Shiny Happy Mama

Dis-Lycan

2011-01-24T14:27:00.000-08:00

It was a hot, rainy July night. Noah was away at Summer camp and the girls were grouchy - stir-crazy from the rain, sticky and wild-haired from the stifling humidity. It was too early to put them to bed, so Michael and I plugged the laptop into the TV and decided to let them watch some old videos on YouTube.

They loved it - , U2, The Dead Milkmen, Prince, Weird Al, They Might Be Giants, and even this classic. It was like going back to a time when MTV actually was music television.

After we finished watching Video Killed the Radio Star, Michael looked at me conspiratorially and said, "You know what it's a perfect night for, right?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't know. Aviva is still too young, I think."

"Aww, c'mon. It's not that bad. They'll love it!", he cajoled as he searched for the unedited, original video. "Found it!"

"I don't know, babe", I reiterated, shooting a concerned glance toward our easily spooked 4-year-old child.

"Don't be ridiculous. She'll be fine!", he scoffed, then confidently gave my maternal anxiety the final brush-off and clicked play.

What followed, what he insisted would be totally fine, was the full-length version of Thriller.

Aviva's initial reaction was as uneventful as the beginning of Michael Jackson and Ola Ray's ill-fated date. But, just like in the video, things took a turn for the worse when MJ started growing fangs and sprouting whiskers. Aviva began to freak out uncontrollably at the sight of his transformation from high school sweetheart to blood-thirsty werewolf. And then, when he looked up and growled, she screamed with a fear so deep that I didn't think I'd ever be able to calm her down.

Fantastic.

Fast-forward to 11pm that night. Michael and I were clinging to the edges of our bed while Aviva stretched out in the middle, finally asleep after nearly three hours of Thriller-related bedtime drama. "You can say I told you so", Michael said quietly, his regret filling the room.

"I'll never give you the satisfaction", I hissed, yawning, too exhausted to discuss what had happened. With nothing more to say, we both fell asleep.

Weeks and months passed. Aviva never mentioned again how scared she got that night, so we assumed that she had repressed the memory. That theory suited us all very well until a few weeks ago, when Noah started keeping a lunar cycle journal for science class.

"Oh wow, Mom!", he called from our porch one evening last week, "You've gotta come see this gorgeous full moon!"

With those words spoken so innocently by her brother, something inside Aviva's mind snapped. Like a category 5 human tornado, she tore through the living room, screaming wildly in an attempt to stop me from looking at the moon.

"NO! MOMMY, NO! DON'T LOOK AT IT! DON'T LOOK AT IIIIIITTT!!!!! IT WILL MAKE YOU A WEREWOLF! AAAAAAAAAH! NOAH! NOAH! NOEEEEEEEE! STOP IT! STOP SEEING THE MOOOOOOON! YOU'RE GONNA BE A WEREWOLF AND EAT ME UP!!! STOPPPPPP IIIIIIIIIIITTTT! AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

I quickly caught my little whirling dervish of irrational fear as she continued to shriek about the moon's danger. "Aviva, "I said forcefully, trying to grab her attention, "no-one is going to turn into a werewolf and eat you, OK? That stuff is just pretend. Everyone here is still human, see? Noah looked at the moon for a long time and he's still Noah!" I gestured over to Noah to prove my example and discovered that he was on the floor, laughing hysterically. This did not go unnoticed by Aviva.

"NOAH!! STOP LAUGHING AT MEEEEE! RIGHT! NOW!", Aviva raged, "AHHHHH!" She lunged at him, but was easily restrained. I stifled a laugh and told him to run for his life...or at least go finish his homework.

More crying and quiet pleading followed as I held her on my lap, "I (hiccup) don't wanna (hiccup) have a Noah or a mommy who wants to eat (hiccup) me up. No more moon. No (hiccup) more."

Poor Aviva, so traumatized by the funk of forty thousand years. She made us close the drapes and turn on all the lights, then proceeded to curse the moon, werewolves, and Michael Jackson for a good twenty minutes. Our theory of true repression was out the window, having been proven undeniably wrong. That memory was alive and well. She just kept it dormant and needed the right trigger to reanimate it, much like the dead tissue of a dancing zombie.

Once she calmed down a bit, I drew her a bath where she happily relaxed until her fingertips were wrinkled like gorgeous little raisins. Michael toweled her off and, as he did, she hugged him and said, "I hate that werewolf song, Daddy. It's really scares me." He squeezed her in return and promised to never play it again, which seemed to be all she needed to hear.

"Who's ready for a bedtime story?", I chirped, sensing an opportunity to eliminate the thought of werewolves from Aviva's mind forever. I scooped her up, covered her with kisses, and helped her into her favorite monkey pajamas. "Go upstairs and brush your teeth. I'll be right up!"

As she bounced out of the bathroom and up to her room, Michael and I shared a smile and a laugh about the evening's events. "I thought she had forgotten...", he mused.

I shrugged, smiled, and kissed him. Then, hugging him close, I gleefully whispered, "I told you so."

Ten

2010-03-16T06:57:00.000-07:00

At 4:17 AM on March 9th, Noah officially turned double digits! I am completely shocked by how quickly ten years have gone by. It's as if I've savored a decade of motherhood in some sort of bizarre time warp where changes happen instantaneously, but in slow motion.

That tiny 6 pound, 18 inch long infant is now 70 pounds and almost 5 feet tall. That babbling baby now has an unlimited vocabulary and reads at an 8th grade level. That stumbling one year old now leaps over hedges and knows how to ride a skateboard. That two year old banging on the piano can now play jazz and blues. That clingy preschooler who wouldn't leave my side now can't wait to leave for three weeks of overnight camp this Summer. That curious kindergartener who broke things just to see how they worked can now build working things of his own.

He is not little anymore.

(sniffle, sniffle)

That being said, he's not exactly big, either. He is a 'tween. He loves his independence and his friends, but he's not embarrassed when I hug him in public.

Well, not yet, anyway. So, I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

Here's the breakdown. Noah at age ten:

-"Oh, it's been extraordinary!", Noah said, when I asked him how his last day of being nine was going. "I played a huge game of tag at recess with almost everyone in my class and we did cool stuff in science. Plus, it's really nice outside!" That word sums up Noah at age ten: Extraordinary. I know I'm slightly biased, but he's a really great kid.

- In his ten years, he's gained two sisters. They absolutely adore him and he adores them right back. He is a kind, loving, protective big brother. So lucky, my little girls.

- He is a HUGE Celtics fan.

- Noah has a great group of friends and one best friend, Mack, who comes over so often that he's practically family. I love listening to (er...eavesdropping on) them when they talk openly about their friends, things that happen at school, and life in general. It's usually very funny, but it's also very informative and endearing.

- He loves to build stuff out of parts from other things. Recently, he made a working door-opener out of the launcher from a Matchbox race-car track, batteries, copper wire, and some gymp. Last month, he rewired his clock radio to a big, old boombox speaker that he found on the street. Thankfully, he did not wake the entire neighborhood when his alarm went off the next morning.

- Noah eats like he's got a hollow leg that needs filling. Thankfully, he's got an adventurous palate and will try anything once, as evidenced by his love of things like fish eyes, snails, and hot peppers.

- He loves trickery and often tries to fool his sisters into believing the preposterous. Last month, he tried to convince a post-nap Lilah that she had hibernated and that it was actually April.

- He's learning two languages right now - Spanish at his regular school and modern Hebrew at Hebrew school. He's pretty fluent in Spanish and his Hebrew is improving everyday. Sometimes, though, he mixes them up and comes out with crazy sentences that combine Spanish and Hebrew words with English conjunctions. The same thing used to happen to me when I was first learning the same two languages. Plagued by my own trilingual beginner's confusion, I used to joke with my Dad that my brain was like a stew full of paella, Boston cream pie, and falafel. He'd joke back, saying, "It's heartburn in three languages!". Now he makes the same kind of jokes with Noah...and it makes me smile.

- Noah has become an excellent, dedicated pianist. He works very hard on his assigned lesson pieces, but also has a lot of fun just playing around at the piano. He challenges himself by figuring out how to play his favorite songs by ear. In the past few months, he's taught himself songs by Augustana, Coldplay, REM, Regina Spektor, and Jack Johnson. In the past week, he's figured out the instrumental theme from "Up". It's so lovely to have a house that's always full of music.

- He started clarinet this year. Thankfully, it was only the first few weeks that every practice session sounded like a gaggle of tortured geese. He actually plays pretty well now.

- Noah is impressively charismatic and charming. He instinctively knows how to talk to people and has developed quite a way with the ladies. At Aviva's preschool class party a couple of weeks ago, he introduced himself to all of Aviva's very pretty, twenty-something teachers with certainty and complete confidence. When Aviva's teacher, Meaghan, said, "Noah, it's so nice to finally meet you! Aviva talks about you all the time!" Noah shook her hand, looked right into her eyes, smiled, and said, "Oh, it's really a pleasure to be here. Aviva talks about you, too, and likes you a lot. I would love it if you'd show me around the classroom!" Meaghan looked at me with an amused, beguiled expression, then took him on a tour of the classroom - just like that. He also flirts with unsuspecting salesgirls to get free stuff. He and Michael stopped into Melt one evening last week. While Michael got some shaving products, Noah chatted up the salesgirl and came away with complimentary bath salts.
As he grows, I hope he uses these powers for good and only good. I will do my best to make sure that he does.

- He has lots of questions about everything. My favorite recent one, "Mom, do the bumps around my nipples signify my age? You know, like a tree's rings?"

- His body is slowly beginning to change. It won't be too long before you'll need to lock up your daughters.

- It also won't be too long before we need to start thinking about his Bar Mitzvah. Oy vey.

Until then, he is ten, which is an amazing age. I plan to enjoy it and to let him enjoy it, knowing full well that another ten years will pass in the blink of an eye.

Happy decade, Noah. It's been extraordinary.

Night of the Living Noah

2010-02-12T17:30:00.000-08:00

Noah was four when it first happened.

He had been sick and feverish. Several hours after we put him to bed, we heard him coming down the hall. He was crying, speaking nonsensically, and pacing. We tried to settle him down and that's when we realized that HE WASN'T AWAKE.

It happened again and again - every time he got sick and had a fever, he would sleep walk. Sometimes he'd chatter calmly, other times he'd be hysterical and frightened. Either way, it used to freak me out.

Not only was it horror-movie creepy, but I deeply feared, in the most maternal way, that he had some sort of neurological issue

His pediatrician, ever so calm and unflappable, shrugged and said, "It's interesting, but it's nothing alarming. Just make sure that he's safe and that there's nothing he can trip over. He'll probably outgrow it eventually."

That conversation happened five years ago and, while I've stopped worrying, he hasn't shown any signs of outgrowing it yet.

Noah caught Aviva's fever/cough combo and spent most of this past week resting at home. Tuesday night, around 10 o'clock, Michael and I heard him come downstairs.

Pink with fever, he paced restlessly and babbled about battery circuits, armadillos, and chocolate mousse. He eventually sat next to me on the couch, spine straight, seemingly wide awake and sound asleep at the same time.

"Hey buddy,", I whispered, "How are you feeling?"

He rubbed his eyes, looked around, and replied, "Oh, hi Mommy. I'm tired. I think I should probably go to bed."

Then, with a goodnight kiss and as if nothing had happened, he did.

Never a dull moment here at chez Shiny Happy.

Licensed to Ill

2010-02-05T12:23:00.001-08:00

Add to the list of things that my children have in common: All three got dreadfully ill during their first month of preschool. All of those new friends and new germs get their immune systems jumping, telling their bodies, much like Beastie Boys, that it's time to get ill.

(Admittedly, the preschool way of getting ill is much less fun that the Beastie Boy way)

Last week, it was Aviva's turn to have a germy, preschool-related, downward-spiraling lurgy.

It started with congestion. A little cold, I thought. No big deal.

Within 4 hours of the first sniffle, she had a fever of 103 and her nose was dripping like some sort of Kafkaesque faucet.

(cut to me, frantically rearranging my schedule while maternally stroking her hot little head)

She was restless that night, motrin barely touching her fever. Poor thing.

The next day, propelled by lethargy and discontentment, she built herself a nest of throw pillows on couch. Her throne. There she lounged, watching cartoons, taking naps and ordering me around.

Over the next several days, I learned what it was like to be a servant to a hostile queen.

In addition to a constant barrage of impolite demands for tissues and beverages, here are a few of her other demands, verbatim:

"Paint my fingernails! And toes!"

"Tom and Jerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry!!"

"My foot is so cold and buzzy! I need a sock! One sock! ONLY ONE!"

If I was out of the room for more than a minute or two, she let out ear-splitting, banshee-like wail of "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!"

Her lips chapped because she couldn't breathe through her nose (and the stuff from her nose exacerbated the chapping), but every application of chapstick/aquaphor resulted in her screaming, "It spices my mouth! GO AWAY, MAMA!" (this made me a little sad)

Aviva, what would you like for lunch? ... "Chocolate chips!" How about some fruit, too? Or some yogurt? "NO! JUST CHOCOLATE CHIPS!"

I think you need a shower, Aviva... "No shower! Never!"

OK, Aviva. It's time to get out of the shower... "No! I want to stay in!"

"Tell Daddy to come home from work. I WANT DADDYYYYY!"

"Tell the phone to stop ringing!"

It was around day four of her illness that she started complaining of sore ears and her fever spiked to a very worrisome 104.4. So, we went to the pediatrician and found out that she had a double ear infection...and that the infection happened so quickly that it caused her right eardrum to rupture.

I immediately forgave Aviva for her germ-fueled belligerence. I would probably forgo all social graces if my ear canals were full of fluid, too.

She started antibiotics that night and, within 48 hours, was back to her sassy, sweet, only mildly bossy self.

She went back to preschool exactly one week after she got the sniffles. When I picked her up, I was greeted excitedly and got an enormous hug. Her face was animated and her voice full of laughter as she chattered about her day.

Looking at her in that moment and thinking back to that ill, lethargic little tyrant on the couch, I smiled, relieved.

I sure did miss her.

Shiny Happy 2010

2010-01-22T05:44:00.000-08:00

Recent shiny happiness, in no particular order...

- Aviva started preschool. It's one of those small, pretentious schools that takes itself very seriously and offers the children organic lunches, music class, and a Mandarin tutor. But, they also seem to have lot of fun and Aviva really likes it there. Plus, it's a five minute walk from my house. I'll take a touch of pretense over a long commute any day.

- Noah made this observation about a recent substitute teacher: "He played football in college and majored in Criminal Justice. So, basically, he was just like Arnold Schwartzenegger in "Kindergarten Cop", but without a gun or a funny accent."

- I recently overheard this short conversation between Lilah and a friend: Lilah's friend said, "I am highly trained in the Jedi arts!" Lilah replied, matter-of-factly, "I really don't think you are."

- I also overheard Lilah, on the phone with my mother, saying "Grammy, I need to tell you three things: 1.) I love you. 2.) I love Gramps 3.) Mommy is weird." When she handed the phone to her brother, I tickled her ferociously and covered her with kisses...because I'm weird like that.

- Aviva is in the "why?" and "how come?" stage. She wants to know everything about everything and it's just awesome... "Mama, what does sharks eat?... Does they eat the fish cooked or just wet in the ocean?...How does sharks swim if they are out of the ocean?...How come they can't come out but seals can?...".

- Aviva has also reached the age where she has just enough long-term memory to wax nostalgic. Just last night, as I was tucking her into bed, she looked through her skylight and said, "I see the moon. Mama, d'you amember in the Summah when it was late at night and dark outside and we sitted on the deck togedder and the moon was smilin' at me?" "Yes, I do remember that, Aviva. That was a nice night." "Yeah Mama. I love that night." "And I love you!", I said as I kissed her goodnight, hugged her warm little body, and silently wished for all of her memories to be so sweet.

- Noah often negotiates with us in order to stay up late. Last week, he tried to spin his argument by saying that he wanted to watch Nova with us, but it wasn't on. So, with kisses, we sent him upstairs to read and go to bed. In frustration, he grumbled and flexed his muscles at me. I dead-panned, "I'm terrified. Go to bed, please." He grinned and, with just the right amount of irony in his voice, said, "Mommy, I just adore your sarcasm."

- Aviva is developing her own way with words. An "H" at the beginning of a word turns into an "F", which means that we are "fumans" and that whales are "fuge animals in the sea!". Perfect is "perftick". "Th" turns into an "F" sound and my heart melts when she says, "I fink you're the bestest Mama on Earf.". That being said (and thanks to her siblings), she also delights in swearing creatively to gain attention. I definitely try not to encourage it (especially now that she's in preschool), but it's hard not to crack a smile when your almost-four-year-old year old spouts off words like "penis crank!" and "fuckie pops!". Thankfully, she has no contextual reference for such things. Not so true with "labia" or "tampon", though. She adores those words so much that she sometimes incorporates them into little songs that she sings to herself. Slightly mortifying? Sure, but I love that she is so brazen. It's going to be a lot of fun to help her use that girl power for good.

- Speaking of words, Lilah has a friend named Willa. Aviva loves Willa's name and enjoys saying it over and over again..."Willa! Wiiiiiiilllllllaaaa. WILL-a. will-AH! WillaWilla!" This cracks Noah and Lilah up and inevitably leads to them reciting this scene from "Elf".

- Lilah was recently asked what she wants to be when she grows up. She thought about it for a minute, then answered, "You know, I'm only seven. I don't really know because I'm not even close to being a grown up yet, but if I had to guess, I would say I'd probably be a Ninja or a veterinarian."

- After coming to the realization of what I want to be when I grow up, I left my job at the wellness center after months of feeling dissatisfied and displaced within it's ever-changing, increasingly corporate environment. It was a nerve-wracking decision, but it was also exhilarating and very correct. So, after many hugs and a few teary moments, I've moved on. Hooray for more meaningful work and continued education!

- With regard to the previous blurb: Not many husbands would so bravely face the implications of saying, "Just quit and go after what you really want to do. We'll be OK." So lucky am I to have such a supportive guy in my life.

- That supportive guy and I have made an insanely awesome arrangement with two of his employees (who happen to be roommates). They use our parking space in exchange for a ridiculously low rent...and babysit for free twice a month. Best. Deal. Ever.

- In order to look my best on our semimonthly date nights, I got my hair colored for the very first time last week. This decision was prompted by Michael, who gazed at me as I sat reading by the window and said, "Remember when we were first married and you found your first gray hair?" I said, "Yeah. What made you think of that?" He cautiously replied, "Well, it was just the way the light was hitting your hair." Mmm-hmm. Five minutes later, I made an appointment with Vicki, who has been my hairdresser for three years. When she realized that I had never colored my hair before, she gave me a hug and jested, "It's your first time?! I feel like I should be giving you flowers!". She mixed my natural dark brown shade with a touch of auburn and it looks great. I wish I had done it sooner!

- Other than that, there's not much else to report. I had the flu in early December, but felt better just in time to enjoy Chanukah, Lilah's birthday, and the kids' school vacation. All five of us stayed up past midnight on New Years Eve. I entered 2010 in my husband's arms, watching three wonderful kids dance around the living room, and feeling absolutely Shiny Happy without any irony.

Seven!

2009-12-29T13:53:00.000-08:00

Lilah is 7.

Actually, she's been seven since December 16th.

I have not had a lot of time to write lately, so this is a belated birthday blog!

Lilah at seven. Here we go:

- Tall! Four feet tall to be exact.

- So smart. At the Fall parent-teacher conference, Lilah's teacher described her as "A model student...excellent math skills...attentive and thoughtful...great at problem solving. A good friend, too, and an excellent member the class." I blushed with pride...and couldn't believe that a child with half of my DNA had any math skills, never mind excellent ones.

- She is quirky, with a dark sense of humor. When asked to draw a house in art class, she drew a haunted house with a corpse in the doorway.

- She is very intuitive, which is probably why she has such a dark side. She knows that good and evil can coexist and can usually figure people out pretty quickly.

- She is scarily good at reasoning...even with herself!

- She talks in her sleep. After working late, Michael went into her room to check on her and, as he kissed her forehead, she sleepily exclaimed, "Oh! My sweet prince! You have come to kiss me!". Also, after losing her second tooth a few weeks ago, Michael and I went to take her tooth from under her pillow and replace it with a dollar. When we did, she said, "I was hoping to meet you, Tooth Fairy!", sound asleep all the while.

- Though she tends to be on the quiet side, Lilah is a popular girl. Her teacher and I both think it's because she's easy-going, but plays on her own terms. She knows how to have fun with her friends, but she's nobody's doormat.

- She loves science, especially anything having to do with animals, weather, or chemistry. She is fearless when it comes to all types of critters - even creepy, crawly, slimy ones.

- She loves music and has pretty diverse taste. She'll listen to pretty much anything as long as it's not "too noisy". For her birthday, Michael and I took her to see Wicked, which was playing in Providence. She was already very familiar with the music, but had never seen a live musical production of any kind before. When the lights went down and the orchestra took that "ff" on the opening bars seriously, the look on her face was just incredible. Pure awe and joy. It made me so glad that we could give her such a special day.

- She loves art, both creating it and admiring it.

- Because of that, she really enjoys visually stunning movies. Some of her favorites are Coraline, Nightmare Before Christmas, The Princess Bride, The Wizard of Oz, E.T., The Never-Ending Story, Spirited Away, and Ponyo. She also really likes Pixar movies and old cartoons, especially Tom and Jerry and Looney Tunes.

- She truly appreciates the absurd.

- She is the only 1st grader I've ever met that enjoys going to Hebrew school.

- She adores books. Her favorites thus far: Matilda, Superfudge, the Beverly Cleary "Ramona" books, the Junie B. Jones series, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great, and several smaller story books. If I listed all of her favorite short story books, it would take all day, but my favorite short story to read with her is this one. Such a lovely little book.

- She loves to help me cook. Molasses cookies are our specialty.

- She is still, as far as we know, severely allergic to all things dairy - milk, butter, yogurt, cheese, etc. Until recently, she took it in stride, but, understanding now that it's a hindrance, she's having a tough time with it. Last week, she cried because she couldn't have regular ice cream. She had never been so emotional about her allergy before. The only thing we can do is to get her retested this Spring and hope for the best. She already outgrew her egg allergy, so maybe her immune system will kick this one to the curb, too.

- She played soccer this past Fall. It was her first time doing any sort of team sport and she enjoyed it enough to want to do it again in the Spring!

- She still has some sweet little habits and malapropisms leftover from her toddler/preschool years. Beef is still "beeth", big toes are still "foot thumbs". She still sleeps with Teddy, her well-loved bear, every night. She still curls up in my lap when she's sad or tired. I treasure these last vestiges of her smaller years in the hopes that my sentimentality will act as some sort of headwind against the push of time. Growing children are inevitable, though, and time pushes harder than I do. She will get bigger and outgrow her cute Little Lilah habits to make room for more grown up mannerisms. That being said, I do think that whomever she marries will have to leave room in the bed for Teddy.

Happy 7th, Lilah Rachel. I love you. xoxox

The Newtonian Mechanics of Parenting

2009-11-18T18:19:00.000-08:00

I once had a wonderful teacher who said, "It's all physics."

So true. Even with parenting.

Remember last week, with all the swearing?

It could have happened again last night, at the same time, within the same context: Dinner table, happy conversation, good music.

But no. Not after the long day I had.

The second I heard Gordon Gano nasally warbling - Day....Afte-er day... - I bolted across the kitchen and started a different playlist.

I was just too tired to indulge in a cacophony of cursing children. I was also in no mood to explain why getting just one fuck does, in fact, have something to do with luck.

So, because of my overall disposition at that moment, I skipped a wild song to maintain the peace and quiet. Last week, for the same reason, I let a quiet, though risque, song lead to a bit of happy chaos.

Once the kids were asleep and I mentally took stock of my day, I laughed at how my decision to turn off "Add It Up" was such a contradiction to last week's lenient, hilarious dinnertime distraction. I laughed at the contradiction of the songs themselves: one is a controlled lamentation by a woman complaining about her dickhead boyfriend, the other is frenetic expression of sexual frustration by a man who is kind of being a dickhead. Juxtaposed, these two situations got my synapses crackling and I started thinking about the predictable, scientific nature of my reactions. After several moments, I came to my Newtonian conclusion:

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Even when it comes to music. Especially when it comes to parenting. And it really is ALL physics.

A Precision Display of Bad Temper

2009-11-14T12:30:00.000-08:00

This past week was kind of a mess, logistically speaking.

We had Noah's best friend sleep over Tuesday night because there was no school on Wednesday. On Thursday, there was a half day (of unknown etiology) for the older two, then Aviva started a new and much bigger gym class that afternoon. On Friday, I had to catch up on errands and ended up dragging my poor, beleaguered children all over town to accomplish everything in a timely manner...just so I could get home and catch up on the laundry. Sigh.

All of these minor disruptions to our normal - yet equally hectic - routine precipitated the need to blow off some steam on Friday night.

