How Much Do We Love Our Cubbies Right Now?

I knew Nutmeg listened along when the radio was on, but until this week I had no idea how very closely she listens. I guess I should have gotten a clue from the fact that a couple of her favorite songs are now, "The voice of Chi-caw-gooooo, Double-you GEE Ennnn," and "1877CARSFORKIDS..."

But now that those Chicago Cubs are ON FIRE it seems that we've both pricked up our ears. One late afternoon last week, maybe the last time the Cubbies lost, I expressed misgivings about their new pitcher, Gallagher.

"Yeah, I like Dempster better," Nutmeg said without misisng a beat.

Now, Dempster is another pitcher. In fact, both Gallagher and Dempster are STARTING pitchers. It blew my mind that either by chance or eerie understanding, Nutmeg knew that Dempster and Gallagher were comparable. Then she brought it on home.

"But I really like the pitcher who's name starts with Z."

Don't we all?!

Then today, when the news was on, there was a report about the crane that fell in NYC killing two workers.

"One of the workers that got killed survived because he ducked out for an egg sandwich," Nutmeg informed everyone in the car.

OK, looking beyond her obvious ignorance of the definition of "survived," take note of this: The newscaster did not say, just then, the part about the egg sandwich. That was in YESTERDAY's report about the same incident.

Obviously, the days are over when Epu and I could listen to Loveline on late-night drives whether she was awake back there or not. Then again, surely Loveline isn't on the air anymore? Anyone know?

I Love It That to Her, Two Adults in the Front Seats of the Car MUST Be in Love

Nutmeg: "Hmm, two men driving in a car together. How could that be?"
Nutmeg: "Oh, it must be one of those families Daddy told me about."
Me: "What families?"
Nutmeg: "Where one man and another man decide to have a family together."
Me. "Oh."

This is so unexpected and cute that I hate to burst her bubble. But, I say it anyway.

Me: "Or, you know, it might just be one man giving his friend a ride to Dunkin Donuts."

What's New With These Kids? Everything

Nutmeg and Pebbles keep amazing me with their latest developments and I keep putting off reporting them here due to exciting Dooce-related developments and breaking gardening news.

So here's a progress report:

Pebbles's latest phrase is, "thank you." She loves to hand items to people and receive items from people, each time chirping, "Denkyou."

Although Pebbles doesn't talk much (Nutmeg at this age said 100 words/phrases), we are realizing that she understands much of what is said. I was reading a book to her the other night and she successfully pointed out a pen, an airplane, a flower and a crib. She will follow directions such as, "Put your pants in the laundry basket," and "Go give this to Nutmeg." If I tell Nutmeg to put on her shoes, Pebbles will find the nearest shoe and say, "Choo."

Pebbles likes to chew on a toothbrush, so we got her her own at CVS. I am hoping she is too young to be scarred by the torso of Barbie that is appended to the toothbrush's end. Today while I was brushing, Pebbles frantically pointed at the toothbrush container in the bathroom, saying, "Too, too, too." Since I am not as smart as a 15-month-old, it took me awhile to figure out that she wanted to "brush her teeth" too. She has three of them.

Nutmeg:

Nutmeg can read but she won't admit it. Well, she at least can guess a great many words from looking at the first letter or so and the context. She'll tell me that the shopping cart she's sitting in says, "Menards," and that Pebbles' cup says "Playskool," and sometimes when we're reading a picture book she'll consent to reading every other page. Usually she figures out the first word or so of the sentence and then recites the rest from memory.

For some reason she likes to remind us that she CAN'T read books. For example, we put a reading lamp next to her bed and told her she could read on her own after bedtime, and she was all like, "I can LOOK at books, I can't read them!" So we're not pushing it. I think she has some performance anxiety, like she's afraid of getting the words wrong. Which led me to ask Epu, aka Mr. Learning, to back off a bit. We also assured her that even when she can read well on her own, we will still read to her, because we love reading to her. She liked the sound of that.

She is also into math. I imagine again that there is some Epu influence at work here, but she likes to inform me while we're driving that, "4 and 2 are 6!" The other day she told me that 6+3 was 9 AND 4+5 was nine. Later she asked me a multiplication problem (what is 3 times 4?) and when I went to try to demonstrate to her, she already had 12 craisins lined up in groups of four. So we just counted them out and there she had the answer.

But the best thing about Nutmeg lately is her increased maturity level. She reliably gets herself dressed now, and will even concentrate on brushing her own hair nicely. She can occasionally be counted on to put things away when I ask her. Sometimes the same request leads to an outburst such as, "You're a mean lady!" and "You're not really a good mommy at all!" But that's a gamble I gladly take, over and over, for the chance to win big by seeing an entire drawer's worth of her clothes return from my bedroom floor to their proper place.

