Sweetney™

And let it be noted: this is not even really a vegetable

Me: Eat your mashed potatoes.

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Seven going on PLEASE JUST KILL ME ALREADY AND GET IT OVER WITH

Three guesses as to what this look is communicating:

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Mommy's little p-rock asskicker

She'll wear em' and she'll like em', dammit.

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Golem

At camp, an older girl tells her ghost stories. Days later she recounts these to me, wide-eyed and in hushed tones typically reserved for the sharing of deep, dark secrets. But it's like that in a way, I suppose. These dark things, these dark things that go bump in the night, are pieces of her dawning comprehension of the truth of mortality. Of death, the deepest and darkest of all secrets. Driving home from the grocery store she unexpectedly bursts into tears. "I want you to stay with me forever and ever and never leave me," she sobs. "Mommy, I...

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Kindergartener First Grader

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH [gasp] BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I DEMAND ANSWERS. Damn you, space-time continuum and your ! And don't even get me started on your ! [shakes angry fist] Physics: It's taking our children away from us. IT MUST BE STOPPED. Anyone else up for a Bloody Mary this morning? sigh.

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After seeing "Up" what do you do? You go to the comic book store, that's what.

(Incidentally, you really really need to go see "Up." Those Pixar folk have a direct line into the soft white underbelly of my psyche's most tender parts or something. It's almost eerie.) (Was Doug a Golden Retriever? I want a Doug. Truman's more like a mischievous elf or gnome dressed up in a dog suit -- hardly a dog, really. I tell him to sit and he practically rolls his eyes at me, ORLY Lady? Though perhaps a stint in The Cone Of Shame would be a tonic for that bad attitude. hmmm...)

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Between the waffles and the deep blue sea

Me: So tomorrow morning you can have some of these chocolate chip waffles. Her: What if I don't like them? Me: M, you'll like them. They're chocolate chip waffles. Her: But what if I don't? Me: Then we'll have to return you, because you're clearly defective. Her: Mom. You can't return me. Me: Are you sure? Because I think I remember a chocolate chip waffle clause that would allow us to exchange you for another, more waffle-compliant model of little girl. Her: SIGH. Mom, chocolate chip waffles DO NOT HAVE CLAWS. Such is the unintentional hilarity lurking everywhere in the...

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She wants six figures, a matching 401-K, and a desk with a slide attached to it

The Bring Your Daughter To Work day portrait: Sparkly pink Converse ballet flats: that's how we roll, holmes. (Also of note here: that purple bag she's holding is a prototype for a line made by my Aunt's company TerraCycle, which fashions everything it sells from recycled materials (like those juice pouches), but is perhaps best known for their fine worm poop products (no, seriously, their fertilizers are made from worm poop.) (Wait, worms POOP? Yes. Apparently they do.) (The More You Know!)). Annnnyway, M's day at work with Jamie went off without a hitch, I hear. I'm told one of...

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On being chopped liver

From the time that M was a baby up through her preschool years, I was, in her eyes -- and I hope you won't think me arrogant for saying so -- kind of a big deal. I suppose it's true for many babies and very young children that Mommy is the center of the known universe, and doubly true when the mother elects to stay at home with her child from infancy. But M's attachment to me had something like supernatural force behind it. She wanted to be locked in my gaze, and vice-versa, at all times. She didn't want...

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Cutest. Spam. Ever.

So today marks a milestone of sorts. See, a couple of months back we bought M a used Mac G4 Tower from Jamie's work (it's sort of a ridiculous amount of computer for a 6 year old, but I guess she'll grow in to that 80 GBs, right?). Anyway, it's been collecting dust in the corner of her playroom because setting it up would mean me dismantling my old G4 Cube to extract the Airport card, and then installing it in the new... your eyes are just glazing over at my epic nerdacity aren't they? Yeah yeah yeah. Okay, so...

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