FRIENDS ONLY

Mostly.

Washable finger paint my ass.

I was down in the cellar, doing yet another load of laundry, when I heard a faint but all too familiar cackle. I panicked, thinking I hadn't shut the cellar door securely, and raced toward the stairs. The door was closed, and I sighed with relief when I reached the top stair and heard the cackle again. Quin was just outside the door. If I ha left it open even a crack, he would have wormed his way through and toppled down the cellar stairs.

After waiting for him to move away from the door, I reached up and tried to turn the handle. I jostled it again, with a little more force. It's an old house, and our doors sometime stick. But the door wasn't stuck. It was locked. The clever little bugger had turned the lock in the knob, trapping me in the cellar.

I called Millie to the door, and tried for about fifteen minutes to explain how to unlock the knob.

"Mama, I can't do it."

"Mama, it's not working."

"Mama, we need Daddy."

She abandons me. I call for her a couple of minutes later.

"Mama, I in bed. I so tired."

"Where's your brother?" I yell, pushing my shoulder against the door, trying to force it open.

"I don't know. 'Nite Mama."

I remember the bulkhead, covered with plastic sheeting to help minimize leaks from melting snow. I have no other option, I manage oto open it, and, covered with cobwebs, I tear through the sheeting with a rusty old screwdriver and ascend into the backyard.

The front door, of course, is locked, so I try the backdoor. I usually keep that locked too, because I am a paranoid city girl and worry we'll be robbed or raped or murdered in our beds, but Todd is much more trusting and always leaves it unlocked.

It figures that he would pick today of all days to listen to my paranoid rantings an actually lock it.

I lean against the door an hear lots of scuffling sounds, punctuated with squeals of laughter, and am certain the children have somehow set the cat on fire. I go to the garage, get a gardening spade, wrap it in a beach towel cause I've seen people do that in movies, and hurl it toward one of the windows in the back door.

It bounces off, and when it falls to the ground, the digging part comes apart from the handle. I grab a rake, and somehow manage to make a inch thick crack in the window. I worm my hand inside. (Finally my freakishly tiny hands have proved useful!) When I reach the knob I'm so relieved, I can't even feel the glass scarping my arm. I unlocked the door, pull my arm free an walk into the kitchen.

Millie, having decided a nap was not in the cards, had vaulted the "child-proof" kitchen gate, pulled a chair over to the counter, and grabbed the brand new bag of jelly beans she had insisted I buy at the grocery store just last night. She had torn a hole in the middle of the bag, and a jelly bean trail led back to the gate. She was sitting on one side, looking quite pleased with herself, and Quin was standing on the other, looking very much like one of those puffer fishes ready to blow, his cheeks crammed full of jelly beans.

They're conspiring against me now.

I was going to write a post, explaining why I haven't been online much lately, but I think that explains it all.

My D key is stuck, cause someone poured "pink Milk" on it the other day.

I was at the changing table, cleaning up a particularly nasty poop of Quin's, when Millie walks over, grabs the edge of the table and peers over at her brother.

"Baby," she says, her face stern and serious. "Stop grabbin your junk."

Oh, lordy.

This morning, over breakfast (Rice krispies & bananas):

TYO: Num Num, Hi Momeeeeee

ME: Mommy? Where'd that come from? I thought I was Muma

TYO:No, mommeeeeeeeee

ME: Do Ty and Sam call Auntie Sue Mommy?

TYO: Yes, Auntie Soup is mommee too

ME: Ok, you can call me Mommy if you want to.

TYO: Whas gonna work?

ME: TeamWORK! What's gonna work?

TYO: TEAM WOK! Animal trouble some where. This...is...Seweous. (Pause. Fills spoon full of Rice Krispies, opens mouth, spills milk down the front of her overalls.) Hi Jen.

ME: What?

TYO: Hi Jen. Hi Jenny. Jenny Jenny Jen.

ME: Ok, yes, that's my name. You can call me that is you want to, but I'd rather you call me mommy or muma.

TYO: Why?

ME: It makes me feel more special.

TYO: Why?

ME:Because I like being your muma.

TYO: OK muma. (Pauses. Tries the cereal thing again. Fails.) Daddy is Todd?

ME: Yes.

TYO: Todd Todd. Why?

Me: Daddy's name is Todd, like my name is Jenny and your name is Millie and baby's name is Quin. Everybody has a name.

TYO: And everybody poops.

ME: Yes, everybody poops.

