How do I miss thee? Let me count the ways...

How many times have I uttered the phrase, "I wish I had a video camera right now," in the last week? Oh, maybe about as many times as hours have passed since the video camera was so frivolously drowned in the sink by the very person whose mere existence required the constant use of it to begin with. Three days after it happened, Zach pulled the sad video camera out of the drawer (grave) and TURNED IT ON. But it was really just like the effect of a drowning victim and that one last puff of breath that gives you false hope. That's all it will do (along with displaying some error message) - it just teases me with its almost-usefulness; sort of like a computer without the internet. Great! I can look through the viewfinder and pretend I am recording the precious, fleeting moments of Jacob's childhood.

I was all about taking my time, saving up the money, doing it the old-fashioned way. That's the way I operate. Get this, I save the money first, and then I buy said item. I don't have a credit card, never have had one, and Zach has only one which he uses very rarely and only when we know we'll be able to pay it off as soon as the bill is due. We get to feel all high and mighty about ourselves that we have no debt (other than a mortgage), no car payments, etc., in contrast to others of our generation.

Well my sister called yesterday asking if I would videotape her wedding. I just laughed. Makes me want one real bad now; a nice digital video camera to go with all my other fancy digital stuff in this high-tech life of mine. It'll be her second wedding, which serves to explain why a layperson would be good enough for the job. I offered to be the photographer...haha. By the way, this is my only sister, the sister who was the Maid of Honor at my wedding, the one who insisted on my choosing her for Godmother to Jacob out of familial obligation. How can you videotape the wedding, won't you be in it? you ask. No, no I won't. She had a loophole when the wedding was just going to be 'simple' because there would be only one attendant each, but now that it's a full-size shindig, yeah, that hurts a little. My mom and I just laughed when she announced it would be simple; we knew she couldn't do simple if her life depended on it.


Speaking of video cameras, can I just say that I felt like I was on The Office tonight at the convenience store. I got in line a split second too late, just enough time for the old lady to inch past me and up to the counter. If I'd hadn't been on such a mission what with my Lenten-induced sugar withdrawal and all, it would have occurred to me that there is only one reason a lady like that would be at Stewart's at 10pm. Lotto tickets.

One thing I will never understand is why someone would toss away their money like that and where the addiction comes from. She spent $20.27 on lottery tickets, not to mention the 10 minutes it took to pick them out. I wasn't complaining, I fully appreciated the hilarity of the situation. I was just shaking my head and laughing at the conversation about how the local bingo sucks. At one point I turned around to roll my eyes and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. It looked like I was turning to shoot the camera a funny "oh boy" eyebrow lift like Jim on The Office. I don't really know what my point is here, other than I love that show and that you should watch it, and I guess that I often feel like there's an invisible audience out there....tell me I'm not alone in that.

What is a 'finkles donuts', and what does it have to do with Ash Wednesday?

For quite some time now Jacob's favorite treat has been a 'finkles donut' from Dunkin Donuts. That is any kind of donut with sprinkles on it. I remember the first time they didn't have any donuts with sprinkles on it. We got one with frosting and then took a detour to my mom's house because I knew she had sprinkles and I just didn't want to hear the whining anymore. We doctored that donut to perfection and all was right in the world again.

So last week Jacob and I accompanied my mom, Jamie and Marisa to church on Ash Wednesday. Zach and I are more of sporadic church-goers these days, but it's something I'm trying to get back into for the sake of Jacob. Not because I feel he has to identify with being a Christian, but because I want him to be able to identify with something. Something which will, in the future, serve as a platform upon which he can judge the other things (religions, lifestyles, value systems) associated with one's spiritual development/existence.

I explained Lent in a three year-old way as best I could, and everyone in our household chose something to give up, if only it was because of the pure challenge of it. Instead of soda and Red Bull, Zach is drinking seltzer and V8, and he's already talking running again. Woohoo! Holy crap I can't wait. He needs to run like most people need to breathe. I have plans, big plans. No more bad moods, more energy, stuff around the house will get done. Sorry, bit of a tangent... I'm that excited to get rid of the grump and have Zach back. Yeah, so Jacob started talking about what he could give up, and he decided on snow. I told him that wasn't really the idea, it would normally be something you eat. "But I eat snow," he countered. Good point, little man. Well we settled on donuts, Jacob would give up donuts. That was brave.

