One Mom's Faves from 2008

OK, so this isn't so much a typical mom blog entry, but it seems fitting that approaching the end of the year, I give a shout out to some of my "favorites" from 2008. Maye you'll share in my sentiments.

Favorite Song of the Year: "Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg
I think that possibly...Maybe I'm falling for you...YesThere's a chance... that I've fallen quite hard over you.

Favorite Movie of the Year: "Mamma Mia!" Sheer silliness set to ABBA music. What's not to love? And hey, it does have Mamma in the title. If you haven't seen it, watch it with a girlfriend. Leave the hubbies/sig others at home. They won't get it.

Favorite Book of theYear: "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult. OK, this book was published in 2007, but I didn't read it till this year. Absolutely riveting for every one of its 455 pages. Every mom's worst nightmare comes true - there's been a mass shooting at a small town high school. Told from the perspective of the students, the parents, police, lawyers, and judges, the story brilliantly explores the characters' inner thoughts, motives and turmoils. Most interesting for the moms out there are the stories told from one of the victim's mothers, also a judge assigned to the case, and the story as told from the killer's mother. I'm thrilled to know that Picoult has penned about 15 other novels for me to read.

Favorite Moment of the Year: Too many to count, but saying "I will" to my new husband and telling him we were expecting a baby have to top the list.

Favorite Mom Moment of the Year: Again, too many to count, but watching Lily run into the shoreline waves at Cape Cod, shriek when the cold water hit her toes and run back out on the sand has to be one of the best.

The Dangers of Napping

Twas the day after Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Except Lily...of course

And I in my t-shirt
And P.Daddy in his Cubs cap
Had just settled down
for a brief winter's nap

When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed
To see what was the matter

And what to my wondering
eyes should appear
But a buck naked Lily
Skipping 'round with the reindeer.

Ok, so it was the dogs, not reindeer, but if you can write a better verse, please send it along and I'll substitute that in.

Yep, stark nekkid, skipping around in the grass quite merrily. My eyes quickly darted from one neighbor's yard to the other, but as far as I could tell, no one else had spotted the little miscreant. Thank goodness we live in Texas and it was another 70 degree December day.

And so now I'll bemoan my latest parental failure, napping whilst my child was not, but for goodness sake, the child hardly sleeps at alll at night. Is it too much to ask that she too close her eyes once in a blue moon during the day?

For Moms Everywhere

This is a must see. Thanks to Maria for forwarding.
http://vimeo.com/1509073?pg=embed&sec=1509073

Gay Bars and Alternative Drug References

Betcha I got your attention with this title. Not what you'd expect for a mom blog, huh? But to the points at hand.

I'm not sure I would have anticipated this so early in Lily's life, but she visited her first gay bar this weekend.

Now before you pick the phone to call Department of Children and Family Services, let me explain.

The bar, Austin's Rainbow Cattle Company, was the site of a private dance party to celebrate her friend Audrey's 5th birthday party. It was actually a fabulous idea and venue for a party, especially in contrast to the Chuck'E'Cheese birthday special. Give the kids a huge open space to run amok in and burn off energy, and presto, your child falls asleep by 8 p.m. I can't even REMEMBER the last time Lily went to sleep that early. Of course, it had its downside since I was asleep by 8:30 p.m. Sigh.

Back to the birthday party. Interestingly enough, I think the music selection for the 5-year olds wasn't all that different from what the club probably plays on an ordinary night - "YMCA" and "It's Raining Men" among the headline songs. Hmmmm...

Now on to the drugs....

Lily has been very helpful of late coming up with naming suggestions for the baby. Her suggestions invariably follow three rules. She picks a pair of names - one for a boy, and one for a girl. The names typically aren't real names, and the pair of names rhyme. Some of her past nominations include "Cammy"/"Clammy" and "Wally/Dolly." So yesterday, Lily, P. Daddy and I are sitting at a restaurant eating lunch, when Lily decides to nominate more names. This is what she said, and I swear I'm not making it up.

"Maui. What about Maui? Maui Wowie! Yeah!"

P. Daddy and I busted out laughing so hard, we had restaurant patrons asking us what was so funny.

As did Lily. "Why are you laughing?"

"We'll tell you in a few years, Lil..."

Christmas Countdown

"Christmas, Christmas time is near, Time for toys and time for cheer."

Name that Christmas tune. I'll give you a hint. It's not one of Bing Crosby's.

Lily could tell you. It's the trademark song by Alvin and the Chipmunks.

So while everyone else, including retailers and ABC Family television, has officially begun their countdowns to Christmas, I myself will be counting exactly how many times I will have to listen to that song between now and the big day. I guarantee it will be A LOT MORE than 25 times.

Not to sound like a Scrooge. I adore Christmas, as I do most holidays, and revel in the hoopla, the food, the decorations and the music as much or more than most people. It's been particularly fun the last couple years, as Lily's awareness of and interest in the holiday has deepened.

There's the wonderful magic when you see the gleam in her eye and hear the cackle in her voice when she sees Santa Claus, especially when only two years ago she was frightened of the big guy. Then there's the pondering in my mind when I see her strap the baby Jesus from the nativity set on top of the donkey. Do I tell her to put it back in the manger or just be glad she's interested in the Christmas story at all?

This year has a built in bonus for me as well. Being pregnant, I figure I can get away with drinking GALLONS of egg nog. Baby likes the nog!

But, as the song goes, 'Please Christmas, don't be late,' because I won't want to wait even one day more to stuff the Alvin CD back in its case until next season.

Bring Back the '70's!

I'm feeling wistful and nostalgic these days. I long for the days of yore, or at least the movie days of yore. Any by "yore," I just want to turn the clock back a few decades.

Last week Peter and I took Lily to see the Disney flick "Beverly Hills Chihuahua." It wasn't insufferable (at least not completely), and it was heads and shoulders above Dreamworks' entry "Kung Fu Panda," perhaps one of the worst movies ever made and a strikingly bad choice for Dustin Hoffman.

But clearly Disney has past its prime.

I think it's saying something when my favorite scene in BH Chi goes something like this:

Chloe (title character voiced over by Drew Barrymore.) - "I am a Chihuahua. Chihuahuas are mighty!"

Delgado (a German shepherd voiced over by Andy Garcia.) - "Yeah...mighty annoying."

Pixar, Disney's animation studios, has clearly eclipsed its parent company in recent years, putting out some fairly decent flicks like Monsters, Inc., Finding Nemo, and the recent Wall-E.

But it's increasingly rare to find children's films these days that match the zany, madcap comedy of "The Apple Dumpling Gang," or "The Love Bug," or "The Shaggy DA." Give me a sweet romance like "The Little Mermaid" or "Lady and the Tramp." And there's few films that match the classic feel good style and musical panache of "Mary Poppins."

Now THOSE were the days.

And speaking of music, "BH Chi" has much to be said for it in the music department as well. They have one original song that I sort of recall, "Chew-wa-wa, Chew-wa-wa" but it's largely forgettable. The rest of the soundtrack relies on covers like George Thoroughgood's "Bad to the Bone" (pun intended), Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy," (remember that one?) and the token song by a Latino group, Los Lonely Boys' "Heaven."

Token to Carrie Bradshaw coming...

I can't help but wonder, "What would Walt think?"

So I'll wait, with baited breath and enduring hope, that Disney's upcoming "Bolt" will represent a return to the days of yore.

But I'm not placing any bets on it.

And now that I've waxed nostalgic, I think I'll go soak my dentures and sit in my rocking chair for a while.

Pregnancy Dance, Round II

12 weeks into my first trimester, and thankfully, almost out of it, I can say without a doubt that this pregnancy is nothing like the first one.

With Lily, I glided, even sashayed, through pregnancy. Aside from my conspiuously growing belly, I daresay everything else remained as normal. I was not bedridden with morning sickness, had only the rare bout of heartburn, and my feet didn't even start swelling til the final, final weeks.

This go around, I feel decidely more....well, pregnant.

Exhaustion, check. Smell aversions, check. Heartburn, check. Shortness of breath attributable to increased progesterone (sp?) levels, check. Round ligament pain, check. Check, check, check.

All I can say is baby keeps acting up this way, it's aiming for a name it will detest for the entirety of its life.

Something like Bertha.

Or Maynard.

I'm open to other evil naming suggestions, so here's your chance. Let me know what name you think a child would least like to be saddled with. If anything else, it should make for some good laughs.

Star Wars - The Second Generation

So yesterday Lily announces to me that Yoda is her favorite Star Wars character. Never mind that her ONLY exposure to Star Wars has been a single themed birthday party she attended. At least as far as I know. Who knows what P. Daddy lets her watch on TV when I'm out of town? :)
So I asked her WHY she like Yoda, and she told me, "Because he's the crunchy green boy." Gotta love kids' responses to questions sometimes.

Amputated Bovine and Horses Named Harley

Isn't it ironic that the more content you have to write about for a blog the less time you have to do it?


A friend of mine mentioned the other day that my blog was a bit, ahem, "stale", so I'm trying to make amends. What can I say - I've been busy!



Between Lily's birthday and Halloween, late October is a flurry of activity. And in case you were wondering whether a newly-turned 5-year-old was aware that Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner, I can affirm that- they are. Or at least Lily is aware. Less than 24 hours after collecting 3.2379 pounds of candy (approximately) while trick or treating, her mind has already ventured forward to the upcoming holidays.



Me on the other hand, well, I want to take a break from thinking about the holidays. At least for a week or so. And the new olive green, soft, supple leather Michael Kors purse I splurged on yesterday just might help keep my mind elsewhere for a while. :)


But I digress.


So yes, we had the milestone 5-year birthday last week. Hey, they are all milestones at this age, right?


