New England Mamas

Supah Tuesday

Whatever about the Super Bowl, I can't wait until Super Tuesday.  I've already informed my husband that I shall be monopolizing the television that day.  All day.  MSNBC is going to start election coverage at, like, 6 a.m..  I may have to fight my toddlers over this - they are little Noggin addicts - and pray that they take  a nice, long nap.  I'm going to be in political geek heaven.  It's too bad I don't know any other like-minded people or I'd have a primary party. 

The endorsement of Barack Obama by Ted Kennedy was interesting to see.  According to several sources, including The Huffington Post, Kennedy really gave Bill Clinton an earful, saying his comments were inappropriate for a former president.   I couldn't agree more.  Those few days when Bill Clinton was out there making remarks made me lose a lot of respect for the man and he was someone that I really liked and respected.  It's disappointing and I'm sick of being disappointed by the Clintons. 

When the New York chapter of N.O.W. said that Kennedy's endorsement of Obama was a betrayal of all women, I cringed.  I don't know how his endorsement is a betrayal of anything.  Am I betraying all women by voting for Obama?  I don't think so.  I'm not going to vote for someone just because she's a woman.  If I don't like her, why should I vote for her?  Shouldn't I base my vote on issues, not on gender or race?  It seems to me that N.O.W. is endorsing Hillary Clinton simply because she is a woman, not because of anything she's done for women.  I won't vote for her because she voted for the war in Iraq, plain and simple.   And now she's saying that she didn't expect Bush to use the use of force resolution to go to war.  Um, duh.  Jesus.  I know she's not a stupid person, but man, that sure makes her seem like one.   

My other beef with Hillary Clinton is that she stayed with Bill after he left office, not out of any love for him but for purely political reasons.  It was cold and calculating and I think she would have scored more points by leaving him and then going on to be elected to the Senate.   She has relied on his good reputation and the fondness that people still have for him to boost herself politically.  She's ridden his coattails into the Senate and now on to the Presidential primary.  It annoys the shit out of me.  If she wants to be a strong woman, she should stand on her own two feet and prove that she is capable of being president, that she doesn't need her husband to get her there.

Here's hoping that something gets decided on Tuesday.  I don't know if my nerves can take much more of this. 

Star Struck

Last Saturday, in an attempt to alleviate weeks of cabin fever from this God Awful Winter, we set off on a family field trip to the Boston Children's Museum.

There's nothing I love more than spending Saturday's at a germ-infested-museum with my angelic kids.

So I packed up the antibacterial gel, Lysol, surgical gloves and a box of tissues, and we set off into Boston. [No, I'm kidding! You didn't think I'd really bring a can of Lysol, did you?]

As we were driving into the city, and nearing the museum, I noticed there was a parking garage named after me. Now, my maiden name is not all that common, so to see a parking garage sign all lit up in big, bright, sparkly, blinking lights that said: "Maiden Name Parking Garage", well, that pretty much made my entire day.

I might have imagined the blinking lights part.

We ended up parking in some other not-nearly-as-exciting parking garage, but one that was apparently closer to the museum because, you know, the kids and all.

We arrived at the museum with minimal amounts of whining after the brisk, three block walk. And the kids were pretty well behaved too.

The museum has recently been renovated so upon entering and paying a portion of a college fund contribution admission the first thing that any kid under the age of 30 10 gets sucked into is a massive climbing structure. It spanned the three story building, and, due to the countless number of bodies in there at once, there were several log jams along the arduous climb to the top.  There was no telling how long our kids would be in that thing. I think there were parents there from the day before still waiting for their kids to emerge.

So I hunkered down and engaged in one of my favorite activities. People watching.

And that is when I saw Her.

She was walking towards me.

Then she stopped. Two glorious feet in front of ME.

I got a little sweaty. My breathing became short and labored. My knees started to buckle beneath me.

Just as I had gathered the courage to approach her, she disappeared into the crowd.

I turned to one of the employees who had been talking to her.

"Was that MISH MICHAELS?", I asked.

Yep. In the flesh.

Yeah, I know, not many people would have heart palpitations over seeing a local weather personality.

But I like weather.

If I had any aptitude for Math and Science I would have been a meteorologist.

I like storms. I like to track storms. I like to compare weather forecasts from all the major networks. I can tell you which meteorologists are the most accurate, and which ones exaggerate snowfall totals.

Mish Michaels? She's one of the good guys. I mean, gals.

