When Did I Get So Stupid?

Before you offer an opinion, let me explain.

At dinner last month, Harper told us about this "really awesome" song she danced to during Music and Movement class at school.

Harper: "It's about a fox."

Nick: "Was it 'What Does the Fox Say?'"

Harper: "Yes, yes, yes! That was it!"

Me, blank stare: "What does the what say? That's a song?"

Nick, looking incredulous: "You are so out of touch with pop culture."

He was kind enough to find this strange little song on youtube so I could hear what everyone else on the planet thought was cool last fall. Here it is for those of you who, like me, have existed under a rock for the past six months.

This is seriously disturbing, right?

But here's the thing: I rarely have a chance to actually engage with pop culture. In the car, the girls are either forcing me to listen to some inane cartoon on the DVD player or demanding I play Taylor Swift's song "22" for the 4,146th time.

If the television is on at home, it's usually tuned to one of the Juniors - Nick or Disney. I occasionally squeeze in a DVRed episode of "Parenthood" in 15-minute increments during the day, and Nick and I sometimes manage to watch a not-fit-for-children-let-alone-adults TV show after the girls go to bed. But mostly we just collapse in a heap.

So no, I have no clue what's popular or trending or being discussed at the water cooler. My day-to-day interactions with pop culture consist largely of contemplating where Max and Ruby's parents are and organizing Barbie fashion shows. It's understandable that I'm a bit out of touch.

What's not as excusable is my new found inability to read.

I'm only admitting to this because Nick threatened to go public if I didn't. And I'm sure he wouldn't frame my mistakes in an appropriate or remotely flattering light. So here goes.

First and completely by accident, I bought a book written by Glenn Beck. If you know me at all, you'll quickly recognize that his conservative opinions aren't exactly my cup of tea.

That must be why Nick laughed so uproariously when I returned from a news stand in the Atlanta airport with "Agenda 21" in tow. Seriously - people were stopping to stare at the spectacle.

Nick, laughing uncontrollably: "You bought a Glenn Beck book?"  

Me: "No, I didn't. This is a fictional book, not political. Must just be a guy with the same name." 

Nick, laughing even harder now: "Nope, that's written by the Glenn Beck. The same one you rail against. Check out the author information."

Me: "Oh. Oh, no."

And so, head hung down in shame, I ambled back to the news stand to inquire about an exchange. Nick was still laughing when I got back.

Keep in mind this occurred when we were flying to Wichita to buy a house. I was a bit distracted. I think that at least partially explains my lack of attention to detail. However, there's really no good excuse for my next goof up.

I bought "A Song of Fire and Ice" when Google Play put it on sale back around Christmas. Nick and I had both read the first book, "Game of Thrones," a couple of years ago and we were going to take turns reading the rest of the books. Then we could join everyone else we know and start watching the TV show.

So I dove right into the second book, all the while declaring that I should have reread the first book because there was a lot of details I had forgotten. Even so, I enjoyed it and was anxious to discuss it with Nick.

After Nick started the second book, I would periodically ask him what was happening. He'd give me a quick plot summary. I'd just smile and nod because I had no idea what he was talking about. I had no recollection of the chapter he was describing.

I figured I must have skipped a couple of chapters, and eventually he'd start recounting events I recognized. When he finished the second book, I asked him what he thought. He gave a noncommittal, "It was pretty good."

"What?!" I basically shouted. "That's your reaction to all that happened in book two? What did you think about (major plot development)?"

Turns out, I ended up giving away a big spoiler since I had READ THE WRONG BOOK. Somehow, I just skipped book two altogether and went straight to book three.

How? How could I have done this? A better question - why did I not double check when the material I was reading didn't make any sense?

Seriously. I'm worried about myself peeps. Is it Kansas making me stupid? Is senility setting in early?

I don't know, but I do think Harper's teacher should check my car before I leave school to make sure I'm actually taking the right kid home.

Five Things I Never Thought I'd Do Before I Moved to Kansas

Admittedly, my last two posts have been sentimental and information heavy. So here's a (hopefully) more lighthearted look at five things I never thought I'd ever do before landing in Wichita.

