Damn you, NPR

I listen to a lot of NPR these days. Part of this is because the local radio stations in Texas seem to want to lynch all the Democrats and Obama himself. It's not like there is a legitimate debate here, but people screaming at me through the radio about how evil Obamacare is, how he's not a citizen, etc. etc. So I listen to NPR.

A few weeks ago, I heard a review of a book, "As Meat Loves Salt."

I remember when I first idly opened this book over my morning coffee. I had other plans for that day, yet after about 10 pages, I put those plans aside. Indulging myself, I curled into the living room armchair and galloped on as the sun rose high. I don't, alas, often say this of any novel as an adult, but I could not put it down.

High praise, right? So I checked it out of the library. I went so far as to ask for an inter library loan (which is friggin awesome. Seriously. Any book in the country except new bestsellers is available for this inter library loan. If I work this right, I may never have to buy a book again).

So I read it and it's terrible. Well, I'm sure it's got artistic merit, maybe even be a classic, like Faulkner. But by golly, it was dark, sad, depressing, violent and, unbelievably, erotic, if you consider gay rape erotic, that is.

In a change of subject, my sister survived her knee surgery and is recovering slowly and painfully, but recovering. My mother returned to Dallas with my Uncle Bobby who is also recovering from his stroke slowly, but at least he's here where we (well, my mom) can look after him and his care properly.

Also on the health front, Andy and I are recovering from the stomach flu. Fingers crossed we are better by tomorrow as the party circuit starts tomorrow night and goes through Christmas. I. Can't. Wait. I hope to start feeling better so we can properly enjoy the merriment of the holidays in our new hometown.

Latest celebrity crush

Despite my obviously charmed marriage, I have lots of crushes, usually on random celebrity types, i.e. people I will never, ever meet so therefore totally safe. Most are quite typical -- think Pacey Witter from Dawson's Creek, Andy Botwin from Weeds  or Josh from Sports Night (yes, I do watch too much television). Others make my coworkers shiver, like Benjamin Linus from Lost (what? Sure he's not handsome, but he's devious and snarky) or Stephen Collins (think Jumpin' Jack Flash Stephen Collins, not 7th Heaven Stephen Collins. Yeah, I know....)

I'm now at a bizarro phase in my life where I have a crush on a children's book author. Worse, it's not at all because he's cute, but because his books are so darn awesome. There are billions of children's books out there, and most of them are total crap (I'm looking at you Dora). But Mo Willems? No, his books are awesome? I don't love the Elephant and Piggy series so much, but Knuffle Buffle and the Pigeon? Seriously great. Any kids' book that can make me laugh while keeping my kids interested in just great.

New school!

Andy started his new school at the George Mason preschool on Tuesday. So far, so good. I gave myself lots of time for a lengthy drop-off. I chatted with his teacher, who has a son who graduated with Mark. I talked to the administration people about his paperwork. I generally lingered. And after about a minute, he asked if he could play and didn't look back. His only complaint was that he wanted his big neon green microfiber plush blanket to have for nap time. I would let him have it, but it was on sale at Target sometime last spring for like $7.99 and it's at least a queen size. The thing would take up his whole cubbie even though his new one is twice the size of his old one.

As a reward though, I went to Target and got him a twin sized version of it. Sadly, it's in season and I paid like $25. Worth it, though. The only thing strange for me so far is it's more of preschool in that he's supposed to bring his own snacks for snack time as well as a list of school supplies. I certainly don't mind spending $20 on the supplies and snacks I just didn't realize it on the first day so he had to get a snack from the kitchen.

The only things bad for me were it really is about 7 minutes further away. Not bad, but in rush hour that can be significant. I also haven't really worked out my new routes yet.

It also sucks that after last week's sunburn debacle, I sent him off with a peeling face and back. Nothing like admitting in the beginning that I'm a shitty parent that, gasp, let my kid get sunburned. I can hear the judgements from the other parents already, "I would never let that happen to Susie." I don't care so much that I am not the perfect parent as much that I mind that they know already. Fortunately, a friend e-mailed me to say she had gotten her dates mixed up and he daughter started kindergarten a day late. It's nice to know we're all human.