Sometimes it happens! Now we're going to work on improving that record to "often" or even "usually."

Heather in Real Life

I spoke to Heather Armstrong today, for a freelance article I'm working on. Just like the last time I interviewed her, I was surprised by how nice and polite she is.

I guess I didn't expect her to mock me for writing a blog about using coupons, or be like, "You know, you're family is not as funny, funny as you think." But my heart was pounding a bit calling her up. I always get a little nervous making phone calls, one of the reasons I was not the world's best newspaper reporter, but I was more nervous than usual today.

I think it's the "popular crowd" factor. Dooce is the most popular, successful personal blog on the Internet. Heather hangs out with other women who are also the funniest, most successful bloggers. They visit each other, go to conferences together, buy vibrators together, even write books together. They're worse than the popular crowd in high school because, unlike those cheerleader yearbook-publishers who you knew would crash and burn or stay in our dead old town forever after high school, these are grown up women who are actually awesome people.

Facing up to this kind of in-crowdness brings out my inner junior high outsider. (In/out/in/out, I know, but stay with me here, ok!) Calling up Heather Armstrong was like dialing the number of the most popular girl in school and casually asking, "Do you know what pages we were supposed to read for biology tomorrow?"

If you were me, making that call, you'd get mocked mercilessly for the rest of the school year. I mean, you'd get mocked even more.

So it's a pleasant surprise to remember that we are all grown up now, that I am actually "the media" and that most people with a business to promote have to be nice to me when I call on behalf of a magazine (and this is a really cool magazine I'll be writing for, btw!) And that, you know, the people that you respect and envy as an adult are not those mean girls from jr. high, and even if they were, those mean girls grew up and got out of the strictures of their own social order, and even some of them are pretty nice nowadays.

So. The other weird thing: When bloggers interact in RL. Cause then, you're like, ooh, did this person blog about their Very Important Encounter with me? I remember checking the blogs of every blogger I wrote about at The Chronicle and being disappointed that none of them wrote, Dear Diary, a supercool reporter called me today and I think she asked really insightful questions, or, here's an article about me, it's so well written. And of course I was relieved to see nothing at all rather than, "I did an interview with a complete moron today who just does not GET IT and besides get a look at her dorky glasses in her picture on the staff Web site."

And then you're like, I'm going to blog all about my 8-second phone call with a Famous Blogger. Will she read it? Will she like it? Will she decide not to do scheduled interview after all now that she has read this?

And suddenly, your life is a Gouldian nightmare. And really, this whole post is just a long lead-in to that link there. I stayed up late reading that whole NYT Magazine article, and realized at the end that I had gotten sucked into a juvenile boy/girl spat, thinking I was reading Something Important about the Internet. Well, ok, it was both, but that girl is disturbing. Anyone who walks the halls of junior high (there it is again) passing out comic books about herself, and (according to her ex) emails long-ago schoolmates to point them to her racy personal blog has some unusual issues that go beyond the average schmuck's urge to blog.

Edited to say: See, I AM mentioned in her blog today. I'm part of that "slew of phone calls, interruptions ..." I certainly hope I cannot take the blame for the "mild panic attack" as I was very calm and non-agitating in our brief phone call, despite the fact that I answered her return call in the bathroom area of the gym locker room, brazenly flouting the "no cell phones" rule and at point raising my voice of the sound of flushing.

Our Suburban Bliss

This weekend felt like the first weekend of summer, for sure. We went to the season opener of our local farmer's market, two weeks early this year. There wasn't much produce but the donuts were on, and that's what it's all about. Also the dude who shows up to play drums and puts out a bunch of percussion instruments for the kids. We are going to try to walk down to the farmer's market as many weekends as we can this year.

Nutmeg and I put some seeds in the ground -- beets and carrots. We were going to plant more basil, because our little basil sprouts died of neglect (and probably cold) after we put them in the ground about a month ago. But I couldn't find the basil seeds. Master garden planners, we.

I put cocoa-bean-shell mulch around the bushes in the front yard. Being a new homeowner, mulch held many mysteries for me. I didn't know what it was really for, how deep to lay it down, whether I should water before or after laying it down. I got various answers: The lady at the garden center said it's cosmetic, so people don't see the dirt. My dad said it would discourage weeds and hold moisture into the soil. Pebbles felt it was an excellent medium for picking up with a sand shovel and scattering onto the lawn.

Speaking of lawns, I felt much better about mine when I read this Tribune article about how a great, low-maintenance yard is made of grass, clover and dandelions. I'm totally dragging my lawn-fanatic dad to the exhibit at the Notebaert of which the article speaks, as soon as we get our Boston Children's Museum passes which will allow us to go to that museum for free.