As we ate dinner (30 minutes late, of course. If I served a meal on time, my husband might die of shock.), I had my lastFM station on in the background. It was nice and relaxing; happy conversation and delicious food scored by acoustic and indie rock. That is, until this song came on.

Noah was highly amused.

"Mom, did she just say the F word? And dickhead??!!!?"

"Yes."

(hysterical laughter from all three children)

"Mom, can we have a swear night? Can we use swear words until bedtime?"

"You can have a swear five minutes."

With that, all of the pent-up angst of their daily frustrations and messed-up week came pouring out. It was amazing to watch as they indulged themselves in some parentally-sanctioned inappropriateness.

Noah spewed obscenities about school and life, hurled his homework folder to the ground, then threw some punches in the air.

Gleefully taking part in what is normally verboten, Aviva stood on her chair, took off her shirt, and called us all "crazy fuckheads" - giggling madly the entire time.

Lilah's reaction to my permissive moment was impressively calculated and measured. She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw, inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled, evenly hissing these three words...

"My. Fucking. Brother."

Like I said, amazing.

I think that everyone felt a little better after all curses were said and outbursts were done. Five minutes, though unconventional, very well spent.

Next week, our routine will be back to normal and I probably won't be tempted to allow such ribaldry...but I can't help being really fucking excited for the next time Noah asks for a swear night.

Autumnal Shiny Happiness

2009-11-07T12:38:00.000-08:00

- There is something so simply wonderful about this time of year. I love watching the kids crunch through the leaves as they walk home from school. I love how the cooler air makes me want to cook warm, comforting things. I love the colors, of course, and how they make even the smallest tree look like a superstar. I'm cherishing the next few weeks because, after that, there will be nothing but cold until March.

- Because of this article, I have decided to stop using ground beef. So far, no-one misses it.

- My friend Salina is pregnant! Salina is married to E, whose friendship I've been privileged to have since 5th grade. This baby is so lucky to have such bright, fun, and kindhearted parents. I cannot wait until May!

- Halloween was great. We took a Pirate, a Witch, and Darth Vader out on a perfectly spooky, full-mooned haunt...despite the fact that the Pirate had a touch of scurvy.

- Aviva had a very hard week last week. She got her H1N1 vaccine and reacted to it by developing a fever and pervasive grouchiness for two days. A day and a half after the fever subsided, she showed symptoms of conjunctivitis, so we had the doctor call in a prescription for eye drops. After two doses, she broke out in hives everywhere - head to toe - and started having some intestinal distress. It was a little scary, but once the benadryl kicked in and the bactrim worked it's way out of her system, she was back to her sassy, sweet self.

- I recently watched the "Return of the Jedi" with Lilah. Upon first seeing Princess Leia in that gold bikini, she protested, "What is she wearing??? Why is she chained?? She needs to win and she cannot win like THAT!" Her first actively feminist moment. Awesome.

- Noah's class is doing a drama workshop. He loves it and uses his new "mime skills" to make his sisters laugh.

- Michael and I have (finally!) instituted a monthly date night. Last night, we stayed in our neighborhood - dinner here and a movie here. Dinner was great, especially for a restaurant that just opened. We loved the vibe there and felt very comfortable lingering over our pumpkin creme brulee. At the movie theater, we saw "An Education", which is now one of my top 5 reasons why I love all things Nick Hornby.

- While we were waiting for our table last night, Michael and I wandered into the Booksmith and had some fun. At first, we pretended not to know each other, but the jig was up when Michael kissed me in the cultural studies section. I coyly objected, saying that, if he wanted to sexually harass me in the bookstore, we'd have to move to the sexuality and erotica section. After that, we browsed some more and eventually wandered over to the magazines. As I thumbed through the latest issue of Heeb, I noticed an ad for this and laughed because there is also a breast-pump with the same name. I showed Michael and told him why I was laughing, then, in a more hushed tone, said, "Can you imagine double Freestyling? I think that could cause some kind of injury or spontaneous combustion!" That statement earned me the dirtiest look I have ever gotten in my life, delivered by an octogenarian standing about 3 feet away. I raised my eyebrows in response, then just continued to laugh quietly, savoring his prudish scorn.

- Speaking of scornful elders, my parents' 40th wedding anniversary is on Thanksgiving. Very exciting and admirable! My sister and I have planned a party, which we hope won't be a complete failure because of the holiday.

- I have more news for you, but will have to share it next time :)

It Burns When I Press Play

2009-10-15T13:16:00.000-07:00

It's a dreary, cold late afternoon.

Noah went to a friend's house and the girls, after exhausting themselves at the playground, asked to watch a movie.

"Sure", I said. "Pick one out. If you can't decide, we can check to see what's on demand."

Aviva excitedly quipped, "I wanna watch a movie on V.D.!!"

(cut to a speechless Cori, looking bemused and bewildered)

"She means D.V.D.", explained Lilah, who was looking at me with an expression that read: Oh pity, my poor, stupid mother.

"That's what I said, Lilah - V.D.!!!!", exclaimed Aviva, sorting through a pile of DVDs at her feet.

Smirking, I helped them make their choice - Nightmare Before Christmas - and started the movie.

As we watched the opening credits and snuggled on the couch, Aviva looked up at me and said,

"Thank you for the V.D., Mommy. I love this one."

I gave her a kiss, tried not to laugh, and hoped that she only had a mild case of Oogey Boogeys.

Occupational Preoccupation

2009-10-13T04:59:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't written lately.

I am constantly preoccupied.

Every morning, I get up and feel like my feet are firmly planted in the sand. As the day begins, the undertow pulls me down to face an enormous, quickly approaching wave full of stuff to swim through - showerchildrenworkworkshoppingcookinglaundrythinkthinkbudgetmoneyerrandsappointmentsdon'tforgetsignthishelpmehomeworkpracticecleanupbathsreadastorybedtime. So, I just keep swimming. On most days, if I stop long enough to write, I will drown.

Add to this my ever increasing work-related angst. That's really what I want to write about, but, if I do, I run the risk of being entombed in a sarcophagus of swaddle blankets, mummified with lanolin ointment and disposable nursing pads...or fired. Either of those situations would lead to literal or figurative discomfort. So, mummies the word, lest I upset the goddesses.

Lately, I've also been less enthusiastic about telling people what I do, especially when I'm not feeling chatty. More specifically, I've been hesitating to talk shop with mothers of young children because, sometimes, they see it as a green light to chatter aimlessly about their birth and postpartum experiences. I can't seem to figure out a polite way to get out of these sentimental, occasionally self-justifying monologues without "accidentally" tripping one of my own children, causing a scrape that requires immediate kisses and band-aids.

But I could never do that. So I do what I do - listen, nod, smile, offer reassurance.

I think I'm going to start telling people that I'm a psychic. That way, when they start to respond, I can cut them off with, "No need to talk - I already know what you're going to say."

I'm becoming desensitized, maybe even burnt out. I know.

Let's move onto some shinier, happier things, shall we?

- Noah started playing clarinet and has already made extraordinary progress. I normally don't like to make sweeping generalizations about his natural talents, but he really seems to be the kind of person that can pick up any instrument and teach himself how to play it. Wowza.

- Lilah started soccer and is an animal out there on the field. She's normally so serene, quirky, and whimsical. The juxtaposition is kind of awesome.

- Noah's best friend sleeps over almost every weekend. He's such a great kid and I'm so glad that he's become part of our crew.

- Lilah's girlfriends all have names that begin with A or S. Michael and I joke that Lilah is the Veronica.

- Aviva kicks my ass at Memory on a daily basis. She also LOVES to dance and will get her groove on to everything from Daft Punk to show-tunes to Lady Gaga to The Ramones.

- Michael and I just spent a weekend alone for the first time in ages. My parents picked the kids up on Friday afternoon and brought them back Sunday evening. Not a moment was wasted - we started with dinner and drinks at our favorite pub, slept until 11 AM, took our time roaming through the MFA, walked through the city, saw Ben Affleck filming a movie, indulged in an amazing dinner here, loved a lot, laughed a lot, didn't turn the tv on at all, and enjoyed every second. Our days normally move so fast that we rarely get to just hang out together. It was refreshing to have time like that - uncensored, uninterrupted, easy-breezy grown-up time. A marital oasis.

It's nice to have the kids home, though, and they had a great time being over-indulged. Without trepidation, we all began trekking like urban sherpas again today...but now we know to make more frequent stops.

Recent Shiny Happiness

2009-08-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

In no particular order...

- Lilah lost her first tooth! I was at work when it fell out, but Michael said that she was very surprised. "It just didn't seem wiggly enough to fall out yet", she said. She wrote the tooth fairy a lovely note expressing her excitement and asking about her favorite color and candies. The tooth fairy replied with a note answering her questions (pink, pink bubblegum) and congratulating Lilah on losing her first tooth. She also left a little present and a dollar. So nice, that tooth fairy.

- Noah is in the throes of that "girls are yucky" stage. As I was tucking him in last night, I commented on how handsome he is and teasingly said that there must be a lot of little girls who have crushes on him. He sighed a completely disgusted and exasperated sigh and said, "Um, NO-OOO. And I don't have crushes any girls, either!" "Really? How come?", I said. "Because", he said, "girls are awful and cold and spiky." The conversation continued for a bit and we agreed that his sisters are an exception. Then he came out with this gem of an observation...

"Yeah, Lilah is just annoying. But, what's good is that she'll probably be less annoying when she turns seven. And Aviva is a little cutie now. She's so funny and sweet. But bad news - she'll get more annoying when she turns four. So, I'll probably always have at least one annoying sister."

- I took Aviva to see Ponyo - her first trip to the movie theater. We got to our seats just as the movie began. Her whole face just lit up with wonder and awe as the first images filled the screen. She sat still the whole time, completely mesmerized by the beautiful animation and whimsical story. I had forgotten how magical the movies can be and I'm so glad that Aviva reminded me.

- Noah and Lilah enjoyed 6 weeks of day camp. They swam everyday, went fishing, sang songs, did art projects, played games, tie-dyed t-shirts, went zip-cording, made friends, and did all sorts of sports. They are tan and strong...and already excited to go back next Summer.

- All three kids are totally free for the next two weeks. I love having them home and am so happy to be able to share these relaxing last days of Summer with them.

- School starts September 8th. Noah is ready for 4th grade, Lilah is ready for 1st grade. I, on the other hand, am not ready for anything.

- Lilah loves the song "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure. However, she thinks that, because Robert Smith is so creepy looking, he is saying "zombie, zombie, zombie" instead of "show me, show me, show me".

- I was very happy with the final results of So You Think You Can Dance. However, just before the finale, I was complaining to my friend, Dave, about one of the finalists, saying that I was tired of his "Gee-gaw, aw shucks bullshit". Dave replied, "What the HELL happened to you?! Shiny Happy, my ass. You sound more like Crusty Jaded Mama to me." Heh. Gee thanks, Dave. Aw, shucks.

- For the first time since he started taking piano lessons, we decided to maintain Noah's lesson schedule throughout the Summer. He made astounding progress throughout the school year and it just made sense for him (and his teacher) to keep going at the same pace. It was a GREAT decision. In addition to his lesson pieces over the last few months, Noah has also taught himself how to play this, this, this, and this. He even lets me sing with him sometimes.

- Lilah is becoming quite the bookworm. I hope she continues to love reading and that, when she's older, she and I can have our own private book club - just the two of us.

- Michael has an unfair trick up his sleeve. If he senses that I am about to argue or complain, he immediately starts flirting with me in an Israeli accent... "Eh, Cori. Why don't you bring your sweet poontachat over here? I'll take you to disco and then you come back to my shack. Sounds nice, eh? B'seder, motek." It's infuriating...and hilarious...and kind of hot. Ugh!

- Aviva is an alpha female, a ring leader. When we're at the park, she uses her three-year-old charisma and charm to form a posse that follows her lead. I don't know whether to be very proud or very afraid.

- We went to Maine to visit my sister-in-law and her family. They have an enormous amount of land, complete with their own creek. It was a scorcher of a day, so the kids had a blast swimming with their cousins. Their uncle also built a 50-yard, home-made Slip-N-Slide (on a steep hill, of course!). Wicked awesome, wicked fun.

- While we were driving through rural Maine to get to my sister-in-law's house, Noah, city punk that he is, said, "There is really NOTHING out here. I feel like there should be banjos playing!". Then he started singing this melody. Michael had to pull over because he was laughing so hard!

That's all for now. Have a shiny, happy day. :)

Thirty-Something Woman Dies Laughing

2009-08-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

Well, almost.

Yesterday was a lovely day. I didn't have to work. I got some chores done and did some yoga. Aviva and I watched a movie, played outside, and baked some delicious brownies. Noah and Lilah came home from camp chatty and happy. Michael got home before dinner - a rare occurrence these days - and kissed me like he hadn't seen me in weeks.

Dinner was on the table by 6:30 and all five of us sat down together. Family dinners at our house are noisy affairs. The kids joke around, tell silly stories, and we all usually laugh a lot.

Last night was no different.

Noah is an excellent story-teller. He's theatrical. His timing and delivery are always spot-on. Last night, he was telling us about playing a trick on one of the teenage Junior Counselors earlier in the day.

"...So, I went up to her and said, "Hey! You have a big spider in your hair. And she was like (dramatic pause).....AAAAAAAAAAH! Oh my God! AAAAAAAH! Get it OFF! Get it OFF!" (complete with flailing, stomping and head-shaking)

Normally, I would have laughed and then scolded him for playing tricks on people, but, right before he started mimicking her reaction, I had taken a sip of water.

So, I laughed and all of that water went right into my lungs. Throat closed. No air. No sound.

But I was still LAUGHING...which certainly wasn't helping the situation.

After about 35 more seconds with no air, I went from silly, airless laughing to panicked, airless crying. My head felt like it might explode. My lungs ached. Every ounce of my body was tense. I could hear Michael saying, "Cori! Breathe! Oh my god!". Lilah sounded as panicked as I felt when I heard her say, "Mommy! Are you OK?".

Another 30-40 seconds passed before I heard a seal-like barking noise. Slowly, I realized that the noise had come from me. I tried to breathe again and heard another barking noise. Then I felt the air. And took another few breaths. And coughed a more human-sounding cough.

Michael rubbed my back. The kids looked worried and confused. I said, "I'm OK, it's over. I just choked. I'll be fine."

"Jeez", said Noah, wrapping his arm around me, "Remind me to never make you laugh again!"

"I know!", I replied, giving him a kiss, "I almost died laughing!"

Then my day went back to being lovely, with lots more laughter and brownies for dessert.

Exclusivity

2009-07-17T05:10:00.000-07:00

It all began with some innocent dinner table chit-chat.

Noah said to his sisters, "Who do you like better, Tom or Jerry?"

Lilah immediately cast a vote for the little mouse and Aviva got MAD.

"Lilah", she huffed, "I like Jerry. NOT YOU. ONLY ME."

Lilah laughed, which made Aviva even angrier.

I decided to thwart a tantrum by saying, "Girls, you can both like Jerry."

Aviva gave me her mean face. And growled.

"No. I like Jerry. JUST ME."

Sigh.

This little incident sparked two days of the world revolving around Aviva.

Since then, she has revoked the idea that I am also Noah and Lilah's mom (a silly argument, since I'm fairly certain that I gave birth to them.). She won't let me kiss or hug Michael, saying, "NO! My Daddy!"

To make matters worse, Lilah came down with a little fever and had to stay home from camp for two days. My need to focus on her turned Aviva into a whiny beast. Every activity had to be her choice, every moment I spent tending to Lilah was scored with shrill whines.

Today, Lilah is back at camp, feeling better.

Aviva also starts My Gym class today. Let's hope that she has too much fun to notice that she's not running the show and that my mantra - it's just a phase, it's just a phase - makes this stage of the 3's go by quickly.

An Effort

2009-07-15T15:55:00.000-07:00

I am going to blog more. I am making an effort, as evidenced right this very second.

Rather than take forever to catch you up on the little, insignificant day-to-day stuff, I'll just say...
It's Summer. Finally.

And I'm coming off of a hedonistic week.

When a busy mom who works a crazy, unrealistic schedule gets an opportunity to fly across the country by herself for a week, she should totally go.

I know. I did.

Technically, I was only truly by myself for 3 days. The other four days were spent with my parents, cousins, aunts, and uncles - all of us celebrating my cousin's marriage to a wonderful woman.

Let me break it down for you, dance-remix style...

Day 1 - Get up at 3AM. Drink a lot of coffee. Watch a thunderstorm and hope that my flight still plans to leave on time. Taxi. Airplane. 1 hour delay. Race across the Phoenix airport to make connecting flight. (Which I do, but barely. I was the last one on the plane.) Land in California. Immediately get a sunburn.

The hotel is cute in the way that poodle skirts and saddle shoes are cute, but the view makes up for it. Apparently, they call it the Inn at Sunset Cliffs for a reason. Cliffs, ocean, sun. Perfect. From the balcony I see my cousins and aunt. Beers are cold, wine is opened, and the fun begins.

Sometime later, I go upstairs to shower and discover that two shower-heads are way better than one.

Later that evening, I have dinner with a dear old friend. We catch up, laugh, and eat until the restaurant closes. So much fun!

Day 2: Laziness and jet lag consume me. I get up and walk on the beach for awhile, then read until other people start to wake up. Once everyone shows signs of life, we head to La Jolla for my cousin's rehearsal lunch. We eat, drink, and celebrate, then explore for a few hours. La Jolla is amazing and I want to move there.

Back at the poodle skirt by the sea, my other aunt, uncle, and cousins have arrived. We promptly barge into their room, start laughing, start drinking, and then all go out to dinner.

I don't really remember a lot about the rest of day 2.

Day 3: Happy 4th of July! Happy Bryan and Andrea's wedding day!! The official festivities don't start until 5 PM, so we all order breakfast burritos from a little shop down the street and listen to my Dad complain about how he hates Mexican food. We get him and his pitiful palate a bagel and lounge by the pool until it's time to get beach-wedding beautiful.

My cousin walked down the aisle to this. So true!

Andrea, my new cousin, the bride, looked incredible - radiant, happy, and gorgeous.

The ceremony was so very romantic. Bryan and Andrea went hiking on their first date and, along the way, found some cairns. Some of us had stones on our chairs and were asked to come to the chuppah and build a cairn for them, as family and friends are their guideposts through life. One of Andrea's friends read an excerpt from the Massachusetts law books regarding marriage - gay or straight - as a loving partnership built upon mutual trust and respect. My Aunt Leah, Bryan's mom, read a beautiful passage about love and family. Glass was broken, kisses exchanged, and shouts of MAZAL TOV echoed off of the cliffs.

All that followed was more amazingness - great food, homemade sangria, hilarious toasts, a perfect sunset, fireworks, a full moon, and dancing in the sand to the pop hits of the 80's and 90's. I don't remember going to bed, but I know I did at some point.

Day 4: Most of my relatives are up with the sun and heading to the airport. We exchange groggy hugs and I go back to bed for awhile.

My parents, cousin Andrew, and I decide that brunch and a trip to the San Diego zoo are in order. We won't let our hangovers hold us back - no way!

Brunch here is delicious. The zoo, as I'm sure you've heard, is incredible. And fun. And exhausting. After an afternoon of laughing at chimps and cooing over bear cubs, we kiss Andrew goodbye at the bus station.

My parents and I decide on a lovely dinner here and say goodbye, as they are taking a late-night flight back to Massachusetts.

Day 5: I move to a hotel downtown - a place way nicer than the poodle skirt I've been sleeping under.

I decide to visit the MCA. The museum itself is not that great, but the man working there is one of the most beautiful creations I've ever seen. And very nice. He and I chatted about art for awhile, then he drew me a map and told me about some fun places to visit.

Off I go, exploring downtown San Diego all day. More art, some funky shops, beautiful sunshine. My credit card dies from exhaustion. Around 5 PM, my stomach growls like a beast and I realize that I've eaten nothing all day.

Greek food here. The best I've ever had.

Rest, digest, and watch a movie at the hotel. Go out to hear some jazz and have a drink. Sleep very, very well.

Day 6: Up, shower, and out right away. I get on one of those horrendous tourist trolleys just so I don't have to rent a car or take taxis all day. All day pass for $30 - clearly the most economical choice.

First stop - Coronado. It's super pretty and has lots of nice shops. I spend the morning there, just lounging by the ocean, sipping coffee, and walking around.

Next stop - Old Town. I meet my friend, Lisa, and her two cute kiddos for lunch. We chat, laugh, chase her toddler, and eat mountains of Mexican food. After lunch, I walk around for about 10 minutes and decide that I don't like Old Town.

I get back on the god-foresaken trolley and head to Balboa Park. Balboa Park is awesome.

I wander the grounds, just happy to be outside and untethered. After a couple of hours, I decide to check out the art museum. It's small, but they have a nice collection of contemporary Mexican paintings. They also were housing this exhibit, which was pretty interesting.

Upon looking at a nude portrait that Avedon took of Rudolf Nureyev, I was astounded by the size of Nureyev's maleness. He must have had to roll it up like a firehose in order to dance.

The woman standing next to me was astounded, too. We looked at eachother and, like 12 year old girls, started (quietly) giggling. After a brief exchange of "wow" and "can you imagine?...", I came to learn that she grew up in Sacramento, lives in Tokyo, and was also in town for a wedding. We spent the rest of the afternoon just talking and walking through the park, then made plans to meet for dinner and drinks.

Which we did. And had a great time...all thanks to Nureyev's penis.

Day 7: Pack. Tummy ache. Hangover. Blah.

Coffee, bagel, and a book on the hotel rooftop.

Taxi to the airport at noon. 2 hour lay-over in Phoenix. I land Boston around midnight and reach my front door by 1 AM. Michael, awake, wraps me up in an enormous bear hug before I even have a chance to put my purse down. I drift upstairs and hug the kids while they sleep.

We fall into bed, happy to be next to eachother.

Aviva opens our bedroom door at 6 AM and, in happy disbelief, exclaims, "MAMA!!". Within moments, all 3 warm-limbed, newly wakeful children are in my arms.

And I am home.

Sigh

2009-05-27T13:14:00.000-07:00

Oh, how I have been ignoring this blog!

I think about writing. I do. But then someone inevitably needs a band-aid or a snack or a hug or help with homework or permission or supervision...and the writing never happens.

Sigh.

So, here I am on this dismal afternoon, with one child under the weather and the other two playing upstairs. In this moment, I have time on my hands.

And I cannot think of anything to write about.

Three

2009-04-28T08:10:00.000-07:00

Aviva is three.

On April 19th, it had been three years since my glorious, normal labor turned into the scariest experience in my life.

Three years since her heart rate dropped further and further and didn't come back up for what seemed like an eternity. Three years since my doctor had to vacuum her blue, posterior-positioned head out of me.

So, on her birthday, while she plays and eats cake, I quietly celebrate her existence.

Aviva at age three is a wonderful thing.

Here are her stats:

She's about 3 feet tall and weighs about 30 pounds.

Her eyes have seemed to settle upon green as their final answer.

She is FINALLY potty-trained.

She has a full vocabulary and a matching set of opinions.

She is terrified of bugs and the dark.

She loves pink.

She loves being silly, laughing, and making people laugh. She's pretty witty for a little girl!

She's a natural swimmer and has taken to the water like a "sharp".

She's extremely independent and does not take kindly to unsolicited help.

She takes good care of her baby dolls and loves real babies.

She's very neat and tidy.

Her favorite foods are olives, cheese, fruit, cucumbers, chocolate cake, and ice cream.

She adores her brother and sister and watches their every move.

When she's tired, hurt, or upset, she still likes to be cradled.

She is a joyful, mild-mannered child (most of the time).

Her smile lights up all of my days.

Happy Three, Aviva.

Minutiae

2009-03-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

I know it's been forever since I've written an update post, but it's been non-stop here at chez Shiny Happy since late January.

I have some time this morning, though, and thought I'd say hi.

Hi.

Two months of Shiny Happy stuff, in no particular order...

- Lilah's friend, when asked who his best friends are, said, "I think Lilah is a different kind of girl and I really like her. She likes playing in the dirt, she isn't afraid of bugs, and she knows a lot about Star Wars."

- The frog exhibit at the MOS is super cool. The Mythical Creatures exhibit was also pretty cool, but it scared the hell out of the girls. It's been 6 weeks since we went to see it and Aviva is still working through her fear of Medusa.

- Noah's pool party went swimmingly. He also got a new bike from my insanely generous parents. He loves it and, if allowed, would ride around town all day.

- Speaking of swimming, Aviva is becoming more and more fearless in the pool. During her last lesson, she jumped in by herself, surfaced on her own, and wanted to do it again! Lilah loves the water and is getting stronger with every lesson. Noah is a natural swimmer and his strokes are starting to look more polished. He's fast and almost ready to challenge me to a fair race!

- An actual conversation with Aviva, regarding the potty: "Hey, Aviva. Do you want to sit on the potty and wear some pretty butterfly panties today?" "No. I really, totally, totally do not." Sigh.

