Monday, October 30, 2006


I'm stumped about the following things:

Why, when he is clad in the aforementioned pajamas, AM poops in the middle of the night. Is he too hot? Too restricted? Showing his disapproval for polyester? Whatever it is, he better straighten up and fly right; Moxie says pooping at night at his age is, and I quote from her email, "reprehensible." (Edited to add: Wait, everyone knows that both Moxie and I are being tongue-in-cheek, right? I mean, I am mystified by the pooping, but it's not like I've kicked him out of my bed.) And Moxie is the queen of all things.

Why I never seem to have time to eat meals unless I plan them days in advance. And even when the fridge is full, there is nothing appealing in there. I have only been eating things that live on the kitchen counter: candy, nuts, crackers, dry cereal. I may make my way through the six pounds of almonds I bought at my last visit to The Costco a lot faster than I had expected.

Why Miss M, even when she is tired enough to almost nod off in the car before noon, takes upwards of 60 minutes to settle in for a nap in her bed at her actual naptime. Today there was even an incident with some A&D ointment that required a scrubdown in the bathtub.

Why it took me two weeks of shopping to place an order at Lands' End. It wasn't even complicated! It was sheets, pillowcases, a fleece jacket, turtlenecks, underwear, and part of Taxman's birthday present. (No, honey, I'm not telling you what it is, and if you open the box, forget about 9 minutes any time soon.) It will probably take one-fifth that amount of time to arrive here, not even using expedited shipping.

What it will take for me to stay well this winter. I've been sick on and off since August. And now, about 48 hours after the antibiotics left my system, I have a sore throat heralding another illness. It is only October. It's not even cold yet. Sigh.

Why, when I should be unloading the dishwasher/folding four loads of laundry/sleeping, I am blogging instead. Maybe Amy has some insight?

Thursday, October 26, 2006

We bought our son purple Chr^stmas pajamas

Based on my experiences this week, AM is getting to the age where he starts to be a rude co-sleeper. A lot of wiggling and snuffling (it is only adorable before midnight and after 5 am) and more nursing than I really think is necessary. Because he has inherited his sister's strong anti-crib sentiments, he will probably, as she did, spend a few months sleeping on our bedroom floor until it is safe to put him in the little pink toddler bed.

He is also, as Miss M was (and is), a big fan of pillows and blankets. He loves to put his right thumb in his mouth and curl his right fingers around the pillowcase, shoving his little face into the pillow. (Yes! It is dangerous! I know! Bad mommy! Have I mentioned I don't sleep? Yet another reason: I have to make sure my son doesn't suffocate himself.) He'll settle for just the top of his head skimming it, which is how we try to arrange him, but the kid has a weird homing device.

But I digress.

We found blanket sleepers on sale, which seemed to be a good alternative to the actual blankets and pillows. We bought one in a lovely deep purple; I have no idea if that was supposed to be a "girl" color, but he looks cute in it. And I was distracted by the soft fleecy goodness of it. Which is probably why I didn't notice until he spent the night in it that the print is full of evergreen trees. ("Conifers!" as Miss M would say.) And snowflakes. And reindeer. And what could be interpreted as Chr^stmas ornaments.


But did I mention said sleeper is so soft? And he looks so adorable in it, lurching around in his hitching crawl-squat-crawl sequence? Yummy.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Did you know?

--I can't find normal turtlenecks anywhere. I suppose I could at Talbot's or Ann Taylor, but I am not interested in spending $28 apiece. I used to get them at the Gap or Old Navy, but now those stores do not carry anything approaching normal. Everything is striped or "tiny fit" or a weird style or a bizarre solid color. Thank goodness for Lands' End and L.L. Bean. If they get odd, I will freak out.

--Trader Joe's Mini Peanut Butter Cups might be the most addictive food ever put on this earth. They are as good as Reese's, but without the pesky paper wrapping, which only serves to slow you down.

--If you would like my amorous attention, there might be better ways than brushing your teeth and then singing the lyrics to the Big Red commercial from the 1980s. (It was very funny, but it served only to make me reminisce about my favorite kinds of gum from elementary school. Not the intention, I'm sure.)

--After we sang the entire Big Red song together, Taxman said, "You're going to blog about this." Not a question, just a statement--nay, an invitation. That's my honey!