We had some out-of-town visitors pop in for a scant hour or so, and I took the girls downtown to the Children's Museum Sunday morning with one of their little friends, but otherwise our holiday weekend was mosty yard work (me) and home repairs (Epu, spackling like a, um, spackleemonster in the spare bedroom). Oh, and reading books in the backyard swing with Nutmeg, blowing bubbles, chatting with the neighbors.

As it all wrapped up last night, after the kids were in bed, Epu and I played Scrabble on the deck, listening to neighbors on all sides make merry at their holiday barbecues. Nice. After we came in, the wind picked up and the trees all around our house whispered and sighed. I love having the windows open, even if I have to take three kinds of allergy medicine to make it possible.

Hey Kori, Someone Stole Your Idea

Cubes and Crayons, an office space for freelance workers -- WITH FLEXIBLE CHILDCARE.

Tiny Dancer

With some help from Cake and Nutmeg's good example, Pebbles has learned to spin in circles.

Nutmeg Is Going for the MRS

Today was Nutmeg's preschool "graduation." Mind you, she still has another year of preschool to go. But a graduation none the less.

Before the event, Nutmeg informed me once you graduate, you can get married. She also informed me that I would cry at her graduation. Knowing me, that was a good prediction, and it came true, even though I managed to hold it to just a few tears, only while she and her classmates were receiving their "diplomas." Why cry? I was imagining these same kids stepping up for their high school diplomas, and wondering who would be friends, who would now disdain and abuse one another due to clique warfare, who would be drugged up or knocked up or dropped out and who would be valedictorian.

What I could not have predicted is that she would cry. She cried. Loudly and with lots of genuine tears. And she got her favorite teacher going -- it was her goodbye to this teacher that started the waterworks. And then the other moms started in. Truly, as I dragged Nutmeg out of the classroom, mine were among the only dry eyes in the place.

And good thing, because I needed to save my tears for this:



This is a page from the book Nutmeg made about her year in preschool. Her final project, if you will. The caption: "When I grow up, I want to be a mommy." (No matter what I try, this picture does not want to show up aligned correctly. Sorry!)

Oh, that figure in white off to the side? That's a doctor. I asked her, "So, this is a picture of you taking your children to the doctor."

She sighed. "NO. That's a picture of the other thing I want to be when I grow up. A mommy, and a doctor."

Let's hope Harvard Med takes CVS Extra Bucks.

Swimming and Ice Cream

I swam one mile today. I've been working up to it for awhile, adding two laps each time I hit the pool. Today I was supposed to swim 32 laps, I think, but there was no one else swimming laps. Usually the lap lane gets crowded toward the end of my Wednesday morning swim and I can't wait to get out of there after hitting my weekly goal. But this week, I figured, what the hell, and just kept swimming. 36 laps = 1 mile. Boo-yah!

Now for something completely different: On the rare occasions that Pebbles eats something she likes (i.e., ice cream), she finds it appropriate to say "Mmm." On every single bite. Here is Pebbles eating ice cream: "Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm. Mm...."

It's gonna be a fun summer. Boo-yah!

The Longest Winter Ever

We just enjoyed a hearty soup for dinner and I'm wearing my wool hat in the house. Which is totally normal because we've been doing this kind of thing since before Halloween, 2007.

Except now 2008 is nearly half over. It came as quite a shock to me today when I found out that Nutmeg's last swim lesson of the spring session is over, and that summer swim lessons at the outdoor pool start three weeks from today. Swimming outdoors? But I'm still wearing my coat!

So of course I hadn't actually signed Nutmeg up for swim lessons yet. I think I was more on the ball about this last year when we hadn't even moved to Oak Park yet. I do have our summer swim passes, which appropriately are called Polar Bear Passes since I bought them early at a discount.

Also, Nutmeg's school ends this week. That's right, summer vacation, chez Nutmeg, starts at the end of this week. We're planning on celebrating with an outing to the Brookfield Zoo. To see our cousins, the polar bears.

We Dyed Our Hair

I don't know, call it a midlife crisis, but we both aspire to live past the age of 68.

Call it, we moved to the suburbs, have two kids, and are struggling to still feel young and hip.

Call it this: I got carded in the grocery store yesterday for the first time in ages. Cause, you know, the woman with the coupon pushing the cart with the big plastic truck on the front? Probably underaged.

Sadly, I actually think my new hair makes me look even older because it is so dark and it highlights my natural pallor and red blemishes. But hey, it's fun.

