Will you be here next Halloween?

My snobby weekend turned into something completely different than what had been planned.

The plan was to be off Saturday, take a bus to the Lehigh Valley, do a photo shoot, see old friends, smother my niece and nephew in kisses for six hours, and head home.

What actually happened was just as wonderful, and maybe better except for the absence of my niece and nephew.

Since I worked on Saturday, I was able to have off for Sunday. A real Sunday.

I tried to go to Kristen's (my sister) anyway, but her power was out from the snow storm, so I listened to God and went to my own church.

I talked all day inbetween services, spending the day with the family that has newly adopted me. I got home early enough to fall asleep early and wake up rested on a Monday for once.

But that's not what happened.

The cursed insomnia is back. I spent two hours lying there pretending to be asleep, hoping that I could fool my body into thinking it was really asleep so that perhaps it would still feel rejuvenated.

When my alarm went off this morning I reset it three times and then decided to kill it.

Instead of killing it, I just manned up and got dressed. I thought about wearing my witch stockings and skirt, or my adorable peacock outfit, but I didn't have the energy for either and I was freezing, which is weird, because I'm rarely cold.

I ignored the tiny voice in my head that suggested that perhaps the hint of a cold I'd been fighting all last week had finally caught up with me.

I've been taking 1200% of the daily value of vitamin C required in an adult. Today was no different, but somewhere around midafternoon my immune system gave up.

I gave the kitchen it's Monday Mopping, half-heartedly and I put the baby down for his nap. Then I stared at the dishes in the sink until R got home. After T picked her up for Hebrew school I stared at the dishes some more.

T's mom brought R back home and we sat around reviewing the alphabet and talking about Halloween. She asked when we were going trick-or-treating and I reminded her that she had gone twice already, yesterday with her parents and today at school. She insisted that since today was actually Halloween we should go trick-or-treating. I said I couldn't agree more and told her that there was a time when people celebrated holidays on the actual holiday but that time has long gone and we need to mourn it properly and then move on.

"Ok." She said, not at all sure what the heck I was talking about. "But what about next year?"

"We will go trick-or-treating again next year but we still have to go whatever day they tell us to."

"Ok." She agreed again. "And will you be here next year?"

"Yes." I promised, so now it's official. And I suppose I can just be a peacock next year...

I don't now how or when, but the dishes got washed and I made dinner after T called to say she was running late and she had J with her. I fed the other two and threw them in the tub.

Then I sent them to T and vanished.

I searched the kitchen for fever reducer, took another vitamin C for good measure and argued with myself about having a glass of wine. The verdict is in: I'm going to have one. If anything will ensure that I sleep tonight it's rich people merlot.

I don't feel snobby at all tonight, I feel chilly. Wednesday, come quickly!

Rescheduled.

Baby I is sitting beside me right now and every few seconds he pats my arm to get my attention and goes, "Mimi! Mimi!" likes it's really important and then when I say "WHAT?" he just smiles and babbles something and pinches me.

He's really very sweet.

Today is as miserable as predicted. Rain, cold, wind, rain, sleet, snow, sleet, rain, sleet...need I continue?

My wonderful day trip to Pennsylvania was cancelled until further notice. I opted to work today rather than sit in bed and lose a days' pay. So now I'm getting paid to have slept in until after nine, sat around playing on Facebook all morning, half-heartedly fed the kids pancakes and now babysit the baby while the others are at a birthday party.

I love my job.

Last night was Shabbat dinner at T's sister's house. The baby was in an incredibly bad mood from the moment we left our house so the night was full of screaming and forcefeeding and other fun games.

We left there at 9:30 but we drove around until 10:30 to make sure all the kids were good and asleep. We drove through the neighborhoods around here and gawked at houses. Huge houses. Some beautiful. Some really, really not.

T has her eye on a particularly showy mansion.

We had intended to leave R behind to sleepover with her cousins and during our slow drive home she called and said she had changed her mind and wanted to come home.

E narrated how importatnt it was that she know she can always call her parents and they will always get her and then as we pulled up in front of the house again he said, "Ok, Kimmy, go get her." And we all laughed. Then he said, "I'm funny, right?"

"Yes, you're very funny."