TYO: Millie poop, baby poop, daddy poop, Ming Ming poop, kitty poop, zelda poop...poop, poop, poop!

The Pottery Barn Kids catalog came today. It always makes me feel inept. Inept as a homemaker. Inept as a mom. Inept as a human being. I drool a bit looking at the kid's rooms, but really, is anyone really that organized? Really?



I also just wiped up a spill with my sock.


I so do not deserve to get the Pottery Barn Kids Catalog.

What do you love about Autumn?

Oh, everything! Leaves changing color, crisp nights, watching new TV hundled under a blanket, getting ready for Halloween, no bugs!, apple picking, apple pies, apple cider, apple donuts, new school supplies, cardigans, clogs, wooly socks, that new beginning, new year, fresh start feeling that I don't seem to feel in January at New Years.

What group, club or demographic do you wish you didn't belong to?

Sometimes I'm embarrassed to be from Massachusetts, especially when I watch certain SNL skits or Ben Affleck movies.

It's a rainy chilly day, and I'm making pork and apples in the slow cooker. The house smells yummy.

If I had taken this test 15 years ago, I would have saved myself a whole lot of trouble.

Like skutir, I'm posting the top 20. Bold are what I want to be, italics are what I have been, underline is what I am now.

1. Go to http://www.careercruising.com/.
2. Put in Username: nycareers, Password: landmark.
3. Take their "Career Matchmaker" questions.
4. Post the top ten results


1. Library Technician

2. Librarian

3. Home Care Worker

4. Archivist

5. Political Aide

6. Writer

7. Health Records Professional

8. Researcher

9. Public Policy Analyst

10. Data Entry Clerk

11. Dental Assistant

12. Translator

13. Postal Clerk

14. Artist

15. Graphic Designer

16. Medical Transcriptionist

17. Pet Groomer

18. Homemaker

19. Administrative Assistant

20. Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator

Todd's coming home today.

Thank God.

You're somehow able to morph into your favorite book. What book is it? Would you assume the identity of a character? What changes, if any, would you make to the plot?

At first I was going to say I'd love to live in Rosamunde Pilcher's Coming Home, as a minor character, some eccentric Cornish landowner, but then I realized the book is all about WW2, and blackouts and rationing might not be very fun to live through.

Then I though I'd like to be an annonymous Ravenclaw fourth year in the Harry Potter series, but that probably wouldn't be a very peaceful existance either.

I just read a story to Millie, and thought to myself, "This book is a contender."

It's called Miss Mouse and it is about a group of animals (hedgehog, rabbit, squirrel and mouse) that share digs under an old oak tree. They have lovely tea parties, dress up balls and chats with wood elves and fairies. They do have adventures, but nothing too dangerous. I would be Miss Mouse and the only change I'd make is I wouldn't wear her frilly lace bonnet.

Relate a traumatic on-the-job or applying-for-a-job experience.
Heh, I could go on and on.

There was the time I had to give a presentation to a roomful of car dealers and they laughed at me, or the awkward romantic relationship I had with a coworker at my first real job, or the disastrous CA trip for "team bonding" that left me alone in a hotel room in Irvine California for most of the weekend. ( My boss wasn't supposed to invite me, therefore I wasn't included in any of the group activities. In retrospecr, that doesn't seem that bad.) I am not cut out for corporate America-it took me way too long to realize that.

This whole situation was a disasterous nightmare, and it was the worst job experience of my life. I can't believe this company is still in business.



In the book The Gospel According to Larry, the main character vows never to own more than 75 things at one time. Besides the obvious (clothing, cooking pots, soap, etc.) what would be some of the more unusual items you couldn't bear to part with?

My blanket
Socks- lots of them! I hate the feel of bare feet, and my feet are always freezing. Even in Summer, I wear socks to bed.
Books-all of my favorites, or a library card
My computer
My camera
My origins moisturizer
Chapstick
My coffeemaker
My "purple", a squishy toss pillow hubby bought for me at brookstone.
My box of photos that I need to organize one of these days
My box of writing, which contains everything I've every written. I need to organize that one of these days too.

That's about it. I really don't need a lot of stuff.



I'm nervous to do this tomorrow. Everyone has come up with such great prompts, I hope I measure up.

Recall a literary character who was kind of a role model for you when you were a kid.

Well, for a while i thought I was Ramona Quimby, so I guess that really doesn't count. I was obsessed with the Little house books when I was in 5th grade, and wanted desperately to be Laura Ingalls.

