mamapants

Norah has a copy of the Jerry Garcia/David Grisman Not for Kids Only CD, and I can't get that darn "Arkansas Traveler" song out of my head. To all my pregnant friends out there: it's a cute CD, but be ready for obsession on a level with "It's a Small World" and "Tubthumping." Or maybe that last one's just me.

ANYWAY. Hello! Indiana was rosy, as only Indiana can be - I picked up a pile of my old kid stuff and was pleasantly transported down memory lane. Several old yearbooks and prom photos rose to the top of the flotsam, making me wonder how my hair stayed like that (god save our noble Aqua Net) and how I ever managed to find a date in high school. You should see the dating pool - shallow is just not the word. Yikes.

We're back, at least for the moment, until Norah runs (!!!yes runs my lord how that child can run!!!) off somewhere else. We'll actually be here for the next couple of weeks, until vacay in western NC, which will end with the spreading of my grandfather's ashes. The original plan was to take him to an island somewhere, but my grandma got a little skeeved about how much that would cost (understandably - it would have been like buying a new car to take us all down there) and so we're headed to their mountain house. He's going into the lake behind it, where we used to fish out golf balls and sell them to him for a nickel apiece. I still have one - I can't decide if I should keep it or send it with him, sort of an Egyptian pack-for-the-afterlife kind of thing.

Congratulations to a certain friend of mine who has found herself In the Family Way - welcome to the club, and prepare yourself... Norah ate 4000 grapes and a turkey sandwich today before screaming "Crickets! CREEEE-KITS!" (what that meant I have no idea, because there were no crickets to be found and as far as I know she's never been within 15 feet of one, but did we scream it oh yes we did!) and running off into the other room. She's also learned how to turn on the hose, activate the trash compactor, and take her clothes off, which she does with reckless abandon and no thought about where she is or what law enforcement officials might be nearby to remove this naked child from my possession. She's a lunatic, Anne, and you are destined to have your own little lunatic, because you lived with me and my lunatic child-vibe has almost certainly rubbed off onto you at some point.

And how you will love it! Enjoy, sunshine.

Posted in: emotional, Norah, secret messages on 8/10/2006 at at 8:45 PM