playdate

Things that make you go boo

Our Thanksgiving table was decorated with three toilet paper roll turkeys, a paper plate wreath and some handprint birds.

I’ve always been a sucker for kids’ crafts.

This last week, I’ve been trying to remember how to crochet. While I could probably lay my hands on the grimy potholder from ever so long ago, apparently things you learned thirty (eek!) years ago? Just don’t stay in the memory bank that long.

Side note to Dr. Phil: Yeah, that ‘muscle memory’ thing you kept pushing when I was pottying the kids? I think we just debunked that one.

Anyhoo, I now have a lot of snarled yarn and several hooks. What to do?

The masochism of beauty

No I am not a masochist.

At least I don't think I am, though a logical person might dispute that assertion. I mean, logically, why would I willingly submit to, and spend my hard-earned money on, a painful ritual involving hot wax and tender bits?

You've probably done it too, haven't you? And there's no logic to it. It's the masochism of beauty and it's made a victim of even smart and enlightened women for thousands of years

Look at Me!

Not too long ago, our preschooler came home with his daycare report card.  Well, I guess it's not exactly a 'report card' since he doesn't get graded or anything.  It's more like a developmental progress report.  On it was the comment that our son "likes to call attention to himself".  It was unclear whether or not this was supposed to be a positive or a negative comment, but regardless, we couldn't have been more proud.  As a child of two actor parents, it's no surprise that our kid likes attention.

Atonement

On this, the eve of Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish year, the day of atonement, I thought it only fitting that I confess my sins – my food sins, that is.

Now, don’t go clicking away in horror – It’s been a rough year for me and my family, but I feel like I’ve made my peace. I’m down with the G-O-D. This is not about blaspheme. This is about…gastropheme. And there’s plenty of forgiveness to ask for there.

Making a Spectacle of Yourself

I first wore glasses when I was a mere three years old. Having had a three-year-old now, I'm not sure how my mother ever kept them on me. In fact, I would guess that a lot of children have some difficulty adjusting to glasses. They are, let's face it, a sort of weird thing to have on. You see them and feel them on your face, and for someone accustomed to being unencumbered by them, not so great. Now, of course, there are extremely cute specs for little kids, far removed from the ugly plastic things of the 19mumblemumbles, but still, hard to get used to for some.

So we parents, we emphasize the need for them, we keep after them, and all the things that parents must do. But putting a positive spin on them is something that we can turn to authors for a little help with. Need some books to help put things in perspective or help the bespectacled future look a little brighter? Here you go. You're welcome.

playing dress up

Halloween approaches.

Are you making a costume this year?

I’ve  suffered through long nights of taping and sewing and painting and hot-glue-burning-my-fingers and cursing (and drinking!) and hunting through the junk drawer at three a.m. because darn it, that doo dad would be perfect, and it’s around here somewhere….

My New Best Friend is a Total Gossip

Spotted:  MD at the computer trying to write a post while the baby naps.  Think fast MD, or your column will be a big fat blank, just like your sense of style.  Rumour has it that she wanted to write something about the new fall line-up of TV shows.  Trouble is, there's not much to talk about, is there MD?  True-Blood and Fringe are total projects, but otherwise any show making the cut is a known quantity:  House, Heroes, Dexter, The Office, How I Met Your Mother, Lost, Battlestar Galactica.  Don't get me started on, ugh, the new 90210.  What were you thinking, CW?  Thank god you've redeemed yourself with the brightest fashionista on the scene..

Pickled Pink!

If you haven’t figured it out already, I am a dork. I am a dork with a long history of good ideas gone wrong; good intentions gone totally retarded. I have another one to add to the list: it began with a bright idea that swiftly went dim, and 10 pounds of beets that narrowly averted an unfortunate, and premature, trip to the great green bin in the sky.

I decided to pickle, and can, beets.

Great idea, right? The delicious little beasties are very much in season right now, and I am a domestic goddess. What could go wrong?