Which one is me?

Tom Sietsema's chat has a post from me. Can you guess which one?

Another Fun Day: Good News and Bad News

Another fun day today, we woke up early and cuddled. Played, ate soft-boiled eggs, watched a highly edited (by Muffin Man) version of Beauty and the Beast. Then we went out to That's Amore for brunch, MM behaved beautifully and was rewarded with a new book and 5 matchbox cars from the Toys-R-Us next door.

We played with the cars and MM took a nap. Had ice cream sandwiches for after-nap snack, played with the cars some more and went to Mr. Spock's sister's house for dinner. Came home, MM took a bath (and was very cooperative about it which was a novelty) and then Mr. Spock came home and tucked MM into bed.

So, what's the good news and the bad news?

Bad news: MM had not one, not two, but THREE poops in his underwear today and three wet accidents. I've done 7 loads of laundry today.

Good news: The very last pee of the day went partly on the floor and partly in the potty. AND HE STOOD UP to pee. Pulled down his underpants just a tad and everything. Rewarded with lots of praise and three gummy bears.

Excellent day over all.

Fun day today

Muffin Man and I are on our own this weekend. Mr. Spock is up in NYC visiting a friend of ours.

MM & I went for SoupAndBread today and had a great time. After nap, our babysitter came over and I went shopping for shorts for MM (he only had four pair and we're starting potty training again) and some clothes for me.

Fun Fact 1: I've gone from a size ten in skirts and pants to a size 8.
Fun Fact 2: I've gone from a 38 bra to a 36. Same cup size. And I am in love with the Wacoal Slimline Minimizer.
Fun Fact 3: Muffin Man is making another stab at potty training. Let's hope it takes this time.

Ewwwwww!

Muffin Man noticed tonight that Aladdin and Jasmin kiss with their mouths open. And now he wants to.

How do you explain to a loving three-year-old that it's not appropriate to soul kiss your parents?

Hold it right there, buster.

Every day, before we leave daycare for home, I need to give Muffin Man a pat down.

That boy has a passion for collecting. Doesn't matter what, if it can fit in his pocket, he's taking it home. Rocks, currently, are his favorite, followed closely by little toy cars. The toy cars are appearing less often 'cause daycare has FINALLY started to ban toys-from-home.

If I don't pat him down, we'll find things in the dryer. Rocks, flowers (he had a whole bouquet in his pockets, I swear), paper towels, toys. So far, I've managed to avoid letting crayons get in there, we'll see how long that lasts.

So today was a breakthrough...I sent him to school in clothes that had no pockets, no pockets at all. Aha! I thought. I've outsmarted you this time! And then he took off his pull-up and a rock fell out.

Laura started it:

Laura wrote this post about famous people to whom she has sold pants. Well, I've never sold pants, but I've sold ice cream, cookies, movie tickets (cashier/manager at the King's Court in Pgh, now defunct, and manager at Loews in NYC) and books. So here's my list of famous people to whom I have sold sundries.

Ice Cream and Cookies (at David's Cookies in Greenwich Village, now defunct.):
Ric Ocasik

Movie tickets/passes:
Jennifer Beals
George Romaro
Rob Lowe
Chef Brocket
Gene Anthony Ray

Books from Booklink, now defunct:
Andrea Dworkin and Philip Larkin
Paul Auster
Steve Buscemi

Books from the Traveler's Bookstore, now defunct:
Victoria Tennent

Books from Murder Ink:
Kathleen Turner
Barbara Grizzuti Harrison
Robert Crais
Lawrence Block

People I've Bumped Into on the Street, Sat Next to on the Subway, Lived Upstairs From, Was Friends with their Children:
Cynthia Harris
Peter Schickele
F. Murray Abraham
Jennifer Connelly
Jack Nicholson
Mandy Patinkin
Jaye Davidson

Never Eat Anything Bigger Than Your Head

That's Muffin Man's motto.

Perpetually Pregnant is talking about the pluses and minuses of breast-feeding. And since MM refused catagorically to breast-feed, I felt unequal to the task of commenting there. However, Perpetually Pregnant also mentioned pumping and that is a subject I can speak to.

