Random thoughts

... as I sit in court waiting for a trial I'm covering to restart:

- Laptops and wireless Internet access are great things. (Can I buy a laptop Judybat, pleeeeeease??)
- My daughter and son's heads are the same size, even though she is 7 months old and he is 4. Do our heads stop growing that early?
- Spinach puree leads to very odd and messy poop in a baby.
- Girl parts are harder to clean than boy parts. (See note about spinach puree poop.)
- Joe Torre is so going to get fired, even though Brian Cashman is really the one who deserves to go.
- Making lists like this is an easy fallback for lazy people who haven't gotten enough sleep recently.
- "Battlestar Galactica" is, like, the best show EVER.
- There is a new version of "Scooby Doo" out, and it's a lot smarter and (purposely) funnier than the original. Plus, the animation is much better. I credit computers.
- I want an iPhone, but not until they're cheaper and you can get one on something other than an AT&T network.
- My spouse is crazy: Two weeks ago, Comcast offered to give us HBO, Starz and a DVR along with internet phone service for just $20 a month more than we're currently paying for digital cable and high-speed internet access.
- People keeping walking up to TheGirl and saying, "Hi, Blondie!" She is blonde, whether we like it or not.
- Courtroom chairs are inherently uncomfortable.

Comments? Concerns? Random thoughts of your own?

We're like a sitcom family ... from the 1950s

I kicked Judybat out of bed this evening. No, we didn't have a fight. Or at least, not one that's any more serious than the usual "Why did you leave your dirty socks on the kitchen table?" and "Um, I don't know," squabble.

I just decided that one of us needs to sleep through the night, and it makes more sense for the person who's not attached to TheGirl at the teat to do the snoring. It's worked, except for a brief instance last night when TheBoy's screaming woke Judybat. (She was upstairs, and I was just one room away from him. So apparently I'm only trained to hear TheGirl's peeping.)

The experience has revealed an unsettling truth: We both sleep better when we're flying solo in the sack. We're like some 1950s sitcom family, except for the whole girl-girl thing and the lack of neatly pressed pajamas.

I'm not sure how much longer this will last, however. I miss my drooling, snoring, bed-hogging other half.

Don't bother reading this

Once again, it's been awhile since I've posted anything, but lately I feel I've got nothing to say that's worth my time to write or, more importantly, your time to read. Sure I've had a couple of thoughts. Like the other day I was dressing TheGirl in one of TheBoy's old green and blue onesies, and I thought, Wow, she looks like a little boy. Then I put a pink sleeper on over the onesie and thought, Oh, now she's a girl again. I find it fascinating and maybe a little bit disturbing that perception can be so easily manipulated with color, especially given the fact that the whole pink and blue thing is a fickle social construct. Once upon a time you'd dress your boy in pink and save the blues and greens for girls, because pink and red - fiery energetic colors - were considered masculine, while blue and green - cool and calm colors, were considered feminine.

But, whatever. I don't really feel like going on and on about it.

And then just yesterday, after looking with great satisfaction out the bedroom window into our neatly trimmed back yard, I realized that you can buy happiness, because the day before had I looked out the same window and felt like weeping at the sight of our neglected garden. But that was before I paid the nice Asian man to come out with his truck, his hedge clippers and a couple of Mexicans to wack away at the overgrown mess, thereby lifting a weight from my psyche that had been growing more wearying with each passing weekend that I didn't get around to the yard work. I felt the same satisfactory sigh of relief I feel when I come home from work on Fridays to a clean house - a sweet-smelling house swept and scrubbed, not by me, but by the nice Italian lady I pay every week to do it. I don't mind house cleaning, and I like yard work, but it turns out I like paying someone to do it for me even more.

So, where am I going with this? Nowhere really. Today I started a conversation at work and got so bored with what I was saying I just had to stop talking and stare into space. I don't think anybody noticed. I'm going to try it again right now.

Anybody have some earplugs?

As I type this, there are two children screaming in the next room. Both TheBoy and TheGirl are furious that it's bedtime and, more generally, that we're mean, that life is unfair and that we're trying our best to regain control of the house. Because this weekend, we definitely lost it.

TheBoy is the bigger problem. Now solidly 4 years old, he's weaning himself from naptime. The result: By 5 p.m., he's exhausted. And an exhausted Boy is an unhappy Boy.

We are in Jekyl and Hyde mode. When he's happy, he's the happiest kid in town -- and a delight to be around. He's had some conversational leap in recent weeks, and so talking to him now is a constant wonder of new words, complete and complex sentences and funny, wise observations about the world. When he's tired, however, all hell breaks loose. It's like the terrible twos all over again, only worse, because he's now too big for us to simply pick up and move where we want him to go. Time out no longer frightens him, and as we've seen, he's not really scared of losing his stuff. In fact, he's happy to help move it.

TheGirl is easier, a remarkable switch from those early days. She's sitting up like a champ now and playing with toys, which means we can plop her down in the floor or her high chair or on the bed and she'll happily hang out picking up and dropping her hippo rattle or chirping monkey for a good 20 minutes -- even more if she can manage to get her pacifier in her mouth. If only she would sleep through the night ... but I've decided to stop worrying about that. We're clearly overthinking on that front.

It's been 10 minutes since I started this post. TheGirl seems to have gone to sleep. Or maybe I just can't hear her over the sound of TheBoy screaming, "Iiiiiiiima! Moooommmy!"

I'm sure I'll miss all this in, say, 15 years or so.

TheGirl in summer

I have no response to that last post, so here is a picture of the girl:

Isn't that just like a man?

So how do I respond to this one?

TheBoy was having a full-fledged freak of a tantrum as we put on pajamas last night, complete with screaming, hitting, kicking, etc., when he came out with this one:

"I'm going to pee on you!"

I was struggling to keep from laughing when I noticed the first tiny droplet appear on the tip of his little man part. I yelled before he could get a full stream going, but still ... What the heck?

Apparently we're at a stage where bodily fluids are seen as a weapon. When it was clear he was going to be in serious, serious trouble if any more urine appeared, he stuck his hand in his mouth, licked it, and then proceeded to rub his saliva on me.

Stuff I miss

In no particular order:

- Going to the movies. (Oh Spiderman, how I've abandoned you!)

- Eating a quiet meal in a nice restaurant. (As opposed to one in which TheBoy alternates between "accidentally" dropping his glass, causing it to shatter at his feet, and whining that the bucket o' toys the proprieter brought out in hopes of keeping him quiet is not large enough.)

- My boobies. (I suspect Judybat misses them, too.)

- Playing music in the house without having to worry about what kind of naughty language might lie hidden in the lyrics. (In other words, our "Avenue Q" soundtrack.)

- Checking out Homestar Runner whenever I want.

- Turning on the TV whenever I want.

- Sleep. Glorious, wonderful sleep.

- The days when the Yankees didn't stink. (In other words, Paul O'Neil.)

- The days when I could walk into TheBoy's room without worrying that he might glare at me, make a little gang symbol and yell, "Get out!"

- Caffeine. (Although the venti decaf no fat hazelnut latte I had this morning did hit the spot.)

- Hard liquor.

- Tylenol PM.

- Did I mention sleep?



Things that make it worthwhile, sometimes:

- Waking up to a very familiar set of blue eyes, and tiny little fingers pawing at my face. Good morning, TheGirl!

- Having an actual, honest-to-goodness conversation with TheBoy. Even if it's only one in which we try to decide which one of Spiderman's enemies is the baddest of the bad. (The consensus: The Sandman beats Doc Ock. Doc Ock beats The Vulture. And nobody messes with Doctor Doom!)