Ah, I like a book review, especially when I learn something new along the way, too.

Did you know that Dr. Seuss (Theodor Geisel) wrote 44 books total? They have been translated into 30 languages. He won the Pulitzer Prize and eight honorary degrees along the way, and works based on his stories have won three Oscars, three Emmys, three Grammys and a Peabody. Yay, Dr. Seuss. I could have guessed at most of that, but somehow I never realized that Theo LeSieg (Geisel in reverse, get it?) and Rosetta Stone were his pseudonyms.

Hmm. Very interesting.

This year is the 50th anniversary for “Happy Birthday to You!” ($14.95, Random House) and a fun “party edition” has just been released. Along with “On Beyond Zebra,” “Happy Birthday to You” as always struck me as one of the stranger Seuss’s, what with the “hippo-heimers,” the “mustard-off” pools and clubs, the “Time-Telling Fish.” You decide for yourself.

“And here comes your cake! Cooked by Snookers and Snookers,
The Official Katroo Happy Birthday Cake Cookers.”

The baby book ($9.99, Random House) is just as crazy and fun, with scratch and sniff, flaps, and moving pictures, so you can go all interactive with baby.

“Princess Baby Night-Night,” by Karen Katz ($14.99, Random House, Schwartz & Wade Books), is the adorable sequel to “Princess Baby.” It’s pink and sparkly, with lots of stuffed animals flying around and an irrepressible little princess who does not want to go to sleep. It’s charming.

Reviewed today:

Just talked with the staff at my kids’ school — apparently the cold turns into the flu, then the flu turns into a cough. “And the cough lasts. And lasts.”

So, we’re starting spring break early, and not in the manner planned.

Nevertheless, I will persevere.

Now watching Mr. President — I tivo’ed it last night. Kevin Eubank wore a suit in honor of the visit. Heh heh heh. Who do I have a bigger crush on? Kevin? The President? Josh Turner? It’s a toss-up.

Leno: “Your mom will be so proud.”
Kevin: “Oh, yes, she will be, Jay.”

Heh heh heh.

The President: “Let me just say, I think Kevin looks good in a suit. He looks a little like Secret Service.”

Best quote from President Obama: “They say if you want a friend in Washington, get a dog.”

Bloggers I’m reading this week:
Miss Zoot
Posts from Portland
Wacky Mummy (cuz I like Wacky)
i am bossy
Under the Tuscan Gun

Have a good Friday, everyone.

wm

Here, let me entertain you in my own lame-ass way…

The dishwasher, she is working. Sears Service Guy came by. Unhooked it all, hooked it back up and voila! Washing, washing, washing the dishes. “It’s like when you take your car to the mechanic, they drive it a hundred miles and say, ‘It ran fine for me.'” True, that.

Wacky Girl has been home sick most of the week with cold, asthma, and need to write new novel. It’s a mystery-thriller-kinda “Twilight” type book. Only without the vampires — instead they’re… I can’t tell you. It’s her novel and if she sees me writing this she’ll be most unhappy. She’s already cranky and thrashy from the flu.

Wacky Boy threw up all night last night and it was very sad and also I now have 14 or 20 loads of laundry to do. And the in-laws arrive for spring break day after tomorrow and hopefully my husband will have spoken with them before they read this blog post to tell them, Looking forward to seeing you! We have The Grippe, you don’t mind, do you? So, dear in-laws, if this is the first you’ve heard of it, hey! We’re sick. What else is new.

I want them to visit and am a little agitated that we’re down and out. We have not seen them in an extremely long time — am willing the virus(es) to go away.

And I can’t see my grandma for a few days, since we’re all buggy.

I’m knitting five new scarves to keep busy, and cleaning the house. Also, you know. Laundry.

Hockey God fixed coffee for us and stuck around while I ran to the store for Recharge, popsicles and Saltines, then left for work.

The End

random thoughts:

* we have a new dishwasher. cuz the old one broke is why. it only worked if you wedged a butter knife into the latch, and that seemed a little kooky to me. (Ed. Weds. a.m. to say: The one that was just installed, however, doesn’t work at all. Sears is reportedly coming back out tomorrow. Am now consigning myself to the Zen of washing dishes by hand. It’s OK.)

* I finally got a Facebook page. Whatever. Whatever Facebook, I think you’re a little clunky is all.

* I worked out 2 days in a row. Woooooo-hoooooooooooooooooo!!!!

* so far 3 of my old friends and none of my ex’s have found me on Facebook. Woooooooo-hoooooooooooooooooooo!!!

* I am confused because Hockey God has been playing a song on the piano called “On the Lagoon” but it sounds like “Que Sera, Sera.” So whenever I hear him, I keep expecting him to bust out with, “When I was just/a little girl/I asked my mother/what will I be?” But he never does.

* Dinner? I’m thinking pizza, too, how did you know?