I pumped for nine months. My "office" at work was a cubicle. I was responsible for finding a quiet, comfortable, private place to express myself. I used empty offices (my boss' while he was in meetings, mostly), empty conference rooms, disused storage closets, bathroom stalls (had to go to a different building to find one with an outlet), and a "lounge" with no door that was in a women's restroom on the third floor of the other building. You'd think that with so many women in the work place this wouldn't be such a pain in the ass.

Anyways, what made it bearable was the hands-free pumping attachments for the Medela (you've got to buy their bra to use it) which enabled me to read while pumping. Which may explain why I still leak a bit (books as let-down cues...hmmm.)

The best part about pumping exclusively is that you don't have to be open for business at 2 in the morning. Mr. Spock took that shift when I went back to work, since he works from home (lucky dog). The worst thing is the feeling of missing out, somehow, on that special bond and, of course, the lack of opportunity to piss people off by nursing in public.

Why does this keep happening? UPDATED

UPDATE: the article I linked to below is actually from 2003. Sorry. The story Mr. Spock told me about is here. I apologize for the error. But it actually makes my point even more valid. This still keeps happening, people.

Today my Mr. Spock told me about yet another child who died after being left in a car. According to the article there were 36 in 2003 alone.

Here's the thing. How does this happen? How can a person NOT BE AWARE that there is a baby or toddler in the car with them? DON'T THEY CHECK? It's not like this isn't publicised EVERY FLIPPING TIME IT HAPPENS!

It's hot out. Every time I get out of the car, I check. EVERY TIME. Before I lock the car, I check again. EVERY TIME.

Okay. End of rant. For now.

Apparently, reading isn't fundamental

Phantom Scribbler has a school reminiscence which reminded me of my fifth grade teacher.

In general, this teacher was cool - she taught us about critical viewing of advertisements, she introduced us to Holly Near's music, she had us writing poetry and stuff. But....

I may have told you folks once or twice that I like to read.

I like to read a lot. I mean I read often, in bulk. I also love to read.

I'm like Scrooge McDuck - I love to dive into it like a porpoise, burrow through it like a gopher, toss it up and let it hit me on the head. But where he's talking about money, I'm talking about the printed word.

Ms. Fifth Grade Teacher was worried that I was hurting my friends' feelings because I wasn't playing with them enough. Because during my free time at school I would read. Nevermind that I played with them outside of school and during recess and all that crap, and nevermind that my friends didn't mind AT ALL, I was spending too much time with my fictional friends and not enough time with the real ones.

So new rule: little miss Mystery Mommy could use only 15 minutes of free time to read. All other "free" time had to be spend interacting with the other kids in the class.

That was really the start of my reading disorder. I would sneak books. I hid them in my desk, open to the page I was reading and slide it out during class time when I was done doing whatever work I needed to do (not a lot in that school). I stopped doing homework, I played less with friends after school. I would take books out at recess and my friends would cover for me. I was a classic binge reader. I guess I still am. I read the last Harry Potter book in one sitting. I can read and walk down a busy New York Street at the same time. I'm a bookaholic and I'm proud of it.

So, did I ever forgive Ms. Fifth Grade Teacher? Uh-huh. She stayed in touch with my mom and we all had dinner together when I was 25. "You're the same age I was when I taught you!" she said. In that moment, all was forgiven.

APL's Concert Meme : UPDATED

Angry Pregnant Lawyer just posted a huge list of concerts she's been to. Here's my (somewhat shorter) list.

The Weavers
Holly Near (2 x)
Pete Seeger (lots)
Arlo Gutherie (2 x)
Rick Springfield (7th grade with my friend Lisa. Second row from the top on the upper balcony. The girls behind us had a banner that said, "We Love You Rick!")
Duran Duran
Bob Dylan/Tom Petty
Bonnie Raitt/Lyle Lovett
Red Clay Ramblers
Peter, Paul & Mary
Squeeze
Peter Gabriel
Hall & Oates
The Proclaimers
Sting
REM/10,000 Maniacs
Dave Matthews Band/Freedy Johnston
Laurie Anderson (2x)
The Flying Karamazov Brothers (7 x. Does this count as a concert? They do play music. My favorite show of theirs is "Juggling and Cheap Theatrics")

The Clear Water River Revival (Pete Seegar, Holly Near, The Flying Karamazov Brothers, Arlo Gutherie, etal)
LollaPalooza (Green Day, Beastie Boys, etal)

I'm sure I'm forgetting a few.

