A Dirty Story

The oldest anklebiter is trying to master the monkey bars at school. On Friday, she came home with a huge blister- her first battle scar.

All weekend, I encouraged her to keep it clean. This morning, she waved her now-almost-healed blister and said "Look at how good it looks, Mommy!"

I told her it looked great, but reinforced that she needed to keep it clean.

"Yup. I know. I lick it. That keeps it real clean." she replied.

Yuck.

Next Best Thing

So, you know how cool it is when people tell you that you remind them of a famous person? I've gotten Helen Hunt before- and more than a few tell me that my voice sounds exactly like Jodie Foster. But recently, I've gotten more than a few comparisons to this person...

This is Cameron, from the show "Modern Family."

I don't have a mural of myself as an angel above my kid's bed, but did anyone see the episode where Cameron's partner loses his prestigious job as a lawyer? Cameron puts on a brave, supportive front- but then turns his back to the camera and wails "What am I going to do? I like nice things!" My older brother immediately called me to tell me that I was starring on an ABC sitcom.

Last night's episode, included a scene where Mitch is brushing his teeth, and mumbles an unintelligible shopping list while Cameron is in the shower. Cameron later hands Mitch the random assortment of items and Mitch looks puzzled and says "I don't even remember asking you for this." Yes! That IS me!

I'm available for bar mitzvahs, bookclubs and ladies luncheons. Especially if there's someone playing a harp.

Going Viral

Last week, I thought I got a cold.

My nose was stuffy. I had a cough. My body ached. We had a rare snow day on the day I was feeling the worst- and it couldn't have come at a better time. Movies with the kids, some easy going art projects- just what the doctor ordered.

Then it morphed into the flu. Now, my child is slowly working her way through the same virus. She's missed 3 days of school. So has her little sister- because if your favorite person in the entire world was staying home to "maybe" play Wii- wouldn't your stomach suddenly start mysteriously hurting too?

We're drinking lots of tea. Eating soup. Living like the 80 year old party animals we are. Last night I surprised the sick kid with new flannel sheets for her bed. Nothing's better than soft flannel sheets- fresh out of the dryer. Except maybe a day when all returns to normal.

Put Another Dime In Your JukeBox, Baby

We recently got an Apple TV. I love it. My husband and I scurry to see who can get to it first. I'm a gracious loser, because I know he will just try and watch the first episode of the second season of the Wire and start snoring before the theme song ends. I've seen the first five minutes of that episode 15 times now. It's riveting.

Apple TV made me realize that my kids will never watch tv the same way I did. (Did you come here to discuss worldy issues? I think not). They will never know what it was like to have "The Wizard of Oz" air once a year- the day before Thanksgiving. They will not be six years old, and borrow a black and white little (like 8 inch mini cube) television from your parents, that you set up in your pink checkered bedroom to watch your first glimpse of "Gone With The Wind."

I started my affair with puffy dresses at a very early age.

In other news- I succumbed to the world of Groupon and bought a swanky haircut/highlight/deep conditioning at a swanky salon. The salon is gorgeous. My stylist appeared to be a short, intense hairdresser with freakishly strong hands. Despite my pleas of "for the love of all that is not frizzy- I have the world's most tender head" at one point, he flexed his strong knuckles and SQUEEZED my hairs so tightly I now look like I've had Botox. Win? I still can't decide.

As for the haircut- it looked great until I got home. And now I look like Joan Jett had a baby with Snookie- pouf, and shaggy layers. Crikey. Luckily, once my normal frizz sets in it will detract folks from asking me to sing a New Jersey rendition of "I love Rock n' Roll".

Grandma Magic

I read an article recently, about a General Store in Brooklyn. The writer of the article loved the "Grandma magic" the store conveyed- and that got me to thinking. I love Grandma magic. While I don't subscribe to the lace doily fan club, I do have a passion for all things vintage- and believe everyone should incorporate some "Grandma" magic into your house. It makes it cozy. It makes it warm. It makes it feel like home.

What is Grandma magic? Today I took the kids to the park, and while I watched them tunnel down the slide, I wrote a few suggestions down.

Cloth napkins
Candles in the bathroom
Sunday dinner
Clean sheets
Showtunes
Silver polish
Billie holiday
Botanical prints
Lemon furniture polish
Herbs in flower pots
Dishwasher running at bed time
Fluffy towels
Well organized tool box
The smell of perfume (Chanel no.5)
Pot roast in the oven
A well timed cocktail
A beautifully set table on a Tuesday
Fresh flowers
A pot of freshly brewed coffee
A pink box from the bakery wrapped in twine
An impromptu trip to the toystore

So that's my goal for the week- to work a little Grandma magic into my home. But if you guys see me crocheting a doily? Slap me back to my senses.

Blurgh.

After the holidays, I gave myself a virtual pat on the back. Almost mid-January, and we seemed to have escaped any bouts of sickness.

I should know better.

A quick stomach virus quickly blew in. Left trembling in its wake, my older daughter got the Fifths Virus. Then the little one got impetigo.

I haven't been alone in 168 hours. Yes, I'm counting.

The dog? He's a happy camper. The Mom? Not so much.

George

I haven't talked about this guy in awhile.

This is George.

He is adjusting to Texas. He doesn't like the heat, and is apparently allergic to everything in our backyard. He loves to watch the squirrels race by- but quickly learned that barking at them will set off our burglar alarm and cause quite a bit of hulabaloo.

Today is the kind of day that George loves. It's a sick day. My little one is home with a stomach virus, and yours truly isn't feeling that great either. We both fell asleep for a bit, and when I woke up- some kind and considerate four legged friend left a tennis ball on my stomach.

Subtlety is not one of George's strong points.