On the other end of the Friend-spectrum:

There is another woman I rilly, rilly WANT to be friends with. She's my son's daycare teacher. I said to Husband recently, "I rilly, rilly want her to be my friend in real life. Not just at daycare. You think I could ask her to lunch or something, like on a Saturday?" He looked at me like I was Weird. I probably am. But would it be totally out of the question to strike up a personal friendship with her? Would it be contrived? She's actually expecting her FIFTH! baby. Her first girl. (Meanwhile, she cares for 10 one-year-olds, eight hours a day. Did I mention this woman is quite amazing? I admire from afar.) And so her last day is most likely this Friday. SOB! Whimper! I am ever-so-thankful she's only taking 3 or 4 weeks off (her hubby works at home). Of course, she mentioned to me that SHE was glad, too -- she'll only miss a few weeks of her students' development. (Again, um... amazing?? She is so invested in MY kid et al, that she's cutting short her maternity leave? Perhaps the mentality is a bit more relaxed after five maternity leaves.) I'm thinking I will get her a wee little baby gift so she'll know I *like like* her. Hee! It's like 3rd grade over here. Maybe I should include "Check yes or no" boxes on the card.

You've got a little Reebok in your teeth, there

There is a new woman in my Book Club. Let's call her Betty. I have to tell you something: (stage whisper) I don't care for her. She's very nice, I guess, but I just haven't been able warm up to her At All. She feels very distant to me, very uninterested, and she's just... an outsider. We're a pretty tight group, and I know that my friend S. likes her, or she wouldn't have invited her to join us, but... Well, but nothing, I just don't dig her. My Book Club friends are a group of funny, outgoing, socially adept women with whom to dish and giggle, and also share this time in our lives -- wifehood and motherhood and whatever else we happen think about. Groceries. Health. Movies. Oh yeah, and books. Well, Betty's not a giggler, or a sharer. When she does talk, it's really slowly. She places every. word. deliberately. and matter-of-factly. and without expression. There just isn't any spice to her. I've not seen her laugh. Her 3 kids are older than all of ours, so she kinda hangs on the fringes of our teething/toddlering/baby stories. And besides that, she started her family rather late in her life, making her several years older than the rest of us. Sigh.

I know now why she might be like this. I think she she needs us -- I'm guessing that's why S. includes her. Found out last night that her brother, to whom she was closest in age, died in April. I found this out because I attempted to bring her into our conversation. -- I often try to do this when I think someone in a group isn't being included. (Is it a good habit, or a flaw? Should I just leave shy/quiet people alone? Sometimes I want to be left alone... need to think about this.) -- Anyway, S., J., and I have known each other for nearly 10 years now; we know each others' stories and details and histories. So I, politely, I thought, attempted to steer the conversation Betty's way. We were talking about families: "Betty, do you have any siblings?" And she had to leave the room before she started crying. I felt so bad. I'm sure she's still hurting. Open mouth, insert foot -- but how was I supposed to know that? Of course, I wasn't. But the incident is going to stick with me now. I'll have sympathy for her, yes, but I am going to feel guilty around her and won't let myself forget that I made her cry, and I still won't be able to warm up to her with this standing in my way. A conundrum.

Beginning to look a lot like Christmas

A tidbit or two

It's wintery. Raining, not snowing, but the sky is dark with clouds and it's c-c-c-cold out there. I like being home with my little guy on days like this. In our PJs. We sat under blankets and did his puzzle about 4 times this morning. With milk. He's also a bit snuffly, so even better that I'm here to cuddle on him frequently (and wipe his nose, which he hates!) -- Mom's special duty. And by a bit snuffly, I mean the box of Kleenex I bought yesterday is half gone with the wiping.

Status Update on the Puh-deeeew: It's -- I'm -- in the laundry room. The washing machine stands at just about the right height for me to stand here and type, and I have the door pulled just far enough to conceal my true activity from Mr. Curious. He thinks I'm doing a LOT of laundry. It's going really well, actually, except for my bare feet starting to be tired from all the standing. When he needs me, he calls, "Mama," and I hop back over the gate. I've been able to conduct a bit of business with a lovely Dreft aromatherapy keeping me calm.