From the prompt_club

If you are a Shakespearean hero, what is you tragic flaw? Remember that a tragic flaw is closely connected to your heroic qualities, e.g., Lear was very trusting but too trusting; Othello was very loving, but a mite, ahem, possessive.

I am a very goofy person. I am extremely self-deprecating and silly, and because I come across as being very easy-going and jokey, I am non-threatening and approachable. I play into this quite a bit by acting ditzy and dreamy. Sometimes it is intentional. Most times it's not. While this is good in some respects-I can put people at ease, and I can make most people chuckle-I find that it also hurts me. People rarely take me seriously. My friends, my family, and yes even my own husband sometimes writes me off as a goofball or a flake. When I attempt to do something serious, with my career, or with my family, people assume I am not serious. This is what destroyed most of my career prospects in advertising and publishing. I got pidgeonholed very quickly, and it was hard to change people's opinions of me. Quite a few people were surprised when I turned out to be a somewhat decent parent. I think they were expecting me to leave the kids in the grocery store parking lot because I was distracted by something shiny on the ground.

I’ve missed quite a few of these.

You volunteer at a pioneer/colonial village. What's the role you play there and why?

I’d probably be the harried looking pioneer mother, with a brood full of little girls in pinafores and boys in dirty overalls clinging to my legs. Modern suburban women would look at my tired, weary face and wonder how on earth I survived without portable DVD players, Boppy pillows and Online Grocery ordering. The tour guide will be quick to tell the visitors that I die of exhaustion at the quite elderly age of 23.

You've been in stranded in the hot desert with food water and shelter for a day. You're walking in hopes of reaching a town. In the distance you see a mirage (though you don't know it's a mirage) of something wonderful. What is it?
A shady garden with a comfy bench nestled among tall leafy trees. There is a pile of thick books, some throw pillows and a cooler full of raspberry iced tea lying next to a crisp, clear pond.

Oh, and a fully charged satellite phone so I can call for help and get the hell out of the desert.

Invent a new kind of sushi roll, sandwich, or pizza.

I haven’t been able to enjoy pizza since I’d had the kiddos. Red sauce is no longer my friend, so I’d make a special white pizza with a creamy garlic sauce, mushrooms and spinach. Course, even my husband, who has no sense of smell, would want to keep a fair distance from me after I’d eaten that pizza.


Did you have a hideout or clubhouse as kid? If you did, describe it. If you didn't, describe what would have been your ideal one. If you did but you just didn't like yours all that much, feel free to make up one as well.

I think I’ve told the story of my refrigerator box house before. It was wonderful. Fridge boxes were a hot commodity in my neighborhood. I It wasn’t our fridge, I remember that much, but because I was the youngest kid in the neighborhood, the older kids agreed to let me have it. I asked around the neighborhood until I’d found carpet and wallpaper remnants, fabric for curtains, etc. I even made a mailbox. I was big into Little Ponies at the time, and had about a dozen. I made doors and mailboxes for each pony too. Unfortunately, I left the fridge box out in the rain one too many a time, and it disintegrated. I have pictures though. One day, I’ll upload them.

If you were a tall tale character, who would you be and what would you be famous for?

Maybe Johnny Appleseed, because that is the only Tall tale character I can think of right now.



( Write a few lines of dialogue between two people who know each other very well. The first person has just baked or cooked something the second person is tasting. The second person finds that the dish tastes terrible )

( 5 Questions from Tufted. These were hard! )

It's the end of and era, and I'm sad it's over. I liked the story, if not always the writing. Most of all I liked being part of the whole Potter phenom, knowing that I was one of millions reading the same book at the same time. Even if you don't like Potter, and dismiss the books as derivative, poorly written trash, you can't help admire JK Rowling's success and the enormous impact it has had on the publishing industry, and literacy. opinion on Book 7

( That said, here are my thoughts on book 7 (SPOILERS): )

I haven't read too many fantasy series, but this ending is probably the best of all I have read. It's not the disaster that The Dark Tower was, or a jumbled mess like the last book of His Dark Materials, and it didn't become the same book rehashed a dozen times like Pern or Redwall.

Still trying to decide if I liked it or not.

Millie just got a lollipop stuck in her hair.

I've been overrun by boxes...piles and piles of innocuous looking brown cardboard intent on destroying me. One of them…I can’t figure out which…is holding my cutlery hostage.

