We leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow for a week in Puerto Rico. It will be interesting to see what I have managed to pack between glasses of wine. My heavy drinking was justified by the fact that trying on bathing suits immediately following the holidays...IS JUST WRONG.
I have left seven Rotweillers, Elsie the fat cat, and a Fur Real pony named Butterscotch in charge of the apartment while we're gone.
Happy New Year All!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Feed The World
Here is a really FUN way to feed the world and improve your vocabulary
www.freerice.com
Grains of rice are donated each time you correctly guess the definition of a word.
Rice plus vocabulary....smart really is the new skinny.
www.freerice.com
Grains of rice are donated each time you correctly guess the definition of a word.
Rice plus vocabulary....smart really is the new skinny.
A Very Veasey Christmas
On the way to Nonnee's house, we traditionally pop THE NATIVITY STORY into the DVD player, and call it our version of Sunday School. We have begun this practice ever since the Christmas when DeeDad asked Jesse whose birthday we were celebrating and the child enthusiastically answered; "Mine! Mine!" and we had a Dickens of a time explaining why there were presents but no cake.
This year, as the familiar opening music began to play, Jesse turned to Annie and said "I know how this ends. HE DIES."
Which means Spring is not so far away....
This year, as the familiar opening music began to play, Jesse turned to Annie and said "I know how this ends. HE DIES."
Which means Spring is not so far away....
Monday, December 17, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
Free Floating Angst
I become too busy to blog. Kind of like the way I put excercise off EVERY YEAR until January. As if, magically, in January I WILL HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD FOR THE STAIRMASTER. Blogging for me is a finger excercise--a way to clear the old creative pipes--because my gosh; those witty mugs don't just make themselves, after all.
My friend Natasha has started a website called Creative Nachos www.creativenachos.com and she SHAMES me because she faithfully creates new posts--like a 9 page hiaku, or an in depth inteview with Neitzche--three days a week, like clockwork, and she has a BABY to boot. Kind of makes my cutting and pasting from Santa dot come look a wee bit lame, no?
And so I am reduced to this post: random, free floating thoughts swirling around in my head like the dregs of Pinot Grigio in a glass...AS IF I would ever leave a swallow. Please...you know I lick the bottom.
This is a TRUE STORY. This morning on my way to the dentist, a man walked up beside me making loud duck calls. He was obviously from Planet Wacko; and wore a jaunty cap with three long Quail feathers. But this is not what was unusual. What caught my jaded New Yorker's attention was the fact that a police car parked two blocks ahead at a corner answered each duck call with short toots of its siren. CAW CAW went the duck man. WEE WEE went the police car. CAW CAW went the duck man. WEE WEE went the police car.
My gosh, I really need to write that children's book one of these days.
My friend Natasha has started a website called Creative Nachos www.creativenachos.com and she SHAMES me because she faithfully creates new posts--like a 9 page hiaku, or an in depth inteview with Neitzche--three days a week, like clockwork, and she has a BABY to boot. Kind of makes my cutting and pasting from Santa dot come look a wee bit lame, no?
And so I am reduced to this post: random, free floating thoughts swirling around in my head like the dregs of Pinot Grigio in a glass...AS IF I would ever leave a swallow. Please...you know I lick the bottom.
This is a TRUE STORY. This morning on my way to the dentist, a man walked up beside me making loud duck calls. He was obviously from Planet Wacko; and wore a jaunty cap with three long Quail feathers. But this is not what was unusual. What caught my jaded New Yorker's attention was the fact that a police car parked two blocks ahead at a corner answered each duck call with short toots of its siren. CAW CAW went the duck man. WEE WEE went the police car. CAW CAW went the duck man. WEE WEE went the police car.
My gosh, I really need to write that children's book one of these days.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Is it Hot or is it Just Me?
