Back for the fifth year in a row...

Valentine Airplanes!
All three of my kids have done these easy valentines for their classes over the years. And they keep showing up on their must-do lists for Valentines celebrations...I try to introduce other things but my three will hear none of it. All you need for each plane is a roll of smarties, a stick of gum, two lifesavers, and a rubber band. Easy breezy.

I totally know how she feels

I empathize with Ms. PacMan. Here's why: I have three children and normally I truly enjoy being with them, even when I'm treated like their personal concierge or when I can't do anything right ( I unforgivably cut the sandwich in the wrong direction or when L reminds me I can't seem to remember two things) . But there are times, people. Times. I just need a few minutes. Alone. Bathroom time doesn't count. And these are the times when I seem to be sought out with extraordinary zeal. They seem to have a "Mom-unavailability-radar" that activates as soon as I open a book or start an e-mail. So you'll understand why I love this video.

All I can say is, you can run but you can't hide. Eventually they find you.

Just in case...

Over Thanksgiving, Greg's dad pulled him aside to tell him where all their important documents are: wills, account information, medical information, etc. Just in case. Kind of a sobering conversation, really, but his dad felt strongly that he should know where all that mysterious stuff was, just in case. Fast forward a few months to this conversation:
Me: Greg?
G: Yeah?
M: I feel like I need to tell you something.
G: ...okay....
M: Well, I know this is hard to talk about, but you know how your dad had that talk with you over Thanksgiving?
G: Uh-huh...(quizzical look, like 'where are you going with this?')
M: I really think I should show you where the bathroom cleaning supplies are. You know, just in case anything ever happens to me.

I think he really appreciated the information, don't you?

Solo cinema

It's not a secret that I love movies. Love watching them but also love the big screen cinema experience. A bunch of strangers in a room going through the same story and emotions at the same time...I. love. it. With the added bliss of popcorn and junior mints, too. Ever since my favorite movie friend moved away, I've even been indulging in a little mid-day cinema therapy by myself now and then.

At first it felt kind of strange to park in the lot and walk up to the box office alone: "One ticket for...." (And the first time it actually required a pep talk phone call from my brother. I called to see if I was crazy. He said no, so I went.) But I love it...it feels decadent and indulgent which is just what I need now and then! I always come home feeling recharged and alive, marveling and envious at the creativity and artistry that is cinema (usually--not always so creative or artistic--there are clunkers).

One snowy afternoon in Harvard Square, I sat in the semi-darkened theater with 6 strangers--all of us solo. Something happened to the projector so we sat there for about 15 minutes, chatting and (since most of them were retirees) reminiscing about those classic grand cinema theaters and memories of bygone movie prices. One guy remembered that his mom would get a plate or a dish each time she came to the movies as some kind of promotion. Sometimes if she didn't like the movie, she would send him to pay the 5 cent admission and buy the dish since it was such a good deal.

It's still a good deal for me...much cheaper than therapy or other expensive habits. Just a little movie outing now and then...is it too much to ask? Guilt free?

S came home from school yesterday and the first thing he said was "I brought home a recipe for you!" Now it's not everyday that my third grader contributes culinary suggestions--especially not from school--so I was very interested what recipe he would produce. Chicken in a basket (the mysterious entry on this week's school lunch menu)? Tater Tots? Overcooked green beans? Nope. Brownies. This was the recipe:

That's right: "Delcious Brownies Ghirardelli Chocolate Triple Chocolate Brownies." So apparently (and I'm just imagining here) someone in his class brought brownies and S, who won't ask anyone at school where the lost and found is so he can find his missing winter coat, thought "I've got to get me some of that." So he asked "what kind of yummy brownie is that and can I teach my mom how to make them?" and then he took the box (how else would he get "Ghirardelli" right?) and painstakingly wrote out the "recipe" in his best cursive (serious business deserves serious penmanship). Then he folded the paper four times, put it in his front jeans pocket and carried it with him all day. I picture him patting it every once in a while, just to make sure the precious document was still in tact. All so I could make him some chocolate goodness. That's my boy.