You say you want a Revolution…

The year is quickly winding down… it frightens me how quickly it’s slipped by. You can see Jack grow these days. One minute his face is baby round and the next it is lengthening out into a little boy’s.

My revolutions this year are smaller. More manageable. Maybe if I am not so busy the days will go by more slowly?

This year I’ll “revolve” to:

1. Keep soaking in as much of Jack as I can. Imprinting everything of him I can to memory because he’s changing so much every day.

2. Work on that bread making that I put off all last year. I DID try to make cinnamon rolls for my sister’s Christmas breakfast but they were hard and not very good.

3. Read good things. Of the many things I hope for Jack when he’s an adult it’s that I hope he finds pleasure and comfort in a good book.

4. Take Jack out more to explore our little world. Maybe take the bus someplace. Or the train to Chicago. Stuff like that. And just walk around our neighborhood more. We always have fun when we do. And we see marvelous things at his pace.

5. Try to carve out more time for Robby. I said that I would last year and it was hit and miss. Jack’s still pretty demanding as far as our constant attention goes. And then there’s the Little Black Dog to consider. He’s always a bit short straw drawn when it comes to our time. Still. Robby should move up in the pecking order more than the once in a while that he does.

That’s it. Anymore and I’ll get overwhelmed. I’ll still try to drink more water and take better care of myself and eat more green things (which is easier when the green things aren’t being recalled for e-coli and heaven knows what else…) and be more industrious when I have empty hands. But really it’s all just about trying, isn’t it? Trying to keep moving forward with whatever small achievements we can eke out.

And spending as many nap times as possible with Jack cuddled under my chin.

Good health and much contentment in the New Year to us all…

Burn Baby Burn Disco Potatoes

I almost burned the house down yesterday.

Sadly, it wasn’t anything exotic or dramatic. No silk scarves across the lamps or new pipe habit in bed. Just me getting distracted.

I’m supposed to be making Twice Baked Potatoes for a Second Christmas at my Momma’s house. Today was supposed to be our Day O’ Pajamma Fun (ie; the day of Rob’s holiday vacation where the three of us stay in our flannel jammies all day long doing eating chili and watching television and taking long winter naps and playing with all of Jack’s new toys…) so yesterday I spent a the afternoon prepping for that– I made a grocery run to get all the TBP supplies and chili ingredients. At home I made a batch of chili (it tastes better on the second day) and scrubbed the potatoes and stuck them in the 425 degree oven and then rushed around to get other things done.

Last night we had our annual Boxing Day Dinner at some friends’ house. We had an enormously sastifying dinner– prime rib and french onion soup that left us fat and happy. We watched The Producers and paused it at the intermission to feast on sweet carmely bananas foster (I love the ball of flame) and had to be nearly rolled to the door after nearly 6 hours of such excellent company and food.

I walked in the door first. Robby was outside struggling to get Jack out of his carseat without waking him up. I pushed the door open to a black haze of smoke and horrid smell. It took a few beats to register that I had not turned off the oven when we left as I had intended to do… I’d been distracted with needing one more thing upstairs and then by something downstairs when I’d retrieved the first thing. A feeble poof of final smoke leaked out of the oven when I opened the door. I’d cremated nearly a dozen potatoes. Their papery skins held no weighty mass of potato meat… Despite my horror and relief I’d found that kind of interesting.

Robby walked in with the baby behind me,”It’sokayI’manidiotandleftthestoveon. There’snofirejustalotofsmokeandImayhavekilledtheoven.” He put Jack to bed while I tonged the potato remains into an enamel bowl and set them out in the yard to cool to a temperature that wouldn’t melt the garbage bags. We opened windows and tried to air out the stinky house… Jack’s little heater worked overtime in his room to fight the chill and I slept in long underwear, flannel pajammas, and two thick pairs of Robby’s socks.

All’s well that ends well, I suppose… and we are grateful to God for watching out for us. We might have come home to something far worse than a smelly, smelly house.

