Monthly Archives: April 2007

Fun with Symmetry

Hannah discovered that if she opens the center section of the bathroom mirror, she can move her face from side to side to create an entirely new look.


Be advised that while long hair is optional, it is extremely versatile, and recommended.


What 11 Year-Old Boys Are Made Of

Sam (watching me make macaroni and cheese for lunch): Mom, what’s that stuff made of?

Me: Hm, well, pasta and cheese and butter and milk.

Sam (after a thoughtful pause): Mom, what are you made of?

Me: Skin and bones and brains and muscles, bud.

Sam (smirking): NO!!! You’re a girl!!! You’re made of sugar and spice and everything nice!

Me (incredulous): Ohhh!!! So that means… are you telling me that you’re made of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails?

Sam: NO!!! Boys are made of salt and spice and everything dangerous and violent.

Me: Ah.

Welcome to My New Place!

I’m still settling in, and I miss the old place much like I missed my old backyard when we moved away from Rose Avenue in 1972, but I like it here because I can categorize my posts, customize everything, and hopefully, you all will have fewer problems writing in the comments section. I’m still playing with fonts and formats and widgets, and I sure wish I could figure out how to get a picture over there in the sidebar… but still, please tell me what you think!

Also, I’m not really prepared to host a blogwarming party, but gifts of red wine and dark chocolate are always in good taste.

Well, heck, this is pretty cool!

The fabulous Peri, of Peri’s Wrinkle fame, recently honored me (OK, shocked me) with a Thinking Blogger Award. Simply stated, Peri says that my blog challenges her to think.

She said some really nice things about my writing in her April 25th, 2007 blog entry, which can be viewed by clicking here.

Thanks, Peri!

So, I’m just sitting here innocently typing away

… while Abby and Hannah discuss their American Idol predictions for the evening, based on today’s schoolbus buzz. They remark, for perhaps the 17th time this week, how very glad they are that Sanjaya is no longer a contestant. Oh, and that Jordin Sparks is fabulous, but she was kinda pitchy last night.

I attempt to stifle my laughter. It doesn’t work.

Abby: (hands on hips; looking at me in accusatory, school teacher fashion) “Mom, you type everything we say, don’t you?

Hannah: Duh, Abby, we’re her children.

Abby: So? That doesn’t mean she can put our lives on the internet.

Me: Har!

Abby: (again with the hands on the hips) You’re gonna write that down aren’t you?

Dental Survey

Somehow, a tiny sample of Crest’s new vanilla-mint toothpaste wound up in my travel bag, so I begrudgingly tried it. I mean… vanilla? Vanilla paste? I prepared to gag.

So I was surprised when this turned out to be a pleasantly refreshing vanilla flavored minty experience, and I actually went out and bought a tube last week. Prior to this, I was a stubbornly obsessive loyal buyer of Crest’s (also fairly new) cinnamon gel. It’s not that I particularly like cinnamon — it’s just that it’s something different than what I was forced to use for so many years, because there just wasn’t anything else.

I’m grateful we’ve progressed so far from the days of mint only, and even worse, from those gritty tooth powders and baking soda, but where are we going with this?

Is cookie dough toothpaste right around the corner? Flan-flavored floss? Raspberry gel infused with dissolving peanut butter chips?

Have you ever used tooth powder? How awful was it? Do you like the new flavors or would you rather just stick with mint when brushing your teeth?

And when the chocolate mousse toothpaste arrives on the shelves — because you know it will — will you try it?

Conflict Of Interest Update

Reader Warning: Shameless self-promotion to follow; this entry may contains multiple links to my own old tired *classic!* blog entries.

I cooked bacon this morning. Real bacon. Not the baconish-flavored turkey “bacon” that I usually make, but the actual, traditional, greasy, crispy, oh-so-delicious, Homer Simpson-approved, full-fat pork product.

I don’t do this often. On the rare occasion that I go whole hog (har!) and fry up the real stuff, I am treated to high praise and all-day heartfelt thanks from my children.

Especially Hannah.

She of the bacon, egg and cheese sammich fame; enthusiastic Charlotte’s Web fan; imminent elementary-school stage personality — the very girl who once apologized before devouring her favorite bagel-encased, salty strips-o-cured-meat lunch.

This morning, Hannah’s tastebuds took an unexpected turn.

My little Wilbur turned in her breakfast dishes with all of the bacon — minus one bite — still on the plate. This is unprecedented. Hannah usually licks the pork portion of her plate clean, then asks for more. I asked her if she felt sick. I expressed my surprise at her absence of pork-inspired enthusiasm.

She looked at me, slightly mournfully, and said, “I don’t know, Mom. It just tastes funny.”

Method actress in the house! Piggies don’t eat their own.