Another great weekend that was a lovely mix of TCB and relaxing

I'm lucky enough that my weekends start on Friday - and I had both Max and his pal Jakob for the day (Silke and I had done a babysitting swap) those kids are so funny together - they had a great time. I schlepped them to Berkeley b/c I had an acupuncture appt over there and overall they did a great job. I started at Ikea - I knew I could get them both lunch for just a couple of bucks and they'd be able to run around. They had so much fun. I gave them a ride on a flatbed, they did a little drill team with the shopping carts, helped themselves to free rope and too their credit took off their shoes (without being asked) before them climbed all over the beds. I'd give them a solid "B" for waiting room behavior while I was under the needles - Jakob just couldn't resist the buzzer button.

On the way home we got stuck in heinous traffic. There were power lines down and it took us AN HOUR to go THREE MILES! Hardly seems possible, right? Thank goodness they were there to amuse each other - I think it would have been much worse if it was just me and the boy.

Saturday was the official start of the Garage Sale season. I got a v. nice Homedics chair massage pad for John's car (since I haven't exactly given him back the one I borrowed out of his car) for a mere $4 and a FREE two-man tent. We set it up in the backyard and the kid loves his little hideout. He ate 1/2 his meals there this weekend. Also, because I'm a complete freak, I also filled a bag of free baby toys for my friend Sandy. Her bebe isn't due until Jan, but I couldn't resist.

To my complete astonishment, Max is mesmerized by an audio book of The Hobbit. I would have thought it would have been too weird and scary for him, but he loves it and spent a lot of time in his room listening to it. Part of my was thrilled, "Woo-Hoo, the boy is in his room amusing himself - I've been waiting 7 years for this!" But of course, I couldn't just enjoy it and use the time to get stuff done, I had to worry that he really should be outside enjoying the beautiful weather, or I we should all be doing something together. Am I a case or what?

Sunday of course was Father's Day, and Papa Bear woke up to a sumptuous breakfast that would have instantly hardened the arteries of a lesser man. He spent the day watching sports and puttering around the garage. Baby Bear needed a new pair of shoes so he and I headed out to Marshall's. In the middle I got to spend about 45 minutes or so sitting outside in the deck chair reading and almost snoozing in the sun - heavenly!

This post is wide, rather than deep - I just don't have the mental energy for anything else. I still haven't dug into my creative projects yet, very much want to get started during the week.

Not much time to blog tonight b/c I'm about to be joined on the new couch by John to watch the TIVO'd Tony Awards. Yes, for the last few weeks we've had to take turns sitting "the" good chair in the TV room, the loser relegated to "thet rickety chair" (Young Ones reference intentional)

SOO I'll pick up Daphne's Ten Things I Like throw down, but in the interest of time will shorten it to 5.

1) The Tony Awards. As lukewarm as I am about live theater, I just love the Tony Awards. I like most televised awards shows. Tonys is the classiest, Golden Globes is the tackiest, and Oscars are somewhere in between.

2) Eating outside. We got a new patio set this and used it for the first time this weekend - it was heavenly (even if we were eating take-out burritos). Can't wait to use it more.

3) New beauty products. I got a grapefruit scented salt scrub at TJs and I coudn't wait until my next shower to try it. I get the same thrill from a new lipstick or mascara.

4) Using my hands. I have an embroidery project and a decoupage project coming up, really looking forward to diving into them.

5) The moment you realize that the book you're reading is really wonderful - and you've still got plenty of it left.

Five things I'm waiting to like,

1) Creme Brulee - people who love it loooove it, but it does nothing for me. Same goes for mangoes and Indian food.

2) Gardening. Like number 1, I know people who are so spiritually connected to their garden and get such pleasure from me. I don't like dirt or hot weather or all of the tools yadda yadda that you have to have.

3) Pets. I have no interest in having a pet - never have. I roll my eyes at "pet people." I just don't get it. While I am a kid person, I have a lot of sympathy for those who are not. They must have the same reaction that I do to animals who makes themselves known on the street or in stores as I do. And please, don't tell me your dog won't bite. He's a DOG! Of course he'll bite if he feels threatened. And its NOT OK for him to come up to me on the street and sniff or lick me. My kid doesn't slobber all over you does he? And PLEASE stop with the "these dogs are my kids." When you worry about sending your dog to college or he turns to you and screams, "I hate you! You're the world's worst owner!" then we can talk.

4) Hiking/Biking. San Anselmo/Fairfax is full of people who when they have a little free time will immediately go for a hike or a bike ride. It never even occurs to me. I'd be heading out for the nearest yard sale or discount store.

5) Tennis Shoes. I HATE athletic shoes on women. Unless you are actively participating in a sport, they have no business on your feet. However, because of my Plantar Faciitis I feel I may have to go this route at least on the weekends. Grrrrr!

Such a nice weekend - the perfect combination of TCBing and relaxing.

Friday I went to Trader Joe's, bought a rug for the living room at Tuesday Morning and did almost 3 years worth of filing. Friday night was the annual PTA BBQ at Manor School. Max and I were about 1/2 way there and I realized I forgot the Rice Krispies treats at home. He REALLY didn't want to go back and after a lot of back and forth said, "Mommy, how about I make you this deal, you drop me off and go back and get them yourself." I could get behind that - and was sort of secrectly happy that my often clingy kid was willing - nee eager - to be left on his own. As we're walking toward the gate, one of the other moms was standing on the sidewalk holding a huge salad bowl and looking puzzled. She called out, "Lara, what do I do? I forgot the brownies" I said, "I'm in the same boat, I forgot the Rice Krispies treats and I'm going back." She says jokingly, "So you'll go back to my house and pick them up to?" and I said, "Well I could - no problem." She laughed and said, "No way - you're awesome" and gave me directions and said the door to her house was unlocked - and that she'd keep 1/2 an eye on Max while I was gone. What I loved about this was that it speaks so much to the sense of community that we have at Manor - so many nice, easy, friendly people all committed to creating a warm cooperative circle of families. It's good to be reminded on a regular basis that there's a reason we live here. AND, I'm proud to say I resisted my devilish urge to snoop around at her house - I just picked up the brownies and left :)

The rest of the BBQ was great. Yummy potluck chow, rockin' music by a band of parents and I hardly saw the boy the whole time - he was running around with his pals the whole time. One of the dads - who is one part Caractacus Potts and one part Mythbuster - set up a rig in the back of the lawn that shot off plastic bottles into the air. It was right up the boy's ally and he hung out there forever.