More than three hours before the party start time, Lily began asking every 15 minutes when her "customers" would arrive. No amount of correcting her and telling her they were her "guests," not customers, could get her to use the right word. I'm not sure what the use of that word bodes for her future. Hmmm....


I opted for an at home "down on the farm" themed party, complete with Pin the Tail on the Donkey, Moo-sical Chairs, a cow pinata and even pony rides. I went into the party thinking an at home party would be both easier and cheaper than renting out one of the myriad of children's party venues. I ended up wrong on both counts, but if I do say so myself, it was a raving success. It was not just a party, it was a PAHHHHHH-TY!!!!!

Without going into a ton of detail, I'll just let some of the pictures tell the story.





Lily in her birthday ballerina outfit

On one of the ponies. This one wasn't Harley, but I forget its name.

The cow pinata (with missing leg)

Lily with her birthday cupcake tower

And yes, completely un-birthday related - this shot's from Halloween obviously - but Lily finally got her tail. (See blog entry Feb. 27).

It's the Great Pumpkin, Lily Lee!

Yesterday, I woke up with as much anticipation as I had in a long time, eager to drop Lily off at school where she would then embark on her first-ever field trip. To the pumpkin patch no less.

I then whiled away the long hours at work, equally eager to arrive home and have Lily regale me with the tales of her great adventure. I pictured her brimming with excitement, running out to the car with her treasured pumpkin in hand, grinning from ear to ear, and rambling on about how "e'siting" her day had been.

I was wrong.

"So Lily, tell Mommy all about your field trip!"

"Well, we went on the bus, and then we went to the punkin' patch, and then we came back."

Maybe she just needs some prompting, I thought.

"So how was the bus ride?" I asked.

"Good." This from the child who yearned to ride the bus almost as soon as she could pronounce the word.

"Who did you ride with on the bus?"

"Clara."

"So what exactly did you do when you got to the pumpkin patch?"

"Well, we walked around, and Jacob's daddy (or maybe it was Elijah, Evan or Devon's daddy) picked up the pumpkin for me."

At this point, Lily has concluded her end of the conversation and walked away.

Indelible impression the field trip was not. And here I thought the trip was going to be a big milestone, and the ensuing conversation would result in an idyllic moment of mother-daughter bonding.

I guess I'll have to wait for the next opportunity, I thought. Then Lily returned.

"Jacob's daddy (again, or Elijah, Evan or Devon's daddy) said good cookers can make a pumpkin pie. Can we make a pumpkin pie?"

"Yes Lily, we can."

Cute Kid Quip #3 (or maybe #4 or #5)

So this morning, Lily is helping stir the soon-to-be-scrambled eggs in the pan and pronounces, "We're making scribbled eggs!" Interesting perspective.

Trash or Treasure

There's nothing like cleaning out a toy chest that will make a child decide that a long-forgotton, dirty, broken toy that they haven't touched in months (or even years) is the absolute BEST TOY EVER.

Or so I learned yesterday when I decided to undertake that particular project in anticipation of a slew of new toys arriving in the form of birthday presents.

The ratty old pink stuffed poodle with the missing eyes and the nose mangled worse than Michael Jackson's thanks to a certain dog named Pokey? Trash, I thought. But no. Lily spotted it and immediately caressed and cooed over it like it was her first-born child.

The lopsided, 10 cent, orange plastic sunglasses that were so scratched you couldn't see two feet in front of you if you wore them? Trash again, me thinks. But Lily promptly dons them where they sit askew on their nose and struts about like a Beverly Hills diva. Marc Jacobs sunglasses, these are not.

Then there was the non-functioning, uncapped pen from the bottom of the toy bin. Me: Doesn't work, toss it out. Lily: Said pen was topped by a blooming fake flower and of course is destined for a second life. I'm not sure, but I think she may have tried to plant it.

But along with each of these less delightful moments was a truly delightful moment where Lily re-discovered some long lost toy treasure. Like the bead your own necklace kit that led to some creative mom/daughter bonding time, the magnetic fish puzzle that lets her work her hands and her mind, and a host of other toys that kept her PLAYING all day. Not watching TV, not sitting at her computer, not pummeling Pete and Mom with endless questions. Just playing.

Now that was a true treasure.

Mom's gone? Really?

So I departed yesterday morning for a 4 1/2 day work trip. And nearly two days and three phone calls into the trip, my daughter has yet to say more than "Hi Mom" (not even a HI MOM!!!) to me on the telephone. Seems "Old McDonalds" and miscellaneous other attractions hold more appeal to her at this point.

I assumed there would be some communication walls to break down when she was about 14, but at 4?! Can't she just miss me a wee bit more?

I'm not going to deal very well when she goes off to college, am I?

Shhhh.....

I will freely admit that the posting you're about to read is a shameless attempt for me to find out who of my friends is really reading my blog, as it's deliberatedly designed to elicit a response. So here goes...

Lily is going to be a big sister.

Yep, found out 10 days ago, managed to keep the big news secret for 6 days, and told Peter (henceforth: P. Daddy) on his birthday. And he thought proposing to me on his birthday a year ago was a big surprise! Well, I got him back - in spades!

P. Daddy is jubilant. Lily's response was a bit more moderated, but safe to say she is intrigued by the possibilities.

I am most intrigued by my due date - May 26 - which means I could slide in just under the wire and push this kid out before I turn 40 on May 27. At least that's MY GOAL.

Now, I just need to find one of those "Big Sister" shirts for Lily.

The Big One

4 years, 10 months, 25 days.

The BIG DAY finally arrived. I anticipated and dreaded it at the same time. What if it all went horribly wrong? Would I break out in tears or break out in a sweat? After this day, things would never be quite the same again. Was I ready? Was she ready?

The BIG DAY was the day of Lily's first hair cut. You heard me right, the very first hair cut.

Yes, I probably thought about this day for as long and as much as I thought about my 30th birthday. Which I started thinking about when I was, oh, about 28 years old. And yes, I've probably spent a good two years or more thinking about Lily's first hair cut as well.

I'd finger her hair, letting my hands trail through her curly-Qs and think "I'm NEVER going to cut it." I'd remember that awful pixie cut I got when I was five years old (sorry Mom) and think, "I'm never going to cut it." I'd hear strangers in the grocery store tell me how beautiful she was and think, "I'm never going to cut it."

But then there were the days where she'd trot off to school looking like some wild creature from the forest because she wouldn't let me put anything in her hair to hold it back and I'd think, "I really ought to cut it." And I'd look at the stack of 21 different combs in her bathroom drawer - each an attempt to find one that could actually make its way through her snarled tangles - and I'd think, "I really ought to cut it."

I even went so far as to purchase the matching "My First Curl" and "My First Tooth" engraved keepsake boxes eons ago, but then they sat gathering dust in the front closet shelf.

And when it was all over, it was - well, it was really quite like any other day. (I can't say the same about my 30th birthday since that marked the date of my arrival in Austin, Texas!) Lily was incredibly well-behaved and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the entire process. I survived as well. So I got all worked up for nothing and I probably gave myself even more gray hairs for my trusted hairstylist to cover up. (Vicki - shhhhhh!)

And even though Lily probably gave up two inches of her hair, considering her hair is - scratch that - WAS 18 inches long, you can't even really tell by looking at it.

So now that that's over, I guess I can go on to fretting about other things.

Like when she'll be old enough to get that little patch of hair between her eyebrows waxed.

"Jinx"

So moments ago, Lily was delaying her bedtime process by insisting on applying lotion to every square inch of her body - and applying said lotion at a rate of one square inch at a time. Peter comments on her dawdling, to which she replies in a sing-song voice, "I know dawdling." And in a perfectly-timed example of marital/parental unity, Peter and I both respond, "Yes, you do." Synchronized sighs follows.

Bragging Rights and Art

Lest this blog title mislead anyone, let me first start with a disclaimer: In no way will I be bragging about my artistic ability, since said ability ranks somewhere around -2147483647 on a scale of 1-10.

But I have been feeling pretty proud of myself (read: smug) of late for at least one maternal skill I possess en masse. OK, maybe it's not so much a skill as an....well, I digress. Let me get straight to the point. Whatever other motherly faults can be attributed to me, one thing that I do dang well is chronicle Lily's childhood.

Photo albums are threatening to take over the bookcases in the living room; I've actually kept up with the baby book beyond her first 30 days on earth; I kept a (non-online) journal the first year of her life; I write this blog; I purchased her "first tooth" and "first hair locket" keepsakes years ago - even though neither has been used as of yet; I save birthday cards, programs and tickets from the circus and "Sesame Street Live"; and I even have a tape recording of her making delicious gurgling and babbling sounds when she was a baby.

Whether or not Lily will even WANT all this memorabilia when she's older is a moot point in my opinion. Better that she not want it and I have it then she want it and I don't. Any anyway, I have fun doing it.

So all this is just a big lead in (WARNING: promotional plug coming) for a fantastic new site I've discovered that combines my love to chronicle with my other pet passion - to organize something! It's a Web-based company that will digitize all your child's artwork and preserve it forever in a wonderful keepsake photo book. Forget about the glue coming off the artwork in years, or the originals getting ripped, stained or eaten by the dog. I'm not kidding on that last point - think of how many kids' art projects contain elbow macaroni. And at in least one instance of Lily's work, goldfish crackers. This solution takes care of all those contingencies. Now I'm still waiting for my final order, so I may be a bit premature in lavishing praise on the site, but the product samples online look fantastic. I can't wait to get my book. Check it out yourself if your interested. The URL is www.thepicassokid.com.

Now only if I hadn't sent in my order to The Picasso Kid before I read my friend Susie's blog http://constantlyrelocating.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2008-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-07%3A00&updated-max=2009-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=50 and saw her reference to another cool Web site that lets you make free form art out of words. http://wordle.net/. Because the word art would have made a wonderful entry in the Picasso Kid. But I did place the order - oh well - and first I have to (read: Peter has to) figure out how to enable Java applets on my work computer anyway.

