Previous month:
January 2010
Next month:
March 2010

HOLY CRAP IT'S FRIDAY. What a week. I've barely updated at all (except for here and here and here and here), even though I wanted to, planned to, was filled to the brim with good intentions. But there were never enough minutes in the the day or coffee in the pot or tissues in the box, as both kids had colds and the school district's spec-ed preschool program took (ANOTHER) full week off for home visits and assessments, neither of which we actually personally received. But whatever. Lame! Excuses are lame! Just sit down and type for awhile and hit publish when you're done. It's really not that hard. Let's check in with our principal characters: 1) Me. I did not fall down this week or otherwise injure myself. I drank the last of the coffee that we bought in Jamaica, was sad about that. Made another futile effort to finish editing and uploading the remainder of our vacation photos, failed. Did a load of laundry, ate some tapas, plotted. Not necessarily in that order. 2) Ceiba. Is happy the snow is finally melting in the backyard, but is not quite ready to give up her habit of pooping in... Read more →


First, what is probably the greatest Random TiVo Pause Screen in the history of ever: My second third favorite part is the guy on the right. HE KNOWS WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT, LADIES. *** Next, our complete coverage of the Preschool Firewood-Holder Bobsled Run. Intense concentration at the starting line. A good start of at least a foot and a half is critical. Tucking in on the corners, with lots of sound effects. Checking his time....and it's official! 8:30 pm! GO TO BED. *** Not pictured, because of a scheduling overlap with curling: Toddler figure-skating, in which Ezra decided to mimic the skaters and spin around in circles for awhile before tripping over his socks. Technically flawless, but his diaper lacked enough sequins. Read more →


On Thursday, I took Ezra to a belated Valentine's Day party at Noah's school. He sat at one of the little tables, clearly impressed with himself, hanging out with the big kids. He ate a plateful of cantaloupe chunks with a fork. When he was done, he carefully placed the fork on the plate and carefully toddled over to the classroom's play kitchen. He then placed his dishes in the little sink and fiddled with the faucet for a bit before going back to his seat. I couldn't believe it. I pointed and jabbed in his direction just in case anybody else was watching. No one was, though I insisted on telling everybody about it anyway. Who taught him that? I didn't teach him that. Who is this kid, this mimic? What different species of toddler did I produce this time? Wow. *** On Saturday, we took Noah ice skating. We bribed him, of course: If he tried ice skating for awhile we'd go to the toy store and let him pick out anything he wanted. Jason laced up his skates -- my heart clenched up in preparation for a Big Fight about New Things On His Feet, but he... Read more →


On Being That Mom

But first, elsewhere: Deconstructed Cotton Balls From Spaaaaace! *** The comments on Monday's post were...well, they were humbling. In a shaming kind of way, the endless chorus of praise and virtual applause and refrains of YOU ARE SUCH AN AWESOME MOM, because oh. Oh. Only sometimes. That moment...yeah, I'll own that. I was proud of Noah. I was proud of MYSELF. I was proud that I didn't march us back to the house in a huff of frustration and anger, letting Noah know that I was indeed, frustrated and angry, either through my words (or lack or words, ah, nothing like busting out the silent treatment on your four-year-old) or through impatient tugs on his hand: COME ON. YOU WANTED TO LEAVE, WE'LL LEAVE. GOD. I was proud that I didn't react that way. The way I react far too often. Maybe even most of the time. Fifty-fifty? On a good day? The way I reacted just the night before writing that entry, while locked in a bedtime battle of wills, confronted with an uncooperative child who wouldn't stand still, get undressed, get dressed, listen to me, look at me, stop that, stop that. If it made me feel better,... Read more →


So. This happened. And was...awesome. "This" is the result of all that snow and ice on our roof finally starting to melt. Into our house. I repeat: AWESOME. I always thought a leaky roof would look like it did in cartoons -- random slow drips coming out of the ceiling, to be caught with strategically-placed buckets in the middle of the room. Ours is more like a lovely cascading waterfall effect pouring through the paint in the window frame, as the wall above puckers and swells, and suddenly it's like, HOORAY! The whole side of this room is all squishy. How fucking cozy. I won't bore you with all the repair details, except to offer this nugget of advice: If you ever need to file a disaster claim with your homeowner's insurance, do yourself a favor and try not to time it after any kind of...I dunno...ACTUAL DISASTER. Particularly a disaster that happened to affect more than say, four other people. (CALL ME BACK, STATE FARM. I AM RUNNING OUT OF FRESH TOWELS. ALSO: PATIENCE.) Oh! Just one more bit of wisdom: If you are among the millions of unemployed who might be all, prostitution isn't sounding so bad anymore,... Read more →