Kiss me and call me efficient: I have two, count'em, two crates of Christmas decorations activated, contents placed carefully by me, the Christmas fairy, around the house. Go fairy! Instead of trying to do it all in one long, ridiculous Decorating Day, I am trying to do it little by little and thus, not overwhelm myself. Husband's idea. He thought very hard about carrying all the stuff up from the basement last night, imagined what my reaction might be (melted into a puddle on the floor), and wisely decided on this one-at-a-time method. Such a smart fella. Only thing is, the mantle is looking a shade "off," what with the clock, the red taper candles, the can of Pledge and the bare stocking holders. Stockings and garland, I guess, are in Crate #3. We'll see how long it takes me to finish them all, and then next weekend: Tree!

And Every Day after that: "AJ, no-NO! We DON'T pull the ornaments off the tree and throw them into the fireplace. And don't touch those lights. Hothothot. No-no."

Hold hands if you're thankful

Happy Thanksgiving weekend. :)

Oh, the Brainwaves

Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so.... right in front of my face. It was the grown-up version of "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day," starting with work -- one of those days when I really wanted to concentrate and everyone around me was having fun, how dare they?, laughing and talking it up outside my cube. (This was just in the morning, for about 5 minutes, dear coworkers who read me - not to worry - but for some reason it Set Me Off.) I tried headphones, but all the music did was totally jam up my brain and distract me even further.

Sally Client kept asking me questions, how dare she?, showing just how much she DOESN'T know and making me crazy with the questions when I was trying to wrap up a project for her before the stinking holiday. I kept trying to end our email conversation with "Sorry for being unclear before. Hope this helps," and "Thanks for your email, have a great holiday weekend," but she kept. Replying.

Then when I got in the car to drive home, my radio was too loud, I had to wait for the traffic light too long, and the heater was too hot. And I wanted a Coke. So, therefore, being insane and unreasonable, I broke down. I cried and I cried over hating my job sometimes, and over not being able to just quit and be a mommy, and by the way, I'd be a BETTER mommy if I didn't have to work -- I'd be able to actually spend time with AJ instead of sending him off to be cared for by Strangers!, and also when I got home I wouldn't give in and let him watch a half-hour of Barney just so I could get dinner started without any fuss, and also I want a Coke but I don't have any cash, and oh! don't even get me started on what a terrible WIFE I am, just barely scraping by as a Co-Parent/Roommate... not really being a very Good Friend to my husband, much less a good partner... and I just sobbed and hiccupped and messed up my makeup, and OH CRAP, now the daycare receptionists are going to see me and wonder what's wrong, and I'll probably break down in their office if they ask, and then they'll talk about me after I leave and worry that I'm unstable, and I probably am - I maybe need to ask the doctor about depression - and they'll be worried for AJ's sake... and, crap. Just stop. STOP THE MADNESS. Roll down the window, get some fresh air -- stay back, stupid tears! I will not have this. Breathe. Dammit. And then this started all over 2 or 3 times (I have a pretty long commute).

You ever have a day like this? WELL, I DO. Just about every Fracking month and I swear to god it always catches me with no warning. How can a person be THIS hormonally imbalanced?? How can I not KNOW that it's just the monthly woman-thing messing with my brain? How? Why? Usually it manifests with 2 days of me silently thinking my marriage is in trouble. Husband will say one thing to me, one word, even, like "Hey." And I'll just DIE of the sad.

It is mind-boggling, the day after.

When they invent a Palm-pilot organizer microchip that we can have installed in our brains, I'm going to be the first in line. I'm going to set mine with the loudest alarm it's got, that goes off every 4 weeks, shouting, "RED FLAG!! WARNING: EMOTIONAL BOMB AHEAD. TAKE COVER."

Wait. Why did I post that?

I am feeling very negative this morning about everything. About my blog, first and foremost, because that last entry was rather depressing, and because I just don't have the time to write how I wish I could write. Even right now, I'm sitting here looking at the clock thinking, 8:16am, I need to be wrapping it up and getting on the road in about 15 minutes. Oh no, not enough time to finish a good entry or think of just the right way to say something With! Puunch! Just write something. Hit publish. Get it updated, because don't you Hate it when your favorite blogs don't update?! And I don't purport to think that my blog is anyone's favorite (except my Mom's, of course) -- but I do know that 4 people, maybe 5, actually read it regularly, so: the Pressure. Just know that I WISH it was better for you, my loyal readers. I WANT to entertain you (and hell, I want to entertain my own self, too. I'd like to go back and read all this one day and smile at my cleverness, my flair)! But that just ain't happ'nin.

