tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41494175553310471132011-11-27T18:33:14.149-05:00Please visit Just Barely's new site, www.justbarely.net and keep the laughs coming!justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.comBlogger1101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-32382364685845014432009-03-08T22:04:00.005-04:002009-03-08T22:20:35.981-04:00

Farewell, just-barely.blogspot.com. You gave me two good years, but it's time to move on.VISIT JUST BARELY AT ITS NEW SITE,WWW.JUSTBARELY.NET(click here)

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-55069875377163334202009-03-07T14:56:00.001-05:002009-03-07T14:57:29.915-05:00

from Half-Assed Vegetarian... Last night we went out for pizza with some long time real-vegetarian friends (the kind that don't dream about bacos or Arby's). First, they informed me that fish IS meat. I informed them, shut up. Then they warned me about not going overboard with... soy. Now I can see how stuff could go horribly wrong for a newbie carnivore, but I never really thought plant eating

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-51353220769039648272009-03-02T10:54:00.016-05:002009-03-02T22:13:21.274-05:00

Vegetarian for a MonthSteve and I have decided to go vegetarian for the month of March. The idea was mine to begin with, but I'm kind of fuzzy on the reasoning behind it seeing as how I don't have any moral or health problems with eating beasties--in fact, I find them to be quite delicious. I think it started out as some sort of Double Dog Dare when I was drunk that was escalated when I told

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-62929664528822984042009-02-20T13:36:00.004-05:002009-02-20T13:56:04.434-05:00

I dropped Ella off at Catholic school this morning for her Kindergarten screening. The day started an hour earlier than usual, and, after directing my week's allotment of profanities at the alarm clock, I stumbled toward the bathroom where there was a tired looking woman with greasy hair squinting back at me. I thought Ella shouldn't start off with a knock against her because of her unkempt

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-83331284507022893992009-02-03T14:35:00.005-05:002009-03-02T22:55:42.238-05:00

I've been wallowing in self-pity a lot this week. The oral hygienist told me I have gingivitis even though I'm one of the ten people on the face of the earth who actually does floss, Addison spilled our sea monkeys all over the ottoman, I got a cold and realized we were out of both TheraFlu and whiskey the day after our medical FSA expired, I picked at what would have been a small unnoticeable

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-21767215739113760072009-02-01T12:46:00.001-05:002009-02-01T12:46:19.317-05:00

"Mommy, will you please help me make my bed in the morning? Because I like it to be nice and neat and not messy.""Sure, I'll help you.""Can we write a note? Because yesterday and the yesterday before that and the yesterday before that you said you would help me and you keep on forgetting. And my bed hasn't been made for a very long time and I don't like that."She's right. I've never made her

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-9983341220842721502009-01-29T15:37:00.004-05:002009-01-29T21:52:10.847-05:00

This past August I passed gracefully into my 30s. It really wasn't a big deal--I was still hip, I was still cool (no I wasn't). I wore Converse sneakers and listened to the Top 20 on 20 (when I wasn't listening to 90s on 9). As it turns out, 30 may not have been the silver bullet to my youth, but 30 1/2 is. The true end of my 20s came crashing down on me with a simple step through the door of

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-44844711858268353952009-01-28T11:54:00.004-05:002009-01-28T11:57:13.550-05:00

Ok, I have heard back from a few more starter recipients.The nurse at my psychiatrist's office straight up killed her starter. The poor thing never really had a chance. She claims I never gave her the directions, but I think she's just cold hearted. If you get in touch with your inner-yeast and listen closely, it'll tell you what to do.My hypnotherapist left hers in the care of her husband

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-38361544664469758942009-01-22T09:02:00.008-05:002009-01-22T14:06:31.280-05:00

Wow, the tale of my Amish Nightmare has caused quite a few responses--some contemplative, some slightly morbid.Sarah has really chewed over the phenomena of the bread starter and has come up with some brilliant theories. Allow me to share:Amish Bread and the Devil's MathematicsThere is a sequence of numbers called a Fibonacci Sequence.In the Fibonacci sequence of numbers, each number is the sum

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-62149079141224169092009-01-15T13:51:00.006-05:002009-01-15T14:26:43.275-05:00

"I have a question to ask you," my friend told me over the phone. She sounded a little nervous, and I wondered what in the world she could want. "Would you be interested in taking an Amish bread starter?" Really, that was it? A bread starter? That sounded pretty harmless. "It's okay if you say no, it's kind of a pain. You have to do a lot of stuff to keep it going, but it makes really good

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-2763451137627524522009-01-08T15:06:00.002-05:002009-01-08T15:18:27.732-05:00

Just two of the many reasons why my children are ridiculous (today):1. Addison insisted upon bringing a book with her to school today. The name of the book: 50 Ways to Kill a Slug. Said book had to also go with her to Wendy's, Target and Sam's Club.2. Ella is supposed to be upstairs taking a nap. Instead she has snuck downstairs and is hiding in the playroom. Her hiding place is in the

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-63216452124904150112009-01-05T15:12:00.009-05:002009-01-05T15:36:05.713-05:00

While beginning to contemplate the possibility of maybe (someday) starting to take down the Christmas decorations (a process that will last until well after the Easter Bunny comes), I had the following revelation about the Christmas stockings I've made over the years. I invite you to gaze upon them while taking in the wisdom they impart:Steve's StockingNotice: The design on this stocking is

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-26845488849213422292008-12-13T22:11:00.002-05:002008-12-13T22:16:30.229-05:00

Bye bye, baby, hello, big girl!Wowza, what a year it's been! I can't wait to see what you'll be up to in your third year...

