Objectivity

I am a very rational person, sometimes to a fault. I try to look at things as objectively as possible. Few things drive me insane more than subjective or ad hominem arguments or decision making processes.
Keep that in mind and imagine my reaction to the American Idol finale.
I know it is not at all important. It's not even that important to me personally. I'm not going to rush out and buy an album or a poster or whatever. But Adam is simply the more talented vocalist and overall performer so it just bugs me that he didn't win.
It also bugs me that apparently I was annoyed enough about American Idol, of all things, to come home and blog about it.
At least now the season is over and two more week nights are freed up to do productive things like learn German and read the great Russians.

Simply Divine (mostly)

Easter drives me to get my liturgy on. I love the church I go to here, Emergence, but it is decidedly non-traditional. Every now and then I need a little Nicene Creed and a responsive Great Thanksgiving, and if some or all of it is cantored then all the better. Ergo, Andrew and Bianca and I attended mass at The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine in Manhattan. It was a beautiful, very high church, Episcopalian service. There was beautiful music, an inspiring setting, all the pomp and circumstance that the reformation hated and that part of me deeply appreciates. The incense is a big downside (I'm wicked allergic), but the liturgy, parts of which date back 1500 years or more, just fills an oft-neglected part of my spirit.
And then the soloist stood up. It wasn't in the program at all. She started singing a song I didn't recognize but it struck me as a little odd and cheesy that it had rainbows in it. Then she got to the chorus. That's right, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. And she had the congregation join in, which of course everyone did with gusto. And I sat there confused and bewildered and trying hard not to laugh.
At least the sermon was good and we sang Jesus Christ is Risen Today. I'll just try to scrub that medial guffaw from my memory.

CIA Huntdown: a meme

If the CIA ever needs to hunt you down they assume you'll return to someplace familiar. With that in mind they attempt to discover where you've slept for the past 6 years. Here's an opportunity to make it easier for them.

Where I've slept August 2003-August 2009:

Ballard Hall Dorm Room (Whitworth College, Spokane, WA)
Stephanie's RV (near Billings, MT)
Lung Family's House (Parker, CO)
DePoy Family's House (Parker, CO)
Durango UMC (Durango, CO)
UM Church (Navajo Rez, Arizona)
Parent's House (Littleton, CO)
Granny's Apt (Wheat Ridge, CO)
Tiki RA Apt (Whitworth College, Spokane, WA)
Fishy's Parents' House (near Olympia, WA)
Meagan's Parents' House (near Portland, OR)
U of I Dorm Room (Urbana-Champagne, IL)
Kyna's Theme House (Whitworth College, Spokane, WA)
Jeni & Lacey's Apt (Spokane, WA)
Liz's Apt (Tacoma, WA)
Kristin's Apt (Chicago, IL)
Guest House (Osu-Accra, Ghana)
Guest House (Tamale, Ghana)
Nkrumah Family's House (Tamale, Ghana)
Guest House (Lingbinsi, Ghana)
Guest House (Kumasi, Ghana)
Hostel (London, UK)
Bianca's Dad's House (near Folsom, CA)
Bianca's Mom's House (Mountain View, CA)
Andrew's Parents' House (Walnut Creek, CA)
Kayla's House (Grenada Hills, CA)
Kristin's House (West Seattle, WA)
Boppell Dorm Room (Whitworth College, Spokane, WA)
Shelly's Parents' House (Yakima, WA)
Claire's Parents' House (Oak Ridge, TN)
Jugendherberge (Berlin, Germany)
Augustinerkloster (Erfurt, Germany)
Monastery (Augsburg, Germany)
Charles University (Prague, Czech Republic)
Hostel (Budapest, Hungary)
Airport floor (Atlanta, GA)
Hotel (Butte, MT)
Parents' Apt (Lakewood, CO)
Motel (near Ogden, UT)
Motel (Seattle, WA)
Church (Vancouver, BC)
Church member's house (near Boise, ID)
Anna's Parents' House (Juneau, AK)
Kaemingks' Apt (West Windsor, NJ)
Alexander Hall Dorm Room (Princeton Seminary, Princeton, NJ)
Shelly's House (Minneapolis, MN)
Fishy's Apt (Chicago, IL)
Claire's Apt (Colorado Springs, CO)
Anna's House (Spokane, WA)
Erika's Apt (Spokane, WA)
Dave's House (Colorado Springs, CO)
Hotel (Billings, MT)
Hotel (Spokane, WA)
Prof's House (Princeton, NJ)
Hodge Hall Dorm Room (Princeton Seminary, NJ)
Jamie's Parents' House (near Olympia, WA)
Claire and Dave's Apt (Colorado Springs, CO)
University Medical Center (Princeton, NJ)
Chris and Jenelle's House (Colorado Springs, CO)
Andrew and Bianca's Apt (San Francisco, CA)
Bianca's Mom's House (Palo Alto(?), CA)
Hotel (tiny gambling town, NV)
Dogbe Home (Nima-Accra, Ghana)
Boarding School (Dodowa, Ghana)
Geila's Apt (West Windsor/Princeton, NJ)
Matt and Jeni's Apt (Edinburgh, UK)
Hotel (Ann Arbor, MI)
Jess' Parents' House (tiny town, Iowa)
Hotel (Cheyenne, WY)
Employer's House (Kinnelon, NJ)
"Granny's Castle" (Beach Haven, LBI, NJ)
Sarah's Apt (Trenton, NJ)
Erik's Apt (Philadelphia, PA)
Hostel (Harlem, NY, NY)
Jen's Dorm Room (Princeton Seminary, NJ)
Sean's Apt (Boston, MA)
Jaime and Caitlin's Apt (Spokane, WA)
Hotel (Philadelphia, PA)
Rachel's Apt (Bloomington, IN)
Atlantis Resort (Paradise Island, Bahamas)
Chris and Jenelle's Apt (West Windsor/Princeton, NJ)
Andrew and Bianca's Apt (Inwood, NY, NY)
Hotel (Paoli, PA)