* That’s it.

xxox

wm

“Triolet on a Line Apocryphally Attributed to Martin Luther”

— A.E. Stallings

Man, no one loves Randy Travis like my grandma, my late grandpa and me. So imagine my joy when Hockey God sent me this:

“I know every engineer
on every train
all of their children
and all of their names
and every handout
in every town
and every lock that ain’t locked
when no one’s around…”

Sign here to show your support for making March 31st a national holiday in honor of the late Cesar E. Chavez.

Michael: “Why do you have a diary?”
Dwight: “I keep secrets from my computer.”

I’ve kept a diary since I was nine years old. That’s right, Internets. I don’t tell you everything. But since I’ve started my blog, the diary hasn’t been put to as much use as it could be. Why write it down when I can type it up? But. But, but, but… lately I’ve been scribbling for pages on end. It is very fun, therapeutic and sprawling and a little weird, because when I’ve finished a volume I just toss it into the closet and what’s the point? There is no point, that’s the point.

“If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him.” (You ever heard that one before?)

There are some things I don’t want to blog. Alternately, there are some things I don’t want to commit to a diary.

There is a lot to say, much of it boring, but I don’t care. Some of it is worth keeping. You can skip the entry; my kids can toss the diaries into the recycling bin after I’m gone. Whatever. I like having some different spots to stash it all.

Grandma update: She is almost 89 and feels like hell. Questions? I love her. Her cookbook… still a work in progress, but we’ve almost figured out all the details.

If you have a recipe, e-mail it to me and I’ll include it.

Hockey God and Wacky Girl: at a hockey game.

Wacky Boy: keeping busy with scotch tape. Refusing to change into pajamas, refusing to put away laundry, refusing to pick out clothes for tomorrow. Typical.

Wacky Mommy: Tell it like it are… would you? Ha ha ha ha HA! Well. It’s spring here and I’m glad about that. The crocus, daffodils, daphne, all are blooming and beautiful. We’re seeing a lot of people, in raincoats, strolling by with their dogs, who are also in raincoats. That’s kinda funny.

I’ve been studying some and reading fiction a whole lot and drinking not enough tea and way too much coffee. If I could limit myself to just three cups of coffee a day I would be happy but damn. I like my java. Trying not to watch too much TV, but I think this is the best season ever for “Friday Night Lights” and it is irresistible to me. Also loving “Brothers & Sisters” jesus god please help us, because if you had ever told me I would like a show starring Calista Flockhart I would have said HAR HAR HAR to you.

Also, Wacky Boy and I went to see “Beverly Hills Chihuahua” today and it turned out to be a kinda subversive little movie. That was unexpected. I liked that.

All for now.

xxox

wm

…on the Today Show.

(PS — her book tour stops at Powell’s in Portland, Ore. on March 30th.) (Yay.)

One day, long, long ago, there lived a woman who did not whine, nag, or bitch.

The End

(That was courtesy of Zip.)

Listen, my friends, if you are still out there, that is? Are you there? ?Si o no? It was a rough day today. It has been a rough few months, I think you have probably already figured this out. I cannot give details. But I will tell you this… I am lucky to have you, and I am blessed to still have my grandma. How many of us can say this, once we hit our forties?

I am 44, my grandma is 88. I called her on our last birthdays (they’re a week apart) and told her, You are double my age! She thought that was hiiiiii-larious. I love my granny for a lot of reasons, but the number one reason is 1) she will always talk about my cousin with me, when I am missing him and the second reason I love her so is 2) she’s zany.

It is tough seeing her down and not feeling well and not hardly zany at all. I am not feeling very zany, either. I cry all the time now, from stress, from my grandma being sick, from this flu/cold thing that won’t leave. Because right now everything makes sense and nothing makes sense.

It looks like my family leave will be approved (for 12 weeks, unpaid except for the first bit of it), and that’s about the only good thing I can say for today. Not true — L took me out for lunch. We had soup and lattes. And she gave me two books! (Nothing says “love” to a librarian like books.) I fixed manicotti and broccoli for dinner, that was good. I mean — fake it til you make it with this motherhood thing, eh? The kids worked on homework and piano and they worked extra hard on “being kids” which is where they shine the brightest. Now I’m going to watch Jeopardy with my husband and try to not be distracted.

I have a couple of little projects I’m working on. I’m also working on the big project of finishing my Grandma’s cookbook that I started way back when — it’s almost ready for production (ie — Hockey God will take over).

Mom and I went out to see Grandma today — she was sick all morning, after having an okay day yesterday. She slept most of the afternoon. That is good, she needs her rest. And when she’s sleeping, she’s not throwing up. The nausea is doing her in. (The doctors are trying to figure it out — I’m blaming the Ativan, which is supposed to help with nausea but sometimes has the opposite effect.)

I have never seen my Grandma sleep. Ever. She goes, goes, goes. She looked just like an angel, and that was too intense because… I’m not ready for her to be an angel. I want her to keep on being wild and out-of-control and stirring up trouble.

It never occurred to me until today that my Grandma might stop being wild someday.

Please keep sending her good thoughts, would you? I don’t want her to be hurting. I don’t know when we’ll feel zany around here again, but it will be a long while, is my guess.