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-7292165458497886922008-12-11T13:57:00.005-05:002008-12-11T14:39:08.721-05:00

The youngest has started telling jokes--or at least a one-year-old's equivalent of jokes. Her punch line changes every week, but when it's in vogue, it's consistent. The first was diaper. "Are you mommy's baby?" I asked as I rocked my woman-sized youngest daughter. "No Mommy's baby... Daddy's baby!" "You're Daddy's baby?" "No Daddy's baby, Ella's baby!" "You're Ella's baby?" "Yes." She

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-12470711097442629842008-11-26T23:32:00.002-05:002008-11-26T23:34:23.755-05:00

"I feel like I shouldn't have to mop the walls." -Steve

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-51045112127363416352008-11-20T14:11:00.002-05:002008-11-20T14:22:20.740-05:00

Today was Addison's first day at school since this week's "cold snap." This meant she would be on the playground at the unforgivingly chilly hour of 10:30 am, and the high today was only in the 50s. As Ella and I donned our coats and hats, Addison declared she wanted to wear her "geen jack-keet"-- no, needed to wear it. It was almost as if the rest of her life depended upon wearing this jacket

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-67564077082981749692008-11-18T15:47:00.002-05:002008-11-18T15:58:49.979-05:00

When I turned on the radio yesterday I caught the DJ talking about how cold it was going to be the next day. Supposedly the high was only going to be in the upper 40s! Gasp! We were told to get out our coats and scarves. Horrified, I flipped to another channel where, yet again, another radio personality was practically hyperventilating over the weather forecast. I checked the weather as soon

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-63171646944611208612008-11-13T14:05:00.001-05:002008-11-13T21:30:09.608-05:00

Ah, the Holiday card picture. I doubt there's a person under the age of forty who hasn't been made to pose for one at some point in their lives. I've had to do so for thirty years now (my siblings and I hoped it would end when we started having our own kids, but it has just been made into an opportunity to get even more people to stand still and smile for the camera.)When we were kids, the

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-87842926190565403342008-11-10T15:21:00.004-05:002008-11-10T21:40:36.574-05:00

From Just Barely's second guest blogger, Emily Sable, I give you The Un-nappable:Sunday night and much to my delight, my mother-in-law and the famous two-year old came to visit us for a couple of days. Two-year old was carried in by m-i-l since it was late, so husband and I kissed her good night and she was put to bed. On weekday mornings, I wake up with husband around 5:55 am (it hurts just to

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-5216778312695820822008-10-16T21:34:00.006-04:002008-10-20T15:07:11.889-04:00

A couple of months before her first birthday Addison started sharing with us revelations such as "dog" (of which we have none), "cat," and "croc". For the next six months or so she spoke in tongues--none of them intelligible--until she turned one and a half and decided to give English a try. Addison's early words were usually warnings, but I was so enamored by the novelty of her speaking that

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-50780077760627396352008-10-13T10:22:00.006-04:002008-10-13T10:55:20.691-04:00

Cheer, Cheer for Old Notre DameThis past Saturday we went to the UNC-Notre Dame game. Although we weren't in the visitor's section, the stadium was peppered with Notre Dame fans and we happened to sit directly in front of a woman with unbridled enthusiasm for the Fighting Irish. Actually, that's not true. Our seats were a row down and a couple over from hers, but upon seeing our green shirts

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-4562776088687925352008-10-06T14:24:00.003-04:002008-10-06T14:31:07.952-04:00

Remember back in Quandaries when I explained the game Ella and I play where she thinks she's clever by sneaking out of her room at nap time and magically standing within three feet of me without me knowing, and I think I'm equally clever by pretending I don't see her so I can go about my business without having to parent her back to bed? She used to only come out when she knew I was in my room

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-51248752832792420882008-10-03T13:42:00.006-04:002008-10-03T13:48:29.777-04:00

Read Nemesis Part I to find out how (I think) I got one to begin with."I have a nemesis" I proudly told my friend as we sat across from each other at a table in the food court. This sort of thing is right up her alley, so she leaned in, waiting to hear more. My friend was also fascinated by the situation and, since I didn't know my nemesis' real name, she spent the rest of our time trying to

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-12929578248750306952008-10-02T15:19:00.004-04:002008-10-03T13:53:48.644-04:00

We all sat around the room facing each other for meet the teacher night for Addison's new class. The air was abuzz with excitement--some of it nervous, some joyous. Those who were sending a child off for the first time sat ramrod straight, glancing around the room for reassurance that they were doing the right thing. The rest of us were leaning back in our chairs smoking cigars and counting

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-21600265196905879232008-09-23T20:58:00.004-04:002008-09-23T21:23:07.800-04:00

