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February 2013
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April 2013

...is all fun and games until someone falls off her heels and tears a ligament in her foot. I know that's not actually how the slogan goes but YOU GET MY POINT. It's not a particularly exciting installment in the (ongoing, endless) saga of Times Amy Fell Down, chapter four thousand and twelve. We were on our way to dinner and I tripped. I didn't even trip ON anything, like faux quainty cobblestone or a pile of money. There were no stairs. We were walking on nice, even carpet. I was completely sober. I simply cannot manage to walk and talk at the same time anymore, and down I randomly went, twisting my ankle all to bloody hell and taking my dainty wounded pride with it. The restaurant hostess was kind enough to vacuum seal some ice in what appeared to be a sous vide bag and I balanced that on my foot during dinner, because nothing was going to stand in my way of stuffing my damn foodhole. And thus fulfills my life-long dream of meeting Joël Robuchon, winner of ALL TEH MICHELIN STARS, while gritting my teeth in pain because my ice pack has fallen off. Bonus points... Read more →


Usually, during spring break, we just end up kicking around at home, trying to get work done as usual as our children slowly, surely descend into stir-crazy insanity from the break in routine. I believe by day three of last year's break Jason and I were hiding from them in a closet, whispering desperate promises to NEVER DO THIS AGAIN. Next year we would take them somewhere, anywhere, as long it was outside of our house and offered a reasonable number of activities, particularly of the "tiring kids out" variety. We looked into Disney and other family-friendly vacation spots and were stymied by either the price or the fact that Ike would be too young to really participate or remember any of it. (And SORRY, if I'm shelling out the big bucks for a magical family vacation Y'ALL BETTER REMEMBER IT, even the parts you spent crying because Mommy refused to buy you cotton candy for breakfast. Here, stand next to the vendor and direct your wailing at the camera so I may preserve this preshus memory forever.) The timing for a big family vacation was off, maybe next year when Ike's a little older. So how do we kill... Read more →


Just Some of the Things I Pretend to Be Good At

Yesterday I got dressed up in my best guess at what 'business casual' entails these days and watched my husband give a software presentation and demo-thing at Microsoft. (Or more accurately, I watched my husband give his presentation for the fourth time, since he rehearsed it for me three times the night before while trying to get it down to under 50 minutes, which he finally did sometime after midnight. I think. I fell asleep about 20 minutes into the third run-through.) I sat in the back row and copyedited marketing materials and poked coworkers with pens until they agreed to contribute to the corporate blog. My phone's signal kept dropping off and Microsoft's corporate wifi doesn't play nice with an iPhone (IMAGINE!), so I ate two croissants and doodled a lot instead. It was still all very exciting, since I leave my home office all of four times a year, as "consultant" is basically another word for "socially maladjusted hobbit." I also did not fall down, spill anything or get attacked by pigeons in the parking garage, so. Win. Today I skipped my shower, put my hair in a decidedly not-foooling-anyone topknot and am currently bracing my nerves for... Read more →


Excuse me, but did I or did I not have a baby around here somewhere? At least somewhat recently? We all call him Ikey now, instead of Baby Ike. It's a good compromise. He's funny and cute and incredibly laid back, one might even say downright easy, but he's also totally trouble if you aren't paying attention. He looks just like Noah, eats just like Ezra and is the only one of my children who loves Elmo beyond all sense and reason. The way he says "Mama" puts my heart through the shredder, every time. Everybody tells you it goes fast; it goes so, so fast; enjoy it because FAST. They tell you this when your first baby is like, seven minutes old and the idea of him ever being anything but a fussy little non-sleeping blob sounds completely crazy. You've aleady forgotten what it feels like to sleep. It all goes so fast? THAT'S FASCINATING. OKAY, TRYING TO KEEP AN INFANT ALIVE OVER HERE, BRB. What they don't tell you is that it goes even exponentially faster with each subsequent baby. You have a frame of reference now. You know the stages: That already-sleeping-through-the-night-newborn is nothing to brag about... Read more →


part one || part two || part three || part four || part five MEANWHILE, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SINK: "Listen, Samuel Adams Alpine Spring, we need to talk. Are the rumors true? "I'm afraid they are, fellow cheesily-named Seasonal Brew. I'm in love." "Then it's time for you to decide. Are you a beer... ...or are you a deodorant?" MEANWHILE, IN BETWEEN THE TWO SINKS: "We can't keep meeting like this, Alpine! It's too risky. If my brothers ever found out..." "But I need you, Suave Invisible Solid! I need you and your extra-effective 24-hour protection! You are my everlasting sunshine! Nothing can keep us apart!" MEANWHILE, ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE OTHER SINK: "We know what's going on. We know and it stops now. You've changed, Suave. You used to be so simple and gimmick free and powder fresh and now you and your boyfriend and non-properly hyphenated and redundant promises ARE TEARING THE ENTIRE COMMUNITY APART." "Listen, Suave. I am the BOSS OF YOU. I just took the word "Matterhorn" and decided it was a SCENT. Cuz BAM. I smell like ICE, WIND & FREEDOM. The mountain-forest-water tableau on my label looks suspiciously similar... Read more →