And she's really, amazingly skinny, which is what I focused on when I ran to tell Brian that I had seen her, to which he said, "Mish who?".

He doesn't share in my weather enthusiasm. Obviously.

Always the team player, Brian volunteered to go check her out himself.

He came back a few minutes later and assured me that my ass is smaller than hers.

And that is one of the many reasons why I love him.

I may not have the ability to read the Doppler Radar, but my husband thinks I wear a Mish Michael's size two.

So it's all good.

Eventually, the kids emerged from the climbing monster, we toured the rest of the museum, and headed back to the no-name parking garage.

And so far we're all healthy.

Explanations from a New York Sports Fan Spouse

I know I said I was writing a post on Pump It Up this week, but I am pushing it back to focus on something that has people around here more pumped up than Pump It Up anyway, specifically the subject of New York vs. New England sports. My husband, known in the blogosphere as the Big Giraffe, was born in New York City and despite spending what I consider to be his formative years (from when he was 2 until he was 13) on LoNG Island, he considers himself a total City person.  He did live and go to school in various boroughs of New York City until he was 29.  Although I couldn't care less about football, I understand that this year's Superbowl is a bit stressful for him, but I don't think I understand exactly where he is coming from.  Here's why...

Alex Elliot (AE):  So are the Patriots really going to win the Superbowl?
Big Giraffe (BG):  Probably.  Unfortunately, they may be the best football team to have ever played.

AE:  Why unfortunately?

BG:  Because you know I hate the Patriots.
AE:  I have never understood that.  Why do you hate the Patriots.
BG:  I don't know.  I have hated them for as long as I can remember.
AE:  But they are our home team now, and the boys will root for them.
BG:  I am sure the boys will root for them.  I won't.  I root for all New York teams.
AE:  So are you rooting for the Giants this week?
BG:  Yes.
AE:  Because they are a New York team?
BG:  No, because they are playing against the Patriots.
AE:  So you aren't a Giants fan?
BG:  No.  I don't have any strong feelings about the Giants.
AE:  Then do you root for the Jets?
BG:  I hate the Jets.  The only team I hate more than the Jets are the Patriots.
AE:  I thought you root for all New York teams?
BG:  I do.  Neither the Giants nor the Jets are New York teams.
AE:  Aren't they called the New York Giants and the New York Jets?
BG:  They are called that, just like the Manchester Airport is called Manchester Boston Regional.  They can call it whatever they want, but the airport is in New Hampshire.  The Giants and Jets play in New Jersey.
AE:  It is just on the other side of the river!  I could get from Midtown Manhattan to the Meadowlands faster than I could have gotten to your old apartment in Brooklyn.
BG:  Brooklyn is in New York City.  The Meadowlands are not.
AE:  So who is your favorite football team?
BG:  Mumble mumble.
AE:  Who?
BG:  Mumble mumble.
AE:  I still can't hear you.
BG:  The Miami Dolphins.
AE:  Aren't they the worst team in football?
BG:  Mumble.
AE:  What?
BG:  Yes.  They suck.  They are still my favorite team?
AE:  But they don't play in New York!
BG:  There are no New York football teams.  Well except for Buffalo, but they don't count because they are nowhere near New York City.
AE:  They are closer than Miami.  So are the Giants, Jets, and for that matter, the Patriots.
BG:  Look, if I were rooting for teams that play in the suburbs of New York City, I probably would root for the Patriots.
AE:  New England is not a suburb of New York City, except for Southern Connecticut.
BG:  Southern Connecticut is in New England, so at least part of New England is a suburb of New York City.  We can debate about the economic dependence of the rest of the region.
AE:  Good luck with that debate.  So what will you tell the boys if their home team loses this week? BG:  To paraphrase a friend of mine from San Diego, 18-1 is nothing to be ashamed of.
AE:  You and he think that line is funny?
BG:  I do.  He found it funnier two weeks ago before the Patriots beat San Diego.
AE:  I expect you to be in the same situation next week.

My Ultimate: Technical Difficulties

("My Ultimate" will run every-other Tuesday and will feature any topic that hops into my head.  The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the other New England Mamas. . . although they should).

'My ultimate'  would be an insurance company that doesn't suddenly deny covering an allergy medicine that I have used for years, forcing me to try a different brand that is sold over-the-counter (or pay between double and triple my co-pay for the one my body likes).  This other brand is "prescription strength" and supposedly a pretty even switch, except that, after taking my first pill, I feel like I've been hit by a truck.  A truck driven by people with tranquilizer guns.

