Included in her e-mail to us, among with the list of razors, socks, toothpaste and games, was information about a really cool program. United Through Reading collects gently used or new children’s books. Deployed parents are video taped reading the book aloud then the DVD and book are sent to the child so he or she can read along with his or her parent. How cool is that? I will be sending books and encourage you to check out the program, too. If you would like to send books directly to J’s unit, let me know and I will send you the information. Of course, if you would like to “adopt” a service person, I can get you information about that, too.

From J:

Another project that I am putting together here is asking for donations of gently used and/or new children’s books for ages 0-6 years, i.e., Thomas the Train, Mickey Mouse, Dora the Explorer, Curious George, Little Critters, etc. They have a program here that an airman can read a book and it is recorded via DVD and shipped with the book that has been read to their child. The problem is that that they do not have a lot of books for younger children and the time limit is 20 minutes per dvd. So some of the books that they do have will exceed the time limit when read. If anyone would like to send any books over here simply address them to me and I will be sure to get them into the program. Thank you for all help thus far with the care packages.

As the new girl on the block, all the attention is now on me and so are the vocalized observations. The most frequent proclamation made about me is, “Wow! You’re tall! How tall are you?” (Other common observations: You have blue eyes./Your poor dad has four daughters and a farm?/You’re not married?!)

I’m tall but I’m not the Jolly Green Giant or Shaq. I’m farm raised. We’re tall when I grew up.

While reading the latest Entertainment Weekly over the weekend I found my problem’s solution. I’m going to change my name.

In the spirit of a rapper of which I just discovered, you can now call me PomJob the 5′10.5″. It acknowledges that I am aware of my height and answers that pesky “How tall ARE you?” question.

Do you think Royce da 5′9″ will make a comment about my height?

*Kind of. Darn premature gray.

As such, my nephews are generally well-behaved in restaurants; they’ve had lots of experience.

Saturday evening’s dinner out at a seafood chain (who shall remain nameless and blameless) started off just fine, aside from one boy’s mad dash for the fire exit, the door of which proclaims in BIG RED LETTERS that an alarm will sound when opened, and another boy’s rapid ascent up an empty chair located below the BRIGHT RED fire alarm which enticed said boy.

The threat of civil penalties for tampering with lifesaving equipment that are not toys assuaged, we sat down for a lovely meal. Then boy one decides he has to go potty! And so does boy two. (What is it about dining out that induces bodily functions in children? If you ask if they have to go potty at home it’s all NOOOOOO! But there’s nothing more fun for a child than visiting a restaurant bathroom. Whee!) Being a good aunt, I voluntarily lead them back through the restaurant to the bathroom. Business is completed quickly and efficiently and we return to the table.

A few bites into our entrees, the boys decide they have to use the facilities again. I called nose-goes and their mother took her turn. Time passes. A LOT of time passes. We wonder what happened. That’s when our childhood friend Katie, a waitress at the restaurant, rushes to the table.

“Steph needs your mom right away. Something about throwing up or poop or something. I don’t know.”

Now, boy one has a very, very sensitive gag reflex, so we figured he was responsible. We were wrong.

As the merry, bladder-empty group opened the door to exit the restroom, a lady rushed in an VOMITED on nephew one. She said something about the food and proceeded to clean herself up. My sister cleaned the lady’s puke off of my nephew as best as she could then turned to leave. That’s when boy one slipped and fell back into the puke. He was covered in vomit. Meanwhile the lady stood at the sink and avoided eye contact.

The staff at the restaurant was wonderful - they helped clean up the nephew and gave us a generous discount on the food. They even gave the nephew two aprons to wear around his waist so he wouldn’t have to finish his meal pantsless, which was really his only option - his pants were covered. (He thought he was pretty cool stuff when he finally got back to the table. Which is good because we thought he would be embarrassed. Nope, he was all, “Look at me, guys!! Some lady threw up on me, then I fell in it. Haha!” Boys.)

