DFW to OMA, Row 32...or How I Met David Sedaris

After arriving at the airport in Austin at 5am for our first trip back to Omaha in 2.5 years and experiencing a hellish 4 hour delay, we transferred in DFW to OMA. We were comfortably seated in Row 32...writhing toddler and complaining pre-schooler in tow. And, here I was thinking the biggest benefit of this seat assignment was easy bathroom access for the one who likes "the tiny plane bathroom."

Escaping to my Happy Place while holding Liz, I began eavesdropping on the flight attendants as they discussed whether or not David Sedaris made it on the Stand By list. As the male attendant served up my drink, I told him what I'd overheard and asked if he could confirm that, as Sedaris is my favorite writer OF ALL TIME. "Bingo," he advised later.

Trying not to go into full stalker mode, I handed the now sleeping Liz off to Steve when the aisle was clear and in my best "avoiding deep vein thrombosis" move, walked to the front of the plane and looked everyone over on the way back. There he was around Aisle 16, fake sleeping, of course...read "When You are Engulfed in Flames."

As many of you know, I've had plenty of celeb contact and rolled with it. They are just people and most of them want to be treated that way. It was always the over excited 50 year old woman who was ready to bust her leg to get The Rock's autograph on a 2x4 that drove me nuts...so I had to play this cool.

I started flipping through Jill's Dora the Explorer coloring book [with over 700 stickers!!!] and found a picture of Dora and Boots checking out an airplane. Jackpot. I wrote on it, "When I heard you were on this flight, I wept like a bereft Pole." This is a reference to a story in "Engulfed." Didn't think I'd see him later, so I just put it away. Note, I did not include, "Can I be your stalker? Check [ ] YES! [ ] NO!"

Cut to the baggage claim. There's my father-in-law standing next to Sedaris and the local handler. He is wearing a highly flammable looking, plaid polyester blazer that looked like a home ec project. I whip out the picture and wait for him to stop telling her about how David Letterman practice interviews you then changes the questions during the show...here's my opening...

Me: Hi, I'm Marti Grandinetti. It's a pleasure to meet you. I really admire your work!

DS: [seeming genuinely flattered] Oh, Thank you. Is this your baby? She's cute. [note: she has a black eye]

Me: Yes, thank you. In fact, Engulfed was the first book I was able to finish since she was born. Do you give autographs?

DS: I do and I have a pen. [I hand him the Dora picture; he examines it, reads the comment on the bereft Pole and chuckles. He then draws tears on Dora's face and draws a bubble, writes "Me, too." and signs it.]

Me: So, are you doing a reading in Omaha?

DS: No, Lincoln. But last night I was in San Marcos [not pronounced the local way "Marcus"] at this strange book store...[thinking...] um..Hastings. Yeah. They had me set up in the Christian section. [We both laugh at this point.]

Me: Yeah...I heard that you were rebooked at The River [Austin mega-church] that last time you were in Austin. Your agent needs to work on that!

He agrees, I wish him good luck and safe travel and float off to the ladies room with the Grandinetti Girls in tow.

So, that's how I met David Sedaris. Super nice guy, no difference between normal and broadcast voice...and, about as tall as I am. : )

Centers for Disease Control Olympics Event: Rotovirus 4x4 Relay

Some of you may know that I like to think up new options for professional sports that would make watching the games more exciting. For example, in football, I conceived of what turned out to not be a new idea, The Fumble Ruskie. Oh well.

However, this week has inspired a whole new class of sports governed by the Centers for Disease Control. There is only one event to date, it's call The Rotovirus 4x4 Relay. Perhaps some of you have been or are participating in this event as I type [Trevor]. Here's how it goes:

The entire family's participation is required.

The mother and father are required to participate in 4 out of 4 legs.

One team member must be a helpless infant.

Batons consist of empty bottles of: Clorox, Lysol, Clorox Clean-Up and Clorox Wipes.



Leg 1: The baby contracts the illness first and harbors it the longest. Parents may no longer use wipes due to raging diaper rash and resort to damp paper towel after the wash cloths are no longer clean due to laundry back-up.

Leg 2: The Mother contracts the illness and is sidelined from caring for the rest of the family save for short bursts of engergy...which are reserved for treating stains and doing laundry and general disinfection of the household.

Leg 3: The Father contracts the illness just as the Mother seems to be picking up steam. His short bursts of energy are conserved for coating the interior of the house in Lysol and opening and closing windows.

Leg 4: When it seems inevitable that older sibling has dodged the Roto bullet and has attended both gymnastics and a bowling birthday party, thereby exposing hundreds to the virus, she contracts the illness. Seemingly uneffected by the symptoms, she has to be reminded to "toot only in the bathroom."

Each leg begins 24 hours after the last leg begins; e.g.: Leg 1 starts on Wednesday, Leg 2 starts on Thursday, etc.

Winning is determined only by your survival and you may rely on medical advice. Good luck!

We are raising a cave dweller.

I spent the afternoon in a cave with Jill and her Grandparents Grandinetti and 30 other people. This the 2nd cave trip in 6 months. The child is fascinated by every aspect of science...just read the other blogs...the circulatory system, the Snake Farm. She loves Earth science, chemistry, physics, and all natural sciences. I swear, if she doesn't pursue a career in the science field, I will truly be shocked.

Well, the 1st cave visit resulted in Jill co-leading the tour, along with the poor sap who was getting paid to actually lead it. Jill would ask a question, then report back to the group both the question and the answer. In a big outdoor voice, she's bellow, "there are bats, but don't worry, THEY WILL NOT BOTHER US."