So, it is now 4:10pm and I have just dragged myself out of bed, after starting the morning promisingly enough with a "thumbs up" visit to my dentist.  My children have been watching PBS Kids all around me in bed, like good little munchkins.

If this post doesn't show it, I still feel like I am in a fog; therefore the 'real' "My Ultimate" column will have to wait until this fog lifts.  The title was a good one:  "Things that Suck (and Blow)". . .I'll leave you with that teaser as I sign off, a bit dazed and confused.

Making Books with Blurb

I am going to write about this fantastic service I used recently, and not because I was solicited to do so. I WISH I was solicited--it would have saved me at least $40. But I'm happy to report that I came across and utilized the services of www.blurb.com all of my own volition, and it was worth every penny.

As my husband's birthday present, I compiled most of the blog posts I've ever written that have concerned him and I made a book. A real, honest-to-goodness, hardcover book. It had a shiny jacket and everything. Using my words and my photos (okay, mostly Lauren's photos), I designed the cover and laid out all the pages. The final result was a bound production that would not look out of place on the most discerning of coffee tables.

I gave it to my husband and he got a chuckle. "Still trying to turn me into a reader, huh?" he asked. "Good idea--ease me into it with a short book, all about me."

The 8 x 10 inch hardcover was $29.95 for 40 pages. The cost of shipping and handling was approximately $10 more. The quality was fantastic. I fully expect this chronicle of my husband's first two years of fatherhood to be a memento for generations to come.

I created the book using a free Blurb program that was easy to download and navigate.  Since it's not difficult to confuse me, that's saying a lot.

The whole experience was so exceptional that I already have plans for my next Blurb book, which will take the form of my thoughts on motherhood, to be given as a gift to my own mom and mother-in-law for that May holiday in their honor.

It's exactly what my mother has been waiting for all these years. What she wants for Mother's Day--she says, each time--is good children, and maybe something homemade.

Entertainment Overload

My husband is a graduate student.  This creates any number of pros and cons in our relationship and family life, but the bigger picture is, theoretically, worth it.  He's aiming for graduation and the job he wants instead of ongoing misery as a high school teacher (more power to you if you can be, or be married to, a high school teacher; clearly none of the adults in my house can handle it with proper sanity and aplomb).

The most recent saga had to do with comprehensive exams [cue scary music].  He was assigned to write two papers over the course of a month, and to take an in-class math test (but with no numbers and in topics I can't begin to conceptualize - and I went to an engineering school for my undergraduate degree, so I'm not math-phobic).  It's hard work, and we really didn't see him much over the past month.  And in the last week, he was really feeling the crunch, so I decided to dive into the cute and brightly-lit world of indoor children's entertainment, just to clear out the house and help the small ones sleep better at night.  I thought I'd share some of our experiences, along with a huge sigh of relief that my children, being 3 and 7, are big enough to function independently at all of these venues.  I have ongoing back pain from a stupid and graceless fall a few weeks ago, and the stooping-and-chasing required of parents of smaller mobile critters at these places would've about killed me.

Children's Museum of Maine, Portland, ME
I love the name of this type of establishment:  "children's museum."  When you go to an art museum or a science museum, what do you see hanging on the walls?  But never fear, children's museums are about entertaining the wee ones, not finding the ideal height and lighting with which to highlight their anatomies.  If this is a disappointment to you, please don't attend any further birthday parties at my house, mmm-kay?

Friend Gretchen and I took the kids up, and met her mother there, for an afternoon.  Very clean and well-lit, fun stuff for the kids to do.  A touch on the overpriced side, in my opinion, given that there's not only nothing for parents to do and no alcohol served on-site, but there's not a lot of places to sit comfortably and watch, but nor are the displays all adult-accessible.  But there's a solution to this: contact your local library.  Many have discounted admissions to the various museums and such in the area, and we were able to get half-priced admission for four people.  Memberships are also good for the money thing, but only if you live close enough to go regularly, which we don't.  Another note on money: the gift shop is expensive, though they don't force you to walk through in order to leave, which is helpful.

A starfish in the Touch Tank... poor thing.

Jacob, 3, endorsed the area that involves balls and gravity and basic laws of physics.  Emily, 7, was a big fan of the fire truck, and of the waterfall and dams with the ability to create apocalyptic eddies and waves which could swamp and scuttle a toy boat without warning. 