"Water, chicken broth, parsley..." Ella listed as she stirred a bowl full of water at the kitchen table. "Are you making chicken soup?" I asked. "Yes, and now I'm going to add a pinch of kosher salt," she told me. "Kosher salt? Who told you to add that?" "Jesus told me," she replied. I didn't even know he cooked. The kosher salt did make sense, though--after all, he was a Jew. I was

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-6778410459663765732008-09-15T15:10:00.006-04:002008-09-16T12:44:09.624-04:00

Some people are terrorized by dogs, others by bullies, some by the IRS. I know a woman who has been dive bombed several times by birds who try to pull out her hair to add to their nest. Another friend is plagued by stray cats. I am stalked by red ants that bite.The first time I got bit by a fire ant was the summer we moved south. When the little bugger got me on the big toe it burned like

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-81509932670369723512008-09-12T14:55:00.003-04:002008-09-13T00:02:29.091-04:00

I have a cat who used to mark his territory by peeing on things. In college he liked my roommate the best, so he peed on her quilt. While we were on our honeymoon he peed on Steve and my wedding gifts. Once I was writing a paper on the many revisions F. Scott Fitzgerald made to The Great Gatspy, and my cat jumped up on the bed and peed on a copy of the original manuscript. I guess he didn't

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-32594586618511997732008-08-27T14:25:00.005-04:002008-08-27T14:39:15.998-04:00

(a follow up to last month's Flies in the House)In June we had flies in the house. There were about a half dozen of them. The kids ushered them in and made sure they were well fed on discarded snacks and under the table dinner remnants. They were comfortable here and stayed for a few weeks. I thought our vacation in the beginning of July would be the end of them, as they would have no one to

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-44252873576995976652008-08-17T20:54:00.006-04:002008-08-20T23:17:22.167-04:00

Last week was Ella's birthday. For months she's been planning what her life will be like when she's four. For example, when a thunderstorm drives her to our bed, she snuggles in and tells us not to worry, she won't be afraid of thunder anymore when she's four. She cried all night long on the Fourth of July, but says she'll like the fireworks next year, when she's four.Plans Ella has vocalized

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-60324550236157054132008-08-13T14:32:00.004-04:002009-01-08T15:37:32.344-05:00

My brothers spent most of their adolescence trying to knock each other's heads off. They were best friends. For a while I was in on it, too. I had the distinct advantage of being a normal size adopted kid in a family of biologically short siblings. As such, I towered over my brothers and was fun to wrestle with. I remember trudging across our back yard with a football under one arm and a

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-49275910780347483882008-08-06T14:00:00.004-04:002008-08-07T07:53:19.876-04:00

Today I made the mistake of visiting the beer aisle first on my shopping trip to Target. I wasn't even looking for beer; I was looking for club soda (to mix with gin). When I left the aisle empty handed, Ella announced quite loudly to the crowded dairy aisle, "Mommy, you forgot to buy beer!" "We don't need beer in our house (this is only because I just bought a case at Sam's Club)," I replied

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-73850474584766957002008-07-02T16:34:00.001-04:002008-07-02T16:36:08.959-04:00

There are flies in the house. And I don't know why. Ella, close the front door! You're letting the cold air out! As I was saying, I'm not sure how they got here. Other people's houses don't have flies. Why does mine? Addison! Why are you standing half on the porch and half in the kitchen? Pick one and go there! Now that they're here, why are they staying? The girls are always trying to

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-64925440862786088442008-06-25T14:18:00.005-04:002008-06-25T14:39:03.621-04:00

A lot of you have written to me asking about what happened to Franklin. Thank you for your concern for our smelly renegade camp mascot, and I apologize for leaving you hanging. Turtle Week is not coming at you in real time--it actually happened a few weeks ago and I have had the story outlined, but not finished, until now. I give you the final installment of Turtle Week at Camp Amy...

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-1808453142630160212008-06-20T15:59:00.003-04:002008-06-20T16:20:48.401-04:00

(if you haven't done so already, first read Part I: Franklin Goes to Camp)Part II: Franklin Leaves CampOnce the kids were in bed, I made Franklin a little turtle lunch that consisted of spring greens and freshly diced apples. I then decided to address the stinky habitat situation before putting him back in his home. I was outside hosing out the rubbermaid when the guy I had hired to grind some

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-40786957099682677572008-06-19T15:19:00.007-04:002008-06-20T16:24:20.704-04:00

Part I: Franklin Goes to CampAbout week after the great Camp Sarah debacle of 08, I got a call from my neighbor. She had found a turtle sitting in the middle of the road while she was out for her morning run, and wondered if I wanted it for the girls. A filthy suicidal street turtle that was probably ridden with salmonella? Hell yeah, I wanted it! I had a vision: Turtle Week at Camp Amy.Once

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-22322649612246691752008-06-14T22:23:00.006-04:002008-06-15T08:36:10.525-04:00

Today Just Barely the Youngest turned one and a half years old. When she was born less than two weeks before Christmas, we decided we wouldn't make a big fuss over Addison's birthday and celebrate her half birthday instead. Because the child loves bugs (points to them, picks them up, eats them, etc), and because "bumble bee" is one of the few words in her language arsenal, I decided to make her

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-45055956857928621112008-06-03T22:21:00.002-04:002008-06-04T21:27:16.496-04:00

