Wrunkle in time

'Tis the season for coughs and sneezies. So please, kids and parents alike, take a tip from the Jimmies: be pachydermal, not germal. Check it out...

Fete set

Happily but wearily I report tonight: the big guy's birthday has, I believe, been properly celebrated.

Muchas gracias to those who called, sent and e-mailed greetings and salutations.

And enormous thanks to the gaggle of friends and neighbors, past and present, who spent their Saturday evening with us in exchange for a wedge of black-and-white birthday cake.

Because he's crashed out on the couch, I'll go ahead and speak for Trey when I say: we are so richly blessed to have such a merry band of friends.

It was big-time fun to mix up your diverse personalities, backgrounds, stories, jokes, drink preferences and kiddos (by my count: nineteen of 'em) under our roof.

Now we turn our attention to the second Sag in the house, as we prepare for Carter's fifth birthday celebration. No rest for the weary: not that I'd have it any other way.

Blankety-blank.

_____ winks.
UB__.
_____ acres. (Mule optional.)
__-hour work week.
_____ days and _____ nights.
__-oz. malt liquor.
Life begins at _____.

Happy __th birthday to the love of my life, my (truly) better half, the answer to my question, my sun in the morning and my moon at night: my husband, partner and co-conspirator, Trey. I love you more with each year that passes, even though it seems they pass by much too quickly these days.

xoxox
Amy

All-purpose

I feel certain you'll be relieved to learn that, should you leave your preschool-age twins unsupervised for two minutes, tops, during which time they determine that Wright's Silver Cream might serve quite nicely as a facial masque, actually, that the calm and pleasant voice on the other end of the poison-control hotline will neither mock your unnecessary hysteria nor report you to the authorities for absymal parenting skills, but will simply reassure you that this mild skin irritant, once rinsed off the skin, should cause your children no permanent harm.

Please note, however, that your heart will race wildly, then break a little when, after a proper scolding and thorough cleansing, you ask your daughter what on earth possessed her to do such a thing and she looks at you, clear-eyed and beautiful and, yes, tarnish-free, and answers, "Because I wanted to be grown up, Mommy."

Embarrassment of riches

So Carter is now convinced that I'm the coolest mom on the planet, because every day he comes home to discover that I have bought him yet another toy catalog.

Oh, if only you could bear witness to this joy. He devours them first, then pores over each page; stashes them in every room of the house; ruthlessly dangles them just out of his brother's reach and discusses each item with us in-depth.

And just as his very favorite one falls apart at the seams, a fresh supply magically appears in our mailbox. Surely there was never a more thoughtful, prescient, loving mother.

Is it even remotely shameful how I bask in the glow of this adoration? Don't answer that.

Every other day of the week is fine.

Oh, Monday, Monday: can't trust that day. Fortunately, I have unwavering faith that this song will kick my post-weekend blues square in the teeth.

Turn it up and dance like no one's watching. Trust me.