Would it be gross if I spread peanut butter with a severed barbie's leg?

If you need to reach me, here or myspace is the best way for now. Today our old internet/phone is being canceled, and my email address is going away. Our new connection won't be installed until next week, so for now I'm stealing my new neighbor's wi-fi.

He's getting too big. I don't remember Millie growing up this fast.


Not much new to report. We're moving on the 19th, and right now we're living out of boxes. I can't wait until normalcy returns. And Spring. It's so cold outside, it hurts to be outdoors for more than 20 seconds. I've been reading gardening books, trying to figure out what to plant in my new garden. Veggies and starwberries, and lots of flowering plants.

I got distracted from packing and now I'm scanning and sorting all of my old photographs. I've got an ancient scanner. The lights flicker on and off everytime I try to scan. Why am i doing this?

The things I'll do to avoid packing.

And writing.

And thinking in general.

Before anyone accuses me of gender stereotyping, her brother is not in the vieo because he was off doing a load of laundry.

Must clean her up before her daddy comes down, sees her and vomits.



On a side note, I would probably sleep with the yellow Wiggle, if forced to choose, according to my Gilligans Island Theory. He's a boderline Professor. The rest are all Gilligans.

(This is regarding the four main Wiggles and excludes secondary characters. In that scenario, I would chose Captain Feathersword for sure.)





I need to get out more.

Well, it's finally snowing, but the snow is mixed with sleet and freezing rain, and the wind is so nasty I wouldn't dream of taking the kids out in it, no matter how desperate Millie is to get "side" and play. We're tucked into the living room, with a bunch of blankets and pillows thrown on the floor, and are watching the wiggles and Lady and the Tramp. Millie at 19 months, is a cuddly little creature, and keeps jumping into my lap for hugs and sips of my tea. The baby is wide awake and watching us with great interest. Todd is working from home and is upstairs, snoozing through a conference call. Perhaps it's OK that the snow is not the fluffy, friendly sort. Being housebound has its charms.

2007 Top Ten Best Books for Young Adults

Anderson, M.T. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation, Volume 1: The Pox Party.

Gratz, Alan. Samurai Shortstop.

Hartnett, Sonya. Surrender.

McCormick, Patricia. Sold.

Sayres, Meghan Nuttall. Anahita’s Woven Riddle.

Smelcer, John. The Trap.

Turner, Megan Whalen. The King of Attolia.

Werlin, Nancy. The Rules of Survival.

Yang, Gene Luen. American Born Chinese.

Zusak, Markus. The Book Thief.

I've only read the two in bold and I highly recomend them. Also, I'm thrilled that American Born Chinese won the Printz. I haven't read it yet, but it's nice to see a graphic novel recognized. They fly off the shelves in my library, and I know there are some people, snooty parents especially, that don't consider them to be legitimate literature. Maybe this will help change that perception.

Life continues to be chaotic. I spend my nights cuddling a very fussy baby, and my days at the new house, doing demo. Millie has been a big help, stripping off most of the wallpaper in the hall.



I've been working on (gasp!) an adult mystery for the past month or so. it's sort of a dark comedy. I've been hesitant to talk about it, because I'm not sure I can write this sort of thing, but I've been having lots of fun with it.

My eldest walloped me in the eye with a Weeble. Today's Weebles are much different than the Weebles we played with as children. They're rounder, more substantial. And much heavier. I have a large black bruise on my eyelid. I got off easy, though. Yesterday she took a swipe at the baby, and the poor little man has two angry looking red welts nestled in the middle of his perfect little forehead. Methinks Amelia may be having some anger issues and hostility toward the new baby.

Now that I can see my toes again. (14 pounds lost so far!), I can look back and laugh at some of the weird things that people felt it was Ok to say to me, a preggo second-time mom:

After hearing that my kids would be 18 months apart:

"Oh, you must be Catholic!"
"Oh, you must be Irish!"

"It will be much easier having them so close together! They'll be best friends!"
"It will be much more difficult having them so close together! They'll hate each other!"


On my weight gain:

"Your ass is much smaller this time around. You must be having a boy."
"Your ass is much wider this time. You must be having a girl."

And my favorite, from the checker at the bookstore, a week before Christmas. Amelia was throwing a tantrum, an unusual occurrence, as I was buying the Supernanny book for my sister-in-law. (It was a book she had mentioned she wanted.)

After looking down her nose at my swollen belly, the cashier looked at the title of the book and said, in an extremely smug tone:

"That's probably a good idea."