As the school year drew to a close, I found myself looking with envy at the posters for summer camp that were popping up everywhere. Going back to parenting all day every day was going to be harsh. Whereas I was wallowing in self pity that summer camp wasn't on the calendar for the Just Barelys, my friend Sarah had a vision--Camp Sarah. She would pick a theme for each week and she and the

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-84090783067006541632008-05-27T15:08:00.003-04:002008-05-27T15:21:03.203-04:00

This story is long overdue, but it was interrupted by Quandaries (making it indeed, the nature of Just Barely), and then by laundry, and then by dinner, and then by snotty noses...I should have gone to check on them, but I needed to get their lunch ready and it was so much easier to do with them not around.I should have gone to check on them once their lunch was on the table, but I was hungry too

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-21654144738417293432008-05-20T23:02:00.002-04:002008-05-20T23:07:27.628-04:00

Ella: Knock, knock.Me: Who's there?Ella: Nobody's home!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! HA, HA, HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(repeat 30bazillion times--the hilarity only intensifies with age.)Tomorrow's the last day of school. I have a whole summer of this ahead of me. Gin, please!

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-39324662638439038942008-05-07T14:12:00.003-04:002008-05-07T14:19:15.915-04:00

Did anyone else go to test drive a car, reach in your wallet to get your license so the salesperson could make a copy of it, and hand him a tampon instead? No? Just me? Huh. It seems more people would make that mistake, what with a license and a tampon being practically the same thing and all. Just Barely trying to look like I know what I'm doing when I go in there to buy a new car,Amy

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-50582222410088970932008-04-30T10:09:00.002-04:002008-04-30T10:19:56.752-04:00

I found this offering on my counter this morning. Let's see who can guess what it is and who it's from!

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-62246649835741000002008-04-25T15:11:00.006-04:002008-05-27T15:22:18.190-04:00

I'm sitting on my bed trying to write a story about the spawn's latest absurdity (Going to Agumano), but the Just Barely the Oldest has other designs for my afternoon. The children are supposed to be napping. I know Just Barely the Youngest is (because I don't hear her, and Addison does not know how to be conscious and not be heard), and I know Ella is not. But she doesn't know that I know,

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-55965371095164988892008-04-21T21:39:00.004-04:002008-04-21T22:31:02.211-04:00

As if any pig recipe could possibly top that ham-cake I offered up at Easter time...I've never been a big fan of pork (thatswhatshesaid), especially pork chops, but I found some cutlets on sale one day and there's nothing I like more than a deal. They could be selling marinated poo and I'd buy it if it was half off. That bargain pig parked itself in my freezer, and there it sat for months. I

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-69118931328033318002008-04-13T21:58:00.001-04:002008-04-13T22:02:26.118-04:00

This week's sermon was taken from Exodus. The theme was "Keep Holy the Sabbath". After talking about how important it is for us to take time out of our lives for just for ourselves so that we can spiritually rejuvenate, the pastor asked us to close our eyes and take a minute to just be with ourselves. I was in the cry room with Addison and sitting on the floor anyway, so I got into a

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-34059482090871031802008-04-11T15:08:00.000-04:002008-04-11T15:09:10.127-04:00

After a bout of exceptional clinginess, crabbiness and waking up at unacceptable times of the morning for the past few days, Just Barely the Youngest woke up from her nap yesterday with a high fever. The ear thermometer registered at 102.7--I couldn't subject her to the rectal. A Motrin-Tylenol one-two punch brought it down to 101, and made her happier, but when we went to the park later that

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-67597822372323413792008-04-08T14:53:00.001-04:002008-04-08T14:53:52.379-04:00

I hate to wash the jeans because they fade. I guess I should save them for when the kids aren't around, but I find that to be a whopping NEVER, so I put them on. Adding the black shirt invited the inevitable. And the black Converse? Well, that's just asking for it.Bare buns covered in Desitin sat on my lap before I could diaper them.Sticky oatmeal hands grabbed a hold of me and wouldn't let

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-88341212436540936062008-04-01T21:16:00.017-04:002008-04-01T22:03:08.048-04:00

Mud. And where's there's mud, there's Just Barely the Youngest.p.s. Has anyone read David McPhail's Sisters? Here's Addison in the sink getting de-mudded while Ella is playing dress-up as some sort of princess-bride frilly thing.

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-2148204430882897972008-03-31T15:26:00.001-04:002008-03-31T15:29:15.753-04:00

It's a cold and rainy day in Durham, and it looks like it's going to be a long one. When my baby monitor rooster (aka Addison) woke me up this morning, I was still tired because Ella had woken up with about a million reasons (all of them absurd) to come into our bedroom last night. It was hard to get my eyes open, and not just because I was tired. Both of my eyes were gooped shut by the

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-50366514862079447422008-03-25T14:28:00.000-04:002008-03-31T15:26:39.165-04:00

Unlike the many applications I have up my sleeve to deal with the 40 lbs of turkey that are inevitably left over from my inability to buy anything less than a 600 lb genetically altered bird come Thanksgiving, I'm not that good with the ham that remains after Jesus rolls back the stone and the Easter Bunny goes home. This year my mom found an interesting Frankenstein of a recipe that mixes ham

