& MotherReader
63 Ways to Give a Book

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Sounds Fishy


I’m totally doing this fish pedicure thing. I’m not kidding — I made an appointment for me and my seventh grader next week. It’s rare that you can do something that’s making national news, so when it’s in your backyard you’ve got to open up to the experience. Carp(e) diem!

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Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Left. Right. No! Left!

Hah! I knew it wasn’t just me. Apparently I’m in the fifteen percent of the population that has trouble telling my left from my right. The Washington Post says so. Oh, I feel vindicated and so much less alone.

Maybe now when asked a directional question, I won’t worry about that downward glance I give to my hands to see which one forms an “L” with the thumb. The beginning of Pledge of Allegiance won’t send an anxious charge through my body as I worry which hand to place on my heart. I won’t need to tell people that I must have missed Left-Right Day in kindergarten. Because now I know that I have company, and that makes all the difference in the world.

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Friday, June 13, 2008

Poetry Friday: Our Deepest Fear

I wanted to post here in the last couple of days, but I needed a little break. I wish I could convey the depth of chaos that has enveloped my last two weeks. A thirty-six hour power outage. Then two solid days without air conditioning in a brutal heat wave. Another power outage on Tuesday night until the wee hours of the morning. And all this while coordinating the 48 Hour Book Challenge, starting my job at my new branch (which is lovely), and finishing up the last week at school.

Some of this activity has been fun. I loved having tea with friends and watching my daughter enjoy her Brownie party. Some things have been stressful, like trying to finish my Girl Scout money report, realizing that I’ve made a big mistake in it somewhere and now need to dig — literally — through records to find out where the right paper is with the right number. Some things have been amusing. I’d say putting an ice pack in the hamster cage so Honey Bear doesn’t die of heat stroke falls in this category. My 8:00 a.m. call to a friend asking for anything for a Christopher Columbus costume for that very day was also a rather comic moment.

But in all of the chaos and activity and comedy, the thread running through it all is that my sixth grader is leaving elementary school today. It’s hard to believe. I remember that we made sure to move before kindergarten started so that she would have the same school the whole time. I remember taking her in that first day and looking around to find her little friends so that she wouldn’t be scared. One of the two girls we discovered that day is still her best friend now.

When I had a Bridging ceremony for my sixth grade Junior troop, they wanted a poem. Being that all of them forgot to find one, and being that I knew that they would forget, I brought my own. It’s one that I’ve seen a few times in Poetry Friday, but I want to share it on my own site today in honor of my daughter’s big move to middle school.
Our Deepest Fear
by Marianne Williamson

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness
That most frightens us.

We ask ourselves
Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small
Does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking
So that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine,
As children do.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us;
It’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we’re liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.
Poetry Friday round-up is over at A Wrung Sponge today. I’ll be back next week with news, reviews, and interviews. Shine on.

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Thursday, May 08, 2008

Oh, No

Ohmigod, the hamster escaped. The hamster that my third grader has wanted for two years and was finally old enough to get. The hamster that made it through a brief bout of “the runs” that can be fatal for hamsters, but survived perhaps due to my sheer need for her to be okay. This morning we found that she had gotten out of a less-than-perfectly closed skycap viewing area. She must have worked and worked on unscrewing that thing. But, to reference Clemency Pogue and the Hobgoblin Proxy, “There was a principle at work here, an equal and opposite reaction for every action. The jar [top] was unscrewed, and Kenn [I] was quite the opposite.”

I’m physically sick about this. (Yes, Kelly, my stomach lurched and hasn’t stopped yet.) I’ve set out my hamster traps. I’ve prayed to Saint Anthony (“Saint Anthony, Saint Anthony, please come around. Something is lost that needs to be found.”) and I’m not even Catholic. I’m planning on staying up tonight when these little guys are active to see if I can catch her then. In the meantime, I’m fighting my anxiety and sicky stomach and cleaning up every place I can to search for a little sleeping Honey hamster. The problem is that the place is a mess, and therefore there are tons of places a little hamster could hide, and that fact is just making me feel sicker and more anxious.

Please send me your good hamster-finding energy. And if you have any good tricks, pass them along.

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Thursday, April 24, 2008

Disney Adventure

We’re back from Disney World and it was great. Certainly not a relaxing vacation, but a fun one.