More negativity about this week, because there's a ton of stuff to do before we hit the road, as always, including Laundry, the Bane of My Existence, and besides that we Intended with a REALLY capital "I" to get ALL of our Christmas shopping finished before Thanksgiving. And a hahahahahahahahaha, hahaha. Ha. We are So Foolish. But now that defeated Intention makes me want to kick and scream with the unfairness of it.

Boooooo.

A few more hours out

And after a day of life in the actual world

Whew, got a little philosophical and wishy there, thinking alllll the bad in the world can go away. I have to say.... a bit unrealistic. Nothing wrong with a little hope -- and I guess if you take on HOPE as your major theme and become a crusader for it, aka Bono, you have to speak it unceasingly and not falter from that. He had me going, too. I like having hope, I really do. Unfortunately, poverty isn't something that we can eradicate in the real, real world. (Which Bono says he would like to do.) How come no? Well, what if all the people in the world were somehow, rich. How nice that would be! But, umm... how rich? 'Cause you'd have to figure that out. You'd have to establish some common denominator, or common currency. The difficulty of just that, spanning all the languages and religious differences and government systems, I think, would end the whole project before it ever got started. And then if all the currency isn't equal, then there WOULD be some people who ended up with more cash than others. It's just the sad way things are. So anyway... yeah. (But the music still kicked ass.)

I did hear a news story today about the poverty that actually exists IN this country. Strangely, the family they profiled as rural have-nots lived near Saltville, Virginia, which is where AJ's paternal great-grandparents grew up, so it hit home a little. The wife in the report said she had to "save up or roll pennies" to buy toothpaste for her 5 little ones. Those were her options. She'd lie to her husband, telling him she "had a big lunch," in order that there was enough dinner to go around her evening table. So it made me feel pretty bad that when I passed the Mexican restaurant, I looooonged to eat dinner there instead of having to make my own. Selfish me. Just being able to whine like that -- thinking I don't have the OPTION, when really, I totally COULD afford it -- is something to be extremely thankful for. And I am.

P.S. You have sucessfully endured my Morality Essays. We now return to our regularly scheduled anecdotes of the most precious little toddler-boy ever. And, my everyday whining. Aren't you glad??

This I believe

On Saturday, we went to the U2 concert. I have had a hard time, since then, describing it to people who've asked, "how was it?" because it was, without a doubt, indescribable. Unforgettable. Unexpected. And unbelieveable. That's the word I've used most often. Unbelieveable.

Of course, we expected a fantastic show. But not the feeling of gratitute. Not the CALM that seemed to be part of the whole thing, even amidst the crazy loud WONDERFUL loud that is rock-and-roll music. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was Good.

It's interesting, because as much as U2 is the world's biggest band, and as grateful and happy that I am to have seen them during the height of their fame and talent and glory -- when they appeared onstage I didn't scream and shake like so many Beatles fans, with the thrill of seeing them in the Same Room. I just felt...um... content. Concrete. It was Right, the way I felt about them being there. Maybe it's because they have so many performance videos, or because I've watched Rattle and Hum about six (or ten) times. But I felt kind-of a sense of completeness -- like, here is this band that I've seen so many times before, and all it is, is perfect.

Each one of them, Bono, Edge, Larry, and Adam, is just so solid -- they're... pillars, so incredibly strong in their talents. (We heard Larry last night on 60 minutes, and when Ed Bradley asked him why doesn't he do big drum solos, he responded, "Because I'm not that good and I have to concentrate pretty hard." Hahahahahahaha. That made me laugh. Not that good. Yeah.) The way their show is set up, there's a camera on each of the performers, and of course the requisite huge video screens. I thought that was perfect. Each of them deserves -- and gets -- equal amounts of respect as musicians. Without one of them, there's no band. So it was good to be able to watch them all as individuals.

