Omnipotence and the Karma of Ewe

Ah, omnipotence. I am now all-knowing, at least, in the opinion of a certain two year old. And, woe be it to me if I don't have the answer. No, really, I am actually required to know the answer to any question that might happen to be raised, even if there's no bleeding way I have the foggiest clue.
Take our rides home for example. "Mommy, what's that mommy's name?" "Where's that guy going?" "What's in that truck?" And, if I admit ignorance she responds, "No, mommy, you tell me!" So, I make shit up. It's full of basketballs, the mommy's name is Ginger, and that guy is going to the podiatrist. Then I have to explain podiatrist.
Keira has also been honing her theories on cosmic justice. Keira and I were reading a book and we came to a page that describes sheep being sheared. Keira wanted to talk about what happens to the wool that they cut off of the sheep. After establishing that the wool was indeed something I knit with, Keira pounced on a prime teaching opportunity. With much clarifying of point and reviewing for comprehension, she was finally able to impart her lesson. While it was okay for me to knit with the sheep's yarn, when I was done playing with it, I had to knit something for the sheep to wear. See, the sheep was only sharing with me and I have to be a good sharer. Oh, and the sheep would be cold. {what is it with her and things getting cold?}

Voting As a Means of Maintaining a Democratic Society

Or, as Keira so eloquently put it on the way to the polling place on Tuesday:
"I don't want to go vote, mommy. I'd rather go skiing."

It's All Perspective

with a different perspective, a size 5 diaper does fit a 4" penguin (and 4" penguins need diapers)

A comment during yesterday afternoon's commute home made me think about perspective. It's easy become lulled into the assumption that everyone sees things the same way you do, even in the face of mountains of evidence to the contrary.
Take art. We have a gallery within walking distance of our home, and we're not infrequent visitors. I love art, but I'm not good at art appreciation. I know what I like, and what I like is literal. A tree must look like a tree. A pretty swirl of colors can be a pretty swirl of colors, and I may even buy it and take it home, but don't tell me that it's a tree.
It's the same story with appreciating the skill involved. I'll be the first to admit that I'm incapable of producing at least 90% of the art I view. However, just because you can paint a duck with a blender coming out of its head, doesn't make the painting a worthwhile endeavor. I mean really, who wants that?
But it's really all just perspective, right? I mean, someone out there - and probably lots of someones - really wants to see the duck with the blender. Any day, that painting will be sold, taken home, hung on a wall, and the lucky purchaser will think what a funny statement that makes. Surely, at least half of the people who've tried to read this blog have thought "dear god, who writes this shit." And, that's okay.
And, you ask, what's the comment that spurred this philosophical musing? Well, on the way home, larger than life and planted right next to the car on an on ramp is a billboard with a more-than-almost naked woman on it. In fact, if you squint your eyes, you can see oh-hint-oh-nipple (which, by the way, I can now recommend not doing while you drive.) Each time I see it, I cringe a bit because it's for cosmetic surgery, and this body image is being crammed down my daughter's throat every day. Lest you should begin to commiserate, I'll let Keira herself dispense with this line of thought. As we approach the billboard:
K: Mommy, is that a mommy? (mommy = any adult female)
M: Yes, that's a woman.
K: Mommy, it makes me sad.
M: Why?
K: That mommy is so sad.
M: Why is that woman sad?
K: Her shirt fall on the floor. She's going to be cold.
Gotcha. It's not objectifying a female or promoting the slicing and dicing of women for aesthetics. She's cold. She doesn't have a shirt, so she must be cold. I can live with that.

Surrounded By Salad Eatin' Bears

I hate to begin this post with bad news, but it's official, our home has an infestation of bears. According to Keira, these bears lurk around outside, and apparently they sometimes inhabit our ground floor. I'm not really sure what they are doing, but I have been informed that while these bears are black and eat salad, that they can also bite.
Since we live in an area with no bears, these particular denizens of our neighborhood are purely the product of Keira's imagination - which is officially here in full force. I'm positive that the bears from vacation somehow "followed" us home, and I also know where the biting and salad eating came from. Keira has told our neighbors, her friends, and her teachers, that sometimes bears are outside our house and she has to be quiet. The ursids don't seem to be causing any actual anxiety, and we don't play up the imaginary bears, so it seems pretty harmless.
On the other hand, the increased imaginary play is nothing short of hysterical. We went to our neighborhood playground this past week. There's a mini jungle gym that looks like an old fashioned car. Keira decided that she wanted to play "shopping mommy" and strapped me into my carseat. We then proceeded to go to the banana* store, the strawberry store, and the zoozeum (Children's Museum). I had to pretend to ride around in the cart, and be chastized for picking up things from the supermarket shelves. Apparently, I'm a right pain in the ass, but she keeps insisting on going to the supermarket with me, so she must like it.
*Note: banana is pronounced with the emphasis on the first a (BA nana)

Full Frontal Assault on Christmas

Nope, it' not an angry rant, as the title of this post would suggest. Instead, I thought it might be worth mentioning that it is now officially just 64 days until Christmas; which subsequently means that there are only 34 days until the international packages need to ship out.
After spending much of the last holiday season either in a blind panic or up to my elbows in last minute preparations, I vowed that this year, I would work year-round, one gift, project, or hand-craft at a time, so that by the time that Thanksgiving rolls around I can just sit back, relax, and do some rather cliched - yet fun- activities like baking cookies and decorating the tree.
All of this rather begs the question, where am I now? As of January 1, we had 59 people on our list. At present, 24 have been checked off my list, and 9 of these people's gifts are alread wrapped. Three hand-knit pieces are half-way done and bits and pieces will wrap up another 13 people - which I think I'll have time to wrap up this week, if not this weekend. That gets us over the half-way mark, with 31 days to go before Thanksgiving. I've pawned three people off on Chad, and know what I'm going to do for another 9 people. That just leaves 10 people to check off the list, which is less than three per week. All in all, I think that's pretty good.

PS - Becky - the count is 27 out of 36.

Back In Black

Well, more like white and chrome; but I digress.

It's official. We finally have a computer at home again. I now have to figure out how to use it, and we of course didn't wait for the new software release, which surely would have been advisable - but what the*%$#, we have a computer. This hopefully means that the blog is back in action.

We survived vacation. Keira was a star, and even though we pretty much broke every toddler rule in existence, we are here to tell the tale. We're now entering the holiday gauntlet, and next week the remodel ball is officially rolling.

Since photos apparently are worth a thousand words, I'm hoping that these snippets from the road will make up for about 3 months of blog posts!





and more to come - once I learn how to use this cursed computer.

Certifiably Delighted

On the count of three, everyone wish me luck - I'll be needing it. In T-60 and counting, we're heading off for a week-long vacation.

With a two-year-old manager-in-training we're going to attempt:

• two zoos


• one farm


• one night camping out


• three museums


• one national park


• 12+ hours in the car


• 5 picnics


• 1 musical dinner theater show

In less than two weeks, I may be either deceased or involuntarily committed to an asylum. Any good will you have on hand would heartily be appreciated.

On a more than a little funny note, Keira has decided that the free Visit Tennessee visitor magazine is a catalog, and that she can pick anything from there and we'll go see it. She spent part of yesterday telling her teacher about all the sparkly houses we're going to go see. Miss Corrina correctly guessed that Keira was describing riverboat casinos. It makes perfect sense since Keira is convinced that we have to visit every casino in the state of Tennessee.

Wish me luck - I sure as hell am not producing any sparkly house visits.