Birthday Tunage

So I came across this Web site last night that tells you what the #1 song in the country was on the day you were born. http://www.joshhosler.biz/numberOneInHistory/selectMonth.htm Just for kicks, I looked up the results for me, Peter and Lily.

On the day Lilybug was born, the numero uno tune was "Baby Boy" by Beyonce. Well, the title may not have been spot on, but it was close.

On my birthday, the Beatles held the top spot on the charts with "Get Back." I couldn't help but wonder if that was a message to me to get back into Mom's womb.

And on Peter's birthday, the song was none other than Barry McGuire's "Eve of Destruction." 'Nuf said. :)

Pokey and Sam, meet Annabelle

So Peter is officially THE BEST DAD EVER. "Why?" you may ask. I'll tell you why. The other day Lily announced to Pete that she wanted a doggy. Never mind that she has two already. Well, we spend enough on dog food already, so Peter came up with an alternative. He proceeds to get out one of his tube socks, four of Lily's little socks, and cuts out pieces of his ratty-tatty Ice Bats shirt that I was trying to get him to get rid of just the other day. Then he stuffs practically an entire roll of TP into the tube sock, and asks me where the sewing kit is. I dig it up and blow the dust off it. (Sorry Mom, I TOLD you I wasn't planning to actually use the sewing kit. But I DID know where it was.) Then, this wonderful man actually begins sewing. He sews Lily's socks on the bigger tube sock to make legs, he sews the ratty Ice Bat shirt pieces on to make ears and a tongue, and he sews buttons on for eyes. He finishes by tying the end of the tube sock to fashion a tail, and dons a maroon mesh ribbon on it. Presto, a new doggy for Lily. Which she promptly names Annabelle. Now just how many men do you know that would do that?! OK, there's probably a few, but this particular sewing god belongs to Lily and me. And we're awfully lucky to have him.


P.S. Bonus - the ratty tatty shirt is now tucked in the trash. Yea!

Lullaby...and Good Night

The other night, Pete walks into the bedroom and asks me, "How's your pipes?" I was puzzled, wondering briefly if he'd spotted a leak in the kitchen or bathroom, when he then clarified and said he was speaking of my singing voice. Lily it seemed, had requested me to sing lullabies. I asked him why he couldn't sing her lullabies, and he CLAIMED he didn't know all the words. Yeah, sure... In any event, Lily was camped out, or camped "in" as it were, in her giraffe tent in the living room. So after dispensing with a couple of lullaby standards, I decided to take advantage of the computer proximity and surf for music videos of real singers singing drowsy diddies. A few clicks later, and Harry Connick was crooning "Edelweiss" to The Bug. Mid-song, she piped up. "Mommy, I like it when YOU sing lullabies better." No, I couldn't have heard that right, could I? At its worst, my singing voice is screechy. Even at its best, it's still off tune. She couldn't possibly choose my voice over Connick's smooth, satiny vocals, could she? But she did. You know the old saying, "Has a face only a mother could love." Well, I have a voice only a child could love. But love it she does, inexplicable though that might be. And with those sweet words, I too, got a good night's sleep.

Art Appreciation

Luck fell upon Lily and me today, as my fellow working-mom friend April had the day off and we arranged a playdate with her son Rex. (I cannot get Lily back to school and among her fellow 4- and 5-year-olds fast enough, lemme tell ya). In any event, April suggested we take advantage of free museum day in Austin and head out to the renown Blanton Museum of Art. The start of the museum jaunt was extremely auspicious, as there was a sculpture (of sorts) outside that resembled spaghetti hanging to dry.





The spaghetti invited people to run through it gleefully, not unlike a human car wash, so of course it was a magnet for the kids. Thus began Lily's cultural education. Then we went inside.
There was a nice temporary exhibit on Japanese prints, not that I saw much of that since Lily decided at that point in time she had to make her once-a-day potty run. There was also a lovely European painting section that held almost no interest for the kids. Also a Greek plaster cast exhibit (ditto). But much of the museum is occupied with contemporary modern art, both of the painted and 3D, multi-medium variety. All I know is when it comes to modern art, I just don't get most of it. Lily summed it up even better, I thought. Roaming into one of the galleries, she said, "Look, a room full of scribble scrabble!" Gotta love it.

No Bed Bugs Here

It's 8:14 p.m. on Sunday, and I am sitting, exhausted already, on Lily's bed, with an even more exhausted Lily breathing deeply three feet away. I could escape now, but for some odd reason I don't. "Odd" may be a bit of an understatement, since solitude is something I've craved nearly all day, but it's not once presented itself. No, it's been a day that's been filled with even more "Momma, momma, momma"s than usual. "Do this, do that, I want this, I need that." Silence, even momentary, seems a long forgotten memory. I am ever so grateful it's a weekend and Peter's not on call, and he's handled more than his share of the umpteen requests this day. But now I sit beside her, oh so very aware that her body is just recharging itself for another round of "Pummel the Parents" tomorrow. But she's so still right now; the only movement is that of her belly rising and falling with her breath. I'm happy that in spite of all the energy and emotion she exudes during the day, she can still find peace at night. She may be almost 5, but is sleeping the sleep of a baby, completely unemcumbered by what the world (...and I) throw at her. And that gives me peace as well. So I think I'll stay here and soak it all in a while longer.

It's All in the Numbers

So today, en route to Westgate Lanes for Lily's first-ever bowling game, she was apparently remineiscing about the beach trip. "It took 6 days to get to Gammy's house," she said. "No," I began correcting her, "it took two days to get to Gammy's house." Her logic train uninterrupted, she promptly reminded me that it took 4 days to get to the beach and 2 days to get to Gammy's from the beach. Hence, 6 days. I was so bowled over (pun intended) by her obviously astounding memory that I failed to notice my 1+1+1+1 year old had just completed a MATH equation. And done it correctly, at that. Lily left the number 6 in the dust just a short time later after completing her 10 frames with a whopping score of 34. Nearly twice the score that her mother achieved during her first bowling game. Yes, I still remember my score of 19 points at the Girl Scout Father-Daughter bowling day. It was enough to capture the 2nd place trophy, and Dad's 200 points had nothing to do with it. But back to Lily. Numbers weren't just on my brain today - they were on hers as well. As proven when we were driving back and the jingle came on for the local radio station. Then, what to my wondering ears did hear, but the sound of the radio and one tiny rein....no that doesn't work. But I did in fact hear the jingle on the radio, accompanied by a wee little voice in the backseat. "Mix, 94.7...."

The Sleepover

After returning to Austin following our summer sojourn, Lily was, shall I say, a mite eager to play with some of her friends. I rack my brain, thinking which of her friends might actually be home on a weekday, and come up with the little girl down the street - Priyanka. Scroll through phone book, dial Priyanka's mom Deepa, and yea for all, Priyanka is available to play. I walk Lily down the street, and leave her happily esconced in Priyanka's backyard. Two hours and a trip to the pool with Lily and Priyanka later, the two princesses have colluded and have somehow managed to convince both Deepa and I that they are ready for a sleepover. The event planning for the sleepover is less complicated than the wedding planning, but only slightly. But finally all the details are in place. Fast forward four hours, and Lily and I begin the second walk of the day to Priyanka's house. Lily is happily attired in her pajamas and carrying a backpack carrying the essentials - panties, toothbrush, teddy bear. Or maybe it was the stuffed sea lion, I don't remember. I haul the sleeping bag. Arrive at Priyanka's - last minute reminder to Lily to behave, hugs, kissses, and I depart without a fuss. Maybe this will work out after all. Peter and I start making bets on how long this sleepover will last. I say 11:15 p.m. He takes the under. Peter wins. At 9:43 p.m., I am summoned back to Priyanka's house. Lily tripped over her puzzle, got an invisible boo-boo on her knee, and despite the medical administrations of Deepa (an M.D. by the way, not just a mere mortal mom), she decides she wants to come home. Pack up sleeping bag and backpack, walk Lily back home with Priyanka wailing in the background at Lily's departure. Deepa agree to try the sleepover again sometime - as in sometime after the girls turn 6. The milestone still awaits.

Favorite Memories of Cape Cod

One day left on Cape Cod, and I'm happy to say we'll be taking many happy memories back with us. Most of the people I've met here seem to be "regulars," coming back season after season. And I can understand why. This place has a way of getting under your skin - in a good way. I hope to be back soon - with Peter next time. Until then, here's just a few of my favorite memories to tide me over til the next visit. Seeing a humpback whale dive into the water, it's enormous tail arcing gracefully before disappearing beneath the water. Hearing Lily go "wheee" on the slide at the playground.




Grilled swordfish, lobster rolls, fried scallops, clam chowder. And whoopie pies.







Hearing Lily sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame at the Chatham A's home games.







Looking up a the enormous sand dunes from Cahoon Hollow Beach in Wellfleet.







Hearing Lily say "I want to do that again!" moments after completing the Pirate's Adventure boat ride in Hyannis.







Watching the seals play off the Chatham fish pier.







Hearing Lily ask "Mommy, will you build a sand castle with me?" at Oyster Pond Beach.







Picknicking and dancing on the blanket at the Chatham band concerts on Friday nights.







Hearing Lily say "I won!" after a game of Go Fish, Old Maid, or the newly acquired Ladybug game.







Playing paddle ball, tag, hide & seek and tumbling in the lawn.







Hearing Lily say, "Good Mommy, you listen very well" after she leads a game of Simon Says.







The graceful, genteel mansions of Newport, Rhode Island.