(scroll down for the pics)

((if you can bear to look))

Get Used to It, Baby

Nutmeg: I was having a problem, in my room.
Me: Yes?
Nutmeg: My problem is, I need to be richer than I am.
Me: Me too!
Nutmeg: Yes. We both have the same problem.
(thoughtful pause)

Nutmeg: So, I'm still having the problem.

I Have No Problems

I have all kinds of cute things to report about Nutmeg, like how she stayed in her own bed ALL NIGHT last night and credits the help of her (now!) 3 bedmates, Genevieve the Friendly Ghost, Alphabadouble-u the Cat, and Pumpkin the Cornsnake. How Nutmeg now fearlessly jumps into the pool at swimming lessons and bobs right back up again, and, oh yes, Pebbles' ascent to the ponderous weight of 17.5 pounds.

But it's hard to revel in my own good fortune with what is going on in Burma and China right now.

I wanted to share this cute and funny Tribune article about mothers admitting their worst moments. But then I thought this was more important: NPR's wrenching eyewitness account of parents waiting for word of their children outside the rubble of a school in Sichuan. If you think you can't relate to poor people on the other side of the world, just think of this. You -- many of you -- are parents. They are parents. Ever pick your kids up from school? That's what they are trying to do, too. Except the school is now a pile of concrete and the kids are unlikely to get out alive, in part because, according to some kids who did escape, the teachers told them, "Don't move, don't move."

I also thought of complaining about how the people in my local Freecycle group are such curmudgeons that I lost the chance at a free radio for listening to Cub games outside because my kids were too tired of being in the car for me to pick it up from the giver's porch on time. Because apparently that radio sitting on his screen porch would have just exploded or rotted away if it sat there for one more day. And I am really annoyed at how my computer keeps crashing this morning, how I just missed the chance to be the FIRST commenter on Dooce.com because (I think) her site crashed just as I tried it.

Then I remembered, oh yeah, I have no problems.

It's not much, but all my blogging revenue this month will go to Myanmar and China relief efforts along with our family's personal contribution. Here are the places I'm considering for donations:

At the Mercy Corps Web site, you can designate a gift to either the China earthquake or the Myanmar cyclone, or "wherever most needed," which is what I would do.

CARE is one organization that was already in Burma before this disaster, and seems well positioned to help.

And of course there's always UNICEF.

These are times when I really can't explain how we got to be so lucky, how I spend my days with two healthy children whose safety is relatively assured if I can just be bothered to keep an eye on them. Consider a gift to those who didn't win the global jackpot as a little payment to ward off the evil eye. That's what I do.

And no, I can't really afford it either. But something tells me we'll get by even if our monthly budget takes a small hit from sending a few bucks to the other side of the world this week.

Thanks to the Person Who Signed Up for Revolution Money Exchange

I just got a $10 credit on Revolution Money Exchange! So one of you must have signed up using my link. Thank you! And enjoy your $25!

There are only 4 days left to get a free $25 for signing up. The Web site says it takes 2 minutes to register but I'd say it took me 90 seconds. And once you have an account, you can refer your spouse and make another $35 -- $10 for the referral and $25 for your spouse's new account.

With his/her consent, of course.

Happy Mother's Day!

A New Ghost in the Family

So, it's time. Time for the imaginary friend to make her debut in Nutmeg's life.

This friend is named Genevieve. Trust Nutmeg to invent a friend with a long and difficult-to-spell name. Genevieve is a friendly ghost who accompanied Nutmeg to school yesterday, shared a Tootsie Pop with her. Genevieve encouraged Nutemg and Pebbles to jump on Nutmeg's bed, but promises not to cause such trouble again because she is very sorry that one little monkey literally fell off and hit her head.

According to this study written up in Wondertime, imaginary friends are quite common, with 65% of kids having one between the ages of 2 and 7. The study notes that although Dr. Spock advised parents of kids very attached to their imaginary friends to engage a psychiatrist, for most kids this is a positive thing and doesn't indicate anything lacking in their "real" lives.

Then again, there is something ooky about hearing that your kid's new friend is a ghost. I told Epu about this cute new development, and he looked around the room nervously and said, "This is an old house." And Nutmeg does seem to be an eerily, well, sensitive child when it comes to knowing things that the rest of us don't know. Like when she told me the day before her little sister's birth, with resolute certainty, that the next day would be the day.

OK, well, I warned Genevieve yesterday not to cause any trouble around our house. Hopefully that will keep us covered, whether her nature is super imaginative or supernatural.

Another Momzilla Sighting

My gym is near a preschool, not the one that Nutmeg goes to. Today, as I left the building, I heard a mom talking to a kid about the worksheet she had done in preschool that morning.