Oh, I forgot how miserbale the first few weeks with a newborn truly are. I have a really sweet baby, he's a healthy little guy, and very quiet, but he doesn't like to sleep...especially at night. And at night he doesn't like to be alone. He wants to be snuggled, which is the exact opposotie from my first baby, little miss Independant. it's been a tough couple of days, balancing taking care of Millie and taking care of the new little guy. Currently, they're on opposite schedules. Luckily, Todd has 4 weeks of paternity leave so I'm not alone in the trenches.

But life is returning to normal.We're closing on the house next week and I'm starting to get really excited about a fresh, clean, bigger space. I feel good. it's so nice to have my body back. i still have to take it easy for a while, but I have energy again.

Introducing Quinlan Edward, AKA Quin
Born 1/8/07 at 11:37am
7 pounds, 20 inches



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Why won't this baby come out?

I actaully have lots to blog about, lots of random stuff knocking around in the old brain, but I can't sit down for more than 2 minutes without having to get up to pee.

This may be my last entry until afte rth ebaby comes, so I hope ya'll have wonderful holidays!

I guess it’s inevitable. Driving to work today, I saw the civic club setting up their Christmas tree stand, a line of cars waiting to get into the local strip mall and could find nothing but Christmas tunes on the radio. I started getting an enormous headache right about when Bruce Springsteen gave up and started laughing his way through the end of “Santa Claus is coming to town.” It’s not that I don’t like Christmas. I really do love it, but I feel so unprepared this year. So, I came in this morning and made out my Christmas lists, realized I have 22 (!) people to buy for this year, and almost went into stress-induced labor.

We’re quiet at the library today as most of the general population is shopping or sleeping off their turkey hangovers, so I did some internet shopping and got all of Todd’s presents. He’s so easy to buy for, it’s kind of sad. No challenge whatsoever.

Speaking of, when I left the house this morning, I went to kiss him goodbye and the baby got all red-faced and furious, and jumped between us. “Mine!” she said, swatting me away. She gets very possessive of him sometimes, especially when they’ve been spending a significant amount of time together, like they have the last couple of days. Yesterday, he was wrestling with two of our nephews and I thought Amelia was going to tackle them. She doesn’t get that jealous with me. Oh well.

Thanksgiving, part one, was nice. We ate at Todd’s parents last night and we’re going to do a second thanksgiving at my mom’s on Sunday.

I’m reading a couple of different books right now, the only one that is recommendation worthy is Down the rabbit hole : an echo falls mystery by Peter Abrahams. I haven’t finished it yet, but so far I’m enjoying it.

I haven’t been writing. I’m starting to get all jumpy and antsy just thinking about not writing, so I may have to squeeze in a few hours tonight, even if it’s just typing a bunch of nonsensical crap. Tomorrow I have a baby shower and my niece’s first birthday party, Sunday is second thanksgiving, and I’m working most of next week so time will be tight. Hope hubby won’t mind keeping an eye on the baby for another couple of hours tonight…

Halloween at my house
( Read more... )


Todd made the costume.

She took to trick or treating like a...well, like a kids takes to getting candy for free. She kept toddling up to the groups of big kids, wanting to join their groups. She loves chocolate, especially "MandMandMs." We couldn't keep up with her,as you can probably see from the above photo. I've never seen her so happy.

Trick or treating has changed so much since I was a kid. Parents following kids in cars, kids calling their friends on their cell phones, telling each other which houses have the best candy. Very strange.

This is my daughter's favorite show. We just bought the DVD and she is mesmerized by it. I knew it would be a matter of time before someone defiled it. I love YouTube:

(not really work safe)

I’m so angry….

I’m at work right now. It was a quiet morning, until a crowd of anti-abortion protesters started parading past the library. (The library is on the same street as a clinic.) It’s a nice day, so I have all the windows in the play area open and was enjoying the fresh air until they came along and started their caterwauling. And they are carrying the most disgusting posters. Partially aborted fetuses and the like. Something I am oh so eager to be seeing at 30 weeks pregnant and starting to get twitchy and worried about preterm labor.

Ugh. I’m all for free speech, and believing in a cause, and I’m sure they thought this would be a good, high-traffic area, but come on. They have to know they are parading right in front of the very large windows in a children’s room of a library. And those posters? Terrifying! Do little kids really need to be interrupted from their block-building by this? Aren’t children the ones they are trying to protect? Ok, maybe it’s only unborn kids. They could give two shits about the ones already on this earth. I’ve had a few moms, who are as shocked as I am, snatch their kids and move them away from the windows. I want to do something, but if I got out there and yell at them, I’ll probably lose my job.