Hearing Lily cackle with glee when the ferry to Nantucket pounded over the (very) choppy Atlantic Ocean.







Riding bikes on the Cape Cod Rail Trail.







Hearing Lily cackle and go "Eeeee!" after dipping her toes into the crashing surf at Lighthouse Beach.







The panoramic water view outside the window at the carriage house.







Hearing Lily say "That was fun!" after getting off the pony carriage ride at the Green Animals children's party.







Chipmunks.







Hearing Lily say, "Ice cream, ice cream" when the ice cream truck arrived at the beach.







The sound of screen doors slamming.







Hearing Lily say "You finish this part" (referring to her melting ice cream so she could indulge in the cone.





Putt-putt golf





Hearing Lily say, "Will you help me find a friend?" at the beach and playground.






Watching all sorts of wonderful Disney/kids movies, incuding "The Aristocats", "Madeleine," "Eloise," "Benji" "Lilo and Stitch," "The Muppet Movie" and "Air Bud." There was of course, one forgettable movie at the theater - "Kung Fu Panda." Of course she loved it.



Seeing the impressive marionette performance of Hansel and Gretel.





Hearing Lily say, "I love you, always and forever."

OK, this has nothing to do with Lily...

There's a street in Chatham called Cross St. And there's a street veering off of it named Criss Cross. I just thought that was cute.

Cape Care Free

Lily and I might be 2,000 miles away from home, leaving all the cares of work and bills, school and bedtimes behind us. But all this togetherness is having a not unexpected but definitely unintended effect. She's getting tired and subsequently testy. My patience is wearing thin and my voice speaking too many "nos" and "stops". Yet it's nice to know that at her age, there's no discipline Mom can dole out that a long ride in the big blue swing at the playground won't cure. I'm always her best friend again after one of those marathon pushing sessions. And I have the growing collection of dying dandelions and hydrangea flowers in my purse - the ones that Lily picks for me daily - to prove it. And we're back to not having a care in the world. Or at least not in Cape Cod.

A Star is (Almost) Born

Ever since Lily has been born, I've been queried as to whether I'd ever considered signing her up for modeling and heard second-hand comments to the same effect. Well, yesterday, Lily was discovered.

Yes, no other than the world renown modeling firm Landscape Structures asked Lily to model for their photography shoot yesterday.

At the Chatham playground.

Along with 25 or so other kids who just happened to be playing there at the time.

For their 2009 catalog.

So I dutifully read the release form - "authorize Landscape Structures to use all imagery and release from liability...yada...yada...yada" - and affixed my signature.

And then 5 minutes into the shoot, Lily (who has spent upwards of 2 hours at this playground on a single visit) decided she wanted to leave.

Oh well, I guess Hollywood will just have to wait.

4 going on 14

So this morning Lily waltzes into my bedroom - ok, stomps is more like it - buck nekkid, raises her arm and announces "I'm getting older." Still awakening, I manage to mumble a "Sure, you're getting older. What makes you think so?" And she replies, "I'm getting hairs under my arms." I peer, see nothing, and she quickly qualifies her statement, "Little ones." I ask her where she heard that, and then she said that Pete has hair under his arms, and he told her it was because he was older. Funny for a day.





In other news, we ventured to Newport Rhode Island yesterday to absorb some of the Gilded Age glamour. It was very grand, genteel and gracious, I must say. And just outside of town they had this lovely topiary garden where the topiaries were in the shape of animals. It's called Green Animals, in fact.

We were fortunate they were having an annual "Children's Party" that very day, complete with jugglers, magician, vaudeville-type act, dog show, puppet band, brass band, balloon animals, and pony rides. All in this beautiful setting - large white farmhouse with wraparound porch on a huge lawn overlooking some body of water. And the gardens of course.

All in all, a nice way to spend a day.

Top 5 Things I've Learned in Cape Cod

1) Moon jellyfish don't sting like ordinary jellyfish, so they're not so threatening.

2) Moon jellyfish do however, look like a big disgusting booger.

3) Despite their name, razor clams are not threatening and apparently are good in garlic sauce.

4) Seals come in a spotted variety. We saw one and can verify.

5) Argyle sweaters are alive and well in New England. Unfortunately.

What a "Bah-gan!"

A germ-a-phobe I am not. I interpret the 5-second rule about eating dropped food quite liberally - somewhere along the lines of 20 seconds (about the time it takes before the dogs manage to find said dropped food and clean it up.) And admittedly I bestow a lot more kisses on mild cuts than Neosporin.

But there's just something about the idea of wearing used shoes that I find...ah....disagreeable. So of course the first thing Lily's eyes spied at Chatham's First Congregational Church yard sale this morning was a pair of sea blue sparkly sequined slipper sandals. I'm not all that fond of yard sales, but we were passing by en route to downtown and the sandals just gleamed and glimmered away, too irresistible for her 4-year old girly eyes.

I inspected said shoes, and they did indeed seem to have a layer of that ubiquitous sand embedded in the sole. But they weren’t otherwise obviously filthy or rank. Not that my nose ventured too close to them to really tell. So I shelled out the quarter and Lily promptly abandoned her beloved flip-flops to don these instead.

Yuck.

On the other hand, my eyes happened to land on an 8x8” baking pan, perfect for the brownie mix I had purchased before realizing my rental unit didn’t come equipped with all my beloved baking supplies. Now I realize that some people might find the idea of used cookware far more objectionable than used attire, but in my mind, it was a find. And at 10 cents, what a “bah-gan!”. I’ve heard New Englanders are renowned for their thriftiness, and I think I would have done them proud.

Gotta go now - there goes the timer on the brownies.

Yum.

Sand Sand Everywhere

As I sit here to type, grains of sand start to dot the black keys of my computer. Will the beast be able to handle it, I wonder? Yes, we have arrived in Cape Cod; we have already paid three diferent visits to the beach, and sand is EVERYWHERE. Yes, even there.

So far, Chatham is exactly what I had hoped it would be. Small town Americana, replete with charming grey shingled houses with star-spangled bunting, seashore views, the Cape Cod baseball league and locally owned businesses galore. I am proud to say I have yet to see either a McDonald's or a Starbucks thus far, although they do like their Dunkin Donuts here.

The carriage house rental is impossibly cute. It's located over a garage adjacent to one of those grey shingled homes, complete with windmill. http://www.pineacresrealty.com/index.cfm?page=12&RefNo=4757. Inside, it's light, bright and airy. Blue and white nautical theme with a panoramic window view of Oyster Pond, a sheltered beach that's great for kids.

Don't get me wrong. It's not quite paradise. I've already lost one set of rental keys, and in my eagerness to soak up all Chatham has to offer, I may have tired Lily out already. Because she had one of her all-time Top 5 tantrums this morning at the playground. For no reason whatsoever. The kind of tantrum where other parents smile sympathetically and complete strangers tell you, "We've all been there." THAT kind of tantrum. Somehow I managed to return her to the impossibly cute carriage house and get her to take a nap, which seemed to resolve the issues. Note to self: Strive for daily nap.

And I miss my new husband (Happy 1-month anniversary to us today!) more than I ever thought I would. I guess I've gotten kind of used to having him around and the fun Lily and I are having does not compensate for him not being here.

But alas, there is fun to be had. So much of what Lily is experiencing is brand new to her - the kind of experience you simply can't find in Austin. Things like seeing chipmunks, sea gulls (which she calls eagles) and salt water (which she mistakenly referred to as sugar water!).

All in all, so far, so good. More to come.

I'm Back!!!

I know you all (all 6 faithful readers) had probably given up by now, certain that my fingers would never again grace a computer to add to this blog page, but really I was just sort of busy with other things - like a wedding and a honeymoon. But I'm back, with a full 56 days remaining before I need to return to work, and so I anticipate filling this blog with lotso' entries between now and then. Not to mention catching up on all my friends blogs (Maria and Susie especially) that I've been missing out on.



So here's the obligatory words on the wedding and honeymoon. They were wonderful and amazing and oh so memorable - just everything you hope a wedding and a honeymoon should be. We're already contemplating retirement options on Kauai. Loads of pictures of all wedding festivities and Kauai gorgeousness on Snapfish. If I haven't already sent you the links and you're interested, let me know. (There's too many links to post into this blog here, but I have attached one of my favorite wedding snaps)

I could reminiesce for lines upon lines of text about the wedding, but lest I forget, this blog is supposed to be more about Lily, so let me get back to her. Suffice to say now that Peter is officially and legally a member of the family (even though he's unofficially been part of the family 4EVR), expect him to make more appearances in the blog.

So now to the matter at hand - the Cape Cod summer. A.K.A. Cathy's sabbatical summer. A.K.A. the summer by the seashore. A.K.A. the summer where Mom really hopes to bottle some wonderful memories like you read about in Wondertime magazine or in perfect parenting stories. Memories about simple pleasures like building sand castles, catching fireflies, watching bubbles waft away in the wind, scavenging for seashells, splashing in the ocean surf, wiping sidewalk chalk dust off our legs, listening to Friday night band concerts, and doing somersaults on the lawn. This is the summer when bedtime is governed more by the light of day and less by the clock.This is the summer where she can learn to revel in all her senses - the sights and sounds and smells and feel and even taste of the seashore - and hopefully appreciate what nature is all about. This is the summer about having completely uninterrupted time with Mom. Or mostly uninterrupted. There will still be cooking and the occasional laundry to take care of, but that pesky thing called work won't get in the way. This is the summer where she can just be a kid.

It might be the only summer we can do this. 8-week vacations from work come along once in a lifetime, and (fingers crossed) Lily might have a sibling to share summers and parents with in the future. So I'm hoping this summer is sticky. Real sticky. Rest of her life sticky. Like all the ice cream and fudge we'll also eat this summer.

