Charlie's 529 Plan

This is currently our only means of saving for Charlie's college education. I would guess that we contribute about 35 cents per night. At this rate, 35 cents x 365 days/yr x 16 years, we will have roughly $2,044 saved towards Charlie's education when he turns eighteen. The average cost of a 4 year education at a public university in that year is estimated to be $260,000. I am thinking we are going to fall slightly short of the mark.

How Charlie Goes Down The Slide

To The Movies!

This afternoon we braved uncharted territory: We took Charlie to see his first movie, a matinee showing of Kung Fu Panda. I had dismal expectations -- I did not think it was unreallistic that I would spend half the movie chasing Charlie around the lobby, the price of admission down the drain.

But for once, I was in for a very pleasant surprise: Charlie sat through the entire movie with a bag of popcorn between his legs while skillfully managing his Sierra Mist in and out of the cup holder, completely enthralled.

This opens up whole new worlds! We can go to the movies again! We can see "Ice Age 3!" The new Madagascar movie! Okay yeah so maybe we will still need to get a babysitter and see a grown up movie every once in a while. Discussing the plot nuances of Kung Fu Panda did get us very far on the car ride home.

My Son the Grown Up

This morning we had a meeting with our financial planner. When we arrived, in an attempt to instill good manners as usual, I said to Charlie: "Charlie, say hi to Ed."
Charlie strode over with his hand outstretched, grasped Ed's hand and shook it. "Hi Egg!"
Oh, my little boy is growing up so fast!

How I Just Spent The Last Hour

I just spent the last hour cleaning out my yahoo inbox. It might have been more than an hour. I have been pestered, you see, by this annoying phantom email that shows up as unread whenever I log on to my account. This has happened before -- some spam email turns up that is lost in the bowels of my account. Always, before I have been able to use the 'search' option, search unread messages, and delete the offending email. Not in this case. My account, you see, has apparently gotten too large to search. This email has been plaguing me for months, maybe more. I have made half-hearted attempts to search for it in the past, always to no avail. Tonight I finally decided I had to take drastic measures and purge my account to get rid of it. Which I unfortunately had to do one page at a time because I am too dumb to figure out how to delete my entire inbox, if yahoo allows such a thing.

8,000+ emails.

Some of which dated back to 2001.

I stopped deleting emails as a matter of course roundabout 2004.

It was a loooooong endeavor. Purchase confirmations. Travel itineraries. Pregnancy bulletins. God damn I have bought a lot of things online over the past few years. A bazillion emails from Mandy, mom, Mike. (Why does Mike email me so much? He lives with me.)

And do you know where I finally found the offending email?

It was the very last f*cking one.

Yes, go ahead, laugh. I dare you.

Maybe Just Maybe...

I can stop calling Charlie "Charlie Manson" (or, alternatively, "Damien") now! In the past 3 weeks he has only bitten at daycare.... drumroll please.... ONCE!!! This may or may not be due to the fact that a) they watch him like a hawk now and b) his favorite victim was moved not-so-coincidentally to another classroom.

One Of Those Nights

Charlie is having one of those nights. You know, one of those nights where he is just not falling asleep and I am in there every 5 minutes fielding requests:

"Mama -- blanket!!" This means that the blanket he uses for a pillow has a minute drool stain on it or some such and must be rearranged in such a way that the offending two tufts of fiber are nowhere near Charlie's cheek or any other body part.

"Mama -- poops!!" No honey, you do not have a poopy diaper. Mommy can smell your poopy diapers from a mile away.

"Mama -- diaper!!" The poopy diaper has failed and a vain attempt ensues to convince me that there is something else fundamentally wrong with his diaper that requires changing.

"Mama -- water!!" A request to top off his nighttime sippy cup.

And the latest (presumably he has run out of all other options):

"Mama -- kiss feet!!"

Go to sleep honey... please....

New England Aquarium Visit

We took Charlie to the New England Aquarium for the first time today. I didn't take very many pictures because I soon realized they were all going to look like this:



He loved the penguin exhibit, and the sharks. He hated the jellyfish ("Yucky! Yucky jellies! All done!") That's okay bud, they gross me out too.

A Day Late And A Dollar Short

Blame the stomach bug that is still hanging on, but yesterday was our 5th wedding anniversary. Belatedly, here is a pic of then:




And Now:

Home Sick With A Sick Two Year Old

This is not ever a good combination. In fact, it is a pretty dreadful one.

It started last night at 4am when I was lying awake feeling extremely queasy and sorry for myself.

At 4:45am Charlie threw up. Figures, the kid goes and steals my thunder, I think, as a day curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself dissolves before my eyes. Maybe it was a fluke, I think hopefully, and he will be fine to go to daycare in a couple hours,

5:16am: Charlie pukes again.

