Photographic evidence ...

Cats don't really care if you are living. Their only requirements are that you look like you are trying to read and that you have a lap.

Imaginary parenting

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Hey, Guys?

How about you NOT bicker for the rest of the trip ... or at least until we get to our first destination? OK? Whatdoyasay?


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OK. ... How about this:

How about you take your imaginary pencils and - silently - write your complaints on these here imaginary sheets of paper, which you will then insert into my imaginary suggestion box, which I store in the front of the car for just these occasions ...


BICKER-BICKER And then what? BICKER


And then I will pretend to read them tomorrow.

National Public Relations

Strapped in his car seat, we were ready to roll ...

The radio was tuned to NPR, which was airing a story by Neda Ulaby about a publicity stunt by the Frito-Lay company. The company was hawking its products in a test kitchen on a Times Square billboard, arguing that as many as half of its snacks were by legal definition "All Natural."

I was kind-sorta-not-really listening, but The Champ was listening intently as Morning Edition's host Steve Inskeep said:

"The company was trying to send the message that Fritos, Cheetos and Doritos are healthy."

I could practically hear the grin cracking open the lower half of his little face.

"See, I tol' you."

When 'Farm Market' takes on a whole new meaning for mom

Let me set the scene:
It's the morning commute on a gray, rain-threatening day. The landscape, still crisp with fall colors though it is spring, rolls past our windows at 45 miles-per-hour. The boy is in his car seat talking non-stop about the things he sees - asking and often answering his own questions.

"Ders a guy with wandry. Where's he going? Maybe to da wandrymat."

"Can we go the wong way? I yike the wong way. It's faster than the short way."

The long way it is. Past school buildings and playgrounds. Past apple orchards and cattle ranches. Past miles and miles of fields.

"Is that a farm?" He asks as we drive past acres of wide open fields.

"Yes. That's a farm," I answer absently, momentarily wondering to myself if there will be a train at the crossing up ahead.

"What do they grow there?"

"Oh, I don't know," I say, trying to focus on his conversation. "It's a pretty big field. It could be hay or corn, or something like that."

"Don't they grow zombies there? I bet they grow zombies there."

I start to laugh. Of course he'd wonder about whether an iPhone app offered a window into the agricultural practices of the undead.

"That's just a computer game. There's no such thing as zombies."

"Well ... I think it would be fun if they did grow zombies. Because if they grew zombies I could keep one for a pet."

"If zombies were real," I tell him (as if this is the most natural conversation in the world to be having with a three-year-old) you most definitely would NOT want one for a pet."

"I would. I would keep him in a cage and feed him every day. I would!"

"What would you feed him?"

"I don't know. Zombie food. It costs five dollars and you can buy it at the store."

"I don't know how to break it to you bud, but zombies - which are not real anyway so don't go chasing nightmares - eat humans. And that makes it completely unsafe to own a zombie."

"Well ... If I had a zombie I would train him not to eat humans. That's what I would do."

Hard telling not knowing

"Is he a good guy or a bad guy?"

Truly, I don't know. I don't even know who HE is other than a plastic man who shoots plastic ice in the general direction of down.

But if he's anything like a person in the mortal world, he's probably a little of both.

"Maybe he's a good guy who has bad days."

It's officially Spring!

Batboy garb has returned to the chagrin of the still-needed winter coat.

Some commutes are better than others

This would be one of the "others."

Morning Commute

Brought to you by Toddler Tours Productions ... you might want Dramamine.

Morning commute

humid morning, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

I sat behind the wheel at the crossing, car in park, waiting for the train to pass. The boy in the back seat was happily eating his breakfast and watching the morning's entertainment: A freight train.

I couldn't believe how humid it's been. The windshield had a thick film, compounded by the riewview mirror fogging over.

Should have gone another way, I think momentarily. We'll be late again. There are so many other roads we could have taken.

On days like this it pains me to find the negative so easily. I am quick to fret and worry over every decision, every delay, every misstep.

I look up. And through a fogged lens into toddler eyes, I see things more clearly:

"Train. Passing. Mom? Train? Chooo-choooooooooo! YAY!!!"



RAIN, RAIN GO AWAY ....

Get crafty
Mabee Farm Historic Site, 1080 Main Street (Route 5S), Rotterdam Junction is the site of and arts and crafts festival Saturday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. The event features local handmade crafts pottery, wood crafting, folk art, jams, handwoven items, floor cloths, candles, jewelry, fine arts, painted furniture, artisan demonstrations, music and more. Admission is free. Food and boat rides on the Wofford along the Mohawk River are also available for a fee.