It's been almost a week and he hasn't even asked for one. And we pass D&D (secret parent code-word) several times a day. There are four of them within five minutes of the house, three more under 10 minutes away. How sick is that? Americans. I'd say we frequent D&D twice a week, on average, but it's only ever like one donut that we share between me and Jacob. That and a bean burritto from Taco Bell for Jacob when there's no time to pack something are the only 'fast food' we ever get. Jacob doesn't even know what McDonalds is, I'm proud of that. And I'm proud of Jacob for not putting up a stink about the donuts.

Revisiting Gymnastics

It was great the other day. I tried my hardest to get Jacob to take a nap because we're going to the 4:30 class and there's no way he would stay awake for that car ride without a nap. He didn't take one - until we were five minutes away from gymnastics. We were already running late, and with a sleeping Jacob in Zach's arms as we approached the entrance, we thought there was no chance it could go well. However, when we got inside, started to rouse Jacob and remove his many layers, he came to life. He got down on the floor, took the hand of the instructor (whom he had never even met) and didn't look back.

Jacob had a blast, and Zach and I were overjoyed that he was liking it. I know we looked like complete fools just doting on Jacob, all the time giants grins on our faces. I bet other parents laugh at us and say, "Oh boy, look at those two. You can tell they only have one kid." I wanted to go over to Jacob to help everytime they took a water break. I wanted to high-five him whenever he did something cool. I've got to keep my cool this time around though.

I think gymnastics means so much to us because it's practically the only thing parenting we agreed on from the start and without an argument, or many hours of my convincing Zach it will be a good thing. I'm actually really surprised that Zach is so into something I would have thought he's define as a girls' thing. Anyway, it was cheaper to sign Jacob up for the next two sessions at once, so we did. That was risky, but we're really keeping our fingers crossed....

I think my three year-old is on hallucinogens

Seriously. We hardly ever watch Bob anymore, but it's like an entire year and a half of viewing nothing else on TV has had some weird psychological effect on Jacob. He freaking lives in what I've come to think of as 'Bobsville'. Bob's not even there, usually just other characters are present or some random scenes are played out. One of his favorites is Spud Stealing Haybales, whereupon Jacob is really just tagging along with Spud (the mischievious scarecrow) while they steal whatever it is in the house that slightly resembles (or not) the shape of a haybale. Jacob gets locked in; running around and yelling at the top of his lungs, and there's nothing you can do to stop him. When I say it's pretty much non-stop these days, I am not exaggerating.

Everytime I turn around he's into something else that ends with further damage to the house. Just today we were all out to pick up the Civic from having an oil change. Zach drove the van home with Jacob in it and I was literally 30 seconds behind them. I walked in the door and rounded the corner to the kitchen. There was Jacob with the scissors cutting up a section of the kitchen floor. He informed me he was preparing it for the new floor to go in. WE'RE NOT GETTING A NEW KITCHEN FLOOR. Now we have to live with it the way it is for the rest of the time we are here. I took the scissors away, and being fed up with finding hiding places for everything, I just gave Jacob a lecture, something appropriate to cut, and then the scissors back. He cut rectangles for a minute but I guess that wasn't challenging enough so he headed right back to the kitchen floor for round two. WTF? Did you not just hear what I said about the floor??

While most of what happens fits the 'destruction' bill, some stuff is just plain disturbing. Yesterday we were sleigh riding again at my mom and Jamie's land (where they are 'soon' going to build a house) and at one point Jacob took off down the hill running as fast as he could, yelling something at the top of his lungs. He wouldn't stop for anything until I finally got up and chased after him. Jacob made it all the way down the big hill and was completely out of breath before I grabbed up his misbehaving butt and hauled him back up the hill. All the while he carried on about having to chase away the birds. Incase you were wondering, there were no birds. Hence the hallucinogen theory.

Later on we headed to the other side of the hill to take a long-awaited gander at the Christmas tree. Jacob had no interest because he was too busy looking for a spot to build, and then proceeding to build, Bob's house (see top right of the photo).

Right now he is going on about something that Bob did (took a piece of wood so they couldn't build or something - as he gets more tired the stories make less sense), running around like a maniac and I Just Can't Take It. Zach's wondering to me now if I think Jacob has a problem, if he is psycho. You tell me.