I don't have any pictures to post of his big day. I thought about it and then didn't want to make it any more dramatic than usual fearing waterworks and whining. It's especially a bummer since I'm seeing all the adorable pictures my friends are posting from the first day of school and I WANT SOME (just like the Pigeon who wants to drive the bus, which Meg has made us read 200 times in the past week). I may have to stage some pictures. You won't tell, right?

This and that

Apparently my kids don't understand the concept that "fall back" daylight savings is the good one where you get to sleep an extra hour. Instead, they seem to believe they can stay up later and wake up earlier. Good times. So in lieu of a decent post, here are the highlights:

• Meg can crawl. No, not fast. Yet. But she gets up on her knees and actually ooches forward.
• Meg doesn't seem to answer to Meg, or even Baby Meg, but her head turns for Margaret.
• Andy is obsessed with a book we found on the shelves about Professor Poopypants. It's a chapter book in the Captain Underpants series. In Googling it for this post, I found the Professor Poopypants Name Changer. My name is Flunky Toiletsniffer. You're welcome.
• Bjorn has been working hard on this election for Obama. He was up until 3ish last night walking a route and putting "Vote" doorhangers throughout Fairfax. The cooler thing is he took a 17-year-old neighbor and her boyfriend to get a route, too. (When I typed that, it somehow seemed sketchy taking a teenager and her friend out at midnight, but it really isn't. Promise.)
• I got a job working the polls today at my local elementary school. It's a non-partisan job. I get to stand outside the school and hand out sample ballots. Then after the polls close at 7, I get to help as they add up all the numbers. I'm actually pretty excited about it. I hope it's not totally lame.

The deathy hallows

I've been really busy this week - reading the 7th Harry Potter book "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." Not to worry, no spoilers here. Overall, I liked it. It had a surprising and satisfying ending. My only complaint was that it was really long. There were probably 200-300 pages in the middle that probably could have been cut in half and still told the same story.

Funny, I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get a copy, but I just walked into Borders last week and bought one on sale for 40 percent off (still $20 for a hardback, but better than $34). They seemed to have hundreds of copies. By next week, they'll probably be selling them for $10.

The good news is that I'm done with it now so I don't have to worry that someone will accidentally tell me the ending. The only problem is now that I'm done, I need to find another good book. The history of Texas book I've been reading is good, but it's hardly the same kind of page turner.

Oh no, part deux

Sadly, The Goodnight Train suffered an injury to the hands of my two-year-old yesterday. After waking up from his nap, Andy decided to rip the last page out of the book. The page didn't have any words on it and just had the tag from the Fairfax County Library on it so I could see his point that it was boring, but still. Ripping books is bad. Plus, now I have to go to the already standoffish librarians and fess up to our crime. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a long line of incidents where I/we have to confess to breaking or stealing something. Yay. More stuff to look forward to!

On the flip side, Andy was a darling this evening. Well, after his first time out that is. He kept standing on the dining room chair and after I warned him once and he did it again, I calmly picked him up and put him on the stoop of the stairs for his first official time out. I did was my sister suggested, I told him what he did wrong and put the kitchen timer on two minutes. He sat sadly and whimpered a bit toward the end (funny how looong two minutes can be sometimes - it's the same in indoor soccer at the end of a half when you're desperately holding on to a lead). Afterwards, I had him tell me he was sorry for standing on the chair and the rest of the evening, he was a perfect darling. I like to think it was due to our excellent parenting, but I have a feeling that's a little far fetched.

Tomorrow we're off to Annapolis for the baptism of a friend's daughter. I was honored to be named godparent (we had training today, which sounds ridiculous, but was actually kind of nice). Andy is excited to go see more singing. Seriously.

Oh no!

A favorite phrase in our house for months and months has been, "Oh no!" Andy says it with such enthusiasm and inflection that it really makes you take notice, even if what he's excited about is the fact that it's raining outside, that Miles has jumped on the table or that it's dark outside. Now he's gone one step further and says, "Oh no. What happened?" What's great is the way he drags out the what happened part, really emphasizing every syllable. It's so great I just want to gobble him up. Well, when he's not throwing a fit because of something or nothing. Because he's been doing a lot of that, too.