I think if the CIA was ever actually trying to hunt me down I could change my name, learn an accent, and pretend to be an au pair who never left. I'd make a nice living in the city, and be invaluable to my employers so they would never want to ask for any real form of ID. Oh shoot, there goes my cover.

Spring Solstice

After spending time at Target and the Mall yesterday, with their overabundance of "Easter" paraphernalia, I've decided that we should just call this what it is: Spring Solstice. All the bunnies and eggs and Spring time stuff. Like the corresponding Christmas kitsch, I enjoy it to an extent. I'm excited that it is finally Spring after a long, dark New Jersey Winter. I like Cadbury creme eggs and have a soft addiction to Starburst jelly beans. So let's keep all that junk and just somehow remove it from Easter. It's basically become just another excuse to buy kids presents anyway, so what they remember about Easter is the candy and the baskets and bunnies, and if they go to church they are more likely to remember the Easter egg hunt and having to dress nicer than usual. (Incidentally, I also advocate keeping all the Christmasy kitsch but celebrating Jesus' birth on Jan 6, like the Orthodox church.)
These thoughts led to me putting the Dora the Explorer and Batman tin pails, the Spiderman eggs, the Disney Princess candy containers, and the Hello Kitty galoshes back on the shelf at Target yesterday. The kids are going to get more than plenty of that stuff, without me adding to it. Not to mention that I am the one stuff with the sugar rushed pre-schooler. So I got B a Bible board book and N an illustrated copy of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. I'm thankful that N does know what Easter is about, and I'd like to do my part to keep it that way.

Beef!

Claire and Dave have been here visiting me this week. They have now experienced first-hand the joys and tribulations of nannydom. I talked about them to N a lot, so he was way excited, especially about Dave the "real live artist". When I came up to start work on Monday morning N's first word to me was "DAVE!" and he repeated the refrain when I went to pick him up at school, but Dave was in Philly for the day so he had to wait until Tuesday to meet him. He pretty much flipped out when he finally did. So they painted together, and he was basically kept delightfully occupied. B also fell in love with Dave. I think it might be partly because he bears a slight resemblance to her pop-pop. She wanted to give him all her toys and food and said hi to him over and over and over at the table. What a flirt! She also couldn't say "Dave" so his new name is "Beef." Haha.
Today we are driving to Manhattan to spend the next few days hanging out with Bianca and Andrew. Yes, it's a rough life we live. The only thing missing is Shelly, our fourth Cloister sister. It won't be quite right going to The Cloisters without her.