The Wisdom of My Teeth

Well I don't know if they're actually a wise lot, but they're there and there's too many of them. I've been needing them taken out for a long time. I guess I was sort of hoping that things back there would just sort themselves out? The thing about wisdom teeth is that I can't understand how nature could have created something that not only is unnecessary, but also causes problems such as wisdom teeth do. Since I tend to side with nature, I guess I didn't really believe the dentist when she said I was going to need to have them out. Perhaps I thought it was just something people with dental insurance did out of ignorance.

You know how they say that the pinky toe is unnecessary and in however many hundreds of years down the road Man will no longer have them? Well I don't really believe that we're not going to have them anymore because they're not in the way, but I can see how they are no longer needed. With wisdom teeth though, I can't figure it out. Mother Nature is pretty with it, so how could she have given humans something that would be in the way like this? And what did they do before oral surgeons?

For a while there were three things about the natural world that I couldn't figure out; one was the wisdom teeth thing, the other was the whole sunburning issue, and the last I just can't remember right now. I basically think nature is perfect in its own way, even if it doesn't make sense to us. I believe that aside from obvious genetic variations, each successful species is pretty much good to go with what it's given at birth. All we have to do is not interfere with nature. So it didn't make sense at first that the skin of humans would burn and cause deadly diseases. Now that I'm an adult I get the whole pollution/ozone layer connection and I see how we humans interfered to bring this about. I wish I could remember the last thing to better my argument, but I still don't understand why we have wisdom teeth. Maybe it's an omen; the mark of a species destined to fail.

And so it is that at 26 I must now have my wisdom teeth out. Like I said, it should have been done a few years back but there was always a good excuse: I was pregnant and then I was nursing forever, and then I got married and lost my good insurance in favor of a non-existent family dental plan. But today I finally made the appointment. I'll go for a consultation in a few weeks and they'll tell me if I need just two or all four out, along with an exact dollar amount which will be more money than I've probably seen at once in my life. And then March 27th will be the big day. You know what? I'm nervous, but more than that, I'm so excited for the vacation I'm going to have! I'm banking on at least two days off of child care/animal care duty and whatever kind of pain killers it is they give you when you get teeth pulled from you head.

The Weekend

Let There Be Light!

The plumber didn't show up again this past Saturday so we are still without working pipes up there in the bathroom, but the electrician did come on Sunday...so there is light! If only I could get someone to put the mirror up I could move all girl stuff back into the bathroom and do my hair/make-up there. We need the upstairs bathroom done so we can start to take apart the downstairs one because nothing more can be done on the addition until we get the bathroom out of there. So we're still...just...waiting. Even though it kills us to give up on the guy we've had coming here to do the plumbing but we have to get this done. Zach had one of the heating and cooling guys from the college stop by today to take a look at the finish plumbing that we need done. He's (cross your fingers) coming back on Saturday!

What's going on on the addition is another story altogether...the snow on the roof of the addition was built up so high that when it started to melt the water dripped over the existing siding and then leaked into the house. The wall between the addition and the existing part of the house got it. Thanks to Uncle Bill for letting is borrow his snow rake, there wasn't really a lot of damage. It's just frustrating though because for every step forward, it seems like there's at least two steps back. Again, I'm saying 'we' and 'us', hahah, like I've really been helping. But I did make Zach promise me I could help tear apart the downstairs bathroom!

One trend I hope lives out its life span before Jacob is an adolescent:

Sneaker skating. I had to go to one of the scetchier malls in the area to get a registry gift for a baby shower last week. As I approached the entrance I saw a notice posted to the glass: "No Sneaker Skating Inside the Mall," it read. It took me a good 10 seconds to realize what the sign was talking about and then I remembered the first time I saw one of my nieces cruise past me in the lobby, propelled by the small wheels tucked into the back of her sneakers. I thought of all the pre-teens I see everywhere I go, flying by as if on a giant conveyer belt. I can only imagine, and can hardly remember, what it would be like to be in those adolescent shoes for a day (cheesy pun intended), but somehow I don't really care enough to want it that badly. I just hope they start banning those in other places because it makes me feel old.