There is also a new favorite book this week, The Goodnight Train by June Sobel and Laura Huliska-Beith. Like most kids' books, the plot is rather lacking, but he sure loves the pictures and we have fun pointing to the different parts of the train and the kids sleeping in the cars. He loves the book so much that he's insisted on sleeping with it the past few nights and I find him in the morning reading it. I checked it out of the library, but if this keeps up, I might have to get a permanent copy for his library.


Andy is also starting to show signs of outgrowing his crib. He hasn't climbed out - yet - but it's clear the way he throws his leg over the side that it's just a matter of hours at this point. We have a busy weekend ahead, but I'm hopeful we get some time to switch his room with the computer room where we already have a twin bed. I don't want to get rid of the crib just yet, but I think having both options for a bit will work just fine.

Let's just call it Mulva

The good thing about my playgroup is we're never short on interesting conversation. Witness last Friday when the discussion came up about teaching kids the names of their private parts. One woman doesn't want to teach her daughter "vagina" since it's really her "vulva" and she doesn't want to teach her the wrong thing. Someone else offered, "What about teaching her to call it 'labia' instead?" Being a good Protestant, I offered calling it "private parts" and leaving it at that. There was no consensus on the right answer. I also suggested "Mulva" in honor of the famous Seinfield episode where Jerry can't remember his girlfriend's name except that it rhymes with a part of the female anatomy (her name, turns out, was Dolores).

I was thinking mothers of boys have it easier, you've just got "penis" and "testicles" to worry about and they're all on the outside making it relatively easy to identify. Then I remembered all the controversy over the Caldecott winning book that has caused an uproar by writing "scrotum" on the first page. Sigh. It's funny, the first few months/years of parenthood are all about the physical aspects of survival - getting enough sleep (you and baby) and getting enough to eat. I'm realizing now that those are really black and white issues (baby is hungry, feed it), but as kids get older, there are more and more gray issues, like when and how to discipline, what religion (if any) to raise the child and how to describe their boy and girl parts.

Book report

Lately, I've been reading a lot of books in addition to the trashy magazines like People that I also like to read. The one I just finished - The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time - is one of the most engrossing I've picked up in ages. I started it Friday and had to finish it tonight it was so good. Fortunately, it was a fairly quick read narrated by a 15-year-old autistic boy in England. In some ways, it felt very much like The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole Aged 13 3/4 with the talk of A levels and him not understanding the terrible things going on with his parents and such. The main difference being Adrian is funny because he doesn't get it and Christopher isn't funny for not getting it. Still, a really great read.

What I found so striking was how difficult it was for the parents to understand what's going on in Christopher's mind when in some ways it seems to logical. I was also struck by how hard it would be for the parents to not be able to hug or even hold hands with him because he can't stand it. There were also some good twists and turns in this one that I totally didn't see coming, making it all the more riveting.

After I finished it tonight, I did make a point to go into Andy's room and rub his head, feeling grateful that he lets me. I was actually lamenting to myself just today that he doesn't let me hold him the way he used to so tonight I was just glad for the good thing I've got.

Best Week Ever ... sort of

It's been a week of changes around here and I, for one, am exhausted. We said goodbye to our babysitter on Wednesday. It was hard. I teared up a little and we promised to stay in touch. Bjorn drove Andy to his new school on Thursday. He reported that the drop-off went well and that within seconds he had jumped into the gym/movement class they were having. Bjorn stayed for a minute and said goodbye - no tears were reported. When I picked him up, they said he had done great. In fact, everyone was surprised it was his first day because he seemed so natural there. Clearly, this is a gene from Bjorn's side. I was always anxious on first days. They reported that he didn't each much of his lunch (it was tacos, something he wouldn't eat at home either), but that he did take a nap. They sleep on the floor in these cute little sleeping bag type things and I was worried he would have trouble. I'm glad I was wrong. The only time he cried was right before lunch which is right before a nap. With all the excitement, I bet he was just tired.