"You're going to have to start taking your time. You know, in kindergarten, they will make you sit there until you get it right. None of this rushing through it so you can go play."

Hmm. If that's what they're going to do in kindergarten, how about your kid starts doing that, I dunno, IN KINDERGARTEN? Is 5 way too late to learn the joys of being a grind? Think of all the healthy play instincts that will go uncrushed between now and September if we don't do something about this right away!

Free $25 for You

A few weeks ago, I signed up for a new PayPal competitor, Revolution Money Exchange, in order to get $25 deposited into this new account for free. I got the credit right away, and I now have the option of having a check mailed to me or letting it stay in the account in case I want to buy something from anyone who also has one of these accounts.

The deadline for getting $25 free has been extended until May 15. If you, too, want a free $25, just click this button:



If you sign up through my blog, I will also get a $10 referral fee.

Revolution Money Exchange is actually a regular bank, so when you are signing up you are applying for a bank account. You do have to type in your social security number. I looked it up and it appears to be legit. Also, scads of people online have reported receiving their $25 checks no problem. Money Saving Mom even got $500 in referral fees, and she has already banked that check.

By the way, any money I make through this program goes into Pebbles' college fund to assuage mommy guilt over putting off opening said fund until after her 1st birthday.

What Do You Do All Day? Year FIVE

It suddenly hit me just now that I am now starting my fifth year as a mother. My fifth year outside full-time employment. May is also a significant month for us because last year, we were about to close on our house at this time, and the year before that, I quit my job, became a stay-at-home mother, and left San Franciso.

So yeah, I'm embarking on my third year as a stay-at-home mom. Crazy.

How better to celebrate all these milestones than to answer that question so many stay-at-home moms get asked: What do you do all day? (I did this last year, during the very first year, and well, it seems like I did it when Nutmeg was 2 but maybe I forgot.

But that's not now, that's then. Here we go:

6:08 Nutmeg, who sleeps in our bed the second half of every night, wakes up all bubbly. Since neither of us can see the clock without our glasses on, Epu asks Nutmeg to read out the numbers. When he finds out it's just after six, tries to convince her to go back to sleep. Then the baby starts crying. I inform him that day has begun and kick all their butts out of the bedroom.

7 Hear Pebbles crying downstairs, and saying, "Ma-mee,Ma-mee." She won't seem to stop. Zombie-walk downstairs, nurse Pebbles, and zombie walk back to bed, ignoring Epu's conversational gambits.

7:30 So much noise. Epu has brought both kids upstairs since he has to shower. Get up.

Drink a little coffee, read a little paper.

8 Epu departs. Help Nutmeg write her name on some thank-you cards for recent birthday gifts.

8:15 Take baby upstairs with me so I can shower. Play peek-a-boo with shower curtain.

8:40 Bolt down some free cereal. Get snack for preschool class together.

8:45 Get photo memory card ready to make prints if am able to stop at CVS on way back from preschool drop-off

8:50 Brush teeth along with Nutmeg. Notice that Pebbles has found herself crayons and paper and is happily scribbling away. Note with satisfaction that she seems to understand that crayons are for paper, not the floor.

8:59 Get all of us out the door and lug baby down to the corner to the school.

9:05 Hang out at the preschool for awhile since Pebbles is having so much fun playing with giant legos. Chat with moms and teachers.

9:15 Warn preschool teachers that I may not make it back to help with snack since Pebbles got up too early and likely won't make it past noon before starting her nap.

9:25 Home. Let Pebbles play in yard while I cut dead balloons from the plastic cottage.

9:30 Inside. Call pediatrician's office to ask for a records request form since we are changing doctors.

9:40 Work for a moment on one of my many blogs.

9:50 Turn on Oprah. Load dishwasher. Chat with Pebbles. Color with Pebbles.

10 Back outside, with an orange for Pebbles and a cup of coffee for myself. Weather gorgeous. Set Pebbles up at little picnic table. Try to get yard raked in preparation for seeding our patchy lawn.

10:15 Pebbles plays in sandbox for a long time while I rake and weed. Awesome.

10:30 Realize that I am raking GRASS, which I am allergic to, and have not taken ANY of my three allergy medications this morning. Sprint into house to administer drugs.

10:45 Attempt to use baby gate purchased at rummage sale to block off concrete outdoor basement stairs. Doesn't work.

10:50 Accept that only about 1/4 of the lawn will get raked today. Think about how I should really set up the sprinkler to water all the seeds we planted. Also think about sweeping and washing deck, then think about repairs or rebuilding needed by deck, and about how outdoor stair railing was never painted, and am overwhelmed by the number of jobs that the entire house needs.