We'd go again, happily enough, but only if we were planning to meet someone in the area.  The Children's Museum of Portsmouth in New Hampshire is much nearer to us - and moving even closer sometime in the future, and is comparably fun and entertaining without as many Are we there yet?'s.

Chuck E. Cheese, Newington, NH
We've been known, at times, to refer to this as the Evil Mouse Place, and normally I leave with a headache and a general sense of overstimulation.  It's gotten much better as my kids grow, because now I can institute the Table Rule: I find a table and make them sit for a few minutes to memorize where it is.  Then I keep the cup of tokens with me and send them off with one or two tokens at a time.  They come back at regular intervals to get more tokens, which lets me keep track of them without stepping on (as many) strangers' children in the process.

It's still overstimulating, but it's kept cleaner than one might expect a place that serves that much greasy pizza and cotton candy, and the kids salivate whenever we drive past on the highway, so it meets some deep, sensory need for them.  I have to admit, greasy pizza aside, that they do have a good salad bar.

It can get expensive, because they charge, like, a billion dollars per pizza, but there are regular coupons in the newspaper and you can get them online, as well, so that helps.  And sometimes we get a lot of tokens, other times just a handful, because there are token-free activities there.  Or we can just go home sooner, which does have its own charms.

Kids Playground, Woburn, MA
Another family favorite, though it does require an hour drive in good weather, and two-plus this past Sunday.  I would have been happy to turn around and avoid the snow, but the kids knew where we were heading and were threatening an uprising, and I couldn't reach my friend, whom we were planning to meet there with her kids, so we soldiered through.  There's a good range of age-appropriate activities here, which gives it a huge advantage over Chuck E. Cheese.

It's got a reasonable fee structure, with kids costing more than adults to get in, and they have a free membership thing, where you get a card for each child and they swipe it through the computer when you enter.  They have a rubric, such that every so-many visits equals a discount at the food counter, and every other-many visits equals a free admission.  I can't keep track of the math, but it seems like we that fre admission a lot.  I love the word free.  The food is a bit less horrifying than that which they sell at Chuck E. Cheese, as well, such that the three of us were able to eat and get snacks for the ride home, for less than the $12 I had in my wallet.

Walmart and McDonalds, ubiquitous
No, really.  This was my father's idea; he called up on Saturday morning saying, "I haven't seen the kids in a while.  Can I take them out to dinner tomorrow night?"  Awesome.  And he's well-enough-versed in the ways of small children to know that it doesn't have to involve a lot of driving and kid-specific activities and money to entertain them.  They went to Walmart first, wandered and browsed a bit, and he let each kid pick out an under-$10 toy, and then to the McDonalds with a Play Place, to run and climb until the restaurant (no, really, that's what they call it) closed.  It's not a high-nutrition kind of experience, physically or mentally, but they all had a great time and I didn't have to go.

Seems like just about enough, don't you think?  I sure thought so.

Seven things I learned at Sundance and one thing I left

cross posted from Marketing Roadmaps

You'll have to go to film sites like Movie City News and Cinematical for reviews of the films, and Entertainment Weekly or E!Online for the star sightings and gossip. I was only in Park City for a few days, and mostly involved in work for my client's party. Saw only one film, CSNY Déjà Vu, and only a handful of celebrities. But I did learn a few things that I thought you'd appreciate, which is why I am cross-posting this from Marketing Roadmaps.

1. Do not park in front of 7-11, buy a few things and then go have lunch. Even though it's not marked a Tow Zone, you are very likely to get towed. The person driving our car (not me) was understandably upset, but it could happen to anyone. And probably did. Apparently towing is big business in Park City during Sundance due to the extreme lack of parking.

2. Sundance Film Festival merchandise goes on sale the last full day of the Festival. I could have saved $10 on the ball caps I bought the day before.

3. Films start on time. Events at Harry O's generally do not. From my experience, you can add an hour to the stated time that doors will open. So, for example if you are planning to eat at the ChefDance dinner, which "starts" at 8pm, and get hungry around 5pm, you can safely have a good-sized snack because you won't see the first course until 9ish and the entree at 10, 10:15 pm. 

4. UGGS are lovely but if you are limited on suitcase space, pack your waterproof boots instead. Luckily, I knew that one going in and had mine.

