Friday, March 31, 2006

Crash. Bang, Sputter

Yet another excuse for not blogging...we were rear ended yesterday by a huge delivery truck. At first blush the car seemed OK except for some dents, and the kids were fine but distressed because their pretzels fell to the floor. But when I went to start my car this morning...sputter. Dead, dead, dead. I can only assume the two events are related, although I can't begin to fathom how. M is speculating that the gas tank got punctured, yippee!

Anyway, long story sort, I have been spending the better part of the day dealing with insurance companies, towing companies, and garages.

Some bonus conversations for you:

At preschool while I am frantically trying to get M's car to start with no avail and swearing up a storm while frantically punching buttons on my cell phone to arrange for A to get picked up from school:

C: "Mommy, why are you using your key in Daddy's car? I think that's your problem."

Mommy: "C, I love you. You are so smart. Thank you."

C: "You're welcome. You didn't have your coffee this morning, did you?"

While singing to C at quiet time today:

C: "Mommy, Daddy's voice is rougher than yours when he sings. And mine is softer. In fact mine is so soft that Mrs. K said she couldn't hear me singing today. I have the softest voice ever."

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Outdoor Blogging

I am sitting on my back stoop watching C dig for worms and A throw balls around the yard with abandon. The onset of spring-like weather has made us all much happier people, me in particular. I wish it could be like this all year round. I really, really don't think I would miss the winter at all.

Anyway, I'm slowly catching up on things, blogging and laundry included. But right now I'm going to go teach C to play t-ball before quiet time.

Monday, March 27, 2006

Lessons Learned

Some lessons learned from the Spring Carnival:

When someone tells you that she needs ten pounds of paper cut into one inch strips, ask to see her math. Anyone need some strips of paper? It's pretty...I'll send it for free!

When cutting said strips of paper, a shredder works much better and faster than a dull pair of safety scissors.

Email is an underrated form of communication among mommies. It should really be used more frequently as, unlike the telephone, when using email others can't hear your children screaming at the top of their lungs.

Preschool teachers are dreadfully underpaid and underappreciated.

There are mommies who pull through in a crunch. Make friends with these mommies. They will save your ass when you realize you don't have enough plastic cups for the fourteen four year olds staring at you expecting juice. These same mommies will spend a Sunday night attaching fake bugs to fishing line, making hopscotch squares and creating elaborate rules to keep children occupied at a blowup pool. Some of them may even bring some wine.

Never underestimate the power of a Box of Joe to ensure that mommies who are not your carefully cultivated friends will claim that one is the best.spring.carnival.coordinator.ever.

Every preschool function needs an artsy craftsy mom in attendance. They have magical powers to fix many things using paper clips, tape, and Elmer's Glue.

And perhaps the biggest lesson learned:

Annoying people don't go away just because you take charge. They just get more annoying.

2:23 AM

A: (Hysterical) "Mommy! Mommy! Mommmmeeeeeeeee!"

Mommy: (Rushing to A's bed as fast as she can): "A, what's wrong? What's wrong?"

A: (Sobbing) "I sit on potty. I sit on poteeeeee!"

Mommy: "You're kidding me, right?"

A: "I sit on poteeeeee! Mommy, I peeeee."

Mommy: (After briefly debating the consequences of ignoring the request) Sigh. "OK."
Mommy troops A to the potty. A pees. Mommy troops A back to bed.

A: "Yeah! I did it! Nigh nigh Mommy."

Mommy: "Night night A.

As if A really needed another reason to get up the middle of the night. This is a joke, right? A big, cosmic joke. I am no longer so pleased with A's early interest in the potty.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

More Spring Carnival Fun

I have nothing of import to say beyond:


That's my public service announcement for the century.

This is over Wednesday and hopefully I can return to my normal, lazy self. If I don't make it over to visit anyone's blog before then, please don't be offended. Know that I would much rather be writing comments to all of you rather than cutting up construction paper. Yes, I am still cutting. Although I made the paper shredder my friend this afternoon. It may be my very best friend for the next few days.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

It was meant to be

As I continue to cut paper into one inch strips....

Your True Love Is a Taurus

Why you'll love a Taurus:

Romantic and sentimental, a Taurus can provide you with the security you need.
And you both share a fondness for the finest things, from great food to luxury vacations.

Why a Taurus will love you:

You have the honesty and direct approach that down to earth Taurus desires.
And enough elegance to show a Taurus a few new decadent delights!

M, it was clearly meant to be! Take the test, I dare you!