I woulda gone to see the Police on their Synchronicity tour, but they were playing out at the Meadowlands and my mom thought I was too young to go by myself and she didn't want to drive all the way out there. "You'll see them next time", she said. To her credit, she tried to make up for it by paying for my ticket to see Sting. And don't we all need a story akin to "My mom threw out my extremely valuable comic book collection."?

UPDATED 6/8/05: OMIGOD! How could I have forgotten Christine Lavin & The Four Bitchin' Babes (6x altogether)??

Am I right to feel offended?

By the Marketplace report this morning about turning off the WiFi at a coffee shop in the northwest in an effort to "encourage dialog"?

I mean, what do they think we have here? The blogosphere, listservs, usenet...these are all the great-grand-children of the original coffee houses. Where else outside of universities are there discussions of all sorts going on at the intellectual levels that can be found on the internet? Take just the links to the right -->

A Little Pregnant, Brooklyn Girl, Bitch PhD and many others are discussing Reproductive Rights (abortion, adoption, IVF and associated assisted reproductive technology). Many, many links are to blogs that often talk about the war, class, religion, gay rights, euthenasia, Sudan, sex education, morality and television programming, commercialization and television programming, consumerism, guilt over living in wealthy nations where people go hungry and homeless.

I was especially annoyed by the reporter bringing up that old standard -- the internet isolates us. Hello? It my imagination or did APL and I not just get together with our kids this past weekend? I'm a regular reader of bloggers from all over the US and Canada, of people with differing viewpoints. The one thing you all have in common is I think you write well. And some of y'all read my blog too. In what way are we isolating ourselves? I would say that we would be more isolated if we were NOT utilizing the vast resources of the internet.

Sheesh.

End of rant.

The What if...Meme

I caught this one from Phantom Scribbler again.

Here's how the game works. Below are a series of statements. I choose five and complete them, then "tag" three more people to do the same.

The statements are:
If I could be a scientist
If I could be a farmer
If I could be a psychologist
If I could be a librarian
If I could be an inn-keeper
If I could be a professor
If I could be a writer
If I could be a llama-rider
If I could be a bonnie pirate
If I could be an astronaut
If I could be a world famous blogger
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world
If I could be married to any current famous political figure

If I could be a farmer, I would raise coffee, pineapples and bananas on Kauai.
If I could be an inn-keeper, I would run a B&B next to Kee Beach on Kauai.
If I could be a librarian, I would run the lovely new library in Princeville on Kauai.
If I could be a bonnie pirate, I would sail the seven seas, marauding slavers' ships and come back to my base on Kauai.
If I could be a scientist, I would be a botanist and get a grant to study flowers on Kauai.

Hmmmm....it may be time for a vacation.

Once again, I don't know if anyone out there hasn't been hit with this stick so if you haven't done this one yet, and you want to...Consider yourself hit!

The Nurse

Okay, so the nurse.

The nurse comes in to the delivery room (not the operating room, but the softly lit birthing room) and has a check list she wants to go over. I'm in labor at this point, so not in the best of moods. Mr. Spock is being very together, except he's just called three sets of parents and is a little on edge.

Nurse: Do you know the sex of the baby?
Us: Boy
Nurse: Do have a name yet?
Us: [Muffin Man's Name]
Nurse: Will he be getting circumcised?
Us: No.
Nurse: Will you be needing a lactation consultant?
Us: Uhhhhh, yes?
Nurse: Do you have a pediatrician?
Us: [Muffin Man's pediatrician group]
Nurse: Who will be doing his circumcision?
Us: He's not getting circumcised.
Nurse: Right. What religion are you?
Mr. Spock: I was raised Catholic.
Me: I'm Jewish.
Nurse: Okay! That's it! (Walks out)
Us: ...hmmmm....
Me: Go get her back here! Make sure she's not getting a Mohel!