F*cking people.

I just made 74 devil's food cupcakes.

What on earth is wrong with me?

Who on earth is going to eat all of these?

Slightly less scandalous entry today.

I woke up this morning to frost on my car. Frost! It’s only mid-October! I really shouldn’t complain. It could be worse. I could live in Buffalo.

I’m at that stage in my pregnancy where everything, breathing, eating, walking, crying myself to sleep is uncomfortable. My poor husband. I lashed out at him yesterday because he had the audacity to sit on a couch I was trying to clean. I also yelled at the monkey, for the first time ever, and she started crying with this shocked expression on her face. It nearly killed me. I’ve never felt so terrible. I don’t want to be that type of person, the shrew that bitches and nags her husband and yells at her kids. Ugh.

I babysat for my nephew, the world’s sweetest 6 month old, on Saturday. I convinced my sister that she and her husband needed a date night, for her sanity’s sake. It was the first time she has left him since he’s been born. I wanted to get a feel of what boys are like, and I’m starting to get really excited for the arrival of my own little man. I’ve already bought him this and this.

The writing is going slowly but well. I’m very tired with this project and am itching to start something new, but I don’t want to give up until I’m done.


I’m reading a lot too, since I’m not sleeping. This month’s reading, in order of recommendation The Book Thief; An Abundance of Katherines; Shug; Storky : how I lost my nickname and won the girl; How I Live Now; Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy; Rules of the Road; Honey, Baby, Sweetheart; Twilight. The Book Thief made me cry, and Katherines made me laugh out loud. That doesn’t happen to me very often.

I'm off today, which is good cause I'm feeling all kinds of lousy. It's chilly out, very fall-like, so I think Monkey and i are going to spend as much time as possible in our wooly pajamas. I'm drinking coffee, she's drinking OJ, and we're sharing a bowl of yogurt cheerios while listening to they might be giants. Gonna try to get a little writing done too...

I need to start rethinking the music I play in the car. “Wuthering Heights” came on, and the baby started wailing. I’ve only heard her cry like this once before- when I forgot to fast forward the Captain Feathersword portion of the Wiggles video. She loathes that jolly pirate.

The Massachusetts Governor’s race is turning out to be pretty interesting. Imagine-a republican woman against a liberal African American man. Mass may have a reputation of being very progressive, and indeed we are in a lot of ways, but there is still a lot of deeply rooted, old-school bigotry here. It’s not the in-your-face bigotry of other areas. Yankees don’t protest or make much of a fuss, that would be a public display you see, and we don’t like showing our emotions. This is what I like to call “polite bigotry”, in which they’ll be nice to your face or ignore you completely and then they’ll quietly refinance their homes in order to afford to send their kids to private school so they don’t have to interact with you. I wonder if the independent candidate will get a larger percentage of the vote because, as a white man, he’ll be considered the lesser of three evils. Oh, I’m so cynical. If my mom can share her homegrown tomatoes with her adored lesbian neighbors, anyone can change and anything is possible. Still, should be fun to watch.

(I voted for Gabrielli, BTW.)

Oh, Veronica Mars and Resses Pieces, what took me so long to resists your sassy writing and peanut buttery goodness? I can understand my apprehension to Reeses Pieces-I had a terrible fear of ET as a child, but why did I wait so long to watch Veronica Mars? I love Rob Thomas, have devoured everything he’s every written, and consider Rats Saw God to be the penultimate modern realistic male YA, much better than the good, but overly hyped Looking for Alaska. I really didn’t want to get into another TV show. I watch too many already. But I saw them on Netflix and thought I’d see what all the fuss was about. It’s such an amazing show. I’d been disappointed in movies and in some of my recent reads, so it’s nice to see something geared for teens that is fun, fresh and clever. It’s nice to think the entertainment ubergods don’t think Laguna Beach, Gossip Girls, and Lindsey Lohan satisfies the thinking teen’s thirst for entertainment.

I just remembered it's my 4 year wedding anniversary. It looks like we both forgot this year. Oops.

14 mos

There are two apple pies baking in the oven right now, along with a big pan of apple crisp. Can you tell that we went apple picking last week? I'm very proud of myself, since this is the first time I've attempted to make a pie from scratch. It was kind of fun, to sit and peel apples while watching Sesame Street with the kiddo, a cat curled around my feet, begging for scraps.