After the BBQ there was a campout on the lawn and a movie in the Multi. Needless to say, the Starr's declined to camp, but to my amazement, the kid wanted to stay for "Night at the Museum" and even made it 3/4 of the way through. He's usually VERY cautious about potentially scary movies - so I was glad he pushed himself a little.

Saturday my mom took Max to Discovery Kingdom for the day. John spent a good part of the day at the office and I got some errands and chores done - including scoring two pair of never-been-worn Clark's shoes and a whole pile of books at a yard sale (YAY - summer time, and the yard saleing is easy). I also spent some time putting my little office space together. I'ts evolved into a sort of vintage Paris/Ballard Designs kind of look (http://www.ballarddesigns.com) - I just love it. I also scored a little mini bookshelf thing for $.50 that I'm planning to decoupage. It's going to look so cute and I've been wanting do a decoupage project for a while. Sunday Max had a bud over for the first time at the new house and they played all day with no intervention required. John and I put together the new patio furniture, which looks great. I'm so excited to be able to eat outside this summer. I also spent a bit of time searching for images for the decoupage project - I felt completely immersed in 1920s Paris.

Laundry and dishes are done, floors are mopped, fridge is full, kid is bathed and blog entry is written and I may even go to bed at a decent hour. Lovely end to a lovely weekend.

So I'm walking toward the ferry this afternoon and a guy on a bike is coming toward me. I get out of his way, but he calls out "Excuse me!" He's perfectly normal looking, and I'm thinking he wants directions or something so I stop and smile. And he says, "I don't mean to offend you, but I'm a personal trainer. Its what I do for a living, and I have have book I think you should read."

Does this guy REALLY walk (or in this case bike) up to overweight women and say this? Is this how he gets clients for his supposed personal training? Would he DARE do so to a man? I politely, yet firmly said, "I'm heading for my ferry" and walked away.

But Mr. Muscles was undeterred. He turned his bike around and rode passed me (almost) yelling, "It's called 'Skinny Bitch!' Its a very good book!"

Now of course, it took me more than a hour to come up with the appropriate comeback, "I have a book for you too, it's called 'Rude Asshole'" But at the time I was just dumbstruck. Had some stranger really called out the words "Skinny Bitch" at me in a plaza full of people?

Now, this isn't the first time I've had bizarre encounters with random strangers on the street. Two that stand out in my mind are 1) The probable pedophile who came up to me when I was 15 and said he was working on a calendar of large women and did I want to be in it? Also undeterred when I walked away, he called out "Its for the Olympics!" (it *was* LA in 1984) and 2) There was a nutty lady who lived in our neighborhood when I was a kid who used to giggle whenever she walked by you on the street. But one time, she said "I'll eat your pussy for a dollar."

Unlike these two, Muscles didn't seem crazy, just terribly, terribly misguided and delusional. I'm sure in his mind he was just honestly trying to spread the good news about "Skinny Bitch" to the flabby souls who have not yet been saved.

And, in a thought process that can also probably be accurately described as delusional, I thought, "Maybe this is the universe telling me something. I've struggled with my weight for my whole life. Lost a lot, gained a lot, and I'm definitely at an all-time high. Maybe theres something in 'Skinny Bitch' that will help - and the universe has sent me this message in the form of a jerk on a Schwinn."

So I get on Amazon tonight and look up "Skinny Bitch" and its a book written by two MODELS that basically uses a lot of vulgar language and name-calling and extols the virtues of a vegan lifestyle. The 140 reviews range from "this book changed my life!" to "this book is total ca-ca." There's nothing in the reviews that makes me think this is a book that I would like or find value in. And yet... I can't shake the feeling that I'm "supposed" to read this book. I think I've been watching too much "Lost." I have no intention of BUYING it, but I may (that's MAY) get it from the library. If I do, I will of course have to cover it in a brown wrapper. I am who I am, and I can't hide my extra pounds, but I am NOT prepared to be seen on the ferry reading a copy of "Skinny Bitch."

OK so I skipped a week, but I have a good excuse. I was at my 20 year (yep 20!) high school reunion down in LA last weekend.

I wasn't nervous about going. I'd been joking that I only had X amount of time before the reunion to cure cancer, make a million dollars, win a Pulitzer and loose 50 lbs, but the truth is, I am who I am. I've got some things I've accomplished, some I might still and some I probably won't. But at this age and stage I'm pretty OK with where I am. I also looking forward to some family-free time (I mean I love the Starr fellas, but you know....) and even to the drive. I stayed with my friend Leslie - who I've known since I was 12. It was good to spend so much time wither her. We got manicures and ran errands in the afternoon - including picking up a bottle of wine to drink while we were primping.

The turn-out was not great, about 120 people tops out of a class of around 800. But there were many there who it was great to see. The group of "popular girls" - who I was friends with but not in the inner circle - are all still friends and hang out together. There were a handful of kids I go all the way to elementary school with, and a couple in our class who I was in preschool with were weren't at the reunion - that would have been fun if they were. There was a definite sense that we all had a definite shared experience from being at Fairfax HS together.

And there *was* something special about growing up in LA, particularly in that area of LA at that time. I grew up in the Beverly-Fairfax area. Not quite West Hollywood, not quite Hollywood if you know LA well - but those close enough as landmarks. The neighborhood was mostly Jewish, and Fairfax was known as a top school for decades. It's graduated a who's who of B-list celebs: Demi Moore, Ricardo Mantelban, Byron Allen, most of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a couple of the lesser Jacksons (Tito and Jermain I think) Herb Alpert and Phil Spector to name a few. I saw Dustin Hoffman on "Inside the Actor's Studio" say that he didn't want to go to Fairfax because it was "too jewish" and he wanted a more diverse experience. Well, by the time I got there in 1984 it was plenty diverse. I have a feeling that my classmates and I were some of the last gasp of what Farifax was. These days there are metal detectors on the doors, and I wonder if "nice" families send their kids there anymore?

Looking back I can see what a great experience it was to watch the neighborhood grow and change in so many ways, and stay the same in so many others. Melrose Avenue had a lot of upholstery shops and retirement homes when I was little. There were funky places like the bird/pet shop that had chickens roaming the floors, Illifilly nuts where were would buy cashews on the way home from school. The Kit Kat topless club and the bizarre Burger Castle that had a carousel of what seemed like 500 syrups that could be added to sodas. Then was ground-zero for punk and new-wave boutiques (Flip!) and is now a very LA mix of chains, trendy indys and even a few vestiges of its funky past. Fairfax Avenue - on the other side of the school is amazingly intact as LAs version of the Lower East Side. Barton's candy is sadly gone, but Canter's deli's sassy waitresses are still serving up Buck Benny's and cherry phosphates.