In One day Al Gore is going to address the UN Climate Change
Conference in Bali, Indonesia. At his urging, (OK-he didn't call me or anything, but just the same...) I've signed an
important petition showing I support his important call for a visionary treaty to address the climate crisis. I hope you will too.
http://climateprotect.org/standwithal
The world's elected leaders must take the steps necessary to solve global warming. It's not too late. We have the opportunity now to improve the Earth's future for our children, and their children.
Please sign the petition today. http://www.climateprotect.org/standwithal
Conference in Bali, Indonesia. At his urging, (OK-he didn't call me or anything, but just the same...) I've signed an
important petition showing I support his important call for a visionary treaty to address the climate crisis. I hope you will too.
http://climateprotect.org/standwithal
The world's elected leaders must take the steps necessary to solve global warming. It's not too late. We have the opportunity now to improve the Earth's future for our children, and their children.
Please sign the petition today. http://www.climateprotect.org/standwithal
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Santa Blogs about His Weight
Santa's Blog
Milk and Cookies
Posted by Santa 1 day ago
Hello Everyone,
Santa here again, with another quick note about another topic that's recently come up: my weight. A couple of well-meaning letter-writers have pointed out that someone of my size and comportment has no business requesting milk and cookies from every household the night of Christmas Eve. They say (more or less tactfully) that I'm too fat.
To which I say: Thank you for your concern. However...
My weight suits me perfectly, for several reasons. First, it is very cold here at the North Pole. Right now, the temperature is (hold on, let me look) minus 4 degrees -- and today is relatively balmy! I invite any of you worried about my weight to live in this climate for a few days, and then talk to me about insulation. Second, related to this, consider the polar bear: I daresay no one would feel it necessary to point out to a polar bear that he or she could lose a few. (Bear Bryan, our reindeer trainer, weighs in at just under 1,000 pounds! He thinks I'm downright skinny.)
Third, my snack request has been a long-standing one that began back in the days when "milk and cookies" meant milk from healthy cows who ate grass and cookies baked with natural, wholesome ingredients -- that is, long before pesticides, BGH, trans fats, additives, and all the other poisons began appearing in our foods. So it's true that too much of that stuff is unhealthy for me. (And you, for that matter.)
So maybe it's time to update my request. This year, for the first time, I'm asking for healthy milk and cookies -- or, better yet, some sort of nutritious snack you think I'd enjoy. (My suggestion is to ask your mom or dad what they like -- parents have a pretty good sense of what adults like to snack on late at night.) Thank you!
Some other things to consider. One, it really isn't polite to point out to people your opinion about whether or not they're the right weight. And two, consider metabolism: different creatures burn food fuel at different rates, and if it works for them, that's all that matters. I myself have a high metabolism, especially on Christmas Eve. One of the elves, Kevin, is famous for eating two or three times his weight at every meal, and Kevin is no bigger than the average elf.
Oops! Speaking of food, gotta run! I'm meeting Mrs. Claus for lunch in the kitchen.
(I know what you're wondering...tomato soup!)
Love,
Santa
More of Santa's blogs at www.santa.com
Milk and Cookies
Posted by Santa 1 day ago
Hello Everyone,
Santa here again, with another quick note about another topic that's recently come up: my weight. A couple of well-meaning letter-writers have pointed out that someone of my size and comportment has no business requesting milk and cookies from every household the night of Christmas Eve. They say (more or less tactfully) that I'm too fat.
To which I say: Thank you for your concern. However...
My weight suits me perfectly, for several reasons. First, it is very cold here at the North Pole. Right now, the temperature is (hold on, let me look) minus 4 degrees -- and today is relatively balmy! I invite any of you worried about my weight to live in this climate for a few days, and then talk to me about insulation. Second, related to this, consider the polar bear: I daresay no one would feel it necessary to point out to a polar bear that he or she could lose a few. (Bear Bryan, our reindeer trainer, weighs in at just under 1,000 pounds! He thinks I'm downright skinny.)
Third, my snack request has been a long-standing one that began back in the days when "milk and cookies" meant milk from healthy cows who ate grass and cookies baked with natural, wholesome ingredients -- that is, long before pesticides, BGH, trans fats, additives, and all the other poisons began appearing in our foods. So it's true that too much of that stuff is unhealthy for me. (And you, for that matter.)