The BIG One!

Nothing is in writing yet, but the director of the Institute said "Congratulations! You are our first choice." [Actually, as of a few minutes ago it is in writing!]
I don't think it ever fully sunk in how important my application and visit to Baylor were, like course-of-life-determining important. Neither has the fantasticness of my admission, but I did celebrate by eating three Kolaches on the way to the airport and getting myself a "Don't Mess With Texas" t-shirt.

All the clothing issues worked out fine, of course. I took pictures of myself in bathroom mirrors.

Today I Learned . . .

. . . that it is going to be made legal to shoot wild hogs from helicopters in Texas. Seriously. This came up during the comparative sociology lecture I sat in on today. I also learned that, according to some tv special, women in Texas need to carry guns both for protection and because it is hott. I also noticed that most of the news on the radio is a thinly veiled attempt to undermine Obama, but I sort of expected that. Yep, Texas is it's own animal.
Today I had an interview, a tour of the totally drool-worthy Keston archive that is all stuff on religious persecution under Communism, lunch with current students, and the aforementioned sociology class. Tomorrow I have two more interviews and two more classes before I head back to Jersey, another decidedly insane state but for very different reasons. If y'all are lucky maybe I'll even take some pictures to post.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

The hour between picking N up from preschool and getting the kids down for nap tends to be the most stressful of the day. Today it was so bad it was comical.
A few minutes after N gets in bed, I hear a crash. I go upstairs to discover that he has knocked over his tall halogen lamp. I smell burning, but there is no sign of danger, so I open the window, take the lamp out of the room, and tell N that he has to stay in his bed for nap today (usually he's allowed to just be in his room playing quietly).
I go downstairs and start refilling the tanks on the humidifiers, when I hear N out of his room and something like glass clinking. I go upstairs and he has brought the bulb and the glass cover to the lamp into the hallway. He then shows me where the carpet is singed which explains the smell. Apparently we came very close to having a fire. Oh, and B was crying the whole time not wanting to nap.
I go back downstairs, where I have left the water running in the humidifier tank, which has now flooded the counter top and is dripping copiously onto the floor. I mopped that up with just about every towel in the place. Then I ate an ice cream sandwich and read a chapter of Wuthering Heights, and let N's nap go a little longer than usual.

Can't Dress for Texas

Baylor is flying me out for an interview. Yay! But here's the thing: how in the world do I dress for this? So it's an interview, which means professional, but for a PhD program which might mean a little less than a job interview, maybe. It's in Texas, but a college town in Texas, with a department head from North Jersey. And I'm female and not old. So I need to look like a young, professional, intelligent, feminine, scholar . . . in Texas. I bought a skirt suit (black A-line skirt just below the knee and matching jacket with one button) and about 5 tops to choose what to wear with it, and shoes (black mary jane heels), and some makeup. Luckily my hair is really long right now, so I don't have to worry about what to do with it. In the midst of it all I need to keep reminding myself that while the overall impression I make is important, I am interviewing for a faculty of all men and they just don't notice/judge clothes the same way women do. Somebody hit me with a reality stick already so I can focus on the aspects of preparing for this that will actually make or break my chances at getting in to this program. And while you're getting out that reality stick, consider whether I should wear a collared shirt.

Application? Check!