Adventures In Playwriting, Entitled: I Used to Own a Video Camera

I came home from work tired but determined not to get into another big fight about any number of tiny details. It was difficult, to say the least, but my little family and I plowed through the tension to find a happy place where we could be in each others' presence and not be yelling. All of us have been having trouble in this department. It seems the longer this addition crap goes on, the smaller our house feels, yet the harder it is for our voices to be heard. I'm the biggest offender. I let my emotions take the lead. While I believe myself to be an extremely articulate person when it comes to emotions, I'm the first one to admit that the continual spillage of feelings can be a burden to both myself and my loved ones. Zach is more reserved; hardly ever losing his temper, instead balling it up to a deep place from which only invisible negativity can escape to build a sturdy wall of ice around his physical person.

So we were slowly getting ready to leave the house for sleigh riding, interspersed with some light playing. Jacob was cute and I video-taped him. Then he told me to stop using the video camera. He put the lens cap on and looked up at me with the eyes and asked if he could put the video camera away. I handed it over and didn't think twice about the job that lay before him, except to tell myself how lucky I was that I have a 3 year-old who I can trust with such an expensive piece of equipment. Zach and I had a rare couple of minutes to talk and be affectionate, then we called around the corner to Jacob who was in the bathroom with the water running. When he ignored Zach then gave a vague answer to my "What are you doing?", the red flag went up. I wandered into the bathroom and I can just see Zach rolling his eyes in response to my "Oh my God!" But this time was no small over-reaction. There, in the plugged-up sink, smeared with light green Dove hand soap lay the video camera.

Enter stage right: Insanity Mom (I.M.)

Stage directions: Insanity Mom takes two giants steps out of bathroom, hurls soaked video camera onto couch. Circles aimlessly twice, then opens front door and steps out barefoot, slamming door behind.

Inside the scene is blurry, but off to the right side we see I.M. sitting on the front steps, alternately shaking her head and then forcing it back down, temples to fists. It's clear she's mumbling something but the words can't be made out because cars behind her are speeding by.

End Scene.

Act II
It's later, could be the end of the day as it is now dark outside the bay window just left of center stage. Center stage is I.M. at the table, her computer awaiting the keystrokes. Just behind her to the left is the son, soundly sleeping on the couch lit with soft lighting. On the floor by his feet sits the family dog, chewing something I.M. is obviously not aware of. All that can be heard is the ticking of the clock, far stage right. Scenes 1-6 play out as flashbacks of different characters, narrated by the corresponding actor.

Scene 1: Family dog; Living Room
"Here comes that other person through the front door, I think her name is No because that's what she walks around saying everyday. I was hoping she was gone for good this time. I've been getting in the kid's face all week, making him whine real bad so his mom would get sick of it and just leave already...Yeah, then there would be room for me on the couch again. I might even get a spot in the bed. Right now she's hoping Dad is taking care of punishing the kid cuz she knows if she has to do it she's going to lose it. I'm a dog so I just know stuff like that. Oh yeah, there's Dad around the corner with that thing they rub all over my feet before I can come in the house from outside. He's wiping off that small black thing No is always holding up to her face. I'd like to chew that thing someday. Hey, there she goes up the stairs with Stopdoingthat, I think that's his name this week, they change it a lot. They usually laugh a lot when she picks him up like that, but she's moving pretty fast and all I hear is really loud words. Mom's hiding over there in the corner so Stopdoingthat must have done something real bad this time."

Scene 2: The Son; Top of the Stairs, Bedroom
"Haha! It's funny to stick my tongue out at Mommy when her face is real close to mine. Look, a tiny piece of my spit stuck to her cheek. OK, I guess we're moving now from the top of the stairs...that would be apparent by the fact that I'm quickly being lifted by my upper arms off the top step. Woohoo! Crash landing on the bed. Hey, next time Mommy says 'What were you thinking?' I'll say 'I don't know' and then when she asks me again I'll make up some crap story about Bob or one of his machines putting it there because hello I'm three and I'm too tired to even know what I was doing, let alone explain it you. Then when she tells me 'Don't talk back to me I'll go, 'Shut down!' and point at her. That did the trick, there she goes. It's boring up here, I think I'll go take all the books off the shelf. No way Mommy will know I did it because when she comes back up the stairs I'll run so fast into bed, no one will even hear my footsteps over my loud giggling. Uh-oh. I think I did something bad down there in the bathroom. Mom just swatted me on the toosh when I was waving my hands in her face. I mean, I've got pants on and everything so it didn't hurt, but she's never done anything like that. Mommy always says it is never ok to hit. I think I'm going to cry."

