it was THAT good

I don't often go a-postin' about food I eat, although it does constitute a lot of time and thought in my little head. (And mouth.)

But this... whoa. My friend Janelle changed my life tonight. Red Velvet Cake Balls. Check 'em out. Yum.

please read

I don't know them personally, but I have been extremely touched by this family's story. Please take a look and lend your support...

For your entertainment: 3 vignettes

#1: Willpower

Nate and I were in Grant's classroom at Back to School Night, meeting his teacher and the other parents while sitting in a circle. His teacher (who is, in all seriousness, fantastic) was explaining the strange phenomenon that spelling is no longer taught in school as a subject; rather, it is incorporated into the curriculum in a variety of other ways.

Nate shoots me a note that says,

"speling suks."

And then a few minutes later:

"hoo kares if yu can't spel"

I lost it. Right there in front of all the other sophisticated (fine, there was one permed mullet) parents, I started faking my way out of hysteria with these pathetic, high pitched little wheezes. I think I was winded for the rest of the night. I hope by being the homeroom mom in Grant's class, I can make it up to his teacher...

#2: "Nursing" my "Wound"

I'm speaking in code here, ladies, and there won't be any pictures to support my post.

I think it's time to "pull the plug." "dry the tap." "end the party."

The girl's got teeth, and they draw blood.

#3: Our Twist on Time-Out

No, no, it's not what you think. We don't usually throw our kids in dumpsters as a form of discipline. Rather, we (er, I) throw our only set of car keys in dumpsters as a form of masochistic entertainment. We were at the Jersey shore, celebrating Nate's fantastic finish in a 75-mile bike race, and were about to go enjoy the beach when, OOPS!, I accidentally dropped the keys in the dumpster. Way, way down in the dumpster. Past all the garbage bags and into the slewy, thick swamp of sewage and other unknown waste. Aarrgghhh!!!!

What to do????

Grant stepped up galantly as the man of the hour. Willingly, he let his dad hold him by the ankles and dangle him down into the dumpster, where he fished around in several unsuccessful attempts before finally, heroically, locating the keys. His biggest dilemma after the event was not how to get his arms clean, but how to accurately and vividly describe the event in the prescribed two sentences he is allowed for "sharing" in his 1st grade Monday morning routine.

(Unfortunately, I didn't think to grab the camera until Nate was pulling him out for the final time. It was much more poignant when Grant's legs were straight up out of the dumpster and Nate was holding him by the ankles. Also, it's interesting to note that our other two children were seemingly unimpressed by the whole event.)

i am a stage mother

who says kids can't start at 9 months?

I'm lovin' the technical prowess here

for my middle child

Dear Jack,

Today was a good day. Grant went off to his first day of first grade, and after he left, you and I had a happy, splendid, “delightful and pleasant” day! I loved being with you today, Jack. This morning, we folded a little laundry and put Caroline down for a nap, and talked about sharks, whales, and tsunamis. You watched Diego while I ran on the treadmill, and then we sat down together in the playroom and made a zoo with your animals and the cardboard bricks. It was amazing! You made the coolest alligator cage, and I really liked that you gave the sea lion its own blue-brick pool.

You were excited that you got to play Stanley on the computer while I took a shower. You did a great job—all by yourself! We talked about animals and then you decided to make a cool picture of sea creatures to send to Uncle Andrew. Caroline woke up, and we made lunch—“exactly what Grant is having at school,” you said. So you had an Uncrustable (which you didn’t love), grapes, pear slices, and chocolate milk. You said the lunch prayer, and it was just you, me, and Caroline! Then, we went on errands. You got a sucker at the bank. You waited patiently in line at the post office. And then… we went to the park! What a great time we had! I pushed you on the merry-go-round, you held Caroline all by yourself and went down the slide with her, and then you pretended you were a jaguar on another planet! I got to be a human, and you promised you wouldn’t bite me. You used your super-duper sense of smell to sniff out poisonous bugs, and pushed Caroline around in her space-pod stroller. You were good-natured when it was time to go, and I was proud of you, because I knew you would have liked to stay and play longer.

When we got home and Caroline was asleep, we worked on your very first lesson in your reading book. You did great, Jack! You were so anxious and excited for Grant to get home, and when he did, you both played so happily all the way until dinnertime. You even “jogged” up and down the street with him while he rode his bike. That must have been hard, Jack. We promise we’re going to fix up your little bike with training wheels, so that you can ride, too.

Thank you for today, Jack. I loved talking with you and being with you—just you—almost the whole day. You are a wonderful, kind boy. Thank you for always trying to make Caroline happy. Thank you for being such a good friend to Grant. And thank you for bringing me so much joy. I will never forget this day!

Love,

Mom