Homecoming

Home at last, home at last. Yea! I've been on US terra firma for 5+ days now, and glad for my return. My homecoming was suitable given the long absence, with no shortage of "I missed you"s and "I love you"s since getting bak. I even got two days of extra good behavior out of it to boot. Of course, her typical 4-year old behavior has returned in full since then!

So today, Lily told me, "I like it when Pete says I'm exasperating." And I corrected her, because I had taught her a long time ago upon my command to tell Peter HE was exasperating. And of course that's what I thought she meant. So she said, "Sometimes I'm exasperating too."

Truer words were never spoken.

More Musings from the UK

1) I can't quite figure it out, but when you want to cross an intersection kitty-corner in the U.S., you have to cross the street twice. However, I have been thwarted in my efforts to cross a traffic circle kitty corner in fewer than four street crossings....Hmmmm...operator error, perhaps?
2) When I was last in England, circa 1989, approximately 35% of all women you'd see walking on the streets or riding the tube wore mini-skirts and black tights. Fast forward 19 years, and approximately 35% of all women you see walking on the streets or riding the tube wear mini-skirts and black tights. Some things never change.
3) Fish and chips are not as good as I remember them to be. Mostly they just taste greasy now. However, they have this fabulous Portuguese chicken semi-fast food place called Nando's that I hope someone will import to the U.S. pronto.
4) The National Gallery is definitely as good as I remember it to be. Rembrandt, Michaelangelo, Titian, Da Vinci, Monet, Renoir (my favorite), Toulouse-Lautrec, Gauguin, Degas, Gainsborough, Picasso and practically ever other famous artist that's ever graced this earth since 1200 A.D. is represented in this museum. AND it's FREE.

Musings on London

1) Being the word aficionado that I am, I couldn't help but smile when I saw the sign at the rail station reading, "Do not alight here." Isn't alight just a brilliant sounding word? I'm going to advocate using it conversationally much more often. They also say "brilliant" here quite often, which I personally find to be brilliant.
2) They have lots of old things here. The older something is, the prouder the Brit describing it to you is. I saw/visited many old places last night on the "Hidden Pubs of London" walking tour. This is the second walking tour of London I've been on (granted, the first was 19 years ago), but I don't think you can't beat these tours for entertainment or pure value for the price - only seven pounds. It was obviously quite a popular tour, as our group numbered in the upper 40's. Unless you don't really count the Aggie college girls that were along on the tour, because they are Aggies after all. The final stop on the hidden pub tour was very old - dating back to the 1600's in fact, and it was delightfully named "Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese."
3) As I sit here sipping a cup of quintessentially British,Twining's patented, Earl Grey tea, I am also reminded of another interesting tidbit from the tour last night. We in fact passed the original Twinig's tea shop, which is the oldest shop in London that's been owned by the same people and been in the same location. Apparently the tea trade back in ye olde days was not unlike the drug trade of today. Plenty of black market tea exchanged hands back then, and the purveyors of said tea wanted to make as much money from it as they could, so they cut the tea with other, non-tea ingredients, making it all go further. So if you were to drink British tea sometime in the 1800's, you would most likely be imbibing a mixture of black tea leaves, twigs, and powdered sheep dung. Yummy, huh? I think I'll stick with my Earl Grey.

Navigating the Underground

So last evening I decide to take myself to Covent Garden, becuase it's supposedly one of the trendy hot spots in London these days and I figure I can find a good restaurant there. And certainly I can manage the Underground, or the Tube, as they affectionately refer to the subway here. After all, I spent four months in England once upon a time (never mind that that time was 19 years ago), and by all accounts, I remembered it being pretty easy to traverse about London on the tube. So I step into the Charing Cross tube station right outside my hotel, by my 5 pound ticket, and proceed through the maze that lives underneath Trafalgar Square, where I'm staying. The station is so large, it takes me approximately 10 minutes just to walk to (and down to) the tube platform. But finally I'm there, having just missed the last tube, but wait another 3 minutes til the next one arrives. And then it's just a quick ride to my stop, Leister Square, where I proceed to ascend to the surface and arrive in Covent Garden! Yea - only 15 minutes and I've successfully gone from one London neighborhood to another. It was as easy as I remembered. I see bustling streets that appear to be filled with restaurants and bars and cafes and theaters (this is the West End after all), and I pick one to begin my jaunt. Two minutes of foot traffic later and I arrive in....Trafalgar Square. Granted, the opposite end of Trafalgar Square where I started from, but Trafalgar Square nonetheless. I sighed, turned around, found a nice Italian restaurant where I dined on spinach and ricotta ravioli with roasted plum tomato sauce and walked the five minutes back to my hotel. Come hell or high water, and tube stops be danged, tonight I WILL find a new neighborhood to explore.

Auf Wildenstein

So a few final observations on Germany: 1) Contrary to the title of my last entry, it was the Autobahn I was on. Turns out even though you always hear the phrase “THE” Autobahn, they really mean “the” Autobahn, as in “the” highway. A generic term in other words. The journalist in me had to get that editorial correction in there. 2) If you plan to visit the touristy sites in Munich, work out on your stair climber for at least two weeks preceding your trip. Munich itself is pretty flat, but many of its attractions (Peterkirche tower, toy museum, Residenz) have lots and lots of stairs. I climbed more than 500 of them on Saturday, 305 in Peterkirche alone. Yes, I’m a dork and I counted them. 3) Leberkas, Bavarian meatloaf, is yummy. 4) So is Munich.

Loved the weekend, because it meant I got to talk to Lily and Peter both days, never mind about work or the time difference. Before I left, I had written out 14 little notes for Lily – one to find and open each day while I was gone. I thought maybe she wouldn’t miss me so much if she had that constant tie to me each day. In any case, I put the number of days until I got back at the bottom of each note. So I was talking to her Saturday, and I said, “Did you find Mommy’s note today? Only 8 more days til I get home.” At which point she promptly informed me that there were 9 days til I returned. And I corrected her and said it was really only 8 days. And SHE SAID the note said 9 days. At which point I SAID the note must have been wrong, b/c it was 8 days. And SHE SAID…are you ready for this?…, “But you wrote them.”

Yes, my daughter is a Smart a**. I think she must get that from Peter.

It wasn't the Autobahn...

...but I knew my cab driver was going fast by US standards last night, approaching 200km per hour. I checked the conversion chart this morning - that's a whopping 123.0315 mph! Kind of cool.

They do take their beer (or bier) seriously here. Even in the AMD Munich offices, the conference rooms are named Hacker-Pschorr and Lowenbrau. I was amused.

More Observations from Deutschland

1) If you're a Desperate Housewives fan, you might be interested to know that the Adam and Eve paintings that appear in the show's introduction sit in a museum here in Dresden Germany. They were painted by Lucas Cranach the Elder in 1526.
2) Sentiment for dearly departed farm animals rarely kicks in wehn I see a pre-packaged pork chop at H.E.B. However, seeing an ENTIRE roasted pig on a spit (which is what we were served for dinner the other night) is a different matter altogether. I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the little piggy. But he still tasted good.
3) When you hear an East German saying the phrase "not the", it can sound strangely like the word "Nazi". Ironic.
4) Short microprocessor fab workers in blue overalls and hard hats can bear a striking resemblance to Oompah Loompahs.

We Apologize for this Temporary Interruption

...of the Momsoon blog that is, since Mommy's now officially on her 2-week business sojourn in Europe. I will temporarily replace the Momsoon blog with the "A PR Manager's Diary of Dresden and Munich, Germany and England" blog.

But before I get to Dresden, where I am now, I have one Mommy thing to report. I had no idea they now made greeting cards where your child can record their voice in the card. Peter and Lily happened upon one of these Mother's Day cards for me, and now I get to hear Lily say "Mommy, I love you" whenever I want. I will probably wear the card out, since I still haven't found an uncomplicated way (read: a way that doesn't require you to dial 50 digits) to make international calls from here yet. I think I was maybe supposed to get a calling card or something. Oh well.

So now on to Dresden. It's Pfingstmontag today, a holy day and holiday known as Whit Monday in English. I haven't quite figured out it's full significance, but accoording to Wikipedia, it's supposed to represent a "second Pentecost." And since the AMD offices in Germany are officially closed, I took the morning off to go on a bus sightseeing tour. It appeared that the entire city took off work as well, because everywhere I looked the city is teeming with pedestrians, bicyclists, and tourists galore. And all of them drinking coffee or beer. It's challenging to find a plain old water (or vasser) in this town.

Apart from a semi-preponderance of graffiti and an unsightly sighting of a Speedo-clad Euro, Dresden has to be one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Stunning Baroque architecture, hills, castles, fountains, parks and gardens galore, many of them terraced and all of them in full bloom. The city also sits on the banks of the beautiful Elbe river. Owing to a mechanical issue that delayed my flight out of Frankfurt, I arrived after dark last night, but was treated to a take your breath away night view of some of the financial institutions along the riverside. I'm staying in a hotel near the famous Church of the Old Lady, which was left in ruins for nearly 50 years after the city was bombed out in WWII. Reconstruction finally began in 1993 and was only completed a few years ago. I neglected to bring a USB cable to upload photos from my camera, but I'll send some out after my return. To top it all off, the weather is stunningly beautiful today - sunny with temperatures in the mid-70's.

Among the more interesting sites on the bus tour - a sign advertising an "erotic car wash" and the home of the gentleman who discovered rat poison. This discovery made him very rich. You could tell it by looking at his villa.

Well now, I'll get around to doing some work for the day. Auf Wiedersehen for now!

Work Less, Blog More

In this era of presidential primaries (doesn't it feel like an era?), I thought I'd title this blog in the style of a presidential campaign slogan. Granted, maybe it's a title more suitable of a grade school Student Council presidency, but nonetheless...



