There are milestones that occur in a child's life that are never covered by the pediatrician, and we experienced one of them tonight: the sleepover. Now, Lil' Puddin' Tater is nowhere NEAR ready to spend the night at a friend's house. But when she and the little girl next door came to me after playing for a couple hours and informed me that "Hey! Guess what! J can sleep over!" my stomach did a little flutter and I realized (perhaps even more than her first day of school) that my wee one, my first born, is growing up.

Of course, she being my first born, my Lil' Puddin' Tater, I should have known that the evening would not go as I planned. Everything began well enough, with the requisite pizza for dinner, then playing, then a movie before going to bed. We made up the couch in gnome sheets, with a girl at each end and lots of fluffy covers. We made popcorn, and I had to tell them a thousand times to be quiet. I went into my bedroom and told D that the midgets in the living room were to be sleeping in 45 minutes. Deviance from this would be acceptable (I'm not some wretched mother) as long as they stayed on the couch. Talking, giggling, etc. were all acceptable behaviors.

Then the shit hit the fan, and I feel like a tool for being blindsided by it. Ok, first a little background: Friday nights are "Girls' Night" in the house with the blue door. Midget 2.0 goes to bed, D is working or out with friends, and LPT and I stay up late and watch cartoons (Ok, we watch Hannah Montana.) and give each other manicures and pedicures and make popcorn and talk. Most importantly, LPT is permitted to sleep in our bed, and D sleeps in hers. It is truly a Girls' Night. In the morning, we all make cinnamon rolls together and bask in the glow of momentarily being a picture-perfect family.

Anyway, when the time came for LPT to actually sleep, she kind of flipped out and wanted to sleep with me. D told her no, that she had a guest and that they could either sleep on the couch or they could go upstairs and sleep in her room. LPT started crying, quietly. I had no clue any of this was going on (maybe I dozed off?) but I heard them go up the stairs. I thought that the girls had gotten up and were going to play. I yelled "Lil' Puddin' Tater?" up the stairs. This was not the correct thing to do. LPT realized that Mom was awake and could save her from mean ol' Dad. So she really loses her shit and cries even harder, and then the inevitable happens. She coughs, then pukes on the floor of her room 4 times. At that point, I hauled her into the bathroom, where she threw up again, in the toilet. D took J home and I got LPT in the tub because she had vomit all up in her hair.

Yes, I hate cleaning up puke. Yes, it still reeks up there. (washing the room down with vinegar is tomorrow) And as soon as I had everything cleaned up and had successfully gotten LPT to sleep (7 minutes! a new record!) and had gotten back into my bed with a book, Midget 2.0 realized that it was his turn. Luckily, that was a brief and not-stinky endeavor. But there's a part of me that is a little bit happy that LPT isn't quite ready for sleepovers yet. I get to hold on to my girl for a while longer.

AND! Reading Rainbow, one of the staples of my childhood and near the top of my list of Favorite Kid Shows, is over. Let's sing the song one last time, and I know that you all know the words:

I have decided that I'm going to "go green" with my lunches. I found a tutorial to make reusable snack bags here (why can't I reuse regular snack bags, you ask? Because they're thin and they rip and then it's just not worth it, and by that point I'm so frustrated I just need to sit down with a drink.) THEN I found a tutorial for a reusable sandwich wrap and got all excited. I'll post pics if I actually get around to making them. (I know myself. There have been plenty of things I was dying to make that are not in existence.) I'll also post a pic of Lil' Puddin' Tater exhibiting her disapproval of said bags and wraps. She's turned into a teenager at the age of 5, and she can be (forgive me) quite bitchy at times. Oy. And no comments about her being just like her mother, thankyouverymuch.

Going out for the best food ever tonight with the ladies. Mmmm mojito.

