We've just about survived another February

Which brings to mind one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books by one of my favorite authors:

(Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins)

They say that February is the shortest month, but you know they could be wrong.

Compared, calendar page against calendar page, it looks to be the shortest, all right. Spread between January and March like lard on bread, it fails to reach the crust on either slice. In its galoshes it's a full head shorter than December, although in leap years, when it has growth spurts, it comes up to April's nose.

However more abbreviated than it's cousins it may look, February feels longer than any of them. It is the meanest moon of winter, all the more cruel because it will masquerade as spring, occasionally for hours at a time, only to rip off it's mask with a sadistic laugh and spit icicles into every gullible face, behavior that grows quickly old.

Febuary is pitiless, and it's boring. That parade of red numerals on its page adds up to zero: birthdays of politicians, a holiday reserved for rodents, what kind of celebrations are those? The only bubble in the flat champagne of February is Valentine's Day. It was no acident that our ancestors pinned Valentine's day on February's shirt: he or she lucky enough to have a lover in frigid, antsy February has cause for celebration, indeed.

Except to the extent that it "tints the buds and swells the leaves within" February is as useless as the extra r in it's name. It behaves like an obstacle, a wedge of slush and mud and ennui holding both progress and contentment at bay.

If February is the color of lard on rye, its aroma is that of wet wool trousers. As for sound, it is an abstract melody played on a squeaky violin, the petty whine of a shrew with cabin fever. O February, you may be little but you're small! Were you twice your tiresome length, few of us would survive to greet the merry month of May.

Cake is not lunch

OK, sometimes cake can be lunch, but not for 3 and 4 year-olds.

I took Zoë to a birthday party this morning -- the second party this month I must add. The party started at 10:30 and was to end at 12. That's a little shorter than the usual party, but that didn't bother me. What did bother me was that after we did t-shirt painting and then the birthday girl opened her presents (note to self: do not open presents at party) we went into the dining room for cake and juice boxes. No lunch was served. There was some fruit and muffins in the kitchen, but that was supposedly for the parents. Is it just me who thinks giving their kid cake before lunch is a bad idea???? I don't get it.

A day well spent

There is something so satisfying about a day well spent. I took a personal day today and I:

• slept late


• took the train to NYC


• visited very good friend and her very handsome new baby boy


• went to the Much exhibit at MoMA


• bought excellent boots on sale

Said boots:

My new nephew!

Welcome Joseph David!
born: 02/17/06, 7:16 am, 7lbs. 110z., 20 inches

Does the food fall on the baby?

Zoë often asks me the most interesting questions.

Today while I was driving her to school we were talking about my sister-in-law, her aunt, who is about to have a baby. Zoë asked me this question:

Mommy, when Aunt Brenda eats, does the food fall on the baby?

I could tell by the way she asked that she had really been thinking this one over. And when you think about it, that is a perfectly reasonable question since for months we have all been telling her that Aunt Brenda has a baby growing in her belly.

Made for Saturday Night Live

Is it just me or are you also having a hard time mustering up sympathy for Harry Whittington? (The guy our V.P. accidentally shot.)

The writers for Saturday Night Live couldn't have dreamed up something this great, but at least they have fantastic material for this week's show.

Although, I think Jon Stewart already beat them to it. The Daily Show was absolutely hysterical last night. I was laughing so hard I was crying. I tivo'd it and watched it all over again right away. I plan to watch it again tonight.

It seems like we just had...

...an entire winter's snow all at once! Yikes!

I am hopeful that we've gotten it all overwith in one fell swoop.

It's always Thursday

When I was in college my roommate used to say that it was always Thursday.

She was right. If it isn't actually Thursday, it will be Thursday tomorrow or it was Thursday yesterday. Thursday is a good day and a great night for happy hour. (Not that I've been to happy hour since I got pregnant, but I used to have a really great time at happy hour.) Even Thursday night TV is usually good.

I guess once you make it to Thursday you've basically made it through the week and you stop paying attention to what day it is until Monday. No one wants to think too much about Monday. You shoulder up to the grindstone for another week and wait for Thursday to roll around again when you can start to feel the pressure lift off a bit and start thinking about the weekend. And it starts all over again.

Selective hearing

I was talking to a friend today who has a daughter almost the same age as Zoë and we were complaining about how challenging this age can be. I told my friend that I was seriously considering getting Zoë's hearing checked because I could be standing right in front of her and talking right to her face and yet she will seemingly not hear me at all. Not hear me at all. It is an amazing thing. The other thing Zoë will do is say "what, Mom?" repeatedly. This is how it usually goes:
"Zoë put the that down."
no response
"Zoë, I said put that down. Do you hear me?"
"What, Mom?"
"Put that down."
"What, Mom?"
"Are you listening? I said put that down."
"What, Mom?"
"Is it that you can't hear me or you don't understand what I am saying?"
"I hear you."
"What did I say?"
"I don't know."
blowing top now "I said put that down! Put it down now!"

I know it sounds inane bordering on the impossible, but this is true.

Anyway, the good news is I can hold off on the hearing check -- and hold onto my $20 co-pay -- because my friend's daughter does the same thing and she really did get her hearing checked and she was fine.

hospitals

Sunday night my father-in-law was taken to the emergency room at 3 AM. There's nothing like that middle of the night phone call to start your heart, huh? Actually I thought it was going to be my brother or sister-in-law. My sister-in-law is due with her second baby in about a month so it is not out of the question. Anyway, my father-in-law is now doing OK. He seems to be suffering some complications from the painkillers he takes regularly. They are keeping him in the hospital for at least another night, but I am happy to say he should be going home soon. It was a really good scare though. My father-in-law is 83 and not in the best of health. I wonder at times like these how my husband will deal with his inevitable passing.

And in related news, my boss went in for his surgery today. He has colon cancer and they went in to remove the tumor and probably a pretty large chunk of his intestines as well. I finally just got an email from his mother saying he is out of surgery. I think recovery will be tough for him, but I never saw someone with an attitude better than his. All the time that he has been going through this I think I only saw him visibly down once. Amazing.

I hate hospitals.

6 more weeks of winter

Phil, I even said please. When's the last time you predicted an early Spring anyway?

I have decided not to believe you this year.

Anyway, I'd rather believe that my buying a new winter coat and new snow boots ensured a winter with minimal snow.

Dear Punxsutawney Phil

I hope you're having a restful winter. Please don't see your shadow tomorrow.

Sincerely,
ZoesMom

Happy Birthday Husband!

Today is my husband's 40th birthday. It's kind of weird to think that my husband is 40. That sounds so grown up! And I don't really think of either of us as grown-ups. He seems to be taking it pretty well in stride. He was a little distressed about it in the weeks leading up, but I think he's over it by now. I think I'd like to keep him around for at least 40 more birthdays.