11 Change poopy diaper. Get ready to head out the door.

11:02 Open one of the baby gates, only to have an entire chunk of woodwork where the gate was anchored fall off the wall, along with globs of plaster. Imagine a cloud of lead dust settling around the room. This does nothing for my generalized home-maintenance anxiety.

11:05 Head back over to preschool for snack time.

11:10 Pebbles loves to be at preschool! She gets to sit at the table with the big kids and color with markers, then eat snack. 4-year-old girls argue over who gets to sit next to her.

11:40 Pebbles joins right in at circle time and shouts out her own answers to the teacher's questions. Nutmeg stands up in front of the class, snackmeister for the very last time since school ends in 3 weeks.

12 Warn Nutmeg that she may NOT run off to the playground upon leaving school today because we have a tight schedule. Receive yet another birthday gift for Nutmeg from a classmate as we walk out.

12:05 Nutmeg and Pebbles pet the neighbor's cat, who has been waiting for them in front of our house.

12:10 Try to feed Nutmeg and Pebbles lunch on the deck, despite the fact that they just had fig newtons and Goldfish at school 1/2 an hour ago. Manage to get a few pieces of cheese into Pebbles. Nutmeg ignores food and opens, plays with new birthday gift.

12:30 Change another poopy diaper. Jeez, what's with these bowels today?

12:35 Nurse Pebbles to sleep while Nutmeg plays in back yard. While nursing, worry about money and plot the many, many things I'd like to get done this afternoon and in the evening after the kids are in bed. Change to sundress, shave legs. Get stressed by messiness upstairs: pile of clean laundry waiting to be folded, the rug that I put in the bedroom that needs to be removed because it stops the bedroom door from opening or closing.

12:45 Get gardening tools from the garage. Notice how messy garage is and how that bag of dirty diapers is still sitting on the hood of the car where I left it that morning. Contemplate how it seems like there is a new mess or task around every corner, about every minute of the day. Wonder how other parents and homeowners manage to get everything done.

Get Nutmeg's bike, and Nutmeg into front yard. Accidentally pinch Nutmeg's chin skin in helmet latch. Allow myself to be guilted into not making her wear helmet. Apply sunblock to both of us.

12:50 Inside to Google advice on moving bushes.

1 pm Begin trying to dig up one of the bushes in front of our house. The plan is to remove the current evergreen shrubs in order to plant two dwarf lilacs we bought yesterday.

1:05 Enjoy using brand new shovel. Give Nutmeg freshly dug-up worms.

1:15 Sweat. Get scratches and itchy redness all over arms and legs from bush's needles.

1:30 Realize that this job is going to be much, much tougher than I had hoped. Also, bush is probably not going to survive this as a number of roots have been severed.

1:45 Remember seeing on Craigslist some people advertising free bushes for anyone who can come dig them up. Wonder if anyone wants these scraggly looking things as much as I want them out.

2 Decide I am definitely going to try to get someone else to remove bush number two. That is, if I survive attempts to remove bush number 1.

2:10 Hope that the classes of junior high kids passing by each hour to use the nearby athletic fields cannot see my underwear when I tug at this stubborn bush.

2:15 Appreciate the fact that at least Nutmeg is entertaining herself nicely with her friends, the worms, and is only sporadically insisting on "helping."

2:25 Hope during one of her helping episodes that she doesn't get hurt when I use this big old shovel, which advertises right on itself that its blade is "sharp."

2:30 Neighbor comes outside and gives Nutmeg a birthday gift. Is also kind enough to help her get it out of the packaging, since I am elbows deep in the dirt in front of our house. Neighbor says my gardening "looks great." I have a pile of dirt spilling out of the flower bed, a shrub that is beginning to loosen up but for one big, woody root, and a few potted shrublings sitting on the lawn. Wonder if neighbor is trying to hide a really bad case of myopia.

2:45 Give up trying to preserve bush and chop at root with shovel. Sharp, my ass.

2:50 Clip ineffectually at root with tiny garden clippers.

2:55 Really want to give up. Wonder what time it is.

3 Baby is crying. Thank you, baby. Put away shovel, herd Nutmeg to back yard.

3:05 Get baby, nurse, change ANOTHER poopy.

3:10 Another quick shower for me to remove dirt from arms, legs.

3:20 Yell out the window to make sure Nutmeg is ok. She has actually come in already, it turns out.

3:30 Throw on clothes, get Nutmeg's swimming suit and a towel.

3:36 Tell Nutmeg, let's go to swimming. Nutmeg replies, correctly: "But I haven't had lunch yet!"