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-29222661929696629622008-03-22T22:11:00.002-04:002008-03-25T22:44:15.050-04:00

This story is from last year, but I think it deserves a repeat. Happy Easter, everyone! Growing up we were always away on vacation for Easter, and for one reason or another The Bunny didn't make it to Florida. There was a feeble attempt at hiding eggs for my cousins and I one year early on, but an egg that was nestled in the cushions of the couch at our rental house was sat upon, thereby

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-49550200465489041862008-02-03T15:54:00.000-05:002008-02-05T20:41:19.776-05:00

Mom's coming to visit! Better find the kitchen floor! Where to begin? How about paper towels? Ahh, much better now that those globs of smooshed banana and playdough are gone. Now to move on to other solids--for that, we need a broom. Well, well, well. Let's see what's in our little pile here. Sandwich crust? Check. Shredded napkins? Check. Dried up old pasta? Of course. Pieces of

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-17790825290615956202008-01-30T11:02:00.001-05:002008-01-30T11:08:01.156-05:00

As I quadruple rolled the sleeves on Just-Barely the Youngest's sweater, something occurred to me--either this sweater had really stretched out or... Sure enough, a quick check of the tag told me I had put her in a size 4T sweater this morning, meaning I had sent Just-Barely the Oldest to school this morning in a 12-18 month sweater. I have to stop drinking before breakfast...

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-7270514381224221652008-01-30T10:01:00.000-05:002008-01-30T10:22:13.980-05:00

This morning we registered the kids for school next fall. That's right, kids. Just-Barely the Oldest will be gone from 9-1 Monday-Thursday, and Just-Barely the Youngest will be participating in the Parents Morning Out program on Thursdays from 9-12. According to my math, that's three hours a week with no children. I plan to spend those hours taking a bath, or drinking a martini, or possibly

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-57894685648981245912008-01-28T15:48:00.000-05:002008-01-28T15:49:27.393-05:00

Ella is usually the first one up in the morning, and if I'm still getting dressed or drying my hair (or, fine, I admit it, sleeping) when I hear Addison wake up, I send Ella in to distract her sister and buy me some time. Occasionally I can hear Ella reading to Addison, but most of the time I have no idea what they're doing in there. All I know is when I get to her room it's some times hard to

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-3745943188817178682008-01-21T16:15:00.001-05:002008-01-21T16:15:59.916-05:00

"Mommy, I'm going to take these apples and take them in the bathroom and fill the sink up with water and put them in the water and then they will be so juicy and yummy in my tummy. Mmmmm mmmm mmmm."And with that she headed off to juicify her fruit. I heard her pull her stool over to the sink, turn the water on and pull up the stopper. She gave her apples a bath for about a minute or so and then

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-81065008290063224712008-01-14T15:45:00.000-05:002008-01-23T13:59:59.195-05:00

It's new year's resolution time and people are flocking to the gym en masse, including yours truly. After five years away, I went back to my first yoga class today. The class was packed with old timers who could bend like Gumby, new timers who couldn't yet sit cross legged, and sometimers like myself. It was so full, in fact that it was hard to find a place to put your mat that wasn't on top

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-91185645501653329202008-01-03T08:41:00.001-05:002008-01-03T09:16:16.738-05:00

Here it is again, the first month of a new year, which is traditionally a time for people to evaluate their lives--to look at where they've been and where they're going. Ella shared her vision of the future with me today from the back seat of the car. "I'm going to have coffee when I grow up. And have real gum. And I'm going to shave."Here I've been, distressed by the enormity of the life

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-75709947209985407382007-12-07T13:57:00.000-05:002007-12-07T14:00:55.332-05:00

Ella is very observant, and she feels the need to announce to everyone what everyone else, including herself, is doing. When she uses it to tell on herself or other people, this tendency is often times helpful, for example, "Mommy, I opened the front door all by myself!" or, "Mommy, Addison is eating shards of glass!" Her announcements are often humorous, as in, "Mommy, I just did a poop that

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-23071792867744593702007-11-11T21:05:00.000-05:002007-11-11T21:48:30.295-05:00

The autumn we moved to North Carolina we saw kids walking around on campus wearing scarves and gloves when it was 60 degrees outside. Steve and I both had on short sleeved shirts and made fun of them endlessly. Four and a half years later we are the people we used to make fun of. "It's supposed to get ridiculously cold this week," a friend told me last week as she stood in the 70 degree warmth

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-61132341783199280892007-11-01T10:00:00.000-04:002007-11-01T10:16:47.404-04:00

This year has been the year of the princess. I don't know who started it or when the glitter first leaked in, but my rough and tumble football playing, dirt digging, lover of cars, trucks, trains and bugs has turned pink. For her birthday she was thoroughly princessed--books, crowns, wands, purses, she even got a fanny pack containing eyeshadow, lipstick, and a cell phone with princesses on it!

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-35360926581476842332007-10-30T16:50:00.000-04:002007-10-30T21:32:42.458-04:00

This has been a big week for JustBarely the Youngest. She said her first word, stood up for the first time, got her first tooth, and took her first steps. I hope she writes to me when she gets to college next week.Addison and her first word, "cat."Standing O!

