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Showing posts from February, 2007

Kids' Clothing Conundrum

I was going to be "kute" and title this "Kids' Klothing Konundrum," but then I realized that the post initials would be KKK. And that reminded me of something that happened when I was editing my grannie's diaries. She wrote that she was working on a "KKK quilt," and, rather bemused, I decided to try to find out what kind of pattern that was. I went online and found a "historical quilters' forum" and posted a question -- "My great-grandmother's diary mentions a KKK quilt, I'm quite certain she didn't mean the Klan; does anyone have any information on what kind of quilt this might be?" One person responded: "In fact it probably was a Klan quilt! They were quite common a few decades ago, especially in the South. Everyone was a little bit racist back then, so you shouldn't think badly of your grandmother!" Thanks, lady! I ended up just leaving that particular sentence out of the book, but to this day I

Rare Form

A few days ago Chris helped Mallory paint her face like a clown. "Aren't you surprised to see me like this?" she said to me. I said I was. "Mommy, I really really want to be a real clown," she continued. "But I don't mean when I'm a grownup. I just mean when I'm still a little kid. So can I go to the circus and be a clown, can I?" I said I wasn't sure if the circus was in town. "Well, they can just come to our house, right?" To divert her from this line of questioning, I asked what her clown name was. "Bingo!" she said. "No, Molly. Molly the Clown. No...you can just call me Mallory." Tuesday night when she emerged from the bathroom -- where she was supposed to be brushing her teeth -- with lip gloss smeared all over her cheeks, in an attempt to recreate the clown look. "I hope we can get that cleaned off before you go to school tomorrow," I said. "Well," she said. "If we can't,

Why a Huge Crisis Cropped Up at Work Today

1. Because my boss is in Orlando. 2. Because I wanted to take a longish lunch and go shopping for spring clothes for the kids. 3. Because I have a really, really good blog post to write about funny things the kids have been doing. 4. Because it's a gorgeous day. 5. But mostly, because my boss is in Orlando.

Clearly does not have children of her own

A few weeks ago Chris brought the kids to my office for a visit, and while they were here, Mallory asked to visit the ladies'. (This was after she said to my boss, "Is it okay with you if my mommy never comes to work again?") She went into a stall; I waited her off to the side; after about 30 seconds I heard a shriek and an " Excuse me!" coming from the stall next to her. Apparently Mallory had thought I was in there and had peeked under her wall to see me, surprising the actual occupant of the stall. I immediately told Mallory to stop what she was doing and added, "I'm so sorry," to the person within. The woman emerged after another minute. It was someone I'd worked with on a few projects; we had a nod-and-smile-at-each-other-in-the-hallway kind of relationship. "Please excuse my daughter," I said to her. She grimaced in my direction, washed her hands, and left. And ever since, there is no more nodding and smiling when she sees me i

Friday Weigh-In 3

I gained a pound this week. Blech. I think it was rebounding from the flu. And my failure to get to the grocery store to buy more vegetables. And the fact that it's so, so very cold outside and when it's cold you don't want to eat a salad anyway, you want lasagna. I'll keep plugging away. On to something more interesting: my children! I haven't posted pictures for a while, so here are some I took at the playground the last time we were able to venture outside. Can you believe my baby is old enough to climb all the way up there all by herself? Whirly girls.

It's Always Something

I have Restless Leg Syndrome, or, as Kramer on Seinfeld so aptly described it, "the jimmy legs." This is an honest-to-God medical condition (Chris) and it can be pretty miserable. My restless legs got really bad during pregnancy and are aggravated, I found out last week, when I take cold medicine -- I actually got restless arms one night after taking some Nyquil. I've found one thing that helps (well, other than sleeping on my stomach with my legs folded in a weird way) -- homeopathic leg cramp tablets with quinine. They're not foolproof, though. So imagine my excitement when I came across an ad for prescription Restless Legs relief in an Entertainment Weekly. I almost dropped everything and called me doctor to ask him if the drug was right for me right away! But then I read the list of side effects. They included the usual -- nausea, headache, nosebleeds, etc. But the drug apparently caused some people to fall asleep suddenly when performing other tasks, such as dr