All of that is very much in the shared experience of the Fairfax High School class of '87, and so very different from how Max is growing up. I'm not ready to determine if its better or worse, but it is so very different.

What stood out for me is how friendly and open everyone was, and that so many had very young children/babies or were pregnant. We are having our kids much older these days. And there was no "Halona Harrison" moment. At the 10 year reunion Halona Harrison - who had been an EXTREME nerd in High School made a triumphant return in what can only be described as... drag. The girl with the bucked teeth, bottle glasses, frizzy ponytail and spazzy demeanor was decked out in platform heels, a long slinky dress, hair extensions and attitude to spare. It was a draw-dropping sight.

My mom and I had a big yard sale this weekend, and by big I mean the amount of crap I had wanted to unload, not the amount of $$ we made. Traffic was slooooow. Painfully slow considering how much stuff we had. I'd gone out the night before and put up signs - and when we didn't get the expected early rush I went out to investigate and sure enough, most of my signs were gone. Victims of the wind, vandals or cops. GRRR! I re-posted and sure enough traffic did improve, but we still have 15 or so boxes of stuff to take to Goodwill.

I'd like to say we saw a fascinating parade of humanity - but 90% of the shoppers were loony older ladies with dogs in tow. There was a fun young Asian mom who loaded up on toys & housewares (she even bought the $3 bag of misc. pillowcases I wasn't sure I should put out. Would anybody want these? Just shows you - one man's trash...) She was pushing a douple stroller so we offered to hold the stuff for her so she could come back with a car. But she evicted her older daughter from the stroller with "She can walk" and loaded it up with the skill of a Bedouin preparing to caravan. Brava. There was a nice couple who are moving to Santa Fe, they responded to the ad for he free moving boxes and we joked about moving. And then they bought a couple of books and throw rugs - more stuff for them to move :) The neighbor boys were our best customers. Their moms sent them down with a couple of bucks and they kept returning to buy gifts for their whole family: a basket for dad ("because he carries things from the car a lot") a tube of novelty "Boys are Smelly" lotion for the mom. The three year old bought a bag of rubber worms, and became our first dissatisfied customer when he realized they weren't gummy. One of them even wanted to buy our old telephone. I made him go ask his mom first. I didn't want to be responsible for the kid plugging it in and calling China. Young James was thrilled with the experience. He peddled away with his purchases triumphantly declaring, "This is the first time I ever shopped by myself!" A couple of Latino guys who bought the weight bench were the heroes of the day - we are so glad to be rid of that heavy awkward thing and the nagging feeling that we should be using it. Toward the end of the day I was joking with an earthy Fairfax type that the bowl she was buying was a wedding gift, and that I felt kind of guilty for selling it, but that I hadn't used it in 10 years. She gave me a very serious look and said, "I'm a firm believer in living your truth. You're doing the right thing."

Max was supposed to run a lemonade stand while we were selling. So, I made the lemonade, cookies, crispy treats, and a sign. And set up the table, cups & napkins. The kid lasted for about 1/2 an hour and then abandoned me for a trip to the library and lunch with his dad. I wasn't upset, as business was far from brisk. But after a couple of hours Mom realized, "You know, without a kid here, it looks like two grown women running a lemonade stand. Kind of pathetic, like 'How hard up are you ladies? You're not only selling all of your stuff, but also lemonade at 25 cents a pop?"

A neighbor asked me if it was worth it - she has an attic full of stuff she's like to get rid of but wasn't sure a yard sale was worth the trouble. I told her that overall we had fun, and the experience was a social if not financial success. I was glad I did it, and probably won't do it again.

So it looks like my last post was 3 months ago? I know I can't do daily, I can certainly do weekly, but quarterly is just pathetic. So sorry to any of you who have clicked over to see if I'd updated - I appreciate your tenacity and am so sorry it wasn't rewarded before now.

I'm not going to attempt to catch up on the last three months - but here we are in May, and the Starr Family is in a new house! Still renting (no lottery winnings or inheritances from long-lost relatives in the last few months) but a much bigger, nicer house right across the street! It was still a move, and still involved a lot of work and stress, but moving across the street has its advantages, such as keeping my clothes on the hangers and just hand-carrying them from closet to closet. While there are a few items in the "negative" column (the kitchen was designed by a moron - a very tall moron) the place is sparkling clean, has lovely hardwood floors, a living room AND a family room, a huge room for Max and two, count 'em TWO bathrooms. The boy is over the moon - he never really took to the funky little shack we were in across the street - and just loves his new home. Funny though about the lottery. The family who lived here had three kids and rented the house for 8 years. Then right after the holidays the two station wagons they used to drive were replaced by brand new SUVs (one a BMW) and they bought a house in Novato.

So here I am in my cozy family room after a really nice weekend. Started on Friday with a class field trip to the Lawrence Hall of Science. I agreed to take a total of three kids one the condition that I get only calm, well-behaved ones. Max, the lovely Lisette and the charming Marcos - who have known each other since they were two - did very well the whole time.

Saturday was spent with Daphne finally fulfilling our dual-museum date. Daph beautifully summed-up the day here:

http://somewhere-i-have-never-travelled.blogspot.com/2007/05/san-francisco-day-of-unusual-beauty.html

It was a real "this is why I live here" (meaning Bay Area) and "I wish I still lived here" (meaning San Francisco) moment. Without meaning to sound dramatic, my soul cries out when I'm in the city. I love the funky stores, gracious houses, and evidence everywhere of diverse people and their lives. I drive around and it feels like home and I can't fathom that other people don't feel it and when given a choice would choose to live in someplace like Novato or even San Anselmo. Does anyone's heart skip a beat driving through Novato? Are 12 thousand white people and their SUVs really an ideal community?

A productive Sunday (made all the more productive b/c Max was out most of the day running a lemonade stand at the park with his pals Jakob and Jonah. Jakob's dad took the three boys for an outing to the horse pasture to collect poop for their garden and then (after a thorough hand-washing) supervised the thriving lemonade concern. He is a braver man than I) was capped by a lovely BBQ in at Danielle & Peter's. Yummy food, lively company, and Danielle's amazing art were enjoyed by all, especially me who was happy to let someone else do the cooking.

So here's my plan. There's NOTHING on TV on Sunday nights - so I'd like to set aside Sunday night for blogging. Doesn't mean I won't pop in during the week as events or inspiration warrant, but it will at least put me one the once-a week habit.