T went to get her.

They are funny. They had an argument, a real one, last week and while I kept going about my work they kept going about their disagreement. And then T went, "Right, Kimmy?"

And I nearly died laughing.

I took her side but couldn't actually think of any defensive arguements for her. Anyway, it was all very funny and at the end of it they were laughing and the argument was over.

I found out this week that T speaks Spanish in addition to the Farsi that runs in the family. She is trilingual! She had hired a cleaning company for my basement and they didn't show up. She called another company and the same thing happened. This really happens in New York. HOW ANNOYING IS THAT?

So she called a woman who cleans houses, a private self-employee. The woman only speals Spanish so T made all the arrangements and she was supposed to come yesterday but she is now coming on Tuesday instead. I hope.

We are trying to get the basement fixed up in time for J's birthday party on the
20th. Since the lights have been put in and the calls have been made to get the other service people in here we are all having very high hopes for completiong of the basement to be really soon.

I might actually order the garment rack that they are getting for me and put all my clothes away. Or I might continue to sleep with half of my wardrobe. We shall see.

E found Jiminy Cricket and splattered him. Thank goodness. There has been no cricket chirping in my room for the last few days.

As for the upstairs, the main floor never has any news, but it turns out that upstairs the heat, just like the AC, doesn't come through all the vents properly. The kids' room is mildly heated, but the baby's room is like a refrigerator. The master room is pretty chilly and T's closet is like going outside. It's colder up there than it is in my basement, which is very comfortable and smells like warm dryer sheets.

There were some major plumbing issues upstairs over the last month but they have all been dealt with and so hopefully soon the electrical problem that is causing the vents upstairs to malfunction (or not function really) will be addressed soon and they will all stop having runny noses from sleeping up there.

We have been getting movies out of the library for the kids and this week I even splurged and got one for myself which I have yet to watch because I am addicted to my computer. The playroom TV is the only TV with a DVD player in the house but it used to be at kid level and they had battered the poor machine. The TV was always covered in sticky fingerprints and the baby, who had mastered all the buttons, would constantly play with it and smack it.

It stopped working properly about three weeks ago. Sometimes it was fine, and then most of the time the screen was black while the audio worked perfectly. The DVD player would only play DVDs that were REALLY REALLY REALLY clean and had absolutely never been touched by human hand.

As a result, we could only watch movies with both sound and visual on a rare occasion and even then, we usually had to contend with Baby I turning the TV off or changing the channel and ruining everything.

So when I cam home from my day off last week there was a brand new flat screen in the playroom. Not a large, ridiculous one like in the living room, but still a very nice TV. The buttons are cleverly hidden on the side and so Baby I is going to have to find a new hobby, and there is a DVD player built right into the side as well. Everything is golden except I can't get the Fios remote programmed to this TV so we now have two remotes, which wouldn't be a problem for me, but it is a huge problem for R. She's very delicate and finds two remotes, or rather, waiting for me to use two different remotes to get her shows going, very emotionally draining.

In other news, J has begun asking for food!!! For the last week he has actually come down the stairs, refused Pediasure and eaten breakfast without anyone having to wrestle him to the table. He asks for eggs and cereal, one right after the other. AND HE EATS THEM.

Today he even asked for lunch! HE NEVER ASKS FOR LUNCH.

He's been doing pretty good with dinners too, and there was only one night this entire week that he stopped eating halfway through. Since he's been eating so willingly, when he stopped I told him that was it. I wasn't going to argue. I put him to bed and then next day he ate just fine again.

He has lost a pound since going off the Pediasure but I have confidence that he will gain it back. He's also finally grown into a 3t!!!! So, even though he lost weight, I think it's justified.

They just got home from their party and J is down for the night, so I am off to do a puzzle with R and then figure out what tomorrow will hold for me.

It's raining.

Today I reached a personal milestone.

I used the bathroom upstairs.

I never have before because J was potty training and there was always pee all over it. But he is now potty trained and the bathroom was cleaned yesterday, so. It was time.

I also did too many loads of laundry and the cess pool trap in the basement was full to the tippy top of nasty water.

It's been raining ALL day.

