Story time

It’s starting to get that “winter” look outside, and it makes me want to stay in until April. But I know that would be bad for the little rug rats, and besides, I’d probably go clinically brain-dead from picking up all of the train track pieces from every flat surface of our house every day for five months. So where do we go? I’d like to go to the library to check out some new books, because if I have to read Trucks, Zoom Whizz Rumble just once more I think I’ll need medication. But the problem is that the best time to go to the library on Mondays is during “story time.” And honestly, I avoid story time like I avoid Walmart. Don’t get me wrong, all you library-lovers. I do the whole library thing. It’s just the story time that gets to me. First of all, I think there is some kind of Brown Bear, Brown Bear cult. Every time they read that book, all of the parents start chanting it along with the librarian. Picture a group of moms (sometimes a dad or two) half-whispering “Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me. Red bird, red bird, what do you see? I see a yellow duck looking at me. Yellow duck, yellow duck…” It’s just creepy. One time they read some familiar nursery rhymes, and that didn’t happen. So it’s not just because the parents are familiar with the story. There is something about that book. But I’ll tell you what, I’m not feeling the need to join in on the chanting.

The second strange thing is that the librarian often does not really read the book. Sometimes, she paraphrases or skips lines. Maybe she thinks the kids don’t have the attention span for the chosen book. But if that’s the case, then CHOOSE A DIFFERENT BOOK! Or, at the very least don’t interject in the middle of the story to explain how you are soon going to visit your own little grandchildren in Colorado, and how excited you are to see them because you don’t get to see them that often, but you’ll have to really celebrate Thanksgiving on Wednesday instead of Thursday because that’s when everyone will be there. Even I don’t have the attention span for that. But I really don’t have the attention span for much lately. So maybe it’s just me. Perhaps we’ll simply stay in for the day. We can go tomorrow. I’ll just have to listen to that truck book again tonight. Please just tell me we have a little more red wine so I can have a glass after the kids go to sleep.

Time spent

I’ve been in the mood to blah blah blah about myself a little too much lately, and I’ve neglected to fill everyone in on how my kids are doing. So here goes…

Renée has been occupying herself by unscrewing the handles off our bathroom drawers.

And Joseph, well he likes to do things like this:



What? you don’t know what that is? It's a garbage truck. Don't you see the "dumper" on the front? You see, that dumper is where we load all of our "old" toys and clothes and other things we don't want anymore. And then? And then we dump it in the back (loudly and somewhat obnoxiously) over the driver's head. Oh, and do you see the library books that didn't get returned with the rest because they were on their way to the dump site? I didn't think so, because neither did I.

Not your normal Monday morning

Seeing me today you would think that I was completely jet-lagged from a long flight to China. But really it’s just Daylight Saving Time. I don’t know what it is about that one hour, but it kicks my butt. Things like walking into the kitchen seem like too much effort. And I have to change at least four more poopy diapers today? No thanks. I’d just like to sit around and keep thinking about how I might be able to get myself a job on one of those non-partisan think tanks. Seriously, how do those people get those gigs?