On today's trip, we were able to see some very tiny bats up close...and I mean too damn close for my taste...like I was 5 feet from them. They are the size of chicken nuggets...hairy, sonar-lovin', blood-suckin' chicken nuggets, who were ready to go into hibernation, so "no flash photography, please." This did not stop the rebel behind me, who thought I'd make a great human shield in the event Lil' Fuzzy was going to swoop down in retaliation.

The tour guide had been very complimentary of Jill's haircut and festive red corduroy Christmas dress and snowflake tights, when we met her in the gift shop. Jill took a real shine to her and 10 minutes into the tour, Jill was holding her hand slogging up the damp path and announcing to the group that,"the E.T.'s finger formation is coming up next. You know, when he touches Elliot's owie and says 'ouch' and then it gets all better?! Yeah!"

The Nightgown

I was so inspired by my friend Sara's blog and picture of her little girl wearing her first nightgown, that I felt compelled to blog on 'our first nightgown,' too.

Maybe the nightgown is a rite of passage, the first blush of femininity for a pre-schooler...the end of nights spent looking like an oompa-loompa. I don't know why, but the first time your little girl wears her nightgown is somehow magical.

I picked up a pink number for Jill when she was about two. It had 3 cats on it, some lace and pleats. She fell in love. I have a great picture of her wearing it for the first time and doing a seat drop onto our bed...sheer glee [I'll try to find it to post].

My mom and I just packed Nightie #1 away with the 18 month clothes. Jill tried to highjack it in the process...it used to clear the floor by only a few inches...2 weeks ago, it was a mini-dress at best.

The first nightie has been followed by The Monkey Nighty, The Strawberry Nightie and the Tinkerbell Nightie, which she received for her birthday this year. She wore it to blow out her candles.

Old School

I'm sure that we are not the first parents of the New Millennium to encounter this situation, but increasingly, I find myself explaining antiquated technology to Jill.

By the grace of God, our local librarian chooses to show old-school film strips during Saturday Story Time, and I'm not talking about the "Your Body is Changing" one. I told Jill that when Dad and I were kids, we watched movies from a projector at school. Amazing! And it was only on a RARE occasion that we got to watch TV, like when a space shuttle was taking off. Shocking!

Other things we've had the privilege of describing with no tactile visual aides:

• Record players. Jill: "You played a round piece of plastic on it and music came out? Well, do you have one that I can see?" Somewhere, there's a stack of 45s containing Madonna, Duran Duran, Jefferson Starship and Howard Jones singles.
  
• VCRs. "Why is this Snow White movie so big?" I can distinctly remember when the first of my friend's families got a VCR. Intrigue! Living rooms packed with 13 year-old kids to watch The Sound of Music. You had to rent the tapes from the furniture store where you bought the VCR. Hilarious...now our DVD come in the mail!
  
• Having to actually watch commercials on live TV...we've had a DVR since shortly before she was born; frankly a godsend for families with young children. We routinely hear, "Can you skip 'it'," in reference to commercials. I feel like sitting her down and telling her that commercials are what keep a roof over her head; alas, too nebulous for a 4 year old. Related to this, pre-VCR, the neighborhood kids and I would record The Dukes of Hazzard and Knight Rider on a shoe box tape recorder, then relive the excitement, commercials and all, in Johnson's upstairs. Good times.
  
• I wonder what the heck she's going to do with all of her free time once research-paper season rolls around? No more lugging around a stack of 3x5" cards and sifting through the Readers' Guide to find some odd article in Mother Jones. Just log on to the Information Super Highway! She'll have so much information, there will be no need to use flowery language, triple spacing or extra wide margins to stretch the report to the requisite 10 pages.
  
• I'm not even going to start on microwaves.
• This does not include the toy category, but to her, markers and crayons have always been washable. I tried to explain a real Slinky to her after she got a tiny plastic knock-off at the dentist's office. It doesn't take batteries, but it can "walk down stairs alone or in pairs"? Right on...then it gets tangled up and ruined.

I know what Santa's bringing!

Happy Halloween, everyone!

We hope that you either have your pizzas ordered or are prepared to flee to the closest movie theatre in order to avoid this evening's festivities.

Lizzie will be sporting a Monarch butterfly caterpillar get-up designed by yours truly. This was a darling idea spawned by Jill's initial desire to be a Monarch butterfly. Sometime after she turned 4, though, the game plan changed.

Jillian will be wearing a layered Princess Leia costume for Halloween this year...her yellow Speedo bikini [as in Leia's Jabba the Hut slave 2-piece], under the white Padme Amadala unitard [she does not care that this is not REALLY Leia, just likes the holster and "shooting gun"], which will be topped off with the traditional white gown, but not the cinnamon bun wig. She "wants to use her own hair."

She will also be toting her green light saber [from her 2005 Yoda costume].

Yes, you are noticing a pattern, here.

Super Peanut Butter Cookies

This recipe is so unbelievably easy, I didn't think that it would work since there are only 3 ingredients, but I must say, these cookies may actually be pretty healthy.

But I must warn you, if you are on the fence when it comes to peanut butter, log off.

1. Preheat the oven to 375F.
2. Mix together 1 cup of peanut butter [smooth or chunky], 1 cup of sugar and 1 egg. You'll need 1/4 cup extra sugar to roll the dough in later.
3. Refrigerate the dough until it's firm. If you don't chill it, it will be really gooey for the next step.
4. Roll the dough into 1" balls with your hands, then roll the balls in extra sugar, place on an ungreased cookie sheet 2" apart.
5. Do the fancy criss-cross with fork as you flatten the balls out.
6. Bake for 10 minutes or until the edges turn golden.
7. Cool for about 10 minutes and remove from the cookie sheet.

They will not lose moisture due to the raging amount of peanut butter. I left them uncovered for 3 days and they got better each day!