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free will kicks my butt again

i moved the high chair to the garage today after many failed attempts, over several days, to seat Liv in it. she is against baby things now. i have tried to explain that she looks a little foolish trying to get into and out of a chair by herself, but it's no good.

apparently, what's good enough for Little is good enough for Liv. so noted.

superlative

the best meditation is this: to watch your child fall asleep. not just any child will do, though it's a fine thing to see any small one off to their dreams and quiet. it's part of our routine these days; first i rock Wee to a twilight sleep--that posture of surrender while still stirring softly--then put her gently on her back and close the door. meanwhile Little thumps around collecting her books, and then it's her turn. she reads to me, i read to her, we talk about our day and make up if we've had {m}any regrettable outbursts. she's so forgiving at this hour, so warm and near and wanting to be so. she makes soft clicking sounds with her lips and tongue as she settles under my arm, then gradually rolls into her own space. she's asleep before i think it's possible.

the best sleep: is in the tent in the backyard. happy mother's day to me.

the best mother's day gift in church: is the sweet, edible kind. way to come through for me, pasadena. almost makes up for the hymn i had to lead last week. again we meet around the board...? really? i'm still reeling from that soprano solo. here's a tip. there aren't as many sopranos out there as there are women who think they're sopranos. but i give the people what they want: a show. of buffoonery.

happy mother's day to you.

& happy 300th post, Bimpire!

what 'not tired' looks like

i finally got liv to bed about 20 minutes ago. she went from 90mph to 0 in about 5 seconds, proving what i had suspected, but was still relieved to know: that she was in fact overtired, and not ... {imagined scenario} ... metabolizing a coctail of happy pills she found under the computer desk.

the evidence could have gone either way: shadow boxing, balancing the sippy cup in her teeth {look, no hands!}, shout-singing into empty cups, climbing up pillows and sliding back down on her face, laughing at her own jokes.

i think the highlight for me was when she attempted 30 yoga poses in 30 seconds. it was difficult to balance with all the giggling.

i can't decide which i like better. hyper liv or throw-pillow liv {oh, hi! didn't see you there, plumpy}. both versions are good company.

it's just another morning here

the world is ending. pass it on.

meanwhile, i stare at the babies. if i am looking directly at them when arizona explodes, california breaks apart and falls off of america, and all ocean-dwelling wildlife takes a final, collective, oil-choked breath, i might not notice that i no longer exist.

remember. keep your eyes on the babies.

WANTED: Caption Writer.

have i ever bragged about the time i won the New Yorker cartoon caption contest? only i didn't get recognized *or paid* because someone else hit ENTER first, with the exact same words. do i classify this in my "intellectual triumphs" file, or my "yet to have an original thought" file? still debating.

i'm hosting a caption contest of my own. enter in comments, if you want to play.

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yardwork is my favorite

you can tell that work is really taking over your life when...


:: spending a saturday morning cleaning up the preschool front lawn with your *whole family* seems like an impossible dream.


:: you see your baby tasting berries and think, oh, well. she can digest.


:: the kids then spend the afternoon watching movies so both parents can sit at their respective computers and type furiously. i'd better get back to that.