Monday, October 23, 2006

How NOT to start your week

1. In an enormous, cold puddle of pee.*
2. Ten minutes later, listening to a hysterical toddler's daily pre-dawn primal scream ritual.
3. With the knowledge that your sainted spouse, who dealt with both the pisher and the shrieker, is leaving the next day for a 72-hour business trip.

*The pisher did go right back to sleep, without nursing, but has since gotten up, eaten, and spit up on my (formerly clean) skirt. Stupidly, I had already dressed, forgetting that he had pooped on another skirt yesterday. Laundry, anyone?

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Nancy Pelosi kicks ass*

Seriously! I would love to vote for her.

Some choice quotations from her 60 Minutes interview:

"We're in a political debate here. We didn't come here to have a tea party together, and toss a coin to see who would win on an issue."

Regarding the response to Hurricane Katrina: "The President said he's going to lead the investigation into what went wrong. He need look only in the mirror, for starters."

"Asked what she would say to Republicans, who have said that Pelosi and the Democrats do not understand the serious nature of the [terrorist] threat, the congresswoman says, 'I, as a mother and a grandmother, 14 years on the intelligence committee. Don't tell me I have any underestimation of what the threat is to our country. So, if you want to justify your failed policy [in Iraq] by saying we don't understand the threat, clearly you didn't understand the situation you got us into.'"

C'mon people, get out and vote and help this awesome firebrand get to be the Speaker of the House.

The whole transcript is here, although the video, particularly of that last quote, is worth seeing.

*The cutest thing ever? Pelosi hates shopping for clothes so her husband (an investment banker) dresses her. I thought this was adorable, probably because back in my former life, when I could easily go through a day without someone else's bodily fluids and/or food on me, Taxman used to go shopping with me. He called himself my "personal shopper" and would bring me things he thought I would like, or different sizes or colors of things. I miss that.

Thursday, October 19, 2006


Every family seems to have traditions--a ritual that is sacred or tied to good memories.

Living a traditional Jewish life, it can be difficult to carve out the time for other rituals; now with two little kids we can barely keep up with the preparations for Shabbat, arriving every Friday evening without fail.

Every fall we have four major holidays come our way. This year they mostly fell over weekends, combined with Shabbat and consuming our free family time in a single gulp. We haven't had an unscripted Sunday since the middle of September.

So I feared for our sacred family tradition: picking apples. From the very first fall we were married, we've gathered ourselves, traveled to an orchard in Warwick, New York, and picked a ridiculous number of apples. Some years we went ourselves; other times we had company. We've picked apples in a grey drizzle. We've been on warm, sunny days, but in other years we've needed coats and scarves. It's never exactly the same, but Taxman and I always share "sample" apples (so we know which trees to pick from), we always shun the Macintoshes as too pedestrian, and we always fill half a bag with Greenings destined to reach their fullest potential as apple crisp.

Taxman said that maybe we just wouldn't go this year. But rather than shattering into a million tiny pieces (miss AM's first year?! when Miss M could finally really have a great time?!), I just said, "Oh?"

And after all the holidays and work deadlines and sinus infections and rainy weather, we went yesterday. (Taxman took a vacation day.) It was strange to be there on a the end of the season...with my in-laws. But we were there, as a family, and everything was right with the world for just an hour. We have a crazy amount of apples lining our kitchen counter. My first apple crisp is already out of the oven.

Seven years and counting. When it comes to tradition, you just don't skip it.

Stalking the wild apple.

Leaf boy.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

When is a sweet potato not just a sweet potato?

When the cute little orange spud might be the very first solid food you feed to your baby.

How did he get so big so fast? (Maudlin snivel.)

In unrelated news, Taxman ate the last chocolate donut yesterday. Ordinarily I'd have no issue with this, but he left the box on the kitchen counter, so I thought there was still one for my breakfast. Lo and behold--this morning, empty! What's a good punishment for toying with my emotions and breakfast this way?

In further unrelated news, my banana-yellow snot cleared up. Or so I had thought. Until my left sinus unexpectedly drained and I leaked yellow fluid all over my hand (I thought my nose was bleeding) and AM's head. Ewwww! I wasn't sure that I'd have to go to the doctor (hey, I'm not having sinus pain so bad it hurts my teeth anymore), but the nurse interrupted my protests with: "You have to be seen. Do you want 4:45 or 5:45?"