- Michael and I celebrated our anniversary. We went out for a nice dinner at one of my favorite little places downtown while his mom watched the kids. It was a nice night - no kids, good food, low lighting, and a quiet, happy conversation.

- MG and I recently had a ridiculous conversation that determined our Jewish Porno names and our Scotland Yard names. I am Loxy Brown and Agatha Knickerstarch, respectively.

- Aviva is obsessed with Puff the Magic Dragon and sings it constantly. Most days, I think it's super-duper cute.

- I had a really bad cold a few weeks ago and wanted nothing more than to be warm and cozy. So, I pulled my only pair of proper, flannel pajama pants from my drawer only to find that they had ripped. The crotch seam was completely torn. I raised my eyebrows and confronted Michael, "Did you sabotage my pants?" He laughed and said, "No, but that's some mighty nice Amish lingerie you've got there."

(The flannel pajamas were a gift from my mother-in-law, by the way. Freud would have loved her.)

- Most afternoons and weekends, there is a constant stream of children in and out of my house. I love it.

- Aviva gives herself little pep talks when she is balancing or climbing. "Aviva, you not gon'to fall down. Balance, Aviva. You can do it! You can stay up!" The cuteness overpowers me every single time.

- Noah makes his own playdates now. One down, 2 to go.

- Michael and I both got raises. Given the state of the economy, this may qualify as some sort of miracle.

- Lilah and her friend, Anna, love to play dress-up. Last week, Anna came downstairs dressed like a ninja and said, "Introducing! The Artist! Formerly Known as Prince!" Before I could ask, Lilah appeared, wearing purple and sequins, and began to dance and sing a medley of Purple Rain, When Doves Cry, and Little Red Corvette. A week later, I'm still laughing. Sometimes I think that I would sell my life to reality TV if it meant having moments like that on record.

- My sister's wedding is approaching fast, so as we walked to swim lessons last week, I talked with the kids about what to expect, who will be there, and how fun it will be to dance at the reception. Noah said, "I'm not dancing. Maybe just a slow dance with you, Mom, or maybe if they play YMCA." Lilah looked at me with mischievous grin and said, "I have to tell you something, Mommy. (deep breath, long pause) When I was in preschool, I was a little frightened by the YMCA song." Then she laughed and laughed. And we laughed with her.

- My sister's bridal shower went very well. We had a good turn out, good food, and everyone seemed to have fun. Jo got a lot of stuff from her registry, plus some other lovely things. For her shower and her wedding gifts, I bought her a few of these very cool pieces.

- The kids and I are VERY excited to be part of my sister's wedding. Michael is excited to be a guest...even if it does mean having to be in some of the formal pictures. Our dresses are done, accessories purchased, and Noah's tux will be ready the day before the wedding. There will be lots of family and friends coming in from out of town, some of whom I haven't seen since my own wedding. I can't wait to see everyone, especially my fantastic cousins. My sister is a little stressed out, but is still pretty calm for someone heading down the aisle in 2 weeks.

I promise to post wedding pictures next month!

Lady

2009-03-19T07:22:00.000-07:00

So, I have yet another cold, a raging case of PMS, and am in the middle of a very hectic week.

I have tried everything to make myself feel better.

Ice cream failed miserably. Tea felt nice, but held no curative powers.

Cold meds are working, but make me loopy. I can't take them when I need to be sharp and alert.

I'm trying to rest, but I have a job and three kids.

I talked to MG, who is good, who hangs out with enough women to know how to handle such a situation. His wise words in response to my list of grievances this morning: "Cori, talking to you when you have PMS is like a very intense game of tetris when the squares are falling real fast."

Exactly.

Then it hit me.

Last night, I saw a commercial for the Time-Life collection of 70's love songs. When I thought about it this morning, I immediately knew what would soothe my congestion and hormonal dissonance.

I need someone - preferably Will Ferrell or Steven Colbert - to dress up like Kenny Rogers and sing "Lady" to me.

Sigh.

Just the thought of it makes me feel a little bit better.

Nine

2009-03-17T06:19:00.000-07:00

On March 9th at 4:17 AM, Noah turned nine!

Here are his stats:

Height: 4' 9"

Weight: 68 pounds

Favorite movies: Indiana Jones (all of them), Coraline, National Treasure, Back to the Future, Return of the Jedi, Edward Scissorhands, The Princess Bride, The Wizard of Oz, and the inevitable, unavoidable HSM trilogy.

Favorite musicians: Bob Marley, Dave Brubeck, REM, Nirvana, Babaloo, Queen, Elvis Costello, Paul McCartney, Jack Johnson, U2, Coldplay, Charlie Parker, Sheryl Crow, Beyonce, Radiohead, Beethoven

Favorite teams: Red Sox, Celtics, Patriots, Bruins. Duh.

In other Noah news...

He is fully settled into his new school and has a nice group of friends. However, the boy who became his best friend at the start of the year grew very territorial about Noah once he started widening his social circle. So, Noah doesn't hang out with him as much anymore and has opted to spend most of his time with a cooler-headed group boys.

He is doing well in school itself. The only complaints from his teacher are with regard to fidgeting and occasional tardiness.

He has reached the age where he has lots of questions about S-E-X. That's been interesting. He has this book, but also asks Michael and me about stuff, too. Last night, he asked how often people have sex. I, of course, answered his question with a question: "How often do you think?" He estimated that once every two years was plenty.

It was hard not to laugh, but I did manage to correct him and he was SHOCKED to find out that we grown-ups (if we're lucky) do this mysterious thing much more regularly than once every two years. Oh, the HORROR!

He's becoming more independent. He can shower on his own, make his own breakfast and lunch, and set up his own playdates. He walks Lilah to school every day and does not need to be told to practice piano or do his homework.

He's as kind, loving, charismatic, and creative as ever. He makes me proud, makes me smile every day.

And he's just getting so big.

Jolly Roger

2009-02-17T11:40:00.000-08:00

Over the weekend, my parents took the older two down to Newport for the Winter festival.

Lilah was feeling "piratey" down by the sea.

My mom said that she got lots of smiles and friendly comments after getting her face painted. She responded to all with her trademark shy, wise grin and a quiet, "Arrrrrr".

Even though she refuses to tell me where she buried the treasure...Lilah is the coolest 6 year old pirate ever.

Because I'm sick...

2009-02-09T14:18:00.000-08:00

...and because all of my kids have been sick over the past two weeks, I let Thordora interview me. Thank her...because I know you'd rather not hear about snot and fevers and coughing.

1. I LOVE your children's names-esplain please. :)

With all 3 of them, we wanted names that would sound great in Hebrew and English.

It took three (postpartum!) days to name Noah. I knew that his middle name would be Samuel in honor of my grandfather, but couldn't decide on a first name. I spent hours looking at his newborn face, trying to decide which name would fit him. Just before the nurse came in with my discharge papers, he wrapped his little fist around my finger, gazed up at my face, and I said, "Hi Noah."

Lilah Rachel is named after my maternal grandmother (Lena) and Michael's maternal grandmother (Ruth). Her name, if pronounced LYE-la, means night in Hebrew. However, due to the fact that we spell it with an H at the end, phonetically, in Hebrew, it's lee-LAKH, which means lilac.

Aviva Grace's name is the result of several months of indecision. We had a boy's name picked out fairly quickly, but had a really hard time agreeing on a girl's name. I liked Shira, which, in Hebrew, means song. Michael wasn't crazy about it. He suggested Talia, but I refused to name the baby after his ex-girlfriend. Once I was sure that naming the baby Shira wasn't going to happen, I suggested Aviva. I remember saying, "It means Spring. It's the perfect name for an April baby!". He thought about it for a couple of days and finally agreed. Her middle name, Grace, translates to the name Chana in Hebrew. Chana is family name - it was Michael's great-grandmother's name and is both of our mothers' Hebrew names.

2. How easy is it raising your children with your religion, especially in a world that's either outwardly secular or christian?

I have it easier than my parents did because I'm raising my kids in an area that has a large Jewish/Israeli population. We are secular Jews, not very religious at all, but we do uphold some Jewish cultural traditions in our home and observe Jewish holidays. Knowing that my children each have several peers with similar cultural identities makes me feel very much at home here. Including myself, there were only three Jewish kids in my high school class. Of those three, I was, by far, from the most observant family. I constantly felt like I was swimming upstream in order to preserve my own cultural identity. I'm glad my kids don't have to feel that way.

In terms of maintaining their Jewish identities despite living in such a Christian country, we're doing OK so far, I think. The kids love going to the different youth programs at our synagogue and celebrating the holidays with our families. I also think the fact that we live in such an urban area has helped them to feel secure with regard to their own culture. They see their diverse group of friends moving effortlessly from the secular world of public school and playground to the comforting rituals of their personal backgrounds and know that it's a normal way of life.

3. You can secretly have one musician's love child, who will be guaranteed to carry it's father's talent. Who do you pick, and why?

JUST ONE???? That's like asking me to choose one flavor of ice cream to eat for the rest of my life. Not gonna happen.

I want to have beautiful, musical babies with Sting, Sergei Rachmaninoff, Gustav Mahler, Igor Stravinsky, Dave Brubeck, Charlie Parker, John Lennon, Pete Townsend, Mahalia Jackson, Tori Amos, Carol King, Prince, Mos Def, and Dave Grohl. They all possess(ed) amazing, visionary talent. Plus, Sting is hot.

4. Which kids show would you have removed from the air forever, banished if you will. Why?

In all honesty, my kids don't watch enough TV for me to know everything that's out there. I'm pretty strict about the box. However, when Noah was little, he used to love Caillou. I hated Caillou. I would definitely banish that whiny cue-ball and his wishy-washy parents from cartoon life forever.

5. Secret, embarrassing indulgence-be it book, food or TV.

After thinking about this for a bit, I've realized that my food and book indulgences are not really all that embarrassing (unless ice cream, reuben sandwiches, cherries, cookies, fried clams, huge lobsters, and good books make you blush). So, embarrassing TV indulgences wins the toss. I watch The Soup every week. I think Unbeatable Banzuke is awesome. I love food porn - No Reservations and Man vs Food. But...my all-time favorite guilty TV pleasure is So You Think You Can Dance. My world stops for that show.

If you want me to interview you, let me know and I'll email you some questions.

5 Cents

2009-01-29T13:32:00.000-08:00

I am not really writing this.

I have died of embarrassment.

A couple of posts back, I mentioned how Aviva's mispronunciation of certain words is super-cute.

I spoke too soon.

She has started to learn the difference between dimes, pennies, quarters, and nickels. She can say all of them correctly, too. All of them, I learned today, except for nickel.

You're thinking...maybe she, instead, says nipple?

Oh no. Not even close. If that were the case, I wouldn't bat an eyelash.

As for what it is, this mortifying malapropism, let's just say that she may have a very lucrative career in gangsta rap.

Today, at the grocery store check-out, I dropped some of my change.

Thankfully, the young, black man who rang up our items seemed to find it pretty funny when Aviva loudly instructed, "Mommy, put the (horrible mispronunciation of nickel) in your pocket!!"

My response? "Thank you, V! I'll put the niCKCKCeLLLL in my wallet!"

And then I died.

Commuter Frustration

2009-01-21T01:55:00.000-08:00

"Hey babe", he said when I called from work to check in and say goodnight to the kids, "could you swing by CVS and Trader Joe's on the way home? I didn't have a chance to get the things you said we needed.".

Sigh.

That night, I wasn't leaving work until at least 9 PM and planned to walk home. But, things like diapers, milk and things for the kids' school lunches cannot wait. "OK," I passive-aggressively shrugged. "I'll be home around 10."

I made the necessary stops. By the time I started walking down my street, it was already 10:15 and I was schlepping four bags full of groceries plus my work bag.

To say that I had my hands full would be an understatement. Then...

Two of the grocery bags, one right after the other, BROKE. I was still six blocks away from my house, so I did what any other normal, tired, annoyed person would do...

I muttered curses and questioned the shoddy construction of the shopping bags and the grocery-bagging skills of the check-out boy at Trader Joe's. And tried not to cry.

Right now, you're probably thinking, "Hey Cori! You live in the city! Take a taxi!"

I thought that, too. The only problem was that I had just spent all of my cash. Michael had the debit card because he was the one who was supposed to get all of the groceries that were now in a pile on the sidewalk. So, I was stuck with no money and not enough hands to carry everything.

It was so quiet. There wasn't a soul around to ask for help.

Because optimism makes people stupid sometimes, I tried stuffing the displaced groceries into the two intact bags. I made it two more blocks before those bags broke, too.

(sob)

That's when I got mad enough to call Michael and yell at him.

"Hey you", he flirtatiously answered the phone. "Michael, get your ass off the couch, walk up the street, and carry these stupid, fucking groceries YOURSELF.", is what I think I might have said. "Uh, OK.", he replied. "All of the bags broke! I cannot carry everything. You need to get out here now.", I said more calmly, albeit trying very hard not to cry. "Aaaaaalright. I'll be there in a minute."

He ran up the street. Because he is annoyingly smart, he brought the stroller so we could load it up with the groceries.

I pouted and mumbled a "thank you" while we loaded the stroller. "I'm glad I could come to your rescue.", he said.

"It's not a rescue if you're cleaning up a mess that could have been avoided.", I said coolly.

We walked quietly for a few minutes before he said, "I'm sorry you had to do my errands."

"Bringing the stroller was a good idea", I conceded.

"Wasn't it?", he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and kissing my head.

We continued walking home, chatting about our day, joking about how I cried over spilled groceries.

I wanted to stay mad at him just a little bit longer, but I couldn't.

Cori the Blah, blah, blah-barian

2009-01-14T07:19:00.000-08:00

Well hello there.

It's been awhile. Sorry about that.

Life at Chez Shiny Happy has been tres chaotic lately with holidays, birthdays, work days, snow days, sick days, good days, bad days, and every-days.

Want an update? You're getting one!

I have been working A LOT. I would say I have been working my ass off, but that is simply not true. I seem to have acquired an ass over the holidays, which is nice because I don't normally have much of a backside. However, my thighs have also been augmented. So fuck that. Now I need to lose 5-10 pounds before my sister's wedding in order to avoid extra dress fittings. I'm hoping it'll melt off once I get back in the pool later this month.

Aviva continues to excel at being cute. She talks a lot. Her mispronunciations are hilarious. Fingers are "dingers". Clementines are "lemontimes". Helicopters are "hoptacoptars". She cannot make a "ch" sound. It comes out as an "s" sound, so it's always amusing when she wants chex for breakfast! She cannot make an "L" sound without a vowel attached, so oatmeal is "oatmealah", tunnel is "tunnelah", and so forth. She confuses tomatoes and potatoes; thumbs and elbows. She hates the cold. She loves olives. She thinks that breasts are funny. She refuses to use the potty.

Lilah is awesome. She's weird and wonderful. She has taken to sitting at the piano and making up silly songs. She wrote this last week:

"Ice skating is fun for you - if you bring peacocks and glue! - But - if you eat peacocks and glue - you know it isn't good for you and you will get the flu!"

She speaks like a teenager sometimes. Yesterday, she and I were talking about maybe inviting one of her friends to sleep over. She said, "Well, I want to invite Aya, but I also want to invite Zoe. But they don't like eachother very much. So, we would have to do it on different days because, if they were here together, it would be, like...you know...AWK-WARD!"

She has a new obsession with Star Wars. She is fascinated by "dark vader" and his powers. She is skeptical that Leia is actually a princess because she doesn't dress like one. She loves Han Solo. So do I.

Noah is great. He's doing well in school and continues to fly with regard to piano. He's got some great friends. He's started writing comic strips, which is wonderful outlet for his artistic skills and wicked sense of humor. He loves to build stuff out of anything he can get his hands on. Conversely, he loves to take things apart to see how they work. He loves swimming, playing basketball, and is a huge Celtics fan who wears his green hoodie everywhere.

He's almost 9 and going through a stage where he's very conscious about wanting to be cool, but is also trying to reconcile that with being a good person. It's hard sometimes. For all of us. I've been letting him have more responsibility over himself, a little bit more freedom and privacy. That seems to help.

Other random stuff...

New loveseat, curtains, and lamps in the living room due to a big, fat holiday paycheck and a trip to IKEA!

My friends Dave and Rachel welcomed baby E on the first night of Hanukkah!

I am going to have my post-Essure HSG next week and am very nervous. This will not only confirm that the procedure worked, but the internets also tell me that it will hurt like a bitch. Yikes.

Hey! We're getting an awesome new president next week! Noah and his class get to watch the inauguration on the big screen at our local, independent movie theater. Aren't you jealous? I know I am.

Khan-ukkah

2008-12-21T08:27:00.000-08:00

You know how I said that, in high school, I made friends that liked me for me, quirks and all? Well, those friends were pretty quirky, too.

I had one friend who was the queen of quirk, who, in comparison, made me look boringly normal. She was super-scary-smart, very direct, and very sharp. She spoke with dramatic affectations. There was nothing subtle about this girl, no gray areas. She had enough friends to get by, but I doubt that most of our classmates would still remember her name. She was passionate about books, anthropology, animals, and, eventually, my boyfriend (but that's another post entirely.).

She defended her oddities in ways that also affirmed them.

Her parents were older, radical ex-hippies. Her mom taught MG and me how to make home-made yogurt and home-made napalm in the galley kitchen of their saltbox colonial. She also introduced me to really good, really rare folk music from the 1950's and 60's.

Her Granny lived with them. She was in her 80's when I first met her, but I imagine that she was always somewhat formal, pickled, and prudish - and quite possibly a very big part of why my friend's mom felt the need to live such a subversive lifestyle.

Granny and I had the same conversation every time I went to their house, usually while I was trying to stave off a panic attack because their pet wolf (seriously!) was growling at me or while my friend subsequently put the wolf upstairs or outside. She'd ask about my parents, how my father's practice was doing, and how I was doing in school.

The only time we ever discussed anything different was during my junior year of high school when I came by the week before Christmas. As I put a gift for my friend under the tree, Granny asked me what my Christmas plans were. My friend chimed in, "Gran, Cori's Jewish. She doesn't celebrate Christmas." I added, "I'm actually going to (my boyfriend's house) for Christmas Eve. On Christmas day, my family and I usually go to Providence for Chinese food and then we go to the movies."

Gran thought for a moment.

"What is it that you people celebrate this time of year? Wait, don't tell me! I know this one."

Finally, she said...

"Chaka Khan! What are you doing for Chaka Khan?"

My friend and I, in that moment, had a very fast, very important conversation without saying a single word. My expression read, "Is she serious?!?!?!" Her's read, "Hell yes. And, by the way, welcome to my world."

"Actually, it's already over, but it was very nice." is what I managed to reply with a straight face.

"Well, I'm glad you had a happy Chaka Khan, Cori."

I thanked her, then my friend and I went upstairs to laugh, laugh, laugh.

As silly as it is, this is one of my favorite Hanukkah memories.

I bought my candles earlier this week. When I got home, I played with Aviva and taught her the "Dreidel Song".

My mouth may have been saying "...I made it out of clay, and when it's dry and ready, then dreidel I shall play...", but my in my heart, I was really singing...

"I'm every woman, it's all in me..."

Happy Chaka Khan. Hanukkah Sameach.

:)

Tangles

2008-12-18T05:50:00.000-08:00

Her hair is always full of tangles when she wakes up.

This morning, Aviva looked as though she had a dread-locked faux-hawk.

After I brushed her teeth, I started to wet her hair by wetting my hands and running them over her head.

She wailed.

I was being very gentle, but she screamed, cried, kicked, and ran downstairs anyway.

She stayed in the living room, pouting and whining, for 20 minutes.

Then she was quiet.

After a few minutes, she found me in the kitchen and, with a huge grin, exclaimed, "I'm all done crying now!"

I scooped her up, gave her a kiss, and she whispered in my ear, "I don't like tangles, Mommy."

SIX!

2008-12-16T06:17:00.000-08:00

At 6:44 PM, Lilah Rachel will officially be 6!

Lilah at 6. Lilah is 6.

She woke up this morning and said, "Are you sure this is my birthday? Because I still feel 5!"

She's finally getting the pogo stick she's been requesting for the past two years. So, if you hear any elated shrieking coming from the Boston area this evening, you'll know why!

She's kicking kindergarten's ass.

She can read, a development in which she takes enormous pride and pleasure.

She plays with most of the kids in her class, but her two best friends are boys. When I was her age, my two best friends were boys, too.

Her quirky girlishness makes itself apparent when it comes to her taste in movies and clothing. She loves dresses and wildly-patterned tights, nail-polish and lip gloss, just as much as she loves jeans and sneakers. Her favorite movies are Enchanted, The Princess Bride, Cinderella, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Wizard of Oz, and the High School Musical trilogy.

She loves music of all kinds.

She has developed what MG refers to as "the (my maiden name) goofy" - a wildly imaginative streak coupled with an extreme propensity for silliness. She also has a huge appreciation for the absurd and enough abandon to spontaneously burst into song and dance every now and then.

Never a dull moment, as you can imagine. And we love every minute of it, every minute of her.

Happy 6, Lilah.

I stole this.

2008-12-12T09:17:00.000-08:00

More specifically, I stole this from Punkin, who stole it from Jen.

I only stole it because I am a junkie - an iTunes junkie, a music junkie. And junkies steal stuff.

Twenty songs from a randomized playlist. First lines only. Here we go...

- One Saturday I took a walk to Zipperhead. I met a girl there and she almost knocked me dead!

- Squint your eyes and look closer. I'm not between you and your ambition.

- Day after day, I will walk and I will play, but the day after today, I will stop and I will start...

- Don't worry about a thing, 'cause every little thing is gonna be alright.

- When you kiss me, does the lipstick on your lip stick on my face?

- I'm all lost in the supermarket. I can no longer shop happily.

- The glove compartment isn't accurately named and everybody knows it.

- I was tuning in the shine on the light night dial, doing anything my radio advised...

- Am I more than you bargained for yet?

- The flowers you gave me are rotting and still I refuse to throw them away...

- Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts? Just a cage of rib-bones and other various parts...

- It's all the same. Only the names have changed.

- It's hard to argue when you won't stop making sense.

- God, sometimes you just don't come through. Do you need a woman to look after you?

- Hang your collar up inside. Hang your dollar on me.

- Hey! Ho! Let's go!

- I never saw you before today. Or never noticed, it's so hard to say.

- One, two, three...she's a real left-winger 'cause she's been down south and held peasants in her arms...

- Tell me one more time, as I hold your hand, that you don't love me.

- I remember you well at the Chelsea Hotel. You were talking so brave and so sweet...

Lyrics courtesy of the Dead Milkmen, Ani DiFranco, The Violent Femmes, Bob Marley, The Buzzcocks, The Clash, Death Cab for Cutie, Elvis Costello, Fall Out Boy, Regina Spektor, Ingrid Michaelson, Bon Jovi, Snow Patrol, Tori Amos, REM, The Ramones, Tuscadero, The Pixies, Joe Jackson, and Leonard Cohen.

Shiny Happiness

2008-12-04T05:09:00.000-08:00

There was a lot of shiny, happy in November! In no particular order, here are the highlights...

- Lilah has taken to speaking in the vernacular of Bikini Bottom when she makes a mistake or gets frustrated. Instead of "Oops!" or "Darn it!", she prefers to say "Barnacles!" or "Tartar sauce!" It's really funny to hear her little girl voice and sincere emotion wrap themselves around such randomness. It almost makes me grateful for Spongebob - almost.

- As we drove down to my parent's house for a visit, Noah exclaimed, "Whoa!! Guys!! Was that a DeLorean??" I stifled a giggle while Michael replied, "No, sweetie. That was a Chevy Nova." I'd wager that sitting in either car feels a little bit like time travel.

- Aviva knows all of the words to this song. She sings it to herself when she's sitting in her stroller. It's just way too cute!

- I hurt my butt. More specifically, I pulled a muscle in my butt while doing yoga, proceeded to ignore my injury, and went about my normal activities for two days. On the third day, I proclaimed, in front of my husband and children, "Wow, my butt hurts!" After they stopped laughing at me, I put the kids to bed, then found Michael feigning sleep in our bedroom. I snuggled beside him and said, "Wake up, baby." No response. "Come on, we need to clean-up downstairs. Wake up." No response. "Michael, wake up and rub my butt." That did the trick. Laughter. Kisses. "Roll over.", he said, smirking, and started to rub harder and faster than I anticipated. "Hey!", I said, "This is not a rap video!" Of course, that comment led him to make record-scratching noises while using my butt as his turntable. That boy is definitely a beastie.

- There was a squirrel in my parents' basement on Thanksgiving! They have a finished basement, so the boiler room is actually just a large closet with some ventilation grating on one wall. Michael was down there with the girls and kept hearing noises. He thought Noah was hiding in there at first, but the sounds soon became more...rodent-like. He looked over and, through the grating, there was a squirrel staring at him! He, my Dad, and my sister's fiance spent a half-hour chasing the squirrel around the basement before they finally caught it and put it outside. That was hilarious, but even funnier was my mother's reaction to the whole thing. When told about the squirrel in her house, she gasped, verified that my father was "handling it", then glanced at the clock and said, "Oh my god, I'm an hour late for my martini!"

