Arts advocacy.

So I spent Friday down at the capital building in Denver, meeting with a few representatives and missing a few senators, in efforts to convince them to vote for a few bills currently wending their way through our state government's halls.

This is less about the bills or the people who met with us than about what I learned, which is that it is darn near impossible to pay any attention to your constituents in the Capitol building if you're someone who actually plays a role in creating state law. I am not a lobbying novice to the extent that I found this surprising, but it was newly disheartening.

Of the five people I contacted to set up appointments, I actually met with two of them. Of those two, I spoke to only one for longer than 30 seconds (we might have clocked in at around 4 minutes, and she was being generous with her time).

And who could blame them? They had roughly 50 bills to consider that day, including animal protection, medical marijuana regulation, land use, water use...and the list goes on. Even when they had something intelligent to say, it was in the context of a crowded hall filled with shoving people in suits all waving cards at men in green jackets and falling on representatives like pirahnas whenever they came off the floor.

Apparently opinions are formed in their offices, in off-hours, and in the off-session, not hard in a state where the legislature is only in session five months a year (January-May, unless a special session is called). Clearly, any real decisions aren't made run-time because it's loud and hot and too airless to think straight.

And the political pressure to reject any legislation offhand that requires funding is immense. It doesn't matter how low our state falls in education rankings, for example (go number 50!); since we have less than no money and everyone's trying to suggest cuts to bridge the state's looming deficit, no policy that requires funding tied to educational improvement is likely to get past a first hearing. There is no money.

I could talk until I'm blue in the face about how this sets up a chicken-and-egg scenario where we keep funding what isn't working in our schools, even though change might cost less and be more effective. Innovation requires time to explain, though, time to make a case. And in a state where the state-level politicians have very few months to create a political identity, and sharp term limits, innovation is unlikely to make the radar let alone get passed. I am unconvinced that this is a good thing for those few tasks that the government basically owns non-competitively: transportation, prisons, and public education. (There are probably others but those are the three that often receive the most attention in CO because they don't have permanent dedicated funding sources or related constitutional amendments (higher ed at least), so their fungible budgets get attacked every single year.)

Basically I'm glad I walked in with very, very low expectations. It is frustrating that even really, really good ideas cannot get the attention they deserve in that kind of everything-gets-30-seconds environment. I was born in, and have lived in, several other states where I found the state government experience more...well, relaxed? "leisurely" is incorrect, you didn't waste people's time, but it seemed more possible to be informed about the arguments for and against any particular piece of legislation.

I think there's something to be said for year-round legislature sessions, or perhaps multiple short sessions. Surely more thought should be put into good governance than sound bites can provide.

today's moment of Zen.

To-do lists are long, time is short, children are obstreperous (but so darn cute!), so I thought I'd share my favorite snarky news item of the day...apparently I am not the only one craving the sound of silence.

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-et-olympic-internet25-2010feb25,0,899294.story

And here is a toast to whomever thought of posting these on Youtube without the commentary.

In the swim.

Oh, do I wish I had pictures of this afternoon.

Miranda had her first swim lesson of the session today. Instead of trying to corral Tucker for 45 minutes while she sauntered around the splash playground with her class, I decided, well, the heck with it, and took him swimming during her lesson.

He thought the pool was made of awesome! Even though the water features were turned off during lessons he went up and down the pirate slide by himself, on his tummy forwards and backwards, about a kabillion times. And fell face forward in the water at least twelve times and just stood up and kept going. Absolutely no fear whatsoever, which was seriously inspiring both because of memories of my own swim lessons (painful) and of trying to carry Miranda into the pool at various ages and teach her to float/swim (still painful unless a pool noodle is involved).

I spend a fair amount of time these days noticing how alike, and how different, my children are. Sometimes I try to figure out if "this" is a boy/girl thing, or a birth order thing, or a personality thing...but mostly I try to figure them out in the context of themselves and consistency. If Tucker's cranky for more than ten minutes, he's probably sick or in pain. If Miranda seems moody and cries more easily than usual, she probably needs food because her blood sugar is low, or water because she's dehydrated...she seems more susceptible to those kinds of mood swings. The pool is only one more place where my children approach learning differently. Now, I need to figure out how best to encourage one to take risks and the other to look before he leaps.

The $10K dress.

So several of you have been awaiting pics from my recent escapades at the Opera Gala. Each year the opera program hosts a big fundraiser at a local hotel. A major donor who used to be a model donated several of her old gowns to the opera program, in hopes that the students would be able to wear them for performances of some sort. These included a few couture gowns including one valued at $10,000. None of the dresses fit our current students, but one of them did fit me--the $1oK one!--so I got to wear it to the ball:

Talk about feeling like a princess! I should also mention the ridiculous shoes--I ended up wearing five-inch heels to be able to keep the dress off the ground. Did I mention I was stage-managing the event? Luckily I had very little furniture to move and a lot of assistance under the circumstances! And I towered over most of the donors during the pre-Gala cocktail hour, including the chancellor and provost, which was really amusing. I was definitely looked up to.

My own borrowed plumage aside, everyone looked stunning--the male singers were in tuxes and the ladies were in evening gowns. One of our students was Miss Montana 2006 so she had a great gown collection to choose from. It was a really memorable night, and the opera program did very well so the purpose of the evening was achieved. On a side note, I am really glad I don't work in a profession where my success would be based on looking glamorous. I like sensible shoes too much. It was really fun to play princess for a night, though.