So maybe it's time to update my request. This year, for the first time, I'm asking for healthy milk and cookies -- or, better yet, some sort of nutritious snack you think I'd enjoy. (My suggestion is to ask your mom or dad what they like -- parents have a pretty good sense of what adults like to snack on late at night.) Thank you!
Some other things to consider. One, it really isn't polite to point out to people your opinion about whether or not they're the right weight. And two, consider metabolism: different creatures burn food fuel at different rates, and if it works for them, that's all that matters. I myself have a high metabolism, especially on Christmas Eve. One of the elves, Kevin, is famous for eating two or three times his weight at every meal, and Kevin is no bigger than the average elf.
Oops! Speaking of food, gotta run! I'm meeting Mrs. Claus for lunch in the kitchen.
(I know what you're wondering...tomato soup!)
Love,
Santa
More of Santa's blogs at www.santa.com
Friday, December 07, 2007
Why People Should Help out With the PTA Bakesale
The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shadows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight. They seem to become natives of that element, the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half-submerged balls.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward, who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge in the task, who go into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along, who stand in the line and haul in their places, who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. But the thing worth doing, well done, has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn are put in museums, but you know they were made to be used. The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward, who do what has to be done, again and again.
I want to be with people who submerge in the task, who go into the fields to harvest and work in a row and pass the bags along, who stand in the line and haul in their places, who are not parlor generals and field deserters but move in a common rhythm when the food must come in or the fire be put out.
The work of the world is common as mud. Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust. But the thing worth doing, well done, has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil, Hopi vases that held corn are put in museums, but you know they were made to be used. The pitcher cries for water to carry and a person for work that is real.
Friday, November 30, 2007
MUD on your TV
Hello MUD fans:
Watch for us on episode 209 of AMERICAN SHOPPER tomorrow at 10 am EST. Well, actually, it will be one of our mugs--not our faces. I'm still holding out for that Pottery Talk Show, though.
We know you love that Fine Living channel!
Watch for us on episode 209 of AMERICAN SHOPPER tomorrow at 10 am EST. Well, actually, it will be one of our mugs--not our faces. I'm still holding out for that Pottery Talk Show, though.
We know you love that Fine Living channel!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Things to Be THANKFUL For
Happy Thanksgiving Day everyone! In no particular order, some of the things I am thankful for this holiday include:
1. The fact that they made a MOVIE from the book THE SECRET. Because if I had to READ it instead of watch it, I might have thought something like; 'this is uber boring metaphysical crap" and then BOOM I would have Created My Own Reality and the book would have sucked. Since it was a movie, I was able to get the gist of it, PLUS I had a short nap. Life Is Good. I am Practicing Gratitude. Bring on the Abundance, baby.
2. My son made it through his third surgery in three months and while it looked a bit iffy there for awhile: NO ONE VOMITED. We also discovered that the quickest way to get discharged from post op is to have a six year old throw a big Hissy Fit and claim he is DYING IN AGONY. Poof! Here is your paperwork and wheelchair, good bye. Apparently it is upsetting to the 15 other people in the recovery room..go figure.
3. We are off to Thanksgiving at my Brother In Law's house tomorrow. Or maybe not. Annie has a fever and a cough that just won't quit. I am Thankful for Zicam which promises to reduce the duration of a cold, and I am using The Secret to ensure that it works. I have the Vicks vaporizer going, I filled her with Tylenol cough and cold even though she is four and now you are not suppossed to do that, and I covered her chest in eucalyptus cream. WHERE DID I PUT THOSE DAMN LEECHES?
4. Elastic waist bands.
5. Brownie Mix. Because if we are able to go to Thanksgiving Dinner tomorrow, I will be lucky if I have any of these moist chocolate squares to arrive with. Perhaps we can stop at the deli and throw together a twinkie platter.