At any rate, my excuse (this time) for not blogging as frequently as I should be is that pesky little thing called work. It has a funny way of interfering with more interesting and creative pursuits. Like blogging



And soon it's about to interfere with motherhood itself. In 3 days, 3 hours, and about 16 minutes, I will be en route to Europe for a 2-week stint. That's right. Two entire weeks without my Lily. That's exactly 10 days longer than I've ever been away from her before. In other words, it's an eternity.



Not to mention I will also be away from my beloved. And I've sort of become accustomed to having him around as well.



Suffice to say, Beloved Daughter will be in the more than capable hands of Beloved Fiance for the duration. But I still can't help but wonder what scars I might be leaving behind. (Note to self: Deposit additional $600 in account for Lily's future therapy sessions.)



And if ONE MORE PERSON asks me "Aren't you worried about being gone for her for that long?" I will absolutely, positively lose it. OF COURSE I'm worried. And I've course I will miss here. Along with Mother's Day and her dance recital. :(



What I won't miss is Lauren Chou's birthday party. See Jan. 14 "The Princess Diaries" entry -No offense to Lauren intended.

I know of course that I've actually probably spent more time worrying about being away than I'll actually be on the trip. And it will be over before I know it.

But still...

Shopping List

Johnson & Johnson Bedtime Bath soap with lavender.
Johnson & Johnson Buddies Easy-Comb detangler.

Because Lily decided she needed about 25 of the 28 oz. bottle of soap and 5 of the 7.5 ozs. of detangler to wash her baby in the bath last night.

Lily Blows the Whistle...

If you've ever watched Jo Frost, a.k.a. "Supernanny", then you know she's a big fan of "the naughty spot." In layman's langauge, it's a boring, uninteresting place in your home where you can send your child for time out. Pick somewhere where they can't be entertained, can't play with their toys, can't see the TV, etc... etc.... Imprisoning your child in a dark closet is NOT recommended, but you should park your kid somewhere that will create an experience akin to watching corn grow in Dodge, Nebraska.

On a side note, there really is a town called Dodge, Nebraska (population 681), and I'm wondering if this town is the origin of the phrase "Get the hell out of Dodge". Pix of Dodge below.

The object of said naughty spot, is of course to deter undesirable behavior. Child misbehaves -> child sent to naughty spot -> child bored out of skull in naughy spot -> child quits misbehavior.

So it struck me that there might be a teensy tiny flaw with this technique when yesterday, Lily voluntarily sent herself to the naughty spot - FOR NO REASON AT ALL. And THEN asked me to set the timer so she knew when to leave the naughty spot. I humored her, and set it for 4 minutes. And then after the timer went off, she decided she wanted to stay there EVEN LONGER.

I'm thinking the naughty spot might be losing its effectiveness as a discipline tool.

It's just another in the litany of examples that demonstrate Lily is immune to various "expert" proscribed discipline methods. But it's obviously still working for Jo Frost and a legion of other parents out there. There's even a company out there whose sole business it is to make money off children's time outs: http://www.timeoutspots.com/time-out-spots-shop.html.

Maybe I should try time outs in reverse. The next time Lily misbehaves, I won't discipline her. I'll put myself in time out instead. I'll go to the naughty spot. The "experts" recommend 1 minute for every year of age for time out. 38 minutes of peace and quiet? Bring it on!

I might even get of the time-out-spots spots. The pink one looked kind of nice, doncha think?

Maybe I Shoud Call It MomSometimeSoon?

I'm thinking about re-naming the blog. Momsoon, while originally intended to be a play on the word "monsoon" and the whirlwind that is childhood/parenthood, has also been misconstrued to mean I'm pregnant with #2. (I'm not, for the record). But the name also could imply that I will regularly post blogs, sometime soon. Which is sort of the point of a blog.

Clearly I've been a bit lax in this regard the last couple weeks. I'm not certain if it's writer's block; it may be plain old tiredness (See April 1 entry for details - the nightime drama continues).

But for the faithful half-dozen or so readers out there, please be patient with me. I'll return soon - there's that word again - with some new material. But I need a wee bit more time to rejuvenate my creative juices. I'm headed for Mother's Utopia (THE SPA!) this weekend. I can hear the relaxing water effects soundtracks in my head now.... Hoping that will do the trick.

Til then.

Lily's First "Celebrity" Photo

Startling resemblance, huh? At least in the clothing colors...

Things that go Bump...

Driving to school the other day, I hear Lily from the backseat. "Mom, what's this mean?" I glance in the rear-view mirror and see her giving a thumbs up sign. Doing my best Fonzie impersonation, I say "Aaaaaaaaayyyy....Thumbs up means good job, okay. Aaaaaaayyyy...." Can you say that? She pauses, ponders her response and finally says, "No, I can't do bumpy sounds."

It's All a Blur

My cheeks hurt. They're sagging down past my jawline, and I fear they would actually fall off my face if I weren't expending energy just to hold them up. Ditto for my eyelids and keeping them open.

I splurged at the cafeteria today, filling my coffee cup half full of Starbuck's French Roast instead of a full cup of the unnamed decaf I typically down in the a.m.

We're going on double-digits of consecutive semi-sleepless nights now. Lily's never been a good sleeper, but this last stretch has been particularly draining. Her awakenings are not the sweet "Mommy, can I have a drink of water?"- get water- tuck quietly back into bed and return to our own bed type. They are screaming-kicking and tantrum filled, in which Lily pits her desire to sleep on the couch against our desire to have her sleep in her room. And often they happen more than once a night. It hasn't helped that we cannot get her to explain to us why she doesn't want to sleep in her room.

We remarked to ourselves just the other day just why it is our monster heathen Pocahontes (in contrast to Sammy, the Good Dog) manages to do with ease all the things Lily has trouble with - eat, sleep and poop. Now, if Lily could just teach Pokey not to counter surf all the time...

I know all about picking your battles, and you might be thinking that this is a battle we should let go of, and let her sleep on the couch. But this is a slippery slope, a road we've been down before. If we let her sleep on the couch for part of the night, soon she will want to sleep on the couch the entire night. And we're really not all that crazy about abandoning our one and only family room at 8 p.m. and retreating like war-weary soldiers to the limited confines of our master bedroom.

We've tried a number of alternatives. At this point I think we're resigned to wait it out, and hope there's enough caffeine in the world (coffee for me/Dr. Pepper & Sweet Leaf Honey Mint tea for Peter) to get us through. And if it continues, I think we may just become the first couple in the history of the world to look forward to all the sleep we'll get on our honeymoon.

Quick Quip #3

Yesterday, I was wearing those fascinating advancements in women's footwear - the socks that cover just your toes so you can wear clogs without looking like a dork but still keep your tootsies warm in the process... Anyway, I was sitting shoeless on the trampoline while Lily pranced and jumped about. She caught sight of my feet, stopped in her tracks, and said, "Are those my socks?"

Wild Kingdom

I can't imagine anything better than a zoo for tapping into a child's curiosity and sense of wonder about the world. Have you ever stopped to think about what percentage of children's books are about animals? It's huge. And a zoo brings all the pictures from all the books to life. All those exotic animals, in the flesh. Sights and sounds (and yes, smells) galore.

So it was that we spent Easter Sunday at the Ft. Worth zoo. Yes, I confess we skipped out on church, but clearly we were in the presence of the master. Just ask Noah.

The zoo had the usual assortment of animals, and we lucked out, seeing most of them in action. The elephant spraying itself with water from its trunk ("Elephants don't take baths!"); the mountain lion tossing a gourd about ("It's playing with a pear!), the male lion complying with the audience's desire for theatrics and roaring loudly, multiple times (That one inspired a loud cackle from Lily). She decided the river otter's wet fur gleaming in the sunlight bore a striking resemblance to "a rainbow". At one point she yelled, "Look what I found," spying the rhinos out of a corner of her eye. The bug also took great delight in tracking the assorted paw and claw prints that the zoo cleverly embeds in their concrete walkways.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Lily took as much (if not more) delight in the zoo choo-choo as the animals, but I'll keep telling myself the animals will be the memory that sticks with her.

But my favorite Lily-ism from this weekend happened to take place not at the zoo, but at the hockey game we attended the day before. In celebration of the upcoming Easter holiday the Dallas Stars team trotted out another member of the wild kingdom - sort of - in the form of a rabbit mascot. To which Lily said, "Look - the bunny Easter!"

Yikes!

I do believe I heard the most jarring words a mother can ever expect to hear from her little baby girl this morning. No, it wasn't "I hate you." She's already tried that one out on me, and as unsettling as it was, it didn't come ANYWHERE CLOSE to what she uttered today. No, on our way to school this morning, Lily began speaking of her classmate Ben - the cute little toe-haired boy who announces Lily's arrival to the class each morning and runs over to give her a hug. She was talking about this little Lothario, and then out of the blue asks... "Can he sleep with me?" The word "NO" shot out of my mouth faster than a bullet from Wyatt Earp's gun. Of course I had insinuated my adult brain into her innocent request, but my mind made the mental leap before I could stop it. Lily and I subsequently compromised, and I left a note for Ben's mom in his cubby to see if the kiddos could have a play date sometime soon. I declined to mention Lily's other request.

A Lesson Learned

A word of wisdom to the moms-to-be out there. I've learned a lesson. Learn yours the easy way and take this piece of advice from me now.

No matter how cute you think it is when they're 18 months old, do not - I repeat do not - teach your young daughter to "shake her booty."

It's not as cute when they're four.

Being a Surreptitious Easter Bunny

If I were to list my "Top Ten Things About Being a Parent", holidays would definitely rank on the list. What better excuse to relive your own childhood than by going gangbusters when Halloween, Christmas, birthdays, Lumpy Rug Day and Dandelion Day (both May 3, 2008, for the record) roll around?

