Tuesday, February 26, 2008

I'll be showing at the Guggenheim, just you wait and see...

It's 6:30 in the morning, I have dishes to wash, children to breakfast, dress and load into the car, lunches to make and keys to lose. Sometimes I dress myself too, although there have been a few disastrous near-misses.

One of the hideous curses of my existence is that I am at my most clear-headed and productive of the day for a two hour window that opens roughly 45 minutes after I roll out of bed. The largest swathe of this time is generally wasted on Independence Boulevard, trying to enjoy Bob and Sheri while a tiny voice pipes incessant questions about fairies, the atmosphere, slime, addition, or the size of Spongebob's boat.

But I will not let motherhood and wifeitude smother the passions of my generative soul! The voice inside will not be silent all these years but will leak out onto a medium whose achingly transitory nature stands in stark contrast to the granite permanence that is my genius:

I am referring, of course, to lunchbags.















Tuesday, February 12, 2008

What I wrote on the fridge this morning * ...

















What I found in the fridge this afternoon...


















*Because I discovered that, sometime after midnight, my brand new pack of lunch meat had been ripped open, raided, and left open in the deli drawer. No, I don't actually think ferrets did it.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

My day continues to improve...



Which Discworld Character are you like (with pics)
created with QuizFarm.com
You scored as Lord Havelock Vetinari

You are Lord Vetinari! Supreme ruler of Ankh-Morpork! Cool, calculated, and always in control. You graduated from the assassins guild, but failed a course on stealth and camouflage, because the professor never saw you there (even though you attended every class). You always seem to know what everyone is thinking, and after a conversation with you, people feel that they have just escaped certain death.

Order reasserts itself and the Great A'Tuin swims patiently on...

A few updates, since I've not got any good post ideas...

Maui has turned into an absolute monster since Sam has left us for sunnier windowsills. He was never nice to Grace, but now he's beating her up on an hourly basis. It's interesting to realize how much influence Sam apparently exerted, despite being old, creaky, and half Maui's size.

I've got to head to Michael's in a few minutes to get a stepping-stone kit. I had mentioned this to HWLHiJ as a notion for a headstone for Sam, and didn't think it'd made any sort of impression, but he brought it up yesterday, so I guess a) he was listening and b) he actually thought it was a good idea.

*****

Buddy lost his First Tooth Ever on the ride home from school Wednesday. Fortunately, we had a little friend in the car with us who is a pro at losing teeth and who did a bang-up job of calming him down and explaining the wonders of the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy part was fun for me, too.

*****

How apoplectic was everybody on the planet who set their DVRs to record House after the Super Bowl, went to bed, and got up on Monday morning to discover that, since the Super Bowl post-game coverage ran 20 minutes over, nobody knows how a whole brand-new episode of House ENDS? Oh my flingin'flangin' God, I know it shot my whole week to hell. Anyway, Fox finally got a clue and is re-running the episode this Friday, so it's good to know the western hemisphere will soon be able to get a decent night's sleep again.

Me? I rooted for the Giants, mostly to irritate HWLHiJ. Talk about satisfying.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Up next: "I like women who are ornamental and give me advantages in social situations..."

In the car this morning, in the midst of a conversation that careened around the topics of foster care, gross anatomy classes and what color the sky really isn't, Buddy commented that his dad was a good friend and that he planned on being friends with him when he was grown up and didn't need to be taken care of anymore.

Feeling reckless I said, "Is your mom a good friend?"

A serious, thoughtful silence emanated from the back seat. Finally, Buddy said, "I like friends who are real suckers and give me toys and candy whenever I want. That's why Daddy is my friend. I don't think you can be my friend."

It's good to know he's gotten such an important philosophy figured out. And now, more than ever, I have to say I'm completely fine with not being Buddy's friend.