This morning we all got up late again. This house is jam packed with weather-depressive people. I didn't take the baby outside at all since he is still getting over a cold. He sneezed something seriously nasty out of his nose this morning and I almost got sick all over the kitchen.

So we made a day of cleaning up around here and trying not to flood the basement with cess pool water.

I'm living the dream with Netflix so while he napped I watched reruns of this great old sitcom called Newradio that nobody but me liked even in the 90s when it was new. But I'll watch it again. And you can judge me.

There's two loads of unfolded laundry waiting on my bed for me and I suppose I should fold it all before I go to sleep, but the chances of that happening are slim to none.

We did some rainy day baking, which came out a little on the dark side. We have an old gas oven from the 70s which has an upper oven and a lower oven. The upper one is much easier to use but it has been temperamental laterly and only works sometimes. Today when it was time to preheat for our cookies I turned it on and happily heard the gas ingnite.

I set the temperature for my standard 25 degrees less than what the recipe says and then put in my cookies. Nine minutes later they were black on the bottom and juuuuuuuust barely done on the top.

I turned the temp down for the next batch which came out exactly the same.

Turned it down more.

Raw cookies after ten minutes.

Turned it back up and resigned myself to deal with whatever the "Modern Maid" left of my cookies. I got some rock hard, mostly edible versions back and accepted them graciously.

I'm eating them right now.

What just happened?

Today was a whole slew of crazy.

We all got up on time which is a marked improvement over yesterday. The kids and their parents all got out of here on time and Baby I and I packed up and went to his last Toy Time class at the library.

Toy Time is a wonderful hour where 20 babies under 17 months old crawl all over each other and cry. And the parents ignore them and I text. It's glorious. The poor librarian who "leads" the "class" stands up front waving puppets around and singing along to some lame CD and the babies just run wild.

I love it because they immediately fall asleep when it's over.

After school yesterday I was so bored and tired I had to drink coffee to keep from falling asleep while R and J played.

Today T dropped J off with his two wild cousins (T's sister's kids) and her sister promised to be back in an hour.

An hour later, my playroom looked like a garbage dump and smelled pretty similar to one as well. Our young guests had eaten every snack in the house and still wanted more and T's mom had arrived and was scared to leave me with all 5 kids. I'm not sure what time she got here but at 5:30, three hours after school, she called her daughter to come get her rowdy twins.

Yes, they're twins. I had no idea until about a month ago.

T's sister, who is also a T and so she continues to be referred to as T's sister, has twins who are roughly three years old and a baby girl a little younger than Baby I. The twins are a boy and girl, who I thought were different ages because S, the girl, is relatively well behaved and can communicate a clear thought. J, who actually has the same name as my little J, is like talking to Frankenstein's monster. He gtrunts and cries and waves his arm. He eats like an animal and many of his facial expressions resemble a confused ape.

He dumped out two drawers of toys and a bin of blocks and kept opening the playroom gate repeatedly after I told him to get away from it. I'm getting the feeling that Grandma visits us a lot more often than them, and that she is overwhelmed by cousin J's apparent special needs.

Since it was dinner time when the house finally calmed down and was put back together, I texted T to see what was going on. This week she and E have been going to several prayer and memorial services for the relative who just passed away. T has been working long days and then rushing home to change and eat, meet E and head out to pray.

Tonight she said she was on her way home to cook and then twenty minutes later she texted again to say she was stuck at work and could I make some of the frozen chicken and pasta. We struggled through dinner, during which R and J each received time outs for unrelated infractions.

When it was finally over I rushed them all up to start the bedtime routine.

I have mastered it.

These kids are asleep by 8:30 every night that their parents aren't home.

Every night.

Tonight we were halfway there, I was asleep and J was almost out, when E got home and ruined everything. Then T came in and so I left them all to fend for themselves. The kids were still giggling from the second floor after nine.

But I was off duty.

And T is eternally grateful and deeply sorry for my day.

But she had a rough day too.

And I...am in shock.

Just do this.

Today Walter the Electrician put the light switches in my basement. I HAVE LIGHT!

I missed church for the fifth week in a row. There have been electrical problems, septic problems, flooding problems and now a death in T's family, all of these occuring just so that I can't make it to worship.

