9 P.M. And All Is Well.

I should really go to bed.

I should really go to bed.

I should really, really go to bed.

The Baron is working until 11:30pm tonight, which means at least midnight before he gets home.  The Pickle is asleep.  The Pepper is asleep.

I should really go to bed.

Kids have been sick on and off again for the last week.  The Pepper's sleep schedule is way off.  Last night she went to bed at 11:15 - which meant that the Easter Bunny hit the sack around one a.m.

I should really go to bed.

And yet, if I go to bed, I don't get to appreciate the one thing I am enjoying right now...something so rare, I almost forget it exists around here.   

Silence.

It would be a shame to waste it on something so mundane as sleep.

I should really go to bed.

In a few more minutes. 

Those Wacky Swedes

On Sunday, we took a little field trip to Ikea. I love Ikea, I can't help myself. For those of you who've never had the pleasure of visiting our little elf house covered in dog fur, it's a tiny little cottage, not unlike, I often imagine, the same type of cottage where the three bears lived. It was built in the 40's as a summer house for some of those fancy pants types in Washington D.C.. Over the years, people have added onto the house, but it's still a little place with narrow doorways and small rooms. I can't actually shop for furniture in traditional furniture stores, 1) because we can't afford real furniture and B) Real furniture is built with the giant McMansions in mind so none of it fits in my little 3/4 size house.

But Ikea. Ikea is furniture built for people in small apartments - for trendy, chic, young, upwardly mobile people who have a definite sense of style. In other words, people completely unlike me. However, their furniture fits in my house so I love it there.

On the way over, the Pickle asked what Ikea was. When I told her it was a Swedish furniture store she looked a little confused and so I asked her if she knew who the Swedish were.

Her face lit up and she answered, "Yes! Those are the people who celebrate Hanukkah!"

Excellent.

By the way, it just occurred to me that if the Pepper grows up and decides to attend medical school she'll be "Dr. Pepper."

Diamonds are a Pepper's Best Friend.

This is an actual conversation between me and the Pepper at our favorite local restaurant. Let me set the stage:

Cheeburger Cheeburger is a small chain of 50/60’s family-style sock-hop looking restaurants. Along with the music of the time, they have life-size cardboard cutout of various people, including James dean, Betty Boop and Marilyn Monroe. Pepper, two years old is eating her French fries when she spies the Marilyn Monroe cutout on the back door of the restaurant.

Pepper: Look! (Pointing at Marilyn) Dat me!

Me: That’s not you; that’s Marilyn Monroe.

Pepper: No, dat’s ME! Look, she have strong arms. (She flaps her arms delicately like a bird.) I have strong arms. She have a pretty, pretty dress. I have a pretty, pretty dress. She have…(Pepper opens her mouth and points to her teeth)…big teeth and a smile. I have big teeth and a smile. She have long hair. I have long hair.

Me: You don’t have long hair. And your hair is red, sweetie.

Pepper: (Undaunted-) She have nose, and cheeks and ears! I have nose, cheeks and ears.
Pepper: Gasp- LOOK! She have little, little shoes. I have little, little shoes! Dat me!
The last line was delivered with such authority; there was no denying her argument.

Me: Ok, that’s you.

Pepper: I go touch me.

At which point she ran over and gently rubbed the arm of Marilyn.

Pepper: (To the three tables of people who had heard the conversation and were now watching her every move.) DAT ME!

Sigh.

One of the greatly endearing habits of The Pepper is that since she has been able to talk, she has referred to ice cream as "happy." Regardless of the Land Baron's obsession with the frozen dairy goodness, he did not actually teach Pepper to call it this. After dinner she asks for happy, walking through the grocery store in the ice cream aisle, she joyfully points to each container as we walk by; happy, happy, happy, happy. It's always been happy to her.

On a side note, the Land Baron's obsession with ice cream is so strong that he has it every. single. night. We have come home from plenty of large feasts, putting away food that in caloric count, could feed most of the state of Deleware and he will walk through the door, go directly to the freezer and take out the carton. When the Pickle was testing to get into Pre-K 3, she answered an analogy question like this:

Teacher: We eat breakfast in the morning and at night we eat....
Pickle: Ice Cream!