3:38 Grab a bag of Quakes (flavored rice cake), a can of coke, sippy of milk, and 3 cheese sticks. Tell Nutmeg how sweet she is when she takes one cheese stick and gives the others to Pebbles and me.

3:40 Drive to the gym. Resist temptation to use driving time to return a phone call I got this morning. Nutmeg reads the snack bag in the car: "Quacky's." Remind Nutmeg about the magical powers of silent E.

4:10 Get Nutmeg into swimsuit and into the pool area five minutes early. Teacher comments on how we are early! As in, not late for once!

4:20 Drop off Pebbles in babysitting room. Joke with the babysitting ladies.

4:25 Come to computer room and type this.

5 p.m. Audibly gasp in realization that swimming class is ending NOW a floor down.

5:05 p.m. Dash into pool area, where Nutmeg is the only kid left, shivering in a borrowed towel. Apologize to teacher.

5:07 p.m. Nutmeg takes a shower, I help her get dressed. Remember that we left the toy the neighbor just gave Nutmeg sitting in the front lawn near partially-exhumed bush. Worry that she'll think we're ungrateful.

5:15 p.m. Bring Nutmeg to babysitting room. Comfort Pebbles, who is upset, and give her some rice cakes, which make her happy.

5:20 Back to the computer lab for more writing and a couple of business emails. Set a new volunteer schedule for myself for May with the volunteer director. Explain to him, on request, what blogging is.

5:45 Pick up kids and wonder what we are going to have for dinner since I used my dinner-making time to partially dig up a bush.

As we sit outside our garage, with me pressing and pressing the garage door controller before it works, Nutmeg informs me that 2 and 3 make 5. She does a lot of these little math problems in the car, I've noticed.

6 Kids play in the yard while I look up a couple of potato recipes in Jane Brody. Wanted to make potato souffle but with 45 minutes till dinner it's not gonna happen. End up repurposing leftover homemade coleslaw, which Epu hates, into colcannon. Put Cub game on radio.

6:10 Out to the deck to check kids. Pebbles peacefully digging in sandbox. Nutmeg playing in plastic cottage. Weather still beautiful. Take 1/100th of a second to enjoy the moment. Then grab a handful of the wrapping paper littering the deck and run inside to work on dinner while stealing checks on the kids through the window.

6:12 Open a beer.

6:18 Nutmeg comes inside, so I go to fetch Pebbles. Who has begun eating sand. Mmm mmm.

6:20 Shake Pebbles outside, then proceed to sink for hand and face wash. Strap Pebbles into high chair against great protest. Put container of flavored yogurt in front of her and she does her new trick: self feeding.

6:30 While cooking dinner, marvel that this is usually the hardest time of the day, but Nutmeg is playing quietly with one of her new presents, and Pebbles is eating steadily.

6:31 Pebbles screams to get out of high chair, then proceeds to mix it up with sister. Sister puts a bunch of barettes in baby's hair, then for some reason sits on baby, producing loud wails.

6:32 Continue making dinner while threatening time outs.

6:38 Hallelujah, Epu walks in the door 7 minutes early due to having ridden his bike. Nutmeg drags stepstool over to the refrigerator to help herself to yogurt.

6:40 Epu gets Nutmeg outside and helps get picnic table cleared and tablecloth on for dinner. Wade through river of papers and crayons on kitchen floor to ferry plates and dinner from kitchen to deck.

6:45 Dinner on table. It's good but kids are not, being tired and not hungry. Still, we're outside on a beautiful evening. We watch the squirrels and Epu notices that birds are nesting in our eaves again.

7:05 Dinner ends when Nutmeg, playing around at the table, spills (fortunately, cooled) soup all over herself. Actually says she wants to go to bed. Complies with my order to strip down right there on the deck.

7:15 Epu and I get the girls redy for bed together. I take Pebbles, he takes Nutmeg.

7:20 Epu reads both girls a story on the bed while I grab the opportunity to pick up some of the clothes and bath toys (?!) all over the girls' bedroom floor.

7:30 I try nursing Pebbles but she's too keyed up. She wants to get into bed with Nutmeg. We say sure just to see what will happen.

7:35 Pebbles is being rowdy. Nutmeg is trying to get her to lie down.

7:37 At Nutmeg's request, remove Pebbles from her bed. Try nursing again, but she shakes her head no. Put Pebbles in the crib and leave.

7:40 Pebbles cries and cries. Help Epu finish cleaning up from dinner.

7:45 Pebbles still crying. Cubs losing.

7:50 Attack the mess of papers and art supplies on kitchen floor. Decide there is way too much stuff crammed into Nutmeg's art bins, which Pebbles is always getting out and spreading all over. Sit down and organize one bin, throwing away a ton of stuff and sending some to the basement for future use. At some point Pebbles stops crying.