BTW, where is my luxury vacation????

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Separation Anxiety

C: "Mommy, when I'm a grownup and I move away I will miss you very much."

Mommy: "I'll miss you very much too."

C: "Will you come visit me and my kids?"

Mommy: "Of course I will."

C: "Maybe when I grow up the kids in the house behind us will move and I can live right there. Then I won't even need to call you to come get me so I can cross the street. I can just climb through the bushes."

If you don't have anything nice to say...

...don't say anything at all. I'm giving this adage a whirl instead of subjecting y'all to whines about the stupid out of control Spring Carnival and yet another post on our sleep woes. I have much to say about the stupid out of control Spring Carnival and the seriousness with which parents are taking this event for children under the age of five, but it will have to wait until I finish cutting up 10 pounds of construction paper into one-inch pieces. I kid you not.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Overheard at bedtime

C: "Mommy, you know how I said I was going to listen to you when I turned four?"

Mommy: "Yes, I do."

C: "Well, I think I made a mistake. I think I will listen to you when I turn five."

A: "Mommy?"

Mommy: "Yes A?"

A: "Danks."

Mommy: "Thanks for what?"

A: "Danks for mommy."

It totally made up for the 45 minute scream fest because I dared to put a protein source on her plate at dinner.

A Meme to pass the day

A meme to pass the day, versions of which have been seen at Just Another Day and Phantom Scribbler, among others...

Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.

How does the world see me?
Lonesome Joan, Frank Oz and Jim Henson

I always suspected my real name was Joan....

Will I have a happy life?
Barcelona Nights, Ottmar Liebert

Does this mean I have to move to Spain? I took French, not Spanish.

What do my friends really think of me?
Swing on This, Alice in Chains


Do people secretly lust after me?
There's a Little Wheel a Turning in my Heart, Laurie Berkner

If only it wasn't a children's song.

How can I make myself happy?
Cross that River, Alan Harris

I guess that means we have to move back to NYC honey...

What should I do with my life?
Satellite, Dave Mathews Band

Perhaps I should have gone for the Astrophysics major after all.

What is some good advice for me?
Toad, Cream

I don't even know what to do with that one. Look ugly? Gee, that's fun. Grow a wart? Even funner.

How will I be remembered?
Popcorn Calling Me, Laurie Berkner

I do like popcorn....and what is up with my iPod and Laurie? Obviously I haven't figured out how to get the kids songs out of my shuffle yet.

What is my signature dancing song?
Idiot Wind, Bob Dylan

Can one even dance to that???

What do I think my current theme song is?
I'm Sensitive, Jewel

Too true, too true.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Long Train Running, the Doobie Brothers

We DO spend a lot of time conversing about and playing with trains around here....

What song will play at my funeral?
Brown Derby Jump, Cherry Poppin' Daddies

At least it is upbeat??

What type of men/women do I like?
Birds and Ships, Billy Bragg and Natalie Merchant

Well, M does come from a family of sailors. And my first serious boyfriend was a sailor too. Birds though? Not so into birds. Especially with the bird flu and all...

What is my day going to be like?
Never Too Late, Yanni

I guess that means I don't have to worry about the fact that we were late (again) to preschool? I'll have to tell the teachers that my iPod said it was OK on Wednesday.

What one thing could I not live without?
Pease Porridge Hot, Music Together

I do like my oatmeal in the morning.

It was nice while it lasted

A is back to her regular horrific sleep habits. At least I had a few days of lovely sleep. But don't expect much bloggy greatness from me right now. I have lots to say, but not much energy to devote to putting it into words. So I'll just blog in my imagination. Hold on - yep, that was a good one. My imaginary blog friends liked it too. Perhaps I'll actually enter it into Blogger one of these days so all of you can enjoy it too....

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Ahhhh....the quiet

C had a wonderful birthday party. No children got hurt, no major toy sharing fights broke out, and everyone except Julia cheated on pin the ice cream cone on Curious George. C got many cool toys, all with small, choking hazard parts which attract A like a moth to a flame. Lucy the babysitter said he was up for hours reliving the party and the present haul.

The cupcakes turned out on the first try, although there are still a dozen sitting on my counter. Damn you mommies on diets for bathing suit season! Cupcake decorating was a huge hit with the four and under set, and my kitchen was miraculously clean, considering. Thank you mommies for supervising your offspring so well! It almost makes up for the pounds that will be accumulating on my hips instead of yours.