- My sister's wedding is in April. Lilah and Aviva's flower girl dresses and my bridesmaid dress have all been ordered! They're beautiful - the girls will wear white dresses with red details and my dress is a simple, black, strapless gown with some shirring at the waist. The wedding plans are coming along nicely. I'm lucky to have a sister who most definitely not a bridezilla.

- Noah came home with an interesting question a few weeks ago. As casually as if he were asking me for a glass of water, he said, "Hey mom, can we go to celebrity sex dot com?" After I scraped my jaw off the floor and stopped silently hyperventilating, I replied, "Where did you hear about that site and why would you want to see it?" He explained that his friend's older brother said that he saw naked pictures of Vanessa Hudgens there. He also said that, because those pictures got her fired from Disney, he thought they must be very interesting and more than just a naked body. I explained that, once you get to be a certain age, naked bodies are very interesting and that failing to keep yourself covered could, indeed, get you fired or worse. We also talked about what is appropriate for someone his age to do on the computer. Then, he started his homework...and I contemplated keeping him home with me at all times forever.

- I planned Lilah's 6th birthday party. We're having it here. An activity-filled party where all I have to provide is a cake, party favors, and the birthday girl? Sold! She and her friends will have so much fun. I cannot wait!

- Aviva has learned how to shake someone's hand and introduce herself. She loves doing it. However, every now and then, she introduces herself under the psuedonym Barack Obama.

That's all for now :)

Thanks. Really.

2008-11-25T17:00:00.000-08:00

So, Thor wants to know about high school, but I want to write about Thanksgiving. Let's compromise: I'll tell you about high school and why, even though it was hideous, I am eternally thankful for it.

When I was a freshman, I made the varsity cheerleading squad.

(please stop smirking.)

At age 14, after two horribly awkward years in which my teeth were in braces and my breasts were already a C cup, I was absolutely certain that my cheerleader status was a non-stop ticket to instant popularity.

One problem. With the exception of my healthy interest in cute boys, I had NOTHING in common with the other cheerleaders. Not a single thing.

So, I invited them all over to my house for a party. We'd get pizza, rent a movie, they could sleep over if they wanted - FUN!

But, no. It wasn't. I was a just a Jewish, bookish geek who invited a bunch of cheerleaders over to her Jewish, bookish house where there would be no beer or boys.

And, for this occasion, I rented Heathers. About 20 minutes into the movie, I realized that there were some vague similarities between life and art...including the fact the one of the co-captains was, indeed, named Heather.

My intentions were good. My execution was poor.

After that, they made no effort to include me in anything and I stopped trying to be part of their clique. I quit cheerleading two weeks later; traded in my uniform for a baby-doll dress, a vat of Manic-Panic, and oxblood Doc Martens; and never spoke to any of them again.

Thank god.

That little story came up last week in a conversation with an old friend.

After he stopped laughing, we discussed my particular brand of sassy, bookish, Jewish geekdom and its role in the story. We agreed that, if I were not Jewish and already somehow different from the rest of the squad, it may have been harder for me to stop trying to be something I wasn't.

The fact that I was already different empowered me to realize that I was somewhere I didn't belong and gave me the freedom to make friends who liked me for me - quirks, Jewishness, and all.

This power also came in handy with teachers, too. During each year of high school, one of my teachers inevitably scheduled an exam on Yom Kippur. Every year I had to raise my hand and say, "You need to switch the exam date because you've scheduled it on a major holiday that I happen to observe." The one year in which I was told, in front of my classmates, that I would be forced to get a zero, I had the power to vehemently disagree. In front of my classmates.

Another conversation that pulled these stories to the surface involved geography.

"I think it's great that you're raising the kids here", said MG as we walked through the Booksmith last week. "Did you really think I'd raise them someplace like (insert name of hometown here)? Someplace that values conformity at all costs?", I replied, with a hint of acidity. "When I was growing up, I sometimes wished that my parents had stayed in Philly instead of raising me (where we grew up)." MG laughed, "Do you even LIKE Philly?" "No, not so much. But I would have fit in better, I think. I wouldn't have had to fight for the right to be me so often." He looked a bit stung and quietly said, "We did just fine. Look at all of those people who did fit in or tried to fit in. They're boring or still trying to fit in." "We", I said with a smile, "are definitely NOT those people."

We talked a little more about our hometown, our high school friends, our difficulties, our lives growing up. About how they would have differed if any of my friends had grown up elsewhere, if I had grown up elsewhere. After mulling it over in my head for a few days, I've concluded...

I wouldn't change anything because it all helped to shape who I am at this very moment. It gave me the conviction to be true to myself and the knowledge that happily being different is far more interesting than struggling to be just like everyone else. I didn't merely survive my childhood and adolescence, I came out of it with some good stories, good humor, and good friends.

For that, I am thankful.

Hi, Art!

2008-11-18T10:23:00.000-08:00

Hey, did you know that the ICA is free on Thursday nights?

MG and I took Noah a few weeks ago.

The girls were with my parents for the night (enjoying a sleepover after getting their flower girl dresses for my sister's upcoming wedding) and Michael was working late. The circumstances were ideal for a fun adventure, so off we went!

Noah was very excited to spend time alone with MG and me. He talks a lot and is very easily distracted when he's excited, so our whole walk through Fort Point Channel on our way to the ICA was full of chatter and random observations.

The more we walked, the more excited he became.

As we passed by a large design firm, Noah peered into the lobby and said, "Oh, is that the museum? Oh no. No, it's not a museum. It's probably just an IKEA!"

When we approached the actual museum entrance (which in no way resembles an IKEA), I attempted to give Noah a brief run-down of museum rules and etiquette. Nailing Jell-O to the wall would have probably been a more productive use of my time, as his response was "Yeah, yeah, OK. Mom, can we just go in now?"

The museum has an exposed elevator shaft. When you are an 8 year old boy, this is infinitely more interesting than contemporary art. It is a miracle that we made it out of the lobby in less than half an hour (which we did), but I think our mild annoyance with Noah's elevator fixation gave us bad elevator karma.

We got into the elevator and went up to the second floor where we were greeted by...a bouncer? MG and I exchanged bemused glances as we both stopped Noah from crashing a very posh, very private, very moneyed party in one of the galleries.

Back into the elevator of fascination. We pressed the 3.

And we went...down? Back to the lobby. We pushed 2 and 3.

Up to two again, and back down again.

MG and I were laughing too hard to get out and take the stairs.

Noah was beyond thrilled to watch the elevator work from the inside and barely noticed that we'd been on the damn thing for at least 1o minutes!

Finally - FINALLY! - we got to the 3rd floor, where we saw an amazing installation by Tara Donovan. Noah, after being reminded several times to be quiet and NOT to touch, finally got the hang of this looking-at-art idea.

It was amazing to watch it click in his mind, to watch him gather his energy and really look at the art. It was even more amazing to watch him form his own interpretations. Watching MG patiently help him find some of the more interesting nuances in each piece was very endearing, too. He even quietly pointed out that one of the pieces in a smaller gallery was by an artist who, unfortunately, bears the surname "Butt". Butt art. Butt painting. Butt. Butt. Butt.

Noah fully appreciated the nod to 3rd grade culture.

Does baser humor + high art = irony?

After we walked around the permanent galleries, we headed to the gift shop, which is pretty much like another gallery. I fell in love with some jewelry while MG showed Noah some cool, hand-made robot toys. We laughed at some of the home design stuff because, seriously, who needs a mirror framed in silver-plated cassette tapes? Or an end table decorated with decoupaged pictures of bonsai trees?

Unanimously, we decided: not us.

So we left.

Noah was amazed and appalled by the size of the wharf-dwelling river rats that we saw on our way to the T.

MG and I tried to have an entire conversation only using song lyrics and failed miserably. Hilariously.

Noah suavely convinced me to take him out for ice cream. I suavely convinced him that we would eat ice cream somewhere closer to our house and have Michael meet us there.

Once we reached the T, MG lifted Noah up to hug him goodbye and Noah said, "Thanks, Uncle M. This was AWESOME!"

It totally was.

Yes We Did!

2008-11-05T06:20:00.000-08:00

When I picked Noah and Lilah up from school at 2:30 yesterday afternoon, Noah was full of excitement. "Obama won!!", he said.

"Where are you getting this information?"

"In the afternoon announcements. Obama won 357 to 63. In the school vote!"

"That's a big win."

"Yeah! So that means he must be winning for real, right?"

"We won't know for awhile. Not until after you're asleep."

"Oh. OK. Well, you need to wake me up if he wins. I really want him to win."

"Tell me why."

"Because if he wins, the Martin Luther King's dream will come true. Plus, he cares a lot about families and the environment and ending the wars. That's all good stuff, Mom, right?"

"Absolutely all good stuff, Noah. Now, go play!"

Imagine his delight this morning. Imagine that wide-eyed innocence staring history in the face. Imagine his excitement upon hearing Obama's speech and knowing how far we've come.

For him, for yours, for mine - YES WE CAN.

Shiny Happy Movie

2008-10-28T07:44:00.000-07:00

LITERALLY.

At 7PM on Saturday evening at the Fenway cinema, Noah, Lilah, and I sat down to see High School Musical 3.

Very exciting!

The theater darkened. Lilah and Noah exchanged huge, happy grins.

The movie, in all of it's shiny-happy-cheesy glory, started.

Those crafty Disney people wasted no time, let me tell ya. From start to finish, there were musical numbers everywhere. Eveywhere! They were stuffed into that movie like syrupy pop-music turducken. I have to admit, though, I thought the choreography was great. Some of the dance scenes vaguely reminded me of Fame, Footloose, and Grease - you know...the original high school musicals.

But, because this is Disney, it was all so tame, so polished, so chaste. No one called their car a "pussy wagon", danced wildly in the street, upset the clergy, or knocked-up any ballerinas after dance practice.

No no no. Because nothing risque ever happens at East High. The Wildcats always win, everyone makes good decisions, and they're all in it together - 100%.

We grown-ups know better. Disney's utopian depiction of high-school-with-jazz-hands only briefly touches on the heartache, angst, insecurity, and indecision that all teens experience. There is no experimentation with sex or drugs, no real conflict. All of their fun is school-related fun. We know better. I know better. So, pardon me while I roll my eyes.*

However...

If you have the luxury of having never been to high school, then High School Musical 3 is very entertaining and lots of fun. So, brace yourself for some high-gloss high school and take the kids.

*(Please bear in mind that all of this is coming from a girl whose own high school experience was kind of like Fast Times at Ridgemont High and Heathers all rolled together (except without the abortions and the body count). So, um, yeah. Grain of salt. Ounce of weed. Whatever.)

Baby Magic

2008-10-22T08:48:00.000-07:00

This past week, two dear friends had their first babies. Both had sons. Everyone is fine - happy, healthy, overwhelmed, tired, and totally in baby love bliss.

It got me thinking about how babies show up and wave their tiny, little magic fingers and - POOF! - everything changes. Everything. I hope my friends embrace that magic and welcome the fresh perspective that parenthood brings. I hope adjusting to the seismic change in their lives proves easy. I also hope they know how incredibly blessed and lucky their baby boys are to have been born to such smart, fun, loving parents.

Nicole, Tim and Baby A; Marios, Miriam and Baby P - all of us here at Chez Shiny Happy are thrilled for you. Enjoy this magical time.

Elephant in the Room

2008-10-20T05:44:00.000-07:00

Brookline, as I've mentioned before, is a hub for liberal, free-thinking, organic types. Also, it's close proximity to at least 50 colleges and universities makes it a logical home for liberal academic types - students and professors alike.

It's pretty safe to assume that almost everyone in my town will be voting for Obama on November 4th.

So, last Thursday, when John McCain's gigantic, blue bus - the ironically-named "Straight Talk Express" - was first in line at the light in the center of town (pictured above), it made sense that nobody knew what to say or do.

I was standing on the corner, waiting to cross with about a dozen other people. The light turned yellow and the bus stopped. Of course, had the driver been feeling Mavericky, he would have gunned it...but he didn't. This left all of us on the corner standing in a shocked, awkward silence. We exchanged nervous glances, all silently hoping that no-one would get off the bus. The tension was palpable and needed to be broken.

So, someone started to chuckle.

Then we all started to chuckle. And point. And shake our heads.

Then, miraculously, the walk sign flashed and we all hustled across the street as if fleeing from killer bees...but still chuckling.

A woman around my own age walked beside me and scoffed, "John McCain in Brookline??!!?"

I laughed, "Um, yeah. I think the Maverick failed that mission!"

Then we went our separate ways, secure in the knowledge that our town is definitely bluer than that bus.

(Oh, and on a related note, go read Julie's blog and agree with her.)

Random Shiny Happiness

2008-10-15T05:17:00.000-07:00

In no particular order...

- Instead of "B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name, oh!", Aviva says, "E-A-N-G-O! Let's sit on a rainbow!"

- Lilah came up to me yesterday and said, "I have math skills". She handed me a paper full of addition problems that she did on her own - no help from Noah. Math skills, indeed! They were all correct and harder than what you'd expect from a kindergarten student. Her interest in math intimidates me because, once I got past 10th grade geometry, I considered myself to be done with math FOREVER. I hope her smarts and her "skills" can get her through until college. My help on that particular brand of homework would be a bad idea.

- Noah has a new best friend. His name is Herbie. They are inseperable, so it's a good thing he's such a sweet kid.

- We've instituted a chore checklist. Noah and Lilah have been helping out more regularly now that they can see their progress on paper. Beds get made, toys get picked up, and trash gets taken out pretty consistently as a result. If the chart looks full at the end of the week, they get an allowance - $1 per year of age. If that's what it takes to keep my house neat, then so be it!

- My favorite aunt and uncle came to visit! I hadn't seen them in four years and they hadn't yet met the girls. We had a wonderful afternoon together - lunch here, then some time outside at the park just relaxing and watching the kids play. It was so good to see them!

- MG is settled into his new apartment and job. He also just celebrated a birthday, so I took him to the Delux for drinks. When we sat down and our adorable waitress came to take our order, I said, "It's my friend's birthday and we'd love some celebratory drinks. What's the fanciest thing you have?" She said, "How about two sidecars?" "Perfect!", MG and I replied. As she walked away, I looked at him and said, "What's in a sidecar?" He laughed and said, "I was just going to ask you the same thing!"

- Sidecars are dangerously delicious.

- Yom Kippur is over. I fasted, atoned, and reflected on the past year...and it burned. For the whole day, I felt as though I would burst into flames if anyone touched me. I had a hard year and found myself wearing the worst sort of unflattering colors. Things are getting better now, but looking back was hard, especially in one fell swoop of remorseful prayer.

- On the bright side, I talked to MG about everything. To cut through the gloom, he said, "I atone. They call me Atone-Loc." To which I replied, "And, instead of Manischewitz, you drink the Funky Cold Medina."

- Aviva is obsessed with taking the T (the subway, for those of you not familiar with Boston). She is so obsessed, in fact, that, as she drifted off to sleep last night, she whispered, "The destination of this train is Government Center..."

- I do not have to work AT ALL this coming weekend! Michael's birthday is on Saturday and, on Sunday, we have plans to see Salina and her husband, E, for some Autumnal apple-picking fun. I'm excited to just relax, enjoy my friends and family, and, of course, pick enough apples to keep our doctors away ad infinitum. It should be good. I'll post apple-picking pics next week!

Formidable

2008-10-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

I had a playdate at the playground today.

My good friend, Joss, who splits her time between Thailand and Boston, is here until mid-November. Hooray, woot, yippee, wheeee!

(I feel the need to tell you that she'd live here permanently if it weren't for the f-ed up immigration policies of the Bush administration. Her hubby cannot get a visa because of a misdemeanor marijuana conviction...from 15 years ago...even though he's married to an American citizen and hasn't had any legal trouble in the past decade.)

So, anyway...

She and I were chatting and watching Aviva while her children - aged 6 and 10 - ran around with Lilah and Noah.

A little girl, around 4 or 5 years old, approached Aviva. She was not happy that Aviva was making a pile of woodchips so close to the bottom of the slide. So, Aviva got shoved. Joss and I exchanged a glance, watched, and waited for her reaction.

Did she cry?

Oh, hell no.

She put one tiny fist on one tiny hip, leaned forward, pointed her index finger at the pushy girl, looked her in the face, and said...

"You don't do that to me! You don't touch me! I am Aviva. You go away, lady!"

And away she went.

Joss and I were gobsmacked...and very impressed.

After a moment, she looked at me and said, "That was pretty amazing."

I nodded, "She's a tough cookie. Tougher than I'll ever be."

Joss nodded, concurred. "Is it bad or wonderful that I am jealous of her?"

I smiled. "I was just wondering the same thing."

Animated

2008-10-03T05:24:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, I made salmon for dinner. I was standing at the stove when Michael walked in the door, just home from work. Did he say hello? No. Did he come to me and give me a kiss? No. What he said, in his best Mr. Krabs voice, was...

"Arrrrr, Mrs. Krabs! I could smell yer Krabbie patties from outside!"

I smirked and mused, "I think that's the dirtiest thing you've ever said to me."

Then he kissed me, softly said...well...something even dirtier, and punctuated it with a suggestive "Arrrr!".

Who knew that Spongebob was in cahoots with Dr. Ruth?

Catch and release

2008-10-03T04:59:00.000-07:00

She walked into the center and I knew. I saw the look on her face, gazed at the tiny, pink baby she carried and I knew.

"How are you?" I asked, gently. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm a little overwhelmed", she managed to squeak, before weeping quietly.

I held her until she stopped crying.

I bit back my own tears.

And I remembered.

5769

2008-09-29T05:06:00.000-07:00

L'shanah tovah tikatevu! May the coming year bring sweetness, health, and happiness to all of you.

Square Peg

2008-09-26T07:53:00.000-07:00

I miss my old neighborhood.

In the first weeks after we initially moved to Brookline, when Noah was 4 and Lilah was 1 and Aviva wasn't even an idea, I quickly made a whole group of wonderful friends. We all met at the playground or through the preschool and, for the most part, saw eye to eye on everything from politics to parenting style to secret vices. We grew close, had more babies, and relied on each other readily. If it takes a village, we were the urban version of it.

This year, there were some big changes. I moved two miles down the road, which is still close enough to visit regularly...but, here in my urban bubble, certainly not close enough to be a part of one another's daily routine. Even more dramatic was another friend's very sudden move to Connecticut. Her husband got a wonderful job opportunity there and, in the span of 3 weeks, their condo was sold and their boxes were packed.

My heart broke when I had to say goodbye to her. She and I first hit it off almost five years ago, sitting by the sandbox, watching our daughters play. We have been dear to each other ever since. The thought of not seeing her at least once a week just hurts. I already miss her very much.

I'm sure that my sadness over the shift in my circle of friends is part of the reason why I'm having such a hard time finding some new friends in my new neighborhood. But...I am also sure that the women, the mothers in this neighborhood are VERY different and that plays a part in it, too.

For the most part, the women in my old neighborhood, including myself, are of the slightly earthy-crunchy "let kids be kids" variety. We nurse and wear the babies, let the older kids play, we set reasonable limits, we don't hover, and, at the playground, we don't usually join in their play unless we're invited.

The women at the playground in this neighborhood? HOVER. They don't ever sit down. They don't stop to chat with other adults. From what I can see, it seems like they think that they have to be constantly present in order to be a good parent. And then they look at me like I'm a bad mother because my two year old is unaccompanied on the big tube slide.

Sigh.

I am having slightly better luck at the school, though. I met a really nice woman whose son is in Lilah's class. We had a lovely chat earlier this week at pick-up time. She has a baby daughter whose name is also Lilah and her son's name is what my Lilah's name would have been if she'd been a boy. Clearly, she is ridiculously cool and has fabulous taste! I've also met some of the 3rd grade parents and, for the most part, they also seem like good people.

I know it will all work out eventually, but right now, I feel pretty lonely here. What's worse is that I prepared myself for the possibility of the exact opposite situation. I thought that I'd fit right in and that the kids would need some time to find friends and feel comfortable. After a few weeks at school, they're doing wonderfully and have each made some great friends...and I'm the one who still feels like the "new kid". I'm glad it turned out in the kids' favor, but...irony can be such a bitch sometimes.

Random Act of Cuteness

2008-09-22T07:52:00.000-07:00

It's chilly today. Fall is here.

Because the air was so brisk this morning, Aviva started talking about Winter. Her stream of consciousness was so fun to listen to that I feel the need to share it...

"It cold out there, Mom. We go ice skating, Mom? It's so slipperlee! So slipperlee on the ice. Maybe we go sled? In the snow? It go so FAST! Ready... set... go- whee! So fast! I like the sled, Mom. I no like mittens. Mittens is...is...on my fingahs, Mom? I can't like 'em. They...they too big. Too big on Aviva's hands. I can't like mittens. My...my hands maybe is cold outside. We go ice skating? So cold outside! So slipperlee. You help Aviva put on Aviva's helmet? On Aviva head! It's a PINK helmet! You...you...you have a pink potty at your work, Mom. I like it pink. My pants is pink today. Pink, pink, pink...Pinkalicious. We make cupcakes, Mom? Cupcakes so yummy...mmmm, I like 'em. I like chocolate. We...we make some, Mom?..."

No cupcakes today. I don't have the ingredients. Besides, any more sweetness and I'll fall into a sugar coma!

Closed

2008-09-19T08:17:00.000-07:00

I did it, it's over and, 48 hours later, I'm fine. Sort of.

I was nervous when I got to Dr. Lee's office, but his nurses were really kind, reassuring, and answered all of my nit-picky questions...

"How long until I can work out?...What about abdominal exercises?...Can I lift my toddler?...How long should I wait before having sex again?...How long will I bleed?..."

(The answers: A week. You should wait a week. After about a week. At least a week. Usually no longer than a week.)

So, I got checked in, took off my pants, put on a very fashionable paper gown, and was led to a small operating room, where Dr. Lee was waiting for me.

Immediately, I was at ease. He is THAT GOOD. We made small talk and then he was started talking to one of his nurses about a medical teaching conference that he attended. I chimed in, "I bet you're a great teacher, Dr. Lee.". He replied, "Actually, I've won a few awards for it. So I must be! However, until I was in my thirties, I thought that when I didn't understand something in my classes, I was not smart enough. After I started teaching, I realized that it was my teachers who were probably not smart enough!!".

I LOVE HIM.

Then he gave me an IV, which I didn't love because I hate needles.

(I can birth an 8 pound, 7 ounce baby without drugs, but have a mild panic attack whenever I'm faced with getting an IV. Go figure.)

Into the IV went Motrin, which burned my veins like holy water.

Then Dr. Lee fetched the Versed. "That's good stuff.", I said. He asked if I'd had it before, if I know how it affects me. I told him no, that I knew about it because my Dad uses it sometimes when he performs surgeries. So we chatted for a minute and came to realize that his son and my Dad have similar specialties. I asked Dr. Lee why his son didn't opt for gynecology and join his practice. He laughed and said, "I asked my son the same question and he told me that gynecology would always be his second love!"

I highly recommend laughing while someone injects an amnestic drug into your veins because that's all you'll remember when you start to come out of it.

As I started to drift off, the nurse helped my legs into the stirrups and Dr. Lee injected a local anesthetic into my cervix. Once that was done, he started the procedure.

I was pretty out of it by this point, but I can tell you that I fight Versed like Mohammed Ali fought George Foreman. Rope-a-dope, indeed. I remember feeling pain at different points during the procedure, especially when he inserted the Essure devices into my tubes, and saying "Ouch!". Every time I did, the nurse increased the drip.

The whole thing was over in less than an hour. Afterward, they let me hang out on the table until I felt ready to sit up. Then they helped me to a comfy chair and let me sit there until I felt ready to go home.

My procedure began at 10 and I was home and resting in my own bed, heating pad over my abdomen by noon. Not bad!

I slept for most of the afternoon. I fell asleep with the Travel Channel on, so when I drifted off, Samantha Brown was in Bavaria, I woke briefly to find Anthony Bourdain being a bad-ass in China, then woke again to find Noah next to me, watching a program about all-you-can-eat buffets. I stayed up for awhile at that point...because the food at the Bellagio looked THAT good and I wanted to see the kids, too. It was already almost 7PM, so I got to hear about their day and kiss them good night. Once they were asleep, I ate a very light meal - some bread from here, some soup from there - and crawled back into bed.

I awoke yesterday morning to blinding sunlight coming through an open shade. I think my attempts to nicely ask Michael to close it came out something like - "If you don't close that shade, you'll be eating my foot for breakfast.".