I was driving to the city to see a movie with Vanessa on Sunday, listening to the soundtrack to "Cabaret" in the car. It's a favorite CD of mine - say what you want about Liza Minelli, but the gal had pipes in her day, and when I come back in my next life as someone with actual singing talent, "Maybe This Time" will be the show-stopper of my lounge act. So right as I'm pulling up to the ticket booth, the Nazi anthem comes blaring out of the speakers. I tried to hand the toll taker my money and turn down the volume at the same time, but I'm pretty sure she got an earful of "Fatherland, Fatherland show us the sign, your children have waited to hear!!" Even though I'm 99.9% sure she wasn't paying attention and woudln't have ID'd the song as a battle cry for the 3rd Reich, I was still mortified. Made me wonder what kind of weirdness those people witness on a daily basis. Couples smooching (or worse)? People fighting (or worse)? Naked, drunk, sick or wacked-out people?

OK, So I haven't blogged since the beginning of December. I'm going to chalk it up to the usual crazy/busy holiday time, a few good TV shows: Top Chef, Six Feet Under & Sopranos on A&E and the triumphant return of Ace of Cakes, and a general tiredness that comes from, oh - I don't know, going to bed at 11 and waking up at 5 every day. I'm not going to bother to back-blog - suffice it to say my holidays were blessed by good food, thoughtful gifts and the company of family and friends.

2007 has not gotten off to a stellar start. We returned to the office after New Years to massive layoffs and the news that those of us lucky enough not to loose our jobs will be moving to a location at 16th and Protero. If I stick with public transportation - this can add up to an hour to my commute. If I drive - I not only incur the expense of gas, tolls and wear & tear, but I become one of "those" single passenger cars who are definitely part of the problem, not the solution.

My friend Sandy thinks this is the perfect opportunity for me to take stock of what it is I really want to do and go for it. That would be great if there WAS some big dream I wasn't pursuing, or if I didn't have people depending on me.

I think a lot about the idea of happiness, and I think its a relatively modern and somewhat self-indulgent idea. Not that I think people should be miserable - I just think that for most of human history, and in much of the world, "happiness" or "fulfillment" are not the goals. You just do what you have to do and you get satisfaction from doing it honestly and well. Of course, there are many people who are lucky enough to both have a dream and the opportunities to make it come true. Of the millions of five-year-olds who want to grow up to be firemen and ballerinas, thousands of them actually do. But, the world is not driven by dreams - its driven by the work that needs to be done. We need maids, taxi drivers, bookkeepers, secretaries, construction workers, A/P Administrators - millions of people doing jobs its nobodies dream to do.

I think you can find joy, grace and yes, even happiness in a million other ways that have nothing to do with your income stream. If you can have one in the other, that is a blessing - but I don't think its something to which we are entitled.

There are a lot of things I like to do. I love baking - the alchemy of mixing sugar, flour, butter and eggs to create something entirely new that was never there before, makes people smile, and "poof" is gone in a matter of minutes. I love doing things with my hands - sewing, embroidery, arts and crafts of all kinds. I wish there was a reason for gown-ups to make dioramas. I love dioramas. I appreciate both art and craft from TV to books to paintings to music to buildings to fashion, and have felt my heart leap at witnessing a thrilling expression of creativity and skill. I love writing quippy little things - I know I don't a novel in me, but I have bursts of cleverness I can serve up in small bites.

Could, or is the better question, should any of these things spin into a career? Am I a self-defeating slouch if I answer, "No?"

The snooze of a Nutcracker performance I saw last week reinforced my recent realization that I really don't like live theater. I like the IDEA of live theater, its one of things I always think I like, and then when I go I'm inevitably depressed or disappointed. I saw three Broadway shows this year: Chicago, Rent, and The Producers. While there was a lot to like about all of the performances - the overall feeling I get is that those actors are all such need bags. It doesn't matter what the lyrics or lines actually are, all I can hear them saying is "Love Me, Love Me, LOVE ME!" It's the nature of the theater beast that the acting and movements have to be broad and over-the-top, which I just isn't my cup of tea. I also think that performing the same show over and over every night, and then when its over wondering where your next job is coming from would be a heinous life.

There are other things think I like/I'd live to like/everyone's supposed to like, that I just don't like. Take hanging out in a cafe - it's a lovely idea on paper, but in reality, your coffee will only stay warm for about 20 minutes or so, the smell of coffee grounds gets to you after a while, and the tables and chairs are not all that comfortable.

I wished I liked to garden. I listen to people talk about how much they love to garden and you can't argue with the results. But I don't like dirt or being outdoors in hot weather or the smell of nurseries. I'd like to like Indian Food and mangoes - people who do speak of it as the food of the gods, but very smell of tumeric/curry powder makes me nauseous and I don't like any tropical fruits: mangoes, guavas, papayas.

I have no interest in an iPod, and I think I'm the only person in Ross Valley who doesn't ride a bike.

And call me Scrooge - but Christmas is edging into this category as well. I'm not there yet - there's still a lot I like about the holiday, but as I was making my "to do" list of shopping, baking, wrapping, card-writing and events I was starting to feel very overwhelmed and wondering "what's it all about?" About 1/2 of Max's gifts from last year are sitting on a shelf barely touched for the last 12 months, our living room is unlivable b/c we still have the decorations trunks and storage containers out, there are a few people on my list who I have NO IDEA what to get - which means I'll end up getting them a gift card or sweater or something lame just to get *something*. My emotional connection to the holiday is complicated. My mom's family is Jewish, my father's was Catholic and we grew up celebrating both Hanukkah and Christmas, but I've always felt a little guilty celebrating Christmas. My mom approached it with grudging enthusiasm. She loved baking, making ornaments, decorating the tree and oddly, Handel's Messiah, but it was also very clear that she was only doing it for my brother and I and whatever man was in her life at the time. So part of me is like, "Well don't do me any favors if you're going to hold it over my head like that." I certainly don't believe in Christ the Savior and all that jazz - and it's not infrequent that I take a step back and look at all of the money and marketing of CRAP and am reminded of my favorite line from a movie, "If Jesus were to come back and see what was being done in his name, he would never stop throwing up." I'm try, try, trying to approach it all with gratitude - to remember that the reason I'm so busy is that I've got people in my life and connections that matter. I could be a lonely cat lady with no gifts to buy or parties to attend. But this year more than others it's been a struggle. John's solution is to wean our family off Christmas over to Saturnalia - the Roman Pagan holiday on which Christmas is based. I dig where he's coming from, but I'm not ready to give up X-mas yet or to separate Max from the prevailing culture. Of course, no one is forcing me to bake, send cards or attend parties either - and that's why I'm not a full-fledged Scrooge. I do like doing those things more than not, and there's nothing like finding a great gift for someone - I love that! So we'll see how this all evolves, especially as Max gets older and the magic of the holiday starts to fade...

