J Curve, that is.  As in population.

Jack really likes to cuddle at bedtime, so that leaves you with 3 options:

1.) Don’t cuddle, and end up sending him back to bed 100 times.

2.) Cuddle long enough that he is pretty sleepy, but lose all your momentum and forget about anything you planned to accomplish that evening.

3.) Give up and just pass out in his bed.  Hope your spouse has the decency to rouse you before you reach REM sleep.

I was really tired today, so it was agreed that I might as well do bedtime and shoot for option 3.   I fell asleep while Jack was still telling stories.  But his monologue would occasionally pause, and I was slowly brought back into consciousness by the quiet sobbing that was happening in the top bunk.

At the current rate of population growth, things are predicted to be quite terrible on the Earth by the time Luke is 38 and he is seriously worried about it.  I did some kick-ass parenting, as always, and now the kids are in bed with visions of sugar plums or something.  I’m wide awake though, so lucky everyone!  I almost slept through my 30th day of blogging in a row.

So how did I solve the world’s problems?  Oh, just a lesson on sociology, economics, gravity, the atmosphere, photosynthesis, adoption, positive thinking, hugs, kisses, the usual.  And I promised Luke that I would find him some worry dolls.  I think those used to work for me, when I was a 3rd grade worrier.

I had this idea that I would write today about all the things I learned and did over the month of November.  You know, while I was blogging every day and achieving enlightenment.  But then I looked at the calendar and realized that it’s only the 29th.  So I’ll be saving that for tomorrow.

So… Fortunately, Dave is a calm driver, because we were driving in the mountains today when I saw this and screamed.  Apparently, Beard Hat is a real thing.  I accidentally stole the idea, so if you want one, you should buy one from burlybeard.com.  You know you want one!

It’s funny because I have had that darn December Real Simple for weeks, but I have been saving it because I had this idea that I would be curled up by the fire at some point over Thanksgiving, reading magazines and drinking coffee and savoring the moment.  It’s odd that I didn’t have a moment to savor with a magazine until exactly one day after I published my beard hat post.

Family friends food blue skies puppies health bike rides stories games hugs kisses books pie wii presents

Thanks

Chestnuts: Boiled

Cake:baked

French Bread for stuffing: Baked

Hmm – That’s it.  When I started this blog post, I really felt like I was ahead of the game.  Oh yeah, one more thing.

Pie: Purchased!

It’s all the rage in pop culture today to discuss team pie vs. team cake.  Or at least it was two years ago.  Now it’s probably team cake pop vs. team whoopie pie or something.   Regardless, I think it’s pretty obvious that I am on team cake, like any normal, sane person with taste buds, and an appreciation of fine desserts and and aversion to hot fruit.  So you can imagine my horror when my beloved son joined team pie.   When I found out, my emotions ran the usual spectrum, denial, anger, acceptance.  Somewhere along the way I questioned whether I knew before I agreed to marry him, that Dave once requested a birthday watermelon instead of cake.

But here we are.  Days before Thanksgiving, with a fully realized menu that does not include pie.  In fact, I make pumpkin cake.  What to do?  I spent a lot of time thinking of future Luke complaining to future friends about how he loved pie, but his mom refused to make it.  Or future Luke bragging about how his mom’s pie was the highlight of Thanksgiving.  Obviously, I want to come across as the best mom ever in Luke’s future memories.  But I don’t actually want to make a pie this week.  What to do?  What to do?

Then I started wondering why I care so much about future Luke’s memories?  He really doesn’t have that good of a memory.  It’s possible, that as an adult, his only memory of a childhood Thanksgiving will be the time he narrowly avoided being sprayed by Jack’s vomit, because he had the foresight to prop up a big pillow between the two of them for germ free football watching.   In fact, that may currently be his only childhood Thanksgiving memory.  I saw myself developing a plan.  A compromise of sorts.

People. I bought a pie.  Not even a fancy pie from the local organic pie bakery.  It’s a frozen pie.

Luke saw it and jumped for joy.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My baby turned four and I was so sad.  Then I got rid of a ton of toddler toys, and I bundled up a mound of clothes and I was happy again.  Something interesting about the process of giving away toys is that anything that gets anywhere near the giveaway pile is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.  I start off by getting rid of complete sets of things because I hate the straggler pieces.  Then I collect the stragglers and miscellaneous toys and get rid of them. This is why Jack was playing with two different baby phones today, and when Luke grabbed a slinky and pretended it was also a phone, Jack screamed, “NO!  That is exclusively for scuba diving!!!”  Actually, I don’t know why that last part happened.

Jack is experiencing birthday withdrawal, which is compounded by the fact that I bought niece and nephew presents and had them gift wrapped and they are just floating around the car, taunting poor four year old Jack.  I said, “Hey, why don’t I make a pile of toys to give away and suddenly, they will be the most interesting things in the world.”  To this, Jack said, “Will you make me a pile of toys to give away so they will be interesting?”

It’s been a wild ride, these last 5 days as the mother of a child with a pet fish.  But now I can provide the public service of sharing the dos and don’ts  of pet fish death.

Don’t:  Don’t plan to switch it out with a fish that looks nothing like the original fish.

Exhibit A:  Cooper 1

Exhibit B: Cooper 2, my replacement fish purchase

I told Dave via text, that if Jack noticed the new fish, just tell him Cooper had a growth spurt.  Dave said, “I thought our policy was not to lie.”  Well, ok, that actually sounds reasonable, but in my mind the only two options were to lie, or to have an elaborate funeral and at this point, I had already flushed Cooper 1.  (Side note, it was Saturday and Cooper had already been dead for 2 days.)

So I decided to go with Plan C and just not to say anything.    Now that it is Sunday, Cooper 2 is in his tank and acclimated, and I thought Jack should feed him.  Here’s how it went.

Jack: Is that a new fish.

Me: Yes

Jack: I liked the old one better.

And scene.

So, with the death of a fish, you could two ways.  One is to by a new fish and act like it’s no big deal.  Two, flush the fish, clean the tank, get rid of all evidence that there was ever a fish.  I might try option 2 next time, I’ll keep you posted.  I really like Cooper 2 though.