Monday, October 16, 2006

What do you say?

To parents who just lost their smart, beautiful, 24-year-old daughter to a long, long battle with brain cancer? To her 19-year-old brother?

I want to send my condolences because it is the right thing to do. But I cannot even fathom what they are feeling, and I don't want to sound trite or false.

Seriously, what do you say?

Friday, October 13, 2006


And on the seventh day, the kids get to play with expensive religious articles.

"Ema, AM smell etrog!"

Wednesday, October 11, 2006


At the park today, Miss M zipped down a slide faster than she expected. She flew off the end and landed on her behind. She was startled but didn't appear hurt.

Miss M (unsure, hand on her butt): "All right, Ema. All right!"
Me: "You're ok? Did you hurt your bottom?"
Miss M: "Kiss it!"

Oh, dear.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

A big fat thank you to the overpaid bums

AKA the New York Yankees

Your aging, unreliable pitching staff and decrepit hitting have freed up our October nights.*

Instead of fighting over the remote control on Thursday nights, we'll be watching Grey's Anatomy.

Because unlike the Boys of Summer, the Boys of Seattle Grace never disappoint.

*Don't get me wrong, I enjoy watching good baseball. I said good baseball. Not 20 scoreless innings. You think once Derek Jeter gets on base, he also has to drive himself in? It's a TEAM sport. Sheesh. Thankfully we were saved from actually watching most of the debacle because the last two games were played on Sukkot.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Want him? Too bad, he's taken

As a thank you for my death-defying parenting maneuvers last week, Taxman bought me a spa package at a very shi-shi East Side place. Whoa.

It's two hours of worth of a facial, body scrub, and massage. (He knew to avoid anything with a pedicure or a foot massage because I am weird about my feet.) I may not want to come home.

And even better, he fielded the calls from the snot-filled AM last night. I slept undisturbed for close to four hours. Of course, my night ended at 3:23, but the prior sleep almost made up for that. Almost.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

More free advertising for Dell

Phantom Scribbler started it.

Purple_Kangaroo turned it into a meme.

I am just doing my part for the cuteness of the blogosphere. And two-year-olds everywhere who wear a size 9 shoe. (Hey, not my genetics!)

Baby AM wanted in on the action, too.

Miss M was an instant messenger from way back.

(Yes, they are in the same onesie. What's the verdict? Do they look alike? Their facial expressions aren't even close, though. Maybe try this one.)

Monday, October 02, 2006

I survived Yom Kippur and all I got was this lousy headache

The good news is that it is easier to fast carrying an extra 5-10 pounds and nursing an infant who is happy to take a pumped bottle* than being 10 pounds underweight, 12 weeks pregnant, and nursing a toddler who will accept no substitutes.

But the nursing, it's still pretty dehydrating. I spent the last two hours of the holiday lying on the floor in my pajamas, praying not for a good fate for the next year, but not to pass out when I stood up to serve Miss Hysterical** her dessert.

Oh yeah. The kids have new names, just for today. Because from the time they woke up from their naps (well, it was AM's third nap) they were Miss Hysterical and Mr. Cranky., when you are trying very hard to finally make it through a fast day without becoming totally ill. (Success! Although apparently my "color" upon Taxman's return from shul left a lot to be desired.)

I spent (much) more time at the park today than at synagogue and more time reading board books than with a Yom Kippur prayerbook open. So I hope Taxman put in a good word for both of us, as it were. (He's just lucky I didn't call the Rescuers dispatcher and have him paged home during my dizzy spells. Actually, I am lucky I didn't try it, because he was at the hospital on a call!)

I hope that when I get my groove back, in the form of both kids sleeping through the night, I will be able to reconnect the disconnect that is my spiritual life. In the meantime, watching Miss Hysterical pick up little religious things at preschool is SO!CUTE! It doesn't preclude the sleeping, though. We can do both. Someday.

*AM had three bottles, mostly because I didn't have a whole lot of time last week to pump more. I gave him one of them, and it was weird for me. It's just not as snuggly as nursing, you know? But he didn't really seem to care one way or the other--I guess it all tastes the same to him.

**I don't mean this in the good (i.e. being funny) way. I mean in the "bursting into tears when I refused to nurse her, crying when I told her I felt sick, screaming when I left the room to put AM down for a nap" way. It was muy obnoxious, if I may be frank.