BUT IF YOU STAY, WE'LL FIND A WAY ....

Oh, go fly a kite!
Got wind? On Saturday from 2:30 to 4:30 p.m. build an indoor kite and learn what makes it fly at the Schenectady Museum & Suits-Bueche Planetarium's FETCH! Lab. The FETCH Lab runs weekly, hands-on activities similar to the ones on the popular PBS television show. Free with museum admission. Visit www.schenectadymusuem.org for more information.

Stimulation

I found a few extra dollars in my paycheck this week, thanks to the economic stimulus plan, and spent it on a few things I didn't need: the Juno soundtrack and orange-flavored Tic Tacs.

I blame HBO programming honchos, a longing for my youth and product placement for this particular impulse purchase.

I know the money probably could have been better spent; perhaps on groceries or other necessities. But at least I was smiling and singing happily on my way to work this morning.

Madison doesn't give a rat's *ss if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow

contempt , originally uploaded by toyfoto.

He's just pretty ticked off I have to audacity to move my car out from under him.

Frozen world

price freeze, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Woke up this morning to the sound of ice sliding off the metal roof.

"WHAT! was THAT!?," asked Annabel, who had taken advantage of her father's travels to sleep in our bed.

"Ice sliding off the roof," I answered matter-of-factly.

It was cold, the heat hadn't kicked on. Silas was still in a warm little heap between us.

I checked the clock. It was dark and empty.

No power.

Nothing to do but dress and leave; maybe there'd be electricity at the babysitter's house. I phoned. Nope. But she's got a fireplace and a gas stove, so there's heat.

Our ghosts -- the ones we'd hung from our two mighty black walnut trees but didn't take down after halloween -- had fallen to the lawn with dozens of tree limbs.

The firetruck had blocked the road so I decided to turn right and see the rest of the neighborhood. Trees and limbs downed everywhere.

"What kind of world is this?" exclaimed Annabel from the backseat. And then she was silent. The whole car was silent for a moment until she answered her own question.

"It looks like a beautiful FROZEN world."

Morning commute

Apropos, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

We were early this morning by 10 minutes. Early - even only a little - always feels good; it always feels like there's time to relax and let the world meet you where it wants to.

The CD player was bellowing out tunes to sooth Silas, the studded snowtires were ticking along and Annabel was conversing with herself in her usual voice - a combination song and chant - when I noticed the train rolling along beside us.

I sped up. My Civic gained on the Canadian rail cars.

"Look, Annabel, we're racing the train."

She stopped talking long enough to look out her window. She was excited. I turned the radio down to hear her better:

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy ... MOOOOOOOOOOTHER! We're winning. We're winning. Take a picture. Take a picture. No. No. Let me take a picture. ... "

I laughed when we got to the end of the line - the railroad crossing. I put the car in park and cut the engine as the lights on the signal blaired and the arms of the crossing sign lowered. We had almost beaten the train for real. The conductor waved as the locomotive's engine passed the crossing in front of us.

I dug out the camera from my bag and switched it on, then handed it back to Annabel.

Keeping both eyes open she snapped away, occasionally looking down at the display to see what she'd gotten. She was delighted when the camera flashed bits of train parts back to her.

"I'm going to keep taking pictures, OK?"

"That's a great idea," I said. "Looks like this is going to be a long one."

When I turned the volume back up this was playing.

She's got a 'thing' for costume dramas

waitiing for guests to arrive, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Ittybit: Mama, will you make me a costume like Wonder Woman's?

Mama: Hmmmm. Can you describe it?

Ittybit: Oh. Okay. Well I'm not sure what the boots looked like ... but it was blue and red. And the bottom had dots on it and the top had stripes. And she wore gold bracelets with stars and she had a crown with stars. And, oh yeah, I remember the boots now: They had dots on them, too. ...

... And she had a thing like you wear only you know how yours is long? Hers was not.

It was like two circles and a string.

Mama: Hmmmm.

Ittybit: You know ... to cover her BREASTS!

Mama: **giggles ... giggles**

Ittybit: I hope you're not laughing at me.

Mama: I'm not laughing at you. I'm ... I'm ...

... just trying to decide what we'll use for material that won't be as invisible as Wonder Woman's plane.