6. Elastic waist bands. Worth mentioning again.
7. A Customer by the name of Christine who wrote: "I must say it is truly an honor to hear from you. I admire your work and talents so much. This is like talking to a major celebrity! How amazing!" NO I AM NOT KIDDING SHE REALLY WROTE THAT. Bringing blog readership to an all time high of FIVE READERS.
8. Did you catch where she wrote "major celebrity?"
9. The fact that I have some friends who were given a wii system as a present, but they are totally AGAINST video games..they believe video games are THE DEVIL. So that when we hit Target a few days ago after Jesse made it known this was his biggest Christmas wish, and found out that they are sold out EVERYWHERE IN THE WORLD, I did not panic. I traded a gift certificate with my friends for the wii--they will most likely purchase sporting equipment for their kids, some books, science kits....it's pretty clear that we came out On Top. So now the box is sitting in my office, speaking in tongues and flicking that forked tail. I'm hoping to lose 25 lbs by next month playing wii tennis.
10. My Family & Friends. I am so blessed in so many ways. I love you all, and I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
1. The fact that they made a MOVIE from the book THE SECRET. Because if I had to READ it instead of watch it, I might have thought something like; 'this is uber boring metaphysical crap" and then BOOM I would have Created My Own Reality and the book would have sucked. Since it was a movie, I was able to get the gist of it, PLUS I had a short nap. Life Is Good. I am Practicing Gratitude. Bring on the Abundance, baby.
2. My son made it through his third surgery in three months and while it looked a bit iffy there for awhile: NO ONE VOMITED. We also discovered that the quickest way to get discharged from post op is to have a six year old throw a big Hissy Fit and claim he is DYING IN AGONY. Poof! Here is your paperwork and wheelchair, good bye. Apparently it is upsetting to the 15 other people in the recovery room..go figure.
3. We are off to Thanksgiving at my Brother In Law's house tomorrow. Or maybe not. Annie has a fever and a cough that just won't quit. I am Thankful for Zicam which promises to reduce the duration of a cold, and I am using The Secret to ensure that it works. I have the Vicks vaporizer going, I filled her with Tylenol cough and cold even though she is four and now you are not suppossed to do that, and I covered her chest in eucalyptus cream. WHERE DID I PUT THOSE DAMN LEECHES?
4. Elastic waist bands.
5. Brownie Mix. Because if we are able to go to Thanksgiving Dinner tomorrow, I will be lucky if I have any of these moist chocolate squares to arrive with. Perhaps we can stop at the deli and throw together a twinkie platter.
6. Elastic waist bands. Worth mentioning again.
7. A Customer by the name of Christine who wrote: "I must say it is truly an honor to hear from you. I admire your work and talents so much. This is like talking to a major celebrity! How amazing!" NO I AM NOT KIDDING SHE REALLY WROTE THAT. Bringing blog readership to an all time high of FIVE READERS.
8. Did you catch where she wrote "major celebrity?"
9. The fact that I have some friends who were given a wii system as a present, but they are totally AGAINST video games..they believe video games are THE DEVIL. So that when we hit Target a few days ago after Jesse made it known this was his biggest Christmas wish, and found out that they are sold out EVERYWHERE IN THE WORLD, I did not panic. I traded a gift certificate with my friends for the wii--they will most likely purchase sporting equipment for their kids, some books, science kits....it's pretty clear that we came out On Top. So now the box is sitting in my office, speaking in tongues and flicking that forked tail. I'm hoping to lose 25 lbs by next month playing wii tennis.
10. My Family & Friends. I am so blessed in so many ways. I love you all, and I'm not just saying that because I'm drunk.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Looming Clouds on the Horizon
This week has been eventful. On Monday, we found out that Jesse has to have ANOTHER SURGERY on his elbow. The fact that he could not turn his arm over should have been a bit of a giveaway, but I kept thinking: MAYBE THAT WILL JUST GO AWAY. It's the same kind of magical- but irrational- thinking that has compelled me keep my skinny jeans for years.
Jesse handled this news much better than I did. Initial conversations with the orthopedist, somewhat paraphrased:
ME: But he CAN'T have another surgery.