If someone would have told me, say ten years ago, that I would enjoy such a serene, domestic life, I would have laughed in their face, tossed back my carefully streaked, multi-layered haircut and stomped away, careful not to scuff my $400 platform shoes.

Too bad my husband doesn't like pie. Oh well, I'm sure I'll have no problem eating everything myself.

What on earth am I going to do with a boy???

I wish I were a fish..or, er, a mammal Millie at Mystic CT Aquarium

( Read more... )

Millie's Birthday Safari...a party at the zoo M'lady's 1st birthday bash

( Read more... )

My fingernails have grown back.

And I’m a big pecker.

Er, what I mean is I hunt and peck on the keyboard with my two index fingers.

You’ve got a dirty mind.

I’ve never mastered the art of typing with all ten digits. I can actually type quite speedily with the two fingers, a skill from back when I spent most of my teenage nights sitting on the floor of my bedroom, hammering away at my battered old smith corona. Because of this, I stunted my fingernail growth. My index fingernails are freakishly disproportionate to the rest of my nails. It’s been a badge of honor for me, sort of like having a long, hardened thumbnail to use instead of a guitar pick. Or an extra long pinky nail for snorting coke. Or not.

I get very little computer time at work, and the babe screams bloody murder whenever I even turn the computer on at home, so I haven’t had much opportunity to type, or surf the net, or write to all of you wonderful people.

So, my fingernails have grown back. My hand looks so foreign. If it weren’t for the dried applesauce embedded in my wedding ring, an all too familiar sight these days, I’d doubt it was even mine.

I owe this journal a post, preferably a wordy rant about the state of children’s literature, the Middle-east conflict or the unfortunate gaucho pants trend, but that would require a brain capable of rational, coherent thought, and I am muy stupido of late. Or, to practice my Portugese, muito stupid. So, below is a lot of disjointed nonsensical brain vomit:

*The babe is now 1 and is learning to walk. Her vocab consists of kitty, pizza, all done, Daddy, up, go, out, juice and the ever-popular NO. NO is often followed by a very angry sounding Mama, a perfect little pout and a banshee wail.

I am now 31 and despite the occasional stumble, I too am making strides with the whole walking thing.

My vocab could use some improvement, though.

*In an ill-fated, muito stupid move, I sent out a couple of query letters for the completed Book O’ Doom. Of course I didn’t have any takers since I rushed the project and it’s terrible and pieced together a ridiculous query that really didn’t make sense. I am ashamed to show my virtual face in the online pub community as I suck so very badly. So, I shelved the project for the time being and maybe in the Fall I’ll be brave enough to revisit it. Maybe.

*I’ve started working on Ugly Una again. Longtime readers of this journal may remember this as the story about the chubby girl. Changed locales and I’m adding a touch of fantasy (Huh? Who am I again?) to the plot, but it’s still pretty much the same.

*Hubby was recruited by Tufts University to build thermonuclear weap…er, run their distance education program. He has lackeys and an unlimited budget to buy new technology. It’s the job of his dreams and it means our financial woes are a thing of the past, but he’s around so very rarely, I’ve forgotten what he looks like. I have a vague memory of graying hair and blue eyes, but that could be a flashback of my childhood orthodontist, Mr. Cohen.

*I’m still at the library and loving it. I don’t have lackeys, but I do have a 9-year-old stalker.

*I’m still pregnant, due sometime around New Years. We’re not finding out this time. Hubby is picking out the names this time, and the frontrunners are characters from his two favorite sci0fi shows. This child has no hope of being cool. Ever.

So, what’s up with all of you?

I'm at work right now. It's Mother's Day so it's dead. I've had 5 patrons come in so far today, and all to rent movies. It's been raining now for about two weeks. I fully expect an ark to come sailing past the window at any moment. It's so gloomy. No wonder everyone I talk to seems depressed.

I'm a little down. It's my first Mother's Day, and I'm stuck here. I love the library, but today, I just want to be home with my kid, watching her eat donut holes and try to grab the cat's tail with her sticky fat fingers. Plus, I have a head cold, and I can't take anything, so I don't have a lot of patience for whiny parents looking for copies of Madagascar.

Speaking of libraries, these are the most popular books in both of my libraries. We can not keep them on the shelves. Who said animal books don't sell? Fooey on that.