On the first day of our vacation, I took Noah to the beach. Just us. Jason was putting out one last work fire. Ezra was...well, he was eating, having already figured out that 1) all the food here was delicious, and 2) he could get into the kitchen via an always-open back door, and that there was ALWAYS someone in there cooking something, and they were ALWAYS happy to give him a taste, like an over-eager puppy begging for scraps. So Noah and I went to the beach. I might as well have taken him to the dentist, because he did not want to go to the beach, because of the ocean. He did not want to go near the ocean. He did not want to look at the ocean or hear the ocean. NO OCEAN. He stood as far back on the sand as he possibly could, practically climbing up a wall of rocks in his bare feet, adamant about the NO OCEAN part. The ocean in Jamaica is not like the ocean here, which knocked Noah over two summers ago and he has refused to go near since. (He holds a mean grudge, I've learned.) It's calm, shallow.... Read more →


Before the snow, before we lost power, Noah announced that he wanted to draw some pictures. This...was news to me, as Noah does not particularly like to draw. It frustrates him. His fine-motor delays clash with his perfectionist nature. He favors his left hand but is more skilled with his right, he has difficulty getting all of his fingers to do what he wants, he sees Pixar in his head but scribbles on the paper, and within minutes he's pushing the crayon at me, asking me to please recreate the Paradise Falls tableau from Up, complete with the House, Balloons, Carl, Russell, The Snipe, The Mean Dogs and Also Russell's Lost GPS Unit Right Over There, NO, NOT THERE. THERE. All of which are also way beyond my own limited skills with an unsharpened Crayola, but whatever. They please him more than his own creations, apparently. So anyway, this request came out of the blue, as if he'd randomly asked for a bowl of Brussels sprouts. But we quickly supplied the crayons and paper and he got to work. After he was done, he asked for a toy airplane. This is the airplane outside our house. This is the house... Read more →


The worst part, at first, was the boredom. Or maybe the lack of coffee. No, definitely the boredom. When we woke up on Saturday to discover we had no power, I immediately groaned at the prospect of keeping the snowed-in kids occupied without the television. And then I groaned again, wistfully thinking of the weeks' worth of unwatched programming our TiVo had recorded while we were away. LOMFGST! Project Runway! Big Love! Assorted sitcoms! A good dozen or so competitive cake decorating shows! DAMMIT. No, wait. The coffee. Definitely the coffee. By 11 am I had a raging caffeine withdrawal headache, the likes of which I hadn't experienced since the first trimester of pregnancy (i.e. the last time I gave the slightest asscrap about improving my health and tried to cut back). No, wait. The boredom. I'd gone to bed without charging my phone or laptop, leaving my time to muck around on pointless computer games and/or complain about our lack of electricity to Twitter painfully limited. No, wait. The battery-backup feature on the Verizon Fios Boxamajig in the basement. That was the worst thing, at first. I have no idea what purpose the battery-backup actually serves, except to beep... Read more →


I woke up in the wee small hours of the morning today, just barely awake enough to wonder WHY AM I SO COLD, a thought that semi-occurred to me as I padded off in the general direction of the bathroom, right before I collided with the hard, unyielding edge of my closet door. Oh. We're back home. The bathroom's a bit more to the right. We're back home, where it is snowing, where it will apparently be snowing FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES, or at least the rest of the weekend. The villa staff did all of our laundry for us in Jamaica, so our suitcases are full of fresh clean..shorts. T-shirts. Tanks and sundresses. Bathing suits. I am tempted to just zip everything back up, shove it in a closet (I know just the one!) and sort it all out in June. This weekend I am going to go through the roughly 40,000,000 photos we took and dust off my old expired Flickr account and upload them there, just to spare you the boredom of looking at 25 virtually identical shots of my preschool cavorting in the sand, dozens of sunset pictures, and there was this one day... Read more →


I get the sense the staff here is worried that we are bored. We are not bored. We are, most likely, the boringest guests they've ever had. They keep reminding about about the hiking and snorkeling and fishing and kayaking and tubing over waterfalls, and we smile blissfully from our chair/chaise/hammock/other-place-where-we-have-planted-our-sedentary-butts and assure them that WE ARE FINE. WE ARE HAVING THE TIME OF OUR LIVES. RIGHT NOW, RIGHT HERE. WITH THE SITTING. (We did massages. In our room. Practically rolled off the bed onto the table and back again. It was delicious.) Every morning we wake up with the boys, cuddle for a bit before throwing open the windows and doors to survey the view and remember OH YEAH, we're in heaven, still. We pour ourselves some strong coffee our night watchman makes before he heads home. (I actually feel safer here than at any tourist-y peddler-targeted resort, but because we're so out in the middle of relative nowhere there are guard dogs and round-the-clock staff on the properties.) (And by "guard dogs" I mean a couple docile lumps of snuffully wuffully who's-a-good-boy-who-wants-a-scritchin' furbags.) The nanny makes the boys' breakfast (bananas and cereal for Noah; eggs, fruit and French... Read more →