Mamamama. Translate? I want my blankie

Penny and that damn ducky blankie. Recently, she wants to take it everywhere with her.

For anybody who doesn't have the background. My neighbor gave Carolyn this security blanket when she was born. And she used it.

The problem was, we were worried she would get too attached to it and wanted a backup. But at the time, and even today, this particular blankie can be found on eBay for up to $100. I K-N-O-W.

So I went to Kohl's, bought two identical blankets and made the switch.

Don't ask me why we gave Penny this lone blankie. She didn't use a pacifier. She doesn't like to sleep with her stuffed animals. The only thing she HAS to have every night, and more recently, all the time, is this blanket.

It's disgusting how gross this blankie can get.

I managed to sneak it away from her for a few hours today. I soaked it in some washing soda and it turned the water brown — and not kind of brown but holy crap this water is so brown I can't see my hands — in like 10 seconds.

And here's the kicker. Carolyn changes what she needs to get to sleep. One night it's Pooh. The next it's Jo-Jo. Now it's a drawing book. I don't even think she sleeps with her blankets anymore.

None of this sours the bidding war I just engaged in, and won, for a backup. I paid $23.90. For a blanket that wouldn't cover my knee. That's been used. On eBay.

Cycling for three

I don't know if it's my new bike, the awesome weather or because it gets light here at 4:30, but I got up the other morning at 6 a.m. to go for a bike ride. I know. Seriously weird.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I got up to take Fife for a walk, but I asked him and he ran into the bedroom to return to sweet, sweet dreamland. What kind of dog does that?

Here's my new post of Gristmill. It's all about my new awesome, awesome bike.

Carolyn — keeper of the hats

I was having a pretty rough morning. I won't bore you with all the whiny, spoiled details but I will say that the girls and Steve were the not the culprits of said adjectives.

But after Steve left for work, I was all set to take the girls out on their first bike ride with my new, pretty bike and new, super-cool kid trailer. The problem was I couldn't find both helmets for the girls.

After like 15 minutes of looking, I just sat down on the kitchen floor and cried a little. Carolyn, in all her more-grown-up-than-mom wisdom, got out of the carrier and went and found the helmet for me.

And yes... I felt like an ass.

So here's some pictures of Carolyn in her new garage-sale, cowgirl hat. At 75 cents, worth every cent, but not every Penny. Ha.. See what I just did there?

Six years... and counting

Today Steve and I celebrate six years of wedded bliss weddedness. Kidding of course. The only thing we wonder, since we've been married six years but together for eight, was the seven year itch last year or do have another year to go before we get all itchy?

Anyhow, for our sixth year we decided to go garage sale shopping. I KNOW... Romantic, right! Anyhow, our black car, which we are selling, has decided to give us a little shifting problem lately. Sometimes it's hard to get the car from, say, drive to reverse.

So we saw this sale on a busy street and needed to turn around. Steve picked the one driveway of the hundred or so we passed in which the owner was backing out. And it just so happens he couldn't get the car in reverse.

In a moment of panic, Steve yells, "Use your feet." So we're literally pushing the car into the street with our feet while the owner slowly backs out of his garage toward us. I assume he was wondering what kind of Flintstone-esque car we were driving because I wondered that myself.

"That's enough," Steve said as we rolled halfway into the street. "No wait. A little more."

We finally get the hell out of there, laughing our heads off. Carolyn is in the back yelling at us, "You woke up Penny."

Yep. We sure did.

So here's to Steve and I and at least another six. At that point, the kids will be old enough to understand that they're the reason we're splitting up.

Late-night munchies

I don't keep junk food in the house. Of course, it's mostly because I don't want the girls to eat crap. That I want them to know a healthy lifestyle. Yada, yada.

But I also do it because sometimes I get really hungry at night and I don't want to be tempted by a huge bag of Doritos. Mmmmm. Doritos.

Mostly, it works pretty well. But you might be interested to know that melba toast dipped in blue cheese dressing is pretty disgusting, yet surprisingly filling.

It's the price I pay.

Awkward

A few months ago, I wrote a book proposal about green parenting. While it was not accepted by any of the four agents who read it, they did have some good feedback and advice. One of them told me I should start a Web site, which I'm considering because I'd like to gather all my information in one place and Steve said he'd like to learn to design Web pages.

It would be good practice.

So I suggested to Steve we take our own clip art, which would be generic pictures of whatever I was writing about. The problem is, clip art needs to be very sharp and my camera pretty much blows. As do my photography skills.