At 7:30 this evening I officially became an applicant to the JM Dawson Institute of Church-State at Baylor University in (gulp) Waco, Texas. I've had the application done except for my personal statement since, oh, September. The deadline is February 15th, so I didn't cut it nearly as close as I could have. Now all that's left is emailing my writing sample to admissions lady, which I might do this evening. I have to decide whether to proofread my paper yet again. It's one of the 7 papers I wrote in two weeks last Spring, and considering that it took maybe 72 hours to produce from research to submission I think it's pretty darn good.
I think they should admit based solely on my wide-eyed excitement over the two books I purchased from Labyrinth, the only bookstore I have found with Eastern Europe Studies and Historiography sections, while I was in Princeton on Saturday: "A Carnival of Revolution: Central Europe 1989" and "Religion, Morality, and Community in Post-Soviet Societies." As soon as I finish the chapter on Bulgaria I get to take a break from "The Columbia History of Eastern Europe in the 20th Century" to read the latter of the two. What can I say? It's good to have a niche.

Words Fail

Today when I picked N up from school at 11:20 he told me that we had to go home and turn the tv on. I had already been watching inauguration coverage on my laptop while playing with B all morning, and had the radio on the in car, so I was more than happy to oblige. In the car I asked N if he knew why today was so important, and he really didn't. He understood that Barack Obama was becoming president, but couldn't grasp the historic occasion. He is only 4 after all. I did not know what to explain to him. I did not want to introduce the idea of racial struggle to him. I do not want to introduce the idea to him that there is or ever has been a thought that people who look different from him are in any way substantively different. I do not want to introduce the idea of "different". As it turns out, I couldn't explain anything any way. I got all choked up and could only get out something like, "just try to remember today."
I wish I could have been in DC for what I hear called Obama-stock and Barack-apalooza. I am so thankful that not only am I alive for this historic day and old enough to understand its importance. But more than that I am thankful that kids who are not old enough to grasp this moment will grow up in a country with a new ethos of hope and equality. I pray the ethos comes to reflect reality and not just the dream.

A Day In the Life

Nannying always seemed like a semi-glamorous job to me. I mean, they make movies about it! Mary Poppins, Uptown Girls, The Nanny Diaries, Nanny McPhee. They would never make a movie about Nanny Mo though, because life for this nanny simply isn't that interesting. Sure, the kids do cute things and the most unexpected things come out of their mouths, and by the end of the day my hair seems to always be a mess for some reason, but really it is very routine. So routine, in fact, that I sometimes lose track of what day it is and almost forget to watch Bones. Nevertheless I feel inspired to let you, my few but faithful readers, in on the goings on of my nanny life, if for no other reason than I seem to have spoken to very of you in person or over the phone in the past few months/years.
6:30am: Get up
8:00am: Go upstairs (my room is in the walk-out basement). Get N ready to go out the door with his mom to go to pre-school (shoes, coat, etc.)
8:15-10:30: Play with B, put in laundry, empty dishwasher, change diapers, tidy up. On Wednesdays we mix it up and spend the morning at Target or the mall while the house is getting cleaned.
10:30: I usually have an errand to run, or I get coffee.
11:15: Pick N up from preschool, commiserate and plan playdates with fellow nanny.
11:30-12:30: Make lunch, while kids play, tell N to get off B, kids eat, put N down for nap, give B a bottle and put her down for nap.
12:30-2:00: Either enjoy my lunch and a book and cup of tea, or fold laundry and tidy up and do dishes, or give N warnings to be quiet or tell him that no he cannot get up yet, or some combination thereof.
2:00: Get N up, play or do a craft or make cookies.
3:00: B wakes up, all play together (aka tell N repeatedly to share).
3:30: snack for N, bottle for B, get kids ready for afternoon activities.
4:00: head for Taekwando, church choir, piano lesson (other seasons it's soccer and swim lessons) or a playdate or the library, depending on the day.
5:15: return from afternoon activity, bath for N, finish up whatever laundry or dishes or tidying up weren't done earlier.
5:30: play in the living room, the Parents start getting home from work, making dinner, etc. Chaos ensues as kids want parental attention.
6:00: Get N settled watching a show, B playing independently, then retreat to my room until dinner.
7:00ish: Eat dinner with the Fam
evening: watch TV or go to Borders to work on German.
10:00: beddy-by time.

