Monday, November 30, 2009
Things I Learned over Thanksgiving
I learned that no matter how many times you've made the same exact menu for Thanksgiving, it still takes all damn day.
I learned that our 40 year old oven could be repaired with hours to spare before Thanksgiving, work beautifully cooking a large meal, then totally conk out after broiling a steak two days later.
I leaned that it is possible to not really give a shit about the oven approximately 3 seconds after realizing it doesn't work again. I also don't give a shit how much it will cost the landlord to replace it.
I learned that I did not have glaucoma when I got that weird pain in my eye on Friday night. It was merely an eyelash.
It took a full 12 hours to figure out it was an eyelash, during which I learned that you should not Google "causes of eyeball pain" if you want to sleep at night.
I learned while Googling "causes of eyeball pain" that there are diseases of the eye so disturbing I may never sleep soundly again.

Thursday, November 26, 2009
With Thanks
So many things to be grateful for this year, so little time to list them all before we sit down to eat. I will give you an abbreviated list:

My family near and far, our children, my friends new and old, good neighbors. You, dear reader. Living in a wonderful city like New York and our community. Our freedom and those who sacrifice to keep it.

I hope you are surrounded by love this Thanksgiving.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009
My Week So Far
Our oven still does not work.We rolled the poultry dice and bought a turkey anyway. Fingers crossed!

Our school is applying for Title I funding, which means every family fills out an application.You are not permitted to cross anything out, so when I accidentally filled out that I earn $0 as a foster parent to my two kids I had to leave it or fill out the form all over again. I chose the former. Now the Federal government thinks I'm fostering my biological children for free.

And how's your week going?

Monday, November 23, 2009
It's Really Fall Now
It's been Fall for awhile, but now that the kids have jumped into their enormous pile of leaves it official.

Friday, November 20, 2009
How often do you talk to your mate/husband/wife/partner/significant other during the day?

John and I each work deadline-driven jobs while we're raising two kids in a NYC apartment the size of a Barbie Dream House minus the dream. It isn't very practical to phone one another several times a day to see what's happening and more often than not there isn't time at the end of the day to have Meaningful Conversation unless we trade sleep for talking. And you know, we would, except we don't sleep as much as pass out from exhaustion.

Lately we've been chatting online about things that we need to remind one another about, things going on with the kids, how awful our morning commute was or who will be working late to meet the aforementioned deadlines.

Some of our conversations get silly, despite the fact that we are talking about something decidedly unsilly. A few months ago we were talking about a funeral we needed to attend and our conversation went like this:
me: hi. found out the funerals at 9am
john: ok
me: also, I ordered and sent the flowers
john: good. are we also ordering a 6ft sandwich?
me: for the funeral?
john: no for the block party {later that same day}

John IM'd me yesterday morning to ask about an event we were thinking of going to. The digital conversation inevitably turned to the kids, namely our son and his penchant for bathroom talk which is becoming a problem. Here's what was transpired:

me: by the way, your son walked into the classroom this
morning saying "Fart, Fart, Fart, Fart"
John: ok. that's it. he promised no more bathroom
talk. he's grounded. what do you suggest. no legos for a
me: isn't it obvious? DEATH BY FART.

Monday, November 16, 2009
Hints and Allegations
Every Prevention magazine cover currently in my To Be Read pile (August -December) says "Shrink Your Belly!" "Defy Your Age-Flatten Your Belly!" "Walk Off Belly Fat!" "Flat Belly Foods-Beat the Bloat!" and "Flat Belly Fix: Fast Solutions for Every Body Type."

So Prevention magazine, WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME?

Sunday, November 15, 2009
All the Excitement I Can Stand
There's been little going on in my world lately except work and work. Also, work, with the odd load of laundry. Our oven is broken, so between work and work I call Vinny, the oven repair man who may or may not show up on Monday night to fix it.

I say he may or may not because I didn't make an appointment for repair work with an assistant or manager of the Oven Fix-It Store. No, I did not make an appointment with a someone who will remind him where he needs to be at a predetermined time, but with Vinny himself who sounded like he was fixing someone else's oven and was thus preoccupied. At least I think he was. For all I know he was just sitting in the coffee shop around the corner banging a wrench against a table to sound busy when all he's really doing is killing time.

Anyway, this is the third time Vinny will fixing our oven. The last time he was here I learned that he knows the detective that handled my identity theft case. Small world.

With all the non-cooking going on in our house, I thought I'd take the kids to the movies yesterday afternoon. We saw Where the Wild Things Are and half of you are shaking your heads saying "That really isn't a kids' movie, lady," and to you I say "whatever." It was a good movie for Sophie, not so much for 4 year old Harry, who grew impatient. As for me, a mother of my own Wild Thing, I loved loved loved it. I thought it was great.

You know what else was great? When we stood up to leave I noticed that the man sitting right behind us happened to be one Mr. Gabriel Byrne. SWOON.

I did notice that he was texting a lot during the movie so if anyone follows him on Twitter and he talks about a lady scarfing popcorn during a movie that was me!

Friday, November 6, 2009
Harry's always been stingy with affection. He is a boy, and as such, has no time to spare from his busy collapsing bridges/super-fast speedways/ultra-high Lego tower building schedule.

Lately though, Harry's been quite the little charmer and knows exactly how to use a little well-timed love to get what he wants.

I went out to feed the birds this morning and noticed him following me.
"Stay inside. You don't have a coat on."
"But I love you!"
"I know but you still have a cough. Watch from the window."
"But I miss you already."
"Oh, Ok! Come out. But just for a minute."

We started using parental controls on the living room television on school mornings and Harry misses it so much he will sit through The Weather Channel which plays on the TV in our room in order to get a little TV time. When I say "you really want to watch Weather on the 8's?" he says "I love Weather on the 8's. AND YOU." (Works every time.)

A request for m&m's right before dinner? "No, I'm cooking. Maybe after dinner." "Did you know that you're the prettiest mom I know?"
"How many m&m's did you say you wanted?"

Thursday, November 5, 2009
Halloween '09
I'm coming down off my sugar high (I'd forgotten how good 100 Grand Bars are! Also, Raisinets, Mary Janes, and fun size Snickers, Kit Kats....). Moldy pumpkins went into the trash heap, costumes have been stuffed back into drawers and closets. The only thing left to do is get rid of the decorative webbing on the fence out front and put away the jointed paper skeletons whose hands the kids positioned to make it look like he has to take a pee. I can finally share some pictures.

First of all, it's hard to make Sophie look scary. But she didn't seem to mind being more on the cute side. Harry is just thrilled that he is about to take a walk for the sole purpose of obtaining candy.
The neighborhood really goes all out. Too bad the Christmas decorations they hung early(?!) clashed with the Halloween decor.
Clone with Harry, who is patiently waiting to get more candy.
Frau Murphy and Indiana Jones on their way to a costume party.

Ja, ja! It was a lot of fun!

The Zombie Cheerleader who also happens to be Frau Murphy's brother and Funniest Costume winner.

And Tom Tom. Excuse me, Sir Tom Tom.