We flew out Friday morning, checked in at the Caribbean Beach Resort, had lunch, and were at the first park by 1:00. We took in a full day at Epcot, but skipped most of the “World Showcase” section, which is mostly buildings, food, and shops. I mean, really, in the DC area where can we NOT buy products from China or meet people from Mexico? We hit many of the major attractions, and the kids played in the Innoventions section while I dozed in a hard plastic chair.

On Saturday we slept in, having put in a solid 18 hours the day before. We got to Animal Kingdom about 1:00 and spun our wheels trying to get in the attractions. It’s hard to navigate the park, which is build like spokes off a wheel. It was always our luck to be at one end when we needed to get to the other. After a while, we got into the groove and saw most of the major attractions — including an extremely wet ride at Kali River Rapids. We decided the “you will get wet” sign should add “and may get drenched.” We missed some of the animal exhibits, but again — DC area, National Zoo. No worries there.

Sunday was the best day at Hollywood Studios. We’re big movie people, so we loved the behind-the-scenes stuff like backlot tours, stunt car driving tricks, and sound studios. The shows were great, and the park was easy to get around. We got there early and with some careful planning on the times of the shows, we were able to do everything we wanted to do. Our nine-year-old even got picked to be part of the Jedi training and join in the High School Musical dance. The big kids — my twelve-year-old and my husband — fit in two turns on the Tower of Terror. My favorite part was lunch at the Prime Time Cafe. The place is set up like a fifties home and the waitresses act like members of your family. It’s totally fun.

The Magic Kingdom was on the schedule for Monday, and even with an entire long day there, we didn’t see everything. In the end, we did see the most important things to all of us, but it was at times tiring and frustrating. The park is huge and we ended up walking across it far more than we’d planned. The park is popular, and thus very crowded. It also featured the highest proportion of crying kids and slow-moving adults. Still, we had a great time on lots of rides, including two trips on Space Mountain and a ride on Dumbo during the fireworks.

On our last day, we checked out and headed to Epcot for a couple of big attractions we had missed. The timing started off badly with a longer-than-expected process to check our bags for the airport service and to wait for the shuttle. We ended up with a long line for the first attraction of the day, which really cut into our time. However, we were able to hit the four things we had missed and get an extra turn on the Mission: SPACE ride. Then it was back to the hotel, pick up our bags, ride to the airport, fly home, and in bed at midnight.

I have to say that I’m amazed by how much we packed in. I’m also really proud of my kids, who never whined or complained, and kept up the pace for the whole time. Trips like this bring out the worst sides of people, but we are getting good at working with those idiosyncrasies. I get irritable, so I make sure to ask for some space or quiet instead of lashing out. The third grader gets clingy, so we give her extra hugs and then distract her. The sixth grader gets absent-minded, so we go over the schedule twice or three times. The husband gets angry, but it’s only occasional so we let it blow over. And, of course, these are only a small part of the experience. We’re a fun-loving family with lots of energy, so Disney World is the perfect place for us. You know, every four years or so.

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Friday, April 18, 2008

General Good News

I’ve got to say, I’m feeling pretty good. Pretty, pretty good. Why? Well, I’ll tell you.

I had more fun than I would have thought leaving a random book for a teen to find. What a kick! I put out Girls in Pants: The Third Summer of the Sisterhood at the bus stop in front of my library. The middle and high schoolers walk past there and could easily see the book propped up on the bench with a sign, “Free to Good Home.” The readergirlz bookplate was inside. When I checked later that afternoon, the book was gone. Sweet.

I found out that twelve of my fifteen Girl Scouts are coming back for Cadettes next year. This middle school transition is a time when a lot of girls drop out, so I’m thrilled that so many are staying with me. Oh and one other girl is staying in GS, but moving to a troop affiliated with her church. Not bad. Certainly makes up for my sort-of shunning at Great Wolf Lodge.

The sign-ups for the 48 Hour Book Challenge are going great. I’m so excited, guys! Keep getting the word out and if you haven’t signed up, consider it. What an opportunity to tell the PTA president that you’d love to help with the Fun Fair, but you’re reading that Friday. I’m also getting some nice prize offers, though I’ve been swamped with emails, lost the messages in the deluge, and haven’t responded to many of the kind supporters. So if you’ve offered something so far and haven’t heard from me, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m answering now — YES!YES!YES! — and I promise I’ll respond to your emails like a normal person very soon.