"You never write"

Yeah, I know - it's been a busy month. My mom's brain surgery went very well - they got out all of the AVM and three weeks later, to see her you'd never know she had brain surgery. It's a testament to the miracles of modern science and a positive attitude. Or maybe it's a little denial? I don't know if it means I'm mentally healthy or emotionally disconnected, but I didn't get emotional or reflective or scared during the whole thing. It was a problem to be taken care of, and we took care of it.

It was nice and also kind of odd to spend so much time in this context with my Uncle Evan and Grandma. They came up here for the surgery and we all stayed at a hotel in Redwood City. For the last 20 years I've seen my extended family at family events: Rosh Hashannah, Passover, Hanukkah and assorted weddings, funerals and milestone birthdays. Spending three days straight at a hotel/restaurants/hospitals was different, but kind of nice. It's a cozy feeling to be with my extended family, even in these strange circumstances. My Grandma is the type who will insist on paying for things and still sends me $ for my birthday even though I'm on the fast-track to forty - I love that taken care of, secure feeling. I'm relieved of grown-up responsibilities for a short time, and it feels good.

After the surgery we had Winterfair at Max's school. It's the annual carnival/fund raiser - games, crafts, food, bouncies, silent auction - the whole Mayberry adorableness that makes Fairfax Fairfax. The Starr Family worked the "Strongman" booth - you know, where you have to swing a hammer and ring the bell? We had a hoot. Max and John were working the crowd like pros - "Step right up, step right up. Impress your girlfriend" and "We have a winner!" We insisted that Max volunteer with us in the booth, even though he was getting kind of antsy toward the end of the shift. But we really felt that he needed to contribute to his school, and that it's not always fun or easy. We spent a lot of time at the event - did all of the games, the luge, bought a lot of used books - I was more than happy to spend the $30 on food and tickets. It's a great way to support the fabulous school and I know this are memories Max will have his whole life. One interesting thing in the silent auction. A family I know casually from school events donated a collection of jigsaw puzzles featuring the artwork of the dad's dad. They included a nice write-up on who he was as an ariists and person. He'd been an artist at Disney as well as well regarded for his own fine art. He died before he got to meet his grandson. I was touched not only because he seemed like such a neat person, but it shows how many stories people have that you have no idea about. I'm so curious about people, and in general pretty friendly - but I have a hard time getting past small talk and chit-chat into "real" conversations about "real" things. It's a skill I'd really like to develop - I'd like to form deeper relationships.

Fast on the heels of Winterfair was Thanksgiving. It was a small group this year - the three of us, my mom and her sister, my Aunt Carol. Of course, we cooked like there were 20 people coming. John can't not have mashed potatoes, I can't not have sweet potatoes (baked plain with a little butter, brown sugar and cinnamon only - none of marshmallow nastiness) and the rest of the adults like stuffing (yuck - grosses me out) and you've gotta have homemade rolls and my once-a-year pumpkin ravioli. Basically the table was a festival of starches with a little turkey thrown in. And cranberry sauce. Man I love that stuff! It was a yummy, relaxed holiday. But a little bittersweet. I'd like to have a larger group, and sometimes I miss having the meal with my family. We haven't gone down for many years, since the time it took us 4 hours to get to Pleasanton. We've always sort of had to cobble something together every year and I'd like to have the comfort of a more constant tradition. I was also a little sad because we'd been invited to friends last year and had a really nice time. But this year - no invitation came. There may be any number of perfectly reasonable reasons why not - but my old, deep insecurities rose to the surface and I once again felt like the friendless odd girl out. I've seen this friend a couple of times and didn't have the... whatever.. too ask about Thanksgiving. I'm going to try to let this snub go, and use it as a learning experience that I need to be more socially generous in the new year.

That same weekend I got together with Daphne for our now-annual crafty/cook-y get together. This years was much more successful than last year's candy-making near-fiasco. We sewed lovely little things and had such a nice afternoon. One of my favorite ways to spend time with people is over doing things. I can dig the appeal of a quilting bee. The old Isaac Mizrahi show on Oxygen had that format. He didn't just do a celebrity interview - he'd talk to people while knitting, playing ping-pong, cooking, shopping - whatever. It make for fascinating talk. I think it breeds easy conversation and it's inspiring to work on a little team toward a shared goal. I'm also more comfortable in a defined rather than open-ended social situation. "Come over and let's bake cookies" is infinitely more enticing to me than "let's hang out."

Continuing the excitement of T-day weekend, we ought a new dining set last Sunday. I found it on Craig's list, natch. A good-looking wood from Ikea, only $200 and seats 8. I've got to shout out to the fabulous Silbert/Vom Bauer family for helping to schlep it from the sellers house. Thems is good people. My plan is for the additional places at the table will inspire more entertaining in 2007.

Which brings us to today. I drove Max and a classmate to a mind-numbingly long and dull performance of The Nutcracker. Max was really fidgiting in his seat toward the end and I can't say I blame him. He also broke the "7" plate that was screwed to the front of his seat. I'll admit I briefly considered pocketing it since it would be a genuine Frank Lloyd Write artifact, but I did the right thing and turned it in to the 104 year old usher. I took a couple of rounds before she understood what the heck I was giving her. The most astounding part of the day was that Max and Liam decided on their own to play "let's see who can be quiet the longest" almost as soon as we pulled away from school and I didn't hear a peep out of them the whole trip. I couldn't believe my luck. Last time I drove with Max and his friends (admittedly, there were three that time) I was ready to get my tubes tied on the off, off chance I might have another kid and have to make multi-kid car trips on a regular basis. Shudder.

The rest of this weekend will be mostly spent setting up Christmas - the tree, the lights, the myriad festoonery.

Thanks to anyone who is still checking in to see if I'm blogging. Even if I've lost my audience I'm going to try to keep up this up - it's a needed brain, heart and soul-stretch.

Add this to the list of reasons to love Marin - beaches are not synonymous with bathing suits. I don't go to the beach very often - but every time I do long pants and a jacket are usually required, which is fine by me.

We were invited by Silke and her family to a BBQ at the beach in Bolinas - to celebrate a few October birthdays (including hers) and just for the heck of it. She and her friend cast a wide, last-minute invitation net and we ended up snaring a perfect group of about 6 families.

The outing didn't get off to the best of starts. Max and I were the first ones to arrive in Bolinas - it was FREEZING and the water came right up to the ramp that lead down to the beach. We hi-tailed it back to the car to wait for Silke and her crew. Once they arrived - it became a lovely day. Silke lead us to a place down the beach that was on higher ground. Max and his buddy Jakob immediately ran off together and I hardly saw him again. I chatted with the other grown-ups, who were all so nice. One couple even brought champagne. Sipping champagne at the beach while eating BBQed oysters - you could do a lot worse than that.