Tuesday Tunes

morning commute, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

"There was an old lady who swallowed a fly. I don't know why she swallowed the fly, probalee to get a spider she swallered, or maybe the bird. that was ab ... ab ... ab.

"MOM! What's that word?"

"Absurd."

"Oh Yeah. A bird. She swalllered the bird to catch a fly to eat a spider.
and then the old lady ate a cat to catch the fly or the spider and maybe a bird. But a bird doesn't eat a cat. So that's just weird.

"Oh I don't know why she swallowed the fly. Maybe to get the dog ... or the hog.

"MOM! What's a HOG?"

"It's like a pig, Annabel".

"Well maybe they should just say pig.

"OK that's pretty big, to swaller a pig. Maybe it was to get the goat.
And that rhymes with coat but not cow or horse, which comes next. But then she's fat. And that is that."

"Are you sure that's how the song goes?"

"Yes, because Silas likes it."

The highchair wars

next week, college, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

What the ...

The baby's been eating what arguably can be called real food -- pureed vegetables and soupy cereals -- for only a month now and already I'm noticing a trend.

He gets pretty excited by the increasing proximity of the booster chair. It means food.

He doesn't like fruits just yet. He makes unbearably cute wrinkled faces when his lips touch banana, apple or pear. But he'll eat the rice cereal mixed with sweet potato or squash like it's Grandma's homemade pie.

However the spoon is driving the poor boy crazy. He wants it for himself. He wants to hold it, and lick it clean and stick it in his ear if that's where it ends up. Doesn't matter. He. Wants. The. Spoon.

And if you take it away you will break his heart into a billion little pieces.

Now I am going to toot my own horn here -- because no matter what you all might think of me -- I'm not really quick on the uptake. Just this morning in the car Annabel and I endured 20 minutes of screaming during the morning commute before I thought to turn on the CD player and pump up the volume on the Dave Matthews CD that's been in the slot so long it must be stuck. Finally, we were able to enjoy the soothing sounds of musical silence for approximately 3 minutes until we reached our destination.

I digress.

I'm tooting because once I got the boy to calm down, I reached into the utencil drawer and retrieved ANOTHER SPOON. Yes folks, I played a little game of "I'll trade ya" with the pablum eater.

"I'll trade you this yummy spoon loaded with potato mush if you give me that empty old crusty one you've been sucking on now for the last half hour ..."

Worked like a charm.

Now all I need is a drain in the floor so I can use the hose for cleanup.

Every Day is Sunshine ... In my eyes

morning commute, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

I ended maternity leave the first of October. Fifteen weeks after I'd begun it.

The ending also came with a new beginning. A new set of expectations, a new set of worries and concerns: a new daycare provider and even a new, longer commute that brings me past ancient buildings, forgotton farms and furry creatures never before seen in these here parts especially not a hunnerd years ago.

Some days I bring my camera, and if the car is still and the traffic light, I hold my arm out and take a few snaps of the scenery as we pass by.







Annabel sometimes asks to take my camera. And she snaps away, recording the seat back or the top of her brother's head.

Other times she instructs me on where to look: "There's a horse coming up. Take its picture. .... There's a really good tree. Take it. Take it. DO IT. Don't forget the Llamas!"

It's funny how I go past this place every day, and yet I've only been inside twice. Neither time while making the trip from our house to the sitter's. Not enough time. Not enough energy to release two kids from the car and heft one inside while corraling the other; not enough patience, no matter how nice it would be to have a warm cup of coffee and a fresh scone.

I also can't seem to get past this old broken down farm with it's myriad travel trailers and rambling buildings. Maybe it's the curve in the lane that seems like a nice, safe place to let my mind wander from the road a bit. Maybe it's the highs of the trees and the lows of the land with nothing else in between that has me revisiting time and again with my camera. ... Whatever it is, I can't seem to get past this place.









Course, it would be a little easier some days if we weren't traveling East.

"MAMA! Can you tell the man who works the sun to turn it off?"

We have no formality at 7:30 a.m.

7:30 a.m. Pink Moon, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Ittybit: Oh Mommy, look. It's a pink moon.
Terri won't believe it.

Mommy: I have my camera, should I take a picture?

Ittybit: Oh yes, please. Can we? Can we take a picture? I'd like it for my room. ... Only, I don't want it in one of those black things.

Mommy: A frame?

Ittybit: Yes, a frame. I mean NO I don't want that.

Mommy: I'll just print one out and we can tack it up on your wall, is that what you'd like?

Ittybit: Yes. That's what I want when you take it out of the camera.