I was able, as I’d hoped, to transfer to a branch of my library system that is closer to my home. I also decided to cut down on my hours to have more time for my family, my projects, and my writing. The other cool thing is that the library is brand new and I’ll be part of the first staff there. I start with my new library and my new hours just in time for summer. I’m so happy.

Last, but not least, we’re going to Disney World! We’ve planned an excellent vacation before we lose my preteen entirely to the “Whatever” teen years. We went four years ago and had a blast. This time we can skip the character autographs and little kid rides, and hit all the cool stuff.

I’m sorry. This post was so indulgent. I’m not used to lots of things going well at the same time. There’s probably a protocol to sharing so much good stuff. Maybe you’d better tell me what great things are happening in your lives so I won’t feel so braggy.

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Monday, April 14, 2008

A Weekend Memoir

So this weekend my husband was shooting the new Tohubohu Productions film, “Number One With a Bullet,” with a fantastic team of actors and crew. For me this meant that I could finally get rid of the garbage-bag-wrapped pillows/blankets/basketballs that were — for want of a better word — living in my family room. As props they were unceremoniously stuffed into a friend’s car to make their movie debut.
“Well, now we know how many dead bodies fit in a Mini.”
At the same time, I was getting ready to host a slumber party for my now nine-year-old daughter. My eleven-year-old daughter had been invited to stay at her friend’s house that night, but she said that I wouldn’t let her because of the party. I hadn’t forbidden her to go, but was quite relieved that she didn’t — especially when I realized that Bill wasn’t going to make it home for the sleepover. Sure, she could blame me.
“I threw you under the bus.” “Oh, thank God.”
The theme of the party was High School Musical, and three guests were coming. Three silly, giggly, energetic guests. They’d been at the house for less than an hour when I had to get the movie started because they were bouncing off the walls. Of course, that’s when I could neither get the DVD going nor reach my husband in the middle of shooting a scene.
“I couldn’t answer the phone!!!” “I know, but it’s an emergency!!! I can’t get the DVD player to work!!!”
To his credit, he didn’t hang up on me and treated my call like the emergency it was. Because, really, it was. We watched the movie, played the Sing It! game, ate cake, opened presents, played a game, and did manicures/pedicures. As everyone was tucked into their sleeping bags, I read for thirty minutes. It was coming up on midnight and everyone was wide awake. Oh, and one girl was thinking that maybe she wanted to go home. I convinced her to stay by suggesting that I sleep downstairs too, but that meant I had to listen to her and my daughter whispering after I told them over and over again to go to sleep. I finally had to pull the birthday girl aside and gently tell her to settle down.
“Omigod! It’s two o’clock in the morning. You have got to stop talking!”
The girls were up at 7:15 a.m. — some more awake than others and all more awake than me. Still in sleeping bags, we watched the second HSM movie and munched on doughnuts. Then it was a quick craft, dressing and packing up, another round of Sing It! and home they went. Except one girl whose mother forgot the official time of departure. I didn’t mind because she and my daughter were playing nicely. Or they were until playing hide-the-Webkins went bad. The party guest hid the toy between the couch and the wall, and my daughter reached way over, fell in headfirst, and couldn’t get out.
Thump. Thump-Thump. “Wahhhhhhhhh! Help! I’m stuck! Wahhhhhhhh!”
After applying ice to her split lip and driving the last friend home, I had to wonder if drinking before noon was terribly wrong or just inappropriate. In any case, I’ve realized that I am much better with fifteen girls for four hours than four girls for fifteen hours. Lesson learned.

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Nonfiction Monday: A Memoir

I’ve considered it a personal challenge to stretch the meaning of Poetry Friday by featuring T-shirts, song lyrics, and even spam. Certainly not out of disrespect to poetry or the collaborative effort of Poetry Friday, but more as a way to push the limits of our own understanding. Well, that and my own admitted laziness.

So, now Nonfiction Monday meets my warped mind. I offer some true-to-life, non-ironic sentences uttered this weekend. Nonfictional, as it were.
  1. “Well, now we know how many dead bodies fit in a Mini.”

  2. “I threw you under the bus.” “Oh, thank God.”

  3. “I couldn’t answer the phone!!!” “I know, but it’s an emergency!!! I can’t get the DVD player to work!!!”

  4. “Omigod! It’s two o’clock in the morning. You have got to stop talking!”