It hurts.

So I didn't do anything today. I had the kids while E and T went to temple and a funeral, but I stayed late in my room this morning and then we did arts and crafts all day.

I even sang some hymns while I ignored the piles of dishes in the sink.

We made some Halloween crafts and while R was at a playdate, I was asleep and J was sucked into the Buzz Lightyear movie, I had some serious downtime.

R came home in the afternoon and caught me in the kitchen, squishing my stomach into the flatter shape I'd like it in. I sometimes spend a good five minutes in front of the refrigerator cursing my stomach for being hungry and round at the same time. Evil stomach.

She asked me what I was doing and I told her I wanted a snack but my belly wasn't letting me have one. She thought for a minute and then asked me why I didn't just make it flat.

"I'm trying to!" I told her. "Have any ideas?"

She thought again and then dropped onto the floor, belly down.

"Just do this!" And then she wiggled in a little army crawl. "And you could do this for walking!"

Ah, yes. The simple solution. Diet abandoned.

Just kidding.

But you might recall my mentioning no one here had gone shopping in a while?

All week the list kept growing and growing and T has been crazy busy and the house has been crazy busy with runny noses and workmen and whatnot. It's the whatnot that really messes up the day.

Anyway, last night before E and T headed out for some function or another, E took the initiative of going to the store. He took the list I had put together and got a few pointers from T and headed out.

He returned with everything on the list and then some. There is more junk food in this house than has ever been in it since I've been here. T was apalled at the selection of chips and cookies he brought home.

On the plus side, there were two kinds of hummus, which is low-cal but the Swiss chocolate will surely balance that out and I promise you the eight different kinds of cheese did not go unnoticed. STUPID REFRIGERATOR.

And so my only defense is to walk around glaring at my stomach. Or to army crawl for the rest of my life, but winter is coming so...

Last night I stayed up to watch the most important show on Earth (The Soup) which didn't air until midnight. Afterward, I was just heading to bed when the doorbell rang, close to 1 am. Willie immediately started barking like an idiot and I ran upstairs to let E and T in, who had locked themselves out on departure earlier in the evening.

A few weeks back they did this for the first time on my watch.

That night I had the kids all in bed early, I got some erious paperwork done, skipped TV and went to bed early myself. On the nights that I have the kids, I take the monitor down to my room and put it on the nightstand with the volume relatively low.

I have this amazing gift for hearing babies cry in my sleep. And nothing else.

I was dead-to-the-world-unless-you're-a-baby asleep when E and T got home and realized they were locked out. They called my phone, which was on vibrate and I don't hear unless I want to. And I didn't.

They rang the bell, which was broken at the time, knocked and called some more. There were texts, voicemails and more pounding on the door.

All I heard was Willie bark, and after comparing notes with T, it was about ten minutes into the knocking. Before that they had been sporadically calling me between their own conversation for an hour. It was 3 am.

I went back to bed laughing.

And last night I opened the door and told them I was going to stop letting them in.

But to my joy as a result of the chaos and plumbing trouble and lack of electricty of the last few weeks, the upstairs renovation has been postponed and the basement renovation has begun.

The lighting was the beginning. The crack in the foundation is next. The septic is going to be taken care of during all that and then the cleaning crew that was due two weeks ago will be called back to deep clean the basement; when we're sure all the grossness is through.

I will find and murder that noisy cricket before the drywall goes up and by winter there will be carpet and a second, larger playroom for the kids to be couped up in during all the blizzards I am praying for.

I'm already teaching the kids the words to "Let it Snow."

Genuine Saturday.

Last night we were out at E's mother's house for Shabbat dinner until 11 o'clock. The kids were throwing tantrums before we left, while we were there and then topped out with the mother of all tantrums as we packed up to come back.

In the months I've been offline R has developed an indecisive streak. She spends a good twenty minutes choosing her breakfast every morning and then eats the same thing every day. But by far the worst tantrum arena is her closet when it's time to dress for anything.

She is adamantly opposed to layering her clothes and since it has been very chilly in the mornings and then mildly warm and gloriously sunny in the afternoons this poses a problem.

