Zoe and I are lying in bed, both waking up slowly from a long nap. It’s late in the afternoon, the room is getting dark though the windows are still light. Neither of us speaks for 10 minutes. Maybe 15. Finally Zoe rolls over to face me, thumb still in her mouth, and asks, “Mama? What’s a puffer fish?”
Zoe: Here mama, I brought you some soup (hands me small plastic pot with lid). Me: Oh, thanks Zoe. Let’s go get a spoon and eat it. I looooove soup. Zoe: I know you do mama. I know you love soup. I’m your grandmother.
After school on Monday, Annabel was coming home with us for a lunch date. It’s nice, y’know? You’re three years old. You need a little more mealtime stimulation than moms who only get 2 hours of free time 3 days a week can provide. So Annabel was going to ride with us, and Alice would meet us anon with Phoebe the younger. Normally I drive the Passat, which has an easily-accessible center seatbelt in the back seat. Zoe and Lucy ride in their car seats and Annabel sits in the middle with a regular seatbelt on. (No officer, we’ve never…
I’m so guilty. As many of you may know, I like to draw. In fact, art plays somewhat of a major role in my career based on my bang-my-head-against-a-wall interest in making the world look “nice.” So it may come as a surprise (at least, it has to me) that Zoe and Lucy are not interested whatsoever in making art. It doesn’t matter what medium we try: crayons, paint, pens, magnadoodles, stickers, fingerpainting etc. They entertain my yearning for about 3 minutes tops, then they wander off leaving me to clean up the mess. Even their Ducks from Elmo’s (is…
We recently received a hand-me-down fleece that I love — it’s very bright and stripey — but it may already be too small for Zoe and Lucy. I’ve been trying to get Zoe to try it on for weeks — just try it on — so I can pass it on if necessary. But she refuses every time, no matter what kind of mood she’s in when I ask. Finally tonight I got her to try it on. (Basically it did fit, but the sleeves were a bit short.) “What do you think Zoe?” I ask. “It’s too small. We…
Zoe: Give me that, Lucy! Lucy: No! (Runs away) Zoe: (Chasing after). Give! Me! That! Lucy! Lucy: (Finding herself in a corner). No! Zoe: Yes! (Grabs thing). Lucy: Wait a minute Zoe! (Grabs thing back). What’s the funny word? Zoe: Crocodile. Lucy: Here. (Gives Zoe thing).
So a piece of rope walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a drink. “We don’t serve your kind in here,” says the bartender, gruffly. The rope walks out of the bar. Once outside, he ties himself in a knot. Then he runs his hands ferociously through his hair til it is sticking up in all directions. Then he walks back into the bar. The bartender eyes him suspiciously and asks, “Say, aren’t you that piece of rope that came in here a few minutes ago?” “Nope,” says the rope. “I’m afraid not.” Get it? A frayed knot?…
I just read this article which claims that motherhood, rather than rendering us incompetent, dull-witted and boring, instead makes mothers perceptive, efficient and even socially aware. Apparently women’s cognitive abilities expand within a few weeks of giving birth, thanks to an “estrogen bath” our brains receive during pregnancy. After studying rat mamas, they’ve determined that this flood of hormones enables us to smell poop and stalk prey much faster than virgin rats. All I have to say is try telling this to all those moms who are right now standing in the middle of the kitchen scratching their heads, trying…