M and I had a lovely dinner, and I had the most amazing after-dinner tea ever. Our waiter was kind enough to tell M exactly how to Google the seller, who must be the last store on the face of the earth not do sell via the Internet. So we will be calling bright and early to order me large quantities of tea. Even if the food had been awful I would have gone back for the tea. It was that good.

I'm now off to find the 40 billion missing toy pieces that I failed to adequately hide. Of particular import are the missing Little People from A's dollhouse. She has been staring at it and crying "lillil baby, air are dou?" for the past fifteen minutes.

And for future reference, 18 children are a spot too many to have in one's home for two hours. We will have to cut down our list before next year...

Thursday, March 16, 2006


If I were a smart mommy I would currently be whipping through my house cleaning for tomorrow's birthday party. Instead, here I sit at the computer checking my email and catching up on my blog reading.

If I were an organized mommy I would be taking away all of the toys with many small, hard to find parts in an attempt to try and mitigate the havoc that the 18 children descending on my house tomorrow afternoon will wreak. Instead I am eying the menu of the new restaurant M and I are trying tomorrow night trying to decide whether I want the tuna or the sea scallops. Rebecca, suggestions?

If I were a proactive mommy I would be making cupcakes, just in case I have another baking disaster forcing me to run to the supermarket at the last minute. Instead I am sipping my wine and debating whether to start looking for a babysitter so I can head back to work (it was one of those days).

Unfortunately, I am a lazy mommy and will put all these things off until tomorrow. Ice cream anyone?


A has stayed dry all morning and even deposited her before lunch poop in the potty! I'm a bit befuddled by the whole thing, it's not like I had any expectations that she would even begin potty training until 2 and a half. While clearly we might still have a ways to go here, do you think this is her way of rewarding me for putting up with her nighttime antics? While I still would prefer a good night's sleep, a relatively painless potty training experience would go a long way towards making up for the sleep deprivation.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Quick updates

Cupcakes were delivered to school, almost on time. And they were almost edible. Meaning that the children ate them but the teachers sent theirs back home with C. For which I can't blame them. Would you really eat cupcakes frosted with DARK red frosting? It took an entire bottle of food coloring to turn the icing just the right shade of fire engine red. Truly scary.

I'm on Day 2 (or is it 3?) of single parenting, with one (or is it 2?) more to go. Tempers are a bit short over here, and C put himself to sleep by muttering "I get soooo mad when mommy doesn't listen to me. I tell her over and over again that I don't WANT to go to bed and she puts me there anyway." Pause for a sob sob sniff sniif, and then repeat.

Wags the Dog has been banished from A's room after today's Wiggles episode when Wags poured water over Captain Feathersword's head. A is now afraid that Wags will sneak off to the bathroom in the middle of the night and douse her as well. I can't say as I discouraged this image, as the thought of not waking up in the middle of the night to Wags singing as A rolled over on top of him was just too wondrous to resist. I can sometimes be a very selfish person.

And with that I am off to bed. Sleep tight Wags. I hear the playroom floor is quite comfortable once you get used to it.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Old Dogs

I am currently surveying the disaster that is my kitchen. In less than 12 hours I need to be walking through the doors of C's preschool with 16 cupcakes or other such treat in hand to celebrate his birthday. So far, I'm 0 for 2 in the baking department today. And quickly running out of ingredients to try again.

I fully admit that baking is not my forte. I can whip up many, many other courses without blinking an eye, but hand me a mixer and a cupcake pan and I freeze like a deer in headlights. So the household baking is left to M, who adores it and has a fair amount of culinary talent in the area. But as M has jetted off to Las Vegas on business, I am stuck dealing with the need to provide celebratory substance to a class full of three and four year olds on my own.

One would think I would have learned my lesson after last year's holiday debacles. I should have just headed downtown this afternoon and picked something up at the local bakery. But I've always thought that birthdays should involve homemade cakes and goodies, and therefore felt obligated to bake. So I took both kids to the grocery store to purchase the ingredients needed to make cupcakes and frosting. Or at least the ingredients I thought one needed to make such things.

Upon returning home and actually LOOKING at the recipes, I realized that, duh, butter cream frosting requires, get this, butter. And in an effort to improve M's horrific cholesterol numbers, we don't actually keep such things in our house anymore. Thank god for good friends, as instead of shlepping both kids back to the store I was able to drive twice as far and raid Rebecca's fridge.

Once the kids were in bed, I began to bake. And I had illusions of baking grander, as instead of just pouring batter into little paper wrappers, I decided to get all creative and bake them into ice cream cones. Ice cream cones, paper wrappers, what's the difference, right?

