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See, this never would have happened if we had just signed her up for karate.

It’s been well over a year since I signed up Aura for her first dance class. And almost a year since I blogged about my recital qualms, and then the ensuing recital hijinks. (Ah, hijinks. Entirely maladroit here, yet there is not nearly enough usage of hijinks these days. That and d├ęcolletage. Oh, and bamboozle….

Now if only I could think of something lucrative to do with all of these twist ties. Besides cursing at them.

new year

So! Happy 2012, everyone! A nice even number, this one. A leap year, even, which I prefer to think of as a year with an extra day when you can eat a lot of cookies and then forget it ever happened. Or something like that. (For those of you with more stalwart, healthier resolutions, what…

I might get myself a plaque, too. Something gilded that highlights my cookie-bribing achievements.

Trader Joe

I’ve been feeling sick off and on for a couple of weeks now, and the lead-up to the holidays has been a lot more muted that I would have wanted. Aura and I still haven’t made the peppermint bark, I’m only a scary little percentage done with Christmas shopping, and the stuff on the kitchen…

How One Child Makes a Christmas List, or: Crap, Guy Fieri Strikes Again

Just make the Santa list

(I hold these truths to be self-evident. Also, extremely expensive.) 1. Approach, rather lackadaisically, the toy catalogs that have recently arrived by the armload. Let the bright purple circling marker dangle loosely from your fingers, as to give the impression that Eh, You May Have Better Things to Do and Are Possibly Above This By…

I am now having very optimistic second thoughts about those cans of Funfetti frosting, assuming that kneading is involved.

So I picked up this little gem of a project a few days ago: Yes, indeedy. It is one of those prefab gingerbread house kits, the kind of which I have avoided for most of Aura’s childhood, simply because I couldn’t put up with what I knew would be Adam’s protestations: “A pre-made gingerbread house?…

Please, no quacking jokes. I’m still recovering. A lot.

I’m not sure how many of you remember the Great Duck Fiasco of Thanksgiving 2010 (main plot points: Adam attempts to shun centuries of tradition by insisting on duck for the main course instead of turkey; threatens to cook rabbit for Easter if he doesn’t get his way, leading me to yell things like YOU…

I’d much prefer Cuddly Panda mom. Or even Super-Terrific Honey Badger Mom.

tiger mom image perception

The other day, during swim class (the last one for a while, thank all that is fully holy, semi-holy, and even just a little holy), I noticed that Aura was giving her teacher a bit of a hard time about going under water. After it had gone on for a few minutes, I stood up,…

Just think of the damage I could do with a fake blog post on moisturizer. I mean, we’re talking HUGE.

You know, it’s turning into one of those weeks when I realize I have absolutely nothing interesting to say. I had a brief moment of weakness ( or extreme strength, depending on how glass-half-full you are these days) when I thought, “Hey, I’ll just make something up!” but all I could come up with was…

I was going to talk about Little Red Riding Hood too, but some of us prefer nightmare-free sleep.

chocolate touch

Since Aura started reading illustrated books on her own a while ago, Adam and I decided to start reading her chapter books at bedtime. It’s been an…enlightening experience. I have much to say on the subject, but for now, allow me to cast a modern parenting eye on four classics from my childhood. The Chocolate…

Suddenly, Teletubbies seem like poor role models. To say nothing of that chub named Fancy Nancy.

Aura had her five-year physical this week. I’m not sure why I always get a touch anxious when it’s time for one of these things. It doesn’t help that the entire experience always starts with a stint in the waiting room during which Aura cagily eyes all available toy options and then beelines for the…