I was chatting with one of the dads, who is a surfer and comes to this beach often with his board. He said when his teenager was little, he and another dad would bring their boys down to this beach and leave them to play while they rode the waves. They'd paddle in and check on them every so often - but for the most part the boys happily amused themselves for hours. Max and the 7 or 8 kids who were there today did the same. They ran around, climbed hills, dug holes, hunted for treasure and once the bonfire was lit - had a blast burning sticks, paper and feathers. There were no sighs of "I'm bored" no clinginess or shyness - I coudln't even get him to stop to eat anything. It's amazing what an open space, a few friends and the wonders of nature can do for a kid - a lot more than the dozens of toys that are taking up space in his room.

We recently donated three big bags of "little toys" (party favors, Happy Meal toys, etc) and another large bag of games. The kid will never miss them. Of the dozens and dozens of toys he still has in his room, he probably only plays with 10-15%. With the holidays coming, there's just so much crap out there that I don't want him to have. I looked through the "Big Book" holiday catalogue from Toys 'R' Us this morning and I felt my soul empty. There was nothing in there I wanted him to have. The toys are all stupid, look like they'd be fun for two seconds, are licensed from brands I'd rather not pump my money into, or are just heinously obscene (RC Hummers for example) The boy doesn't need any of this garbage - he needs more days at the beach, more holes to dig, more hills to climb.

So my mom needs brain surgery. Out of the blue, and very suddenly, she's been diagnosed with an AVM - an abnormal cluster of blood cells. 80% of people who have AVMs never have a problem with them - but she's one of the lucky ones. Really lucky, because when her AVM bled a couple of weeks ago, she got an insane headache and was a little shakey, but that's it. She didn't have a stroke, she didn't loose function, she didn't die.

What I think is remarkable about all of this is her attitude, which is the same as mine, is that she's very lucky, the surgery will not be a piece of cake but it will be over - and she'll get through it. Neither of us are overly stressed or worried. Part of me wonders if I've just inherited her tendency to minimize... everything. She's not one to make a big deal out of injuries or illnesses, and neither am I. Sometimes I think its a lack of compassion, or a defense against "real" feelings. The other part of me thinks is a much healthier response to worry and drama. My experience is that women are much stronger in the face of health crisis then men. As my Aunt Carol said when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, "I cried. I had my treatments. I got over it." I've been very lucky that I never had any medical problems and in the face of one I might not be as strong as I think I would, but even going through my C-section I faced it with the an "I'll get though this" attitude, and I did. And so will she.

So much to comment on over the last few weeks - many of them could make large blog entries on their own, but I think I'll do some speed-blogging and get myself caught up.

L'Shana Tova - Max and I went down to LA for Rosh Hashanah. My Aunt has a big party every year, and by big I mean 200+ people. We went down a day early so that I could help out in the kitchen - she makes a lot of the food herself (OK, with the help of her housekeeper guy) including 350+ stuffed cabbage rolls and 20+ desserts. She is my inspiration as a baker and host. Aunt Ruthy's house (both the current Tudor-style mansion she currently lives in and the ring-a-ding-ding mid-century marvel where she raised her family) house some of the warmest, safest memories of my childhood. Aunt Ruthy is all about being dressed up, warm kitchens with good smells, extended family - aunts uncles and cousins who only appear in dress-up clothes on holidays. It was wonderful to spend time in the kitchen with her, and this year she really needed the help. Her arm and shoulder were giving her a lot of pain, this was the 10th anniversary of Uncle Marty's death, and she lost her older daughter to cancer earlier this year - she needed the physical and emotional support. The rest of the weekend was spent at my Grandma's and visiting with my Uncle Evan, Dina and their kids hayden & Megan - Max has a blast with his cousins and I like giving him the experience of extended family that he doesn't get most of the time.

Happiest Place on Earth - The Starrs + Gramdma went down to LA for the boy's 7th birthday. With the exception of an ill-advised ride on Pirated (the damn thing seems to last for HOURS when you've got a sobbing kid in your lap) the trip was great. When we went two years ago it was very mixy/mixy. The boy had fun, but he didn't LOVE it. I think he would have had just as much fun spending the day looking at tools at home depot, now that, he LOVED. This time, he was much more involved in the rides, the "lands" and the whole travel experience. He loved the shuttle to the airport, every inch of the hotel and went on and on evey day of the trip about "how nice this rentail car (a PT Cruiser) is." There were a million great moments, all four of us hving dinner in recliners in front of a movie-sized screen at the ESPN Zone, the operator announcing Max's birthday while we were riding the rockets, the boy getting DRENCHED at the California Adveture water park (John, you couldn't have taken off his shirt and shoes before you let him in there?) the lost car keys, the 2 hour delay at the airport and the wayward car seat. I think the boy really had a blast, I know I did.

This is Halloween - I LOVE Halloween. We dragged out our decorations this weekend and did up he house. I get suck a kick out of all of the cool stuff I've collected over the years - not the least of which is that it was all purchased at after-Halloween and garage sales cheap, cheap, cheap. I've had to really fight the urge to get a few more things that I've seen in the stores this year, but I've pretty much got every surface in the house decorated with some black or oragnge do-dad, and I don't have much more storage space. The goulish glamour of the holiday gives me such a thrill, I love everything about it. So of course, Max coudn't care less. He has no interest in homemade or clever costumes, he wants to wear the same store bought Batman one he insisted I buy him last year, if anything. He's vetoes many of our decorations deemed "too scary" and is even iffy on trick-or-treating this year, "I have plenty of candy." he says. I'm thinking some of it may be typical and propbably healthy rebellion (Mom loves Halloween so I'm going to assert my independence by not caring) and some of it may be some genuine fear and social anxiety. I'm trying not to make a big deal out of it, but I'll admit I'm dissapointed. I fantasized about making homemade costumes for my kids since before I even thought about having Max, and I'd like him to get excited about it with me. This is another rlesson in parenting - your kids are who they are and will like what they like, there's not much you can do about it.

