Poseur

The title of this post is referring to the fact that this blog is all, "Mommy's headed to med school," but, really, Mommy's just Mommy for now. Mommy's headed to the laundry pile. Mommy's headed upstairs to enforce a rule. Mommy's headed to the grocery because she forgot a crucial ingredient.

Today we began Christmas prep in earnest: taking Christmas photos for Christmas cards. Maybe next year we'll institute a virtual card policy, but for this year we're still in eco trouble. As usual, about 20% of those pictures we took could be useful. I'll take this opportunity to upload one of the photos we won't be using this year.

Mazie and Vivian were initially glad to be on a photo shoot, but quickly tired of the relentless flow of instructions emanating from both parents simultaneously: "Mazie, stand still. Vivian, look at the camera - and keep your tongue in. Mazie, smile. Smile, Mazie. Both girls, stand still. Move back one step. One step. Move back one step. Not forward - good, now hold still." Between this barrage of instructions and the day that was colder than we thought, sourness soon set in.

But all is well. "Polar Express" is rolling and I have actually reached the bottom of the stack of papers on my desk. I am super stoked about this latter point, as the papers occupy approximately 30% of my brain even when I'm not actually thinking about them. I've got a day or so respite before some stray notes or Xeroxes from someone's school coalesce into a stack and then I forget exactly what's there and I neglect it for another several weeks. Alas...I have read Getting Things Done and Sink Reflections, yet this cycle persists. Any ideas?

Catch-as-catch-can night tonight (a lovely staccato way of saying "leftover night" that I absorbed from my stepdad's family). So soon the detritus will have cleared from my fridge as well, including the two-week-old jell-o unwittingly concocted in Raspberry in anticipation of the Tonsillectomy. Apparently, raspberry is unpalettable to my five-year-old, so there it rests. Lidless. Drying. Still as red and jewel-like as the night I made it. I almost want some, but I know better. It will have absorbed every free odor floating around the fridge by now.

By the way, "Polar Express" is weird, is it not? Anyone else think the imagery is a little edgy for a three-year-old? Unfortunately, I'm just noticing this.

Here's to parenting mistakes, small and large.