Additional degrees of difficulty.

Two brief tales of yesterday:

First, our morning paint spot-check led to the discovery of a few inevitable drops of blue paint on an off-white ceiling. And the eventual related discovery that we have eight different shades of off-white paint (!) stored in cans downstairs from the previous owners. And the later discovery that none of these shades were distantly related to the upstairs ceiling, after multiple patch tests (!!). And the eventual resolution whereby Matt chipped out a small section of the ceiling and took it to the Depot for a paint match, which will now be close enough to use to touch up. We were briefly confronted with the possibility of painting the whole ceiling, then of course basically re-doing the room because ceiling paint always splatters onto the walls...speaking of brief moments of despair. So hurray for the modern miracle of paint matching, and we'll hope to get the touch-up work done tonight and tomorrow.

Second, the Tuckmeister had an incredible meltdown, even for him, at the grocery store yesterday. Sunday afternoon at 2:45 p.m. is apparently an incredibly busy time at the Soopers, so we were four deep in line with everyone's full carts. By the time we were next, he lost all patience and indeed his tenuous grip on reality. (It is worth noting that the people in front of us took this opportunity to fill out the form for a discount card, then to pay by check--I am not kidding, almost 10 minutes of forms--they were NOT HELPING!) He threw a full-body tantrum and when I picked him up he hit me in the face repeatedly and sent my glasses flying. Luckily they did not break. But we seriously had an audience of at least 25 people when I put him down for a second to grab my glasses, and he rolled over and LICKED THE FLOOR. Of the grocery store, on a very muddy/ slimy/ snowy day, the week after he recovered from pneumonia. So I picked him up again and let him flail over my shoulder for a few more minutes before he finally went limp. The man behind me was heard to comment that he would have been beaten at that age for acting like that, right before he congratulated me on doing a great job for not hitting him. That was sweet, really.

I love my son even when he has completely lost his tree. And he did calm down and give me big sorry hugs and sloppy kisses afterwards which did restore our equilibria considerably. Still, I would be the first to invest in a toddler-arm-restraint system of some sort if a humane option were available. Imagine, say, a vest with wristbands that would restrict arm movement by pinning arms and hands to the ribcage with strong magnets after 5 seconds of arm-flailing trigger the system. Any takers? Thoughts for improvement?

Obligations.

The painting is well underway upstairs, although we will be doing the final spot check in the morning with good daylight before the final room cleanup and reset begins. The bug put in an hour's worth of heroic effort painting the edges near the trim with a small brush, and she got a special painting hairdo which meant she actually let me put her hair in a ponytail for approximately 2.5 seconds. She does not approve of hairstyling in general, although she will occasionally let me put some curls in her hair on truly momentous occasions like Easter and school picture day.

This will mean night 2 of sleeping on the floor/couch in the living room due to room rearrangement, and this is unlikely to be restful but it's better than the alternative of sleeping in a not-quite-dry-latex-smelling room with the window open during a mild snowstorm. The children are both in bed and nominally asleep which is great but also unlikely to last. Tuck learned to make siren noises yesterday afternoon and made sure we knew he had gained this valuable knowledge this morning at 2 a.m. which was mildly alarming until I realized there wasn't an ambulance outside in my half-awake fogginess.

Tomorrow church, then the cleanup. And perhaps a few long-overdue thank-you notes, and grant writing, and a few minutes of bliss visualizing a blank to-do list...

Change of scene.

Tomorrow we will be painting the master bedroom an actual color. This is hideously exciting to me because our walls throughout the house, except for the kids' rooms and our bathroom, are all blah beige. It may be officially called "vanilla creme" or something like that, but it's blah beige with white trim.

Before-and-after pics will be forthcoming, but I am excited for the transformation. After so many years of frequent moving it has taken over four years in this house before it's started to feel like it's really ours. The paint is just a sign of taking ownership, and it was fun to pick something without worrying about resale potential or alienating buyers (not that it's not a great, livable color!).

And because they are beautiful...

My gorgeous husband and our sweet (sick at the time) little boy...even rough mornings at our house aren't all bad. :)

And Matt with the bug at the National Western Stock Show, watching a rodeo clown. He wasn't a very funny clown but it was still an educational experience for the family.

Breathing.

It's about time that I attempted a return to blogging, methinks. I just caught up on several friends' blogs--about a month or two worth from each--and decided that I'll be trying daily blogging for Lent. More or less with the goal of doing something extra to connect to the special people in my life (friends and family) because I am way behind in all forms of communication, written, emailed, blogged, Facebooked, or otherwise.

To me Ash Wednesday has always seemed like New Year's Day--an excellent chance to begin again, to reflect on the past year, and to begin coming up with new organizational systems for improving myself, relationships with others, and my faith in the year ahead. And you all know how I love organizational systems!

Today I am especially thankful for my family's health. For those of you keeping up with other family members, you know the polliwog is just getting over pneumonia and Matt just about lost a finger this week. Today I am so glad we are all breathing regularly and are in one piece! I have a few minutes in my office to breathe before sprinting off to the next meeting, and want to know: how do you fit "breathing" into your daily routine? (And what does "taking a breath" mean to you?)