Scene 3: I.M.'s Own Mother; Kitchen
"Hello? "
Very long pause. The mother's facial expression changes several times.
"Well maybe when it dries out it will be ok."
Pause.
"I know how you feel, but you're not going to kill him."
Pause. Her mother holds the phone away from her ear and we hear yelling coming from the handset. "Jacob. Do not do that! You are in trouble here!" Door slams and that's the last sound heard from the phone.
"Kids do that, and you just have to keep telling them it's not ok. You have to be calm, sure and profoundly consistent and eventually they will get the message. And you're just going to have to take things away, but I don't think you should skip the sleigh riding. Just tell him you have to leave the house, keep being firm, put him into the car and bring him up here."
Pause.
"No, the day is not ruined. You'll be out in the fresh air and you'll all be able to enjoy yourselves. Let it be over then."
Pause.
"OK, we'll see you in a little while. You're welcome, I love you too."

Scene 4: In this scene it seems an omniscient presence is witnessing the following:
I.M. has shed her evil mask and returns on stage, far left in the bedroom again. She silently crawls into bed and gathers her son who simultaneously lifts his arms to stroke both of her cheeks. They give each other a kiss and a few big hugs. The mom explains that she did something bad too. They are both good people who sometimes make bad mistakes. She says she's sorry and will never ever do 'that' to him again. She asks if the son is ok. He says he is and apologizes too. She tells him he's still in the dog house, but they have to go somewhere so he'd better get up and cooperate with leaving the house.

Scene 5: SLR Camera Lens
"Holy moley! Warn me before you take that thing off! This white stuff is bright and it's all over the place! Oh, so we're taking more pictures of the white again? We've been doing that all week...bo-ring. Yup, yup, dark again. OK, here we go with some action shots...or not...I've seen sleds go much faster than that, but the smiles are good, I like that. Are you sure you want to save that really close picture of the dry grass? It's just taking up space. Great, snowshoes! I'm sure someone will find that interesting... not! That's what I'm talking about, more happy people. Ha! One of the kid sleeping again...never seen that before, he's in the sled. Poor thing must have had a hard day to fall asleep sleigh riding. OK, looks like we're gonna end with some more sunset pictures again. Gotta tell ya though, these ones are nice. And I'm out of memory. Yes, thank, put that dark thing on again and I can go to sleep.

Scene 6: The Mom; Living Room; Present Time
The mom still sits at the computer pondering the events of the day. She knows she went over the line, as every mom is bound to do. Where each person draws their line is the difference. The arm-squeeze-pick-up/butt-slam-down is just as bad as a whap on the bottom, but somehow non-spankers rationalize the former. A whap on the bottom, though causes no physical harm, inflicts just as much emotional pain as a spanking, so can one really say it's not a spanking? If you've done something but you vow never to do it again, can you really put yourself back in the righteous category or does it just become easier to push the line further next time?
She glances back at the sleeping child, closes her eyes, rolls her neck, rubs a spot between her spine and shoulder, takes a deep breath and gently lowers the screen of the computer without a typing a word.

Lights dim, curtain draws closed. The End.

Where have all the snowplows gone?

This morning I was driving to another mom's house for the bookclub meeting (we read this book) and the lane I was in stopped. It just ended and turned into two and half feet of snow. There was a mass of cars trying to get out of the non-existent right lane and into the left lane that didn't budge for about four cycles through the traffic light. Apparently this in where the border is between my town and the neighboring city. So they just stopped plowing there and turned around? And the plow from the city over just decided to not plow that lane?

At that point it had been 36 hours since the snowfall had stopped. Why did the plow not come back to take care of this? It appears they pretty much packed it up after the snow stopped and went to hide in their garages. They also decided not to plow the lesser trafficked streets, and the ones they did plow haven't been cleared since before the end of the snowstorm because they've got inches of slush on them that your wheels spin through as you pass one giant snow bank after another.

We live on a main road. It started snowing around 10pm on Tuesday night. The snowplow didn't come once until it was almost dark the next day. Maybe because of the previous lack of snow around here they'd loaned 'em out and it just took that long to make it back to town? I don't know. But I do know that our trash was picked up the day of the snow, hours before we saw the plow. The mail did not come, but I completely understand that. The next day I decided I would be damned if we didn't get our mail two days in a row, so before Zach left for work I bundled up and hauled ass out to the road to dig out our mailbox. I was so proud later that day that the mail truck had deemed our mail recepticle clear enough for delivery, evidenced by the one piece of crappy junk mail awaiting me.

