Okay, I’ll acknowledge it. I haven’t been the most attentive blogger lately. It was much easier back when I’d hover near the girls at bedtime, because there wasn’t much that I could do except read or write, and it was at the end of the day, when often I’d have a story to tell. Anyway, I almost started to tidy the house, and then I realized that I still haven’t posted since Monday night. And I was stumped. So I looked through some of my almost-posts.
One day, I took this photograph of a drawing J created for me. If you’ve been experiencing Common Core elementary school math, you’ll recognize where she’s getting this odd format for a snack request. And yes, I know it’s a terrible picture: you can click on it to make it larger and more legible:
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I also started a rant in which I discussed my cookie snobbery, but when Cute W heard about it, he advised me against publication. But I’d started out by explaining that I am raising young sweets snobs, and I think that this is okay for a wide audience:
It started when we cut down our Christmas tree. We went to Bob’s this year. I really like them. As Cute W was tying the tree to the roof, M asked if we could please get some hot cocoa on the way out. Sure, we said. You only get your Christmas tree once a year, and the occasion clearly deserves cocoa. J agreed, as she always does. We got our cocoa, sat down, and the girls each had a little sip. And then they were pretty much like: never mind. Never mind?!? What the hell? I just spent good money on that! I took a sip of the cocoa, and I thought that it was pretty good, chocolatey and sweet. But I didn’t want to drink it. I knew that we’d be eating plenty of goodies later while decorating (like in the picture here, and the recipes from my Christmas Fun page), and I didn’t want to waste the calories. But they are children. They don’t care about calories. Then they said that they were used to our cocoa at home. Cocoa made on the stove top with warm milk and Ghiradelli baker’s chocolate and milk. I haven’t had much hot chocolate lately, but apparently I’ve spoiled them for instant cocoa forever.
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I also started to keep track of what the girls were saying on New Year’s Eve, like I did last year. But the show was lamer than expected, so overall commentary was down. All I managed to get down were these:
J: “Did you hear her [Jenny McCarthy] say that that guy needs a mint? That’s really rude!â€
–and–
M: “Wait, is Robin Thicke always a creeper?â€
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And at some point I read this astrological allegory in which they said this about Libras (my and J’s sign):  “To you Libra I give the mission of service, that man may be mindful of his duties to others. That he may learn cooperation as well as the ability to reflect the other side of his actions. I will put you everywhere there is discord, and for your efforts I will give you the gift of Love.†And this seemed so apt for J, because she is always playing the peacemaker/pushover role. She agrees with whatever we say and she gives in to M constantly, and she’s always settling for what everybody else wants, both here at home and when she’s playing with her friends at recess. Which makes me a little crazy. Anyway, none of the other descriptions seemed particularly apt for my family, but J clearly conforms to what the stars are telling her.
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Here’s some beer from The Bier Abbey. Yeah, I meant to talk about this a while ago. They have many tasty beers. That’s about it. Never mind.
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Okay! Well, I don’t know how this went for you, but for me, it was the equivalent of cleaning out a closet. I feel quite refreshed, so thank you very much.