I'm sick to death of hearing about how "pornographic" teen lit has become. It's all a big brouhaha over nothing. Yes, the Gossip Girl series and the like are tres scandalous, but you know what? In both of the libraries I work at, they've been sitting on the shelves, gathering a nice layer of dust. No one is checking them out. Ok, someone is buying them, but I don't think the die-hard readers, the ones I see everyday who have worn holes in their beloved library cards, want to read them.

I haven't noticed much difference between the patrons at Library A, which is in a very wealthy, mostly white town, and those at Library B, their working class, multi-ethnic neighbors. The kids at Library A have the benefit of a better school system, more involved parents, and money for different programs and resources, but the kids at Library B, most of them first generation Americans, are just as well-read, just as excited about reading, and a bit more appreciative of the library. These kids amaze me. The speak multiple languages, work, go to school and care for younger siblings, and still find time to drop by the library for the latest Charlie Bone book and often take home picture books that they use to teach their parents English. These are the kids I want to write for, because I really don't think there are enough books are written for them. I'm all for escapism, but not every kid can relate to an upper-middle class prep school kid who despairs because they didn't get into Harvard and/or can't get a prom date. I've seen too many books like that lately, and not enough that represent the lives of real kids, not the privileged few who grew up in manhattan and have chauffeurs that drive them to school.

grrr....rant over. I'm pregnant sick and moody.

Speaking of,

Top Ten reasons I should be happy that I'm once again pregnant and will have to deal with morning sickness, swollen ankles and sleepless nights all for the wonderful opportunity to have two kids under two, both in diapers at the same time:

Patron with Infant parking spots at grocery stores
Stretchy maternity clothes means no reason to continue summer diet
Strawberry milk
Hubby is forced to clean the kitty litter
Good excuse to get out of family functions
Strawberry ice cream
Sleepless nights are good time to sort through husbands sock drawer and pair mismatched socks
Family of Four discount coupon packs at local amusement parks means we save $
Big belly will counterbalance weight of big baby when I'm forced to pick her up every 5 seconds

And the #1 reason-Chocolate covered oreos

I'm horrible. I'm trying to be happy about this, but I'm not there yet. Hubby keeps saying things like this happen for a reason, but I can't help thinking it's really crappy timing. It's my own fault for being so careless, and it's horrible and selfish of me, but I just got my dream job and I'll most likely have to give it up in January because there's no way I can afford to put two kids in part time daycare on a librarian's salary.


Wah wah.

I used to be very good with change-switching jobs, haircolors and boyfriends on a whim, able to go on full steam ahead without looking back.

Now that I'm old and settled in my ways, change is terrfiying, and knocks me out for days. My stomach is all twisted up in knots and I'm anxious all the time.

But, I like my new job. And I love being home with the baby. I'm trying not to worry about money, and college tuition, and how to pay for grad school now that I've finally decided to pursue this career path.

Oh, and I'm preggo, again. Yep-found out the day I started the new job. I'm going to have two children only 18 months apart. Is my timing perfect or what?

In my ideal, Technicolor tinted dream world, I would shop in an open air market for fresh organically grown vegetables, meat and gourmet cheese to prepare in a unique four course meal that is tasty and filling despite being low in Transaturated fat, sodium and complex carbohydrates.

In reality, I’m going to defrost a pound of ground chuck in the microwave to use with a stale box of hamburger helper.

In the aforementioned la-la land, I would spend several hours playing challenging, developmentally stimulating games with the baby, helping awaken sections of her infant brain specially pliable to dead languages, Pythagorean theorems and color coordination. And I would have perfectly groomed eyebrows.

Instead, I will plop her into her exersaucer, hoping a baby Einstein DVD will distract her while I make said hamburger helper, do laundry, make out bills, and hopefully, pluck my eyebrows.

In the world I wish were true, I would have enough time to paint my toenails, revise a chapter, write a critique or pen elegant and sincere thank you letters to my family in Ireland.

I’ll most likely go home, clean up some cat vomit, wash a few thousand dishes, saturate myself while bathing the baby, code work invoices and burn my tongue on some frizzled piece of ground beef left simmering on the stove for too long.

Yeah, if only….

This pretty much sums up my Ireland adventure:



More to come later, when I've had some time to get myself together and digest it all, but it really was wonderful. Traveling with the baby was a breeze-she slept through both flights. I hadn't been to Ireland in 9 years, and found it very different, but wonderful, welcoming and fun.