The opening was the most gorgeous display, maybe even "enactment," of a song that I've ever witnessed. Surprisingly, they've opened most of their shows on this tour with "City of Blinding Lights." Which is a great song, but not the one you hear all over the radio. It caught me off-guard. But it couldn't have been more perfect. The set had these huge panels of lightbulbs -- strung together and hanging down from the rafters, not on boards like the old days. Those panels served both as light apparatus and as video screens, which was simply amazing. During "Lights," obviously, they became bright lights stretching out over the crowd, showcasing the glitter confetti that was released to fall over us. It was magnificent -- such a celebration! (And, I'll admit somewhat greedily, it felt like U2 was celebrating US, the fans. Actually that's not greedy, I think they were. Bono said at one point during the show, "You've given us a great life." I love when stars thank their fans. He followed it with, "And in return.... we don't make crap music." !! All that he is, and he's also a comedian. So funny.)

They sang "Sunday Bloody Sunday," and Bono said "This is your song now, America." Touched my heart, made me so, so sad. They sang, "Where the Streets Have No Name," which I've never really understood 'til hearing it live. They sang, "Bullet the Blue Sky," which probably isn't everyone's favorite, but it is one of mine since I discovered them with that album. They sang "Mysterious Ways" and pulled one lucky fan onstage to dance, and we all hated her loved her. We sang "Pride/In the Name of Love" and "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and I absolutely had tears spilling over. This is what the world needs more of, my friends -- thousands of people standing, singing about LOVE and kindness, together, at the tops of our lungs. It's simply amazing to join together like that -- it's what the world should be.

Forgive me for being SUCH a sap about this event. At one point I thought to myself, "Is this, like, a defining moment in my adult life?" And you know what? I think it was. Not that all of a sudden I'm going to go out and save the world with my activism, or start following the band around like an uber-fan, but it just made me aware. Bono's always spoken out about world issues, but it's not just his schtick -- it's the right thing for him to do. He is a good person. And we all ought to be part of that. Not for him, but for each other. I think my warm feelings about the concert are also becuase U2 has been important at every stage of my life. At age 12, it was "With or Without You," and I didn't even know or care who sang it. But I knew it. In 9th grade, I really became a fan and bought some albums, and my best friend and I cooed over her date with a Senior who took her to see Rattle and Hum, the first "concert" movie of its kind. I was just starting college with "Actung Baby," and played that CD over and over and over in my dorm room. The songs are just part of all of us.

U2, the Vertigo tour, was for me like one big enjoyable sermon, with Bono preaching his gospel of tolerance and human rights and One-ness. The concert ended with everyone singing "People... Have the Power...People... Have the Power..." Power to what? -- to change lives. To help each other. To be together. To love. That's what I felt we got out of it. A great reminder -- along with an enormous helping of all our favorite life-songs -- to love each other. I believe this is what Bono intends for us to get from his life, and from their music. (I sort-of believe he's reached demi-god status in my generation, or at least prophet-status.) I believe this is going to stay with me a long time (I still haven't been able to listen to music other than U2 yet.) And I believe it's nothing short of God's own work that they do.

I'm a turkey

In anticipation of next week's feasting, I thought I'd preview my blessings. But instead of reflecting on what has been, here's what I'm looking forward to. And by that, I mean the food:

• Deviled Eggs!!! Lurrrrrvh them. (Probably the only thing that I can help my mother-in-law make)
  
• Ham rolls for breakfast
  
• That is, real live Homemade yeast rolls, you understand. How many people get those anymore? It's a treat!
  
• Cranberry Jelly. Ocean Spray, with the can's ridges imprinted.
  
• Homemade cookies galore. And she does make the best cookies.

And these are the things I will miss, since my feet won't be underneath my own Mommy's table:

• Pumpkin soup. Oh, how I love my mom's pumpkin soup. It's not a childhood tradition, but just in the last few years she's made it, and it is divine. Thick, creamy, spicy. Maybe I'll make it early next week before we leave town.
  
• Cajun dressing and the post-feast dressing sandwiches. (But at least there's Christmas to look forward to; we make it then, too!)
  
• Cold White Zin. Dad's always forthcoming with the wine on major holidays.
  