Meanwhile, the vomiter quietly slipped out of the bathroom and returned to her table without saying a word to my sister or anyone at the restaurant who had to clean up her regurgitated dinner.

Moral of the story: when you throw up on a little kid, don’t be an asshole. Apologize.

(Postscript: Katie posted on Facebook the next day that she got a speeding ticket on the way to work. I couldn’t resist commenting that at least someone hadn’t thrown up on her. Who’s the asshole now?)

Water for Elephants is the story of a veterinary student who, upon finding out he can’t afford his tuition, joins a traveling circus as the animal caretaker. He finds friendship, love and the battle of his life along the way. Author Sara Gruen thoroughly researched the circus lifestyle of the 1920s and did an excellent job of painting a picture of the camaraderie between the employees and animals and the abuse they suffered along the way. If you haven’t yet read the book, I highly recommend it. Anyone want to join me at the movie theater?

Source: New York Daily News

Meanwhile, the same ecstatic fans were outraged when right fielder Jayson Werth followed the money to the Nationals, where he signed a $126 million seven year contract. The Nationals don’t have a stellar reputation and aren’t likely World Series bound in 2011. Phillies fans feel he sold out. The local Fox station posted this on Facebook:

FOX 29 If you care, Jayson Werth is having his official press conference in Washington at 1 pm. You can watch it on MLB.com.

Source: Getty/MLB

The beauty of Facebook is seeing the random thoughts of friends and acquaintances from across the country. Some are Phillies fans, some are Yankees fans, some are Nationals fans. And a lot of people have op-ined on this topic. I’m not an avid fan, but sports are hard to ignore in the home of the Phillies, Flyers and Eagles. As an observer, it’s interesting to see peoples’ reactions to sports deals.

Would you pass up $30 million for your happiness? Or would you join the highest bidder’s team?

And, how do you feel about Michael Vick’s first commercial endorsement since his brouhaha?

There are people who rush to the doctor for every sniffle and headache. We are not those people. In fact, it took my parents a week to decide maybe the ankle I “sprained” rollerskating wasn’t really sprained but rather fractured. Not because of neglect; they just think things will heal on their own.

Meanwhile, my sister is also in the hospital.

And so is my newest nephew, Peyton. Love!

My Codes spent a few days in Philly with me while his daddy hunted bear and mommy worked. After tuckering him out at the park and library, he fell asleep sitting up in my wooden dining room chair while waiting for me to make him lunch. Later, we changed into footie pajamas and snuggled on the couch. Yes, I own footie pajamas. (I may or may not own more than one pair. It’s not my fault.) I understand why people want these little people so much. My heart melted when he toddled over and wrapped his arms around my legs as I washed dishes. What a sweet boy!

I love a good bad holiday movie. Love, love, love. The Christmas season is the only time I miss my cable subscription (but I don’t miss the bill). With star-crossed lovers, a humorous conflict, a cute kid or two (who may or may not have lost a parent), animals, snow, elves and a happy ending, what’s not to love?

And so, I present to you my Top 5  Must-See 25 Days of Christmas Movies:

Honorable Mention: Christmas Cupid

This made-for-TV movie looks cute, and it could be a contender for my upcoming top made-for-TV holiday movies list. I’ll pass judgment after its Dec. 12 premier.

5. How the Grinch Stole Christmas

It would be mean to not include Dr. Suess’s classic tale about the miracle in Whoville. My heart grows every time I see it.

4. Polar Express

I believe! The Polar Express holds a special place in my heart and a spot on the list because my nephews are OBSESSED with trains, and it’s a heartwarming story. Choo choo.

3. Miracle on 34th Street

An update of the 1940s holiday classic puts Santa on trial and a little girl (and the yummy Dylan McDermott) comes to his rescue.

2. The Santa Claus

Tim “the Tool Man” Allen exchanges his tool belt for a spare tire when Santa falls off his roof and he’s forced to man Santa’s sleigh.