The upcoming Easter holiday has me a bit flummoxed however. I was looking forward to a weekend spent in Dallas and Ft. Worth, and not just because we'll be heathen-free (no dogs) for two days. We're all geared up to bring Lily to her inaugural Stars hockey game on Saturday and then take in the Ft. Worth zoon on Easter Sunday.

Alas, the weekend away will present some logistical challenges when it comes to the Big Bunny's visit. I already made the mistake of dragging the Easter baskets out of the dusty garage bin and putting them on the top shelf of the pantry. The bug immediately spotted them of course. I brushed that off by saying I was getting them out so the Easter Bunny could fill them up. Never mind that when I was a kid, we didn't leave baskets out to be filled. No, when I was a kid, the Easter Bunny did full-service delivery, baskets and all. Changing of the times, I guess. Self-service is in, right? If you don't agree, just try to find a gas station attendant to fill your tank these days.

No, I have to devise a way for the Easter Bunny to zero in on Lily, even though we'll be staying the night in a hotel. And making sure she doesn't spot any evidence on the trip up. I think I have to rule out colored hard-boiled eggs. Just the thought of the odor that will ferment in the back cargo area during the 3+ hour car drive north makes me a little nauseous, and that's not even factoring in the likely case of salmonella that would result from eating said eggs.

I also envision the Easter chocolate melting into the green and purple plastic "straw," but actual food poisoning is probably less of a concern with that. Then there's the challenge of sneaking the basket into the hotel room. And then explaining how the Easter bunny found her in Dallas. And then convincing her she cannot eat all the candy on the drive back to Austin that afternoon. Sugar rushes and car seats are NOT a good combination.

I think I'm beginning to understand why the expression "home for the holidays" came about. Maybe it's not too late to do just that.

In the Genes

There must be something in the genes, or perhaps more aptly, something in that second X chromosome that all humans of the female persuasion are bestowed with.

Yesterday, the bug and I were at the pediatrician's for the second time in three weeks (diagnosis: secondary sinus infection resulting from the flu).

As per usual, the nurse asked Lily to step up on the scale. Lily promptly followed orders...but she kicked off her shoes first!

The bug is currently weighing in at at 34 lbs.

Wanted: Ph.D in Parenting

I'm caught in the vortex - and I can't get out.

It started off innocently enough five years ago with "What to Expect When You're Expecting," pre-required reading for any first-time preggie. Then we moved to Pregnancy 101 ("The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy") then Parenting 101 ("The Everything Mother's First Year Book"). Because I enjoyed the first installment so much, I also had to have "The Girlfriend's Guide to Surviving the First Year of Motherhood" and I wanted to try a memoir on for size ("Operating Instructions") by Anne Lamott. And since I was a "special case," I just couldn't live without "Single Mothers by Choice" AND "The Complete Single Mom."

It was a wonder I actually had time to do any mothering; I spent so much time reading about it.

Then came the books I received as presents - the offbeat keepsake book "Baby's First Tattoo" and one of my first Mother's Day presents, "The Seven Stages of Motherhood."

There was the time I was feeling non-committal, opting only to read a parenting magazine instead of the book. But the article linking sedentary lifestyles with childhood diabetes prompted me to run out and get "The Wiggle and Giggle Busy Book: 365 Ways to Keep Your Child Active." At least it was called something like that.

During a June Cleaver-like moment, or maybe Carol Brady, I purchased "The Book of New Family Traditions." Then, following a more Joan Crawford/Mommie Dearest like moment where the bug and I both erupted in screams followed by tears, I opted for remedial parental education and bought a entire trilogy of parenting books at once - "The No Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Preschoolers," "The No Cry Discipline Solution..." and "Momfidence."

The last book amped me up with so much confidence - like a Red Bull and vodka of motherly self-esteem - that I was actually was in self-imposed rehab for several months. No parenting books to interrupt my preferred bedside reading of cozy mysteries and monthly book club selections.

Until...he moved in.

Yes, my beloved. My adored. Peter. The father in training.

The guy who majored in PSYCHOLOGY.

Suddenly, it wasn't just me obsessing about being a better parent. He has been more than happy to join in, and contribute to, the insanity.

Now, the Elizabeth Pantley (mom-authored) book on my nightstand is competing with his Dr. Kazdin (what else, a pyschologist-authored) book. We spend our dinner table discussions debating the merits of sticker charts vs. other childhood behavior training models. We evaluate the seemingly infinite number of time-proven" methods of getting your child to bed in an orderly manner. Lily has, for the record, disproven all the "expert" theories and continues to evade bedtime like the plague.

Yes, the parenting equation has become infinitely more complicated with Peter in the picture. But it's also easier - how wonderful to know someone's got your parenting back. And it's infinitely better. For me and for Lily.

And I don't need a book to tell me that.

Tom and Jerry, erhhh, Julio?

"You know what?" Lily offered up at dinner the other night, in the midst of eating an entire corn cob.

"There was a mouse at school today, and he ate corn, and he said he liked the corn in Spanish."


Peter and I looked at each other, smiles behind our own cobs. "Really? In Spanish?"


"Yes. He said..." Unintelligible noises follow.


"What was that again?"


More Lily noises...


"Sine qua non?"


Funny, they hadn't been teaching Latin in school that I knew of...


More noises...


"In-a-gadda-da-vida?"


"Couldn't be. We don'teven have any Iron Butterfly music."


More noises...


"That didn't sound like Spanish. Maybe Esperanto?"


Anyone know of any good Spanish immersion materials for preschoolers? Or an exterminator? Reminds me, I need to notify the daycare about their rat infestation.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Riding in the car to school today, Lily volunteered, "I like today."

"You do?" I asked. "Why is that?"

"Because it's a new day," she replied.

Good reminder that we can all benefit from...

The Great Debate - Fly or fish?

In the book and cartoon film world of preschoolers, fairies, mermaids and other magical creatures abound.

"When I grow up, I want to have a tail," Lily has very firmly proclaimed on more than one occasion.

When pressed as to rather she'd rather have a tail or wings, she's resolute in her fin fantasies.

Being partial to wings myself, I don't really understand, but then again, I'm supposed to encourage her independent thinking, so tail it is for her.

What's your preference? Vote at the poll on the left-hand side of this page!

777

I heard a clip of Reese Witherspoon on the radio the other day, talking about her philosophy on the game of life when it comes to children. You know what I'm talking about - the debate whether we should continually reinforce our children's self-esteem by rewarding them for their participation in sports, spelling bees etc... etc..., or do we merely reward their accomplishments and successes? Do we hand out medals, trophies and ribbons to all the competitors, or just to the winners?



Reese fell firmly on the side of awarding only the winners, citing how it builds character for children when they learn both sides of the story - winning and losing. I happen to agree with her, but at this point in time haven't found many opportunities to teach Lily about the losing side of life.



At various times, she's taken assorted swimming, gymnastics and "Sportball" lessons, but none of these have been in a team format, and aren't really competitive in nature.



So far the learning opps have been slim pickings with the more non-athletic games as well. You name it - Candy Land, Go Fish, Chutes and Ladders, Old Maid - The Bug has an incredible track record for winning. Game of chance (Chutes and Ladders) or game of skill (Memory) - it doesn't matter. Swap out the opponents - Mom, Pete, one of the neighbor boys - no difference. And at the tender age of four, she's already cultivated one hell of a poker face. Just try to get her to tip her hand when you're about to snatch the Old Maid from her deck. She's probably batting a 90% overall win percentage. To top it all off, every time she does win, she sort of dips her chin, coyly looks out from under her eyelashes, and says "I win?" The question mark is fully evident in her voice, but her smirk tells the world she knows dang well she has won...again.



I chalk up the win percentage to the fact that her birth weight was 7 lbs 7.7 ozs. on the nose. Yep - triple lucky 7s .



The Pythagoreans called 7 the perfect number. Days of the week, ancient planets, number of Roman deities, Arabian holy temples, Ancient Wonders of the World, Stephen Covey's habits of highly effective people, Snow White's dwarves - all 7. The list goes on.



So even though I know I probably shouldn't be thinking like this, the thought has maybe crossed my mind that I could ask Lily to act as sort of a good luck charm. Help pick out some Lotto numbers for me or something like that. (Don't start with me..You know you'd think about it too if your multistate lottery had crossed the $250 million dollar mark like mine did last week).



I've refrained so far, but only owing to the fact that we left the state to visit Gammy and Papa for a few days, and the jackpot had been won upon my return.



For now, I'll try to re-focus my energies not on leveraging my child's luck, but seeking out new ways to teach her more fully about winning - and losing.



But just watch out when she turns 21. There's a room at Caesar's Palace with our name on it.

I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS

"Don't check on me!" Coming from the kid who typically demands about 30 post-bedtime checks, this seemed like an odd request. But hey, who was I to complain? I had a good book to finish reading. (Life's a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield if you're interested). So yes, while I heard various noises emanating from her bedroom, there was an absence of disturbingly loud crashes, and Lily herself was being quiet, so I went with the flow. Peter had not heard the bedtime proclamation, and took it upon himself to peek in on her.

"I SAID DON'T CHECK ON ME!"

Slightly sheepish, he retreated from the bedroom with one of those "You'll never guess what YOUR daughter is doing" type statements.

This is what she was doing. And I'd like to reiterate what I said in the title - I had NOTHING to do with it.

Except take the picture.

Quick Quip #2

5 a.m. Monday morning - Lily-bug crawls into bed with us. Immediately I can feel the sauna-like temperatures emanating from her body.
7 a.m. Thermometer confirms assumption. Fever of 102.3.
11 a.m. Following throat swab and nose swab, the bug is diagnosed with the flu (So not happy that I decided to have her undergo the pain of the flu vaccine shot back in October). Nurse practitioner tells us what symptoms to expect over the next few days, including "congestion and runny nose." Passing the nurse's station on the way out, I inform Lily that we need to go pick up her medicine.