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-34110234408077567682007-10-29T09:52:00.000-04:002007-10-31T10:30:48.881-04:00

Oh, no! Victoria's Secret has been reading my blog (My Cups Runneth Under)! They just sent me an email about their new "Air push-up bra." The claim is "unique air pockets create weightless padding without adding bulk"--kind of reminds me of those Pump Sneakers from the 90s (remember them?). I think my favorite part is they claim it gives you "natural-looking cleavage," which I'm sure is made

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-36686526793175467802007-10-26T10:28:00.000-04:002007-10-26T10:35:27.809-04:00

A couple of years ago a friend of mine told me she once had nice perky boobs but they disappeared after she had kids. Her two boys didn't leave her with much. Another friend, who had just finished breastfeeding her second child, likened her breasts to "golf balls in socks." It wasn't going to happen to me, I thought. I had nice boobs before I got pregnant the first time, even nicer (or at

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-38966277682480822072007-10-22T15:43:00.000-04:002007-10-22T15:46:51.094-04:00

Game Five of the ALCS found the girls and me sitting on folding chairs with my dad in the garage of my parents' house. The original plan was to watch the game out on the back porch around a fire pit. I envisioned snacks, beer, and lots of family. Instead were were in the garage with my dad, drinking cheap wine and watching the game on a small t.v. that was jury rigged with cable from the

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-32885135254895084252007-10-05T10:59:00.000-04:002007-10-16T22:31:58.883-04:00

The house was clean at 4:00. I cleaned it while the girls took a nap. All of the stuffed animals that were strewn about the house, the five hundred crayons (many of them half chewed) and the little pieces of paper that had been peeled off of them, the tea set, the cheerios in the cracks of the couch, the soggy discarded goldfish crackers, the puzzle pieces, the train tracks, the sippy cups full

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-51181212688356934822007-09-29T10:18:00.000-04:002007-09-29T11:38:04.454-04:00

Ella, looking at a t-shirt catalog: "Mommy, what's that man doing?" Me, only half paying attention: "I don't know, honey."Ella: "Maybe he's making a first down!"Me, surprised that she knows something about the game other than tackling and scoring touchdowns: "Who taught you about first downs?"Ella: "Not Notre Dame!"Just Barely holding out hope that 0-3 (now 0-4) won't make it to 0-5 today,

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-1579349848660929422007-09-28T15:44:00.001-04:002008-03-27T13:25:08.502-04:00

Allow me to set the stage:The girls need to take a bath and I need to pump (for newish readers-I pump and bottle feed my baby), so I decide to kill those two proverbial birds with that old proverbial stone and pump while I watch them in the tub. I put the kids in the water, get the old pump bra out (if you don't know what that is, don't worry about it-just know that it's a hands free way of

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-39070753738454515422007-09-28T14:48:00.000-04:002007-10-16T22:47:34.091-04:00

"Restriction of free thought and free speech is the most dangerous of all subversions. It is the one un-American act that could most easily defeat us."—Supreme Court Justice William O. Douglas"An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all."-Oscar WildeTop Ten Most Challenged Books of 2006:And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter ParnellGossip Girl Set

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-90068059052706053962007-09-18T14:30:00.000-04:002007-10-15T16:20:04.466-04:00

Ever since my baby started pulling up a month and a half ago that's all she wants to do. Up, down, up, down, up, down all day long. Getting herself into a standing position amuses her immensely and how proud she is of herself is written all over her face. The problem is I'm her favorite leverage and, like all babies, she has a built in honing device that helps her track the mom at all times,

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-33107432008937388432007-09-17T09:25:00.000-04:002007-09-17T17:47:21.926-04:00

Just after Ella turned one we taught her how to raise her arms in the touchdown sign and to say "Go Irish!". When she was two she learned how to tuck the ball under her arm and run, tackle her dad, and say "touchdown" and "Go Notre Dame!" Here it is, football season again, and every time she trips or falls down Ella says "tackled!" When she drops something she says, "fumble!" A friend taught

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-47762328494762722342007-09-12T17:03:00.000-04:002007-09-12T17:12:58.328-04:00

(Just Barely Best Friends, Fly, Baby Bird, Fly!, Redirecting the Bird, What Now?)A couple of people have emailed me asking how it's going at School A. I'm pleased to announce it's going great. Okay, so it did take two teachers to get Ella off of me when I dropped her off on the first day, and she did scream so loudly that she scared another child who also started crying, but the director told

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-87287963316084375092007-09-11T15:05:00.000-04:002007-09-11T16:03:22.064-04:00

As I strapped Addison back into her car seat after dropping off Ella for her new first day of school we looked at each other as if to say, "what now?""Well, kid, it's just me and you," I told her. "What do you want to do?" She sat up in her car seat and looked over at the unoccupied car seat next to hers. There was no one there to make her laugh as she got her seatbelt fastened. So instead she

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-30547915822802018882007-09-06T21:31:00.000-04:002007-09-09T21:48:58.978-04:00

We applied at two preschools last February. My daughter got wait listed at the school that had been my first choice, and was still 11th on the list a few days before school started so we paid a million fees (including an absurd snack fee, for which they should be getting lobster at 10:30am) and tuition and, last Tuesday, dropped her off at School B.The baby bird's first day of school didn't go

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-57108575928330603692007-08-28T14:34:00.000-04:002007-09-06T21:41:22.572-04:00

Today is Ella's first day of preschool. Fly, baby bird, fly! And for God's sake, don't come back until lunch time.Read Just Barely Best Friends

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-62463769039089221242007-08-26T14:22:00.002-04:002008-08-13T15:36:10.469-04:00

Last fall my daughter told me I was her best friend. It was the first time I had ever heard her use that phrase, and my heart melted. Later that evening, as she played in the dirt while my husband and I sat in the back yard, I overheard her telling a plastic garden shovel that it was her best friend. The club wasn't as exclusive as I had thought. For a while it was just me and the shovel.