For school she is more agreeable but when we have places to go in the evening her inability to put a matching outfit together which is approved by her mother and that R herself feels comfortable in quickly escalades into an all out screaming match.

The first time it happened E was home. He simply went into the room, put clothes on R and said, "Keep them on or you won't come." She continued to scream for a good fifteen minutes until they walked out the door, but she was dressed.

The next time took longer. E's presence had no influence on her and it wasn't until T spanked her and told her she wasn't coming that she hurried into her outfit and promised to do as told, all the while hiccupping and breathing really hard from crying for thirty minutes.

Last night was the third and last time any of us are letting her out of the house after a tantrum like that. She was {this} close to getting left behind last night and the only reason she didn't was because I was hungry and no one here has been shopping in a really long time.

Before dinner we were dressing to go to a football game. R has a brand new winter coat that she and T picked out and agreed was perfect. When it came time to put it on R started crying. At the football game she vowed she wasn't going to put the coat on so I told T to go ahead with the two boys (E wasn't with us) and I would get her to come. I waited five minutes, said, "Ok, put it on or I'm leaving." When she said no I turned to go and she panicked and put it on.

We went home and hung out for a bit before getting dressed for dinner. The boys and I were ready before R even agreed to go upstairs and look at her clothes. When she finally did she began right away with, "I don't know what to wear!" The tears came shortly after. I told her to stop crying or I wouldn't help her. She didn't. So I left her in T's frustrated hands. T told her to pick something and get it on. She gave her options and ideas. More tears came. T left the room. For over an hour R sat in her room in her birthday suit, screaming that she hated everything she owned. It finally got to the point where T screamed back and that rarely happens. R got a spanking and the threat of not going was put on the table.

Twice R shrieked that she was going to listen and she would get dressed. Twice she started up again after making that promise. T left her in her room with the promise that if she didn't come out in a proper outfit when it was time to go then she would be staying behind.

She put on her outfit and came.

R has been throwing tantrums about other things lately too. Overall her behavior has had a marked change since the start of the school year. When I came home from a day off to a house that looked like a whirlwind had flown through it T was sitting in the kitchen looking tired.

"She's a brat." She told me and I laughed. She IS a brat. But she's actually getting better. The tantrums, I believe, are her last defense against Nanny Rule. And when no one else is home, they are very shortlived little tantrums.

This morning the kids asked if they could play outside. It was still cold at that point so I told them yes, if they wore a sweatshirt and a jacket. The deal is that when the sun gets warm the jackets can come off. J obliged and was outside in no time. The baby, of course, couldn't care less what he's wearing as long as he's outside. He has become very fond of shoes though.

R immediately started crying about having to wear a jacket.

"Ok," I said in a normal, calm speaking voice, which I am positive is key in getting your point across to kids this age. "I'm not going to argue with you. I told you what you need to wear. We're all ready. We're going outside. When you put on what I said you can come out. If I see you out there without what you need, you will be in trouble." And I left.

She argued from the doorway for a bit but when no one engaged she went upstairs and got dressed.

At lunch time T followed my advice and did not engage. We had a pasta picnic on the front lawn and when R started crying and threw her fork down and complained that her mac wasn't cheesy enough T simply said, "Ok, but I'm not making anything else and you won't get dessert." (We dessert after lunch because it has been proven that J can't handle sweets after dinner and be expected to fall asleep anywhere near bedtime.)

And R ate every bite.

In between tantrums, today was a very relaxing day. I made pancakes around 9 and we all trailed the kids outside to ride bikes and sleep on the lawn. Baby I has taken an interest in J's t-ball set and spent the morning hitting balls three inches from the T. I spread out my beach blanket and napped on it. When I sat up T was napping on it too and between us was Willie as happy as I've ever seen him.

E took the kids for a bike ride around the block and T followed to video tape so I put the baby down for a nap and did some minimal work. There was a lot more sitting around pretty much right up until dinner time.

I heated leftovers while E and T got dressed to go out. While the kids ate dinner I told them stories. This is our latest past time. They name a Disney character and I tell the story in as much detail as possible so that when we rent the movies and they watch them for the first time, R won't be scared.

She's a chicken like my little Eva! I MISS LITTLE EVA!!!

