A Full Fridge and A Great Shoe

Two things I love: a full fridge and a great shoe. The former is really what the blog was once all about: a physical manifestation of caring for my family.  Of being prepared.  Of thinking ahead.  Of getting stocked with the nourishing things they like to eat, feeling ready to pack the lunches make the dinners carry the snacks.  Seriously, nothing stresses me out like a Friday Morning Fridge, with its remnants of the week's leftovers and just the rinds of the parmesan cheese and the lonely yogurt that is no one's favorite flavor and Oh my God what am I going to feed these people today?? ... [READ MORE]

How Not to Talk to your Children About Disaster

LittleMan went into a disaster downward spiral the other night at dinner.  I honestly cannot tell you the genesis of the conversation but it probably went something along the lines of: Me: "Gosh, today was rainy and windy, but we needed it." LittleMan: "You know, rain and wind are part of hurricanes.  And hurricanes happen when it's warm, like in Magic Schoolbus." Me: "It was warm last week, but it never gets warm enough for a hurricane here." LittleMan: "But what if it does?" Me: "It won't.  We don't have hurricanes here." LittleMan: "What do we have?" Me: "Well, we have ... [READ MORE]

And…LICE

Of all the things that have happened in the past seven years, I can honestly say that the lice ranks in the Top Three events that really sent me around the twist.  Like, the lice almost did me in. It wasn't me that got the lice (thank goodness, which I know isn't totally altruistic but...thank goodness).  It was poor Babygirl, who took those bugs LIKE A CHAMP.  And though I did not get the lice (thank goodness - oh, God, I said it again), I did sit by Babygirl for the entire week she was getting treated for the lice at the Lice-Infested-Family Extortion Company.  (Also known as Hair ... [READ MORE]

Safe House

It had been a long afternoon, back in early July. Time-outs.  Sass.  Tongue-sticking-out attitude.  One of those afternoons where you hear yourself getting more and more shrill as you try to stem the tide of Bad Behavior that seems -- mystifyingly -- to be sweeping your little family away. Finally, we broke.  After a long dinner of stand-offs, LittleMan threw his napkin in my face and clambered out of his seat.  I grabbed his arm. "That burger was disgusting," he muttered, and attempted to turn away.  I held fast. "What is going on?  What is this?"  I snapped.  I used the napkin to ... [READ MORE]

Sleepwalker

I took a vacation with the kids for a week this summer and it was wonderful but...touch-and-go. Not because of the sibling squabbling or the lack of personal space (I might have accidentally stepped on Babygirl three times in one day when she was following me around looking for some ATTENTION!).  Certainly not because of the ice cream afternoons and the beach battles and the fact that I actually let them spray me with the water guns for once.  Not because of the Hot Wheels bonus on every visit to the grocery store or Mommy's F---it burgers-every-day approach to meals. Seriously, for all ... [READ MORE]

Swim School Mondays

Five years ago, on the Fourth of July when LittleMan was just shy of two years old, we attended a lovely baby shower in the guise of a backyard barbecue at a home with a big old pool out back.  I don't remember much about the party, though, because I spent the entire day in abject terror that if I took my eyes off LittleMan for even one second he would DROWN. My fear was not entirely misplaced.  LittleMan was chasing around a soccer ball at one point, and where did that soccer ball wind up?  IN THE POOL, with LittleMan teetering on the edge in pursuit.  There were some fascinating big kids ... [READ MORE]

Summer Coming

Our closest neighbors are a colony of wild parrots.  Actually, the city is dotted with several of these colonies -- yet one more point to add to the quirky, rebellious urbanity that is San Francisco.  Only here would thousands of tropical birds mate and multiply and stake their claim on a city park.  I can imagine the initial turf war between the parrots and the pigeons, these flamboyantly feathered friends dropping in on their drab, dirty cousins and declaring: This is San Francisco, bitches.  Step aside.   The parrots hunt -- as parrots do, I suppose -- at dawn and at dusk: rising like a ... [READ MORE]