Cover Girl

A couple of Saturdays ago, Mike took the twins to an open house at the volunteer fire department. A photographer from the local paper took Lauren's picture and she ended up on the cover of a weekly newsletter. Click on the picture to see the publication.

Am REALLY trying to figure out ...

what my kids' fascination is with putting pants on their heads?!!

A more literal way to drive us crazy

Our neighbors' daughters outgrew their Barbie Jeep, and Lauren and Maddie were the beneficiaries. Lauren is quite proud of her newfound ability to do doughnuts in the front yard. Maddie has mixed emotions about being a passenger during Lauren's excursions. She's getting a very early preview of what it might be like as a parent to ride shotgun with a child who needs steering practice.

Lauren got a crash course in some of the rules of the road. Steering and talking on her telephone are not a great mix, for example ...

... and might lead to a fender bender. (No harm done, Auntie Julie!)

Quality Parenting Moment #92731

First sentence in the note from Leah's school speech pathologist: "She was singing about beer today." Luckily the second sentence was, "Hilarious."

Once again, we have The Simpsons to thank. Some might think Mike and I should be smacked upside the head for leaving the stash of Simpsons episodes on the TiVo (and for adding to them, since we still have a Season Pass). In our defense, any parent of an autistic kid will tell you that willingly getting rid of something that is motivating to your child is about as smart as flushing money down the toilet.

Leah's current favorite is the season premiere, in which Homer finds himself on Mr. Burns' deluxe corporate jet after saving him from a mall fountain. Lionel Richie provides onboard entertainment, and obligingly performs a version of "Say You, Say Me" in which he substitutes the word "beer" for all of the lyrics. Get the tune in your head and then sing along: "Beer, beer. Beer, beer. Beerbeerbeerbeerbeer ..." You get the idea. Last night, during her end-of-day stim time with the remote control in our bedroom, she was practically rolling on the floor. Needless to say, she used her thorough working knowledge of the remote to rewind that scene a bunch of times. Seeing Leah crack herself up that completely was pretty hilarious to watch, so a vicious cycle was born. Leah sang, dissolved in laughter, and then started over again when she caught us giggling at her.

Clearly she decided to entertain the troops at school also. We are, of course, thrilled that she chose to show off this new routine to a building full of mandated reporters. I wonder if she also tried her second-favorite line from that episode, which cracks her up almost as much as the beer song. She greeted me with it when I walked into the bedroom to see what all the laughter was about, and I can imagine her using it when she gets off the bus:

"My name is Svetlana."

Waking up the echoes

Heather and I were thrilled to be present for Notre Dame's first (and sadly, still only) victory of the season. Young Jimmy Clausen maintained his perfect record -- he is now 45-0 in Southern California, as our friend Doug pointed out after the game. While I am a huge fan of The House That Rock Built -- I have many happy memories there of yelling myself hoarse and ducking flying oranges (I was there at the zenith of the Notre-Dame-Miami rivalry) -- clearly Notre Dame should look into renting the Rose Bowl for the remainder of the season. It might also help if Heather and I were to take hiatuses (hiatii?) from our regular lives and follow the Irish, perhaps in a state-of-the-art RV with Onward to Victory painted on the sides in blue and gold. Since ND's only win this season occurred in our presence, it seems it's the least we can do to help the team.

Besides, continued tailgating involving jello shots might produce more pictures of Heather that look like this:

I. Hate. The Vikings.

I am in the throes of post-suicide pool depression, having once again been eliminated from Dave Renbarger's annual march to riches. Sigh. No more fantasies about the $1,600+ pot. My bookmarks pertaining to the latest NFL lines will go unused until next year. Sigh.

The architects of my despair this year are, once again, the Minnesota Vikings. I have two teams I avoid picking like the plague -- the Vikings and the Carolina Panthers. Both have failed me on more than one occasion in the past. But apparently I need to avoid any game in which the Vikings are playing, not just the ones they should be able to win. Yesterday they beat the Bears with a last-second field goal and once again sent my suicide pool season into the toilet. And of course, the other two teams I contemplated picking won easily. I hope it's the last game the @%*& Vikings win this season.

A (very small) consolation prize -- I do have minor family bragging rights, since Mike was eliminated a few weeks ago. In the end, however, we both won the same thing: Nothing. Our bank accounts are equally empty.

Quality parenting moment #86342

I was driving home late one afternoon with only Lauren in the car, sitting in the seat directly behind me. I could see the top of her head bobbing in my rearview mirror and suspected she might be falling asleep. I asked her, "Lauren, are you awake?" A dumb question, given who I was talking to, since Lauren is the child who currently declines to speak above a whisper. I couldn't hear her, couldn't see her if I wanted to keep my bumpers in roughly the same shape they were in when I left the house, and for some reason, at that moment, I really wanted to know whether she was awake. I decided to ask her to demonstrate a newly acquired skill.

I said, "Burp if you're awake."

She complied.

OK, I'm sorry

REALLY sorry for all of the clothes I refused to lend you growing up, and for the time I clocked you over the head with a toy guitar, and the time my friend and I signed most of the pages in your autograph book, and for any insensitive sisterly commentary on any subject, including but not limited to braces, hair, facial imperfections, clothing, friends, dating, or choice of hair products.

I'm going to back away slowly now.