The meeting went just as well as expected, which is to say awesome, which to say I love everyone and everything right now. Including you! Oh, you. Come give us a cuddle. Noah will transition to the general education classroom for math after spring break, surrounded by the nicest, most supportive team of bona fide Noah Fangirls that we've ever encountered since starting this journey over five years ago. These people looooove him and think he's amazing. And of course I tend to agree. I should note, in case anyone was/is concerned that we're getting rushed or pushed out of services: There is actually no change or reduction at all in the number of service hours on the IEP. As Kari explained in her comment: It's simply a placement change, aka where he will RECEIVE those hours of service and special ed support. Least Restrictive Environment; pull-outs vs. integration; etc. But the support is still there: The school is still being held accountable to make sure Noah's needs are being accommodated and that he makes progress on all his academic and behaviorial goals. He'll continue to receive one-on-one OT and be allowed extra time for tasks and testing and to... Read more →


So that...figured. Despite all my big talk and confidence on Friday, Ezra completely freaked out and melted down at his first belt test. It was held in a different room, with a different instructor, and Ezra decided to show his displeasure with these changes by being as obstinate as humanly possible. "Okay, boys and girls, everybody please sit criss-cross applesauce facing me." Ezra sits criss-cross applesauce facing the opposite side of the room. "Everybody line up in a straight line right here." Ezra plops himself down in a random corner, seven feet away. "Everybody stand up." Ezra sits down. "Everybody sit down." Ezra stands up. Aaaaaaaaand ecetera. I pulled him aside on at least two different occasions and told him we'd need to go home if he didn't start...uh, where to begin? Cooperating? Listening? Participating? Doing everything that is the exact opposite of what you are doing right now? He did not want to leave. He cried and begged to stay when I offered him his shoes, which made me feel just great, super great, I'm so glad we're spending a ton of money every month for this enriching experience, but then he would re-join his class and remain completely... Read more →


Ezra and Ike didn't have school today, thanks to parent/teacher conferences. Ezra's went fine, and his teacher literally used his name as an adjective to describe some random classroom behavior. "That's just so...Ezra, you know?" Yeah. I know. Claaaassic Ezra, man. (I did not attend a conference for Ike, because he's only barely attended nine full days of school so far. Christ, I still come home after dropping him off and have a momentary panic at the sight of his empty car seat because OH GOD WHERE DID I LEAVE THE BABY.) (I DUNNO. MAYBE THE SAME PLACE I LEFT MY PANTS?) Anyway, I reminded Jason about the day off this morning (super helpfully, from my beddy nest under the covers and at least four pillows), since he tends to forget and then needlessly hassle poor Ez out of his beddy nest of EVERY STUFFED ANIMAL EVER. Ezra's like me: We enjoy a good sleeping in, almost excessively so. Jason starts losing his mind on Satudays if I sleep until 9 — why, it's so laaaate, how are you still tirrrrred — even though I could easily stay unconscious until 11. Let the boy sleep! This morning, though, Ezra was... Read more →


For many many MANY years now, the American Girl company has sent me their catalog, at least once a year, without fail. The very first catalog arrived at my parents' house when I was 12 years old. I think I turned 13 just a few weeks later. Too old for a doll, especially such an expensive doll, but I remember my mom and I snuggling up in bed one morning to ooh and ahh over the dolls (AND THE ACCESSORIES. DEAR SWEET GIRLY PINK JESUS THE ACCESSORIES) and I thought that maybe...just maybe...my parents would spring for a Samantha doll, for one final nostalgic hurrah of childhood. They did not. Woe and alas, but also: I WAS 13 YEARS OLD. PUT DOWN THE BARBIES, CHILD. Yet the catalogs kept coming. And coming. They followed me to my first apartment in college, and then to my first apartment with Jason. To his immense credit, he never judged me for the hour or two I'd spend on the couch with that catalog, staring at the dollsssss and the clothesssss and the teeny tiny historically accurate tea party foodsssss and gaaahhhhhhhh. He did notice, though, and a couple years later he surprised me... Read more →


I imagine many of you, upon hearing the words "LET ME SHOW YOU MY KID'S ART PROJECT," have the exact same reaction as if I said "LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THIS WEIRD DREAM I HAD." Which is to promptly set yourself on fire, and then run away screaming that you left the iron on and Beyonce's on the phone. Which is fine and understandable and LET ME SHOW YOU MY KID'S ART PROJECT. Noah had to put together a book for President's Day and answer some questions about what he would do when he becomes president. Which is definitely going to happen. Nothing is going to hold this kid back when it comes to fulfilling his dream of Holding A Stick and Having A Hat. NOTHING, I TELL YOU. IT"S THE AMERICAN DREAM. YOU WERE IN THE DREAM TOO, BUT NOT REALLY AS YOURSELF, YOU KNOW? IT WAS WEIRD. I don't know who the man and woman are on the other side of the desk here, or what their speech squiggles represent, but I like to imagine that it's me and Jason, continuing to provide guidance and counsel to our hat-wearing, stick-holding runaway success of a child. I... Read more →