For obvious reasons, I can't use this blog to comment often on local happenings that involve kids.
The Darisabel Baez murder, for example, is one instance of a case that I would love to be able to, uh, strongly express my opinions about, but I've gotta leave it alone.
Sunday's two child deaths, however, I just can't leave alone.
Finish reading 'My heart hurts' »Today, I've got a C3PO head in my purse.
Not a C3PO doll or action figure. Just the head. Attached to some sort of spaceship.
Thanks, McDonald's. This isn't creeping me out at all.
I found some film lurking in my kitchen (don't ask me how long it's been since I cleaned that corner), and I got it developed.
And what did I find? Adorable little 2-year-old Sammy pictures.
Here's a baby Sammy standing in front of the tree at Christmas. (For the record, we still have that heinous pink carpet. Every day, I contemplate ways to maim it in some severe way so that we have a good reason to get rid of it.)
And here's a wee Sammy at her grammy's birthday party about a week after the Christmas picture.
Makes me realize how much she's grown. Don't really want to think about it. Makes me feel a little old, too.
I came across this thread on the YDR Exchange about whether restaurants should have sections for people with kids.
Minus the guy who threatens to beat the snot out of other diners, I found this thread interesting, if not frustrating at points.
I've been on all sides of this -- as a mom, as a nonmom and as a hostess/waitress (which I did for seven years). And I've had very strong feelings about this from each of those perspectives.
What do you think?
Here are those enormous, shiny new teeth Mr. Noah just got:
And I thought I'd miss the gummy grin. *smile*
This morning, I took my kids to the home of a woman I've met exactly once before.
And I left them there.
Oh, my good lord, what have I done?
Finish reading 'Hello, anxiety' »Noah has started giving kisses.
I was regaled with my first one Sunday afternoon as he and I were lying on the floor, playing. He was on his tummy, and I was on my back with my face under his.
And suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of my hair in one hand, my chin in the other, and planted one on me.
It was slobbery. Open-mouthed. Accented with little scrapes of new baby teeth. Accompanied by a funny baby humming noise.
It was fabulous. I couldn't have loved it more.
OK, I'll admit it: I have a weird love for Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. So I just had to share that the first official pics of their twins (which reportedly cost between $10 million and $15 million) hit the newsstand today.
People magazine is being evil and putting only the cover shot online. You'll have to buy the mag to see the rest (but considering they've got about $15 million to cough up here, I can understand the tactic).
Those babies look so sweet! And little Shiloh has been carrying around a baby doll for months now, which I also think is adorable.
All right, I'm done. This side of me is probably scaring some of you.
If I had to grade how Sam and I did during last week's kindergarten orientation, I'd give us a B-.
Sam did a pretty good job of listening to and following directions. She raised her hand to answer questions -- all of them, even if the adult wasn't done with the question yet -- and she sat quietly on the carpet and paid attention as her teacher read the class a book about Leo, the late-blooming tiger.
Then, of course, there was the part when she was standing up and yelling, "Hey Bus, I love you! I love you!" to the mini remote-control bus trying to teach them about bus safety.
Finish reading 'Orienting ourselves' »Though he still sleeps more hours a day than any parent has a right to hope for, our baby Noah is entering the stage where he wants to practice his new tricks day and night.
One recent middle of the night (no, I don't know for sure when it was; all I know is that it was dark and I had been all snuggled into my bed, actually getting some REM sleep), the little chunk started fussing and couldn't seem to get himself calmed down.
So I got up, stumbled down the stairs and expertly made a bottle with my eyes closed.
Finish reading 'Armed and dangerous' »
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