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-52494743681798768702007-08-26T13:25:00.000-04:002007-08-27T14:29:19.229-04:00

My mother is guilty of committing hideous hair crimes against her children when they were young. It's not like we had trendy hair that was cool then but now looks ridiculous in pictures-our hair was just plain bad. My brothers had matching bowl cuts. The circumferences of their tiny heads were perfectly rimmed with hair, leaving no doubt that an actual bowl had been used to create these

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-19101622365193630582007-08-20T21:01:00.000-04:002007-08-22T21:14:42.238-04:00

A couple of days ago Ella came in our room at what I deemed to be too early an hour in the morning. "Go get back in your bed," I mumbled and turned over. When I heard the rustling of paper in our room a few minutes later I assumed she had brought in a bunch of books to look at while she waited for us to wake up. I drifted in and out of consciousness for about another half an hour while she

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-34467032170546936402007-08-15T15:39:00.000-04:002007-08-16T14:03:27.891-04:00

My baby just spit up. In my ear. I was trying to spend some rare quiet time with her and was holding her over my shoulder and rocking her when she leaned back just enough to get the right angle and regurgitated her lunch in my ear. It then ran down my neck and was soaked up by my collar. This morning she spit up something pink all over my shorts. I have no idea what it was. Those were my

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-6905364650302548722007-08-13T22:15:00.000-04:002007-08-22T21:39:59.862-04:00

Those of you who have flown with young kids know that you usually put just as much time and effort into packing for the plane ride as you do packing for the entire trip. No one wants to be the person whose bored kid is screaming or kicking the seat in front of them. I've flown solo with Ella at least a dozen times by now, and with both girls by myself a couple of times, as well. I should be a

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-502195951650680182007-08-09T11:44:00.001-04:002007-08-10T22:57:10.310-04:00

My first born turned three today. What a big year it's been for her! Allow me to recap some of her accomplishments.This year Ella:learned how to use the potty... most of the time (A Really Crappy Day, Personal Port-O-Potty);saw her first movie on the big screen, and loudly gave a running commentary of the whole thing, just in case anyone in the theater couldn't figure out what was going on;was

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-80274541936205258652007-08-06T12:13:00.000-04:002007-08-06T12:26:59.753-04:00

My pen and I are on vacation at the Lake of the Ozarks right now, so I'm giving you a shorty I wrote in January, a little over a month after Addison was born. The entrance to the wing in which my psychiatrist works is marked by a sign that reads, "Anxiety and Traumatic Stress Program," which is enough to make anybody anxious as they walk through the door. The bottom of the sign announces this

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-26386254646244795092007-07-30T22:04:00.000-04:002007-08-10T23:21:09.758-04:00

Greetings from the North Carolina Outer Banks, where I've already lost my swimsuit to the ocean six times (twice on top, four times on the bottom). Earlier this summer I got excited about having lost most of my pregnancy weight, and I bought a little less swim suit than I probably should have. I got my belly button re-pierced (I was certain belly bling would take off at least five years and two

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-47682138131122591722007-07-21T11:11:00.000-04:002007-07-24T09:30:42.533-04:00

Children love it when you childproof the house. They see it as a personal challenge--an opportunity to rise to the occasion. When we moved to this house Ella was old enough to know a skull and crossbones means "Don't drink this--use it to clean Mommy's windows for her because lord knows she's not going to do it," so we jammed some outlet covers in a couple sockets for show and called it a day.

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-36127113357291636002007-07-21T10:37:00.001-04:002007-07-24T22:05:09.400-04:00

Our friends at Ranger Up recently launched Operation GRIM, a campaign to raise money for the Wounded Warrior Project. It's a cause worth supporting. Below is an excerpt from Ranger Up's website. Please take a few minutes to read it over.Our nation owes everything to the brave men and women who have the courage to step into harm's way time and time again so that we may live peacefully here at

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-40184665763329721572007-07-20T11:04:00.000-04:002007-10-07T14:12:42.353-04:00

from Family Circle Magazine3/4 pound fettuccine pasta 1/2 pound green beans, trimmed and halved crosswise 3 tablespoons vegetable oil 1 large sweet red pepper, halved, cored, seeded and cut lengthwise into thin strips 1 small onion, cut lengthwise in 1/2 and thinly sliced crosswise 4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced 1 1/2 pounds medium-size shrimp, shelled and deveined 2/3 cup dry white wine 1/2

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-85957709064681842122007-07-19T13:09:00.000-04:002007-07-19T20:35:13.587-04:00