Anyway, so I told them Cars, Sleeping Beauty and almost started Snow White before we got side-tracked. R and J have become impressed also with my stories of the new wave of critters living in my basement.

Since the cess pool trap has become filled with stagnant, sulfur-smelling water, all the spiders who usually live in the trap ran out of it in hope of survival. Silly spiders. They all died in the Second All Natural Pesticide War of 2011.

I haven't seen any silverfish to speak of, and still none on my side of the basement. One night I woke up in the dead of the night and looked at the wall above my bed. It was one of those weird moments where you can't explain why you knew to wake up, but I did and there was a very, very faint looking spideresque shape running up the wall. It was gone before I could turn on a better light.

I went back to sleep, which is a sign that I am maturing. Before Africa, I never went back to sleep after a spider-sighting.

Several nights later I encountered another spider of the same species. They're so thin they're barely visible and they are FAST. They remind me of daddy long legs, and so I am not particularely bothered by them. But I did spray my side of the basement again after the cess pool incident anyway, so I haven't seen those in a while either.

The newest developement in Critter Kingdom is the crickets.

The first one I spotted was near the cess pool. I left him alone.

The second one, which I'm pretty sure is also the third one, was on the wall beneath my window. I let him wander for a while, hoping he would have the sense to GO AWAY before I settled down for bed. He didn't, and then he started singing, and so I had to throw a shoe at him. I HAD TO.

I thought I killed him and just couldn't find the body.

But the next night Number 3 was on the same wall, on the other side of the window. He crawled around frantically when I entered the room and turned on the lights. I told him I was going to take a shower and if he was still there when I came back we would have a problem.

He was very cleverly out of sight when I returned.

Unforturnately, when he started singing, I had no idea where to throw my shoes.

I told R about Jiminy Cricket living in the basement and she asked me if she could get up in the middle of the night some time and come meet him.

I thought about it for all of one second, flashing back to every wild outburst she's had in the last 48 hours, calculating just how much sleep she had been lacking in each scenario...

And told her no.

So happy that I can't stop yelling.

Today when the FedEx truck parked in front of the house I nearly died of joy.

J and the baby were both with me when I answered the door, along with a barking Willie. He's progressed from growling and barking when the doorbell rings to barking like crazy and jumping on everyone who dares to stand on our front step.

I had to shield the poor FedEx driver from him.

Then I saw the return address on the box and immediately began shrieking. I bounced back into the house with a box that seemed quadruple the size needed to hold my itty bitty mini computer.

J and I followed me, echoing my exciting screaming and mimicking my leaps. Twas funny.

I had intended to take the two of them to the library and was running late already, but I just had to see how tiny it was. I opened up the giant box and then another not as giant but still pretty big box and finally found my tiny new best friend, Little Marta.

She smiled back up at me in all her miniature glory.

I set her all up and rushed off to the library in my favorite sweater even though it clashes terribly with the double stroller. I smiled at two construction workers painting a crosswalk on the new pavement that I left a footprint in yesterday and they smiled back and made small talk the whole way across the street.

At the library I completely lost track of time and ended up leaving long after the baby should have been asleep. But I reserved the Hunger Games so everyone will shut up about how I need to read them. Even the librarian who helped me frowned and said, "You haven't read them yet?"

Back off.

I'm still trying to read the shelf of goodies in the playroom. I came across The Kitchen God's wife by Amy Tan and it was excellent. She also wrote the Joy Luck Club, which is on my list now. But I've been sorely disappointed in the other classics I've managed to muscle through in the last few weeks.

I didn't realize that classic authors were so trashy. My mistake.

Once home I stuck the baby in his crib and fed J lunch. R got home from school right around then and T's mom stopped by to drop off dinner. She has been doing that for us a lot lately and I have to say, it's one of my favorite things ever. These kids won't eat anything I cook except chicken and even the ways I can prepare that are limited as far as what they will tolerate. I've tried to broaden their horizons but they have resisted every step of the way.

So T calls her mom on the nights when we just feel like we can't come up with anything and she brings over home cooked Persian goodness that the kids will tolerate and all anyone here has to do is heat it all up.