1. Miss cloudy days

As I think I've mentioned, Kansas gets more sunshine than Florida. On the surface, this seems like a good thing. But consider this scenario:

You glance outside and see the sun shining brightly in a big blue sky that stretches from horizon to horizon. "What a gorgeous day! I think I'll go for a walk." Sure, it's February, so it'll be brisk. But it's worth it for a few minutes in that beautiful sunshine.

You put on your shoes and coat, open the front door and step outside. Suddenly, you can't breathe, your eyes sting and your face feels like it's just been slapped by a glacier.

That's because it's 8 degrees and the wind is blowing at a steady 15 mph. That means it feels so much colder. Like at least -37.

Seriously. The sunshine is entirely misleading. It's false advertising. When it's that cold, it should be gray and overcast. Just saying.

2. Navigate by water tower

I hate finding my way around hotels. Nick can attest - it doesn't matter if it's the Hampton Inn or a really swanky place in NYC. There's a 100 percent chance that I will get lost trying to find our room, the lobby, the pool, wherever. The corridors all look alike, and it confuses my already overtaxed brain. Problem is, Kansas is similar. Everything looks the same. All the roads are straight, and there are no significant landmarks to guide you in the right direction.

Yes, I know. I could just navigate by direction. Most right-thinking people seem to prefer that method. But it just takes too much thought for me. I'd rather have an object (like a mountain, perhaps?) to use as a compass.

Sadly, Kansas is severely lacking in the mountain department. But I'm resourceful, so I've adapted. I've learned that watertowers make servicable guideposts. You can see them for miles, so it's usually easy to figure out which way you should - or shouldn't - be going. I just had to remember that the one in Goddard is blue, the one at Harper's school is white and the one in Maize is sort of a weird shape.

These days, I've pretty much figured out how to get where I want to go, but those water towers came in quite helpful during our first few weeks in Wichita.

Beacons of hope in a barren landscape.
(Incidentally, the temperature was 18 degrees
on the day this photo was taken.)

3. Buy bottled water

When I was working for the newspaper, I interviewed a man who had decided to move to Kingsport following retirement. On his list of positives about Northeast Tennessee? Good water.

This was perplexing. There's Eastman. And BAE. And whatever they're calling the paper mill these days. How could anyone consider the water in Kingsport to be "good?"

Well, after moving to Wichita, I now understand what "good" water is. I'm sure the city water that runs into our house is completely safe to drink, but it tastes terrible. Sort of musty. How can water taste like that? It's water. It shouldn't really taste like anything.

I have no idea why it tastes so yucky, but it's bottled water for the Adams family. Or maybe a filtration system. We'll see.

4. Dread driving across town

In the few short months we've lived here, it seems I've become a "true" Wichitan. You see, locals here have an aversion to driving anywhere if it takes longer than 10 minutes. Therefore, people are either east siders or west siders. You have pretty much the same stores and restaurants on each side of town. They're like mirror images. The symmetry is kind of weird.

Because of the similarities, you shouldn't have to cross the ArKANSAS River unless you just want to take a day trip to the other side of town. Keep in mind that it only takes about 25 minutes to get from where I live - which is about as far west as you can go and still be in Wichita - to my favorite eastside haunt: the big Joann Fabric store.

When we lived in Kingsport, it took at least 15 minutes to get to Kroger or Target. And I had to drive across a ridge on a two-lane road. So why do I suddenly find myself putting off east-side errands because I don't feel like driving ALL the way over there on a four lane?

Wow. Assimilation happened fast.

5. Wear cowboy boots

Well, you know what they say. When in Rome. Or Wichita.....

So we took a road trip....

Last week, Harper, Nick and I headed out for Kansas City. It wasn't a trip for fun, but it was the first time I'd ventured out of Wichita since arriving in September. It was good to see a different flat, brown landscape for a few hours.

We went to KC for Harper's first appointment at the spina bifida clinic at Children's Mercy Hospital. It was basically an all-day affair. We stayed in a hotel. We ate in restaurants. If Harper hadn't been so sick with a cold, she might have actually enjoyed our little quasi-vacation.

As it was though, she just felt rotten. She was a trooper though, and handled the revolving door of nurses, doctors, social workers, dietitians, physical therapists and orthotists quite patiently. Really wish I could say the same for myself.

We never had this experience in Tennessee where you have to be Medicaid eligible to qualify for a special care clinic like this. Since we weren't, we got to coordinate all those disciplines separately and schedule individual appointments with each doc or clinic or therapist or whatever she needed at the time. We drove to Knoxville and Nashville a lot. In Kansas, we come to clinic only once a year, unless something comes up. It's obviously much better.

