The more they know, the less they show.

1. Lucy will now change into her pajamas without assistance, but only if I leave the room and agree with her that the change happened "by magic."

2. Henry was desperate for the neighbor to come over to play, and then when the boy got here all he wanted to do was play his DS.

3. Both kids thoroughly enjoyed our house guest - my former roommate. Henry followed her lead and slept with an eye mask, while Lucy just followed her around the house.

4. Lucy got a kiddie yoga DVD from Santa and yesterday and today we did some of it together. I was sweating by the end. She is very fond of the friendship flower pose because she gets to hold my hand.

Lazy Link Dump

I haven't stopped writing reviews, but haven't mentioned it in awhile.

I say nice things about my friend Daryle in the VenusZine staff faves here.

I am less kind, but fair, to Animal Collective here and probably overly generous to Cars and Trains over here (both at Donnybrook). Almost forgot about Vic Chestnutt and Elf Power too, way over here, also at Donnybrook.

Some Civil Servants are just like my loved ones

Now that President Obama has his dream job, I should really start thinking about finding one of my own.

I've never had a job that I've really loved or been devoted to. I can't imagine what such a job would be either.

It dawned on me recently that I have a commitment problem when it comes to choosing a career. In that way I'm not so much different than my single friends who have their own issues with committing.

Consider the evidence:

1. I'm picky. I don't want just any job where I mentally punch in, punch out and have to put forth very little effort.

2. I have unreasonably high expectations. I want to love the job and the job to love me back. I also want good benefits, a lot of vacation time, and to not have to feel guilty when I take time off to hang with my kids.

3. I'm in a long-term (going on three years now) relationship with a gig that doesn't pay me anything.

I could really use an employment yenta.

Cultural Commentary from Henry

1. Yesterday Lucy was excited to see some Barbie-esque dolls on TV. As she's oohing and aahing over them, Henry turned to me with his eyes rolled and said, "She's asking for dolls from High School Musical 3." This is especially funny since neither of my kids has seen or heard any part of the High School Musical series -- but it doesn't stop them from having opinions. When they are old enough you can be sure I'll watch the South Park version with them.

2. As he was getting dressed in the morning a commercial for Hotel for Dogs came on. He said, "Mom, I don't think Hotel for Dogs is appropriate. I think there is romance. (pause) Between humans!" So I said, when do you think it would be appropriate. He struggled for a moment before answering, "12."

3. He was pissed because his school had an assembly that featured Glenn Colton who he angrily described to Cary as a performer who plays "popular country, not real country" music. I'm also almost positive that Henry has never heard Hank Williams or Patsy Cline, but he's always had a very sensitive schlock meter.

There is no frigate like a book

It dawned on me last night as I finished Death Comes for the Fat Man by Reginald Hill that I stopped reading when Henry was born because reading simply took me too far away from the present moment.

It's a relief to be able to get lost in a book again, even if Cary interrupts me every so often to make me watch a hockey replay.