Wrong. Apparently batter takes much longer to cook in ice cream cones than it does in paper wrappers. And thank god I was unable to resist biting into one of the finished products, or else I would have been serving raw cupcake batter to a squadron of children who would not have hesitated to make the icky face and spit out the goo. And you KNOW I would have forever been known to C's friends as "the one who served us raw cupcakes."

I am now awaiting the second set of cupcakes to emerge from the oven, and if they are a dismal failure as well I am seriously contemplating calling C in sick. What else can I do? I can't possibly show up for his birthday party with no goodies in hand.

Next year I swear I am delegating this to the bakery. Someone remind me, please????

Monday, March 13, 2006

Career Choice Number 1

While swinging at the park today, A looked up at the sky and exclaimed: "I flee to moon! In rockit! I be asternot!" That's my girl. Think big. Even if it gives your mommy heart palpitations to think of watching you blasted into orbit aboard an explosion waiting to happen....

I pee pee in potty!

A has successfully gotten pee into the potty three times the morning after anouncing she had to go. Let the potty training games begin...

The third night was not the charm

Well, last night was not a rousing success as although A did still sleep until 6:30, she did so in our bed. Which is fine with me (hey, I don't have to get up to soothe her) but not so fine with M. But since he is gone for the rest of the week and will get many nice nights of sleep in a quiet hotel room and many yummy meals out, I don't feel all that bad that A spent the night kicking him in the ribs. Sorry sweetie....she kicked me in the ribs for nine months. Imagine what it felt like from the inside.
Despite the bed-sharing I am still considering the jammies a success as a 6:30am wake up is much much better that a 5am. One has to have faith, right?

Sunday, March 12, 2006

If this was really the key...

to A's sleeping success then I will squarely kick myself for shivering all winter. Day two of the A in cotton jammies was even more successful than day one. She slept. Through the night. 8pm to 6:30 am. Did you read that? Just to make sure you did the math right, that's ten and a half hours of sleep. In a row. Well worth kicking the heat up a few degrees at night when the cold inevitably returns next week.

Phantom, if you haven't already done so, may I recommend that you get yourself to Old Navy or Carters or where ever and pick up some cheap cotton jammies? It's worth a shot. I'm still not totally convinced that this isn't just a fluke, but if this trend continues, Gina, I'll be calling on you to solve all my intractable parenting dilemmas...

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Credit where credit is due

I have a few "I was wrong, you were right" admissions to make, along with a few "I should have tried this sooner" acknowledgements, so I figured I would get them all out there at once for the whole internet to enjoy.

Gina, I bow down to your mommy instincts. We put A in cotton jammies last night instead of the heavy-duty "it is 50 degrees in our house at night" blanket sleeper, and she only woke up once and slept until 6:45. While clearly we will need more nights of experimentation to discover if this is a trend in the making, I still thank you from the bottom of my heart for at least one good night's sleep. I feel almost human.

For my birthday my inlaws sent me this -the Magic Bullet. It sat on my dining room table for several weeks, until M finally got sick of a kitchen appliance sitting on the dining room table and unpacked it. When I had initially unwrapped the gift, I had been a bit disappointed as I had asked for a new super-duper crockpot (oh yeah, I go wild for my birthday). I now fully admit that despite its "I saw it on an infomercial" beginnings, the Magic Bullet is actually a very handy thing. I've already used it three times this week. It did a decent job of chopping herbs as well as whipping up some lovely aiolis, and basically earned the right to continue taking up prime real estate on my kitchen counter. And although I can't imagine a scenario in which I will use the included "party mugs", I guess one should never say never...

M has been telling me for weeks that I should take a morning and head to the salon for a pedicure. I've been pooh poohing him and heading for the grocery store instead when someone else is in charge of the children. I mean, I had to keep at least ONE of my New Years resolutions. But yesterday both kids were actually in school at the same time for the first time since before Christmas, and instead of going to the store I somehow found myself turning into the nail salon parking lot. I emerged an hour and a half later with not only hot pink toenails, but waxed eyebrows and neat finger nails with no dirt under them! And it was much better than the grocery store, even the waxing part. Well, maybe not the exact moment when they ripped the hair out of my skin, but the end result was still lovely despite the moment(s) of pain.