Book Meme

Phantom Scribbler agreed to hit me with this meme stick. Amazon is being very slow today, I'll add links to books later, okay?

Number of books I own: Over 1000 just in my bedroom. And that's after selling a huge bunch and giving even more away. I gave away most of my young adult books to my niece and nephew, with the understanding that they'll send 'em back to Muffin Man when he's old enough.
I collected a ton of books when I was working at Murder Ink, and before that when I was working at Booklink, now defunct. So in the library downstairs I have about 100 signed first editions and advance readers copies, in my room I have more first editions (not signed) and a huge bunch of paper backs. Some of my paperbacks are stripped copies (books the store wasn't selling, the covers are stripped off and sent back to the publisher, the rest of the book is supposed to be thrown away). To be honest, these are some of my favorites -- and they are now out of print for the most part, I never would have discovered them if we hadn't been culling them out of the shelves.

The last book I bought: It hasn't arrived yet. Undead & Unemployed by Mary Janice Davidson which is the sequel to

The last book I read: Undead and Unwed. Very funny, light-hearted take on the vampire myth. And yes, that is truly the last book I read, since Mr. Spock was Muffin Man's designated reader yesterday.

Five books that mean a lot to me: Just five? Oh dear.
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. Makes me cry every time.
A Little Princess by Frances Hodgsen Burnett. First character I met who loves books as much as I do. And aside from ALP, The Secret Garden, and Little Lord Fauntleroy, did you know she wrote books for grown-ups too?
Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh. Glimpses into the secret lives of neighbors. I loved the man with all the cats.
Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen. Best first line of any book ever.
Dead Heads by Reginald Hill. This was the first I ever read by him. His writing is so wonderful.

I don't know off hand of anyone who hasn't done this one. Maybe you, Jenn?

Lessons learned.

Reminder to self: Check the outdoor temperature before walking with Muffin Man to the unshaded SwingsAndSlides.

Even though we brought water with us and stopped to have many drinks, he was hot and flushed by the time we got there and had no energy to play. And there are no shaded benches to sit on and he doesn't like sitting on the grass (too tickley and he thinks ants will crawl into his pull-up. I blame the "Quartermaster's Store" song. There are ants, ants, crawling in the pants at the store...)

So we headed back and got ice-cream, but it was a looooonnnnnngggg time before his cheeks went back to a normal color.

You guys would not believe...

...how absolutely adorable Angry Boy is. That's right, APL, AB, Muffin Man & I all went to the Leesburg Animal Farm Park together this morning and a good time was had by all.

AB's so cute! He fed all the animals and was so adventurous. Muffin Man was very impressed by how big "That Little Boy" is.

MM also fed the animals (his first time since the pig tried to eat his fingers last year) and rode on the pony. We all went on the wagon ride to feed the ducks, geese and fish.

APL is just like her blog, super nice, super intelligent, and very pretty. We're going to get together again next month.

We spent about an hour and a half at the park, wandering around, looking at the animals and watching AB run. He has the cutest, most wiggly-butted run. MM showed off his spelling and counting skills (at my instigation).

During the wagon ride, we admired the slip&slide that was in the yard of the starter castle next door to the park and afterwards MM & AB played on some slides that were in the park.

All in all, a lovely day.

The Birth Story Meme

Sometime around the middle of month 7, I couldn't fit behind the steering wheel of my Ford Taurus anymore (short legs, distant pedals, you get the picture). So Mr. Spock was driving me to work everyday and on our way, we'd stop off at the Silver Diner for breakfast.

On Friday, February 1st, we walked into Silver Diner and my water broke (but not GUSH, just enough to wet my pants), so I got into the dry pants I was always carrying around with me. I took stock. Was I in labor? No. Okay. If I didn't eat now, would I get a chance to eat later at the hospital? No. Okay.

So we stayed and had breakfast. And then, since we were really close to where I work, we went there. I called my doctor's office, told them what had happened and asked permission to go home and get my stuff for the hospital. They asked, "Labor pains?" No. "Okay, go on home, get your stuff and then come right to the hospital."