I was groggy for the first half of the day, so I took a nap and perked up toward the late afternoon. I talked to my Mom and told her that I felt "a little sore, a little stoned" - which, ironically, would have been a completely honest answer to "How are you?" on any given Sunday during my college years.

The less groggy I felt, the more I realized just how sore I felt. I sucked it up, took some Motrin, and made a brief appearance at the school Open House, which was actually pretty informative. But - I was totally exhausted after that. Back to bed for me.

I had a hard time waking up this morning, but Michael had to go back to work, so I had to do it. I am definitely fully alert and not at all stoned today...but, MAN, am I sore.

I think I'll feel better in about a week.

A Run-Down of Recent Events and Updates

2008-09-16T07:31:00.000-07:00

- It appears that the kids are adjusting quite easily to their new school. Hallelujah! I am thrilled and relieved. Very relieved. When Michael dropped Lilah off yesterday, four of her classmates asked her to sit by them at circle time - so I have no more concerns about how she and her quirky personality will fit in. Noah has become friendly with a nice group of boys in his class. He went to Summer camp with some of them and now knows all of their friends. They have been very welcoming towards him and I know he appreciates it. He's also befriended a sweet little girl who, in addition to being in his classroom at school, is also in his Hebrew school class. She's cute. Red hair!

- I am still feeling a bit like a "new kid" at their new school. It's much larger than their old school, so it's easier for me to maintain my anonymity and harder to decipher to whom, exactly, it is that I should be introducing myself. But the little girl that Noah likes? Her mom is very nice, so maybe she can introduce me to some other 3rd grade parents. The school is having an Open House on Thursday night, so I'm hoping to shake some hands and maybe join a committee or two. That should help, I hope.

- My alma mater has a gorgeous athletics facility and they offer a reduced rate on swim lessons for alumni, so I have 3 little Sharks now! Noah and Lilah were so excited to get back in the pool, as they hadn't been swimming since Summer camp ended. Their instructor had great things to say about them and thinks that, if they keep practicing, they will quickly develop the skills to join a team (if they want to). And as for Aviva, she is a fearless little fish. It won't be long until she can really swim, too.

- Piano lessons resumed last week and, already, the boy is flying. With his teacher's help, he figured most of this piece out in about 10 minutes. Even though I am so proud and amazed, his abilities sometimes overwhelm me. I need to talk to his teacher about doing two lessons a week because I feel like he's become so advanced that I cannot help him at home anymore.

- Hebrew school began last week. Noah is not thrilled. The 3rd grade curriculum is not only about understanding our religion and traditions, but also focuses heavily on being able to read and write in Hebrew. Michael is fluent, so he's able to help with the homework assignments...but it doesn't deter Noah from complaining incessantly about it. Lilah, on the other hand, loves Hebrew school because she gets to see one of her best friends, read stories, and do arts and crafts. Such is the difference between 8 and 5!

- Over the past two weeks, I have been trying and tweaking new recipes. We fell into a HUGE food rut over the Summer - basically living on salads, sandwiches, and anything that I could grill in less than 10 minutes. Now that the weather is cooling off and I'm coming to the realization that I'll actually have to COOK in my kitchen (gasp!!!), I've been playing around with some ideas for more substantial meals. Recent successes include veggie lo mein, baked honey-nut chicken, and an Israeli-spiced chick pea saute. Email me if you want recipes!

- I really need to start making grocery lists and sticking to them. Buying food for the kids' lunchboxes often occurs to me just before we get in line at Trader Joe's, then I have to go through the store again and end up just grabbing random yogurts, snacks, sandwich-makings, and juices. On a related note, Aviva calls fruit leather "fruit feathers". When she sees them, she squeals, "I need it! Strawberry fruit FEATHERS!" And people laugh.

- Speaking of Aviva, after a rough Summer, she is finally sleeping through the night in her own bed again. FINALLY. She's doing fine while her siblings are at school, too, and loves the undivided attention. I know she misses them, though, because when we go to pick them up and she sees the school she cries, "There's Noah Lilah's office! I go see them!!".

- I'm going in for my tuba l late tomorrow morning. I'm still feeling confident about my decision, but I'm a little nervous, especially about the possibility of being sedated. Deep relaxation doesn't scare me, but I hate the possibility of not being completely in control of my own body (I bet you can guess who will be getting my vote...). If I feel up to it, I'll post an update tomorrow night.

School Daze

2008-09-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

In June, when, in the span of three weeks, Aviva broke her foot and the kids got out of school and we moved, I remember thinking to myself that September was just around the corner. I remember thinking that, once school started again, I'd feel settled and life wouldn't be as busy or stressful.

Yeah, who knew? I am just that delusional.

School started last week. Am I settled? Maybe. Am I less stressed? No bloody way.

Noah started 3rd grade and, because we moved, he switched to a different school here in Brookline. There are familiar faces in his class - friends from Summer camp, old preschool classmates - and that has been helpful for him, I think. Nonetheless, his first day was rough. He was being so brave and nonchalant when we dropped him off, but I could sense that he was sad and nervous. "Just be yourself and try to have fun", I whispered to him as I hugged him goodbye and fought back my own tears - tears of guilt, tears because when he hurts, I hurt.

Compounding this guilt was the fact that I would not be there to pick him up. Stupid work.

So, Michael came home early and got him. And he was adamant about going to visit his old school the very second he was dismissed. That didn't happen, but he was allowed to call one of his best friends from his old school. They chatted for awhile and made plans to play this week. That definitely made him feel better. I think that staying connected to his old friends will make it easier for him to allow himself the opportunity to make some new ones.

As this week progresses, he is settling in. He actually seemed excited to get to school today, so, hopefully, this is a good sign that I'm actually not a horrible mother for moving us to a new house and making him switch schools.

Lilah started kindergarten the day after Noah started school. As I tucked her into bed on the eve of her first day, I asked her how she was feeling about it all - kindergarten, new school, new friends, the whole shebang. She said, formally, "To be honest with you, I'm a little apprehensive."

Apprehensive. And apparently ready for 5th grade.

Apprehensive or not, she was raring to go the next morning! She ran to her classroom, found her friend, and unceremoniously kissed us goodbye as we stood there completely gobsmacked and awed by her confidence. Go, Lilah, go! She loves it so far. Lilah can find the fun and see the good in everything, so I know she'll have an amazing year. Her teacher agrees with me, so I'm confident she's in good hands, the hands of someone who will appreciate her for who she is.

Big sigh of relief!

Their extra-curriculars all begin this week, too, so I'll be schlepping all over Brookline to assure their attendance at piano lessons, swimming, and Hebrew school. Lather, rinse, repeat until June.

Less stress? Yeah, right.

But they'll have some structure, which is a concept that went to hell over the Summer. They need that, I suppose. They'll be learning and making new friends, which are good things at any age.

So hooray for going back to school...just nine more months until Summer vacation!

Shiny Happy Things About Aviva

2008-08-27T08:08:00.001-07:00

Aviva. My last few posts about Aviva have been about bad behavior and sleep issues and existential toddler angst. This is NOT all that she's about. She's normally a joy, cuter than cute, and so much fun. So, here are some positives to outweigh the negatives, some good p.r., some shiny happy Aviva goodness...

- She's eager to help. She loves to put laundry in the washer, put her dishes in the sink, and put the groceries away. All of her efforts are punctuated by her excited exclamation, "I help you, Mama!! I do it, too!"

- She's a ham. A total ham. She shares her spotlight with two equally cute and precocious siblings, so she uses silliness to get attention. Everything from making up funny accents to taking off all of her clothes and shouting "TAH-DAH!" is fair game. And hilarious.

- She is very verbal. And, because she's two, she says everything that pops into her head. Yesterday, she came up to me and announced, "Mommy, I have a poop. A big, giant one!". She also likes to narrate her own actions when she thinks that no-one is listening. It's really endearing and adorable...that little voice just a rambling train of thought.

- She's independent and ambitious. She loves to do her own thing and to challenge herself just as much as she loves to emulate Noah and Lilah. "I can do it!" and "Leave me alone!" are two of her favorite phrases right now.

- She's caring and nurturing. For the past couple of weeks, Michael's back has been messed-up and very sore. Last night, as he was reading to her before bed, Michael laid down on her floor in order to be more comfortable. So sweet and concerned, she said, "Daddy, why you lay down? Something hurt? What hurt? You OK, Daddy? Lay UP, Daddy, lay UP!"

- She's outgoing. And, even more importantly, she knows her audience. She recently talked her way into playing with a group of three year old girls by complimenting one of them on her Backyardigans sneakers. "Oooh, I like your shoes. I see Pablo and Tyrone! See my shoes? My shoes is pink." Just like that, she was one of the gang.

- She's affectionate and loves to snuggle, especially with Michael and me. So nice! She also loves sneaking up on Noah and Lilah, giving them hugs and kisses disguised as play.

- She has a big heart and loves freely. Her love encompasses everything from food to toys to animals, but she reserves the best for us. When she says, "I need you, Mama!" and climbs into my lap or jumps into my arms, snuggles up, and gives me tons of delicious baby kisses, it makes every tantrum or sleepless night worth it. I tell her that I love her and she replies, "I love you, too, Mommy". Every time.

Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back

2008-08-25T07:33:00.000-07:00

One of my best friends got a teaching job at MassArt and will be moving back to Boston very, very soon!! This is EXCELLENT news. He's been rather like some sort of scrappy vagabond for the past 5 years or so, living in locations like Stockholm, London, the Pacific Northwest, and NYC, with occasional stops in Boston to visit family and friends.

He and I have been friends for 16 years. We act like siblings or an old married couple...completing the other's thoughts, driving each other crazy, and calling bullshit as needed.

When I was 5 or so months pregnant with Aviva, he and I were strolling down Newbury Street and chatting, when a homeless man said to him, "I'd be smiling, too, to be having a baby with such a fine-looking wife!" He replied, "She's not my wife." The homeless man grinned and said with a wink, "That's OK, too, man. That's OK, too."

We walked along, laughing, and he wondered aloud about why people always think that we're married. I said, "Because people can sense when other people are comfortable around each other." We nodded in agreement. It is so true.

Because he and I normally tend toward socially acceptable strangeness, our friendship is based on a strong foundation of silliness and absurdity. We have the most comically surreal conversations - inventing ridiculous things, hypothesizing various situational calamities, stating fact that clearly is NOT - and we enjoy every minute of it. The great thing is that we weave in and out of it - spending time on the real life stuff, segueing into the silly and absurd, then back to real life again.

For your enjoyment, recent conversations include the following wackiness:

- A discussion about one of his fiercest professional rivals, an Irish-Jewish hybrid who, unfortunately, personifies a lot of cultural stereotypes, led to the hypothetical invention of Kosher Irish Stout: Moishe McCarty's Mazel Brew...Jewish AND Irish: a combination that DEFINITELY deserves a drink!

- Upon discussing his difficulty in finding supplemental sources of income, I suggested that he could be my full-time bitch. He then had the brilliant idea that he could be my bitch AND my pimp simultaneously if I bestowed on myself the professional title METAPIMP: someone who pimps pimps. (not that he's a pimp. he's not...that i know of) The imagined job description: press the capes, feather the fedoras, trick-out the cars, and count the money. I would get 3/4 of whatever they make...and, if it's not enough, they get the slap. And my slap is extra bitchy!

(Seriously, I think I may have missed my calling.)

- A week or so ago, I told him that I would be getting my tubes tied. Straight away, he replied, "Tied to what?"

- We talked awhile late last week, just bitching and moaning about stupid stuff. We got around to talking about his ex-girlfriend, their tentative attempts to reconnect, and her new baby...whose name is...well...less than fortunate. Whose name sounds like the kind of name, in my estimation, that the star of a porno mime show should have. And so started the hypothetical plotting of a new fetishistic website... whose url should probably be marceau-horny.com.

Grade A hilarity. For sure.

I am thrilled that we'll be able to have more time together for this sort of silliness because it's even funnier in person.

It'll be nice to share quiet conversation and tea at my kitchen table, too.

Mostly, though, it'll be a wonderful change to have an old friend, a best friend come back home.

Professor MG, this is for you. With love.

Deadlier than the male

2008-08-20T15:41:00.000-07:00

This an actual conversation that Noah and Aviva had this afternoon:

N: (plays with toy, minding his own business)

A: Noah, give me that toy.

N: No, I'm using it.

A: (smacks him, then crosses her arms and pouts) Give me THAT TOY!

N: No! Go away, Aviva.

A: You're MEAN!

N: (laughs) You're fresh!

A: (looking into Noah's face and laying her hand on his arm, then does a spot-on imitation of yours truly) Don't PUSH me, Noah.

N: (gives her the toy and picks up a book while sighing in frustration)

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. At least I know she's been paying attention.

Permanent

2008-08-19T07:32:00.000-07:00

It's official.

I'm closing the factory and giving new irony to the phrase "laid-off factory workers" by having the Essure procedure.

My own OBGYN - who has been my doctor for 7 years, who I love, who knows me, who delivered my daughters - doesn't do it. Very disappointing! We had been emailing back and forth about it and she said, "As much as I would love to do this for you, I'm not trained in the procedure. My colleague, Dr. Lee, is the go-to guy for this."

So, I gave Dr. Lee a call and set up a consultation. We met last Friday.

After we introduced ourselves and I sat down in his office, he said, in a soft-spoken voice with a light Mandarin accent,

"So, you're here because your husband is too chicken to get a vasectomy, eh?"

After that, he could have offered to sell me a bridge and I would have bought it. Best ice breaker EVER!

He is so NOT what I expected him to be. Because the procedure itself is relatively new, I expected a younger, cockier, more calculated type of doctor. What I met was a gentle, hilarious, white-haired, 60-something professor emeritus at Harvard Med who was happy to take the time to go over every aspect of the procedure and answer all of my questions. And he did.

Depending on mother nature, the tentative plan is to have it done early next month.

I have to say, I feel really good about it.

Michael and I had originally wanted 4 children. However, after Aviva's birth left me with a broken tail bone and frankenvulva and left Aviva with a temporarily bruised and misshapen head, I was tentative to commit to baby #4. I was lucky to have made it out of that delivery room with a live, healthy baby and I just wanted to enjoy her.

Then came this past year...suffice it to say, there was a series of unfortunate events that made me even less committed to having another baby. I also had an unexpected pregnancy and subsequent early miscarriage that left me feeling only a pinch of sadness diluted by buckets and buckets of relief.

And so the decision was made - very easily and happily - to find some form of permanent birth control.

As the time to actually act upon this decision draws near, I've been making light of it with inappropriate jokes told at the expense of my lady parts and the fine Marines, Navy men, and pirates who are so good at tying knots and stealing booty.

It helps me deal with the reality of it - the fact that this is so incredibly unnatural, but it feels so incredibly necessary. Like a washing machine, computer, car, or a microwave.

It can be argued that those things improve the quality of our lives, despite their lack of organic appeal. In this case, that line of reasoning is good enough for me.

And I can live with that. I am certain. Permanently.

Blog Bling

2008-08-14T06:37:00.001-07:00

Look at what Fancy Pantsy gave me!!!! Thank you, Fancy!

So, now I'm supposed to spread the shiny, happy goodness to other bloggers that I adore. Jen, Karrie, Thordora, Johnny, Chelle, and Venessa - this bling's for you and it comes with lots of hugs and kisses...but no gold teeth.

The rules are as follows: Post the bling onto your blog and, because I gave it to you, link back to me. If you'd like to share, pass it onto as many as 7 other bloggers. They'll love you for it.

And then her pants burst into flames...

2008-08-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

After several boring, abysmal, gray, rainy days, the sun came out this afternoon. When I was sure it wasn't a figment of my imagination, I told the kids to put on their shoes and fill their water bottles because we were GOING OUTSIDE!!!!!

We headed to a park in our new neighborhood, one with lots of great climbing structures and a rose garden. It was teeming with lots of other stir-crazy kids and parents, all eager to move, socialize, breathe some fresh air, and, for the love of g-d, get out of the fucking house.

I chatted with other moms about "school cannot start soon enough" and "how about that Michael Phelps?!" and what the world would be like if everyone adopted Manny Ramirez's attitude.

(Could you imagine? Just Cori being Cori!)

Aviva ran amok. Noah rode his scooter around the park's perimeter and built a small kingdom in the sandbox.

Lilah quickly befriended another five year old girl. They chattered and prated on and on as they ran, swung, and climbed. I heard them talk about TV and movies, older siblings and friends. They were clearly impressed with each other and it was so funny to watch them try not to be clumsy or goofy. Clumsiness and goofiness are part of being five, part of being human...but not part of being cool, as we all know.

So, when Lilah fell from the monkey bars, landing on her knees instead of her feet, and her new friend asked if she was OK, it only made sense that she should reply with the following:

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I only landed like that because I was pretending to be a rock star."

I am not kidding. That quote is verbatim.

Incidentally, this will be my new excuse for any bad or unladylike behavior I may exhibit forthwith.

The saga continues...

2008-08-11T07:22:00.000-07:00

Aviva has had a tough Summer. She broke her foot and we moved, rather suddenly, to a new house. Upon having to deal with so much discomfort and transition in such a short period of time, she has developed some angst. And she's taking it out on us in the form of sleep deprivation.

For the past few weeks, she's staged full-out BATTLES in the middle of the night. Screaming. Wailing. "Mommy Daddy I need to see you!!!!!!!! Aaaaaaaaaah!!"

I'm lucky in that my chosen profession allows me to have access to all sorts of child development experts. So, I sat down with a colleague, a toddler teacher and positive discipline expert (and all around great person), during a small break at work last week and gave her the lowdown on Aviva's sleep issues.

"You know", I said, "this would be so much easier if she was 2 months old and not 2 years old. I would just pick her up and snuggle with her all night and not feel even the smallest pinch of guilt about it. But I know that she can sleep all night in her own bed. She did it regularly before we moved."

"I don't envy you", she said with a knowing grin, before giving me specific instructions on what to do.

So, I went home armed with information. And steeled myself.

Michael camped out on her floor. When she screamed, he comforted her but would NOT pick her up. He'd say, "Hey Aviva, I'm right here, baby. Go back to sleep."

That's when she did it. She threw herself over the side of her crib - head first.

With determination and instinct, Michael went deep and caught her. Just like Randy Moss!!

But there were no cheerleaders to praise him, no touchdown dance, not even a pat on the bottom from his teammate - just a frustrated, screaming toddler in his arms. And there she stayed for the rest of the night.

Yesterday, we converted her crib into a day bed, in the hopes of avoiding another determined dive to the floor. Thankfully, it went over well and she LOVES being able to climb in and out by herself.

In the wee hours of last night, there was another battle royale, but it was smaller in scale and definitely lower in decibel than the melodrama to which we've grown accustomed. She eventually went back to sleep in her own bed and stayed there until 6:30 this morning.

Baby steps for the baby girl.

FREE TODDLER FOR SALE

2008-08-08T08:00:00.000-07:00

Free to a good home, this toddler will add character to your family's busy lifestyle.

Information and requirements:

Her demands must be met in a timely manner (read: five minutes ago!). If you fail to meet these demands, which are often whimsical and impulsive, she will scream and possibly hit or throw things at you. Everyday presents a new challenge and you must think of interesting and exciting ways to address said challenges. So, don't take this toddler if you are not creative.

You should also not take this toddler if you value your sleep and would like to maintain a decent sex life. She wakes up in the middle of the night, often at very inopportune times. These middle of the night wakings require your full attention, no matter what you may or may not be doing or wearing.

This toddler requires a lot of food and water. All meals must include black olives and be followed by ice cream. She is not toilet trained and hates getting her diaper changed.

This toddler is fearless, noisy, accident prone, and often climbs furniture. All surfaces in your home must be padded.

What??? No takers???

Oh well. I guess I'll just have to keep her. It's a good thing she's so cute!

On a somewhat related note, I am having this done. I'll tell you more about it after my consult next week.

Bully

2008-08-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

OK, so I haven't written about this because I really needed some distance from the issue first. Now that I've had that, I can tell you, without too much heightened emotion, what the hell happened to my kids this year.

To say that we got off on the wrong foot with the family in question would be a huge understatement. The whole issue began 5 years ago when we first moved to Brookline. They were our neighbors and lived across the courtyard in the same apartment complex. One warm September afternoon shortly after we moved, we were playing at the playground and this family happened to be there. Lilah, who wasn't even 2 years old at the time, was busy in the sandbox and accidentally knocked over their son's sand castle. The boy, who is/was Noah's age, began screaming at Lilah. Lilah started to cry. Then the boy's father began screaming at Lilah for crying. I scooped her up and began to walk away, with the boy's father screaming and following me the whole time. I turned to him, looked him in the eyes, and said, slowly and clearly, "It was an accident. She is a baby. Perhaps you should stop shouting and think about the example you're setting for your son. It appears that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

They left the park after that, but then his wife interrogated me in the laundry room, asking why I had been so rude to her husband. I laughed in her face and suggested that she tell her husband to stop screaming at other people's babies.

We left each other alone, for the most part, after that. We moved out of the apartment complex and they stayed.

Then we got Noah's second grade class list towards the end of last Summer. Their son was on it. I took a deep breath and did something I almost never do. I prayed. I had heard from other parents that this boy had developed some conduct/behavioral issues and had a tendency to be very disruptive. I had also heard that he'd been bullying some other children in his class. I knew that, given his parents' animosity towards our family, he'd target Noah. I knew it.

And I was right.

By the end of October, Noah - my outgoing, handsome, kind Noah - was being bullied everyday. Punched. Pushed. Yanked off of a swing in mid-air. If this boy saw an opportunity, he took it every single time. It was scary. Noah, despite having a good group of friends and lots of fun activities to look forward to, didn't want to go to school.

We talked to him everyday about what to do - ignore the teasing, but if he hits you, you must tell an adult. And that's exactly what Noah did everyday. He never hit back. He would occasionally reciprocate the boy's taunts, but never instigated an incident. He didn't pay him any direct attention and direct attention is exactly what this bully was after.

With the help of Noah's incredibly patient and understanding teacher, the bullying died down after Winter break. Noah was happier. Things were actually pretty good until April.

Then, after April break, the boy started picking on the girls and following Noah. Not teasing, not hurting - FOLLOWING. This was not just scary, it was disturbing. He was being opportunistic with the girls, just as he had been with Noah. A shove here, a bad word there. But following Noah around during recess and after school was just the last straw. It scared me to the core because that's the kind of behavior that escalates into scarier, more manipulative, more violent stuff. Stuff for which he'd target my children if it ever got to that point. I had to make sure it NEVER got to that point. So, we made an appointment with the principal.

Big mistake.

The principal refused to see the true nature of the situation, the scariness, the potential for more serious transgressions. In his words, he refuses to "demonize any child". I told him that, "with all due respect, this child is doing a good job of that on his own." He suggested that we meet with the bully's parents. I told him that, having had several previous meetings with them, that tactic hadn't worked and only served to make them extremely defensive and angry. So, he copped out. He suggested that the boys be in different classrooms next year and that we split time on the playground. I said, "No. Not gonna happen. The playground is public space. This is a public school. My children will play outside when it is convenient for us." Then I suggested instituting some actual consequences for bullying and perhaps requiring the boy to have a part-time classroom aide. And we were back to the "demonizing" again. At that point, it was painfully clear to me that my son's school principal cared more about labeling and political-correctness than the safety and well-being of a student. That really stung. Still stings. And I still want to scream and cry when I think about that meeting.

It was around this time that we were looking at other houses and thinking about moving, as our place had become a money pit with noisy upstairs neighbors. We were holding out for something in the same school district, but after that awful year and that awful meeting, we started looking in other neighborhoods around Brookline. Looking for a fresh start, which we finally found in the form of a sweet little carriage house in the heart of town. Noah was upset about switching schools at first, but quickly cheered up. We live less than a mile from our old place, so it's still easy to visit all of our friends. He loves the new house with it's basketball hoop and pretty porch. He loves our neighborhood. He's excited to make new friends, excited for third grade, and thrilled that, once school starts, he won't have to deal with that particular child, that bully anymore. And so am I.

In which I stick my fingers in my ears and shout "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!!"

2008-07-25T08:22:00.000-07:00

Dear TV networks and other concerned parties,

I appreciate your tenacious reporting with regard to all New England sports teams. The footage of Patriots training camp on the local news made me excited for football season and happy to see some of my favorite players.

But, then you had to ruin it by reminding me of their "crushing loss in the Superbowl". The season has not even started yet. In fact, they hadn't even been at training camp for a full 24 hours.

So, please, if you would all kindly shut the fuck up, that would be great. I saw the game, I remember what happened. We all remember what happened. You don't have to remind us every time the Patriots appear on the screen. If you choose to do so, I will be forced to stick my fingers in my ears and shout "LA-LA-LA-LA-LA!!!". And nobody wants that, especially me.

It's a new team, a new season. Let's move past the old stuff.

Thank you.

SHM

Mousercise

2008-07-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

As the mother of two school-aged children, High School Musical has infiltrated my life and my Tivo. It was inevitable. Last Summer, Noah heard his friends talking about it and wanted to see it. So I let him. He loves it, as does Lilah. They watch it fairly regularly. No big deal.