Nuh-uh! I kid you not, the snowplow just drove by with its plow angled down, scraping the completely cleared pavement. It's too late to make up for it now, just go find one of those other streets that haven't been touched, please.

Anyway, we're all still enjoying the snow here. Jacob and I have been out playing in it with his little friends twice each day, Mango never wants to come in. All my muscles are starting to ache from all the shoveling. And no, I will never agree to getting a snowblower - that's almost as lazy as going to the drive-through window (parents with sleeping kids or children of car-seat age excluded, of course). Ginger is the only one who doesn't care for it. We have to literally push her out the door so she can go relieve herself. She is a native of the south though, so this is understandable. I wonder what she thinks of it...

Watching the snowfall and drinking smoothies

And some snow would be perfect to wash it down with.

Cold, but not going in.
Now you see a bench...

...now you don't!


Seal Puppy

White Out

Well, well, so what do you think of all the snow? We got a lot. It snowed for over 24 hours. The college was closed so Zach had the day off. All three of us (and Mango for a while) played in the snow and shoveled for a couple hours.

It was so nice to be able, scratch that, have to stay home for the whole day. It was liked a forced vacation from the real world. If only I could have turned off the computer...After Zach and I got done fighting from being cooped up in the same place all day long (I can't remember the last time we spent a whole day together), I really enjoyed the day. I think the only way I might have had a better time is if I could have just put down the stupid camera for a little while. I was so focused on getting a gazillion pictures of this rare snowfall, plus I was completely preoccupied with not getting the most expensive thing I own wrecked by water damage.

But the fresh air did us all good. We baked a lot, and cooked soup. It didn't occur to me that it was Valentine's Day until late in the afternoon when I was on the phone and trying to come up with the date. What do I care about all that anyway. I did actually get some belated flowers today, but honestly? I'd really rather just have the cash that they're worth, or something that's not fed with pesticides only to have its life cut short to slowly decompose in a vase atop the bookcase. Zach, if you're reading this, I didn't mean that, I'm just being my usual dramatic self.

Haha...something just reminded me of a funny thing that happened last week. On my drive home the sunset was so pretty and it was one of those rare times that I didn't have my camera. So I rushed in the front door, saw Zach asleep (sitting up) on the couch, yelled to wake him and told him to go take care of the bunnies (we were heading out that evening and were going to be in a hurry so that needed doing) before heading back out to the car to drive to a good view. Later that night Zach was telling me about a dream he had where I came in the front door and told him to wake up and take care of the rabbits - I think I'm on to something...

Here's what reminded me: Jacob was talking in his sleep. He's been doing that now. We've all been sleeping weird lately. I think this house is slowly poisoning us, we need some Feng Shui action. While I think dreaming is a healthy way to sort out life experiences, it seems that talking in your sleep is evidence of stress. And the fact that Jacob has been doing it makes me a little nervous. At least the other day he was laughing in his sleep - could there be anything cuter?

Zach is a notorious sleep-talker. Since I've known him he's been that way. And I'm not talking a word here or there; we have ENTIRE conversations. I can understand everything he's saying, but none of it ever makes sense. He eventually gets angry with me for asking too many questions (ironically, a scenarior that plays out in real life too) and the fun is over, but I swear, if I could just make it last a little longer I think I could get to the bottom of this person I am married to. Me, the non-sleeper, and him the angry sleeper. Jacob's just got a really messed up sleep pattern; we have a pretty good chance of our next kid being a sleep-walker, wouldn't you think?

Valentines at the Library

Today after music class I had a couple errands to do on Main St. On my way there I had to pass Marisa's pre-school and I noticed that my mom's car was in the parking lot, which meant she was still there picking Marisa up. On a whim I pulled into the parking lot to wait for them. While I was waiting I waved to several people whom I know various different ways. When they came out my sister was with them too, as she had to drop off Marisa's boots and only works a couple minutes away. This is the beauty of living in the same small town all your life, or at least a place that once was a small town. Everyone spotted up and came over to chat. Marisa hopped in my car and to my amazement started sharing her loot from the Valentines party at school. Jacob and I took full advantage of this before she came to her senses and hoarded it all for herself. The kids were in such a happy mood, and I've been really longing to spend some quality time with Marisa so I invited her to come to the library with us. In exchange my mom took a trip to the grocery store (busy with people freaking out that there is going to be 12 inches of snow) to get eggs for me.

