January 20, 2007 | I'm dating the television

So, my parents are here for the weekend, and I am overjoyed. I never really realize how nice it is not to be the only person in the house who doesn’t think “I know you are, but what am I?” is astute rhetoric until others are here. Then, instead of being outnumbered by my children, I suddenly have reinforcements.

Of course, then the kids have an audience, too. So there is still a fair amount of burping at the dinner table. But at least my urge to make them wear their dinner plates as hats is somewhat lessened.

After not having seen each other for months, it’s only natural that we would stay up until the wee hours catching up on each others’ lives. Or just watching endless hours of CSI: Miami and wondering if David Caruso’s face is, in fact, melting off. Either way.

January 18, 2007 | Books

… Reading books is very nice. (You’re welcome for sticking this in your head. No need to thank me.)

I would love to tell you something really meaningful and life-changing, tonight, but I’ve got nothing. Well, I have a bunch of laundry that needs to be put away, and NO COOKIES, and a couple of children who probably need a shower, and some parakeets that don’t belong to me (oh, don’t even ask), but nothing worth going on about.

Instead, allow me to revel in my geeky bookworm ways and refer you to other places where I had something to say, earlier… before I realized I was out of cookies.

If you go read me over at Maya’s Mom (a new parenting website with all kinds of good stuff, by the way; check it out) you can learn about some of my favorite books to share with my kids. (This piece is the third in a series I’m writing weekly for Maya’s Mom on all things kiddie lit.)

And if you go read me over at Ty’s you can enter your name in a drawing for free books that are guaranteed to please either your actual children or your inner 10-year-old boy. You don’t have to tell me which one.

January 17, 2007 | Ottomatic For the People

Otto and I talk on the phone every night. Occasionally we only talk for twenty minutes or so—if it’s very late, or one of us has to go somewhere, or if I’m sick and cranky and need to sleep—and even more rarely we talk for closer to three hours; but most of the time we talk for an hour or two.

Sometimes I wonder if we’ll run out of things to talk about, what with being unable to engage in the natural pacing provided by a face-to-face relationship where you can stop talking and make out for a while when you don’t have anything to say. So far, so good. Plus, this way we don’t feel guilty catching up on the face-sucking thing when we actually ARE together. (more…)

January 16, 2007 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony, Haven't been hit by lightning yet!

Today the children and I stayed in the house and watched a lot of television. Eventually we took a break to drive very slowly around all of the trees which had grown weary of the ice and sagged downward, laying across the road. We’re so sorry, the trees seemed to say. We’re just tired, and stretching out, and we’ll stand up in a minute. Pardon us!

There was no pardoning them, however, as the Department of Public Works was hacking them up when we returned from buying bread and milk and baby carrots. I’d wanted to take some pictures, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be.

I thought that nothing could be worse than an (almost) entire day of Pokemon and Full House DVDs, but I was wrong. Chickadee had brought home her latest prized possessions from her dad’s house. (more…)

January 15, 2007 | It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

Winter, winter; wherefore art thou, winter?

As we’ve enjoyed our unseasonably warm and spring-like days I have said to anyone who will listen (and several who would not) that I feared winter’s arrival, because I’ve lived in the frozen north a long time, and I happen to know that winter WILL arrive. With a vengeance.

Of course, I was picturing something more along the lines of a couple of feet of snow. That’ll come later, I suppose.

Today was something. Hello, ice! (more…)

January 14, 2007 | The Year of Living Changerously

At 7:30 this morning I was down in my basement with a push broom, removing the last detritus from last year’s Basementgate. Sure, it’s been clean down there for ages, but I never swept out all the corners. Now I have.

This afternoon I steadily filled my brain with information until I had to go curl up on the couch with the remote and a bag of chips to recover. I’m not quite done recovering, honestly. (more…)

January 13, 2007 | It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

I can’t decide:

1) Deciding to paint just that one piece of dinged trim before showing the house tomorrow and finding myself painting trim, doors, the entire staircase, and huh, whaddaya know, I’ve been painting for SIX HOURS.

or

2) Having a prolonged discussion about school districts, looking up statistics online, realizing I have lived a life of white privilege and that while I certainly COULD provide that for my kids in the south, it would be twenty different kinds of wrong to do so; and realize further that I am not just moving to another state, but possibly a different universe.

I was leaning towards the former being the lesser, but I dunno, I seem to have an unusually long staircase….

January 11, 2007 | Ottomatic For the People, The Year of Living Changerously

This morning BOTH of my children awoke healthy—if not entirely cheerful—and I sang “You are going to school to-day! You are going to school to-day!” until they both glared at me and plotted their revenge together at the breakfast table. I should probably be worried, but it’s hard to take the revenge plans of people chewing animal-shaped vitamins seriously.

We shuffled through the crisp air to the bus stop, amused ourselves by chiding each other for “smoking” and trying to make interesting shapes with the misty breath coming from our mouths, and then waved goodbye as the bus pulled away.

Thus began my first day this week sans children. I just knew it was going to be a great day! (more…)

January 10, 2007 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Chickadee: My name is Kooky.
Me: Hello, Kooky.
Chickadee: No, wait. My name is— actually, I quite enjoy my real name.
Me: That’s wonderful… I enjoy your real name, too. And when I was a kid I hated my name, so I’m especially glad that you like yours.
Chickadee: Well your name sounds much better for someone old like you, not a kid—
Me: *jaw drops, stricken look*
Chickadee: I mean, not that you’re old.
Me: Stop talking now.
Chickadee: You’re laughing.
Me: No I’m not.
Chickadee: Yes you are.
Me: You called me old.
Chickadee: I didn’t call you an old lady.
Me: Stop. Talking.

God, I love that kid.

Happy Love Thursday. May you know the joy of indignation that can’t help giggling.

January 9, 2007 | About, It's not a regret, it's an "experience"

Would you like to come to my cocktail party? It is only virtual, which is why you should totally come. An ACTUAL party at my actual HOUSE would involve me being so stressed out that I would need to be serving ativan canapes in order to enjoy myself at all, and I hear that drugging yourself discreetly is okay but that drugging your guests is somewhat uncouth. So.

See, Liz tagged me for this party meme thing, and I’ve been cooped up all day with TWO sick children (now with twice the mind-numbing boredom!), so it seemed like a good time to acquiesce. The alternative is an entire entry along the lines of “Monkey had nothing but two ounces of juice all day long so I should probably be worried, but mostly I want to pluck out his liver and eat it, do you think that makes me a bad mother?” (more…)