DR: Just what is it that you are so worried about Mrs. Veasey?
ME: This is his THIRD surgery in three months.
DR: I understand that, but what is it that you are worried about...specifically?
ME: His THIRD. That is Lifetime Movie kind of excessive amount of surgery.
(pause)
ME: And really, what if we just don't do it? What would be so bad about that?
DR: Ummmm...I don't know... HOW ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO MOVE HIS ARM?
I can't really explain how much I dread the operation on Monday. Here are some of my fears large and small:
1. He will ask for water the morning of the operation and I will have to say NO. And since I have a hard time saying that word to things like "Can I play with the sharp knives" and "Can we stay up til 11 pm watching SpongeBob and eating gummy bears in your bed" I dread telling my baby that if he is thirsty he will need to suck it up.
2. We will wait for hours before the surgery in a curtained room with a single chair, surrounded by other people waiting for surgery who do not close the back of their gowns when they traipse through the place. Seriously: you will never see as many naked butts as in pre-op.
3. The moment before I put the suit on to accompany Jesse to the operating room when I think O My Gawd this is NOT going to fit over my butt and all these people are watching me put it on.
4. The moment when they place the mask over his tiny face and his eyes flutter closed and it reminds me of what he looked like the very first time they placed him in my arms and why is it is so easy to be overwhelmed by the amount of love you feel for your child WHEN THEY ARE ASLEEP?
5. The WAIT.
6. The Recovery. Jesse's first words after the last surgery were: WHY DID YOU LET ME BREAK MY ARM MOMMY. And if I had not been fighting so hard to hold back tears, I might have told him it was his Dad's fault anyway. This year I'm packing a big red arrow and a sign that says "MOMMY is the one who always says NO to running, climbing, race car driving and risk taking of any sort."
7. The vomiting. Where, by the way, Kip is incredibly redeemed, appreciated, and loved, and I take back all of paragraph six.
8. The pain. And the way I channel Shirley McClane and think IF THAT NURSE DOESN'T GET OVER HERE WITH THAT MORPHINE IN THE NEXT MINUTE I AM GOING TO KICK HER ASS.
9. The vomiting and the pain. The hope that Power Rangers Dino Thunder will distract.
10. The recovery. No swimming, no running, no jumping, no rough housing...just the way I said I liked it. And yet, when he is lying all pale faced on the couch, I would give anything if he could be out running in sunshine.
We are blessed to have such great family and friends. And we are grateful when we can find the humor in a situation like this, knowing that there are many families who everyday deal with situations that are not as easily fixed as a broken elbow. All Will Be Well.
Jesse handled this news much better than I did. Initial conversations with the orthopedist, somewhat paraphrased:
ME: But he CAN'T have another surgery.
DR: Just what is it that you are so worried about Mrs. Veasey?
ME: This is his THIRD surgery in three months.
DR: I understand that, but what is it that you are worried about...specifically?
ME: His THIRD. That is Lifetime Movie kind of excessive amount of surgery.
(pause)
ME: And really, what if we just don't do it? What would be so bad about that?
DR: Ummmm...I don't know... HOW ABOUT THE FACT THAT HE WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO MOVE HIS ARM?
I can't really explain how much I dread the operation on Monday. Here are some of my fears large and small:
1. He will ask for water the morning of the operation and I will have to say NO. And since I have a hard time saying that word to things like "Can I play with the sharp knives" and "Can we stay up til 11 pm watching SpongeBob and eating gummy bears in your bed" I dread telling my baby that if he is thirsty he will need to suck it up.
2. We will wait for hours before the surgery in a curtained room with a single chair, surrounded by other people waiting for surgery who do not close the back of their gowns when they traipse through the place. Seriously: you will never see as many naked butts as in pre-op.
3. The moment before I put the suit on to accompany Jesse to the operating room when I think O My Gawd this is NOT going to fit over my butt and all these people are watching me put it on.