  5. Thump. Thump-Thump. “Wahhhhhhhhh! Help! I’m stuck! Wahhhhhhhh!”
For fun, guess how these statements fit in to an actual, suburban mom’s life and/or memoir. I’ll be back later with the actual — nonfiction — story.

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Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Illness Update

So, my daughter’s fever turned into a nasty cold. An odd turn of illness in my book, but now I hear the same thing is going around. (“Oh, the one-day fever with the cough and sniffles! My husband had that!”) I love how we moms categorize these different illnesses and then spread the message far and wide, so that the next unsuspecting mom will have a clue. My girl felt decent over the weekend — kids do better with colds than adults do — but we certainly couldn’t have made our trip. Fortunately, no one else picked it up (knock on wood).

With absolutely no plans to our four-day weekend caused by teacher workdays, I cleaned the house. Actually, on Friday I moped around a lot, read some, and cried a tiny bit. But Saturday, Sunday, and Monday I was working like a dog. A dog with an obsessive-compulsive habit and poor organizational skills.

Honestly, I try to attack the clutter, but I’ll spin my wheels doing stupid things. Like making sure that all the Barbie dolls were in separate bins according to their princess status. Or taking the time to pull the broken furniture out of the dollhouse. I was a notch away from making sure all the Polly Pockets were dressed in stylish outfits before putting them away. I’m so bad at cleaning up. I’m a greeeat wheel-spinner. So with three dedicated days to house cleaning, there are still rooms — majorly used rooms — that aren’t good. Not good at all. Which is so depressing, I can’t even tell you.

On the positive side, we did take care of some important tasks and we did stay healthy (knock on wood). And I did read a couple of books and spend time with my family. Later I’ll talk about books, but I wanted to post an update in case my blogger friends worried that I got sucked under with the flu.

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Sunday, September 23, 2007

The Land of Little Horses

Other people go to Gettysburg for the history, the education, the connection to the past.

We went for The Land of Little Horses.

On our trip to Niagara Falls, the plan was to visit this icon of American animal miniatures as a break in the eight-hour journey. But it made sense to change the itinerary — which we only did with a promise to the third grader that we would visit The Land of Little Horses very soon. (Incidentally, it would help the tone of this post if you could speak the name of the place with a tone of grandeur. Thanks.)

Today was the day.

The Land of Little HorsesIt actually was nicely done, The Land of Little Horses. They had loads of stables and outside enclosures, and a few of the horses roamed freely around. Along paths through the woods, there were several other animals — most of the pettable type — to see and visit. There was an arena show, and a presentation of several horses, which included a history of the breed and of The Land of Little Horses (established in 1971). I had the girls do a happy dance for a future Brotherhood 2.0 video — because while it’s likely that someone will think to do their happy dance in front of a monument in D.C., I’m fairly certain that no one else will do one at The Land of Little Horses.

In all honesty, we did do a quick tour of the Gettysburg battlefield and cemetery, and there are two things I will always remember. First, as we went up to the monument to Lincoln’s Gettysburg address, I was moved by the woman sitting on the ground in front, apparently contemplating this divisive time in America’s history. As we drew closer (passing the sign about observing respect and silence on the grounds), I realized that the woman was chatting on her cell phone. And not quietly. I just had to laugh.

The second moment was at the crest of Little Round Top. As I was taking a picture of my girls waving from the top of the turret-shaped monument, my husband was behind them videotaping me taking the photo. Now I remember why I didn’t rush to replace our video camera.

Tomorrow I’ll post the list Best Books of 2007 (So Far). At least I hope so. Come to think of it, I should probably have been working on that now instead of this post. But how could I deprive you of either the photo of the smallest horse I’ve ever seen or the catchy destination name of The Land of Little Horses?

See how the adding importance to the sound of the name makes the whole reading go better? Thanks again.

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Thursday, May 24, 2007

In The Weeds

You know when you’re so overwhelmed that you want to throw your head back and scream?

Where I am now, I’m feeling a little nostalgic for that point.

December is always a busy month for me, what with all the holiday prep, but at least it’s generally focused on one broad thing. Online shopping has also made things so much easier in the last few years, as has my artificial tree. But the two-month period from the middle of April to the middle of June remains my endurance test, and adding the Girl Scout leader thing to the mix has put me deep in the weeds.