5. The walk from the Eccles Theatre to downtown is about 2.5 miles on a lovely walking trail. If it is warm enough (30 degrees was fine), it's worth it for the lovely views of the mountains. You'll also see a local landmark, a tree chock full of shoes, that's been there for at least 20 years according to a resident I met on the path.

6. In addition to being extraordinarily talented, the folks in the Kenny Wayne Shepherd Band are absolutely delightful and down-to-earth. If you like the blues, I highly recommend Shepherd's recent documentary and album, 10 Days Out: Blues From The Backroads. It was nominated for two Grammys and when you watch/listen, you'll know why.

7. CSNY Déjà Vu is a superb film. If you like the band, even just a little bit, and do not like our current president, you'll probably enjoy the movie. If you think Bush has done a great job in Iraq, on the other hand, you probably won't, even if you normally like the band. I loved the film. Draw your own conclusions.

Oh, and the thing I left? My voice. I came home with a cold that nearly qualifies as laryngitis.

Tags: Sundance, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, CSNY Deja Vu

All Snuggled Up

I'm propped up by 4 pillows, snuggled under my comforter as I type this.  Outside, the wind is blustery and loud, and there are low bass notes in all the noise, slow groans as the huge oaks in back of our house bend in the storm.  Storms used to make me anxious, but not tonight.

Instead, I realized that we've hit a family milestone this winter.  I used to get pretty wigged out in the face of a big storm, but most of that stress was related to the kids.  Would they be warm enough?  Would they sleep well, or keep waking me up over and over when the wind blew too loudly?  If the power went out, did I have enough batteries for the flashlight?  Food?  Should I bring up the roll-away beds from the basement just in case the power went out and our only heat source became the gas fireplace in the living room? 

Obviously, those don't sound like atypical New England storm thoughts, but behind them was always the knowledge that my kids don't respond well to changes in their routines.  Especially my son, who has some developmental issues, and who could become inconsolable when faced with a deviation from whatever he was expecting.  I used to have to discuss (in excruciating detail) what might happen to prepare them for the unexpected in normal daily situations, so a power outage was always something to dread.

When we had that last  Nor' Easter last November, however, I realized something had changed.  My kids just kind of rolled with it instead of freaking out!  It helped that we had Grandma and Grandpa visiting for the weekend with their adorable little toy fox terrier, but the kids really did great.  That experience, in turn, made today a much easier storm day than I've had for years. 

So here I am, tucked up in bed blogging instead of rocking a hysterical child or two.  This is definitely one of those "If I only knew then what I know now" moments for me.  I wish I could have shared with my younger self how much easier it was going to get when the kids got a little older, but instead I'll share it with any of you readers out there at the end of your ropes.  Tomorrow, if you are stuck at home with a young child and about ready to lock yourself in the bathroom and cry?  It WILL get easier...  I promise.

I think a mistake was made

Earlier this week it was deemed "The Most Depressing Day of the Year" but I was feeling pretty damn good on that day. Things in my life were moving forward on a decent trajectory, I was feeling better after 6 weeks of bronchitis, thrush, and a sinus infection. My kids weren't in jail, my cat didn't pee on my bed. Life was damn good. In fact, I was in the car with a friend and I remarked about how it was the most depressing day of the year and I was doing pretty damn good, etc.

WHEN WILL I LEARN?

My bronchitis came back even worse and I'm now coughing up pink foam from all the broken capillaries from such vicious coughing. My neck and shoulders are so stiff from the coughing that I can barely look around. My daughter freaked out and had a little episode of 2 year old tantrum in a 15 year old body. Nice! And the weather turned cold and nasty.

So I am changing the date of the Most Depressing Date. It is TODAY. January 26, 2008.

And if you're feeling all chipper and say to yourself, phew I'm doing great this year...just don't. Learn from me. Please.

1%.

One percent of the population of the US does not watch any TV. I don't know if there are grades of abstinence. Whether you are included in this exclusive one percent if say, like me, we have a big ass, movie house of a set, but no cable. No connection. Really, we don't watch tv.

This is not because I am some holier than thou bitch. It is completely selfish. TV annoys me. I felt a thankful kinship with the Globe writer who outed herself as another member of the 1% in the Sunday Globe Magazine a couple weeks ago. I'm not alone!

