Speaking of baby clothes, I saw this shirt at the Baby Boom show last week featuring the famous quote from Dirty Dancing, and I really, really wanted one for the Wee One. Sadly, I could not justify spending $20 on a onesie that she would probably wear three times before growing out of it, at which point, it would be too stained with drool and spit-up for any other baby to use it. Sigh.

In other news, we’re off this morning to visit the folks in Southern Ontario. It’ll probably be at least a seven or eight hour drive with the baby. Plus, Sir Monkeypants is sick, and since my folks have DIAL UP (dinosaurs!), there will be no chance for blogging or surfing.

But there WILL be apple pie. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

My Mommy friends and I love to reminisce about those halcyon days when we only had one little baby to look after. At the time, of course, it seemed like a bomb had gone off in our house and were struggling to survive and rebuild. But looking back, we can see how laughably easy it was to care for just one kid. During the four or five naps they took each day, we’d have plenty of time to check our email or call our mothers or get caught up on last night’s episode of Buffy. Once the baby woke up, a quick feed and diaper change were all that we needed to dash off to meet up with a friend for a coffee, or hit Toddler Swim at the pool, or even take in a movie at the Mommy And Me film events. Those were the days, my friend.

One big indulgence I had in those days was that I rocked Captain Jelly Belly to sleep for all his naps. And when I say, “to sleep,” I mean totally zoned out, mouth gaping open, arms and legs like rubber, asleep. That took a really, really long time, but I just couldn’t stand to hear him cry or fuss. Sometimes when he was have especial trouble settling down, I’d even hold him for the entire duration of his nap. Let me tell you, spending a couple of hours trapped and mute under a sleeping baby is just NOT an option when you have some other preschoolers to take care of. Sorry, Gal Smiley and Wee One!

All those hours spent sitting in my nursing chair, trying not to disturb the Captain’s catnaps, were put to pretty good use; I soon learned how to read with just one hand. At the time I had an unbelievable five magazine subscriptions — two weeklies and three monthlies — and I was able to keep on top of all of them. And when I ran out of magazines — impossibly, this happened every week — I went to the library and took out novel after novel. I’m so good at turning pages silently, while supporting the weight of the book at the same time, that I wish it were an Olympic sport. I’m that good.

Needless to say, most of the reading I’m doing these days involves Dora The Explorer or Curious George. The pile of novels on my bedside table is getting taller and taller. There’s a big stack of magazines on the corner of the desk. I sometimes squeeze in a little Entertainment Weekly while I’m cooking dinner, and if I’m feeling really energetic, I get a chance to read a few pages of a book in the 15 minutes between the end of Prison Break and flopping into bed. My one-handed reading skills are being wasted, wasted I tell you! Maybe I’ll find a way to add it into the circus act the kids and I are working on. One-handed reading! You’d pay to see it! Wouldn’t you?

Gal Smiley and Sir Monkeypants at dinner last night; Gal is finished eating, but is still working on his food.

GS: Let’s play hide and seek!
SM: Gal, I’m still eating.
GS: I’ll go hide! You count!
SM: Okay, you go “hide.” One, two… [trails off to take a bite]
GS [from the playroom]: THREE!
SM: Three…
GS: FOUR!
SM: Four…
GS: Now come and find me in the playroom!

Too cute to be denied — his dinner got cold.

I’ve got my profile up at NaBloPoMo. There’s no going back now! Turns out that the prizes are available to anyone, internationally, not just Americans. Rockin’ awesome, dude!

There’s a pic of me on my profile page, exciting news, I know, for those who only know me through LJ. The baby in the picture is Gal Smiley, not the Wee One — the photo is a couple of years old, but sadly, my hair and glasses are exactly the same, so you’d have no trouble recognizing me. Time for a makeover, I guess!

This afternoon I was watching Family Feud on TV while packing for our trip to southern Ontario this weekend. I love to watch game shows and I’m usually pretty good at them, but Family Feud is my Achilles heel. I think it’s because there are no right answers on that show — no one and only thing to know, and know absolutely. I love shows like that, because I can show off all the useless crap I have rattling around in my head, and learn new useless crap to show off at a later date. All I’ve learned from Family Feud is that I am really, really out of touch with the American public.

Take today’s show, for example. Question: Name something that splits. Me: peas, sunflower seeds, peanut shells, hair, spouses. All, I think, excellent answers, none of which made the survey. The number one answer? “Your pants.” No doubt with someone standing nearby saying, “Ha ha!” and pointing in a mocking kind of way.

Here’s another. Question: Name something that a woman wants that starts with the letter B. I thought the obvious number one answer, based on pop culture stereotypes, was “baby,” followed closely by “boyfriend.” They were answers 2 and 3, but no one who was actually playing the game guessed them. The number one answer? “Big boobs/Boob job.” I have to admit, when the player in question suggested it as an answer, I thought she was crazy. No way would “big boobs” make the survey at all, let alone in the top position! Some other answers that made the survey — that I never would have come up with in a million years — were “Bra” (??), “Bracelet,” and “Beauty.” Someone even guessed “BMW.” What about brains? Bliss? Brotherhood? Banana splits? Okay, someone may have actually guessed that last one.