Robby even cleaned the oven today (which it needed anyway…) and baked the next batch of potatoes since I’ve sworn off the roasting of any root vegetables for a while. Our Day o’ Pajamma Fun was curtailed somewhat. The boys made an early run for oven cleaner and let me sleep off the late, late night before.

But tomorrow I think I’ll pass on the damned potatoes.

No L

We’ve lost the “L” from our alphabet puzzle… It’s quite the mystery. I’ve checked and rechecked all of Jack’s usual hiding places and Robby’s rechecked them yet again. Philbin, the little black dog, seems innocently interested in our search… so we’ve ruled out his involvement. (The Cookie Monster piece of the Sesame Street puzzle has noticeable ShihTzu gnaw marks on it as do the numbers 1 and 4.)

It’s just so weird. It was there this morning and then it wasn’t… it’s in the living room… somewhere. But where?

Share the excitement that makes up our days.

Yuletide Carols being sung at 78 rpm

I hate how fast December flies by. I lost a week being sick which has made it even faster fleeting.

I like to savor my Decembers. Sip each day.

Good grief I feel like I’m sledding at breakneck speed through this month.

Twenny!

Jack counts to 20 these days. Getting from one to ten is easy. He breezes through those piddly lower numbers. And mostly he still likes to stop at “TEN!” and then say, “Yay!” and clap. But sometimes he’ll say, “Leven!” and we’ll keep going… He’s a bit wobbly on 15-17 but comes through with “EIGHT-TEEN!” because, inexplicably, it’s one of his favorites. (I suspect it’s the Sesame Street episode I have on TiVo.) And then it’s an easy hop to “Twenny!”

We clap and cheer and he hops up and down (unless he’s in his car seat– then he kicks and waves) and we are all quite pleased with the success of that small moment.

We count everything. Sometimes we count things Mommy can’t even see. We count at the grocery store and in the living room and in the car. We count and count and count.

One thing I didn’t count on was that my small son might make math fun. Almost.

As My World Swirls…

For the record I got my @#*^! flu shot. And yet there is a collosal and viral HA! I’ll spare you the details of the last few days because I’m still too vomit prone.

Robby stayed home one day to play with Jack and let me sleep the entire day. (When I wasn’t doing… other… things.) But he deserted me for the paycheck. Suffice it to say I won’t win any creative partenting awards for Wednesday. We watched television all the day long and played “quietly.” Poor baby. I left the couch only to let the dog in and out (once?) and make Jack quiche. In the microwave. (Sorry about that soggy crust kiddo.)

I was left with a lot of questions:

1. Did Al Gore have a face lift? it’s really tight and shiney and weird. His eyes aren’t right. Is it botox? What’s going on there?

2. How did I miss Matt Lauer’s 3rd child being born?

3. Am I the only one who thinks Il Divo sucks? I don’t get it. Everyone’s fawning over them…. But I don’t get it at all. First off they’re kind of creepy and oily looking. Secondly they don’t sound so magnificent to me. Whatever. Oprah’s having a seizure in the front row and I’m asking, HUH?

4. I like Caillou. I really do. But sometimes I want dark things to happen to him.

5. Could the costuming on Little House on the Prairie be any more poorly done? Oh wait. Yeah. Dr. Quinn’s closet.

6.If Al Gore’s right and the earth is all that much warmer how come I’m shivering under four blankets, a heating pad, thick socks, and numerous layers of flannel and wool?

7. Are Ann Curry and Meredith Viera getting along or not? MV’s gone this week and I think Annie’s a little TOO happy if you know what I mean. There’s such a weird vibe sometimes.

8. How come Child Protective Services never checks out the weird arrangement at the Tanner House?

9. I love Scrubs. If you don’t then I can’t much help you.

10. Who is filling the decanters on soap operas?

11. The proportion of food related topics on daytime TV and food related advertisements are remarkable. Particularly when the idea of food or food related odors sends one into dry heaves. Yak. No, really. YAK.

Tune in tomorrow?