Saturday, November 14, 2009

You'd Better Check Yourself...

While meandering up and down the grocery aisles this morning, Jackson was swinging his legs from the buggy seat while I was reading the list and keeping a running inventory of our pantry in my mind.
We made a morning out of the outing. It can be quite an event.
While cruising the aisles, Jack and I discuss politics, fashion and whether or not we really need chocolate milk or Oreos. ("for grandad!" he said trying to convince me...)
During this aisle-13-small-talk, I will usually try to sneak in a quick kiss on his rosy cheek or tickle his neck just to keep things silly.
Today, I bent down and dropped a noisy kiss on his right cheek.

"No, mama!" he shouts. "Don't kiss me!"

My heart sank. Already? I've heard about the dreadful moment when your kid shies away from your public affection. But one always thinks: Not my child!

So I go in for the kill and plop another on his cheek.

"No, mama!" he rejects it again. "You don't kiss me!" he declares.

"Oh, I don't?" I ask.

"No, mama," he says. "I kiss YOU!"

"Oh!" I say. Delighted, I lean forward for my prize: a noisy wet one on my cheek.

It was such a pleasant morning. Our cheery errand-running was going smoothly.

So smoothly, I got greedy. I got brave and over confident.

And that's then I made the terrible decision to "self-check-out."

Yes, that line is always shorter than the single check out girl's line. Every time I think it will be faster, more efficient, and "hey-I-don't-really-have-that-many-groceries-anyway-right?" it never goes well. Even when Eric and I tag team.
But here I was alone with my sweet boy and only a few things.
Sure the majority of it was produce but ...
Ahhh! Produce in the self-check out! Ridiculous!
I had to look up, weigh, re-bag item, look up, count avocados, weigh ...
All while Jack is taking things out of the cart and putting them on the counter. (You'd be surprised at how far he can reach.)
So helpful ... except these were items we had already scanned.
It was so crazy that I missed the part where Jack tore into a bottle of Little Noses' saline and began sucking on it like it was an icy cold Colt 45.
The two women standing next in line were just staring at him - watching as he threw his head back and chugged like a frat boy.
I snatched his salty brew, tossed it in my purse and dialed poison control all while weighing an acorn squash.
We may or may not have forgotten to pay for the can of tuna that I found tucked in Jack's coat pocket ...

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

People of The Book

When a book conservator encounters a centuries-old Hebrew text, the Sarajevo Haggadah, she feels a “strange and powerful” sensation, something “between brushing a live wire and stroking the back of a newborn baby’s head.” It’s spring 1996 in Sarajevo, and Hanna has been called in to examine the book before it’s put on display.

Dancing between present day and years gone by, this book is not only filled with vivid descriptions and colorful language but is also laced with historical and cultural information that provides a solid connection between you and each time period.

With a writing style that traipses through time, one could get lost among the fact and fiction. But aside from a few meaningless sub-plots, the book refuses to let you go.

(actual page from the Sarajevo Haggadah that is referred to many times in the book)*

Lavish descriptions of ink colors, detailed fabric patterns and heart-breaking tales of families in danger, the book offers much range. Like the threads twisting into the ancient book's parchment, Geraldine Brooks' story telling weaves through the tale delicately holding the characters together.

The author has definitely done her research. The reader enters the world of book conservation, religious history and facts about the actual book's discovery. But Brooks' story telling makes the technical tidbits enjoyable drops of knowledge. As a researcher, some of my favorite passages include bits about how mere dust from a page can tell a story.

After reading this, I feel I might be able to apply for a job at the Smithsonian.

What did you think of the book?

*photo from

Thursday, November 5, 2009

I Was Holdin' My Motorcycle Shirt

Jackson was strolling up and down the hallway strumming his guitar absentmindedly when he spotted the outfit I had laid out for him for school the next day.
He was excited to see the black and white t-shirt* laid out on the the trunk. He snatched it up and carried it in to the hallway asking me:
"I wear this morrow?"
I said yes and I guess he was so thrilled he decided to immediately write a song about it.
Thus this bluesy tune ensued:

and this version:

Let's just say I caught many renditions on video.

*Please note there is no actual motorcycle on the shirt. In fact, it just says Old Navy.

Showtime - A Move Review in Three Sentences Or Less

The Bank Job

Based on a true story, which always makes a movie more interesting.*
You knew Jason Statham was going to have at least one ass-kicking scene.
I had no idea British parliament/royalty were so sexually deviant.

On a scale of 5 M&Ms we give this one 2.
A green one and a blue one.

*Once I heard a comedian say that the movie Transformers would be so much better if right before the beginning it said "based on a true story." I would have to agree.

Birthday Monkey