Phew. So glad the first day is over with. A friend warned me that the second week might be harder just because the newness wears off and then they're fine the third week. It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but I'm glad to be prepared.

Last night we had our first non-book reading book club meeting where we drank wine and avoided talking about books. We didn't even talk about our kids. It was great! We laughed a lot, told funny stories and drank a lot of wine. I haven't slept well this week due to a late soccer game, the Oscars and anxiety so the glasses went right to my head. I'll admit I was a bit groggier than usual this morning. I had intended for the club to be every other month, but it sounds like everyone wants to try to do it monthly. Fun!

And to cap off a stressful but exciting week, Andy went back to the doctor's office and the ear infection is officially gone. After many weeks and three rounds of antibiotics, this is great news. I just hope being in a new school doesn't mean he'll immediately pick up a whole new set of germs.

Non-book reading book club

So I've been talking to some of my soccer friends about how we can get out to games, but set a social event and we can't figure out how to do it, usually because our spouses aren't as supportive of happy hour as they are a scheduled event. So my sister recommended we have a book club that doesn't actually read books. Rather, we'll get together and talk about how we'd like to read books over wine and snacks. Our husbands can't argue because hey, who lobbies against reading. My friends are totally down with the idea and have even suggested we pick really hard books like Ulysses so at least we'll be a very literate non-book reading book club. We will also discuss trashy magazines we would like to read if we had time. I'm rather looking forward to it.

In less fun news, my temper-tantrum throwing child is still in residence. I've decided the antibiotics must be finally taking a tool on his tummy making him uber cranky. I've half-decided to cut the dose for the weekend and see if he doesn't start to improve. He's been on it a week now so I think it's done most of it's damage and at this point, another cold would be an improvement over this misery.

Child falls down stairs, mother traumatized, kid fine

When Andy was a baby, I heard stories from friends with kids his age about the horrors of their kid falling off the bed. That never happened to us and I always congratulated myself on my obviously brilliant parenting. When I heard those stories, I was was sympathetic, but smug on the inside. Of course that wouldn't happen to us. I'm got this shit down. Yeah, and then today my kid fell down the stairs and I take every single smug thought back.

I had made a playdate for the afternoon with a soccer friend whose son is exactly one year to the day younger than Andy. She was going to bring back some of the baby stuff that Henry didn't need any longer and I was going to send her home with some of the 12- to 24-month clothes that Andy has grown out of. I was in Andy's room happily sorting through the clothes while he played with one of his trucks. We were happily busy - at least I thought - when I heard the tell-tale thud. I was at the top of the stairs in an instant to hear the first sob. Bjorn was downstairs in the basement and came flying up (presuming it was both of us had fallen, actually). It was terrible. Andy was scared and I was horrified. Since I didn't see it, I'm not sure how far down on the stairs he was to know how far he'd fallen or what he hit. There were no obvious red marks or bruises, but Andy was crying and I was close. We checked him out - his eyes were fine showing no sign of concussion (although wet), he was crying (also a good sign that he was mentally okay), he had full command of his arms and legs and a couple of minutes later was angrily pointing at the stairs showing us where he'd fallen. He was back to himself and perky again not 10 minutes later, but I've had a knot in my stomach all day.

The funny thing is that for the past month we've been practicing going down the stairs with him scooting on his butt. Recently he's been insisting on sliding that way rather than holding my hand. I've been preferring it thinking it was safer. In all this time, I don't think he's had a slip that made me worry. Not until today, of course since I wasn't watching. He'd been so good that I'd gotten out of the habit of putting up the gate at the top of the stairs, partly because I didn't think he needed it any longer. I guess I was wrong.

In other less scary news, Andy started calling me "Mommy" today. Up until now, it had been "Mama." I kind of like "Mama" and was thinking I preferred it over "Mommy," but apparently this kid has other ideas. I noticed it this morning and then he stuck with it off and on all day. I can't remember now if he's been calling Bjorn "Dada" or "Daddy" until today, but he definitely was calling him "Daddy" today, too. He's also decided that Bjorn is his favorite and half the day today he called for his father and even named the book "Gumman" (the Swedish book) that he wanted him to read. That was pretty cool.