We spent the afternoon crafting. T is working long hours in preparation for a planned extended maternity leave. So while she is out and I have all three kids in the afternoon I do my best to keep them entertained and off my nerves.

We picked up a Halloween craft book at the library and while the kids colored and glue-stuck I made a paper pumpkin candle holder and a little witch named Gertrude.

T said my handy work made it very clear why I work with children.

And let me just say, that if I taught elementary school I would have THE best classroom in the entire world.

After dinner E and T took the two older kids to Temple, it's another holiday and I don't have the energy to know which one. I put Baby I to bed and returned to the playroom, which looks like a hurricane hit it, twice, to spend some quality time with Little Marta.

I'm about to spend the night uploading every picture I've taken since my last computer died. I hope Little Marta is ready for me.

Wishing and hoping.

And thinking. And praying.

I ordered a new computer. Soon, Snobby Nanny will be back in business.

Which means you all will have to pay me. Just kidding.

My wonderful day off is a rainy one so I am taking shelter in the warmth of the library. I had no cash in my wallet this morning and the kids were still in the house so I ran out of there without thinking out a plan. I missed the bus and then thought, you know what? I'm walking. It was fun; I do like playing in the rain. But once I got to town and realized that I was going to be wearing my wet clothes for a while some of the fun went out of the situation.

Oh well.

We have entered the Jewish holiday season which has already been riddled with feasts and fasts and random days off from school.

R is enrolled in a public school so she has been out of the house routinely, but J is in a Hebrew school and as a result, he is home with me on all the holidays. Last week halfway through the first morning we spent together my head nearly exploded.

That. Kid. Can. Talk.

We were making Halloween cookies and I believe he asked the same three questions for at least twenty minutes. Then, when I forbade him to ask anymore questions, he employed a new approach. "Why? Why? Why, Kimmy? Why?"

"PLEASE GO INTO THE PLAYROOM, J, RIGHT NOW. PLEASE. GO."

"Why?"

Commence head explosion.

The baby has come down with a cold to rival all other colds. His nose has been running nonstop for a week and his appetite varies from nonexistent at dinner time, to consuming three eggs and a bowl of cereal at breakfast. His naps are pretty consistent though. And in the midst of all the change-of-season complications Baby I has also discovered a new favorite past time. Screwing with the dog.

Poor Willie Nelson was feeling badly enough about himself after he was shaved bald to resemble a frightened little rat, but now he spends his days hiding behind me in the hopes that Baby I will not find him, or more importantly, his tail.

The baby starts each day with breakfast, a huge poo, and then spends three hours terrorizing the dog. Chasing him, pulling his fur, sitting on him (and I guarantee the baby weighs twice what the dog does) and yes, yanking his tail.

As a result my mornings now consist of a good three hours of playing referee. Baby I has been introduced to the yell-and-finger-point, the time-out and the always fear-inspiring turning off of the dance music.

Willie Nelson has developed an even deeper affection for his protector. At night when I sit around watching TV, he used to sit at my feet or on my feet, whichever I required. Now he sits on my lap or if I am lying down, he smushes himself against my side and refuses to be nudged away even an inch. Dogs...

My days off have been vastly snobby and eventful. I have been to PA to visit the Camp Hill homestead and to NJ to visit select few people there. I will have to make that trip again as there are the most people to be seen there (although considerably less since all 25 of the Siebolds left!) and it is by far the cheapest day of travel. I recently visited Baltimore to pretend to be a Hopkins student for a day. Next on the list is Halloween fun in the Lehigh Valley!

Being snobby in the greater Allentown area is going to be a challenge as I don't want to be mugged there ever again, so I will put some serious thought into it and let you know how it goes.

I'll leave you with my personal favorite mugging story.

I closed my store at midnight. I drove the six or seven blocks to the parking lot across the street from my house. I gathered my laundry basket fresh from my mother's house and tossed my purse inside it. I shouldered my bag containing my used pjs and personal items. I locked up the car and crossed the street.

I landed in a bush.

I watched a young (idiot) boy run up the street with my favorite cloth tote and my most comfy sweats. Also my hairbrush, toothbrush and barely used bottle of mousse. Probably some deodorant too.

I went home.

El fin.

Ah...the thought of A-town warms my heart...