It's fall here. Granted, it will be 81 degrees this afternoon, but the mornings are definitely fall. I actually had to turn off the fan in my office because I was cold. Do you realize how rare this is? I don't get cold. Ever. Usually I sweat.
But! The arrival of the autumnal winds means that there are events on the horizon that will be absolutely gobs of fun: The Light the Night Walk (to benefit the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society), the St. James Art Fair (everything is incredibly expensive, but it's a lovely walk through Old Louisville and St. James Court), A's bridal shower and subsequent wedding! Of course, after that we're thrust head on into The Holiday Season and my head begins ramping up to it's inevitable explosion, usually occurring somewhere around Christmas Eve. This year, though, I get to add the task of providing snacks for Lil' Puddin' Tater's class the week before school lets out for winter break. So, let's see: 26 kids x 5 = 130 little foodstuffs and juice boxes. Jeebus.

Speaking of school, today was amazing. Last week, I was still walking Lil' Puddin' Tater into her classroom, a habit frowned upon by the administration, and rightly so: the kids get more worked up the the farther into the school the parents go. On Thursday, I spent 25 minutes trying to calm Lil' Puddin' Tater down enough to go in and sit down. Now, I am not one of those parents who "need" to leave but then continue to say goodbye for an hour, and secretly love it when the kids flip out. No. However, I am a mom who hates to see her daughter start the day sobbing with a possibility of throwing up. So I let D take her the next day, thinking it had something to do with me dropping her off. Nope. SAME THING. But today! We had a plan! We would wait in a different-from-normal spot for a friend to arrive, then they would walk in together. I was hoping this would minimize the tears, but boy was I surprised when M pulled up, got out, and LPT took her hand and said "Bye Mom!" over her shoulder as she walked in to the school. I stood there for a minute, trying to comprehend what had just happened; did this actually mean that I successfully dropped Lil' Puddin' Tater off with no consternation? No feelings of guilt? I could just leave? It was a heady experience, let me tell you.
See all these vegetables and fruits? Everything except the strawberries is what we brought home from The Farm yesterday. We picked all these ourselves. And see that big tomato in the middle? The purple-y one? That there is the best damned tomato you'll ever eat, bar none. (it's a Cherokee Purple, and I'm going to keep some seeds and see if I can grow some next year. They're that good.)

This weekend I was able to spend time with J, one of my best friends ever. We're quasi-related (my uncle won't make an honest woman out of her mom) and former roommates, so I kind of consider her a sister. Anyway, we went to the farmer's market on Saturday (a thousand noms, and one of the most influential teachers I had in high school has a booth there!) and then we spent Sunday finalizing an outfit for an upcoming interview on Friday (hers, not mine, and the job is PERFECT for her.) On Saturday she had gone with another friend and tried on an insane number of ill-fitting power suits, cursing the fact that she's one size on the top and another size on the bottom. Basically, buying off-the-rack she could have insanely tight pants and a nicely-fitting jacket, or perfect pants and a jacket that made her look like a little kid playing dress-up. On the other end of the spectrum, one store tried to put her in a short-sleeved/cap-sleeved/sleeveless suit. For an interview! Luckily, she had another friend with her who made her opinion abundantly clear to the salesperson: we don't need trendy, kthanxbai. But Ann Taylor (as always!) came to the rescue. She found a dress and jacket that don't come as a set, and I think she struck the perfect balance between appropriate attire and showing a bit ofher unique personality. Thus, I give you The JH Interview Ensemble:










And she hasn't chosen her shoes yet, but basic black pumps should do the trick. [and i swear that I am a complete tool then it comes to posting pictures. I apologize for the utter wonkiness.)

In other news, Midget 2.0 has officially become a biter. Against all better judgement he bit his sister this weekend, ON PURPOSE and VERY HARD. I'm surprised, frankly, that she didn't whack him upside the head. But there were tears all around, of course from LPT, but also from M2.0 as soon as he realized he was in T-R-O-U-B-L-E. I can't wait for preschool, when I'll get concerned phone calls nightly from parents, wondering why their Little Precious has been rendered nothing more than a teether for M2.0's purposes.

