Write the Caption

I took this picture the second Jake got into the car after school today. This was the look he gave me in response to a question. See if you can guess my question and his answer:



1. Me: How was your first full day?
Jake: I had to sit in time out, I wasn't listening and I didn't get a sticker.

2. Me: So how was your first full day?
Jake: The best. Ever.

3. Me: Hi Jakey. I missed you today. Did you miss me on your first full day of kindergarten?
Jake: Are you kidding?

If you guessed #2, you are right! This is Jake after the best day of his life. I can only imagine his reaction when he makes a high school sports team or gets a part in a school play or goes to college or gets married.

By Definition

At 9:30 last night, after a long day and a longer week, Jake asked me to get him a new Pokemon game for his DS. Right then.

After I said no, with a mix of disbelief, anger and exhaustion, I told him we could possibly get a Pokemon game on Friday.

"First thing, OK? Before school."

"Jake, the store won't be open before school."

"Blast it! Why do they start school so early and why do they make all the kids go?"

Barbie Girl

So Abby got her first Barbie. It wasn't planned; she's really into unicorns these days (?) so after a particularly good and patient weekend I told her I would get her a unicorn. But once she rounded the Barbie aisle at the store, she was flabbergasted.

She was very deliberate, comparing the features of this Barbie to that Barbie. No, she didn't like the ballerina Barbie. Yes, she liked the Happy Birthday Barbie whose shoes and necklace lit up. (Ugh.) She loved Tiana from The Princess and the Frog ... until she saw Rapunzel, the Barbie from the upcoming movie Tangled. I don't know about every other little girl, but most of Barbie's appeal for me was her hair and Rapunzel has plenty of it. She even comes with extensions, for days when her floor-length hair is not enough.

Since it was her first Barbie, Abby didn't have any friends for Rapunzel (or Pretzel, as we call hair because Abby can't consistently say Rapunzel) so she made do with some stuffed animals, a Fisher Price horse and a bank/bust of Superman that belongs to the boys. After a day of watching Pretzel and Superman try to dance and flirt, I gave in and bought Beast (from Beauty and the Beast), the only prince I could find.

Abby and Pretzel immediately took to him.

"You want to come to my house for cookies. And then you can spend the night," Pretzel asked Beast, the minute she got him out of his box.

Come to think of it, I think that's how Bryon wooed me.

The Verdict

Jake suffers from what I call "workplace" syndrome. As an adult, you may have a really bad day at work, but most of us, MOST of us, grin and bear it or groan and bear it, and as the ubiquitous saying goes, we keep calm and carry on.

However, the minute we pull into the garage and drop our laptop bag on the kitchen counter we let our partner have it - you left your socks on the floor, you didn't take the garbage out, dinner's not ready, dinner's been ready, you forgot the dry cleaning. In other words, a day's worth of pent-up frustration, embarrassment, tedium and restraint are unloaded on the people who love you the most and deserve it the least.

Jake suffers from the juvenile form of workplace syndrome. And, bless my little pointed head, I had really forgotten this over the summer. But it took one day of school to remind me. Because seconds after I picked him up from his first day of kindergarten, he let me have it.

"You didn't come inside to get me!" (Actually, I did.)

"I'm starving and you wouldn't let me have lunch!" (It was noon and we were headed home for lunch.)

"I don't have ANY homework in my backpack!" (This is a problem? And it's my fault?)

And then I had the gall to take him to McDonald's and go through the drive-thru. Needless to say I haven't heard much about Jake's day. I'll treat him like a disgruntled spouse - I'll let him have his space and hopefully by bedtime he'll be ready to talk.

Then he'll get up tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ... and we'll do it all over again.

Away We Go

So ... back to school. Harried, sad, bittersweet, welcome, somewhat anti-climactic.




On one hand, we need the schedule, and I'm excited for what the school year will bring.



On the other hand, come back. Let's swim and sleep in and eat donuts and ice cream.

Gimme an A!

Abby takes a weekly dance class at her day care. But over the summer, boring old ballet was replaced by Hip Hop and Cheer Rock, which culminated in a pep rally this week - a pep rally that Abby referred to as the "pepperoni." (They do sound alike, especially if you mumble like I do or talk like a three-year-old.)

Anyway ... the pep rally. Each cheerleader had a spirit shirt and shorts, cheer socks, pom pons and matching hair bows. Thanks to Abby's new haircut a couple of weeks back, there is no place on her head with enough hair to hold a hair bow, but she donned the rest of the uniform, fluffed her pom pons and headed to the rally.

About one minute in she announced to the crowd she needed to pee. After returning several minutes later, she then needed to poop, so we missed most of the rally. She did "participate" in a couple of cheers and one "dance" to the Justin Bieber classic, Baby.

Snapped

For the past week or so Abby and I have been playing Puppy, a game in which she leads me around her room on my hands and knees (hard wood floors, I might add), forcing me to sleep in baskets, play fetch and get shots from the doctor.

Although I adore Abby and this game doesn't require much participation from me, I am sick to death of the game Puppy. That is probably why I started teasing her during tonight's game. Tickling, poking, getting out of my basket. Basically being a bad dog. And like most bullies I found her frustration entertaining.

Especially when she thrust her fists at her sides, stomped her foot and through clenched teeth told me, "Mom! You are tearing me apart!"

Puppy Love

When we left school last night Abby turned to her bestest friend Caleb and said, "Good night, handsome boy."

Phobi-AAAHHHH

So have I ever told the story about THE spider? The one that marked the exact moment I became an arachnophobe?

In short, I was about 10 years old, vacationing with my parents in Stone Mountain, Georgia. After using one of the public bathrooms I turned to flush the toilet and on the wall behind me, inches from my bare backside, was a spider the size of a dinner plate. (It gives me the willies to even write that.) Ever since that moment I have been afraid of spiders. Not irrationally afraid, just thoroughly creeped out. I think they're sneaky. And knuckly and hairy, with those pokey pincers. Eeek.

Other than that fateful day, I can't say I've had other unfortunate run ins with spiders. Once in college I lived in an apartment with three friends and an unwelcome number of brown recluse spiders. They're sneaky and knuckly AND poisonous. But I don't like to harm or kill them either; I believe in karma, and I don't want to spend my afterlife taunted by oversized, vengeful spiders.

Fast forward to present day. One day this week when I got the mail, a quarter-sized spider repelled out of the mailbox. Thank God I didn't touch it, but its unexpected presence made me jump and squeal.

Too bad I didn't remember the little bugger when I got the mail the next day, in front of Bryon and the kids. As I walked back in the house and handed the pile of mail to Bryon, I felt something wispy and webby on the back of my neck, and I immediately knew it was that damn spider. How it got from my hand to neck so fast I don't know. See? ... Sneaky.

Now the kids have seen me upset - out of frustration or impatience, for example. But I'm not sure they have ever seen the kind of double-time, hot foot, ants-in-my-pants dance I did until I was sure that spider was gone. And even then the writhing and twisting and swatting didn't stop for a couple of minutes. Then I needed a shower.

But Bryon the big weenie didn't want to touch it either so it's still in the house. No doubt watching me and laughing and plotting the right time to creep across my arm or my bare foot or surprise me in a cabinet.

I think I need another shower.

Nuptials

We had our own celebrity wedding this weekend. Abby married Clancy the bear.



The bride wore Fisher Price. Several luminaries were present, including Curious George, Dora the Explorer, Elmo, Winnie the Pooh and Scooby-Doo.



The merriment was short lived, however, when the wedding was crashed by Big Brother Jake and Tag the Dog.