Sold

Just a few quick moments to blog before I head to eBay to look for cognac-colored Oxford brogues: we had so much fun at the pool with the kids today. Taylor clung onto me in the water yesterday, but today she was alarmingly fearless, insisting on swimming by herself over and over again (don't have a heart attack, Liz: Chris or I was always right there with her, and she had her ladybug floaties on. She's a little mermaid, though, she did NOT want to leave. "I do it," she kept insisting, pushing our hands away so she could float and kick by herself). Austin's friends Bella and Addie showed up and with them he jumped from the side of the pool into the water over and over again. The kids are so sun-exhausted tonight that they're actually going to bed on time, although Taylor is still singing to herself in her crib on the baby monitor as I type. There's a Pixar CD that plays in the car and Chris does a funny Randy Newman imitation, singing "I'm a bug. Just a bug" from the A Bug's Life soundtrack in a voice that gets the kids (and me, I confess) giggling hysterically. Last night we were watching Toy Story and we heard Taylor on the baby monitor singing "I'm a bug...just a bug..." to herself. Dude, I really don't know how I'm going to go back to the rat race.

So that's what's up with me. Hope you're all having (or had, I suppose) a smashing Memorial Day weekend.

Superman Schmuperman

I came down the stairs a few minutes ago and lay down dramatically on the floor with my hand at my forehead. "Pick your poison," Chris said, and mixed me a Bloody Mary. Let's just say that I may have enjoyed an evening beverage after a long day at the office, but that's nothing compared to how I have enjoyed my evening beverage after three days as the caretakers for two kids under the age of four.

Now, don't get me wrong. This is still my favorite vacation. We're staying in a beautiful townhouse in a hugely comfy king size bed and there's a dishwasher and a laundry room and a back deck and a grill and a yard and one of those double-door stainless steel refrigerators and a dog who snuggles up next to you. Plus, my two favorite kids in the whole world. The first day I sneezed, and Taylor looked at me and said, "Bwess you, Wawa" and my heart melted into a puddle that hasn't congealed yet. I'm having an amazing time, and I'm not kidding. I'm so relaxed--I feel like the work world exists on a different planet entirely.

That being said, the next time we're all "Oh, let's take the kids out to dinner and then to Target!" someone really needs to clonk me on the head. I hope Liz doesn't have Internet access in Hawaii or she'll be so mortified at me. Oh well.

So at dinner, I'm sitting there waiting for the entree to arrive and I realize that my entire lap is slowly soaking. The front, the middle (my underwear), and the back (my butt). I don't know how and I don't know why. All three of Taylor's beverages were on the table as far as I could see. She had been sitting on my lap (one of the most gratifying things is that when you change someone's diapers sixteen times a day and rock them to sleep they really latch on to you, and when she comes running to me with her arms out I feel like I could burst, it makes me so happy), and I began to have a worried suspicion that maybe her diaper wasn't on quite right. But then the food came, and I was shoveling my salad into my mouth at an unchartable rate, trying frantically to finish so we could leave before a certain missy started hurling French fries at the elderly couple behind us, and couldn't quite check. We paid the bill and headed a few buildings over to Target to get Austin a Lego reward--he had his last day of school yesterday.

So we're in Target, and I'm mildly eyeing the Zac Posen line that's still there, because nothing ever sells out in Maryland, and Austin and Zach (my brother, a Lego expert) are heading off to the toy aisle, and I realize that I can't read the signs because I don't have my glasses on so Chris is helping me search in my purse but not only are the glasses not in the pocket I'd put them in, they're not in the purse AT ALL when I hear what I can only describe as a tinkling noise

and I look down and Taylor is gazing at her feet as a very clear puddle forms around them. (This girl drinks a lot of water.) "Oh my God," I say, and everything is in slow motion, like an action movie, and I pick her up and run for the restroom

where thank heaven the changing table is open because I sure have no idea how to maneuver them but guess what? It's right next to the hand drying machine. And apparently Target has no paper towel dispensers. You know what, it's great to be green. But YOUR HAND DRYING MACHINES ARE TERRIFYING MY SWEET LITTLE GODDAUGHTER.

So I'm trying to lay her down and she's screaming and screaming in fear, clutching at me, clenching her legs, and this nice lady looks at me apologetically and just as the machine shuts off, she hits the on button again.

I'M SORRY. YOU COULDN'T SHAKE YOUR HANDS DRY????

Somehow I get Taylor to lie down long enough for me to rip the wet diaper off her and throw it, unraveled and all, into the garbage. I pull another diaper out of my bag and get her into it and desperately pull it shut and

the tab rips.

