Well hello, fair readers. I know, i know: it's been forever. I seem to have written a lot of apologetic posts in the last 6 months, explaining why I've been incommunicado here and there. This is yet another one, but I promise it's the last one you'll have to put up with. It's fall, and I love fall, despite the fact that the ragweed has me sniffling for a couple of weeks. Autumn has always been a time of reinvention for me. Some people reinvent themselves in the summer, a natural because of a childhood spent making changes between school... Continue reading

It's a gorgeous day, 73 degrees and sunny, and we have the windows open to the breeze and the sound of Lake Shore Drive. Frog: "Mommy, I hope another motorcycle does not come by." Me: "Why, 'cause they're so loud?" Frog: "Yes, I am just like you Mommy, I do not like much noise." Me: "Really?" Frog: "Yeah I just like a little tiny bit of noise. Like...I like baseball game noise, but NOT BLENDERS. Okay Mommy?" Me: "Okay, kiddo." Frog: "And not motorcycles." Me: "Got it." Frog: "And sometimes I don't like talking noise, like when people ask me... Continue reading

MacGuyver is still out of town...comes home in two more days. My mother was here for two weeks to take care of Frog, and it was wonderful, with the exception perhaps that my kid now talks non-stop. My mom was an early childhood teacher and she seems to have this effect on children; she spends even a little bit of time with a kid and the kid evolves. Yaya is the grandmother version of the obelisk from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Anyway, she's gone now and it's just me and the little man. You forget, when there are other people... Continue reading

Top Chef is back on, apparently. I'm in an office pool about it, and I picked my names, but I haven't tuned in yet. I think I'm realizing that Top Chef just depresses me, to see these people who can naturally put together flavors...it's not something I'll ever be able to do. So all it does is make me hungry. And getting hungry at 11 o'clock at night is inconvenient and fatterning. So yeah....no Top Chef yet, though I do read the very amusing recaps from the friend who runs the pool. If there's one thing I've learned from Top... Continue reading

Why hello there. Holy shit, you may be thinking, and rightly so. I was just about to delete this bitch from my Google Reader and lo and behold, here she decides to grace us with her presence once more. I should have mentioned I was going on vacation. My bad. As I've mentioned before, MacGuyver does not "allow" (i.e., he strongly suggests that i don't bring) a laptop when we go on vacation. Of course, I was texting madly the entire time (BWAHAHA I can has SMARTPHONE you cannot stop me!!!). Still, though, writing entire blog posts from a phone... Continue reading

You'll THINK you have them trained.... ...and then they bring their friends.... ...and then you have a full scale national disaster on your hands. But still, domestication has its upsides. To wit: Let he who has never wished he could ride a dinosaur, bronco style, cast the first stone.... Continue reading

You know, they say each generation should live better than its parents' generation. I don't know if Frog will have more money than his parents, or be healthier or anything, but holy crap, he's definitely cooler than just about anyone else I know. I kinda wanna be my kid when i grow up. Continue reading

Continue reading

Continue reading

I really do keep encountering inappropriate things. It's not just me. Take this morning's visit to Borders Books: I did not know Hooters Magazine even existed, but I'm pretty sure--despite the lack of an extensive review of its content--that it is not in the same genre as "Family Fun," "Parents," and "Women's Day." Although possibly EveryDay with Rachel Ray, since that one did have a feature on recipes that utilize melons. I can see how you'd get confused. Not to mention the headline above it that says, "50 Things You Can Do With $5." Also: "Magical Birthday Ideas." (By the... Continue reading

The sound of cartoons in the other room, peppered with occasional laughter from my son. Blueberry waffles with pure maple syrup. Bacon. Strong coffee with real cream. 79 degrees. Slightly overcast. Bikes, helmets, trailer stocked with snacks and towels, hats and plastic construction equipment still plastered with sand from the last excursion. Also: a little boy. The lakefront: The harbor, smelling faintly of fish. Dandelions, Queen Anne's Lace. Yellow Butterflies. The smell of chorizo on a grill. The beach: an empty lifeguard station (if not manned on Memorial Day, then when?). Kayaks stacked by the waterline, waiting to be rented:... Continue reading

Continue reading

baby carrot in the water bottle. good times. slightly less hallucinatory, but with more vitamins. (and yes, i know it's a choking hazard, i confiscated it) Continue reading

I am pleased to present the following video of my son dancing, with acknowledgments that said video conforms to several tropes of the "dancing children videos" genre: 1) the child must fall at some point in the film, preferably at the beginning 2) the parent thinks the child is an amazing dancer, despite the fact that the child is most likely only passable (I have no perspective on this because obviously, my child is the best dancer ever. exhibit 1: check out the hip grind towards the beginning, there.) 3) The child must have a charming lack of knowledge that... Continue reading

Oh, LOST. I wish I knew how to quit yew. Oh wait, I don't have to. First, this, from the New Yorker: And then, check out this bit of brilliance, on what has to be the most important word used on the series. I do believe the key to island's secret is contained herein: awesome. Continue reading

(or, "Never Send to Know for Whom the Alarm Clock Tolls, It Tolls for Thee") I try not to say I "hate" things, these days, because it's such a strong sentiment and should really be reserved for worthy objects such as Hitler and yogurt and The Hills. But I have recently added one more acceptable item to that list, the list of things it's okay to hate: my husband's alarm clock. MacGuyver, he sleeps like the dead. We have had smoke alarms go off in the middle of the night and he hasn't heard them. So he has to have... Continue reading

-------------- Original message: -------------- From: momtrolfreak To: Penny So....if you went to a writer's website and it had a typewriter as part of the design, would you think that was obvious and amateurish? I'm thinking maybe i should just go with plain white. Anyway, i guess look at this: Template screenshot. tell me if you think it looks stupid. Also, on my computer the colors are cool but i'm worried with different setting, the lighter color will look girly-pink. Anyway, be honest. typewriter is amateurish, yes? From: Penny To: momtrolfreak Sent: Tue, May 11, 2010 11:50:40 AM Subject: Re: i... Continue reading

Back when I was trying to be vegetarian (and we all know how well that went), part of my plan to turn myself off of meat (meeeeeeeeeeat...awwrlllururawwwrlll) was to watch the documentary "Food, Inc." It turned me off of all food, really, for at least twenty minutes. But I liked what it had to say, so I got the book In Defense of Food and its little sister, the companion piece Food Rules which is basically just a Cliff's Notes for the bigger book. It has one rule per page in a slim volume on which every other page is... Continue reading

Dear IKEA, You almost had me, you Swedish bastards. I hadn’t seen you in over two years, and I’d almost forgotten in that span of time how crazy you make me. Inexplicably drawn by your bright little androgenous stuffed animals, I forget that almost everything you make is so flimsy that it might as well be disposable. You can’t blame me. You see, it was Mother’s Day. I woke up to breakfast in bed and a pretty necklace (from Kohl’s, not diamonds or anything, but picked out by my kid and what’s more, bought two weeks in advance, unheard of... Continue reading

I kind of can't believe my house looks like this. Floors are done. Aquaman is a rock star. Now we're just waiting for kitchen cabinets to arrive from Menard's. LIVING ROOM BEFORE (like, WAY before, before we moved in last fall, with the previous owner's hideous furniture. The bald guy is the seller's realtor. Not a fan. But the POINT is, look at the floors. They are an oak-look laminate. And Aquaman is a carpenter. He could not stand it. "It's a PICTURE of wood!" he would lament.) LIVING ROOM AFTER (the floors are REAL wood, distressed brazilian cherry, that... Continue reading