The library was fun. I totally let the kids break the rules and eat all the candy IN THE LIBRARY, nevermind that it was lunchtime. Shame on me and my suburban disobedience, but looking back on the way the librarians treated us, I'm kind of glad we did something unruly. I read all of Marisa's cards to her, and then Marisa 'read' some books to Jacob and damned if he knew the difference. We only chases out one mother and child from the kids' room and I'm not sure if it was Marisa's incessant chattering far above whisper level or if it was me every thirty seconds going, "Marisa...shhhhh. Remember your whisper voice," so self-conscious of the loud child with me, that drove the mom to find a more quiet room of the library to camp out with her good child.
All was well until Marisa had to go to the bathroom. This building houses all the town offices so the bathroom isn't actually in the library. I packed up all the belongings and the children, and marched us down the long, long expanse of the library. At the very end there were two doors, one being the exit. Now I don't know what the librarians have going in the room with a curtain over the window that is not the exit, but it better be something good enough to warrant the librarian flipping out when Marisa put her hand on the knob of the wrong door. Seriously, she started yelling at Marisa like she was the worst child ever. I was already intervening when the librarian skipped into action, but no matter, it's a kid and God forbid one of them enter a library on this gal's shift.

So poor, misunderstood Marisa must have figured if they're going to assume she's the devil, why not give them what they want? Yes, the rest of the trip to the bathroom was just peachy. And the bathroom was a whole other hell in and of itself. Then there was the return trip to the library, and the books I had temporarily placed on the counter on our way out previously and the look from the other librarian when I took said books off the counter could have frozen us all in place. Well doncha know I had to let go of the demon hands to pick up the stack of books and the two little monsters took off running back to the kids' room, passing the good mother and child on their way. My poor impressional Jacob would never have acted like this on his own. His big cousin Marisa is like an idol and anything she's doing is just the funniest thing ever, which of course only serves to feed Marisa's behavior and it's just a vicious cycle that only ends in something that looks like child abuse to an outsider.

My mom came in just in the knick of time and one look from me sent her into survival mode. I took off back to the counter to check out my stack of homeschooling books, followed thirty seconds later by two half outer-weather dressed kids streaking to the exit with a desperate Grandma in tow. I said thank you to the librarian three times but she wouldn't even look at me. C'mon, do you have to be that rude? In the hallway between the library and the outside Jacob crashed when he found out that I did not check out his Bob the Builder video (like we need another one of those), but my mother's charge was still going strong. Seriously, I do not know how to explain it, but this kid is out of control. Everything is just the funniest thing ever when she gets like this, and the more you try to control her, the more outlandish her behavior becomes until you just want to strangle her to get her to shut up.

Outside is where Marisa took off running into the parking lot and I almost didn't care, and where Jacob did the thing they teach you in toddler school - you know, stop, drop, and crumple to the floor in a heap making your mom look like a child abuser in order to get you off the ground. As soon as I had Jacob locked into his carseat I announced loudly to my mom that I was not going to bring him to her house for his Valentine's present because he didn't deserve it, and a whole other tantrum ensued. I'll admit that all this commotion was mostly due to a poorly-timed sugar rush, but honestly, the reason we never go to this particular library is because these librarians are something that rhymns with witch. There's one nice one who kept me going there for a while, but I didn't see her today. She lavishes attention on Jacob and has little conversations with him, knows our names. This is the kind you want working at a library, not the variety who can't get the sticks out of their butts.

Happy Birthday, You!

Q-tips as nails...

So a little later when I was confirming that Jacob was infact the mysterious Q-tip refiller, I told him how proud I was that he took the initiative to do that. I think his pride got the better of him because he apparently thought my positive reaction to his gesture gave him permission to do what he wanted with said Q-tips.

They bacame nails. The kind you hammer into the wall to put up sheetrock. That last sentence should also help to explain why he needed half a box of kleenex and the baby lock from the bathroom cabinet as well, but I haven't quite connected the dots yet. I couldn't see what Jacob was doing but my Moms' Sixth Sense (which I now understand to be the elusive 'eyes on the back of your head' thing) reported that Jacob was taking at least 10 times the alloted two Q-tips I'd given him permission to have. By the time I arrived on the scene Jacob had put the 'nails' on the ground while he was hammering the first one in. As much as it killed me to take his playthings away, I had to. Jacob's been out of control with the 'not asking permission' thing. There is nothing in the house that is off-limits to him because given enough time and the sparsest of resources, my little MacGuiver can get himself out of (or into) anyplace and it is driving me crazy.