Just Barely Cookin' is a new segment I'm starting here on Just-Barely. Every week or so I hope to regale you with a tale from the kitchen and the recipe that goes with it. Bon appetit!Mom's Flying Meatloaf or, When Meat Becomes Airborne:I (yes, meat has become airborne more than once in my kitchen)When my friends' parents came to visit while we were in college, they came bearing things like

justbarelyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06290665791167483238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4149417555331047113.post-86685746787204213412007-07-08T09:40:00.000-04:002007-07-15T20:05:39.248-04:00

Birds are interesting to look at and sing pretty songs. We’ve always fed them and encouraged them to brighten our yard. They are beautiful creatures—when they’re outside. Something happens when they cross the thresh hold into your home, though, that transforms them into winged beasts of terror.Writing “Intruders Beware” reminded me of a time when a bird got in my parents’ house. I happened to be

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The Honeymoon's Over (Upon My 5th Wedding Anniversary)Ella emerged from my closet one morning with her soggy diaper around her ankles wearing one of Steve's flip flops and one of my slippers."I'm married," she announced."Married? To whom?" I inquired. I didn't remember her getting married. I must have been drunk."No," was her elusive reply. "Okay, I'm going to my wedding now," she threw over

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One Liner (or "No New Americans")Ah, there's nothing like a good pregnancy test first thing in the morning--especially when it tells you what you want to hear. After years of waiting anxiously for each of the girl's two lines to appear, it was odd to be relieved this morning when I only saw one. I was just being paranoid, really, as my symptoms can all be easily explained by the fact that I'm

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Intruders BewareAs I pulled into the driveway, beaten down from our little Disaster and a Movie, I noticed the front door of my house was open. WIDE open. There was about a 99.99% chance that I had left it open in a frenzy to get out of the house before the children could bring down the support beams, but there had been two day-time break-ins in our subdivision this past month, and if anyone

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Disaster and a MovieThe girls were revved up and in full destruction mode earlier than usual this morning. Before I finished my first cup of coffee, Ella had taken out every toy she owned and Addison had tried to eat several inappropriate items, including diapers, wipes and the cat, in between spitting up on every square in of... everything. If we didn't get out of the house, and fast, there

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This article appeared in the USA Weekend edition last week. I didn't write it, I just think it's worth the read.What younger dads can learn from older dadsFor next week's special day, an author shares learned knowledge with a new generation of fathers.By Philip LermanWhen you're 50 and the father of a toddler, like me, you realize there are lots of reasons for having kids at a much younger age.

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The Art of The LurchMy baby has been making overtures toward crawling lately. Addison doesn't zip around on all fours like the image that comes to mind when one pictures a baby crawling--she has more of a lurch thing going on.Whereas Addison used to just roll in the general direction of something she wanted and hoped to somehow land atop it, she now has a more creative way to reach her goal.

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I'm not a food Nazi or anything, but I'm pretty conscious of the nutritional content of what my kids eat--I don't let Ella drink a lot of juice or eat those gummy fruit snack things because of the sugar, I try to go with fresh vegetables instead of canned, stuff like that. Some days I'm more diligent about it than others--It's all quite arbitrary, actually. This story caught me on a day that I

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Every once in a while a story I've written in my notebook gets lost in the shuffle, only to be found and shared later when the fodder hasn't given me a chance to write about them lately. "Running Errand" was one such story. This is another. The events below transpired this past February.Tiny Pink Ella"Look, Mama, Pink Ella is jumping on a trampoline," Ella exclaimed from the back of the car. "

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A Small Tribute to a Great ManThe uncle I've been visiting in Hospice (see "Parting Gift") passed away yesterday. My aunt spent much of the afternoon telling him stories about his life in Pittsburgh, a city he loved and to whom he gave so much. For the first time in a long time he was able to relax, and he died looking into her eyes as she told the story of him getting into art school. Jay

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Mother's Day My uncle was diagnosed with cancer a year ago. Five weeks ago he moved to Hospice (the setting of the last story, "Parting Gift"), so he could spend the last few weeks of his life in peace and relative comfort. A little over two weeks ago I got a call from my mom telling me Uncle Jay was slipping and it wouldn't be much longer now. I booked a last minute flight, even though my mom

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Parting GiftYesterday we went to visit my uncle in hospice. I flew in with the girls a couple of days ago so I could spend some time with him before it was time to say goodbye. We had a nice afternoon watching the kids play, telling stories, and reminiscing about days gone by. The visit lasted a lot longer than I had planned for, and as the hours flew my boobs grew. It wasn’t until it was

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"Running Errand""Whatcha doing, Ella?" I asked as she whizzed by. "I's running errand!" It appeared running laps full speed around the downstairs with a purse around her arm equaled running errands to her. On her next lap around she grabbed my cell phone off of the table. "Okay, got to call someone while I'm at errand," she explained as she streaked around the corner. Having my cell phone

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Top 10 Gross Things My Baby Did Today, all having to do with bodily functions:10. Spit up while nursing, then kept nursing.9. Peed while I was changing her, then rolled around in it before I could get a new diaper on her.8. Pooped through her diaper... 7. ...through her onesie...6. ...through her sleeper...5. ...and onto the carpet.4. Stuck both of her feet and, somehow, her left arm in said

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