So, I said goodbye to everyone at work. Gathered up a few things, went home, went to the hospital.

Doctor checked me, no labor. No dilation. Actually, no amniotic fluid. Hmmmm....did another slide and found just a smidge of fluid. It seems I had a slow leak from the top. It was a week before my due date, so he said "Well, we could send you home and induce you tomorrow if you don't start labor, or we could induce you today." I chose today, MS agreed. MS called our parents to let them know.

Machines, pitocin. No labor. Upped the pitocin and broke my water (wow! That's a lot of fluid!) and.....the contractions started and went off the charts. MS rubbed my back. He was so great, he is the very best husband in the world.

Eventually I asked for an epidural and I gotta tell you, I am still in love with my anesthetist.

Remind me to tell you later about the nurse who kept asking about our plans to circumcise Muffin Man. It's a hoot.

Now, I've been in labor a while and my doctor comes in to check on me and Muffin Man has moved two centimeters in the wrong direction. He's digging in his heels. He does not want to come out.

My doctor says, "What are your feelings right now about having a c-section?" I'm fine with it. MS is fine with it. The doctor tells us that an operating room should be open in a few hours, and if no progress had been made at that point, we could do a c-section then. Fine. MS calls our parents to give them an update.

So at 9:01 PM Friday, February 1 Muffin Man was born by c-section. My biggest memories of being in the operating room are:

1. My first sight of my son. He was on the table across from me getting suctioned and all that and his legs were spread-eagled and all I could really see were his bright purple testicles. Wow. And he was so pissed off. "Put! Me!Back! Put! Me! Back!"

2. The doctor and his assistants counting over and over, sponges, clamps, etc. 23 sponges, btw.

Afterwards, they let me hold Muffin Man as they wheeled us from the recovery room to our room on the maternity ward. He was so perfect and small and he had decided maybe it wasn't so bad being out in the world.

Muffin Man Eats a Fortune Cookie

You are a bundle of energy, always on the go.

Ain't it the truth!

What brought all this on?

Why am I so nostalgic this week?

A tune.

Dee da deeda dee dee da da
Dee da dee da dee da.

For the first time since we've lived in this neighborhood, an ice cream truck has come to our cul de sac. The ice cream truck! Nostalgia on wheels. And one seems to have actually ventured out into the land of the perfect lawn and found us.

The first time, I thought I was hearing things. That insidious melody had to be wishful thinking but then I saw it! The tell-tale white truck with the garrish and gaudy pictures of the most delectable treats plastered over the side. And then, I thought it was a fluke. But it returned the next day and the next. The truck has found a hidden nest of children and will not forget us again.

Taking a stroll down memory avenue

So much of my old neighborhood has changed. Over there is the chic hair salon in the place where Little Things used to be, back when they actually sold little things - doll house furniture, those cute fuzzy mice that wore little costumes, teeny-tiny farm animals...Now Little Things has three stores, one selling clothes and jewelry, one selling trendy "brainy baby" toys, and one selling I don't know what, and none of them are fun to shop in. Here's the weird little jewelry store where the ice cream store used to be. Over there is the Japanese place that used to be a French place that used to be a diner and before that they sold clothes. The realtor that used to be the Purity Diner, the many realtors that used to be actual places you could shop in. The pizza place that used to be Carvel's. The shop that was a newstand until the owner was shot and has since been a long line of failed restaurants. The butchers, the shoe repair shop, the fish market, the deli.

Some other shops have been here forever: The Clay Pot (but didn't they used to be across the street?) The health food store (Back to the Land, they took over the store next door, too.), Zuzu's Petals (it used to be called Growing Things, but it's the same owner. Beautiful plants and flowers.), Tarzian Hardware, the pharmacy on the corner of Garfield, Snooky's Pub, that little grocery store next to the weird defunct bar, Leaf and Bean.

Many of the new stores have the neighborhood rejoicing, some of the ones that are gone will never be mourned.

I wonder if my son will feel this way about our current neighborhood 33 years from now.