Jacob acted all cool when I took the Q-tips away and explained why I was doing so. Then I snuck upstairs and was back down just in time to see Jacob come out of the bathroom and burst into tears. I tried to comfort him but he was pissed because I'd stashed the Q-tips to a place up high that he's not yet figured out how to get to (but this is only because I've been saving it - now that he has a reason, it's only a matter of time before he starts stacking the chairs one upon another). He cried for half a minute and then I watched him calm down a little, a thought occuring to him, then slyly get up and climb the stairs. I knew what he was doing and I was just as smug as he because I was one step ahead of him. I'd snuck upstairs to hide the box of Q-tips because I knew he was going to go for them next.

I felt horrible because Jacob was so upset, and I really just wanted to give him all the Q-tips to have a ball with, but it was the principle of it - if only he'd asked permission. And I also felt good about myself because at least I'm still smarter than a three year-old. But then I felt bad again because I was having fun at Jacob's expense. Oh whatever, it doesn't really matter in the sceme of things. And I commend you for making it to the end of this long, boring story.

Q-tips

This morning I noticed that the little cup we keep Q-tips in was empty. It's in the downstairs bathroom and the big box of Q-tips is in the 'linen closet', which is to say on the open shelves in Jacob's room upstairs (due to the reconstruction of the upstairs bathroom). I made a mental note to remember to grab a handful from the upstairs to refill the cup, but I hadn't gotten around to it by late tonight when I was on my way to the bathroom for one. I was about to turn around when I noticed that the cup was stocked full. I am most likely losing my mind a little more each day, but I knew that I didn't put them there. And you know how husbands are no good at changing the roll of toilet paper. There was only one person left who it could have been.

Jacob. He noticed that the Q-tip cup was empty, climbed the stairs, retrieved 'two handfuls' (in his own words) of Q-tips and returning to the bathroom, put them in their proper place. And I had no idea. He is just so damn reliable it's scary. First of all, it freaks me out that things show up in random places all the time now because that means I no longer have complete control of the household, but also it makes me wonder what kind of monster I have created. One thing's for sure though, he's going to marry well. What woman wouldn't want a man who cleans up after himself and refills the things of the house without being told to do so?

A Week (or two) In Pictures

Here's the dogs being cute...

And here's Mango jumping on Zach's Lap. She's been into jumping
onto things lately, cuz she just figured it out. Jumping up to
the kitchen counter and stealing stuff off of it too.

And here she is checking her e-mail. It's been so damn cold
out these past couple weeks, and that spot happens to be the
favorite of everyone in the house because it's against the radiator.
I sit there in the morning with my coffee and as soon as I 'move
my feet' I 'lose my seat' to either Mango or Jacob.

Ahh...the self-inflicted haircut. Every kid has at least one
of those - Jacob, he has at least one every six months or so.

Too damn funny to not stop and take a picture of. The
misspelling and grammatical errors make it even funnier.

From a recent trip to Vermont...probably just very ugly, but
at the time it struck me as poetic for some reason - something
about the enmeshment of nature and a product of mankind?

A quaint spot in one of my favorite places - Brattleboro, VT.

A poorly framed shot of a church that one of you should recognize.

A secret message...

Sometimes too cute for words!

Oh the eyelashes! Every single person who has ever met
Jacob has complimented his eyelashes! And no, I don't think
they're wasted on a boy.

The foot that goes with the body
(he fell asleep sitting up after fighting a nap for two hours)

At music class. My peanut is the one with the khaki legs...

Can you tell we've been a little obsessed with
pictures around here lately?

The first snowfall that amounted to enough to cover
the green, green grass.

Playing in it the next day.

Nana and Jacob

The three of us.

Jacob at gymnastics. I had to actually go there to sign him
up because my stubborn principles dictate that I not leave a
message on the answering machine which the entire waiting
room can hear - ever heard of privacy? But did you get that?
GYMNASTICS! If you didn't get that, go here.
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Check it out! The tile is in, the floor is down, the walls are
painted and the hairline crack in the tub is fixed! Almost there!