Even though I HATE the word "meme" with a purple acid passion, I'll take on this one because it seems like fun and the its closest I'll get to blogging tonight:

When you can't post a real entry, meme it!
Two Words:

1. Explain what ended your last relationship.
Still going

2. When was the last time you shaved?
Last month

3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.?
Sleeping in

4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
Reading Blogs

5. Are you any good at math?
Not very

6. Your prom night?
Didn't attend

7. Do you have any famous ancestors?
Jerry Lewis

8. Have you had to take a loan out for school?
Thankfuly, no

9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
Songs Annoy

10. Last thing received in the mail?
Free Cookbooks

11. How many different beverages have you had today?
Just two

12. Do you ever leave messages on people's answering machine?
Usually do

13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
Devo, dude

14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
Stick Pen

15. What's the most painful dental procedure you've had?
Drugless Drilling

16. What is out your back door?
Recycling Buckets

17. Any plans for Friday night?
Movie, Pizza

18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
Yes, submerged

19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns?
Cheddar Rocks!

20. Have you ever been to a planetarium?
Sure have

21. Do you re-use towels after you shower?
Several times

22. Some things you are excited about?
New bedding

23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO?
Cherry please

24. Describe your keychain(s)?
Cow Punk

25. Where do you keep your change?
Scattered About

26. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people?
Cousin's Funeral

27. What kind of winter coat do you own?
Hooded Plastic

28. What was the weather like on your graduation day?
Sunny skies

29. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
Shut tight

.... nothing?
Remember that number from "A Chorus Line?" Yes, I'm too young for "A Chorus Line" but my mom was big into it in the 70's and had the soundtrack on a continuous loop. There's a character who recalls an acting teacher who was very tough on her and tried to get her to access her emtoions, but she couldn't do it - she felt nothing. In the last few lines she learns that the teacher has died, and she finally cries, because she still feels nothing.

I had a similar experience recently. My father, who I had not seen or spoken to in almost 20 years, died. He was a lifelong alcoholic and sometimes drug abuser who allowed his addictions to take precedence over family, friends, or in the end, any kind of a productive life. I heard he was in the hospital the night before he died, and that the prognosis was not good. I thought a lot about whether or not I wanted to go down to LA to see him. I had pretty much decided not to, and then the decision was made for me early the next morning. I came home from work, and I did cry when I talked to his brother about the arangements. His death was not a loss to me, because he was not a part of my life. Learning that he did not clean up is act at all, but in fact sunk further into addiction over the last 20 years, just afirmed that I did the rigt thing my staying away - there was never going to be anything good for me there. Part of me honestly felt a sense of relief. This open wound that was my "relationship" with my father had now closed. I now had a good answer for awkward questions about my family. I no longer have to worry about what I might be morally obligated to do if he were to become infirm or destitute.

The odd thing is is that now that I'm seven years into this parenting thing, I have both more and less sympathy for the chaos my parents created. I understand that being a parent is overwealming, all-encompasing, earth-beneath-your-feet-shaking and awesome financial, physical and spiriual commitment - if you want to do it right. I undertand the urge to take the short cuts, to respond in anger, to not only feel frustration and loss of self and freedom but to act on it. But, for crying out loud you don't give in to that urge! The gift of the tsuris that was my childhood is that I don't take my relationship with Max for granted. I know that I have to earn his respect and love. I try every day to give him the things I didn't have, and to help him become a strong confident man and (hopefully) father some day. I see how much happiness and sense of identity that he gets from being a part of our little family, and it makes me very proud. It would be my great shame and responsibility if I ever created a situation such that Max would feel as little as I do at the death of his parent.

So though I'm usually pretty quick to cry when things get too close to "real" - all of the business around my father's death has been oddly lacking in emotion. I've been able to talk about it with people with much greater ease than I thought I would, and even dealing with things like the cremation details, life insurance, etc. have been routine and easy. The part that have been weird are when I've been assumed, even in a small way, to be in grief. I've gotten a few "sorry for your loss" cards - and I just sort of looked at them curiously and wondered "Is this really for me?" The mortuary woman said, in hushed sympathetic tones, that the county required my address as the official location to which the remains would go. I responded "Oh ick, really!!??" I can tell you that was not the response she expected. (And no, the remains are not actually being sent here thank god. They were picked up by my Uncle and my brother is making plans to take them to Yankee stadium as our father requested.)

Part of me wonders if the other emotional shoe will drop, but I really don't think so. We play the cards we are dealt - and this particular hand has folded.

Good gravy - so much my gung-ho blogging. I guess there's been a lot going on in the past month, and if I'm honest, not the least of which is the start of the new TV season. I love TV. There I said it and I don't care if it gets me kicked out of Fairfax - I LOVE TV! It's one of my favorite ways to unwind at the end of the day and there's a heck of a lot of talent on display if you know where to look for it. I have no patience with the "I don't watch TV" crowd. You watch movies don't you? You read books? I'm sure you're online in one way or another? I think it's snobby and limiting to reject and entire art form and showcase for human creative achievement. For every five "According to Jims" there is a "Nip/Tuck" or a "Lost." You don't avoid reading books because Jackie Collins wrote some? You woudn't reject all recorded music just because Kelly Clarkson put out a CD? That said, there haven't been too many new shows that have reeled me in. I'm sticking with Studio 60 even though I want to smack it in its smug/preachy kisser. Ugly Betty was cute, but I'm not sure where it's going. I've already dropped Vanished. I missed The Nine, but may watch it online. The premier of "Lost" was a heart-stopper and Nip/Tuck ROCKED this week. I love TV.

About a month ago I bought the kid a Happy Meal. Yes, I've read Fast Food Nation and I know all of the reasons Mickey D's is just short of Al Quaida as a threat to the soul of America, but every month or so the kid eats fast food - so sue me. While the kid was munching his fries and looking at his lame Pirates of the Caribbean toy, I noticed the burst on the bottom of the box said that the next Happy Meal promotional toy would be a Hummer. I joked to John that there was nothing more heinous than a Happy Meal with a Hummer toy. "Oh yes there is," he said, "buying it at the McDonalds at Wal-Mart."

Fast forward a month or so. I'm in the East Bay, not far from the airport. School is starting next week and I've been having a heck of a time finding the boy pants that will fit is long legs and skinny butt. I've been to all the usual suspects - Target, Mervyns, Sears, Ross, Marshalls and Macy's and no dice. So I bite the bullet and pull into the parking lot of the Death Star, aka Wal-Mart. The place is a pit, as are all of the Wal-Marts I have ever been in. Crowded, poorly merchandised, garish and full of mass-market crap and shoddy merchandise produced under questionable labor conditions. Yuck.

Still, I soldiered on and to my simultaneous thrill and horror, I found pants that fit perfectly for only $8 and very nice soft all-cotton T-shirts for $3. On the way to the bath room we passed by the and fabric department and I was seduced by extremely cool spider-web tulle for my Halloween costume and Oakland A's fleece Max fell in love with to cover the foam bolster cushions in his room. I had sold my soul for discount fabric and sweat shop trousers, I couldn't wait to get out of there.