So, the first thought in my head after seeing this picture was:

I bet Sharpay is really freaking jealous.

Aviva happened to glance at the computer screen while I checked my AOL and saw this picture. Her first thought, which she so graciously vocalized, was:

"She ride horsey, Mama!"

Giddyup.

Also, there is a scene in High School Musical 2 (electric boogaloo??) that always makes me suspect that Mickey Mouse is really just a dirty rat. Very dirty. Troy and Gabriella, played by the two teenyboppers dry-humping in the posted picture, are on the golf course - alone - when the sprinklers go off. He shouts,

"You are gonna get so wet!!!"

Yep. Looks like that just may happen :)

Temper, temper

2008-07-21T08:07:00.000-07:00

"NOOOOOOO! AAAAAAARGH!!! MINE!!!"

Whack.

Thud.

Footsteps.

"Moooooooo-ooom! Aviva grabbed my toy and hit me. Again!"

I close my eyes, count to ten, and slowly chant to myself...

it's just a phase, it's just a phase, it's just a phase.

Overheard

2008-07-17T07:36:00.000-07:00

I often catch snippets of my children's conversations in the midst of hectic days. Running errands or doing chores around the house, there is constant chatter. Admittedly, I tune out some of it, as my mind often wanders to the mundane and silly aspects of adult life.

Sometimes, my synapses crackle too loudly and I lose focus, don't hear anyone or anything. My thoughts take me elsewhere for awhile - a minute, an hour, whatever time allows. Inevitably and eventually, I am grabbed and pulled from the depths of my imagination by someone yelling in frustration, "MOM!!!".

Sigh.

But when I do listen, I catch amazing and amusing things.

Some recent gems:

-"Everyone is annoying", says Noah, "even me. Even you, Mom."

- Lilah, upon hearing Noah spout off a string of urban legend tornado stories, looked at him skeptically and said, with hands on hips, eyebrows arched, "Just where, exactly, did all of this happen?"

- "Oh, she's the one that I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT have a crush on!!!!" exclaimed Noah while watching this So You Think You Can Dance routine.

- Aviva, definitively and out of nowhere, loudly proclaimed "BUTTHOLE!!!!" in the middle of dinner, much to the amusement of her siblings (both of whom insisted that they did not teach her that word).

- Noah was trying to teach Lilah how to make a battery circuit, but she kept confusing her positives and negatives. In frustration, Noah said, "Just let me finish it. You're not doing it right." To which Lilah replied, with a generous dose of mockery, "Are you implying that I'm stupid?"

- "Knock, knock" says Aviva, full of two year old innocence and glee. "Who's there?" someone inevitably replies. Aviva's answers are strange and varied. Her recent favorites are; "Come in already!" "10 o'clock!" "Chocolate milk!" "Swimming pool!" After she chooses her response, she collapses into a fit of giggles, pulling all of us in with her.

So, yeah, accidentally and on purpose, I hear them. And I love what I hear.

Now, if only I could get them to hear me more often...

Breakable

2008-07-08T07:34:00.000-07:00

Eight years into motherhood, it has happened. A broken bone!

Aviva and Lilah were wrestling and wrestled right into some very hard furniture. Lilah was fine, but Aviva screamed. I knew she'd whacked her foot, but didn't think it was anything serious. I chalked up her dramatic reaction to timing, as it was right around nap time and she was already somewhat tired. So, thinking that she'd be back to her feisty self after some rest, I put her down for a nap.

An 90 minutes later, she awoke crying and saying, "Mama, foot HURT!!!!"

"Crap", I thought to myself, "we're in for a long day."

I plucked her from her crib and sat her down on the changing table. I looked down and gasped at the sight - her right foot was 3 times the size of her left foot.

This is the part where I kind of went a little nutso. It was also Noah's last day of school and they were being dismissed at noon. It was 11:45.

So, I did what I had to do. I put Aviva in the stroller, took Lilah by the hand, and ran to the school. I asked every parent I knew if they would be willing to take Noah and Lilah for the afternoon, explaining that I needed to get Aviva to the doctor as soon as possible. Thankfully, it worked out well. Lilah went happily with the little sister of one of Noah's classmates, while Noah went to another friend's house. The only glitch was that the mother of Noah's friend had the audacity to insist that I pick Noah up - even after I explained the situation over Aviva's screams. I had to reiterate that I was probably going to be at Children's Hospital all afternoon and that I'd make sure that either Michael or my mother-in-law would be at our house sometime around 5 PM. She didn't argue with me any further.

I ran home with Aviva fussing and crying in the stroller, talking to the pediatrician's office the whole way. The receptionist got me a 1 o'clock appointment. This meant that I wouldn't have to deal with the ER - what a relief!!

Home. A little bite to eat. More screaming. Off to the doctor's office.

The pediatrician took one look at Aviva's foot and sent us across the street to Children's Hospital for x-rays. We spent an hour in the radiology waiting room, which thankfully had PBS children's programming and crayons, before actually getting films taken. Poor Aviva was in such pain and really wailed while getting x-rayed. She also HATED the tiny lead apron she had to wear. It was not easy, but the radiologist was gentle, friendly, and fast...then we were back in the waiting room for another hour.

They finally called us in to see the films, which showed a broken big toe and broken 1st metatarsal. Ouch.

So, we were whisked off to orthopedics. We spent another hour or so in that waiting room, where she watched Nickelodeon and I filled out a small mountain of insurance forms, until the doctor finally called for us.

The doctor reviewed the films, talked to me about pain management, and recommended a cast.

Back to the waiting room for another half hour.

(By this point, Michael was on his way to meet us at the hospital and my mother-in-law was at our house to collect Noah and Lilah.)

We were called into the casting room, which looked like a cartoon rendering of Frankenstein's laboratory, where Aviva was allowed to pick the color of her cast! It's pink, of course. Hot Pink. With that formality out of the way, it was time to actually put the cast on, which meant manipulating her injured foot. The screaming. Oh, the screaming!!!! It was horrible. I was holding back my own tears.

But then she stopped. She smiled and said, "Wook, Mama! A pink boot!"

The first week of her recovery was tough. She was extremely grouchy, irritable, and uncomfortable. She seemed to want to nap the days away, so we let her. I took her out for awhile every afternoon, spoiling her with trips to the ice cream shop and bakery. In addition to the tasty treats, she really enjoyed showing off her "pink boot" to anyone who glanced in her general direction.

Speaking of glances, I've gotten some, too, and they haven't been so nice. Some people see her cast and look at me disapprovingly or suspiciously. I wish they knew that, if I could have prevented her injury, I would have. The fact that some people could ever - no matter how briefly - entertain the idea that I could harm any of my children makes me want to scream. Accidents happen. I consider myself lucky that it was her foot and not her skull.

It's been just over two weeks now and she's MUCH better. She doesn't need anything for pain anymore and has found ways to walk and run in her cast. We see the orthopedist again on Friday morning. Hopefully, he'll recommend taking the cast off!!

Same Difference

2008-06-17T12:42:00.000-07:00

"Scotty is a copy cat. I found that out today, Mom", Noah said to me as I prepared their after-school snacks.

"Why?", I said, humoring him and his minor grade-school dramatics.

"He has the same sneakers as me. He got them over the weekend. But I got mine two weeks ago!! He's a copy cat.", he insisted.

I explained that Stride-Rite makes many pairs of the same shoes, so it's OK that his friend has the same ones and that he probably wasn't trying to copy. He probably just liked them when he saw them in the store.

"But I don't like having the same things as people."

"Do you think being different makes you more interesting sometimes?"

"Yes. I like to do things that none of my friends do. I hate when they copy me."

"That's understandable. I was the same way when I was growing up. Now, what would like for your snack?"

"Oh, I'll have what Lilah's having."

"So quick bright things come to confusion..."

2008-05-23T06:45:00.000-07:00

Noah is not shy about his love for music, art, and theater. Occasionally, he and his friends take their lunches into the art room to hang out with Miss Birden, their adored (and adorable!!) art teacher. During one of these casual art room lunches at some point last year, Noah and Miss Birden were discussing different plays and musicals that they'd seen. They were overheard by Miss Parker, the 7th and 8th grade social studies and drama teacher, who joined their conversation and quickly bonded with Noah over their shared interests.

So, this year, when Miss Parker was planning the 8th grade play, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and was in need of a little "changeling boy", Noah was the first person that came to her mind.

Noah, of course, was beyond thrilled to be part of the play. Not just any play, he insisted, but "Shakespeare! With the 8th graders!!!"

The play went off without a hitch. No-one missed a cue and the kids did an amazing job bringing their characters to life. The 8th graders treated Noah like a beloved little cousin - with affection, mild mockery, and mischievous corruption. Noah basked in their attention and was a rapt audience during rehearsals. Even though he didn't have any lines, he ended up memorizing most of the play and can now talk back to me in iambic pentameter.

"Lord, what fools (my parents/my sisters/you people) be!!!!"

Because this is Brookline and Brookline is a subversive, liberal, irreverently minded town, the incidental music for the play was mostly rock and punk - Killer Queen for Titania and the changeling boy's entrance; Satisfaction and Love Stinks for Helena, Hermia, Demitrius, and Lysander's love triangle scenes; I Wanna Be Sedated for when Puck casts her sleeping spells.

The Ramones are a musical staple in our house, but, before the play, Noah hadn't had much exposure to Queen or the Rolling Stones. And now he loves them. For weeks, he played Queen's greatest hits over and over again until I was fairly certain that Brian May would show up at our door demanding royalties. The girls started singing along. Every success turned our house into an arena sporting event. A victory at CandyLand or Battleship would prompt a passionate rendition of "We Are The Champions". Hilarious!

During this whole Shakespearean-derived Queen obsession, Aviva commenced a brief tantrum-before-bedtime phase. During the aftermath of one particularly loud tantrum, I held her to my chest and whispered to her, "I used to hold you like this when you were a tiny baby. I would kiss your little head and sing to you, nurse you and rock you". She looked up at me for a moment, then in her quietest whisper, slowly chanted,

"We will...we will...rock you..."

...proving herself to be Puckish enough to delight the Bard himself - even in the last moments before sleep.

TWO!

2008-05-09T06:27:00.000-07:00

Aviva turned two on April 19th at 9:41 PM, which I do realize is almost A MONTH AGO already!!! School vacation, Passover, and a stomach virus that has overtaken the house for the past week and a half all prevented me from writing about her birthday. That makes me a bad blogging mama, I know.

We celebrated her special day with her grandparents and chocolate cupcakes. She was thrilled to open her own presents and definitely understood that they were just for her, as she screamed "MINE" whenever Noah or Lilah came too close to one of her new treasures. She ran around the house saying, "Aviva BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!" all day. She wanted to sleep in her party dress. She had the birthday fever and it was contagious! We all enjoyed watching her enjoy her special day.

She is two. Not terribly two. Just two - running amok, talking a blue streak, redecorating the house with her trusty box of crayolas, climbing everything - and, basically, doing everything that a two year old should be doing! She is content, flexible, feisty, bright, and a bit of a comedienne. She keeps up with her siblings and knows how to share the spotlight. She loves to snuggle just as much as she loves to wreak havoc. She's my baby, the sweet surprise of my life. Happy birthday, Aviva!!

Shiny Happy Ribaldry

2008-04-29T16:05:00.000-07:00

It started with a picture.

I was thumbing through the latest issue of Wondertime as the kids finished their post-dinner cookies. I came to a regular feature, a single page item entitled "9 Month Miracle" that shows an intrauterine photo of a developing fetus and gives a brief explanation as to the stage of development.

Lilah caught sight of it and said, "Oh my goodness, what is wrong with that baby???"

"Well, nothing really", I said. "It's just not fully developed yet. This picture is from inside it's mother's uterus. The baby in the picture has been growing for twelve weeks! Most babies stay inside of their mothers for about 40 weeks before they're born."

Noah said, "So, twelve weeks before that picture, the sperm from the testicles and the egg from inside the vagina made the baby?"

"Right." I said, grinning at his detailed question.

"I have testicles." He said, like I didn't know. "Two of them."

"But my friend Ethan* has 3!!!!"

"REALLY?" I sputtered, having choked on my tea, laughing.

"Really. He tells EVERYONE.", Noah chuckled.

"I have two holes in my vagina!!!", piped Lilah, laughing hysterically.

"Spongebob Squarepants!!" Aviva shouted, wanting to be included in the hilarity.

We all laughed very loudly, then Lilah wondered...

"Does Spongebob have a penis or a vagina?"

Aviva answered, laughing, "Spongebob Penis!!! Penis!!! Penis!!!"

At this point the kids were laughing so hard that they don't even hear me wonder if it was also absorbent, yellow, and porous.

This all led to a joyful rendition (albeit a slightly revamped version) of the Spongebob theme song, complete with a crazy, Twyla-Tharp-meets-Elaine-Benes, interpretive dance from Lilah.

My cheeks - the ones on my face - hurt from laughing :)

*name changed to protect the triply endowed wunderkind

The Trickle-Down Effect of Mundane Chaos

2008-04-14T13:16:00.000-07:00

Every Friday night, I try to make a nice Shabbat dinner. This past Friday, I was feeling ambitious and I had some time - so, I got a roast and a bunch of lovely root veggies.

As the oven was preheating, I was searing the roast on the stove top. That's when I heard it - the distinct sound of shattering glass. I turned to see Aviva looking shocked and standing just inches away from the sea of shards on the kitchen floor. I quickly scooped her up and took her out of the kitchen.

She chose that very moment to poop.

I walked back into the kitchen, roast still searing, glass all over the floor. I grabbed the dustpan and hand-broom and got down on my knees to tackle the mess. Aviva started to follow me. In shooing her away, I lost my focus and put my hand down....right onto a huge shard of glass.

I stood up and took stock of this situation.

A roast almost burning, a diaper that needs changing, glass all over the floor, and a bloody hand that was now dripping everywhere.

Standing there in my kitchen, swirling in the epitome of mundane chaos, I laughed. And laughed some more. Because, really, what else can you do when faced with so many minor emergencies at once?

I turned the burner off, wrapped my hand in a towel, swept the glass off of the floor, changed Aviva, bandaged myself properly, then resumed cooking dinner.

And all was well, except...

The root veggies. The lovely parsnips, sweet and baby new potatoes, beets, shallots, and carrots were...um...overdone. I assume it's because the roasting pan was so hot from the unexpectedly prolonged searing.

Lilah and Noah were not happy with the state of their potatoes. I apologized and told them that they could have extra challah and salad, which they happily accepted. The roast was a perfect, juicy medium-rare. Lilah even went so far as to proclaim the evening as "magnificent!". I thought all was well; that the chaos and burnt veggies were forgotten.

Until....

I crawled into Lilah's bed, snuggling up to say goodnight. She turned to me, looking very serious, and, with trepidation, said, "Mom, I need to tell you something." "What?", I asked, curious as to why she was so solemn. She took a deep breath and, with heavy sadness, said,

"Dinner was not as good as I expected it to be."

Stifling hysterical laughter, I just said, "Me, too." and kissed her goodnight. Then I went upstairs and laughed some more. Because, really, what else can you do?

Yes

2008-04-04T07:38:00.000-07:00

"I imagine that yes is the only living thing." - ee cummings

Yes. When we say yes, it is the most alive answer, even if it's not the correct answer. With yes, we give ourselves and others a chance to learn, to grow, to feel hope, to question, to make mistakes and learn from them. With yes, the possibilities are infinite.

My best Shiny Happy yeses:

- "Mom and Dad, can I spend some time abroad?" Yes. They said it together, without missing a beat, and allowed me to, simultaneously, have the most amazing adventure of my young life and learn how to be self-sufficient.

- Anytime I welcome a new friend into my life, I rejoice. Yes for all of my friendships - new, old, great, not-so-great. They are my source of laughter, perspective, and support. They call me out on my flaws. Most of my happiest moments have been spent with my chosen family, my friends. Yes.

- "Will you give me the honor of being your husband?" "Yes", I said, with a grin. "Are you sure?" "Yes", he said, slipping my Grandmother's antique diamond ring onto my finger. With that yes, we became a family.

- "Yes", whispered urgently in the darkness, feeling the warmth of his skin, allowing him to open my mind and body.

- "Cori, would you like to touch his head?" Though I didn't actually say it out loud, with that yes, I caught Noah as slipped from my body and into the world.

- "Yes", said to eager children with (mostly) reasonable requests. With yes, I bring them joy, excitement, fun, relief, comfort, and security. With yes, I am their mother.

Yes. My favorite word. My favorite thing to do everyday. Yes.

Radical Mama tagged me for this quotation themed blog. I'm passing the fun on to Magic Beans, Smiling Happy People, Boys:3; Girls:1, and Welcome to My Closet - four women who can find life and infinite possibilities in the simplest of things. Don't say no :-)

What happens in the basement...

2008-03-26T08:38:00.000-07:00

Noah was complaining about a smell that was emanating from the basement.

"It's the hose." He said. "The guys upstairs keep their hose down there. Now it stinks."

Poor, smelly hose :-) Giggle, giggle.

Shiny Happy moments of the last few days...

2008-03-18T17:33:00.000-07:00

Here we go!

- Noah "broke up" with his "girlfriend". Because? He saw her eat food off the floor. "Ewwww", he says. "What if she tried to kiss me??? And her face is full of floor germs!!!" I told him that it's best to be nice and be her friend, but don't ignore her or tease her. He agreed. Then he said, "Mama, I would love you even if you ate food off of the floor...just as long as you didn't kiss me afterwards."

- Lilah's use of colorful adjectives/adverbs is becoming....stratospheric, boundless, exorbitant, plethoric, superabundant....and just a bit too much!!!! This week, everything was "incredibly and amazingly" or "unbelievably and ridiculously". I had to laugh (a lot!) when she referred to my mother-in-law's posterior as "amazingly, terribly gigantic". Oh, the honesty!!!!!!

- Today, Aviva kept saying, "Mommy, I leaked!", but her pants were dry. I eventually figured out that she referring not to her diaper, but to herself!!! Time to get out the potty, I think.

- My Shiny Happy Dad (who is not all that Shiny Happy, but really, neither am I) is another year older. Happy Birthday, Dad. If you drink bourbon (preferably Knob Creek), raise your glass to his 64 amazing years and play your finest copy of Mahler's 3rd.

- Noah lost another tooth. It fell out while we were at Trader Joe's! He left the tooth fairy another lovely note, inviting her to stay and eat cupcakes. Again, the tooth fairy had to decline, citing the difference in time zones as her excuse. She was very generous, though, as she only had a $5 bill in her wallet :-)

- Aviva is obsessed with the mittens and socks in Goodnight Moon. At every page on which they appear, she squeals, "Mit-tens and socks!!" repeatedly, while pointing to the images. I believe the causation of this behavior to be her refusal to wear the aforementioned items at any point in her daily life. She loves that they're hanging there, so close to the flames....

- Yesterday, Lilah asked me if we could have a playdate when she's a grown-up. "Absolutely, Lilah!", I said, asking her what she'd like to do on our grown-up playdate. I am holding her to it. When she's a grown up, we're going here. And it's going to be awesome!!

Eight!

2008-03-13T06:17:00.001-07:00

At 4:17 AM on March 9th, Noah officially turned 8! Eight years have passed since my 23 hour labor and lightening-fast delivery. Eight years since his big, brown eyes first opened to look at me. Eight years since my heart grew three sizes and just kept on growing.

Highlights of the past year:

- Missing teeth! Noah laughs and says, "Mom, I believe in the tooth fairy. You know why? Because I believe in YOU." Geez. You can't put anything past that kid.

- Noah is now more peer oriented, which is scary and wonderful. His friends, for the most part, are great kids. The influence has been positive so far, although I may need some internal-safe bleach to remove the High School Musical soundtrack from my mental playlist.

- Speaking of music, his tastes have become even more diversified. He listens to the likes of Rachmaninoff, Brubeck, The Shins, Regina Spektor, Paul McCartney, Bob Marley, and that teeny-bopper crap with equal interest.

- Piano! Amazing! Last year, he was just playing melodies by ear. This year, he can play harmonies as well. In his lessons, he's gone through 4 levels of books since his last birthday.

- He loves his "boy stuff". Legos, cars, trains, snap circuits. The projects have grown in scale and complexity. Very cool!

- He went to his first game at Fenway back in July and is now a true Sox fan. He's still talking about it!

-----------

To celebrate his birthday on Sunday, we had a big party. A Mad Science party. Sixteen of Noah's friends came to make their own slime, experiment with dry ice, and eat cake. It was CRAZY!! My house has never been so noisy! I'm thankful that my parents were here to help out, especially because my mom taught 2nd grade for several years and knew how to get them all to sit down and be quiet. Everyone had a great time, though, especially the birthday boy.

Party highlights:

- The Mad Science demonstration ended with a CO2 vapor shower over all of the kids' heads - cool!!

- All of Noah's friends cheered loudly for Lilah when she volunteered to help with an experiment, which I thought was very sweet. Lilah's face lit up with joy, so beautiful!

- Noah's friends sang "Happy Birthday" so loudly that Noah had to cover his ears!

- Two of Noah's more rambunctious buddies made up a new game. It's called "Cake Explosion". I caught them both - one in each arm - as they turned the corner from the kitchen into the dining room. They were covered in frosting and cake crumbs!!! COVERED!! It was messy AND funny :-)

- My dear, old friend, Evan, and his wonderful wife, Salina, came to join the fun. It was great to see them and catch up a bit.

- Noah got some amazing presents, most of which will allow for more projects and more game nights!

- Cake! Yum.

- A happy birthday complete with a happy birthday boy. That's what matters most.

Mortified!

2008-03-07T08:21:00.000-08:00

You know how some people can definitively pinpoint their most embarrassing moment in life? Yeah, I'm one of those people now.

Let me start by telling you a bit about my house. We live in a big, old Tudor that was converted into a two-family home sometime in the late 1960's. We occupy the first two floors, while the top level is occupied by 3 men, all in their late 20s. We share access to the basement and sub-basement via a dimly lit, back stairwell. The basement contains our laundry room and a storage area for both units, the sub-basement is where the heating and water systems originate.

So, I was doing laundry. Noah's laundry. As I tossed in his jeans, I realized that my jeans - which were on my body - needed to be washed, too. So, I took them off and threw them in the machine, leaving myself clothed only in pink boy-short style panties and this t-shirt.

Hot, right?

I had just closed the lid of the washing machine when I heard something. Footsteps. Adult male footsteps. Coming down the back stairs. Getting to the landing and NOT continuing to the sub-basement.

Oh, crap!!!!!!!

There I was - practically naked from the waist down and wearing a shirt that was basically advertising myself as edible - with one of my upstairs neighbors steps away. What to do????? I was silently freaking out...

I didn't have time to hide, so I just stood there and smiled. Said hello. Pretended like nothing was missing, especially my pants. He tried not to look while asking me if he could borrow my washing machine, as their machine was broken. I tried not to look at him, either, as I was blushing and certain that my face was probably as pink as my underwear.

I quickly said yes, freeing him to run up the stairs and escape the dense fog of awkwardness. I was left cringing, blushing furiously....and laughing. Because, although I was very embarrassed, the hilarity of the situation was overwhelming!

Lesson learned. Laundry gets done while fully clothed.

The upstairs neighbor? Still can't look me in the face.

Lingo

2008-03-04T08:40:00.000-08:00

I am alarmed.

Lilah is starting to sound like Juno. She's 5, so it's safe to assume that she's not using the lingo to negate the horrifying chaos of an unwanted pregnancy.

"T-out, Mamacita.", she says to me as we play the alphabet game. "T-out", she says with hip out and hand up, Diana Ross -Stop In The Name of Love - style. "I need to go empty my tank", she says, scurrying down the hall to the bathroom.

A few days ago, she broke down the different types of funny, per her own experience. Silly funny, scary funny, book funny, accidental funny, real funny, quiet funny, and wet pants funny. This dissertation took almost 45 hilarious minutes and was complete with examples, but, thankfully, no actual wet pants. She now refers back to these types in her daily life and has integrated them into her vocabulary. Lingo of her own making.

She calls Noah "The elder sib" sometimes. Aviva? "The parrot".

Did I mention that she's only 5?

As of now, I am officially scared of her teen years. If she's so sharp-witted and observant at this young age, she's going to be a brilliant, vulnerable, and veritable force to be reckoned with 10 years from now. And gorgeous, too, with those huge blue eyes, dark curls, and soft features.

In trouble? Am I ever!!!!

I've got to do my best to give her a healthy, realistic sexual perspective and, by all means, keep her off the pole... or I'm going to end up with someone like Diablo Cody for a daughter. And nobody wants that, no matter how much you love your kids or claim to "only want them to be happy". Really, does Diablo actually seem happy to you? If so, then I am so sorry for whatever it was that you went through during your formative years.