4. The moment when they place the mask over his tiny face and his eyes flutter closed and it reminds me of what he looked like the very first time they placed him in my arms and why is it is so easy to be overwhelmed by the amount of love you feel for your child WHEN THEY ARE ASLEEP?
5. The WAIT.
6. The Recovery. Jesse's first words after the last surgery were: WHY DID YOU LET ME BREAK MY ARM MOMMY. And if I had not been fighting so hard to hold back tears, I might have told him it was his Dad's fault anyway. This year I'm packing a big red arrow and a sign that says "MOMMY is the one who always says NO to running, climbing, race car driving and risk taking of any sort."
7. The vomiting. Where, by the way, Kip is incredibly redeemed, appreciated, and loved, and I take back all of paragraph six.
8. The pain. And the way I channel Shirley McClane and think IF THAT NURSE DOESN'T GET OVER HERE WITH THAT MORPHINE IN THE NEXT MINUTE I AM GOING TO KICK HER ASS.
9. The vomiting and the pain. The hope that Power Rangers Dino Thunder will distract.
10. The recovery. No swimming, no running, no jumping, no rough housing...just the way I said I liked it. And yet, when he is lying all pale faced on the couch, I would give anything if he could be out running in sunshine.
We are blessed to have such great family and friends. And we are grateful when we can find the humor in a situation like this, knowing that there are many families who everyday deal with situations that are not as easily fixed as a broken elbow. All Will Be Well.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Pretty Bird Woman
If I were a bird I most surely would be a duck. It's the waddle, and the fact that my feet are so wide. I mean REALLY WIDE. When I take my shoes off most people assume I've slipped into some comfortable swim fins.
I just recently acknowledged the fact that I can't fit into shoes made for normal people. I purchased some very expensive, but properly fitting footwear and for the first time MY FEET DON'T HURT ALL DAY and By Gawd, tell the Whos in Whoville that Christmas is coming early!
I gathered up all the toe pinchers in my closet and found a great organization to send them to: www.soles4souls.com And it tickles me pink to know that my gently worn patent leather ballet flats are going to make this world a better place. So if you have some shoes laying around that you are wondering what to do with--send them to these guys.
And speaking of birds, I was also sent a link to a sobering story about a woman's shelter on the Standing Rock Reservation that is in need of help. Pretty Bird Woman House was named after a woman who was the victim of domestic violence. The story of this organization's struggle is very compelling--and if everyone sends just a few dollars it will make a big impact:
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2007/11/9/1544/57273. Thanks in advance to those of you who will take the time to read this story and to help.
Had I been born Native American, I am sure my name would have been Big Butt Duck Feet.
I just recently acknowledged the fact that I can't fit into shoes made for normal people. I purchased some very expensive, but properly fitting footwear and for the first time MY FEET DON'T HURT ALL DAY and By Gawd, tell the Whos in Whoville that Christmas is coming early!
I gathered up all the toe pinchers in my closet and found a great organization to send them to: www.soles4souls.com And it tickles me pink to know that my gently worn patent leather ballet flats are going to make this world a better place. So if you have some shoes laying around that you are wondering what to do with--send them to these guys.
And speaking of birds, I was also sent a link to a sobering story about a woman's shelter on the Standing Rock Reservation that is in need of help. Pretty Bird Woman House was named after a woman who was the victim of domestic violence. The story of this organization's struggle is very compelling--and if everyone sends just a few dollars it will make a big impact:
http://www.dailykos.com/story/2007/11/9/1544/57273. Thanks in advance to those of you who will take the time to read this story and to help.
Had I been born Native American, I am sure my name would have been Big Butt Duck Feet.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Friday, November 02, 2007
Finally! A Halloween Picture!
I have been trying to figure out how to get a picture from my iphone onto blogger for two days now. Apple needed to make the idiot version for me: the iiphone.
