8 Ways To Tell If Perhaps You've Given Up On The Whole "Limit The Kids' TV" Thing.

It all looks so real! Almost like it's animated!

1) Your 2 year-old says "Vamanos!" as you leave the house. (Passersby commend you on your bilingual teachings, but you know that it's really all Dora's doing.)

2) You've actually referred to at least one of the Backyardigans as a jerk.

3) Everyone in your household knows that there are three separate Strawberry Shortcake series- the oldest of which is the one you yourself watched as a child. (And they also know about your very real fear of The Purple Pieman.)

4) Dreams have featured the Dinosaur Train. You've ridden on it in these dreams. And it was awesome.

5) You and your husband have debated the potential detrimental effect of Elmo's "Me Speak," Ming Ming the Wonder Pet's speech impediment, and Diego's predilection for shouting.

6) Whenever you break out the tools for a repair, at least one person shouts "Yes We Can!"

7) You find yourself choosing a new show at random- just to hear a different theme song, for the love of God.

8) And- most tellingly- when writing a list like this, you hear The Count's voice in your head.

(Eight! Eight parental fails! AH AH AH.)

Is This A KISSING book?

Next, I shall paint my sister.

It's totally almost Valentine's Day. And I have plans.

Huge ones.

For starters, Nora and I have already chosen pink and red outfits for ourselves. And for baby Susannah. And for P.J. (Sorry, P.J.)

We've lined up a few messy, glittery projects for the day- among them, a fabulous Martha Stewart craft that will either a) light up our home and 'hood with sparkly loveliness, or b) burn down the block.

I'm planning on pestering my best friends, sisters, and parents with badgerly texts of enduring love. They will reciprocate. Or I will be forced to use my phone to call. Or Skype. Or hit them with it at the next available juncture.

Breakfast and lunch will be eaten off of potentially non-food-safe decorative plates and platters adorned with hearts and cupids. Doilies- the ones not shredded by safety scissors- will most likely line the kitchen table, and holiday napkins will be utilized. (And if Nora decides to eat only one bite of each thing, I will not force the issue. Because on a day of Love, we all get to do what makes us happy. And if the crusts do not make you feel full of Love, then- by all means, Nora- do not eat the crusts.)

A Valentine's Day nap will be had. For it is a holiday, and I always nap on holidays. (Always.) And even if Nora and Zuzu aren't really feelin' this one, we shall nap. This differs only slightly from the Full Of Love rule mentioned just prior to this one. (Food is food, but sleep...? There are rules.)

There may or may not be an awesomely decadent dessert project in the works...which may or may not lose all of its Wow Factor due entirely to the two year-old sous chef leaving her own special li'l mark on the treat, on the counters, on the walls, and on her little sister. But I bet it'll still taste really good.

Dinner will be a ridiculously extravagant affair, naturally. What will she be preparing, you might ask? Is it her husband's favorite meal? Nope. Her favorite meal? Not so much. It is, in fact, the toddler's favorite meal; eggplant parmesan, extra parmesan. (Getting to wash the red sauce out of her hair that evening will just add to the day's festivities.)

And there are presents, obvie. Since neither girl (to the best of my knowledge) knows how to read/has internet access...I can spill the goods. An Angel Cake friend of Strawberry Shortcake's for Nora. (Since, every time she plays with her "Strawberry Girls," her sad refrain is: "I don't even have Angel Cake.") And for Susannah, a pink sock monkey. (By the time she reaches adulthood, she'll either have a deep and abiding affection for these sock monkeys...or a definite and very real fear.) And for P.J...

NICE TRY, P.J. You'll have to wait and see. (But hint: It's covered in glitter and fingerprints. Actually, that's not so much of a hint. Everything in the house is currently covered in glitter and fingerprints. It's one of the cats- surprise!)

But I do have a list of expectations for this bright n' shiny day. And it doesn't even include flowers. (Because P.J. brought me purple tulips yesterday. He knows that Holiday Flowers are way trumped by Any Ol' Day Flowers.) And it doesn't include couples massages or fancy dinners (because you cannot get fancier than our eggplant dinner- you cannot) or jewelry or even songs dedicated on the radio (a la Live 105.5. Anyone?)

I would like a Valentine from my husband. The kind where he's actually sealed the envelope. (He's notorious for not sealing the envelope, which comes off looking like it was just handed to him on the darned train. Invest the time! Seal the envelope!)

It would be great if we could watch one of the most romantic movies of all time. Here's the trifecta: The Princess Bride, The Thin Man, and So I Married An Axe Murderer. (As You Wish, William Powell, and Haggis? I'm swooning.)

Maybe a crossword puzzle in bed. Especially if I'm allowed to hold the pen, sparing me that sideways-head-cramping-my-shoulderblade thing that always happen when people share crosswords.

I live large, I know.

Wishing you a Valentine's Day of love and unironically played power ballads,
Keely

The Five Upsides Of Hoarding.

A shovel and a watch?! MY FAVORITES!

The whole Getting Rid Of Stuff [People Tell Me] I Don't Need project is still pokin' along. I have no idea why I thought it'd be completed in a night or a weekend or before Nora's presidential inauguration.

There is still a full filing cabinet of scannable...stuff.

And a room full of sortable...stuff.


And, arrogantly enough, a pile of stuff that I'm reserving for the neighborhood garage sale. That's right. I sure as heck don't want this junk...but I'm pretty sure you'd pay good money for it.

But aside from the vaguely nagging fears that I'll one day be buried alive in a pile of old Real Simples and boots that will never fit me (except that they WILL!), here are some upsides of hoarding that I didn't fully expect.

5. I found a full 3-ring binder of notes from a guy in high school that, up until this project began, I did not recollect dating. He was an absolutely appalling writer, but it was kinda sweet to read 'good luck' notes for various cross-country meets and 'can you believe that episode of Friends' missives. And he obviously must've meant something to me since I took the time to organize his notes chronologically and capture them for the next fifteen years in binder form. But then again, maybe not. I had an awful lot of free time on my hands back then.

4. My daughter plays with every single one of my trolls and My Little Ponies. And Cabbage Patch Kids. My porcelain dolls grace her bookshelf (and dresser and end table). My dollhouses are back in Pittsfield, MA, awaiting the correct transpo to the Midwest, much to the joy of my folks and chagrin of my husband. I love that Nora loves playing with my favorite childhood things. Even moreso, I love that my husband- just last night- correctly identified not only the pony named Posey, but also which gardening hat was hers.

3. I came upon an entire desk drawer filled with old day planners. Originally intending to pitch the whole lot, I enjoyed a few moments of mirth at what I used to believe was a Busy Day. (Um, two years ago.) And sure, while I threw out most of them, I ended up keeping pages worthy of framing and/or collaging. The 50s housewife artwork pages, not my daily schedule. No one cares what time I had a failed Budweiser audition. (10am.)

2. The shopping bag full of shells that I've collected from roughly 1989 'til now. The leftover ones, that is. (Surely you don't think my collection could be contained in one plastic bag, do you?) I rolled my eyes at my excessive saving and storing...until I remembered that I'd have three little girls at my house today who LOVE to glue things! Well, two of them do. One [mine] likes to poke at shells. But whatever. With this many aquatic remains, she can fling them at the wall for all I care. One hour of the day- scheduled.

1. As was just pointed out to me by my eight year-old pal, it's good to look back and get excited about stuff you loved and saved when you were little.

Especially when you're really, really old.