• Dozens of relatives around the table. It's the one thing that doesn't feel normal to me, when we're not in Pensacola. The table is small and there are just 6 of us. Not that it's a bad thing to have an "intimate setting;" it's less sink-time washing china and silver, that's for sure! But growing up I don't think we ever had Thanksgiving with fewer than 12 attendees. Everything's just so festive when there's a crowd.

Time to snap back into this week, for now, and eat my morning pop-tart. Gobble, gobble.

Happy country

Taking a short break from my data entry task today, to make note of some recent splashing I did in the familiar puddle of country music.

I watched the CMA awards last night, hoping to cheer for "my friends" in Sugarland as they won the Horizon award and several others for which they were nominated. But they didn't win. Instead, I cheered them in their stellar performance, and just in the fact that they were there. They have arrived. They had so much fun on stage, as they always do, and I am so happy for them. It's a strange pride to see someone on national TV that I've heard play so many times, in such small bars, where I was *this close* and could swear they were singing right to me and looking in my eyes. :)

Actually, the whole show was kind-of a "hello, old friends" episode for me. From about '96 to '99, my radio dial was all about country. Somehow I stopped listening to it, though, right about the time I met my husband. He was introducing me to a lot of great new, alternative music, for which I'm eternally grateful. That's how my musical tastes go, really -- always rotating around. Seems to me today's country music is a lot about hanging in there, about good lovin', long-time marriages, simpler times, and embracing, with a slightly embarrased laugh, the rednecks among us. At least those are the songs that speak to me lately.

Anyway, Keith Urban, CMA's Entertainer of the Year, was one of my favorites for a long time. I pulled out his first album and listened to it on my drive in today. (Who needs NPR anyway?) It's a fantastic album -- lots of love songs, some of which triggered my tear ducts. I miss having love songs in my head. Too many daily details pushing them off the edges, I guess.

That, and the Sesame Street songs. I think AJ asked for "C is for Cookie" about eighteen times yesterday.... 'Course, that one IS a love song, if you want to get technical. :)

An idea hits me with the *smack* of a 2x4

Or, My New Plan.

This clearly is not working. AJ's wailing through the monitor to let me know he Wants with a capital W, my Puh-Deeeeewwwwwww (computer). He alternates pitiful sobs with "Puhdeeeeewwww" and "Bye-byyyyyye?" Because I told him the puhdew was going bye-bye, and he was going to nap. So heartbreakingly cute. And yet, so everything opposite of cute.

I think the kitchen table arrangement is going to have to end forever. And it should have ended a long time ago, but I am too dense started working at home with him when he was 6 months old, and he'd bounce happily in his bouncy seat next to me, on the table, while I tappety-tapped on the keyboard. Then I'd switch him to the Exer-saucer and back, and he remained a happy camper. And I never thought that our location was going to cause problems as he got older. No matter that I didn't have a real "office" space in my house; this worked fine. And I let it become my routine. Well, now we have a whole nother story.

I'm going to admit something -- I only use my baby gates (portable ones, not hard-mounted) at the staircases. I don't ever "gate" baby in, just to keep him contained. For me the gates were a critical measure of safety, but I didn't like the idea of building a "pen" where Baby would be "imprisoned." Silly Idealist Mommy. After these last two days (plus some months) of the whining and screaming, I think I'm going to try it. How many of you mommies out there do this? The baby-gate box shows a mommy who's perfectly happy to have her kids cordonned off, so that she can go about her day -- maybe it works?

I'm thinking I will position our 2 gates, 1 at the top of the stairs, obviously, and the other in the doorway to my bedroom. There's a tabletop in my room where I can set the laptop, and if I position it just right, he may not even see me using it (that is the goal, because if he does see it, he'll just whine at the gate and I've gained nothing). This leaves him his entire room, his bathroom, the guest room, and the area in front of my room which has a nice bookcase for him to destroy explore. I have also been thinking lately that I play too closely with AJ. I need to try and wean him of the habit of having me Right There next to him, on the floor at all times. He can be in one room while I'm in another, right? (Sheesh, when I put it out there on paper it makes me feel an awful lot like I spoil him. I have never intended to.)