Foreshadowing

Last night I got a taste of what helping Mallory with her homework will be like in years to come. And I didn't much like it. Our task was to address the Valentines cards for her classmates. And it wasn't that Mallory wasn't excited about this -- she was. And she was even being cooperative, for once. The problem was that she wanted to do it all herself, and it took forever. And it was tedious. And my tongue was getting numb because I had to keep preventing myself from saying things like, "If you would just start at the edge you'd have room to write the whole name," or, "This is the third time I've shown you how to make an H," or, "The letters need to go in ORDER," because really, she was doing her best, and she was doing a fine job for a just-turned-five-year-old, and who cared anyway if she didn't plan ahead and most of her cards were signed: ORY MALL It was just hard for me to sit bac

Friday Weigh-In 2

Lost this week: 4 lbs. Total: 7 lbs. I'm not putting too much weight (HA!) in those numbers because for the past four days I've been curled up in bed shaking with ague and ingesting nothing but chicken soup and grape juice. So it could be that once I start eating again, I'll gain a little bit back. Or it could turn out to be "legit" and it'll be a nice jump-start. Either way, it looks like progress so I'll take it. And now I'm going back to bed.

Call it Path to Absoriffia, Or Something

So, they've gone and made a movie of one of my very favorite books from childhood, Bridge to Terabithia . Have you read it? It's a beautiful story about friendship and kindness, and class and poverty and being "different," and about using your imagination to get through life's hard spots. It's a gentle book that treats its readers -- children -- with respect, and addresses some very mature issues without condescension or sentimentality. The movie, on the other hand, is about monsters that come to life and two kids that have to "find the key" to "unlock the mystery" and "return to safety". Or something like that. When I saw the preview on TV Saturday morning, I'm afraid I was less than calm. "Oh my GOD!" I shouted, and of course Phoebe repeated me. "I don't BELIEVE this!" I yelled at Chris, who sympathized. The thing is, if you want to make a movie about a couple of kids who invent a magical world that t

Magic

Mallory attended a birthday party this weekend featuring BB the Magic Clown. About halfway through the program, she came over to me and whispered, "Can I be a magic guy when I grow up?" "I guess so," I said, surprised. "How can I do it?" she asked. "I guess you'll have to go to magic school," I said. She said, "Okay!" and ran back to watch the rest of the show. Now, some of you may think this is not the best career path for a 5-year-old to embark upon, but I'm a bit excited and I hope she goes for it. Because if she does become a Magician Clown, she can explain all the tricks to me . I was baffled by BB the Clown. He was, frankly, kind of old and fat and he told really dumb jokes, but some of his tricks were amazing. He held up a coloring book and flipped through it and it was perfectly clear that all the pages were blank. He said that this was a poor excuse for a coloring book and waved his wand and flipped through it again and

Friday Weigh-In

I've lost three pounds! Woohoo! Actually yesterday I started reading the book that I'm basing my diet (I mean, my lifestyle-change) on, and as it turns out, I'm not supposed to weigh myself for a whole month. And for four weeks I'm not supposed to be cutting calories so much as raising my metabolism by eating regular meals and exercising more. So I haven't done exactly what I was supposed to be doing, but who cares, because I lost three pounds! I have a series of "presents" I'm going to give to myself once I meet particular goals. For example, once I lose ten pounds I'm going to get a haircut and have my eyebrows waxed. (Believe it or not, this is a true luxury for me. I don't get my hair cut nearly as often as I should.) Twenty pounds, I may get my hair highlighted, or get a facial. I figure these incentives will make me feel good about myself and it's better than rewarding myself with an Oreo blizzard. I think what Mom said about the body