I don’t often think that Canada is too different than America. And maybe the survey, in Canada, would have gone the same way. But I think I can safely say that I am not your average American. Certainly not.

Screw it, I’m keeping turtle_head, unless some fabulous inspiration hits me from the sky. I’m heading over to NaBloPoMo to register right now — let them think what they may. Hell, maybe I’ll even get a few new readers, crazy people with an unhealthy interest in poop. If you’re here looking for poop, then welcome, crazy person!

On a side note, my search for a new ID led me to read many other blogs, the vast majority of them containing less than five posts from more than four years ago. I now realize that I’ve been really spoiled by exposure to the people who are on my friends page — intelligent, witty, and interesting people who know how to tell a good story and how to spell. Here’s a typical post from my recent surfing:

Oh my god, i’m so sorry i haven’t posted here in so long! I’ve got too much homework tomorrow; procrastination has taken over my soul. Wow. The other day (tuesday)I had just looked at the calender for that day, and then thought it was wednesday for some reason. I can’t top yauning for some uknown reason. It’s only 5 past 9, whats going on! Argh!! I think an early night is required. Also I found out my brother is reading this blog and YOU SUCK, but I am having the last laff because I stole his Cold Play CD, ha ha! Tomorrow i am going to a big party at JK’s house and it is going to be grate, I hope that SM is there! More soon, I promise!

You don’t know if I copied that from somewhere, or just made it up, do you?

I’m going to have a t-shirt made for the Wee One that says, “I’d rather be nursing.” Sheesh!

Yesterday the whole family went shopping at Bayshore Mall. They have a new play area that has a climbing thing and whole bunch of slides. So now, when we go to the mall, the kids do their circuit — Food Court, Train Store, Buzz Lightyear Store, and Slides — while Sir Monkeypants and I take turns shepherding the kids around and taking time to shop. When we need a second opinion about something, the whole clan converges on a store before heading off again to our various age-specific tasks.

Yesterday when we reached the slides, I took a turn watching the kids. And I saw something amazing happen. Captain Jelly Belly made a friend!

She was a little girl exactly his age and size, the only other one there yesterday who was in kindergarten. She was very outgoing and once she asked the Captain his name, and confirmed he was in kindergarten too, they were buddies. They climbed together and went down the slides together. Then she suggested a game of hide and seek, which is the Captain’s absolute favourite, and they had a great time.

Once, when she couldn’t find the well-hidden Captain, she asked her dad, “Where’s that boy? The one who is my friend?”

Oh man, was I overjoyed.

We let them stay extra long at the slides so that the Captain could get the most out of his positive social experience. When it was finally time to go home, I felt kind of awkward — I’d have loved to get the girl’s name and maybe arrange a future playdate, but I worried that the magic would be missing in a context where the Captain wasn’t the only other kid around, or where they found out that she doesn’t like cars and he doesn’t like Barbies. So I let it pass. But still! The joy of knowing that, when approached by a nice kid, he can make a new friend, and have a great time!

Aw, Captain, you rock.

Okay, further LJ research has revealed that the following IDs are available:

• kutchkutch — this is what we call “being whiny” at our house
• cindersandashes — what the Thomas trains say when they want to swear, as in, “I’m out of water! Cinders and ashes!”
• bittermaker — this is my poker nickname
• canadiantire — surprisingly, not gone
• canadiantired — clever!
• mothersuperior
• happyhour
• backyardbliss — I like this one, but it is too close to another favourite blog of mine, Suburban Bliss
• neckofthewoods
• stompingground
• backforty
• birthdaycake
• chattycathy

Unfortunately, all of these are already gone:

• satisfied — name of my personal theme song
• motherload — thought of this clever one, but it is gone
• happymedium — I loved this one, but gone
• hodgepodge — what calls it when we’re having a mishmash of food for dinner
• happygolucky — another one I loved, but gone
• cantcomplain — surprisingly, gone
• tickledpink
• snowbelly — but I can have snow_belly
• devilmaycare
• lackidaisical — but I can have ‘s clever twist, laxidaisical
• takethecake and takesthecake

I’ll keep looking. In the meantime, vote on the possibilities!

Dear Lady At The Mall:

I saw you today in the food court around 11:30am. You were with your young son — I’d guess around 2 years old — and man, was he wailing. Not the crying of a kid who is trying to get you to buy him another train, or who is just bored, but the outraged shrieks of a kid who is really and truly MAD, who cannot be pacified, oh no, not even with french fries. You were carrying him under your arm like a sack of potatoes and were waiting for the elevator to come and, no doubt, take you to your parking level.

I’m sure you felt like everyone was staring at you, thinking that you were a terrible mother and your kid some kind of lunatic. But really, all you were getting were sympathetic looks from other parents, like me. We’ve all been there — pushed our kid just that much too far past their limit of tiredness and hunger, and been greeted with a total nuclear meltdown. Sometimes it’s not even something you could have remotely predicted. It just happens.

I felt your pain, and if there was anything I could have done to give you a hand, I would have. My kids have screamed in public, had the breakdown, the whole bit. Hoisting your kid under your arm and getting him out of there, after the talk-down limit was passed, was definitely what I would have done. It’s hard being a mom, and we’re with you in spirit.

Love, TurtleHead