Do you think this might work? I'll totally go over the gate and play with him or rescue him, whenever. And I don't mean this is how we'll spend our entire day. It's just that he'll be kept away from the temptation that is the computer. I think leaving it out, where he can see it, is teasing him. "Mommy can use the computer any time, but you can't." Not that I think kids should be sheltered from the word "No," mind you. Or that kids should ever be given open access -- there are obviously things that are just for grown-ups. But this way seems a kinder approach. If it works everyone will be happier. And he'll grow up independent and self-assured and content. Right? :) We'll test it next Monday and see. (Of course I realize there will be somewhat of a learning period to get used to the arrangement.)

I am open to your suggestions.

Weekend

I finished my book in 4 days flat. I sucked it right down and chased it with sweet tea. It was delicious.

...

Leaves, leaves, and more stinking leaves. They tend to fall here in large gusts, so one minute, you've just raked up thirty gatrillion of them and your yard is pristine, and then next minute, a gust comes by and it rains leaves for 2 or 3 minutes, and then you cry. Of course, lucky for me, yard duty is my Husband's, in general. Although I did rake 4 whole piles for him while simultaneously chasing AJ and making sure he didn't step in dog poop.

...

I am sad that I'm going to miss Blogging 4 Books. I think it's a good topic this time. But by midnight tonight a winning entry probably isn't gonna happen for me. AJ's sickly. Spent the first part of this morning vomiting -- we think it was the brats that did it. Bratwurst, that is. He LOVED the stuff and ate a lot of it. I stupidly thought, "Hey, it's like hot dogs." But his little tummy let me know that it is Not At All like hot dogs. So the 2nd part of this morning was spent with AJ holding me hostage in nothing but a bra and jeans. I had to take my shirt off for vomity reasons, ew, and he was so tired and sickly that he just Needed His Mama. He was fast asleep before I managed to run upstairs, set him down, and throw on a t-shirt. I couldn't resist him, anyway; was perfectly willing to be held hostage by him, as long as the side of his head that smelled *good* was nearest my nose. Ha. Just kidding. I'd smell the pukey side and Like It. That is what mother's love is, people.

Note to Self:

When I become a mother-in-law one day, God willing, and have a lovely daughter-in-law with whom to share my son and my future grandkids, I must remember the following:

If, for example, she works from home on Mondays and Thursdays -- HYPOTHETICALLY, you understand... and if I've been told gently, several times, that she has precious little time in which to actually DO her work on those days -- like, while the baby is napping, which is usually from around 10:30am to around 1:30pm...? I MUST REMEMBER NOT TO CALL HER AT THOSE TIMES OF THE DAY.

And also, it probably would be best NOT to call repeatedly at, say, 7:00 p.m., and open my conversation, every time, not with "Hi!" but with "Did I catch you right at dinner?" Because, YES, YES I WILL HAVE CAUGHT THEM RIGHT AT DINNER, AND SAYING SO FIRST RATTLE OUT OF THE BOX JUST EMPHASIZES THE FACT THAT I KNOW I will catch them at dinner, and therefore they will wonder, "Why in the hell did she call at this time??"

Bless my future heart.

Looking at TV

All those smarty-pants American Academy of Pediatrics people who say that children under 2 should Never, No Never Watch One Single Moment of TV, EVER, can kiss my butt. How can kids these days avoid it? AJ watches his shows, and he gets smarter every day. And to all the mouths from whom the phrase "As long as you don't use it as a babysitter" drips judgmentally, I say: Hogwash. If it keeps him occupied for 5 or 10 minutes at a stretch, and I'm trying to get my work done, then that Babysitter is Hired.

I've been thinking about it (because I Worry, you know, about Things) -- if we were the "TV generation," then what are our kids going to be? It's only gotten more prevalent, with more channels and more TVs in every home they'll ever visit. I think about my TV childhood, because despite my mother's best intentions, we watched a good bit of TV. Not 24 hours a day, mind you, but I think she probably got to a point where she just quit fighting it -- because you just can't win. The force of its pull is too great. I see it already, that big glowing Eye looking at AJ saying, "Come here, my child. I'm fascinating and I'm going to gently eat your brain cells, and you're going to slip into a daze and you'll kinda like it. Mwahahahahahaaaa."