Just about a year ago my primary care doctor carefully suggested that my chest pain and palpitations might in fact be symptoms of post-partum anxiety after ruling out many other possible medical conditions. As I was almost a year post-childbirth and everyone had told me that I had made the transition to two children better than anyone they knew, I insisted that it couldn't possibly be the issue. Now that I am am almost a year post-weaning, I feel better than I have since about eight weeks after A was born. Almost normal. No chest pain, very few palpitations, and negligible anxiety. While I can't say that the palpitations are gone, they are definitely much less present than they were a year ago, and very clearly tied to the PMS phase of my menstrual cycle. Which would lead one to believe that my body just did a really crappy job of hormone regulation post-childbirth and weaning, and that Dr. A was in fact correct in her diagnosis.

Phew. Glad to have gotten those things off my chest. I can now get back to contemplating cleaning the house and folding the laundry. It's an exciting day Chez J-E.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

The Mommy Friendship

When I joined our playgroup many moons ago, I immediately formed opinions of each mommy, as I think anyone in a group situation tends to do. "Cool", "quiet," "a little strange," "not my type." While the woman I immediately pegged as most "like me" is probably still my closest friend of the group, the women I had immediately dismissed as "not like me" have turned out to be all one could ask for from a mommy friend and more.

I have found that what I look for in a mommy friendship is rather different that what I look for in a "normal" friendship. When my kids aren't involved, I look for someone intellectual, someone who likes good food and good wine, someone who reads the New York Times and devours books. Many of my mommy friends like that, and while I truly enjoy their company, they are not necessarily top of my list of people to call spur of the moment when the kids and I are looking for companionship to pass the hours until bedtime.

Instead, I call the mommies who hang out in track suits and sweats, who don't care if I have showered in two days or not; the mommies who are happy to have my kids tracking dirt through their homes and have an endless supply of juice boxes and kid snacks. The mommies who admit that their children eat nothing but mac and cheese despite their best efforts to serve them vegetables and fish, and who laugh when my son announces that he doesn't like their carpet or sympathize when I have to drag my daughter out of their house kicking and screaming because she wants one more minute. For the seventh time.

I call the mommies that I don't have to clean for, and the mommies who see a deal on soy milk and drop a case of it off on my doorstep on the way to preschool. The mommies who call a few days after I reveal that C is having a hard time in school to find out how he (and I) are doing and offer to take both kids while I have a conference with the teachers. While these women may not look like me, they intuitively understand the intricacies of parenting, and know that despite outward appearances, I really am doing my best.

After C was born my mother admitted that all of the women I remember as her closet friends from childhood would never have been her choice of friends had their kids not been the same age and had they not been equally desperate for friends and support. As I didn't quite get what she was saying, I shrugged off her advice and spent the first few years of mommyhood trying to find women just like me. And I spent those first few years of mommyhood pretty damn lonely, as who I thought I was as a mommy and who I really turned out to be are two totally different people. While I rarely exit my house in sweats, and my kids do in fact eat vegetables with abandon, I am in fact the type of mommy who welcomes dirt and could care less if my child takes foreign language lessons at age three.

So while the women I hang out with at 4 or 5 in the afternoon may not be the women I would have hung out with pre-children, or the women I had imagined myself passing time with when C was first born, they are the women I chose to call when I need companionship. I appreciate the fact that they turn a blind eye to the dried peas wedged into the cracks of my kitchen floor, and that they accept my children's temper tantrums for what they are, age appropriate behavior. While it has taken me four years to figure out who I am as a mommy, these women had it figured out long ago. And I am infinitely grateful that they continued to invite us into their lives and homes until I found my mommy self.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Vague Recollections

As I was standing outside A's door tonight singing lullaby after lullaby, memories of doing the exact same thing for C at about the exact same age came flooding back. As did the search for JUST the right blanket/stuffed animal to sleep with this particular night, and the insistence that she sleep with one of those hard, not at all cuddly baby dolls.

I often feel like I am raising the same child all over again, except this one wears pink instead of blue. Most parents wax on and on about how their children are so totally different, but I never have anything useful to add to those conversations as outside of some missing parts and the ability to speak clearly, my children are much more similar than dissimilar. A is a slightly more picky eater, and C was a slightly better sleeper (only slightly though), other than that I find it hard to earmark a trait as uniquely their own. A adores the same books C adored at this age, and throws temper tantrums over the same issues. Both children are strong-willed and loving, and see humor in the exact same faces and jokes.

I'm not sure whether nature or nurture are to blame here, I have to assume nature as I imagine that most parents out there raise their first and second children in basically the same fashion. As a friend once told me when inspecting my kids, we know exactly how any future J-E children will look and act. And let me tell you, while I love my two dearly, I just can't raise the same child for a third time. So baring any unforeseen accidents in the birth control department, our family is complete.