Ayhow: here are the kids in costume for Halloween. Annie started the day as a Pink Power Ranger. In a class of 12 little girls, she was the only one not dressed as a Princess. At lunch "Ariel" told her that she could not sit with the girls because of her costume. I would like to say that my daughter stood her ground, called upon the feminist ideology I have been crooning to her since birth, and went all Pink Power Ranger on "Ariel's" ass. Sadly, that was not to be--here is Annie as Snow White... who as you know cleans a mean house.
Jesse made approximately 15 costume changes this year, down from 27 from last year. His final choice--made conveniently at 7 PM the night before Halloween, was to be this werewolf--which I sewed myself. Thank Goodness I live in New York City. I don't know what suburban moms do when they need a yard of fake fur at that hour of the night.
And now begins the torture of lying in bed and knowing there is an Almond Joy in a plastic pumpkin in my kitchen.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Zoo Mail
Dear Wildlife Conservation Society,
I took my two children to the Bronx Zoo yesterday. One of the highlights of our trip (besides THE GIFT SHOP which is a highlight of any trip we take... thanks for having several of them strategically placed near the restrooms) was seeing the gorillas. But I don't just mean the fascinating family of primates you have living behind glass walls in their faux Congo setting.
We stumbled upon the Gorilla movie area--which allowed us a chance to sit down and warm up and watch a documentary about this species. This movie provided us with my children's favorite zoo experience...
"You can learn a lot from scat." says the khaki clad conservationist, happily discovering the steaming pile of excerement. The camera lingers lovingly on a tight close up, while she pulls out a pencil and begins to pick through the pile, exclaiming with each seed and berry how wonderfully "circle of life" it is. From the corner of my eye I am watching both my children watch this scene with eyes as big as saucers; they don't care if the seeds that pass through the gorilla grow new trees--they are wondering what she's gonna do with that pencil when she's done, and MOM DID YOU SEE THAT SHE TOUCHED GORILLA POOP.
And of course, now both of them want to grow up and volunteer on a preserve somewhere.
Please help save our planet. Visit http://www.wcs.org/getinvolved/takeaction
I took my two children to the Bronx Zoo yesterday. One of the highlights of our trip (besides THE GIFT SHOP which is a highlight of any trip we take... thanks for having several of them strategically placed near the restrooms) was seeing the gorillas. But I don't just mean the fascinating family of primates you have living behind glass walls in their faux Congo setting.
We stumbled upon the Gorilla movie area--which allowed us a chance to sit down and warm up and watch a documentary about this species. This movie provided us with my children's favorite zoo experience...
"You can learn a lot from scat." says the khaki clad conservationist, happily discovering the steaming pile of excerement. The camera lingers lovingly on a tight close up, while she pulls out a pencil and begins to pick through the pile, exclaiming with each seed and berry how wonderfully "circle of life" it is. From the corner of my eye I am watching both my children watch this scene with eyes as big as saucers; they don't care if the seeds that pass through the gorilla grow new trees--they are wondering what she's gonna do with that pencil when she's done, and MOM DID YOU SEE THAT SHE TOUCHED GORILLA POOP.
And of course, now both of them want to grow up and volunteer on a preserve somewhere.
Please help save our planet. Visit http://www.wcs.org/getinvolved/takeaction
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Shoe Incident
Recently we discovered that Annie's seafoam colored crocs--quite possibly the ugliest shoes on the face of the planet--had been attacked by a pair of rubber handled safety scissors during nap time in Pre Kindergarten. The perpetrator who wielded the scissors had cut across from each gem hole to each gem hole--a Connect-the-Dots of vandalism. Who did it? "Fabian." The same boy who had terrorized Annie at recess by chasing her across the blacktop threatening to kiss her on the lips.
Blog flashback: I once had a favorite dress when I was Annie's age. It was a soft beige corduroy with a Siamese Cat Pattern. One day I wore it to school and Kenny Farnsworth took a yellow magic marker and drew streams of pee coming from each of the cats. It was a bad day, *shudder, * and I often wonder if Kenny ended up in juvie, or as a contestant on Project Runway. He seemed the type that would get a tattoo across his neck. But I digress.