I know it can be a setup for lazy habits later, but he still likes to run around - A LOT - so I'm not worried at this point about the deadly sin of Sloth. And believe me, I won't allow it when we reach school age and tween-dom. I fully intend to enforce rules about when and what to watch, and Praise God for the V-Chip. No TVs in Kids' Rooms, Ever. And I SO will encourage TV Turnoff Week. I think it's a fabulous idea. In fact, I bet my kid(s) won't protest as much as my Husband and I will, after they've gone to bed! An exercise in patience and discipline.

Anyway, I've accepted that he's going to watch. I can't stop him. I actually love some of the shows we let him see. Little Einsteins is great for the music and art. Higglytown Heroes shows that everyone is important. Bob the Builder throws in little environmental lessons here and there. And the half-hour Barney episode at 3:30pm saves my life some days. I don't think it's going to kill him.

The bookworm's back

Dudes, I finally got gods in Alabama after Barnes & Noble made me wait and wait for it, argh. Last night I read about 65 pages in about 10 minutes. Okay, maybe not that fast, but it felt that fast. Compelling! Interesting! Funny! I think I'm in love.

My husband says to me the other night, "I hardly ever see you reading anymore." Well, that is because it has been a super-long time since I've read a GOOD book. Our last book club selection was Cloud Atlas. It was difficult and boring. Before that, Good Wives, a women's studies dissertation project, I think. Interesting, but difficult, and also boring. Not that we aren't intelligent people -- we are. But we sometimes need to read for pleasure. I think this one's going to be just the ticket. Yay. :)

Pew-pew

My child can en-un-ci-ate!

Not to worry, there is no actual poo-poo in this story, it's just that AJ has taken to talking about it. It's very funny. It usually occurs as he wakes up -- he blinks a few times and then lets us know a Very Important Thing: "Pew-pew?" Like a question, but also a statement. He screws up his face and works his little mouth around the new words, and he's really TRYING to communicate. It is SO. CUTE. The weird part is that there usually isn't, in fact, any poo-poo. But he's patting his bottom, so he evidently knows that of which he speaks... or at least, where it lives... It makes me laugh and then frightens me a little. Is this a sign he's on the advanced track toward Potty Training? I know he's not ready yet, but 18 months is supposedly when you can start thinking about it, and that's not very far away. And he's also showing lots of interest in flushing the potty lately. He doesn't so much care what's in it, but today he did look at the empty, clean potty, and say, "Pew-pew?" Yes, honey, that's where poo-poo goes. (MY LORD, is this what it has come to?? ...Yes, yes, I guess it is... This is Real Life Mit Toddler. Enjoy!) Next thing you know I'll have to buy that red book. You know, the one my sister and I used to giggle about mightily when we were 8 and 10, because we were born in the era BEFORE that book and it seemed so utterly nonsensical. I have to admit, I fear Potty Training a little bit.

*pause while I consider the fear*

Moving on!

--I'm coveting. I want new Clothes and new Stuff, including the Most Adorable Quilted Christmas Stockings from Pottery Barn Kids (I'm going to order 4 and leave one without a monogram for -- gasp! -- a future child! So we will all match, someday. Is that crazy? I'm sure it's asking for trouble but I Have to order it, don't I?) Pottery Barn Kids, why do you mock me so? I'd like something on every page, please. Well, except the Very Pretentious Decorator Kids' Rooms. Those are a bit out of control with their matching painted wood drawers and handy-but-stylish monogrammed cubby baskets, and little retro multiplication flash cards pinned to a cork board, and smart blue gingham valances. Sigh. I love these rooms but I just don't think they're very realistic. At least not in my reality. My reality seems to be a lot more plastic than Pottery Barn's.

--After 2 weeks "off," I got up to workout this morning with my pal, Gilad. That man is out of his gourd and mostly creepy. I wouldn't want to be one of his minions-in-leotards, pumping and kicking and Smiling behind him. Blech. But he does a pretty kickass workout. My body is headed toward sculpture-dom, woo hoo!

--I now have $138.42 in credit at the Book Nook. (Local used bookstore.) I LOVE me a good local used bookstore. Didn't have time or energy to fight AJ and really browse today, so we came home with a Barney Little Golden Book and a Baby Mickey something kind of book. He is in love with both of them. But, $138!! When am I going to find time to read that many books?! Who knows. But it's a nice feeling, anyway. Something for FREE! And I got rid of the books that had been sitting in my coat closet these past 16 months. They were going to be a "while on maternity leave" project. Ahem.