Afterwards, the Land Baron felt the need to explain to the teacher that at 2 1/2 years old, the Pickle didn't always get around to eating her dinner, but she did have ice cream every night with her father and therefore understood the concept of the question.

Yesterday however, was a sad day in our house. After dinner, Pepper walked to the fridge and said "Ice cream please." and I said, "Happy?" and she said, "No ice cream." The Land Baron saw my sad, "I can't believe we're losing this part of her to growing up face" that I seem to have mastered over the last several years and said "I didn't want to tell you, but she asked me for 'ice cream' yesterday too. I was hoping if I ignored it, she'd forget that she said it."

Sigh....

New Moon On Monday

OK, it's Thursday. So sue me...

In November I mentioned that I was going to a Bon Jovi concert at the end of February. Apparently I am living the entire 80’s music scene all over again.

This week, one of the local radio stations had Duran Duran in studio- or rather Simon Le Bon and some new guitarist named Dom Brown since Andy Taylor is too strung out to be part of the band any longer. It was awesome! I sat in the car outside of work early, just to hear it.

Back in the day, I was a HUGE fan of Duran Duran thanks to my friend Stephanie’s older sister, Jen and her best friend Julie. We were in junior high school- insignificant and awkward, but Jen and Julie were high-schoolers and incredibly cool. Julie even worked at the local radio station and got to occasionally fill in as a DJ under her air name Julie Duran. So when they told us we needed to love Duran Duran, we of course, took their advice. Rooms were plastered with the requisite Tiger Beat and Teen magazine photos – songs were recorded off the radio using a tape recorded held up to the speaker after we called in and requested their latest hit – dances were choreographed to Union of the Snake – The latest James Bond Film (A View to a Kill) was seen because the theme song was performed by Duran Duran. The only thing I never got to do was see them in concert- a victim of my own youth and the fact that Duran Duran didn’t perform anywhere within 400 miles of my hometown.

Most of my friends were gaga over the pretty-boy John. I preferred the silent Roger and practically fainted over the ruggedness of Simon. So what if his pitch is only fair even on the best days.

And sure, as I have gotten older, I have lived in places where I could have seen a concert. But for a while, in an attempt to move past their youthful foolishness, Duran Duran made the unfortunate decision not to play any of their old hits in concert. Roger and Andy left the band. Then John did. Simon and Nick carried on but ran through drummers and guitarists and bass players like a bad version of Spinal Tap. I just couldn’t bring myself to see them live.
Are you fascinated by this yet? I thought so.

Anyway, at some point the boys woke up, realized they weren’t going to have a career without their old fans and reunited the band – although Andy never quite made it back – and started playing their old hits again. Turns out, everybody still wanted to hear them.

Now they have a new album and a new tour starting later in the year. Wanna go with me? Come on, you know you want to…

Yeah!

Anybody notice it's snowing outside? :)

The best thing about my little desk at my little office is that I have a window in front of me that my desk is shoved up against. (Note: I realize the grammar police would quickly ticket me for this sentence since it should read "against which my desk is shoved" or something like that- but it sounds ridiculous, so instead you get bad grammar.)

Anyway, it sure looks pretty outside- too bad I forgot my boots -I'd take a walk in it before the girls got out of school and daycare.

Makes me feel like I'm in Maine -although in Maine right now they have something like 3 1/2 feet of snow on the ground.

If you are in Maryland, I hope you have the chance to enjoy it while it lasts.

Now We Are Six

It's a little late, but here are a few highlights from the Pickle's pet-themed party:

            Mmmmm...butter cream frosting

   What dreams do 6 year olds wish for?

     15 kids do some damage to a cake.

 A little swag left over from The Golden Globes.

The best part of a big sister's birthday - the cheesy puffs!

Happy birthday Pepper!  We love you!