Fascinating, eh? The stuff of Hollywood! Actually, I just watched Nanny Diaries, and the very beginning of it with all the Upper East Side moms clobbering Annie who is the caddillac of nannies because she is white, college educated, and perpetually single, is pretty accurate. The part where she instantly connects with the little monster child and suddenly he is perfectly well behaved is a load of crap.

Fiscal Responsibility

I've never really had much in the way of finances with which to be responsible. I've followed the pattern of work hard, save for a trip, close the savings account and go on the trip. Now that I have completed 7 months of gainful employment, but without being very responsible with my income beyond putting over 1/2 toward loan payments, I've decided 2009 is the year of the budget. I'll be continuing to put 1/2 my income toward loans, 1/6 into savings, something trying to approach a tithe toward my church and mission support, then there is health insurance, cell phone, and odds and ends. Whatever is left after I do all that and drink coffee more responsibly (like maybe not driving through the coffee hut more than once each day) will go into a travel fund. I don't have any trips planned for 2009 yet, but we all know I'll make it happen. Honestly, I live in someone else's house where all my food, car and gas are provided. It simply should not be that difficult to stop spending money like it's going out of style.

Oh, and I had an awesome time in CO. Here are a few reasons why:

Bring on the Jolly

My Christmas vacation is about half over now. I am writing from Claire and Dave's couch, listening to the Colorado wind, and having a lazy morning (though not as lazy as their's, as they are much better at sleeping in than I am). It has been a really lovely break. I love the kids, but man is it nice to not have to bundle up two extra people and protect the baby from her brother's well-meaning displays of raucous affection, or have to listen to/calm tantrums. Yesterday I got my snow and mountain fix at Monarch where I read and edited writing samples in the lodge while others skied. It was a beautiful day, essentially Colorado in ways that people in Jersey just can't understand. I've also made the friend rounds of course, catching up with Sean, Jesse and Jaime, Erika, church folks and of course my parents and granny. I think one of the best parts is not having to write papers during the vacation. During seminary I always had to bring home an extra suitcase just for books since all my papers were due in January. I'm still definitely reveling in the free time and the excessive reading for pleasure and TV on DVD watching. Claire has big plans to get me hooked on X Files, which will probably start some time after we go get massages this afternoon.
Have I mentioned how much I love Colorado?

Christmas in da House

It's amazing what not living in a dorm room or having finals hanging over my head does for my Christmas spirit. It also helps that the Fam is having a big Christmas party today after N sings in the cherub choir at church. Spending the first week of December at an amazing resort in The Bahamas, immediately preceded by a few days with Rachel in Indiana didn't hurt either. (I'll post some Bahamas pictures when I get around to it.)
Yesterday was the most Christmasy day I've had in years. We had Christmas music playing on the stereo most of the day. I hung some lights around my window, and last night I watched White Christmas. The real adventure was making cookies with N. We've baked together before, but never to this level. We made sugar cookies, which he got to cut out with mini Christmas shapes, and decorate (he only licked the spoons then returned them to the frostings once before I caught him, so here's hoping no one catches his cold); we also made peanut butter blossoms, which he got to put the Hershey kisses on. This is probably the largest baking task I have ever taken on, so thanks to Becky Homecky for all those years of letting me help out with the pies at Thanksgiving -- turns out it prepared me this. The cookies turned out great, N was occupied for a few hours, and poor little B was mostly neglected in her Pack-n-play, but she coped.
Today I went on a search for something to wear to the aforementioned party (failed!) and for presents for the kids. Here's the thing about being a nanny: I will bear the brunt of every gift they receive. All the screeching and sirens and putting together of race tracks (which I am bad at, by the way) and cleaning up of glitter or paint or whatever other insanely messy things friends and relatives decide would be a good idea for N, it all lands on me. So I was definitely shopping for my sanity as much as for his fun. I found a great gift that he will enjoy, that won't make a mess, and that he can enjoy mostly independently. Not that I don't like playing with him; I do, but so many of his toys require me to put something together and by the time I finish he's usually either lost interest or gotten frustrated or injured himself or his sister. I never put him in front of the tv, and very rarely on the computer when I need him to be occupied, so I bought myself a few minutes of sanity. He can sit at the table with some water and paint his little re-usable activity card thingies (apparently it's hard to describe the toy . . .). Now if I'd only realized a few weeks ago that a plush baby bowling set was the perfect gift for B, and had time to find it in a store I'd be all set.
Tomorrow I'm going into the City to enjoy the lights and such. Yay for NYC at Christmas. I will be driving into Manhattan, so wish me luck.