So onto awkward. Today, I'm trying unsuccessfully to take some pictures in the backyard. I'm laying on the ground getting photos of the line drying. I'm holding a little basil seedling up to a white towel trying to get a shot of it.

So my neighbor, who appears out of nowhere, says, "So, whatya doing?"

Being weird. Freaking out the neighborhood. Ignoring my kids.

I stammered something about clip art, to which she nodded and walked on. It's really a wonder I don't have more friends.

Summer girls

I'm writing a story about how families keep in touch with new technology and the lady I'm interviewing posts like a billion pictures of her kids every week. I'd like to remind my family that while it's true there are moms out there blogging more photos than me, I am still doing a very good job — VERY good — at keeping everybody informed.

So no grief this week, especially since it's true. The stroller's gone. Anyhow, in lieu of my guilt, here's something to keep you happy for a few days.

Mother's Day revisited

Despite the missing stroller wheel. Despite the unsold car. Despite the toddler who recently refuses to go to bed and instead screams to the point of almost throwing up.

I had the best Mother's Day ever.

Steve, unshaken by my breakdown at the park after the stroller incident, let me sleep in, never lost his temper from my completely irrational foul mood and cooked me the most delicious dinner of shrimp and steak. He took the girls out the day before, helped them make me mother's day cards and bought me some "all natural" lotions, one of which Carolyn picked out and smells like lemon icebox pudding.

And, he bought me the new Tori Amos CD. He hates Tori Amos.

Sometimes, when you're little girl screams because she doesn't want to go to bed, or her sister pinches you because you won't let her dance on the dining room table, you might think motherhood isn't cut out for you. But then you realize how much they love you, and how much you love them, and the constant need to sweep the dining room floor doesn't seem as important.

I am truly lucky.

Happy Mother's Day

Walking home from ice cream today, a couple of women in a seemingly meaningful, teary embrace stopped their tender moment to get out of our way. Penelope's post-ice cream screams were reminiscent of a fire engine, clearing the way for our head-hung family to pass.

Just a few minutes later, the wheel of my beloved stroller fell off. Plop. One second I had four wheels. The next – three.

And I cried over this stroller, which I am in love with, as though I had lost a friend. And in a sense, I had. The stroller allows me to walk miles, clearing my thoughts and frustrations and problems. And now, it's missing a wheel, although Steve thinks he might have fixed it (fingers crossed).

This fiasco-like problem comes on the heels of the rude backing out from the guy who was going to buy our car (after we took it off the market two weeks ago) and the possibility that the bike buying will get put on hold.

I think sometimes that karma is not on my side, despite my best intentions. Maybe I should say screw karma and buy an SUV and throw fast food bags out the window as I pass a nature preserve. But with my luck, karma would start paying attention to me then.

My Little Sony

Penelope loves to play with electronic stuff. More than once I've found her on top of the kitchen table trying to get at the computer.
And her favorite thing to do is open the DVD player, close it and press play. Thank goodness we hide our snuff films. The other day, Penny was playing with a My Little Pony book Carolyn got from the library.
She walked over to the DVD player, opened it and tried to shove the book inside. She knows what she wants.

Why I love Nora Ephron

So maybe I don't understand the baby boomer's obsession with growing older, or rather, the mad fight to not grow older. At the very least, Nora Ephron is honest about it, and funny to boot.

A few months ago, I decided to let my gray grow out. I started going gray in my early 20s and have been dying my hair since before I had a driver's license. And this next quote from the New York Times Magazine by Ms. Ephron makes me love her even more.

Do you think a woman can ever look better with gray hair? Gray hair looks great when you’re about 34.

In a few months, when I turn 34, all my gray will be in and I'll finally be able to see what my hair really looks like. And just in time for Vegas.

Nora better not have lied to me.

I think I might have killed Fife

It's a sure sign you're a really crappy dog owner when the mailman, the dog's greatest nemesis, stops to tell you your dog looks really beat.

But I had been crammed inside with these too demon children (just kidding, kind of) all day because of rain and it's Friday, which means mommy needs some time alone, so when a break in the storms came through, I was all about getting outside.

Trouble was, it was so nice I just kept walking and walking and walking, until I noticed two things simultaneously: It was about to start raining again and Fife couldn't walk any more than 100 feet at a time without laying down. All this a half mile from home.

We made it. It was never really going to rain. It just looked like it. And I gave Fife some medicine and treats when we got home and he seems to be fine. I bet he even sleeps good tonight.

And just a note. I'm writing this without the use of a left shift key. i knew you'd be impressed.