8 Epu goes out to try to finish digging up that shrub. I organize bin. Cubs nearly stage a 9th-inning comeback.

8:30 Epu reports that he got everything but one root. Apparently there were more roots I hadn't even seen. Still, we're back at the same place: partially exhumed shrub.

8:35 Epu gets to work removing baby gate from doorway and reattaching woodwork. He even vacuums up the dust.

9 Cubs lose. Bin organized. I go out to put bike and tricycle away, then go to CVS. Return phone call from that morning on the way there.

Pull off a perfect CVS transaction: Spend 2 ECBs and 69 cents off a gift card, receive 11 ECBs. The junk I buy mostly goes into the donation bag for the homeless shelter, except for the 35-cent filler I bought to make the transaction high enough to ues my coupon. The filler is an oatmeal cream pie. :-)

9:30 Home. File away my CVS money. Epu is struggling to try to export my Shoplifting With Permission blog from Typepad to Blogger for me.

9:35 Go upstairs to slip into something more comfortable.

9:40 Once again confronted with pile of clean laundry on our bed, not to mention the fact that somehow we got the wrong size sheets on our bed this week and they keep slipping off. The whole thing does not look appetizing to sleep on.

Attack the laundry pile. Put new sheets on the bed.

10:10 Back downstairs. Epu still struggling with the blog issue. Wipe down outside tablecloth and bring it in so the squirrels don't poop on it.

10:15 Sign a bunch of little checks for Epu to deposit tomorrow.

10:20 Finish reading the Tribune and the local weekly. Notice that eyes are only slightly burny after spending so much time outside. Yay allergy medicine!

10:30 Pebbles crying. Epu dutifully brings her downstairs so I can nurse her while reading paper. Put her back in bed.

11 Get out coupons to clip for tomorrow's shopping trip. Fire up laptop.

11:15 Type this up.

11:50 Should really be getting to bed. Will probably just finish typing coupons. Must stop staying up so late.

So there you have it. After four years, taking care of the kids more than ever feels just like a job. I don't have as many days as I used to where we just go to the park, stare at the clouds, or spend three hours exploring Target.

Today was definitely on the busy side for us. Fortunately the kids were so good nearly all day. That really made it a good one, despite how extremely tired I am and how sore I am going to be tomorrow due to my struggle with the shrub.

Girls Day Out

Today Nutmeg and I had a solo outing together, to a plant nursery, Menard's and then an unscheduled stop at McDonalds due to extreme need for refueling. I mentioned to her several times how special it was for us to have time just the two of us, and this worked periodically. She looked with interest at the plants in the nursery for the first 15 minutes, which I guess is the best I could expect from a 4-year-old. Then she kept saying she was tired and lying on the ground, which does not go over well with cart-pushing garden ladies.

We picked out some new bushes to replace our bedraggled, standard-issue evergreens. Nutmeg selected blueberry bushes, which will be an adventure, since I have never seen blueberry bushes in anyone else's yard, which makes me think there must be something hard about them or maybe they will just grow up to be ugly. But hey, they are supposed to attract birds and butterflies, and that's what we're after.

I selected two dwarf lilacs. We might end up putting some of this in the back or something because I'm sure we can't fit 4 big shrubs in front once they get growing.

Naturally, once we spent all afternoon buying plants, dirt and a shovel, the actual planting will have to wait until tomorrow.

Then the girls both got to enjoy a birthday party for a kid in Nutmeg's class, at My Gym. Best part about a late-afternoon My Gym party?

Both girls were quietly in their beds by 7:29. I have just enjoyed 5 child-free hours. Sadly, I spent much of it sorting through my precious coupons. Yes, that big challenge to the coupon cost-saving hypothesis, the time spent. Hopefully when I initiate my new coupon organizing system with the new file box I bought at this weekend's neighborhood rummage sale, time spent will go down significantly. If not, project couponing may get the boot.

Yikes, wakeup call is in 7 hours at BEST and I am snack mom once again tomorrow. As Pebbles would say, "Nigh-nigh."

Not Lam-buh But Lamb

Nutmeg seems to be kind of afraid of reading, or something like that. Anytime I tell her, "Read this book to Pebbles" or suggest a title that might be right for her to try, she insists that she can't read. Pause in the reading of a story, sometimes she'll name the next word, more often that not she'll implore, "You read."

But then, we're sitting at the table, and she points to the bargain leftover hunk of molded butter we'd bought that day. "Easter butter lamb," she says, and I say, Yup. That's what it is.

Only when I'm clearing to I notice the label on the side: "EASTER BUTTER LAMB."