"Medicine so my nose doesn't run out?"

We departed, a station full of smiling nurses behind us.

True Mom Confessions

They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?


Ok, here goes....Deep breath...


My name is Mom, and I pilfer from my daughter's treat bag.


There, I've said it. Yes, I am a treat taker, a candy grabber, a munchie moocher, a food filcher, a sweet stealer.


And aside from a teensy, lingering, Catholic-bred guilt for violating the 8th commandment, I don't even feel that guilty about it.


What teensy bit of guilt I have was brought on because of the imminent onslaught of Valentine's Day. Which means Lily's class party and estimated 28 new pieces of candy to add to the aforementioned treat bag. (No peanuts and no homemade goodies of course, proclaimeth THE SCHOOL).

The treat bag itself is a work of art - an orange scarecrow pattern with "Happy Halloween" and Lily's name embroidered on it. Kudos to Grandma Marsha. I never guessed when I first used the Halloween bag that it would become a four-season bag instead. Because when the Halloween candy stockpile appears as though it is just about to deplete, it is replenished with treats from the school Christmas party, then Valentine's Day, then the "spring" party. And all the birthday parties in between.

I think there may have been 3 days last July around MLB All Star Break where there wasn't any candy in the bag. Maybe 4 days. Certainly no longer.

So...in a single calendar year I estimate my child is ingesting about 19,310 grams of sugar. Or she would if we let her consume all the candy.

And even without Googling this info, I'm about 99.9% certain that number is slightly above the American Dental Association's recommended intake of sugar. And the American Pediatric Association. And the USDA, the FDA, WebMD, New England Journal of Medicine, Dr. Phil, the Mayo Clinic and the Dhalai Lama.

So really, I'm just doing my maternal duty by consuming her chocolate stash. I'm protecting her from a lifetime of cavities, obesity and childhood diabetes. Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing!

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. All residual guilt is GONE.

Of course, all this analyzing and rationalizing is making me hungry.

I think I'll go see if she's got a Kit Kat in there.

The Big "B"

Lily is four, going from three to two. Or maybe four.



Wheels, that is, As in from a petal pink retro tricycle to a bubble-gum princess pink two-wheel bicycle (or four, if you count the training wheels.). The Big "B."



In any case, it's a huge milestone for her, attained after earning 15 stickers for going to bed and STAYING in bed like she's supposed to do. Never mind that it took 33 nights to get 15 stickers.



It's almost superfluous to say, but it's a huge milestone for me too. And a "My baby's growing up" bittersweet milestone as well.



The prize is the far-from-one-and-only Huffy Disney Princess "Enchanted Tales" girls' bicycle, complete with a mini-backpack, bell, handlebar streamers, and those cool wheel spinner thingies that insert between the spokes.



We get home and the bike requires some assembly, so I ship Lily off to the neighbor's house to await its completion. I manage to finish most of the assembly solo, and only need Pete to finish up the hand brake. Although he insists on checking all my previous work. "So what if I only had to use one of the four tools the instructions said I would need? I do not, repeat, do not need an Allan wrench."



Soon, Lily descends upon us.



"Yeeesssss!," she screams while vaulting across the neighor's yard. The helmet goes on. Quick tutorial on proper coaster brake operation. And with a stretch of her legs and a little push from behind, she's off.



And soon after, I see it. A glimpse into my already-too-quickly approaching future.



Lily riding away.

When PreSchoolers Dress Themselves

This morning I was witness to a scene straight out of the beloved (IMHO anyway) Sandra Boynton book "Blue Hat, Green Hat." The one where at the end of the book the slightly addled turkey dons an array of brightly colored, mismatched clothing (red hat, yellow shirt, green pants, purple socks, blue shoes), but then dives fully clothed into a swimming pool...

To be fair, there were no swimming pool, or any other water-based, incidents involved this morning. But after Lily dressed herself, she bore a passing resemblance to the turkey. Picture this:

-Turquoise corduroy skirt
-White and pink shirt with dancing ballerina
-Purple striped and 'starred' knee socks
-Pink and black camouflage pattern tennies
-Navy, white, and aqua green jacket
-Bright pink Elmo hair clips

Lily completed the ensemble with mittens. One cream and one pink.

Thank gooodness school pictures were yesterday.

On the upside...

See post below for the downside of today...

Today marks the exact half-way point in mine and Peter's engagement. Yippee! Or is it yikes?! :)

Lily's been trying out the Spanish version of Dad, "Papi"- pronounced "poppy" - on Peter. He likes it, but I'm still lobbying for "P-Daddy."

I guess we'll see what sticks. It's up to her.

One of those mornings

8:05 a.m. Leave house, relatively on time.
8:09 a.m. Realize have left laptop at home. Turn around.
8:15 a.m. Leave house 2nd time, laptop in hand.
8:23 a.m. Arrive at Lily's daycare.
8:26 a.m. Preparing to leave daycare first time. Lily asks me to please get her Care Bear, which she has forgotten, from the car.
8:28 a.m. Retrive and deliver care bear. 2nd round of kisses and hugs.
8:29 a.m. Get in car, realize have left sunglasses in day care.
8:31 a.m. Find sunglasses, leave day care for 3rd time after more hugs & kisses .
8:32 a.m. "Ding," I hear from the car gauge, insisting that I'm about to run out of gas.
8:40 a.m. Fill gas tank in 30-odd degree weather. Freeze butt. (Hey, I moved to TX from Chicago for A REASON!)
9:00 a.m. Esconced in chair at work, with hot coffee in hand. Happy again.

These Fridays that start off feeling like Mondays are the ones that make me long to be a stay-at-home mom. Looking forward to enjoying that role for the next two days. And by Monday, I just might be ready to go back to work.

Oh, who am I kidding?

This is Your Brain

I was reminded the other day of that immortal "This is your brain...this is your brain on drugs" fried egg commercial.


Not because I was on drugs -- or hungry -- though that is a near-constant state of being for me. The hungry part, not the on drugs part.


No, my brain was in quite a muddled state, but it was brought on by something far more insidious than drugs. It was induced by none other than the umpteenth repetition of Lily's "Toddler Sing-a-Long Songs" CD. "The Old Grey Mare," "Big Rock Candy Mountains," "Turkey in the Straw" and 47 other "sure to make your child smile sunnily!" songs. On this particular CD, all the songs are sung by a rarely harmonious, almost never melodious yet always high-pitched choir of children.


From their mouths to God's ears. Methinks God may be a teensey bit tone deaf.


Was that a bolt of lightning out there?


Seriously, I'm a big supporter of exposing children to music, all kinds of music. Lily's even been enrolled in her pre-school's weekly Opus One music "experience" class for two years already, and her instruments include a harmonica, recorder, maracas, tambourine and acoustic guitar (her request for her 4th birthday present).


Lily also owns more CDs at age 4 than I did by age 30, including a very special one that her Gammy and Papa burned for her birthday. They even made cover art for the jewel case. Unfortunately, the vast majority of said CDs have been at Justin's (her natural father, for the uninitiated) for far too long now. For the last eight months, Justin's lived upwards of 200 miles away, and so Lily's visits to her dad are less frequent than they used to be. But I try to stock up on the CDs for the long trips there and back. Alas, the last journey, she came home sans CDs. So I've been stuck with just a few choices to play over and over since that time. I'm yearning for the broader selection, and think another trip to daddy's must be forthcoming soon, if for no other reason than to retrieve the CDs.


So this is just all really a too-long build up for me to share some of my personal favorite parent tolerable pre-school tunage. You'll notice that most of my kudos will be going to Austin musicians - not only do they crank out really good adult music here, but they do all right by the kiddos as well.

1) The Grandaddy of them all and my favorite: "Mommy Says No" by the Asylum Street Spankers. http://www.asylumstreetspankers.com/ This ensemble of enormously talented and versatile musicians spreads their wings in original children's songs with kid-friendly titles like "Boogers," "Superfrog," and the title track, a great introduction for kids to the punk rock genre.


2) "Songs to Howl at the Moon By" http://www.pokeypup.com/600054104022.html - This original collection includes the fabulous lyrics of "In the Castle" by Matt the Electrician and the very catchy "Jump, Shake Your Booty" by Austin superstar Bob Schneider.


3) "Newborn" by Sara Hickman. http://www.sarahickman.com/music/newborn/OK, as its name suggests, this one isn't quite for the preschool set but is just an absolutely de riguer for baby showers, new moms, etc... Hickman's voice is amazingly soothing. Yes, I might be a bit partial because she has a song titled "Lily," but most of my fellow Austin moms also consider this one a must own.


4) "Everybody Plays Air Guitar" by Joe McDermott. http://www.joemcdermottmusic.com/shop/shop.php Kids music with a higher "cool" factor. Very listenable. Good live show as well.


5) "Kids Rock for Peas" or "The Electric Storyland" by The Sippy Cups. http://www.thesippycups.com/sippyhome/05sippy.html This mix of originals (on the latter) and covers from bands like The Beatles, Pink Floyd and The Ramones (on the former) is summed up best by an unnamed reviewer on the Sippy Cups Web site: "Put the Tylenol away. Barney is not in the house."


6) "Daddies Sing Good Night" http://music.barnesandnoble.com/search/product.asp?ean=15891382128&z=y With folksy/country/bluegrass style, this collection includes songs from artists like Doc Watson, Townes Van Zandt and the imitable Leon Redbone. Sweet, warm and rich. Kind of like the musical version of hot chocolate.

Enjoy!