend, Ana! (This all happened a week ago Sunday.) I didn’t get any super cute moments captured in pixels (like the two of them holding hands and insisting Emmy and I to do the same), but I assure you, they were real and adorable.

The phrase “Greatest Show on Earth” might be a little dated for Ringling Brothers, but they still bring out the elephants, white tigers, clowns in cars, strong man, and the like. My guess is that the whole circus machine is grinding down in recent years… certainly, they do their best to gouge you left and right to pump up the earnings ($10 cotton candy!) There are a few added show events: one is that you can tour the areas where animals are kept and learn about their education and preservation programs (I’m not convinced of how educational or protective this is, but hey, I was just trying to take my kid to a special event.) Below, Ana and Will are contemplating an elephant tooth, which we learned weigh about 9 pounds each and is one of 4 elephants have in their hoomongous mouths. There is also a pre-show where the performers sign autographs and do tricks. Although Will was a bit too overwhelmed to take part, he liked watching it from our seats. The performers invited lots of kids to take part in the tricks, with other performers randomly engaging kids through the audience. This part looked to be pretty fun. Maybe the circus could be fun without animals, then? (Oh, wait. That’s already done… Ringling Bros, you may have missed the boat!)Besides the smoking dragon that appeared at the start of the show, Will’s favorite part of the circus were the sport-bike motorcyclists who ride together confined in a small metal ball, looping around and around and upside-down. I was disappointed that there are no more high-flying acts of yore… stuff like the trapeze act with the family called the “Flying _insertnamehere_” swing and flip and catch each other in acts of greater risk and intensity. Also, no tight-rope walker where people do tricks back and forth on the rope until the final act, involving a guy on a unicycle with a woman on his shoulders juggling puppies. To be fair, there were samples of these types of acts (one woman on a trapeze swing hanging on her knees and a guy walking upside-down on netted handles) but not the classic groups of flyers or walkers. Safety concerns, understandably, have parred down the circus.

It was a very fun outing to do with a friend and nice to have some time with Will alone (no Paul or Kate). Plus (the best part) Ana and Emmy are great company!

Will, still wearing his shark p.j.s, eats a breakfast snack (“they’re not peas, they’re GREEN DROPS“) before school, 7:10am.

Since Katrina, the residents of New Orleans (and perhaps former residents as well) collectively have suffered from lingering effects of post-traumatic stress. This operationalizes in different ways for each of us, with each on a different cycle of ups and downs, good days and bad. It makes everything a bit more interesting because you are never quite sure when anyone (yourself included) will be pushed that teensy bit too far. As a result, we have people blowing up or breaking down regularly over things like not finding Splenda at the coffee shop counter. Or tripping on uneven sidewalk. Or, like the woman in line at Whole Foods, who burst into tears when she thought that she left her wallet in the car.

My bad days find me drifting in a blue hazy funk.

This is where I am now. I call it my “Katrina time of the Month,” although the reality is that it can last much longer and comes and goes without the regularity of monthly intervals.

My Katrina blue funk fills me with apathy, freezes my decision-making, shortens my patience, and leaves me with a small amount of coping skill to handle stressful situations. It is triggered by stress, frustration, feeling out of control, and sadness. It feels like all those things together.

I have this “thing” about bad years and good years and having the tendency to overgeneralize as I do (occupational hazard), have come to believe that my “lucky” years are even numbered years and my “unlucky” or “difficult” years are the odd ones. Much too much brain power has rationalized this. And whether a true fact or an outcome I’m assigning myself to believe, 2007 is sucking. As the year progresses and life continues to gnaw away at our rear-ends, I’m starting to look forward to 2008. Surely there will be happy times ahead, once we get out of this awful, off year? For someone who honestly tries to live in the moment, looking ahead for encouragement feels crummy. It means I’m missing out on something today.

Perhaps my funk is contributing to my overall sense of dread over Kate’s (and my) condition. This feeling, her illness… the yeast, the on-going night waking for food, being hungry all day no matter what, extended periods of irritability, difficulty sleeping, and beating the tar out of me at every opportunity… are all bothering me. So I called the doctor and began the over-worried discussion that:

unexplained yeast
+ sudden increase in appetite and thirst
+ irritability
+ fatigue
+ sores that take a long time to heal
+ my general feeling of dread and “waiting for the next bad thing”
= a situation where it would be a good idea to run a tests.

Kate has never had anything outside of physical exams and so a little test wouldn’t be too crazy, right? Just in case….? (In my defense, Will’s first ear infection was diagnosed out of my feeling that “something was wrong,” holding firm even while being accused of bringing him to the doctor because I wanted something to be wrong. Paul reminded me of this, I think in an attempt to boost my ego or get me to just call to get all this worrying over with.)

The doctor generally humored me — in the sense that she didn’t accuse me of being a Munchausen parent — and is leaving diaper collection baggies in the office for me to pick up. We’ll collect some urine, they’ll run a test. Hopefully this is what it will take to bring me back to the sunshine for awhile.

…and worrying about Gwen, who I hope is returning home as I write to enjoy a deep and blissful sleep.