So one of the significant drawbacks (or benefits? or maybe just facts?) of working for your stepfather while having your mother provide childcare at their home is that when something unexpected comes up (like, say, your 24 year old stepbrother is ill and decides he wants to be with his father, thus rendering the aforementioned residence off-limits to ankle-biters) you have to bring one or both of the midgets into the office with you. Now, in the past, this hasn't been a big deal at all. Lil' Puddin' Tater has lots of "work" to do, and now that she can write and is learning to read, I can give her endless activities to accomplish while I do actual work and speak to actual clients. And for an idyllic, halcyon (my word of the day calendar pays off! finally!) time, Midget 2.0 could come into the office and it was truly like he wasn't even there. But, friends, that time is OVER. He's able to ambulate, get in to all sorts of trouble with seemingly innoculous objects, and yell REALLY LOUD. And he refuses to sleep. I kind of understand, because, hey, if people you like are doing potentially cool stuff, you don't want to sleep through it! You want to be in the middle! Helping!

All of this is made worse when I have to bring M2.0 in unexpectedly. Like this morning - I'm unshowered, I overslept, and my clothes need to be washed again. I feel like ass and someone turned off the a/c in my office overnight so it's humid and hot as hell in here. M2.0 refuses to drink his cow juice or sleep and is now in the boss's office and from what I can hear, he's attenpting to make phone calls while taking the heater/air conditioning unit apart, singlehandedly.

I feel like M2.0 will associate this office with an utterly bitchy version of his mother, since I'm constantly trying to keep him quiet, away from office supplies, and out of the boss's office if there's a phone call.

and I missed my coffee.

Completely wonderful filing kit from the Office of the Tooth Fairy. Apparently, these "Official Certificates of Record have increased speed and efficiency of [their] filing capabilities by 47%." Good to know that they're trying to keep costs down.

Via Poppytalk (coolest blog ever): three FREE giftwrap designs. Generosity is a fabulous thing. [And you should also check out Poppytalk Handmade, the main website, for all sorts of spiffy finds.]

30 Rock is completely ripping off The Muppet Show. Thank you, Brian Lynch.

It's dark outside today, at 10 in the morning, which gives the distinct feeling that I should not be at work, that I'm actually supposed to be elsewhere, like cooking dinner or giving the ankle-biters a bath. Speaking of cooking, last night we had a couple of friends over (D&S) and we really "put on the dog" - we had pork tenderloin and the best mashed potatoes ever (I can say that because it's not my recipe at all) and green beans, then for dessert we had Boston Cream Pie. NOMS. It's funny; when we have people over, cooking is no big thing. We do it, it usually tastes pretty good, and we clean up after. When it's just us, dinner consists of M2.0 eating some of whatever I'm having (usually cereal), LPT eats a sandwich if I can talk her into it, and D winds up making something completely gross, like hotdogs with cheese in them.

oh. my. gosh. Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up, are feeling really productive, but then hit a wall around lunchtime? (Maybe I need some Emerald Nuts...) Oy. I've had to be very conscious of the weight of my head, because it keeps gravitating to my desk. It's the kind of sleepy where if you can just close your eyes for five minutes, everything will be fine. Then you wake up two hours later, confused and probably with drool all over your cheek.

Tomorrow I'm going with the ladyfriends to try on bridesmaid dresses for A's wedding. But I'll have to make my undergarment choices carefully. I'll have to wear Spanx (naturally) and possibly wrap myself head-to toe in spandex/lycra, to create a more smooth base so that all the taffeta, tulle, satin and organza will lay more nicely and not cling to every bulge and dimple. Oy again. But, at least I'll have my support group with me, and I am completely confident that no one will let me purchase something atrocious. Right, ladies?

Had a most uncomfortable lunch today with Mother regarding religion and Lil' Puddin' Tater. I'll spare you all the gory details, but the conversation did involve phrases like, "She's my daughter. I will raise her as I see fit," "I know you think you're right, but you're so wrong," and "You're doing Lil' Puddin' Tater a disservice by not embracing this." Yeah. It was unpleasant, but I think the she got the message, and now we'll just have to slink into our respective corners and lick our wounds for a day or so. I won't lie, many things that were said stung a bit.

The new iPhone update comes out on the 17th. I am counting the minutes.