Here’s my schedule: Birthday, Girl Scout overnight trip, 48 Hour Film Project, work yearly review, Girl Scout dance, Mother’s Day, Drama Club play, Girl Scout camping, birthday, second grade biography project... breathe... 48 Hour Film Project Best of DC Screening, Dad’s visit, booktalking, friend visit, Girl Scout awards ceremony, my birthday, Girl Scout Sing-Along, middle-school booktalking, and 48 Hour Book Challenge.

I am only up to the breathe so far.

I lose focus with lots of irons in the fire. I tend to put my energy into the current situation, and then make odd choices with my next bit of free time. I’ll sit for three hours over three days to help the second grader come up with a song for her biography project on Susan B. Anthony (she really did write most of it, and it’s pretty darn good). But then with my only free hour, I’ll decide that I need to power-wash the deck instead of putting away the laundry. So while my wood deck is now actually the color of... well, wood... my kids are sitting on the floor of the family room playing a version of laundry Go Fish for matching socks. I’ll take the time to write this post as a creative release, while upstairs the past month’s copies of the Washington Post have creeped off of their tidy pile and are now forming a sort of second carpeting for the dining room. (Which is helping with the clean-up, I guess. Now instead of vacuuming, I can throw away the top layer of newspapers. Like a bird cage.) I’ll spend twenty minutes searching online for the last ten minutes of American Idol which did not tape last night, and then step over two belts, six random shoes, and seventeen Polly Pockets on my way to the stairs.

I’m not telling you this to provoke your sympathy. Well, not entirely. I just want you to know in case I owe you an email, or didn’t review your book, or haven’t been commenting at your site. I’m still reading email, but am responding pretty inconsistently. I’m not reading books much at all, and I’m less likely to read a book that I’m looking forward to because I want to read it in a good state of mind. I’ve always prided myself on going to my blogfriends’ sites and commenting, but while I go here and there to read, I’m not always thinking of things I want to say. Maybe I’ll start using true dat! and fo’ shizzle! more as sort of a commenting crutch.

I’ll be using this space for the next two weeks to profile books I’m using for booktalking at the public schools. I may even ask for your suggestions for introductions. My older daughter has always been incredible at coming up with great hooks, but I could use all the help I can get. Obviously.

Still feel like helping out? Prizes. I still want/need prizes for the 48 Hour Book Challenge. The extra book light you got as a gift and can’t use, ’cause how many do you need? Your handicraft expertise in T-shirts, jewelry, or macramé — who doesn’t love macramé? I know I do. Hit my Email MotherReader! button and send me some love... and stuff.

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Sunday, April 29, 2007

Marginally Book-Related

Today I spent all afternoon packing up the winter clothes and bringing out the summer clothes for my two girls. Hours I spent on this simple sounding task. There are three reasons it took so long.
  1. My girls have a lot of clothes.

  2. I get very obsessive/compulsive about this chore, making sure everything fits, looks good, is folded nicely, put away in the right place, and is in good condition.

  3. My girls have a frickin' lot of clothes.
It was unbelievable how many clothes there were. Now, we do get clothes for my ten-year-old from an older neighbor, plus we buy some, plus she is reluctant to give up clothes unless they really, really don’t fit, so that will fill three drawers and a closet. My eight-year-old old gets all the hand-me-downs from her older sister, plus all the cute things I can’t resist at Target or Kohl’s, plus she is reluctant to give up clothes unless they really, really don’t fit, so that fills up her two drawers and a closet. Oh, and did I mention how one grandma likes to find them quality stuff at thrift stores? So many clothes.

I can only say in my defense that I don’t buy expensive stuff, and we hand down all of the eight-year-old’s clothes to the six-year-old neighbor. Actually, there is usually so much by that time, that I give about half to the neighbor, a quarter to a younger niece, and a quarter right to Goodwill. After the six-year-old neighbor is done with them, that family gives them to a friend.

I will say, with all these clothes, I only have to do laundry half as often as normal people. I mean, there’s always something to wear. But, man, so many clothes.

I am having a similar problem with books. There are books everywhere. Books for the tween. Books for the kid. Books for me. Books to review. And I can’t get rid of any of them. I keep bringing more in, but nothing is going out.

Like the clothes, the girls are reluctant to give up books unless they really, really don’t fit them anymore. For clothes, I can draw the line at shirts that show their belly buttons or shorts that they can’t button. But can I convince them — should I convince them — that these picture books don’t fit them anymore and can be given to someone else? I don’t know. It’s hard for me too, because I remember reading these books to them, snuggled together on the couch.