Well, I am Auntie Superhero and I packed TWO diapers. So I pull out the other one and by now someone else is drying their hands like OH, DID YOU NOT KNOW THAT IT JUST BLOWS UP DIRTY AIR FROM THE GROUND? WIPE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR JEANS YOU'D BE BETTER OFF and Taylor's crying hysterically and begging me to pick her up and my heart is breaking and I get her into the second diaper and then I realize that it's backwards but WHO CARES and I tape it on her and we run out

and go to look at shoes but my glasses are lost and I can't read the shoe sizes even though I really want to get her a new pair of sandals because I think her jellies are too tight on her chubby little feet. So we go looking through all the clothes and she pulls a pair of shorts, hot pink with polka dots, from the rack, then a matching tshirt, then a pj set then another pj set and she's running through the store and I'm just following her, grateful she's forgotten her ordeal in the restroom and thinking to myself, at least her pee was clear. Whatever hapless employee has to clean it up won't even know. Then we found a Hello Kitty compact and she discarded all the clothes (which weren't her size) (because she loves kitties "meow," especially Hello Kitty kitties, more than anything, I forgot to say at the beginning) and Chris bought it and a Lego Star Wars set for Austin and now Austin and Zach are upstairs making it and I gave Taylor her tubby and she went to bed without a fuss except for the part where I put her onesie on her--she hates that, but once she's in it she goes to bed pretty easily. Okay. It's ... Saturday? I'm getting the hang of this. I'm having FUN, I love this so much--as I'm typing this I'm striving for ways to say how relaxed, tired, happy, exhausted, delighted I feel, but don't get me wrong:

I cannot believe Liz does this every day all by herself. I'm so happy she's in Hawaii. She deserves a royal vacation every year, I'm so serious. She's my new superhero. Actually so is my mom because by the time my sister was Taylor's age my mom also had Zach and I just ... my mind boggles. It boggles. Moms: you deserve more than just a day in May. 

Update: I lied, she was still squawking on the monitor an hour later, so I took her up another bottle and offered to rock her but she just laid down, she didn't want to get out of her crib. I said, "I love you, Taylor," and around the bottle she said, "Wuv you toooo." I said "na-night" and "go to sleep, okay?" Then I said "okay?" again. "Otayy," she said.

I'm worse than those people who show you their wallet photos and I know it.

The morning after

I'm happy for all those of you who liked last night's Lost finale, I really am. I'm not being snarky. I wish I could have felt the same way. I was enjoying it for about the first half. I did cry when Sun and Jin saw their baby on the monitor. And also at the end, although those may have been tears of rage.

As much as I would have preferred having all the answers presented, I'm okay without them (you know, what was the statue? why did the Others kidnap people on lists that Ben gave them in season 1? why was Walt special? why did Widmore have rules too? etc. I can deal) save one:

I can't believe they never really explained what the island was supposed to be.

Well, there're a lot of things I can't believe, actually, but I'm just going to go with "It was a great show a lot of the time and maybe some day I'll watch seasons 1 and 2 again."

I almost signed this "Love, Laura"

May is almost over. How did that happen?

Highlights from the month include baking scones with my mom on Mother's Day, watching the wrap ups of Lost (disappointing) and Fringe (amazing) with my sweetie, and getting my ass kicked at Power Yoga a couple of times.

On Thursday I'm heading to Maryland with Chris to babysit A. and T. for 8 days. I'm looking forward to it! If I make it through the three work days / eleven days worth of work before then. And then it will be summer. So weird. Is time flying extra fast this year, or was it just that I felt like my wedding Would Never Come this time last year?

Happy weekend!

And that's just the subplot

One of my friends emails a snippet from the Twilight wiki every day. We've made our way through the plots of Books 1, 2, and 3, and are now enmired in the over-the-top world of Breaking Dawn.

I've really enjoyed chuckling over these books, because (sorry fans) they're so ridiculous. But today's entry made me pause, and is the reason why I'm breaking my cheerful "If you like them that's totally cool!" silence:

"It is unknown what would happen if the imprintee were to reject their shape-shifter, but it's implied that the shape-shifter could go into an irrational rage and hurt and scar their imprintee very badly, as it seemed to have happened to Emily with Sam.


She has three long scars on the right side of her face, and one long scar reaching down to her arm, which were inflicted by Sam when he lost his temper and changed into a wolf while standing right next to Emily. Everyone was led to believe that the scars are from a bear attack. Emily has black hair and is said to have been beautiful before getting the scars.

After becoming a shape-shifter, Sam imprinted on Emily. She was furious at first, but she was meant to be with Sam, and fell in love with him. One night, Sam lost control of his anger and accidentally hurt Emily, leaving her horribly scarred on the right side of her face and all the way down her right arm, reaching to her hand. Despite that, Sam loves her unconditionally, but has never forgiven himself for being so careless.
Emily Young is Sam Uley's fianceé."


Women really don't have any kind of choice or control over their destinies in Stephenie Meyer's world, do they? It's not funny to me anymore. An entire generation of teen girls have taken these books so deeply to heart. Ugh.

Can't handle it!

Between seeing the preview for Babies on Sunday, getting to see Taylor and Austin this coming weekend, chatting with one of the pregnant designers at work who's due in July, and this picture of my cousin's baby Luci, I am going to EXPLODE with the unbearable cuteness in the world.