As luck would have it, I ran into Fabian's Mom at a school event shortly after the croc incident. She introduced herself, I shook her hand.
ME: "I'm Annie's Mom. You know Annie-the shoeless urchin." (OK- I did not actually say the words "shoeless urchin." I said something to the effect of: "I'm Annie's Mom blappitty blappity blah--Your Kid cut My Kids shoes.")
FABIAN'S MOM: I Know. I Got The Letter From The Teacher.
(LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE. We stand looking at each other. It takes my brain about 2 full minutes to realize that that is ALL she is going to say about it.)
ME: Well, okay then.
FABIAN'S MOM: I asked him about it and he said he did it because your daughter told him to. He said that she forced him to do it.
(ANOTHER LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE.)
ME: Well-ok--I'm SORRY about that.
Meanwhile my brain is going 60 mph: could this be true? Is it possible that my daughter enlisted the help of this hapless boy in order to obtain her desired goal: NEW SHOES? No, no--that would be manipulative and underhanded--something my son would most definitely do, but not Annie. And while my brain is chewing this over, Fabian's mother walks away. And then I realize that she is Brilliant--because she managed to make ME apologize. When what I really should have said was: "That's a Crock."
Rimshot.
So then I went home and told Annie that if Fabian ever bothered her again, she should tell her father to handle it.
Blog flashback: I once had a favorite dress when I was Annie's age. It was a soft beige corduroy with a Siamese Cat Pattern. One day I wore it to school and Kenny Farnsworth took a yellow magic marker and drew streams of pee coming from each of the cats. It was a bad day, *shudder, * and I often wonder if Kenny ended up in juvie, or as a contestant on Project Runway. He seemed the type that would get a tattoo across his neck. But I digress.
As luck would have it, I ran into Fabian's Mom at a school event shortly after the croc incident. She introduced herself, I shook her hand.
ME: "I'm Annie's Mom. You know Annie-the shoeless urchin." (OK- I did not actually say the words "shoeless urchin." I said something to the effect of: "I'm Annie's Mom blappitty blappity blah--Your Kid cut My Kids shoes.")
FABIAN'S MOM: I Know. I Got The Letter From The Teacher.
(LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE. We stand looking at each other. It takes my brain about 2 full minutes to realize that that is ALL she is going to say about it.)
ME: Well, okay then.
FABIAN'S MOM: I asked him about it and he said he did it because your daughter told him to. He said that she forced him to do it.
(ANOTHER LONG UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE.)
ME: Well-ok--I'm SORRY about that.
Meanwhile my brain is going 60 mph: could this be true? Is it possible that my daughter enlisted the help of this hapless boy in order to obtain her desired goal: NEW SHOES? No, no--that would be manipulative and underhanded--something my son would most definitely do, but not Annie. And while my brain is chewing this over, Fabian's mother walks away. And then I realize that she is Brilliant--because she managed to make ME apologize. When what I really should have said was: "That's a Crock."
Rimshot.
So then I went home and told Annie that if Fabian ever bothered her again, she should tell her father to handle it.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
JESSe-ism
Driving in the car- Annie, Jesse, and Jesse's friend Zack.
Me: Why so glum Jess?
Jesse (sulking): You didn't laugh at MY joke but you laughed at Annie's joke and you laughed at Zack's joke. You Don't Like Me.
Me:(Whipping around in seat) Are you kidding me? I love you! I love you and Annie and Daddy more than ANYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD! YOU ARE MY LIFE! I ADORE YOU ALL! I COULD NOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU!
Jesse (Turning to his friend): You DID NOT just hear that.
Me: Why so glum Jess?
Jesse (sulking): You didn't laugh at MY joke but you laughed at Annie's joke and you laughed at Zack's joke. You Don't Like Me.
Me:(Whipping around in seat) Are you kidding me? I love you! I love you and Annie and Daddy more than ANYTHING IN THE WHOLE WORLD! YOU ARE MY LIFE! I ADORE YOU ALL! I COULD NOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU!
Jesse (Turning to his friend): You DID NOT just hear that.
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