So, starting now and bearing this all in mind, I'll be limiting her access to the easy chairs, pipes, vintage punk rock records, slasher movies, Jason Bateman, and hamburger phones, plus disallowing any associations with boys who run track and play guitar ....just to be safe :-)

Big Pimpin'

2008-03-03T15:43:00.000-08:00

Aviva likes to spin until she's dizzy.

"Wook, Mommy!!!!" she yells as she twirls in circles.

She says that she's spinning. It comes out, "I pimpin'!!"

Yesterday, she was pimpin' while wearing an aqua bathing cap.

Now THAT'S some big pimpin'.

Smaller Screen Debut

2008-02-19T12:44:00.000-08:00

Noah taught himself how to play Linus and Lucy over the past few weeks. I caught him on camera today! Enjoy...

Idolatry

2008-02-13T10:03:00.000-08:00

I had the craziest dream about Simon Cowell last night! Usually, when he shows up in my dreamscape, I climb on to his lap and give him the BEST PERFORMANCE EVER. And he makes those eyes at me. And it's kind of rough and sweaty.

I know, I am so naughty :-)

However, last night, it was like my own personal Robert Smigel cartoon. No sex (kind of disappointing, I must admit), but lots of surreal - yet relevant - absurdity.

Seacrest's head narrated the whole thing. He must have forgotten his body at home. Simon and I walked through Chinatown in NYC, talking smack with street vendors. Looking at fake bags and watches. He fed me exotic fruit and tried repeatedly to make me go to a karaoke bar. Seacrest told him to drop it, I wasn't the karaoke type. We sat on a bench for awhile and talked to eachother via banana phone, speaking in cliches and platitudes. Simon was wearing a kilt and his usual tight, black t-shirt. Seacrest said we were going to the haberdasher. So, we did. Simon bought a tie and a cowboy hat. He bought me a monocle, a pipe, and a poncho. Seacrest said that I looked like a communist! He then told us that we were going to the Met. We did. Simon kept putting tiny statuettes of Kelly Clarkson all over the place. Steve Carrell followed us and laughed. I laughed, too. Seacrest told me that being an American Idol is no laughing matter, which only made me laugh harder. Then, Simon laughed, too. Seacrest disappeared.

I woke up. Laughing. Freaking Hollywood week, man. It's so easy to mock, I can do it in my sleep.

The past few weeks...

2008-02-08T12:25:00.000-08:00

Have totally sucked. Just so you know. It's a multi-layered suck that I've got going on here. The I-hate-my-husband-and-the-Pats-lost-the-fucking-superbowl kind of suck. I'm dealing with stuff that not even fucking Matt Damon could fix (although, I have entertained that idea. And it was entertaining.) and it's all making me feel vulnerable and very anxious. Nothing like waking up at 2AM to a raging panic attack that already began in your dream, right??

Anyway, I'm not ready to shout the details from the rooftops of the internet. Instead, you'll get some recent Shiny Happy moments that have made these days a little brighter...

-Having a conversation with a 7 year old about randomness is probably the funniest exercise in futility EVER!!!! If you have a spare moment and a spare 7 year old, try it.

-When Noah bends his sister's Barbie at the waist, points her bottom towards you, and makes a fart noise, you have to laugh. Because it's just funny.

-Working on Thursday was hilarious because of a particularly stubborn group of new moms. It was fun trying to find new and exciting ways to say no to their outlandish and impossible requests. It was even more fun to watch them rephrase the same questions over and over again. But, the most fun was when they gave into my initial suggestion anyway, after almost 20 minutes of verbal Twister.

-I got to hang out with Karrie and another friend over coffee and yummy treats. Our other friend brought her newborn, over whom the cooing was prolific!!!

-I found an awesome old box. A box decorated in Tori Amos pictures and artsy, acerbic magazine clippings. A high school box!! The usual mementos were in it, as were things I didn't expect. It was fun to search through it and read notes from old friends, look at pictures, and find my 17 year old self again.

-Lilah had her allergy tests and she can now eat eggs!!!! She officially outgrew an allergy!! Welcome back, French toast. Hello, gooey brownies. Oh, how I've missed you.

-File this under "What the...?". Two life-long Patriots fans (and old family friends) have named their new son Peyton. Like the Manning. It's absurd.

-Noah's school had a mock primary on Super Tuesday. It's a K-8 school and grades 1-8 participated. The republican candidates? Got 2 votes. School wide. It's a remarkable thing to be secure in the knowledge that my children's friends are also being raised by unapologetic liberals. And I'm now pretty much sold on staying here forever.

Aviva Redux, 21 months and 8 days old

2008-01-27T17:55:00.000-08:00

- If you ask Aviva to "Gimme Five!!!" she'll shake her head and offer you two.

- She knows all of her letters and can almost sing the whole Alphabet Song

- She's developed empathy. Lilah was upset yesterday and Aviva stood by her, with her hand on Lilah's shoulder, until everything was OK. It was very moving to see someone so small offering comfort to someone else.

- She calls play-doh "Tito". Like she has her own personal Jackson 5er in our pantry.

- She thinks that my earrings should actually ring.

- When I pluck her from her crib after her nap, she greets me like she hasn't seen me in years.

- When our sitter arrives, Aviva greets her in the same fashion. And then she brings me my shoes and practically shoves me out the door.

- She is mischeivous in the best way possible. She is ruled by curiosity, not malice.

- She likes to sneak up on people and jump on them.

- Noah and Lilah are her favorite people on Earth.

- She understands the concept of Hide and Go Seek. And she always knows where her siblings are hiding.

- She loves to be held on my hip when I cook dinner.

- She hates wearing mittens.

- She is very girlie. Make-up, jewelry, and shoes. On the T a few weeks ago, there was a woman all dressed up for an interview. Aviva complimented her from head to toe, oohing and aahing at her earrings, shoes, scarf, and lipstick. Thankfully, the woman was a very good sport about all the attention she'd received!

- She loves dancing, especially to punk rock and soul music. There is nothing cuter than a sassy toddler dancing to James Brown or the Ramones.

- She loves to kiss people and will make it into a game if given the chance.

- She has inherited my Grammy's compulsive neatness. One of her first sentences was, "Uh, oh! A mess!" She loves to help me clean. This is a very good thing because I need all the help I can get.

- She is like a little ray of sunshine. She radiates warmth, love, and happiness. We are so lucky.

She Gets It From Me

2008-01-11T21:47:00.000-08:00

I come from a long line of stereotypical Jewish mothers - the kind that will give you enough guilt to start your own religion, have their husbands trained better than guide dogs, and who are fiercely loving, neurotic, hilarious, smart and over-involved. So, it's come as no surprise that Lilah is showing signs of being the equivalent of a Jedi master in Jewish mothering. (And that would make me akin to Obi-Wan Kenobi, I think) Some examples:

A situation in which she proves that she can administer guilt and stop a joke from going too far with one phrase:

She and Noah were joking around - wrestling and teasing eachother with hilarious, Monty Python-esque insults. "Your eyes smell like stinkbugs and you laugh like a penguin", she said, laughing wildly. "Your hair looks like curly, snake poop", Noah laughed in reply. She stopped laughing and silently took stock of the ringlets upon her head. She laid her hand gently on his forearm. With her eyebrows high and eyes wide, she looked into his face. Softly, but confidently, she said, "Now, I know you didn't mean that." And it was over. Just like that.

Concern for the well-being of others (otherwise known as the "Bring a sweater!!" trait):

I actually have several examples of this. In general, she cares about everything. She's even quipped, "I care about everything!" once or twice. However, this is the one aspect where I believe she may come to be over-bearing, as her tendency to "care about everything" sometimes clouds her sense of humor. For instance...

We were watching America's Funniest Videos some time ago and there was a clip featuring some drunk people and an above-ground pool that had started to freeze over. The people broke the pool, coating their yard with water and ice. Instead of chuckling at the ridiculous nature of the situation and the stupidity of those involved, she watched silently. Then, she looked up at me and said, "If there was ice on the pool, it's probably freezing there. Those people should really go in and get their jackets."

Oy.

Just so you know...

Lilah is a neurotic informer. She likes to involve herself in everything because, as you now know, she cares about everything. She cares so much that she has to tell you the moment anything happens. And she wants you to tell her the moment anything happens to you.

I'm trying to help her keep this in check by validating (and sharing) the important and everyday information, but subtly brushing-off anything incredibly irrelevant or gossipy. It's taken the edge off, but there is definitely room for improvement.

I think this trait skips generations. My mom has it, but my Grammy didn't and nor do I. Go figure. But, hey, neurosis is a requirement for Jewish mothers in my family. That box is checked.

On Marriage:

"I want to marry (a friend from our neighborhood). I think he'll be nice and he'll probably do whatever I tell him to do."

At least I know she's paying attention.

The Whole Mishpocha

Family. It is everything. Like all the other women in my family, particularly on my mothers' side, Lilah doesn't take a breath without loyally pledging allegiance to her roots. She often asks about my Grammy, for whom she is named and who I miss dearly everyday. She asks about my childhood and my mother's childhood and hangs onto every word of the stories I tell. She hungers for information about our family herstory and projects it towards her own future. "Mommy", she says, climbing into my lap, "When I am a grown up, I am going to make dinner for you at my house, just like you do for Grammy. We'll eat together and you can meet my children and play with them and take them someplace fun."

"I'll be there", I say. "That will be wonderful".

Enjoy the Silence

2008-01-06T10:31:00.000-08:00

Noah started it.

He came home from 3 days at my parents house with a cold and impetigo. Two days later, my throat felt itchy. Another two days passed and I found myself with a high fever and no voice. I paid my doctor; a femullet sporting, no-nonsense, wise-cracking type; a visit.

(You should know that my doctor's receptionist once confused me (on paper) with my mother-in-law, who is also one of her patients. The confusion was brought about by our similar first names and the fact that we share a last name. I was pregnant with Lilah at the time. My doctor said, "Yeah, I'd hoped it would be you and not her because we don't get very many pregnant, 60 year old women. But you never know because shit happens." I love my doctor.)

So, I sat there. Got a throat culture. A rapid strep test is amusingly similar to a pregnancy test in that any decision making in the near future will depend upon the presence of a line. I watched. Oh, wait, is that? It is! Yes, it's a line!! Congratulations! It's bacterial!!

But the fun doesn't end there. My lack of voice meant laryngitis, which is viral. So, hooray! Twins!

She ordered me to be on "total vocal rest" for a few days. I'm not even allowed to whisper.

Anyway, I got home and totally freaked M out. He opened the door for me and I managed to whisper "It's twins!!" It was only after he looked fully panicked that I told him that I had two throat-related maladies and was unable to talk for a few days. The news of my silence seemed to make up for the panic I had inflicted seconds earlier. The look on his face was totally worth it, though.

Not speaking has been interesting. I am listening harder. I am listening, not just hearing, because I'm not busy think about how to respond. My kids have a rapt audience. For once, my husband can be Jay to my Silent Bob. So, I think my New Year's resolutions are to listen more carefully and to enjoy my own silence a bit more. It'll be good for everyone involved, including you!

Five!

2007-12-19T06:25:00.000-08:00

Happy 5th birthday, Lilah Rachel!!!!!!

On Sunday at 6:46PM, Lilah officially turned 5. She has grown so much this year in every possible way.

Physically, she's taller and leaner. What remained of her baby pudge has melted into muscle, revealing a child's body, lean and strong.

A year ago, she was still very shy. Now she'll tell you everybody's business, including your own. Whether you like it or not.

She is more comfortable in her own personality now. She's quirky, witty, bright, and observant. She finds humor in absurdity. She is not one to just jump into something without assessment. And she is OK with that.

She is reading! I see her passion for books and it makes me so happy to know that, eventually, there will be another bookworm in the house.

She is more aware of her femininity. She's girly. She's likes getting her hair done, nail polish, dresses, and make-up. She is aware of her body's eventual capability to sustain life (I think my line of work may come into play here. Hahaha). She wants her breasts to be "smaller than cannonballs, but bigger than clementines" when she gets them. A year ago, she had no opinions on any of these things!!!

She adores her baby sister. They play, dance, and laugh together with such joy and love. Last year at this time, she was still somewhat ambivalent about Aviva.

She makes friendships on her own terms now, rather than letting her peers decide their course for her. She seeks her friends out and plays fairly most of the time. Last year, she let herself be bossed around a lot. She is stronger and more fun, from what I've seen, now that she's under her own control.

I hope that this 6th year of life will just bring more strength, silliness, and growth for her. Our love and pride for her grows everyday. She gives our life a special sparkle that makes our days magical and full of whimsy, no matter what we're doing.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

On Sunday, we had a party to celebrate the big 5. Almost everyone showed up, despite the huge nor'easter that blasted us with snow and ice. The kids did sand art projects and ran amok, while we adults ate, chatted, and watched the Patriots exact revenge upon the Jets. Lilah was thrilled with her gifts, had fun with her friends, and gorged herself on vegan pizza and cake. It was a great day! Here are some pictures of the birthday girl...

Doing sand art!

Look at that CAKE!!!!

Finally, in cake-induced bliss :-)

Pushing Buttons

2007-12-14T06:08:00.000-08:00

Aviva thinks that M actually goes to work inside of our phone. "Daddy in dere!!!" she exclaims, running to me, phone in hand. "Heh-woah, Daddy! Buttons!" I usually oblige. Push the buttons. Call M at work just to she can say hi, send kisses through the phone, and try to hang up on him.

This morning she brought the phone to me, but, instead of asking for M, she looked worried and uncertain. "Uh-oh.", she said. Holding the receiver to my ear, I heard the confused inquiry of a person speaking in a language that was, I think, Thai or Vietnamese.

The phone bill will make for interesting reading this month.

An update of sorts

2007-12-12T06:23:00.000-08:00

- I have a new job and I love it! I'm working 30ish hours a week at a maternal wellness center. This, of course, means that I am way busier, but I am making more money and still doing what I love.
Because of this new and exciting development, I spent the bulk of last week interviewing potential babysitters, which was interesting to say the least. Living where we do, there are lots of capable, college-aged girls to choose from. There is also an equal amount of incapable kooks. We saw our fair share of both types. All of the qualified candidates were invited to our home for an interview so that I could see them interact with the kids.
I chose to do it that way because children are amazing judges of character. Lilah, in particular, seems to have a built-in superpower for seeing peoples' true colors. If she intentionally shies away from someone, especially after being initially friendly, it's a good indicator that we should keep that person at arms length or just stay away. Also, the girl we hire is going to be part of their lives on a regular basis. They deserve some say in who gets that distinct and noisy pleasure!!
After we'd met everyone (and with the kids' approval), we found two great girls to use. One will help occasionally on weekends, one will come regularly during the week. I just hope it all works out well!

- - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - -

Noah's Chanukah had its' ups and downs. He liked most of his gifts, especially the books, games, and crafts. But he hated the Transformers we bought him. I felt awful. I felt like a a horrible mom because I really thought he'd love them.
Then we opened the package from my mean, crazy, drunk Grandmother in Florida. Inside, there was an apron for Lilah, a baby spoon for Aviva, and for Noah: an adult mens' watch with a broken strap and a dead battery. He started to cry and said, "I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Chanukah!! And I hate Grandma Betty! Sending someone a broken present is just RUDE!!" Oy. At least Judith Viorst got a shout out. Sadly, becoming aware of my Grandmother's hideousness is a bittersweet milestone in my family. I figured it out around his age, too. This is going to sound awful, but I'm saying it anyway: At least he won't have to deal with her crap for as long as I did. That, whether you agree with it or not, is a gift!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We got a hamster. The kids named him Ralph, after the mouse in the Beverley Cleary books. M really had to twist my arm to take him in because I usually loathe rodents. But he is really cute and the kids are thrilled to have a pet! Getting him really made their Chanukah extra special. They were so surprised!! Noah and Lilah love to watch him eat and play. Aviva just likes to stand by his cage, saying hi to him, calling him cute, and shushing all of us if he's asleep. Any hamster care tips would be appreciated!

- - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

My sweet Lilah Rachel is turning 5 years old on Sunday!!! We're having a party, whether there's a blizzard or not!! I'll tell you all about it next week.

8 Crazy Nights!

2007-12-04T06:08:00.000-08:00

Put on your yarmulke, here comes Chanukah!!!

Tonight is the first night. After sundown, we'll light our Chanukiah and say the blessings, recounting the bravery and miracles that happened thousands of years ago. Chanukah, from a female perspective, is such a great - albeit gory - story. The war that led to the destruction of the temple was brought about by Judith, who was raped by the Syrian warrior Holofernes as he sieged her home. She tricked him to come back to her and cut off his head. The Syrians were pissed about that and smashed the Temple to bits. The Maccabees and their army, in retaliation, smashed them to bits. Meanwhile, the oil lasted for 8 days and nights and everyone had a party!!! Now we eat fried foods to honor the miracle of the oil and light candles to represent the light in the temple, but I always think of Judith when I sing the blessings. These nights are hers.

The kids are excited to eat latkes, light candles, and open gifts. I am excited to make latkes, chant the blessings, and and watch the kids open their gifts. M will be home from work early to join the fun. It will be a nice start to a festive week! Chag Sameach to my Jewish readers.

Enjoy!!!!

Lucky 7's

2007-11-27T13:29:00.000-08:00

Kind of Crunchy Mama tagged me for the 7 random things about meme. So, here we go...

1.) I have an irrational fear of extremely deep water and extreme heights. So, no cruises or skydiving for me.
2.) I kill houseplants. I am repeat offender with a high rate of recidivism. Freshly cut flowers suit me better because, once you cut them, they're already dead.
3.) I am a chocolate snob. I love Lake Champlain chocolates and the good stuff from Belgium - Leonidas and Neuhaus.
4.) I think I'll probably vote for Obama in the primaries.
5.) I am a big football fan and worship at the altar of Tom Brady. 11-0: wicked freaking awesome!!!
6.) I think it's a pain in the ass when Chanukah falls early, as it does this year. But I still love it just the same. Maccabees, miracles, latkes, parties, candles, gifts - all good stuff!
7.) Even though I'm Jewish, I love Christmas music. My favorite popular Christmas songs are the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah MacLachlan duet of "G-d Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", The Waitresses "Christmas Wrapping", "Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth" by David Bowie and Bing Crosby, and "2000 Miles" by the Pretenders. I'll even admit to humming along with "Santa Baby" and indulging my children if they ask me to turn up the volume when "Dominic the Donkey" comes on the radio. I've sung in many choirs and love certain liturgical pieces, too, even though I have to hum through the parts proclaiming Jesus as savior, lord, or sausage king of Chicago. OK, maybe not that last one ;-)

This meme has made the rounds pretty well, so tag yourself if you haven't done it yet!!

Fences, shmences

2007-11-26T13:37:00.000-08:00

We went to visit M's grandmother on Sunday, which was fine. A nice quick visit.

The drive home, however, entails going through some questionable parts of Chelsea and East Boston. As we passed The King Arthur Motel and Keno Lounge, M jokingly said,

"I wonder how much a room is there."

"We could probably break a twenty." I joked

"I might even have enough left over for a lap dance", laughed M.

"Have you ever had one of those?"

Pause.

"Yeesssssss", said M with an enormous smirk and a tone that reflected self-satisfaction and feigned shame. "In NYC. With (his best friend) before we were both married."

"Did you go to a (finger quotes!) Gentlemens' club?", I said, laughing.

"Yeah. She was Palestinian, I remember."

Hysterical laughter. From me. Then I managed to say:

"Was her signature move 'The Temple Mount'?

Hysterical laughter.

"Did she have a Fertile Crescent?"

More hysterical laughter. Both of us, this time!

"You can laugh all you want, but I made my peace with the Palestinians that night!"

"No. You paid for it.", I giggled.

"Worth every single dollar." M said, still laughing.

I am still laughing about this conversation and have been all day! And I now refer to my half-Israeli, half-Russian Jewish husband's lap as the "Semite Express".

Over the River and Through the Woods

2007-11-20T08:13:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't been blogging. The personal drama has been overwhelming. If I chose to write, it would inevitably be about said drama and that drama is too personal to shout from the rooftops of the internet.

However...

Thanksgiving is two days away!!!! We are making the pilgrimage to my hometown. It's a small Massachusetts hamlet just suburban enough to have some chain restaurants and a Home Depot. I hate my hometown, not because it's small, but because it's ideals reflect it's size. Everytime I go there, I am reminded how grateful - thankful! - I am to live elsewhere.

Yet, everytime we go, I am also reminded how much my children love it there. The main draw is my parents' house, which is a mecca for their spoiled grandchildren, but the kids also adore the wide open space - the kind that city life lacks. Bunnies in the huge yard? Check! Snakes in the garden? Check! Cherry tree for climbing? Check! The ability to see even the farthest star on a clear night? Check! Even the relative quiet is an object of love and fascination. My children are accustomed to the noise of city life. They are lulled by the whir of cars and the sound of the nearby T trains. Yet, after every visit, Noah says, "I just love the calm and quiet at Grammy and Gramps's house. There is no noise unless you make it yourself." While I am grateful to be raising them in a wonderfully urban, diverse, and educated area, I am also thankful that they can have these experiences in the woolly wild of the 'burbs. And I'm thankful that they know the difference.

This year, my parents (thankfully) are having a houseful. Aunts, uncles, cousins, my sister and her fiance, plus the 5 of us. It'll be interesting, probably quite fun, and - with mom and me doing most of the cooking - most certainly delicious!

So what else am I thankful for?

Aviva's verbal explosion and the cuteness of how she puts things. Words cannot express how cute she is and how sharp her sense of humor has become over the last few months. It's wonderful to be able to watch her grow and learn each day.

Noah's progress in piano. He is flying through his books and his ear is amazing. Last night, I was listening to Regina Spektor and he went to the piano and played it. Just like that. I am thankful for his gift and proud of him for embracing it.

Lilah's social development. Last year, she was still very shy and now she's joining in games without any help or encouragement from me! She's also doing really well with all of our homeschooling projects. I'm thankful for the extra year with her at home. She's good company.

I'm really thankful for my children, just generally speaking. Every moment (even the super noisy, smelly, sick, temper tantrum filled moments) is my pleasure.

I'm thankful that we are healthy most of the time.

I'm thankful that I live where I live.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to help people everyday.

I'm thankful for my husband and my friends.

I'm thankful that my graying hair does not yet necessitate routine coloring.

I'm thankful for Thanksgiving: The only day when I can eat a huge, starchy dinner followed by 3 pieces of pie and nobody bats an eyelash. Not even me!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Trick or Treat!

2007-11-01T05:29:00.001-07:00

Some Halloween pics!!!!

The kids had so much fun!

After I got home from my doctor's appointment, at which I got no amoxicillin OR Take 5s (grrrrr...it's viral and they had no candy!!!! WTF??!! No candy on Halloween!?!), M and I fed the little nudgeniks an early dinner. Then we helped Noah and Lilah get into their costumes. Lilah immediately started singing "Follow the Yellow Brick Road", Noah immediately commented on his ginormous man-boobs and faux muscles.

Then there was the not so easy task of wrestling Aviva into that Froggy costume. She was not a willing amphibian, especially after Noah scared the crap out of her in his Spiderman hood. But, we plied her with a lollipop and she calmed down, got happy. Seeing her dressed as the Froggy, which was also Noah and Lilah's 1st Halloween costume, made me very nostalgic and sentimental. She looked super-cute, but I was kind of sad that there will be no more little tadpoles to whom we can pass that costume down.

Off we went to the street on which everyone trick or treats! We ran into and ended up trick or treating with our friends, D and J, and their two girls, N and M, who are the same ages as Noah and Lilah. We've all been friends for years. It was nice to share such a fun night with them!

We inevitably ran into lots of other friends, too, and took our time kibbitzing while the kids gathered their loot. Our friend, A, complimented Noah on his costume muscles. He smiled and dead-panned, "Thanks, A. I've been working out." Hee!

Aviva did very well on her first trick-or-treat outing. Her mood, once we left the house, was wonderful - smiley, outgoing, and mischievous! She insisted on walking most of the time and caught on quickly as to how trick or treating works. I think she really loved being out after dinner, in the dark, eating candy with lots of other kids. She seemed to be in her element!

But then she wasn't. After almost 2 hours of Halloween fun, she was tired. So, we gave the kids until the end of the block and then we headed home. M put Aviva to bed, while I rationed candy to Noah and Lilah. They passed out a short while later, leaving M and I ample opportunity to pilfer several pieces from their loot before turning ourselves in for the night. Mmmmmmm.....candy....

Good times :-)

Happy Halloween and could you please whisper?

2007-10-31T05:42:00.000-07:00

It's Halloween and you wanna know what's scary? My ears. I have an ear infection - my fourth one this year. Like I'm a baby. Let me tell you, it hurts. All that screaming that babies and toddlers with ear infections do is completely warranted. All I want to do is rub my ears, complain, and sleep.

So, my first trick or treat stop will be at my doctor's office. I hope I get some amoxicillin...and some Take 5s.

