Dear Michael Vick: You're On The Clock!

Since moving to the Philadelphia area some ten years ago, we've taken to our adopted locale as many a native might: we become immediately outraged at the slightest, um, slight to our fair city, we belligerantly defend her crime, her overpriced cheesesteaks, her (big finger quotes here) "public transportation," and her diversity to the point of irrationality. Why? Because Philadelphia truly is the City of Brotherly (and Sisterly) Love, embracing all ethnicities and lifestyles. She may be on a down-cycle, but that only means the upswing is around the corner.

Now that we've spent our cliché quota.......

Michael Vick has signed a two year contract with the Philadelphia Eagles. Their plan is so simple, it's genius: re-train Vick as the QB he coulda been. If McNabb gets injured, Vick's your starter. If the Iggles make the Superbowl and win, McNabb will probably retire, and Vick is your starter. If they do well and McNabb doesn't retire but Vick proves his worth, trade Vick for beau coup de picks and players. Win-win for everyone.

It's van Gogh in it's simplicity, depth and foresight.

Dear Michael:
You said all the right stuff at your press conference today. Let's see if you can walk the walk... you are ON the CLOCK!

CC to Donovan: Please keep your boy off South Street, and on Straight & Narrow Highway. Coach Dungy can't be everywhere at once, you know.

(and you thought I was fresh outta clichés? I'm just gettin warmed up!)

How long til someone dusts off Gretsky and throws some Phlyers pads on him?

You Know Your Kids Pay Attention When...

So the other day, my oldest son, Vin (5) and I have this conversation.

Vin: Why is your face all scrunched up, Mommy?
Me: I'm trying to think of the title of a book I read a long time ago.
Vin: Was it a big book?
Me: No, it was kinda small.
Vin: Is it on our shelf?
Me: No, I gave it away. I'd like to read it again from the library, but I can't remember the name of it.
Vin: Was it about VAMPIRES? You read a lot of books about VAMPIRES!



Tee hee hee. Well, yeah, maybe I do. *blush* I'm a Twilight Mom. And a Sookie Mom. And an Anita Blake Mom. I'm an Undead and Un______ Mom. I was an Interviewee With the Vampire before I was a Mom.

I have done my level best to instill a love of reading in Vin by setting a good example. Perhaps it's time to set an example of diversity in taste? Time to demonstrate that new genres can be exciting and thrilling, even if you do leave behind your comfy little niche (however momentarily)? I can't have him watching me and then deciding he only wants to read Nate the Great-style mysteries (well-written and intriguing as they might be, even for a child's series!) forever and ever.



Earlier this summer I got myself hooked (and by "hooked," I mean "crack-addicted") to a serial killer series by Tim Dorsey.



I'm still making my way through that set. Between Serge and Anita, I just don't have room in my life for another character. My heart is full. And while I anxiously await the next installment of Sookie and Betsy, I'm secretly relieved to be able to concentrate on just two of my favorite fictional people instead of four!

Of course, you know the millisecond a sequel comes out for Breaking Dawn, I'll have that baby pre-ordered faster than you say FANG.



P.S., I did finally remember the title of that book: Since the Layoffs, by Iain Levison. Fantastic novel about........ you guessed it......... a murderer. Happy Weekend!

To Be Invented:

Note to self: Do what you love. Get someone else to do the other stuff.

To do:

1. Be a mommy.
2. Read
3. Watch that diet
4. Find some more movement
5. Learn about what's going on in the world
6. Con Charles into a 3rd kiddo
   

To get someone else to do:

1. Invent self-folding laundry
2. Invent self-unloading dishwasher
3. Invent self-cleaning bathrooms
4. Invent a way to herd the bugs out of my house so that I don't have to

• a) smash them
• b) squash them
• c) crunch them
• d) get stung/bitten while attempting a-c.

Cardboard? Noooo... Delicious? Yesssssss!

Surely you've seen him. The handsome actor of questionable Asian descent (immediately and affectionately deemed a "cousin" by our crack in-house staff of lay-genealogists) has become an ubiquitous symbol of friendly, gentle bowel rehab, an anti-anal-retentive guru for the uptight, pent-up white bread American.

A group to which I am a card-carrying member.

Ajay Mehta is even less threatening than Jamie Lee Curtis with her fancy yogurt, and THAT is saying something. (Although that whole Halloween history works against her just a wee bit IMHO.)

The fact that Mr. Mehta (an Indian, according to the all-knowing Wiki folks) works on a marketing campaign for something inherently designed to make you feel like he sounds..... chillaxed, Calgon-ed away, and most importantly, REGULAR, says a little something about his home culture.

Indians can poop like there is NO tomorrow. I think it's a genetic gift. A gift akin to, say, flying. Or becoming invisible at-will. Or ESP. I should know, because I'm married to a guy who never lets a cross-Atlantic flight stop him up, never has to "run home to let out the dog," and never gets that "not so fresh" feeling that often accompanies a few days of digestive immobility.

I believe it to be nature, rather than nurture that accommodates him so happily. Even on an American diet, he has remained more regular than Old Faithful. His children have NEVER had to eat a "fiber cookie," never had a haemorrhoid, rarely even have a "push face" - you know, the one that is so endearing to see on a toddler? The only way you know they're working hard?

While this genetic superpower obviously has its upside: schedule-ability, resultant easy-going attitudes; it also has a decidedly negative point: MY GAWD, THE SMELL.

I can lysol the bejeezus out of my bathrooms, I can change the diaper pail 3X daily, but good gravy you can tell this house is filled to the brim with MEN.

Very happy, relaxed, Buddha-like men, who never met a potty they didn't give a test-run. And by (big finger quotes here) "test-run," I mean Gone in 60 Seconds/Fast&Furious/RUSH HOUR - style rehearsals.

Note to self: check DVR for F&F reruns.....



I, otoh, being that card-carrying victim of white bread dietary obstruction, luuuuurve me some Fiber One in any/all carnations. My only issue is this: like the tater chips which by DESIGN necessitate the need for F1 in the first place...

Once I pop, I can't stop. Muffins, pancakes, bars, oh my.......

'S'cuse me, I have to go let the dog out.

Duh, howzabout a Proper Title?

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We are opening for business on August 24. We are JAZZED!






Really, the whole mess only cost about $50 and change. The Dollar Tree had all the posters, and I scored a 3'X4' dry erase board from Board Dudes via Amazon.

We'll be doing music, language arts, math, science, and PE daily; art will be Monday, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Spanish will be incorporated on an incremental basis starting with art.

We just need a mascot and we'll be golden!