Does anyone have a solution for prying old books/clothes/toys out of their children’s shelves/drawers/closets and hands?

On a completely unrelated note, have I mentioned how much I enjoy 7 Imp’s 7 Kicks? On Sunday, the blog Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast asks us bloggers to list seven kick-ass things that happened to us that week. You don’t have to list seven specifically, but I like making sure I come up with seven each week — even if I have to stretch it to include free pens from Staples or an extra hour of sleep. This week was an easy one, as I announced the 48 Hour Book Challenge, got a lot of participants (and taking more...), and some cool prizes (including one “stoked” from Roger Sutton). I also am gearing up for the 48 Hour Film Project, during which teams write, film, edit, and score an eight-minute (or less) film over one weekend. We’ve signed as our writer the wonderful author and blogger Robin Brande! I also had a great dinner with a friend, a toy that was sadly lost was found again, and my girls got great haircuts.

So many good things were happening, in fact, that I was beginning to get a bit worried. That’s not usually how things go for me. Imagine my relief when I found that I could have made an easy hundred bucks in a two-hour marketing research appointment, but it was the same time as my daughter’s drama club play. Turning down a hundred-dollar assignment to watch an elementary school play. Now that’s more like it. Equilibrium safely restored.

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Tuesday, March 20, 2007

The Dinner Preparation Theory

Yesterday I was having a bad day. The weekend had flown by without me accomplishing very much. We watched the movie Babel on Sunday night, which disturbed me so much that I stayed up way too late reading a book to chase the depressing bleakness of the movie out of my head. Monday, I felt a little sick in the morning, and my Girl Scout meeting was like pulling teeth.

After the kids did their homework, I decided to take a nap before facing the evening. I woke from my dozing state to hear several kitchen cabinet doors opening and closing. Just as I was about to get up and see what was going on, I heard (approximately) this conversation between my daughters:
10-year-old: So how is Mom feeling today?

7-year-old: I don’t know.

10-year-old: Do you think she’s tired? Disappointed in the Girl Scouts? Angry? Sad?

7-year-old: I guess.

10-year-old: That’s what I call deep depression. Now what kind of dinner is she going to make us in deep depression?

7-year-old: Macaroni and cheese?

10-year-old: No, Dad usually makes macaroni and cheese. Now here’s my theory: If Mom’s happy then she cooks dinner...

7-year-old: Like chicken and rice!

10-year-old: Right. But she’s not happy today.

7-year-old: She’ll order Chinese food?

10-year-old: No, she orders food when she’s in the middle. But she only orders Chinese food when she’s happier. You know, like last night she sent Dad out for Popeye’s chicken because she didn’t want to cook, but she wasn’t that cranky.

7-year-old: Yeah. Maybe we can get McDonald’s?

10-year-old: No, because she’d have to feel like getting in the car to get it. She’s not going to do that. I think it’s going to be... (sound of more cabinet doors opening, plus the refrigerator) Campbell’s soup, Spaghetti-O’s or hot dogs. Let’s go check.
By now I was burying my face in the pillow so they couldn’t hear me laugh, because the thing is... my daughter was totally right. They went downstairs to the computer room first, and then found me in my room, giving me time to compose myself.
10-year-old: (sweetly) Hey, Mom. What are we having for dinner?

7-year-old: (giggling) Yeah, what are we having for dinner?

Me: I don’t know. I was thinking of maybe soup, Spaghetti-O’s or hot dogs.
My oldest proceeded to let me in on some of her theory of my dinner preparations, though I don’t believe that she used the phrase “deep depression” this time. But I fooled them by making soup, frozen pizza, and hot dogs, because I am not predictable. Oh, and we were out of Spaghetti-O’s.

Kids Cookbook: Food Fun for Boys and GirlsI also decided to order the Kids Cookbook: Food Fun for Boys and Girls. I had checked it out from the library before, but hadn’t even tried to get the kids involved in making any of the stuff. Pretty much because I was too lazy. But clearly, we are in a rut and need some fresh ideas like Easy Tostada Pizzas. I mean, the word easy is right there in the name, so that’s got to be a good sign. Maybe one day I’ll advance to real grown-up cookbooks not put out by Pillsbury, but if I can get the kids to learn how to make something, that could only be better for all of us.

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