When I'm better, my blogging mojo will return. I hope.

But, before I forget......

YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! They won!!!!!

Cannibalism (now with more fiber!)

2007-10-26T06:21:00.000-07:00

This is Aviva's favorite cereal. We were out of it this morning. This is how the conversation went...

A: Peeese!!!
M: Please what?
A: Peese a babies!
(M brings her a doll)
A: (throws doll on the floor) NOOOOOOOOONOOOOOONOOOOOOOO!!!!! A BABIES!!!
M: Do you want cheerios?
A: Babies, peeese!! Daddeeeeee!!!
M: Corn Flakes?
A: BABEEEEEEEEES!!!

Lilah looks at us like we're ripe for the old-age home and says, "I think she wants Mighty Bites. They look like babies."

Duh.

M: Aviva, we don't have any babies today. Would you like something else?
Aviva commences her first tantrum of the day.

So, my baby prefers to eat babies for breakfast. I wonder if she'd like some fava beans and a nice chianti, too .

Wicked Awesome

2007-10-24T05:40:00.000-07:00

My son loves musical theater. LOVES it. This is not my fault. Unanimously and unequivocally, the blame is my mother's. She's a huge theater buff. She's seen every musical that was ever made, even the crap ones. She loves almost all of them. (except Rent...because she doesn't identify with it. Yet the murderous barbers, French revolutionaries, and Fosse-dancing female convicts in Illinois are culturally relevant to her somehow... *snort*) She also does community theater and has been in loads of shows. It's a good outlet for her. She'd create her own drama otherwise.

Noah's interest in musical theater started when he was 4. My mom was in a Sondheim musical revue and we took him to the matinee. That was it. He's been a fan ever since! Once he expressed his interest to my mom, she was off and running - burning CDs, teaching him songs. It was cool. He was bonding with my mom, learning about more music (if you read this blog regularly, you know music is like water and air for Noah), and being exposed to the dramatic arts. All wonderful things.

Then my mom went to see Wicked in New York. That is when Noah's interest turned into LOVE. She brought back a CD and an extra playbill for him. Having read the book while I was in college, I was able to explain to Noah that it was a story about the Witch of the West and Glinda the Good before Dorothy landed in Oz. He was enthralled by that idea, even more so when I added that the Wicked Witch is not so wicked in this story. We listened to the CD together. As you might have guessed, Noah loved it from the opening measure of the overture to the last wisp of sound that hung in the air from the final note. He's listened to that CD almost everyday since he first got it and isn't tired of it yet.

I have to admit, I love the music from this show. It's theatrical without being too melodramatic or schmaltzy, the lyrics are smart, the melodies fit the characters that sing them, and the motifs are consistent from start to finish. That's why, when I heard that it was coming to Boston, I knew that I'd be taking Noah to see it. It's the first show I've actually wanted to see since Rent. Plus, seeing as Noah loves the music so much and that 7 1/2 is the perfect age for one's first real show...well, I got tickets, of course!!! Third row mezzanine, Sunday matinee, just Noah and me. Sweet!

This past Sunday was the big day. Noah was all smiles from the moment he woke up. After lunch, he dressed himself in his nicest clothes and we were on our way. I gave Noah a quick review of proper theater-going etiquette as we headed downtown. We arrived at the Opera House twenty minutes before the show was to begin, took our seats, and admired the gorgeous theater. We shared a little bit of chocolate, so that the experience would be sweet for all five senses. The lights went down. The overture began.

His face lit up! He was mesmerized. He barely fidgeted and only whispered to me once during the whole 1st act, just to say, "This is so great!"

During intermission, the line for the ladies room was insanely long, but I wasn't comfortable letting him go into the mens room by himself because it was so crowded. We were, finally, just inside the bathroom door when the lights flashed. He looked up at me, grabbed my hand, and said, "I can hold it!". Then he practically dragged me back to our seats, not wanting to miss a minute of the show.

He did very well during the 2nd act, too, sitting still, enjoying the show. When it was over, he was gushing with praise for everything he saw and heard. He asked if we could see it again, even though he knew what my answer would be. I allowed myself to be swindled at the souvenir counter. Nothing says, "I'm so sorry that I cannot afford two more tickets to this show" like a freaking $40 t-shirt. Plus one more for the jealous little sister at home.

After that, a quick stop at the stage door to meet the show people. Something I've never seen before: Noah being shy! It was cute, he was so star-struck.

It was after 5pm by then, and we were both hungry, so I took him for a slice on our way home. In our theater-going clothes, we were the finest looking people in the pizza shop! Noah noticed this and said, "I feel too fancy for this place!"

Before he went bed that night, Noah snuggled in my lap, called me the best mom ever, and thanked me for such an awesome day. I thanked him, too, because it absolutely was such an awesome day. And his enjoyment, seeing the show through his eyes as well as my own, made it very special.

"Time it was and what a time it was..."

2007-10-19T09:38:00.000-07:00

It's not every day that I - a very boring person in Massachusetts - get a phone call from South Africa. My friend Aron's crisp, melodic accent leaped over the line with excitement, "How wonderful to talk with you after 10 years! Can you believe it?!". That familiar warmth was so tangible, even with an eternity of ocean and years between us. Memories flooded my head. We laughed at kismet, grateful for the technology that allowed us to reconnect.

Aron and I shared an adventure - one that, for both of us, epitomized the new freedom of young adulthood. We met on a crazy, week long back-packing trip through Southern and Western Ireland. We hiked, sang around beat up pianos in dingy hostels, drank pints of Guinness, danced, told dirty jokes, flirted...flirted some more, saw the sights, took in the beauty, and slept next to each other on a bus back to Dublin. In the midst of all of that, and sharing that trip with about a dozen other amazing people, we became very good friends. And we were both staying in Dublin for the next few months.

We saw each other almost everyday and had fun doing all of the normal things that people do when they live abroad in their early 20's. Mostly, though, we connected on a level usually reserved for siblings or lovers (which we weren't. it was a mutual decision.). We didn't even have to talk. Just a glance, an expression, or a gesture was sufficient. Time passed. I had to come home and finish school. He had to go back to Capetown and do the same. So, we said our tearful goodbyes and vowed to keep in touch.

We did for awhile. But then there was work, babies, marriage, moving around a bit and we lost eachother in the shuffle and minutiae of daily adult life. It happens. We get older and we lose a bit of our younger selves. Friendships are casualties of this process. It's natural, even if it's unnecessary.

One evening last Winter, I was thinking of Aron and googled him. To my shock and delight, I found out that he is in a very successful band and still in Capetown. I left my information on his band's site and he emailed me a few days later. We've been back in touch ever since, sharing stories and pictures of children and spouses. He asked for my phone number, as email is such a poor medium for personal communication. I obliged. I forgot about it.

We had just finished dinner when the phone rang. An ocean away at 1am, fresh from a gig in Johanessburg, my friend Aron from long ago and far away said my name over the line.

Biblical banality

2007-10-17T05:35:00.000-07:00

This is a short conversation that Noah and Lilah had last night. Everything is verbatim, including Lilah's hilarious mispronunciation of pomegranate...

L: Noah, do all foods come from the Earth?

N: Yes, from the Earth and G-d.

L: (incredulous) G-d makes food??? No, he does NOT!

N: Well, he made one food. Manna for the ancient Jews and Moses when they were in the desert and didn't know where to go.

L: I think you're confused. I think you're meaning to say pornagranates. Ancient Jews ate pornagranates...

N: (mildly frustrated) Lilah, you can get pomegranates at Whole Foods, but you can only get manna from G-d. G-d made the manna come down from the sky! And it tasted like whatever you wanted it to taste like! So, if I had been in the desert and I had manna, I would want it to taste like pizza or bubble gum or ice cream. It was really a magical food!

L: (laughing hysterically) Just like beans!!!! Beans, beans, the magical fruit; the more you eat, the more you toot!! (more laughter) So, manna must have been made of beans!! (hysterical laughter)

N: (laughing hysterically) Lilah! Can you imagine? They would have all been tooting through the desert!

Then we were all laughing and I had visions of Mel Brooks movies dancing in my head. The cast of History of the World was sitting around the campfire a la Blazing Saddles.

Too funny!

They're ba-ack

2007-10-15T05:40:00.000-07:00

The students are back in Boston and have been for about a month now. The locals here know the moment they arrive. All around, you can see the lost, thrilled, tempted faces of new students. Everything, everywhere is instantly noisier and more crowded. College is a crazy time, especially if you happen to do it in Boston. There are over 100 colleges and universities here, so, our population triples from September through May. The massive number of students makes for a lot of pressure - to fit in, to be original, to succeed. It also means lots of post-adolescent hormones and newly minted freedom coursing through the city's veins. It smells like beer, vomit, and pot very early on Sunday mornings. Lots of shame-walking at that point, too. Young women wearing last night's eyeliner and clothing, scurrying home from one-night stands before room-mates, along with suspicions of promiscuity, awaken.

It was fraternity rush at BU last week. Wanna know how I know? Well, why else would there be an economy-sized box of adult diapers in a public trashcan outside of a student apartment building?

Welcome back students. I was you once. Enjoy the ride!

Anti-semite smackdown

2007-10-12T16:53:00.000-07:00

Let me just say that the tone of this blog is almost NEVER political, but I had just had to chime in on this one. I've always loathed Ann Coulter's uber-conservative views, but now it's personal. Oh, no she di-in't?!!? Oh, yes she did!!

I think she deserves some Jewish style torture. Thordora thinks that we should pelt her with bagels. We could even get a thousand dollars for it! That's a really great start, but I'm ready to get creative. Come into my laboratory...

First, let's make her listen to the Yentl soundtrack for an entire day. Coulter, can you hear me?

Once she's been numbed by Babs, let's shock her ears with the finest episodes of The Nanny. There is nothing like the sound of Drescher in the morning.

Then it's time for a basic lesson in Judaism with the most hilarious, brilliant Rabbi in town, which will probably be wasted and, later, twisted to prove her grossly ignorant, hate-mongering points.

Then, I'll invite all of the women from the local Hadassah group over for dinner. Between the fatty food (which is a crazy idea because the woman looks like she hasn't eaten since grade school) and the cacophonous, witty, intrusive, brilliant banter of live, perfectly imperfect Jewish women, she may just stroke out in my living room.

Then, if all of that doesn't work, we'll coat her with schmaltz, gag her with one of my mother-in-law's rock hard matzah balls, and then pelt her with bagels.

Seriously, though, we can laugh and snark all we like, but for Jews, her rhetoric is scary stuff. The brighter, more media savvy people in our world may know that she's just a blond chick in a push up bra who is willing to say outrageously ignorant things on camera for the benefit of "Christian Conservatives" and the networks that love them (cough, cough, Fox News, cough, cough). But there are people who take her seriously. And those people breed and vote. And now, for them, she's legitimized anti-semitism. Horrifying.

Shiny Happy Moments (of the past week or so)

2007-10-10T17:42:00.000-07:00

Here we go...

- Aviva said I love you!!!! She had just woken from her nap and was still warm and sleepy-eyed. She snuggled into the softness of my breasts and stayed there, melted into me, for awhile. Suddenly, she raised her face to meet mine. In a serious tone, a prelude to the presentation of fact, she said, "Mama." I answered affirmatively, calling her a sweet little ladybug. "Wuv you!", she said, laying her head back down to resume our lovely snuggle. "I love you, too, Aviva", I said, getting misty eyed. If only she knew how much.

- Lilah and I were doing some arts and crafts. After we finished our project (cute leaf-shaped sponge-paintings), I told her that she could just draw whatever she wanted while I cleaned up. I came back a few moments later and peeked at one very interesting drawing. "Wow, Lilah! That's nice. What is it?", I said. She looked at me with total exasperation, as if I were a petulant child, and replied, "Mommy, of course it is a tap-dancing parachute!!" Well, OK then. It's official. She's the cutest weirdo ever.

- One of Noah's spelling words this week is huge. In his homework, he had to write each word in a sentence. For this particular word, he wrote, "I like to huge my Mom." Awwww, so sweet! I told him that what I like best are huge hugs. Once he figured it out, he laughed and laughed at his mistake. Then, with a strangely Borat-esque inflection, he offered me a huge. Very nice.

- Aviva had another epic tantrum just before her bath a few nights ago. She got upset because I wouldn't dump out the Uno! cards for her paper-shredding pleasure. She freaked - screamed, cried, the whole shebang. She started to calm down a bit, but then realized that the door to Noah's room was closed. So, she went running and screaming down the hall, deciding to be mad about that. It was so funny to me that she actually decided to continue the tantrum after she had initially stopped. She had unfinished business with her emotions. Don't we all, though?

- I figured out that, every time you open your spam folder on Gmail, you get a link for a different Spam recipe at the top of the folder!! Now it's an odd diversion, a fun thing to do while I check mail. It's even funnier because I've never eaten Spam, nor do I plan to!! Just knowing those recipes will pop up puts a smile on my face. Where did Lilah get her weird streak from? Oh, yeah. Right here.

- Noah, Lilah, and some of their friends were playing kickball yesterday. Lilah scored 2 runs - go, Lilah, go!!! Pride and exhilaration were beaming from her face. It was fantastic!

- Aviva is a dancing machine lately. Just put on some music and she's shimmy-shaking, bouncing, and strutting around! It makes her even more irresistible. She also knows how to use crayons now. Look out walls, here she comes!!

- I am reading a great book right now, Paint it Black by Janet Fitch. This beautiful passage is not relevant to the plot, but it is relevant to motherhood and being happy with one's self. It reads, "How right that the body changed over time, becoming a gallery of scars, a canvas of experience, a testament to life and one's capacity to endure it." My brain shouted YES! when I read that succinctly gorgeous prose. I think it's a lovely expression of acceptance - of time, of aging, and the lasting marks of pregnancy and birth. I underlined it with the nearest writing implement I could find, which, in my house, is always a crayon. Seeing the bright, Crayola purple under those words just makes them resonate even more deeply.

- In the past 2 weeks, I have been in touch with several wonderful old friends. When it rains, it pours! It's been amazing, all of this reconnection. More on that over the weekend!

Fan Mail

2007-10-09T05:51:00.000-07:00

Caution reader: This is a shameless brag about my kid. You can skip it if you'd like!

Oh, my Noah!!! He's such a great kid. And, really, I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom. I have actual corroboration to my story now.

Last week, Noah got two letters from school. The first was from Mr. S, the principal. It reads:

"Dear Noah,
Nurse H told me about your kindness when you helped an ill classmate who was new to our school. That was very thoughtful of you! Way to go!
Sincerely,
Mr. S"

I thought I would just explode and spout my pride everywhere when I read this!! When Noah told me about what happened, I was so touched. He helped a new classmate, who barely speaks English, to the nurse after he vomited in the boys' room. Then, he walked him back down to their classroom and helped him collect his things before his Mom arrived to pick him up. I asked him why he did it and he said, "I just wanted to. It was the right thing to do. He was sick and needed help. He didn't know where to go, so I showed him the way to the nurse's office. It was no big deal." I told him that it was probably a very big deal to the boy he helped. I also told him how proud and impressed I am that he continues to be such a kind and caring friend to his classmates. Then I silently thought to myself, I hope they know how lucky they are.

This same day, Noah also mentioned to me that his music teacher allowed him to play a song on the piano during class. This song is one that he learned to sing last year in her class, but figured out how to play on the piano - melody and harmony - on his own. It's a pretty little song, called Big Blue Earth. The next day, Mrs. G, the music teacher, stopped Michael during drop-off and expressed her amazement at Noah's musical abilities, saying that, "What he is doing is far beyond anything expected of his age group." And that, "He has extraordinary potential." This is all stuff we knew, of course. And his piano teacher often makes similar comments. But it's always nice to hear that your kid is special and talented.

Two days later, this arrived in the mail:

"Dear Noah,
Thank you for giving your class a wonderful treat - your performance of Big Blue Earth! You play beautifully and with such lovely feeling. You are becoming a very fine musician. Keep up the good work!
Thank you,
Mrs. G"

This time, Noah was exploding with pride right along with us! He called my parents and Michael's mom to tell them about the letter. He put the letter on the piano, next to his books, so he can see it while he practices . There it will stay until Noah lets me file it away with his other special notes and drawings.

I think that both letters are wonderful examples of how inspiration can be circular and that encouragement is the best teaching tool. Noah is so fortunate that his kindness and musicianship inspired some extra thought, so his principal and teacher wrote notes, and those notes have encouraged him to keep being who he is. How lucky for all of us!

Fearless Friday

2007-10-05T13:25:00.001-07:00

Just look at my two snake-charmers...

Notice how Noah looks way more freaked out than Lilah? Yeah, so did I. I'm not surprised, though. Lilah has always been the kind of kid that feeds stray cats, coos at all manner of wild predatory beast, and lets bugs of any shape or size crawl all over her. She has professed that, if she doesn't make it in show business, she will be a vet when she grows up. Whereas Noah wouldn't play in my parents yard for the entire Summer when he was 5 because some wasps had built a nest under their deck (and he won't even acknowledge the possibility of not making it in show business). He's less fearful of critters now, though, and has come an especially long way with the creepy-crawly things - as you can see.

Speaking of fearlessness, look who thought she could fly today...

That dark spot on her head is a gigantic goose-egg. She jumped off the 3rd step from the bottom and flew right into the wall opposite the staircase. The wall won. As long as she doesn't vomit or pass out within the next 24 hours, she will be fine. Thank goodness. Maybe she knows, now, that a little bit of fear is a good thing sometimes.

This, too, shall pass

2007-10-02T05:40:00.000-07:00

I have a cold. It's one of those colds that doesn't completely keep me from staying involved with my own life, but leaves me dizzy and unable to breathe if I try to do too much. The headache component of it is pretty strong, probably because my sinuses are packed with nastiness. I'm coughing, too, and when I do, my head feels like it may just explode. If it actually did, it would probably feel like heaven. So that's where I'm at.

My mom came up to help me yesterday. She kept the kids occupied with games and stories. For dinner, she treated us to Chinese take-out. It was nice to have an extra set of hands around and to have the option of taking care of myself when I normally wouldn't. It was a pretty good day, despite my cold.

The kids had a great time with my mom. They were their silliest, most affectionate selves for most of the afternoon. Until my sister called my mom on her cell phone. First Lilah had a turn to say hi, then Noah. All the while they were on the phone Aviva followed them, begging for a turn. "Peeez, Yiwa.....PEEEEZ!! Peez, Woah.....PEEZ!! Mememe!!", she said. When it was Aviva's turn, I took the phone and held it to her ear. I didn't want her to hold my mom's cell because she's not exactly gentle with inanimate objects. Plus, I knew she'd push all sorts of buttons and run away with the phone and probably hide it or drop it in the garbage, recycling bin, or toilet. So, I figured she and I could both hold the phone together. Aviva did not agree.

That is when Aviva had the most epic temper tantrum I have ever seen. Oh, the screeching, sobbing, twisting, stomping, and flailing that ensued was some seriously oscar-worthy material. She demanded to be held, then struggled free with freakish strength, roaring and shouting the entire time. She had such conviction, such stamina! For 15 minutes, she carried on like a feral mad-woman. And, like a toddler version of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction, she would NOT be ignored.

The only thing that stopped the madness was my suggestion of a bath. She looked up at me with her red eyes and sweaty, tear and snot glazed face, sniffled and hiccup-ed, "A-a-a-a bath? A bath?" And then she trotted down to the bathroom like nothing happened.

Just like that, it was over.

I can only hope that my cold follows her example.

Harvest (or the urban, middle-class version of it, anyway)

2007-09-29T15:10:00.001-07:00

We went to Honey Pot Hill orchard last weekend to pick some apples. The weather was a bit warm, but we had fun and filled a huge bag with MacIntosh, Cortland, and Gala apples.

Noah really did most of the work. He picked about 2/3 of the apples that we brought home. He loved every minute of it, especially when he could actually climb up the trees to pick the fruit!
Lilah picked some apples, too, but ate most of them before they reached our bag! She really loved running through the orchard and climbing the trees. She climbed so many trees, in fact, that the only pictures I could get of her were taken after she had climbed down!! We kept teasing her, calling her the "apple monkey". Here she is, being wicked cute...

We took this picture of our three before we sprung Aviva from her stroller...
After that, Aviva went through that wonderfully autumnal rite of passage - picking her first apples! She did, with some help from Michael...

Once Michael put her down, there was no stopping her! She picked up apples off of the ground and put them right in the bag every time. Noah took such pride in helping her...
When she did stop for a moment to rest, I was able to take these pictures...
By the end of the day, we had 3 tired kiddos, close to 20 pound of apples, and some wonderful memories to cherish! And...Michael and I secretly scored a bag of hot, cinnamon-sugary cider doughnuts to eat on the way home. They were amazing. We shared them after the kids fell asleep on our drive home. Warm, spicy, appley, cakey, sugary perfection.

So, what did I do with all of those gorgeous apples?

I will probably never see my doctor again, if the old adage is true! I've eaten at least two a day all week. The girls snack on them, Michael has also taken some to have at work, and I've packed one in Noah's lunch everyday this past week. They're perfect apples for eating out of hand - crisp and juicy, tart and sweet.

Lilah and I also had fun using them for some cooking projects. On Monday, she helped me make a vanilla caramel. We dipped 6 of apples in it, let them set, then dipped them in some melted semisweet chocolate. They were fabulous!!

We also made 4 pies. I gave one to Noah's piano teacher, one to our friends, another to our neighbors. Of course, I had to make one for us, too. Why should everyone else have all the fun?!!? Again, fabulous!! I heart pie 4-eva.

We have enough apples left to make applesauce, which I will do tomorrow. The rest will probably be gone by Wednesday, when they will promptly be replaced by smaller quantities of their 2nd rate, store-bought cousins. Sigh.

Recent Shiny Happy Moments

2007-09-24T19:26:00.000-07:00

In no particular order...

- Noah lost his third tooth today! He wrote a letter to the tooth fairy that read, "Dear Tooth Fairy, It's Noah! I am a 2nd grader. Here is my 3rd lost tooth. Can you stay for breakfast? If you can, maybe you can stay longer, too. Sincerely, Noah

The tooth fairy wrote back, of course. She thanked Noah for his kind invitation, but declined due to the fact that there were lost teeth that needed to be collected on the other side of the Earth. I hope he's not too disappointed.

- Lilah came to me in the kitchen, jumped into my arms, and said, "Mommy, you haven't picked me up in a thousand years!!" Her delivery was perfect - drama, silliness, with a touch of disbelief in herself that she could exaggerate so completely. I hugged her tightly, tickled her ribs, and she said, "Mommy, you are so tickley sweet." "That must be where you get it from, Lilah", I told her.

- Aviva is really talking lately. Two word sentences from the 17 month old girl. I love the verbal explosion stage of toddlerhood. Everyday is full of new words from that sweet, little voice.

- A few days ago, Lilah put one of my bras on over her shirt, ran to Michael and me, and exclaimed, "I have HUGE boobs!!!" This is proof that everything looks bigger when you're 4.

- Lately, Noah's musical interests have broadened with regard to piano. He's been interested in hearing all types of music, not just his favorites. He's also been interested in watching piano performances. So, on Friday night, I let him stay up late and we surfed the 'net for everything from Rachmaninoff to Thelonius Monk to Tori Amos, Elton John, and Ben Folds. Hungrily, he took it all in, found some new favorites, and was soon fighting sleep. When I finally insisted that he climb into bed, he protested. I insisted again. He went downstairs, washed up, and was about to climb into bed when he spun around, hands on hips, and said, "I am one angry dwarf!!!" I guess Ben Folds made an impression.

- Aviva has been enjoying her own nakedness lately. Just after I get her undressed for her bath every night, she runs around a bit, rubs her belly, arms, and legs. Then she stops, raises her arms, and exclaims, "Tah-Dah!!!", as if she herself is magic. And she is.

- We went apple picking. It was awesome! Pics and more on that later this week.

Someone is in my head!!!!

2007-09-24T09:54:00.000-07:00

And his name is Anthony Bourdain!!!! I have had two dreams about him in the past four months.

The first dream was rated NC-17. The location was South Dublin, Ireland. We were stuck in the house during a storm. There was witty banter, laughter, innuendo. We did some very fun and interesting things to pass the time until we got hungry enough to go out for food. The Nasty Bits, indeed.

Last night, he showed up again, this time with a PG-13 rating. I walked with him through some city (maybe London? maybe Prague?) and we spoke about gentrification of cities and the trickle-down effect it has on the food. Then we ate. Something. Somewhere.

What is my deal????? I like his books and watch his show sometimes, but can't figure out why my mind needs night-time visitation. Why is my subconscious obsessed with him? Maybe it is our mutual love of the Ramones. Maybe it is our mutual love of great food. Maybe it is my admiration of his adventurous palate and lifestyle. Maybe I just have a crush. Whatever it is, he's in my head.

Any tips on how to exorcise a snobby, bad-boyish, intellectual, foodie/chef/writer/travel show host?