Madeline

Andy has really taken to the book Madeline, but Ludwig Bemelmans. That's a good thing as it's one of my favorites, too. It's fun reading through it again and again as I know the story pretty well. My problem is that the despite being beautifully illustrated, it's illustrated WRONG. And by wrong, I mean, incorrect. If you don't know the story, there are 12 little girls in Paris and Madeline ends up in the hospital getting her appendix out and the other 11 girls are miserable about not getting their appendixes (appendexia?) out, too. The problem is that in some of the pages without Madeline, there are still 12 girls and other pages where they have 11. The story is also a little fishy as they talk about their Papa, but clearly the girls (who all seem the same age) are being raised by Miss Clavel. Is this some sort of home for orphans? Perhaps a boarding school? It's all very confusing. I still love the story though and now Andy gets to the page where Madeline talks to the tiger in the zoo and he says "pooh-pooh" just like her.

Happy almost birthday

Someone turns two day after tomorrow and my mother is hard at work spoiling him from afar. What a lucky kid! He's getting an awesome train table made by Melissa and Doug. It's awesome and was easy enough to put together after a few false starts. The only downside is the size. Granted, this was my idea, but the darn thing is huge! I've been doing some rearranging in the basement to make it fit. Purple Heart is coming this week for a pickup so we took this as an opportunity to sort through some old books and games to make a pile to give away. By the end, the pile was pretty huge. We love books (and have tons of them), but getting rid of some of the old ones is a good feeling. We also found some gems in the racks, including a book of Swedish rhymes that Andy is going to love! Now I just need to keep Andy out of the basement tomorrow evening so he doesn't see his new table. I have a feeling he's really going to love getting to spread out and play with his train set.

Right now, I've got a couple of sets of the Ikea train pieces. They're similar to Brio, but more basic with just wooden tracks and trains. My goal is to include some Thomas or Brio sets to complement the plain tracks. I went to Target tonight during our bizarre, brief snowstorm only to find out they had neither. They sold Thomas stuff, but it was plastic and said in the small print "not compatable with Thomas sets." Um, what? Turns out they have a "travel" system that is different than the wooden stuff. Glad I read that or things might have gotten complicated. My mom also got him some cool Melissa and Doug food that he can cut. Should be interesting to see how that all works. He adores his kitchen so I think he'll really get a kick out of it.

Andy is getting more vocal and verbal every day. It's just amazing to listen to some of the stuff he says. He now asks for "dots" when he goes to bed, which turns out means he wants the curtains open so he can see the stars. He can say stars, but for some reason he calls them dots. Go figure. He's also starting to throw his weight around to get what he wants. Last night he insisted on going for a ride in the wagon. When we were half way on our route, he decided he wanted cookies (crackers) and HAD to get out and proceeded to wander into other yards. I finally strapped him into the wagon and he screamed at me for maybe three blocks. Then he was happy again and chirped at me the rest of the way.

Christmas

The Jul Tompte (Swedish Christmas Elf) came to our house tonight with tons of great stuff for good boys and girls. Andy made out (no surprise) with some new pajamas, a stuffed reindeer, a Little People alphabet thing, a new John Deere truck, a couple of books in English and Swedish, and a grocery cart. Unfortunately had to be put together so he could only play with pieces of it. It's going under the tree tonight so when he comes down tomorrow, he'll be thrilled. The whole day was so exciting that by the time we got to open presents, Andy was already pretty worn down and not as gracious as he could have been. We'll need to work on that for next year. The rest of the gang went on to another party, but Andy was so exhausted I stayed home and put him to bed. It was only 8:30, but I think he was asleep before I actually closed the door to his room to leave.

Tonight, fingers crossed, Santa will come so I'm trying to clean everything up in preparation. What I'm realizing though is that I'm now entering the phase of parenting where I have to stay up late putting toys together in anticipation. With the older kids, they're fine getting something in a box and putting it together, but these Little Tykes things are so complicated, they usually require the electric drill and a hammer. And often a glass of egg nog for me to calm my nerves while I try to figure out the instructions.