And if there is ever such an accident, this post will be promptly deleted so as not to scar the poor third child. But y'all will know what happened. Shhh.

Monday, March 06, 2006


C is currently lying on the rug next to the toilet. Of course he doesn't feel sick, but decided to rest there"just in case" his tummy might hurt and he might have to throw up. I am hoping that this is all the result of the fact that a close friend missed school today with a tummy ache, but then again we played with the close friend in question on Saturday, so, well, yeah.

When oh when is this winter going to end????

Updated to add: And the puking has commenced. In copious amounts. And even being next to the potty, he missed it and hit the rug instead. Oh the joy.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Self Esteem

A recites the same mantra over and over again as she is falling asleep these days. It started a few days ago with:

"Mommy loves me, Daddy loves me, C loves me..."

Tonight the list had progressed to:

"Mommy loves me, Daddy loves me, C loves me, C REALLY loves me, Wiggles love me, Wags loves me, babies love me, Nana loves me, Gampy loves me, Dora loves me, Dr. S loves me, Evan loves me, everyone loves me!"

Clearly, A doesn't have any self-esteem issues at the moment.

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Big Bird Flu

As C was watching Sesame Street and M and I were discussing the arrival of the flu at a friend's home...

M: "Maybe it's bird flu..."

C: "No Daddy, it's Big Bird."

Friday, March 03, 2006

Overheard at bedtime

C: "I think I want to put myself to bed tonight."

Mommy: "Uh, Okay."

Long pause.

C: "Actually, it's kind of hard to put yourself to bed when you don't read very well yet."

Mommy: "Would you like me to read you a book?"

C: "Yeah, I think that would be best."

The voice of reason

At playgroup this afternoon, C and the four girls headed upstairs to play dress up. A few minutes later, there was much giggling and then a stern C was heard.

C: "Stop jumping on the bed! Didn't anyone ever tell you what happened to the monkeys???"

We were all laughing so hard that no one could go back C up for several minutes.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

So done

It has been one of those days over here. Because of the weather we didn't leave the house, and, quite honestly, the day could have been much worse. The kids were in reasonable spirits, and the sibling rivalry was not as omnipresent as it usually is.

"So what was the problem?" you ask.

The problem was the cling factor. I am a person who requires a fair amount of personal space. I can't stand back rubs, or massages, or anything that requires another human being outside of my spouse and children coming within an arms radius of me. I am a fan of the handshake, not the "so good to see you" hug and kiss. And while I have instituted an exception to my "stay away, far far away" rule for my immediate family, there is still a limit to my ability to handle constant contact with another human being.

Today we reached my limit by about 3pm. A had to be "up up up" all day long, and C used me as his own personal jungle gym for hours on end. Every tearful moment required many hugs and kisses, and then minutes upon hours of more snuggling and hugs to make the world right. Every time someone tried to touch me, I had to keep myself from cringing and throwing them off my leg, arm, tummy, or face.

I am so glad they love me and love to show their affection. Clearly they have inherited genes from M, although Nana claims I was as equally lovey-dovey as a toddler/pre-schooler. But can't they shower some love on stuffed animals too? I know quite a few teddy bears who are starving for a little bit of love.

Oh the irony

Yesterday we headed to the library post-nap to replace my library card that had been sacrificed to the grocery store distraction Gods a few weeks ago. C and I also introduced ourselves to the children's librarian who was FABULOUS and pointed out both some new chapter books and some old favorites. I followed her on a whirlwind tour of the children's department exclaiming "OH YES! The Great Brain! Judy Blume! Ohhhh. Mr Popper's Penguins???"

After selecting All About Sam for C and the perennial favorite Baby Faces for A, we headed to the grownup section for a quick game of "judge a book by its cover and run." The kids each picked books for me as well. C actually made a good selection, Julie and Julia, which is already on my nightstand. A, however, proudly handed me The Baby Sleep Book. Oh, the irony. If only she could read it herself...

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Book club beginnings

I'm currently caught up in Spring Carnival planning hell so I haven't thought much about how to set up the book club as I've been too busy settling squabbles over whether we should be serving Jello Jigglers or Oreos (neither, IMO, but hey, who am I to dictate snack choices...).

But just to keep the idea in motion before I lose it, why doesn't everyone suggest a book and then I'll set up some sort of voting/selection process. If you don't want to post your choice in the comments thread, email me at and I'll add it to the list.