 

It's not just because there is nothing on (truly, the only show on now I would watch is Wired) but the commercials. The constant break of concentration. If I was lucky enough to have a show I really enjoyed, why would I want to watch it, only to be yanked out of my enjoyment by ten minutes of commercials every fifteen minutes? Ah, you may say. TiVo or some such recording program can bypass all those things. But I am too lazy. If I can rent the DVD from Netflix, I sure as hell don't need to fork out the cash or the time to set up a program to winnow through the shit and filter out the gold.

 

I'm not sure how the annoyance factor breaks down. It could be a ratio of 80% annoyance at commercials to 20% annoyance at time spent clicking through bullshit. Or vice versa.

 

It wasn't always this way. When I was a kid, I was a TV junkie. Here is just a little of what I remember zoning out to, in no particular order: Grizzly Adams; Good Times; The Jeffersons; Fat Albert; Little House on the Prairie; Julia Child; Sesame Street; The Electric Company; Mr Rogers; The Love Boat (and Fantasy Island, of course); The Gong Show (remember Chuck Barris? That HAIR?), The Price is Right; every holiday special I could stay up for; Barnie Miller; Taxi; Cheers; MASH (oh, how I loved MASH); Silver Spoons; Punky Brewster; All in the Family; Get Smart; That Girl; Mary Tyler Moore; The Facts of Life; Family Ties; MacGyver; Murder She Wrote; Magnum PI; Charlie's Angels; Marcus Welby M.D.; Leave It to Beaver; the A Team; Hollywood Squares; The Bionic Man; The Bionic Woman; Wonder Woman; Batman; Hawaii Five-O; Quantum Leap; Fame; Old classic movies; every musical ever made; after school specials; all those “back to nature” movies with the horrible child non-actors one suspected of being “hired” by the producer or director but who were really sons or daughters who wanted to play on the big screen...

 

I could go on, but by now, you get the idea. I was a teen couch spud.

 

I'm not sure when it all changed for me. It may have started the year I graduated from high school, and for all intents and purposes, stopped watching. I traveled, I went to college, I didn't have time for it. So by the time I was working nine to five, and had the time again, I watched. But now, there were channels like the cartoon network, and Turner, and HBO. Suddenly I didn't have to deal with commercials. I also realized that there was not as many things I was interested in watching. Beakman, Dexter's Lab, Space Ghost Coast to Coast were regular fare. But these were all short-lived indulgences. We watched Homicide and taped almost every episode. Never watched them a second time, though. What exactly were we taping them for? The VHS tapes are slowly disintegrating in boxes in the basement. We never really talked about what we watched with our friends either. Our tastes were too esoteric.

 

Of course there were reruns. But there were only so many times I could swallow another episode of Andy Griffith or the inevitable Brady Bunch without my feeling guilty afterwards for such a pathetic waste of time. I'd been there, done that. Then I began to be annoyed with the “personalities”. The talk show hosts, the newscasters. Then the stupidity of new sitcoms. The same old things, over. And over. And over.

 

Then, med school started, and financially, we had to make some choices. DSL or cable. It wasn't a difficult choice. We walked away from the cable easily enough. I was done. The addiction was routed, and I kissed the tube goodbye. Netflix now sends us our Wired episodes, which we barely find time to watch, let alone the other 300+ movies and animes in our Q. It is more than enough.

 

As for the Impling, I doubt she would have the interest to sit and watch even if we were inclined to let her watch, which we aren't. There are numerous reasons for this. First, I've no interest in mucking through what looks at a glance to be horribly insipid and stupid and badly animated children's shows to find one that's actually worth watching. I don't want to train her in how to watch. I don't want to deal with a whiny toddler demanding Elmo's or Disney Princesses or neon breakfast cereals. I do want to give the National Association of Pediatritians the benefit of the doubt as they reiterate over and over that TV for children is not so good. They recommend limiting TV viewing to 2 hours a day (for the over 2 set...no TV at ALL for the wee ones). This boggles my mind. Two HOURS? There is the transit time to the Science Museum for us, or a good tramp to a playground, or a new train track creation. Or reading. Or drawing. Or dancing.

So no TV. No DVD's. And sometimes, it's hard. Like when I have a bad cold and there's nothing I'd love more than curling up on the sofa and showing the Impling an old Gene Kelly musical. But I know, as soon as I start, there will be no going back. So I wait, visions of tap shoes dancing in my head, until the Impling and I are ready.

     "Let's do some tracks now Mommy!"

Crossposted from Rock the Cradle