The rest of the day goes something like this:

10:06am: "Mama -- get uuup...." We are lying in front of the tv watching Dinosaurs. Well, that is what I wished we were doing.
"Mama's sick honey; mama can't get up."
10:07am: "Mama -- play cars!"
"Okay bud..." I drag myself across the floor as waves of nausea roll over me, and lie down in front of his hotwheels. "Okay let's play cars..."
10:09am: "Mama -- get uup.... Play water! Play water outside..."

Let's just say it was a very looog morning...

A Glimpse Into My Neurotic Mind

Charlie had his initial intake before being evaluated for Early Intervention services today. (Why you ask? Because he is biting at daycare and I need to pretend that I am concerned so therefore must have him evaluated for a speech delay that he doesn't have. But that is not the subject of this post.)

10 minutes before the social worker was to show up at the house I am pacing the floor. There's a *social worker* coming to the house I am thinking, and I didn't even clean the bathroom -- what if she has to pee? Worse, the age old problem -- there is a picture of a naked woman and a swan in my livingroom -- what if she notices it? Should I take it down? Should I apologize for it? (I have done that before: "Umm, sorry about the picture... my great uncle was... uhh... an artist..." No, I decide. I will not call attention to it. I will whisk her past it and we will sit at the kitchen table. I pace into the kitchen. Charlie is sitting at the kitchen table stuffing meat sticks into his mouth. For those of you who do not know, a meat stick is basically catfood pressed into a stick. It looks like catfood, it smells like catfood. It probably tastes like catfood, although I have not been brave enough to try one. I panic. Charlie cannot be eating catfood when the social worker gets here. I whisk the meat sticks away and give him cut up grapes instead. Yes, grapes are acceptable.

Potty Training

We are entering uncharted two year-old territory this summer: potty training. I am proud to say that Charlie is two for two on attempts to pee in the potty this week! However, it was brought to my attention by a well meaning co-worker that I am teaching Charlie that he needs to be naked in order to use the potty.

You see, we started potty training before his tubby so naturally, he is well, naked. Now when he sits on the potty he will not do his business until all articles of clothing have been removed: "Mama -- sock!" (Sticking out foot so the offending sock can be removed.)

"You realize he will be seven and stripping off all his clothes to go to the bathroom," my co-worker helpfully pointed out this afternoon.

Well... we'll cross that bridge when we come to it...

Charlie's Summer Reading List

This afternoon when I came home from work there was a package from Amazon.com on the doorstep. Since Mike had told me he had ordered some books for himself and for Charlie, I wasn't surprised. I opened up the box and flipped through the books -- of six books, there was only one children's book. Since I was sure Mike had mentioned that he had bought several books for Charlie, I asked him when he called later on to say he was on his way home.

"Yeah there should be two books in there for him," he confirms.

I start reading off the titles when he interrupts me: "No, that one isn't for me, it's for Charlie."

The Science of Hitting by Ted Williams.

My kid has his work cut out for him this summer.

Top 3 Ways to Spot A Not Kid-Friendly Restaurant

3. They pointedly inform you they do not have a kids' menu when you call to make the reservation.
2. They pointedly inform you they do not have high chairs or booster seats when you call to make the reservation.
And the number one way to spot a Not Kid Friendy restaurant is.... (this is where the drumroll goes)
1. When you call for a six o'clock reservation and mention the presence of a two year old, they ask you if you can come at 5 o'clock instead.

Do you think we took the multiple hints when going out to dinner with my parents in Chatham last night? Well, let's just say I spent a painful hour and a half trying to keep Charlie's bottom on the seat and feet off the table in said boosterless-and-high chair-less restaurant, trying to keep his little hands out of the hurricane lamp on the table ("Oooh -- hot!"), trying to keep any number of assorted wine glasses, bottles of olive oil, and copious amounts of silverware out of little hands, not to mention trying to cut into my prosciutto and gorgozola wrapped grilled artichoke hearts without elbowing Charlie in the head as he sat next to me in our "cozy" booth.

Next time I vote for TGI Fridays, please!

Why Blog? -- Inaugural Post

So why start a blog? After all, I have managed to get through 32 years of life, not to mention five years of married life and two years of motherhood without one. I didn't *think* anything was missing from my life. But I was very wrong, this according to my sister.

Mandy: "I need you to start a blog."
Me: "Why?"
Mandy: "So I can put a link to it on my blog."
Me: "I don't know how to blog, I am not computer literate -- do you know how long it took me to even hook up my laptop with wireless internet? It took six mnths!"
Mandy: "Please! It's easy. And then you don't have to call me anymore; you can just blog about your day and I'll read it."
Me: "Gee thanks."
Mandy: "I didn't mean it like that! Please!"
Me: "I don't know what to call it."
Mandy: "If I think up a name for it will you do one?"
Me: "Fine."

Fine. Here it is -- enjoy!