1. Home Alone 2

Almost as funny as the original, Home Alone 2 is one of my go-to movies no matter the season. In fact, when I didn’t have broadcast TV in college, I watched this movie over and over again as I fell asleep. In this edition, Kevin mistakenly boards a plane to New York City while the rest of the McCallisters take Miami for the holidays. Kevin spies the bumbling burglars from the original movie in the Big Apple and accepts the mission to protect the city while calling The Plaza home-base. With Tim Curry, you can’t lose - unless you’re the Wet Bandits.

Are you a fan of the 25 Days of Christmas? Which movie are you most looking forward to?

Yesterday while shopping with my sister for a few finishing touches for her Christmas decorations, I made the choice to spend a few of my saved pennies to buy a Diet Dr Pepper - 158 of them to be exact. I pulled from my wallet two $1 bills and handed them to the cashier. He started making change and paused as he reached the penny compartment of the till.

“Do you want your pennies?” he asked.

In short, yes. I want my pennies. When did a penny lose its value? I support the “Take a penny, leave a penny” bins upon occasion and often donate my leftover change to random charity buckets sitting on the counter. But right now I need to save all the pennies I can. The job search isn’t going well, my mortgage is due and any day now I’m going to have a new nephew who needs presents for being born (and to commemorate the birth of the Baby Jesus). Pennies are flying out of my pocketbook and their replacements aren’t jumping back in. I’m not exactly in the mood to beg for my money from a high school senior.

If this was an isolated incident I may not have spent so much time thinking about his query. A similar interaction happened a few months ago at a little deli near my former office. I bought a bag of 99-cent chips and the cashier asked for a dollar. I asked for my change back and she looked at me with disdain before re-opening the register and handing over a penny.

Both businesses are family owned. I’m happy to patronize the stores and support “Main Street” America. My parents are small business owners and I understand it’s tough going right now. Customer service is more important than ever, and its one area in which locally owned businesses usually exceed lower-priced big box stores. Wouldn’t it be better to give back too much change than not enough? I can’t help but think that I’ve never had to ask for change at a big name store.

I’m not sure why this bothers me.  Do kids these days not associate value with one cent currency?  Am I making a mountain out of a penny? Was the kid yesterday almost out of pennies and didn’t feel like cracking open another roll before closing? Do I feel bad for Honest Abe? I bet he wouldn’t withhold change.

Who knows, but I still have those pennies in my pocket going jingle, linga, ling.

Would you tell the cashier to keep the pennies? Is the penny dead?

A few days ago, I returned home after a visit to my parents and saw my neighbor.

“Oh good, you’re alive,” he said.

“Um yeah, hi, good to see you,” I said.

“You had the whole neighborhood worried.”

“?? Well, I was at my parents’ for a few days,” I said.

“Do you realize you left your key in the front door?”

“Oh no -”

“And your front door wide open.”

“!!!”

“We weren’t sure what happened, so we called the police last night. They came and did a walk through - everything’s OK, all your stuff’s there - and we locked the door. I have your key.”

I heaped thanks on the neighbors and continued unloading the car.

Around 11 that night, my doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting company and my house had just been unlocked for FOUR DAYS, so I was kind of afraid of who was out there. I peeked out the window and saw a PPD car.

Turns out, the officer who responded to my neighbor’s call was so worried he drove by the next night. When he saw a car in the driveway, he stopped to make sure I was OK. He reassured me that they checked out the house and everything was fine and asked a few questions - like was that hole in the bedroom door new? (No, other evidence leads me to believe there was domestic violence in the house before I bought it.) And he warned me to lock my doors because I do live in INNER-CITY Philadelphia.

I feel really bad for causing concern for no reason. l I still have NO idea how I managed to not only leave my front door unlocked, with the key in the lock, but also hanging wide open. I know I was in a hurry and remembered something I needed after I was in the car but I can’t believe I didn’t re-lock the door. You can bet I will triple-check locks from here on out.

Have you ever done something to worry an entire neighborhood?

(PS - I’m heading to New Orleans soon. Do you have any advice or suggestions? Thanks!)