Even though it was much more convenient, my head was spinning when we left. We got a lot of information, met a lot of people, discovered doctors we liked and others we didn't and determined the hospital's parking garage is an impenetrable fortress that seriously needs way finding signage. And this is coming from two people who used to work at Holston Valley Medical Center, which everyone from Kingsport will recognize as the world's most confusing hospital.

Most significantly, we decided that Harper will have surgery this summer to correct congenital deformities in both her feet. It's been a year since her last surgery, and surgery number 11 is now on the horizon. No reason for worry. We've done this plenty of times before, right? Wrong.

Because the surgeon will actually break her foot and ankle bones to realign them, she'll have to wear casts on both feet for six weeks and then protective braces for a few weeks after that. You're right. Holy four-letter-word is the correct response here.

At least the surgeon had the courtesy to point out that her recovery won't be any fun. Some surgeons describe procedures not unlike an oil change or tune up. I honestly had a surgeon describe a procedure not unlike this:

"Well, I'll just have to get in there and open her up and see if I can find her appendix. The whole thing shouldn't take too long, and she'll be up and running around again in a day or two."

I've known for some time that we would have to surgically address Harper's feet, but I had hoped it wouldn't be this soon. The orthopedic surgeon made a good case for doing it sooner rather than later so we can keep her upright and walking. Waiting til she's older risks skin breakdown and pressure sores in her feet which would prevent her from walking at all. Not good.

I still haven't figured out how this "Harper can't walk" thing is going to work. We've never had a truly handicapped accessible house since she can negotiate most places fairly independently. We may have to make some temporary modifications to the house so she can get around safely in her wheelchair, and I don't have to hire a live-in chiropractor to keep my back functioning.

She took the news of her impending surgery with as much grace as a five-year-old can muster. She's not thrilled, but seems to understand we wouldn't ask her to do this if it wasn't absolutely necessary. (And I promised a really good gift. The Barbie Glam Jet was mentioned as an appropriate reward.) Of course, she hasn't yet realized that she won't be able to swim, ride a bike or play at the park for six long weeks. I'm not going to clarify that point until I absolutely must.

No, it wasn't the surgery that left the biggest impression on Harper. It was the meal we had while driving KC. We planed to stop for dinner once we got on the road, but we quickly discovered there's just not a lot between here and there. Our dining options were limited to say the least.

Lucky for us, we happened upon a buffet restaurant called the Sirloin Stockade in a little town called Ottawa. It seemed similar to a Shoney's or a Ryan's. It was crowded for a Tuesday night. Couldn't be that bad, right?

Admit it - you would have eaten here, too.

Holy heartburn, Batman! Nick and I ate some fried food, a salad-y mix of vegetables and cheese and bacon, and we each had a piece of apple pie. It wasn't healthy at all or even all that good, but it was sustenance. Harper had chicken tenders, green beans and mac and cheese. She was a happy little girl.

Her happiness increased exponentially when she discovered the chocolate fountain on the dessert bar. She has told anyone who will listen about the chocolate fountain. She's a fan.

I did a little research on the ol' Sirloin Stockade after our visit and discovered why it was so crowded that night. As one Facebook reviewer wrote:

"there's not much choices here in ottawa. but at least we have this one :)"

Yep. That sums it up quite nicely.

But given we'll be making additional trips to KC in the coming months, I daresay we'll be frequenting the Sirloin Stockade again. And since sticking a pink marshmallow into a fountain of melted chocolate brings my little girl such joy, I'll happily eat here as often as she likes - or my intestinal tract allows.

And because I didn't manage to take any pictures anyone would be remotely interested in during our trip, here's a look at Harper during several of her previous surgeries.

This was right after her back closure. She's still on a ventillator and probably about three days old.

This was after her shunt malfunctioned. It was removed and externalized until her cerebral spinal fluid could be cultured. She had another surgery to replace the shunt three days later. She was five months old.

This was her most recent - and hopefully last - facial surgery. She's not as puny as she looks in this picture. I think she was mad because I made her stop playing to take a photo.

After surgery to place a MACE for bowel irrigation. She was pretty puny here, but she hadn't eaten anything but Jello for three days.