The kid had been a trooper through this whole excursion, and was running on fumes. We'd been at Daphne's picnic earlier that afternoon, which was heavy on the "grown up food." I think he'd only had a plate of cantaloupe and a cherry Hansen's soda since breakfast. The child was starving and had spotted the Golden Arches of the in-store McDonalds. So I bought him a Happy Meal. With the Hummer toy. At Wal-Mart.

I probably compromise my supposed values dozens of times a day without giving it much thought. I value hard work, and yet slack off. I value family, yet crave time on my own. I value good food, and eat frozen fish sticks. I know no one is perfect, it's our flaws that make us human, but having values is meaningless unless you hold fast to them when they are challenged. It's my challenge not to give in to the cheap and easy. I'd like to up the ratio of the times that I made the right choice. I'll choose to wake up on time instead od pushing snooze. I'll choose to bring my lunch. I'll choose to walk by the vending machine without buying a Twix. I'll choose to spend a few extra bucks for Max's cloths rather than support Wal-Mart. I'll choose to go to bed at a decent hour. And that hour is now.

Today was just full of them! I felt a little bad this weekend. I was invited to Daphne's picnic to celebrate Terri's PhD and various other good things that had happened recently, and was asked to bring a "good thing" to share. I was having trouble coming up with something. Nothing particularly bad had happened to me recently, nor anything good. I was feeling a little lame.

But today I had a day of one good thing after another. It started at 6:30am. Which, sick as it is, is really sleeping in for me. (I'm usually up at 5:00am) It's Max's first day of 2nd grade, and I got it together to make him pancakes shaped like number "2s." You can hand over the Mom of the Year trophy. I'll borrow a "good thing" from last night too. Max was very nervous about starting school again. He called me into his room and told me he was scared and really didn't want to go. I gave him a hug and told him that it was totally understandable and normal to feel that way, and that there were kids all over San Anselmo and Fairfax hugging their moms and saying that they are scared. And that all the moms are kissing their kids, and saying that it's OK to have those feelings, but that tomorrow would be a great day. And guess what? He bought it. I'm in the running for Mom of the Decade.

You can't not smile at all of the little groups of kids and parents walking and biking to school on the first day. Bright shiny faces, new backpacks, toothless smiles - I love it. As soon as we parked Max again declared that he didn't want to go. But, even before we'd opened the car door, there were people calling out "Hi Max" and "Good Morning Max." He beamed, and lept out to the sidewalk, with his new roller backpack trailing behind him.

He quickly made himself at home in the new classroom. His teacher, Miss Erika, was one of his teachers when he first started preschool 5 years ago. Her son Miles and Max have the same birthday AND by an odd coincidence, her mother and my grandmother volunteer together at Children's Hospital in LA. I couldn't ask for a better match for my kid. He and his pals ran around exploring the silkworms, cubbies and reading loft. He was getting very excited and had no problem with me leaving.

I then got to hang out at the coffee klatch in front of the library with the other parents. It was lovely to see so many people from the Manor School community and catch up. The parents at Manor are so great. Warm, friendly, casual and really embrace values that matter. I'm very blessed that Max is here.

I went home and cleaned, grocery shopped laundered like a white tornado. Its so nice to have a clean house. I even vacuumed!

There's nothing that fills my heart like having Max come running out of his classroom toward me with a big smile on his face. He'd had a great first day. I had no doubt he would. We went to 7-11 for a Slurpee, and then after a quick detour home, went to Peri Park. As we were walking to the park we ran into Cheri Klein and her kids. Max and the Klein girls put on an impromptu show on the new stage. I'm sure you can picture the cuteness.

Max and I then headed to the creek. He had a blast - played with a bunch of kids down in the water and even played fetch with a couple of dogs. A little blond kid with missing front teeth playing fetch in a creek with a dog - it was Tom Sawyer and Norman Rockwell all rolled into one. I sat on the sidelines with my Vanity Fair. In all of the joyous moments I have as a mom, there's nothing that fills my heart like watching my kid having fun with his friends. We ran into a few more friends on the playground. I felt like such a part of the Fairfax community. THIS is why we live here.

Back home, the good things just kept on coming. John made yummy spaghetti for dinner, I had a bunch of fun stuff waiting for me on Tivo, AND I got a royalty check for my book in the mail. If I can take a sec to pat myself on the back, my book is still in print and generating royalties after 7 years. It's sold more than 32,000 copies. I can't quite get my brain around the fact that 32,000 people spent good money on my book, have it in their homes, and use it. Amazing.

At dinner, Max went on and on about how great his first day at school was, and said "I can't wait to go back to school tomorrow." I wish I could repeat today too, kid.

Why am I so reluctant to blog these days? I was so excited when I got started, I had so much I wanted to say and write. But for the past couple of weeks, its seemed like just another chore. What do I have to say? It it funny, meaningful, entertaining? Do I REALLY want to write about X, or Y or X? If I have to force it, what's the point? I'm also doing a lot of self-censoring because people are actually reading this thing. At least I think they are. Are you?

But of course, like almost any task that seems overwhelming, once you actually flippin' DO it it's not only not the big fat hairy pain in the but you thought it would be, but there is actual value and a sense of accomplishment in the effort.

This thought train is headed toward the familiar destination of gratitudeville. The many things I am reluctant to do, or annoyed that I have to do, can (and should) be flipped on their side to reveal an opportunity for grace. The well-oiled-machine-post-work routine was temporarily switched off this when Max spent the week at his Grandma's. I somewhat at a loss as to what to do with my time. I worked a bit late, but was still home by 7 with a good three or more conscious hours ahead of me. John and I had a casual "whatever's in the fridge" approach to dinner, so no meals to make and few dishes to wash. I worked on my photo album the first night, but had a hard time focusing on a "worthwhile" activity. Just reading, surfing or watching TV seemed... so... lightweight. and not as compelling without three hours of energy-sapping activities preceding it. I'm not in the midst of any craft or creative projects at the moment, and I've never been good at "ars gratia artis." I always have to have a *reason* for doing something creative. In the absence of these obligations I'm reminded to be grateful for the chores and activities that give my day meaning and purpose. I am very fortunately to have a wonderful family to make for whom to make dinner. Its my pleasure and privilege to make a a nutritious lunch each day for my amazing son. This sweet house that provides warmth, shelter and a million happy moments deserves to be cleaned and cared for. And I really am grateful for blogging technology that's made this process so easy, and to my friends for inspiring me to do it. Its a wonderful opportunity to reflect, play with words a little, and stay connected to other people, and most importantly, myself.