1) worried too much about surgery

2) took the kids to the bar instead of doing homework with them and… whatever else we should have done instead of going to the bar. a craft project or something? who knows. and ok, we did do some homework at the bar, but still had to study for geometry quiz when we got home. She’s in fifth grade. I didn’t have any geometry quizzes til I was a sophomore in high school. That’s what happens when your art teacher is also your math teacher. (God rest your soul, Mr. Art M., you were the best damn teacher. i loved you a bunch and you knew it.)

3) Abandoned the kids and slept a lot. (They stay up, on average, one-two hours later than I do, lately.) (Bright note: they’ve been much grouchier than i this week for a change, hahahaha.) Wacky Girl, when I told her I was going to bed, “Yeah, I’ll just be up all night studying for this quiz, go right ahead.” So I stayed up with her. She flew through the pages, “Hey — I know all of this!” Girl is wicked good at math.

4) ate the salad that was intended for the guinea pig.

5) didn’t clean either fish tank (fed them, though)

6) did not pay bills yet.

7) forgot to drink water all week and got extremely dehydrated. wine and coffee do not count as rehydration.

8) made steve do all the chores in the morning (breakfast, lunches, getting kids out the door). typical.

things i’ve done right this week…

1) worked out a couple times

2) my hair looks amazing. cuz i washed it and put it into a ponytail, that’s why. hahahahahaha.

3) i started the laundry.

You? Am I the only one beating myself up around here?

have a fantastic whatever day this is.

xo

wm

ps screw this list. i’ve done a ton of things right this week. the end.

now on my nightstand (and the coffee table, and stacked up on the floor, and in my car:

“Child Sense: From Birth to Age 5, How to Use the 5 Senses” was just released. It was written by Priscilla J. Dunstan (Bantam Books, 2009, $26, 303 pages). According to her press packet, Dunstan “burst onto the parenting scene” when she appeared on the Oprah show to reveal her “revolutionary discovery” that all babies make about five sounds to communicate their needs.

OK. I’ll tell you everything I know about parenting, and it all adds up to five, too:

1) Nurse if you can; don’t nurse if you can’t.
2) It’s not the terrible 2’s, it’s the terrible 10’s. Remember: They’re all different. They’re all the same, but oh my goodness, they are all different.
3) Try to find common ground with your partner, because eventually (if all goes according to plan), the kids will move out and it would be nice if you knew the person you were left living with.
4) First you’re thinking, oh my gosh! First teeth! She’s finally walking! We’re going to give her a pony for her birthday! Then before you know it, they’re screaming for money. My son, honest to Christ, just yelled at me, “We’d spend more money if you’d give us more.”

(Let us just pause for a moment to mull over that statement. “We’d spend more money if you’d give us more.” I am thinking, these are not children who deserve an allowance. Oh, no. Especially since their dad and I are the ones who got stuck cleaning out the frickin’ guinea pig cage last night.) (The class guinea pig is with us for the holidays. She is awfully cute, but the cage gets stinky.)

Where was I? Oh, yes.

5) They break your heart every day because they fill your heart every day. What with the guinea pigs and murderous African dwarf frogs and all.

And one more thing — as a parent, I firmly believe that you should take all of the credit, none of the guilt.

Next? “Sugar Blues,” by William Duffy (Warner Books, 1975, 255 pages). I have been wanting to read this book for years — Steve and others have highly recommended it to me, the lil sugar junkie. So I finally reserved a copy from the library, and it is a shredded paperback with the teensiest, tiniest print you have ever seen. I can’t read this thing. In fact, as I type this, I have to keep taking my glasses off and putting them back on, just to type and edit.

Pathetic, really.

OK. I’ll break down and buy a copy.

Next?

“Simplicity Parenting: Using the Extraordinary Power of Less to Raise Calmer, Happier, and More Secure Kids” was written by Kim John Payne, M.Ed. (Ballantine Books, 2009, $25, 235 pages). Really great book — I’m about halfway through, and have found several of the passages to be moving. I especially liked his comparison between the children of Asian refugee camps and the British children Payne worked with in the early ’90s. He has some insights that I appreciated about issues of control involving sleep, food and play. This one is going out on loan, along with the Dunstan book.

I’m still finishing “Water for Elephants,” it’s awfully good.

Have a great week.

— wm

Steve’s latest story, a magnum opus, no less.

This is what I heard, all three in a row, the other morning when I woke up. Isn’t that just great? So happy. Waking up happy is a beautiful thing, baby, can u dig it? And these three songs, playing one after another, with little DJ interruption, is the reason why Steve wants to jab himself in the eyeballs come 6 a.m. — cuz he just. can’t. reach. my clock radio aiiiiiiiiiii make it stop!!! she needs to set it to NPR like I do aiiiiiiii…

“love her madly” — the doors

“the backstabbers” — o’jays (My daughter, watching this video, “Look at their hair! They wore it so… big.” me, getting all misty, “yeah, all the guys wore their hair like that,” (thinking of the black guys I went to grade school and high school with) “it looked great.” Wacky Girl, “But the girls wore it big, too!” me: “Honey, you should have seen Grandma’s hair, it was big.”)

“grazin in the grass is a gas baby can you dig it” — the friends of distinction

“And it’s real, so real, so real, so real, so real, so real
Can you dig it
Whooo-oooh”