The beginning of the end (for the patio furniture.) The Snowpocalypse is very real, people. So is the seemingly improbable “Thunder Show.” (Two men enter, one man leaves. That man is very likely my husband, shoveling out the neighbors’ walks and making snow angels.) We got pummeled. And there’s nothing quite like seeing Mother Nature make your one-way street a hilly snow tundra (complete with a light show to rival Pink Floyd’s) to make you thankful for heated ceramic tile {Read More}
We Won’t Go Until We Get Some.
December 13, 2010 By 5 Comments
I am not remotely done with the Christmas songs. Whilst in the car the other day, Nora and I heard the cheerful lyrics of We Wish You A Merry Christmas. This is one of those songs that, for me, is so completely ingrained in my mind and memory of Christmas that I have fully stopped noticing the words. Until the car ride. Can you imagine if actual carolers came to your door one night? (This sort of merriment may occur in {Read More}
December 6th…that day sounds familiar…
December 6, 2010 By 4 Comments
Happy Feast of Saint Nicholas! Just what I asked for! Here is how we celebrated this morning: -One of us filled a miniature boot and two normal-sized boots with candy, advent calendars and a rubber reindeer duck.-One of us peed through one of our jammies/bedding/lovies/sleepsack.-One of us spilled coffee on ourselves whilst trying to eat a Snickers bar shaped like a Nutcracker. I’ll leave it as anonymously as that. Okay, so now it’s fully and terrifically the Christmas season. We’ve got {Read More}
<—Not Brave.
November 8, 2010 By 4 Comments
Nora is covered in band-aids. Five of them, to be exact. On her bruised, teensy tiny upper arms. I have one band-aid. But I care not for my own pain- for it is my penance. Oh, sure, Nora was thrilled to see the doctor and her nurse pals this a.m. What’s not to like? Cool artwork (for her, anyway- she’s not too discerning yet), tons of stuff to poke and touch, people telling her how big and strong and pretty she is… {Read More}
Insulation Cancellation…*
September 30, 2010 By 3 Comments
Overshot the Peekaboo. …and My Kid Is Terrific (Parts 1 and 77, respectively.) *Thanks, Dorrie. Yesterday, we were going to have a guy come and fix our crawlspaces. They are seriously hurting. Four attic-like rooms off of the upstairs bedrooms- two the size of [really awful] bedrooms themselves- and all with upside down insulation…if at all. (There are, however, crazy amounts of notebooks, beer bottle caps and at least one high school prom mug. Good Counsel, Class of ’83, if anyone’s {Read More}
Odd Hygiene and Noisy Celebrations.
September 16, 2010 By 2 Comments
I’ve been noticing a marked difference in my Nanny With Nora versus Nora At Home routines. There are just certain things that I can do In House that wouldn’t fly whilst on the clock. For instance, I attempted to shower while Nora played on the bathroom floor with squeezie toys and bath books- in my own bathroom. (General rule of thumb: Keep your clothes on/don’t bathe in the workplace. This is just something I’ve always tried to live by.) Believe {Read More}
Brefft.
August 30, 2010 By 2 Comments
That’s like ‘bereft,’ but with less syllables and more f’s. Which makes it more powerful, obviously. Also- the iPhone and I are having words about things that are not actually words. (“Beets? Beef?” “No- brefft.” “But that’s not real!” “I know.” “IT HAS TO BE A REAL WORD.”) Anyway, back to brefft. ‘Cause I am. Last night, in the swelty Chicago heat, as I showered off the near 12 hours of planes, trains and automobiles- and then stepped into a {Read More}
But who’s gonna meter my rage?
August 12, 2010 By 1 Comment
Today’s post is a failed attempt at guest-blogging for a bigger site. So I’m using it here- ’cause I LIKE it, even if it met none of the previously-non-mentioned-but-yeah-it-kinda-makes-sense criteria. It’s just as well- I’m horrid at following directions (baking, unplugging my laptop during a storm, that whole waiting after eating to swim…) I wrote it about a month ago. Ah, how simple things were back then. They were different times. {Read More}