Bad Idea Bears

Avenue Q is HILARIOUS! Honestly, how could a show featuring Sesame Street-esque puppets, Christy Carlson Romano (from Even Stevens and Kim Possible) and songs like "Everyone's a Little Bit Racist" and "If You Were Gay" not be? Okay, so it's not for the easily offended. My friend Jen and I had awesome seats, and after the show we donated $ to charity in exchange for having our photo taken with the Bad Idea Bears and performer/puppeteer Jennifer Barnhart. If you're not careful they will convince you to spend the last of your parents' money on a case of beer and to get wasted on long island iced tea and wild sex the night before you have grown up responsibilities at work. Maybe it was they who influenced me to get the mega portion of mac and cheese at Super Mac after the show (try it next time you're in the City!) - I'm still full of cheesey goodness.

What is the wierd patriotic feeling?

Yesterday I dressed B in her July 4th outfit: an American flag print dress (over white onesie and sweat pants). Now this is kind of outfit that made me gag a little just a few months ago. When she first wore it I found it cute (after all, what outfit isn't cute on an infant) but a little obnoxious and indicative of the kind of family I was working for (ie. Republican). But yesterday I was excited to vote, and proud to live in a country where I am free to exercise that right and responsibility, so I dressed B for the momentous occasion. I found myself reclaiming the truth that our flag is not representative only of the kind of patriots who hang pictures of George W. in their homes and sing God Bless America in church and want to build a wall and bring Democracy and capitalism to every nation whether they want it or not - in short the Republican Christian Right. The flag is also representative of the kind of patriots who finally blast through apathy and cynicism en masse and pave the way for historic and much-needed change. A few weeks ago I was explaining patriotism to N and told him that his parents are very patriotic. When he asked whether I am patriotic I had to search for diplomatic words that would satisfy him and not offend his parents if he talked about it at dinner. I told him that there are many ways of showing patriotism, and that voting is one of the most important of them. I woke up this morning with excitement and hope still fresh, and for the first time in my adult life I can honestly say that I am proud to be an American. I won't go putting flags all over my stuff or replacing my current wallpaper with a photo of Barack Obama. I still prefer to maintain some degree of critical distance, never confusing the fact that my citizenship is in heaven from whence I await the return of my savior Jesus Christ. But when I travel abroad and people ask where I am from, I probably won't lie and say Canada any more.

Happy Reformation Day!

Here I am giving our man Luther some love at the Reformation Museum in Wittenberg, the place where it all started. I am a little disturbed to discover that among my hundreds of pictures from the 2005 Reformation Study Tour I have no pictures of the church door where Luther posted his 95 Theses. Travesty!
There's your Christian History nerd moment of Zen. If I were going to a Halloween party, or spending the day with fellow church nerds, I would dress up as Katharina von Bora. As it is, I'm wearing my railroad engineer overalls (probably the best $5 I've ever spent at a thrift store) and taking B in her adorable little lion costume to N's school, where he will be dressed as an astronaut for the class parade.

A Little Help Here?

N has decided it would be fun to regress. As is, he's had an accident almost every day for almost 2 weeks. I do not like poop. Any advice?

A-Maize-ing

Last Saturday I went to Chester, NJ with my small group to conquer a massive corn maze. It's the only corn maze I've ever been to, but more seasoned veterans of this rural past time assure me that this one is huge and elaborate comparatively. We got through really quickly because a few people got cool glasses that allow you to see a map and guided us through without wrong turns. It might have been fun to get lost some, but we also might not have made it out before nightfall. This picture shows the map of the maze at the entrance. Every year they have a different theme, and this year's was "Vote '08."