Ooh, and the book clerk gave me a sorta backhanded compliment while checking my trade-ins. He said, "Did you read all these books? Because they're all pretty.... literary. Usually when we see Moms come in with kids..." and I knew he was going to say something rude about my fellow mommies and Romance novels, so I Laughed Politely to stop the comment before it happened. Because who are we to judge what people like to read?! Those mommies probably need to escape to somewhere that has Fire and Passion, so I say good for them (and also, gaaaack, SO not my taste). But anyway, I'm Literary, isn't that nice? I guess it's good he took note of me, because I will be spending lots of time and $138 free dollars in there.

--Ginger the Neighbor Dog (who is forced to live outdoors, poor thing) has Not Stopped Barking for the past hour. This is Not one of the nice things about Working From Home.

--Only 12 days until the U2 concert, and we Have Procured a Babysitter. Score.

Edited to add: I have now edited revised this post approximately 11 12 times and I declare it's time to Stop. That is all.

You're older than you've ever been

Where have I been? I've been lost in my own mind. Thinking a lot lately, mostly about politics. Mostly because I listen to NPR on both commutes, which can be fun, but also tires the mind out after a while. Indictments and Appointments and filibusters and global health... whew! I'm tired just writing all that.

I got stuck on NPR mostly because the radio sucks for music these days and I'm not kidding. I love classical music anyway, so that's a bonus. I think I'm destined to become an old fuddy-duddy though, because currently it's either NPR or AM 1160, which is "the voice of the arts in Atlanta." (They play a mix of Broadway and Sinatra and classical. Sometimes they throw a few oldies -- too many for my liking, really -- I mean, would you put the Shirelles in the same playlist as Bach or Leonard Bernstein? I THINK NOT. But on the whole, it's a much, much more palatable mix than the Alternative station, the "non-station" station, the Soft Hits station, or the Christian station, all of which I am just barely able to tolerate anymore for various reasons.)

At any rate, I've decided it's high time for me to embrace adulthood. (Hi, I'm 31.) As AJ gets older he'll need a Mommy who is informed, opinionated, and organized -- mostly organized -- and those are things I am currently Not. So, I'm developing Opinions about things. I'm reading some political blogs. (I'm not telling which ones, are you crazy? I don't do confrontation. Not even now, With Opinions. But I will tell you it took me for-freakin-ever to dig through all the EXTREMISTS before I found what I was looking for. Sheesh, there are some Wackos out there.)

Monday, Husband and I refinanced our mortgage after a month of planning and waiting for the closing date. I feel very smart about that, and even though we didn't save an Enormous Bundle on our monthly payment, we knocked our interest rate down a good bit and got out from under PMI, so that's all good. (See? Only Real Grown-Ups use acronyms like PMI.) Next on my list is to reevaluate our 401k plans and make sure we're invested in all the right things, then set up AJ's 529 for college savings, which should have been done a year ago. And, oh yeah, to contribute to it. (Ha! Contribute what, I'm not too sure.) And then: To Organize.

I use a Palm, but since AJ's birth I have not been very good about keeping up with it. But I have declared it is to become The Master Calendar, and I will be the Calendar Keeper. The Social Secretary. The Family Manager. I will know who has a soccer game and who has an orthodontist appointment, because by the time we get to THOSE kinds of commitments, I'll be an old pro. And I'll also be OLD by that time, so it's good that I'll have all these adult habits broken in.

Here is cute

Oh, but we had fun! The whole neighborhood was out -- it was a huge, friendly party in the streets. Someone even had the fire department bring a truck out, and lots of the big kids were riding on the back while the fireman blew the horn a few times (not spooky, but it defnitely scared the pants off me a couple of times)! I was so glad we were a part of the festivities. AJ seemed to have fun... and he scored us some sweet candy, yo! Because you know I'm not letting HIM eat Nerds and Twizzlers. He's only ONE. And he eats only the healthiest of health foods. You know.

We did give him a lollipop when we got home since he was such a good puppy. (Made him shake and roll over first.) I think he was pleased: