Minivan Mom Superpowers: Seeing the Hidden

Minivan mom may seem ordinary, but she has superpowers.  Evil household items (like dust-cloths and cleaners) are have the ability to become invisible to teenagers.  They can't finish chores because some critical piece is "not there!".  ("There" being defined as "jumping off the shelf and attacking me!")

Minivan mom can swoop in, and find the misbehaving item.  In 30 seconds or less.  

I used to get frustrated.  Now I just Embrace the Power!

writing

I don't like writing.  I don't like *my* writing.
My writing won't get better, if I don't keep writing.
Therefore, I must keep writing.
But I don't wanna!
But I have to.
So, I won't do anything else, until I write something.  Lame, horrible, it doesn't matter.

Gah.  Being a grown up really is the pits.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle of Food Shopping

• The more complete your shopping list, the more likely critical items are unavailable at the store.
• The larger the store inventory, the more likely the shopping list is incomplete.

Δ(list)Δ(inventory) ≥ # people to feed

My secret disguise works!

I think I always look like a geek, but apparently my secret disguise is working.

Scene:  The supermarket, Thursday at 1:30 pm
Cast:  Me, Random woman
Setting:  Cereal aisle, Kelloggs section

RW:  Oh my G-d, we are dressed exactly the same (black V-neck tee, khaki shorts, sandals, backpack used as purse, no makeup or jewelry, hair au natural) and we are looking at the same cereal!

Me:  Haha

This would have been an unremarkable encounter, except that Random Woman decided to follow up with various questions ("Do you have kids?", "How many?") to find other amazing similarities (Yes, We Both had Kids.  Yes, We Both Drive Minivans).  It got a little strange.  It wasn't as though we were the only ones dressed that way.

But, it's good to know that I blend in!  I wonder if RW would have been shocked by my true identity...

I've been a chemist too long....

I recently went to the Apple Store.  Since the iPad launched, the Apple Store is much busier.  In the past (pre iPad), you could walk in, find someone in a brightly colored T-shirt, ask your question/buy your product and be on your way.  Now, you have to find the "dude with the iPad" and put your name on a list.  Then you wait until someone in a brightly colored T-shirt (currently bright blue) finds you.  

This gives you ample time to play with the iPads (oh, you evil Apple marketing geniuses), but it's an inconvenience, especially if you want to complete your transaction in less than 15 minutes.

So, I needed to buy a computer, but I didn't want to wait for an available salesgeek.  Surely Apple has something for me.  Yes they do!  You can sign up for a personal shopping appointment.  I discovered this by dropping by the Apple Store and talking to the "dude with the iPad".  He gave me his card because it had the web address for personal shopping appointments.

OK--what does this have to do with being a chemist?

I took the card home and left it on my desk.  When I next looked at it, I was confused.  Under his name, instead of "dude with the iPad" it said "lead specialist".  I read this as the metal lead (chemical symbol Pb, known for its high density and presence in paint made before 1978).

Why, I thought, would Apple have a metal specialist.

Oh, of course, it's lead (leed) rather than lead (led) (the metal).  This is why I've been a chemist too long.

But this just lead (ha) to further confusion.  If someone is a specialist, aren't they unique?  Why would they need a leader?  And if they are not, why call them a specialist?  If they need a leader, wouldn't that be the special-est specialist?

Dude with the iPad is much more descriptive.

Someday, maybe I'll have an iPad of my own.  Until then, I have to hang out at the Apple Store.

Quote, without comment

"If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?"

Lately seen on a bumper sticker

More Parenting Advice from Star Trek

From Captain Janeway, USS Voyager, to Seven of Nine, petulant former Borg(==teenager):

"Around here we have a command structure and I'm the captain!".

Yes, I want my children to think for themselves and not blindly follow authority.  But....my patience for endlessly debating the mundane details of how/when chores are done, or why they can't do something, even if "everyone else's mom lets them" is limited.  By implementing a command structure, I can eliminate the debate (which is generally just a delaying tactic) and move on to Actually Getting Things Done.

So far, this works fairly well.  Since my children don't actually watch Star Trek(gasp!), I've had to do some basic explanation[1], assign ranks[2] and implement some fairly rigid training exercises[3].  I've also gotten some limited buy-in from the love of my life/first officer [4].

Also effective:  A curt "Dismissed" to end pointless debate for which "I'm the captain!" does not apply.

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[1] Basic explanation also includes important information, like never volunteer to beam down to a planet while wearing a red shirt, unless you are a recurring character.

[2] The older two outrank the youngest which made the older two much more enthusiastic about the plan.  The youngest hasn't fully bought into the program, but she isn't fully teen yet, either

[3] Consisting of repeating "I'm the captain!" to any complaints.   If that is unsuccessful, I remind them that "resistance is futile!".

[4] Who is unaware of the limited, um, romantic opportunities of the first officers.  Please don't tell!