Signs You Have the Right Friends, Part 1

I recently emptied and reorganized the cleaning supplies/medicines/extra toiletries shelf in my linen closet. At left is the photo of items left over and no longer needed at my house that I then emailed to a select list of friends to see if anyone wanted something from the pile.

Within two hours and a dozen email exchanges, I'd not only found homes for all the stuff, I'd also been treated to hilarious stories of children using tampons as toys, requests for an extra box of sanity if I find any and one friend who wondered what category of sponges I was offering because she couldn't see the photo at first.

Nothing profound, but I couldn't stop laughing at the electronic trail we created based on a reject pile.

These are my people -- friends who a) don't think it's weird that I'm trying to give them my linen closet leftovers, b) help me clear out my house and c) entertain and distract me in the process.

Sometimes my life feels a lot like that shelf -- everything just kind of jumbled on top of everything else, much of it useful but not always accessible, some of it expired or unnecessary, all of it completely crammed in together. I'm just grateful I don't have to take care of it all on my own.

Music from Lost Time

Tucked way in the very back of my upstairs hallway closet, there's a storage bin filled with pictures, maps, brochures, coins and other bits from the year I lived in Cardiff, Wales. I filled that bin when I returned to my parents house after the year studying abroad and have moved it from house to apartment to duplex to apartment to at least three more houses over the past 15 years.

My intent, of course, was to make a series of photo scrapbooks that would capture all the beautiful places I went and all the things I accomplished that year. I planned to have albums that I could flip through to treasure the memories or share stories with my children of the great adventure mommy had before they were even an idea.

And yet, more than a decade later, everything is still shoved into that same plastic bin -- much to my husband's chagrin.

Thankfully, treasured memories aren't dependent on neatly organized photo albums. Sometimes, a particular scent or sound -- or even a cartoon glass -- can be enough to conjure up the most vivid picture of a day long gone.

Today it was Spotify that served as my Proustian madeleine, courtesy of a playlist built around a mix tape that had been my sound track during that year in Cardiff. A fellow American scholar studying at Oxford became one of my favorite friends that year -- we visited each other and marveled that we, with our parallel lives and similar tastes, hadn't crossed paths sooner. The mix tape she made for me offered an entire Gravity's Pull album on one side, harkening back to the days when we didn't know each other at UNC, and a collection of tracks from Nancy Griffith, Nikki Meets the Hibachi, Shawn Colvin, Del Amitri, Shannon Worrell, Soul Miner's Daughter, Rebecca Riots and more on the other side.

I listened to that tape, my walkman tucked into the pocket of my weather-proof coat, every day for months as I walked to class, to the city centre, to a friend's flat, to the train station, to museums and galleries and castles and pubs. The songs rang of strength and friendship, searching and wonder. They were my constant partner as I found myself able to live so far from home, able to succeed on my own in a way I hadn't been sure was possible.

When I came back to the U.S., I was still listening to that same tape as I walked the halls again at UNC, where I found myself surprisingly ready to meet the man who would be my husband.

This morning, more than a decade gone by, I listened to Dave Matthews hum out his "Christmas Song" on the Spotify playlist that I finally built based on that mix tape. There's no tape deck in my car anymore, but I didn't want to give up the tape -- iPhone to the rescue.

Although I was driving roads in Raleigh, running ordinary errands on this ordinary day, I had the extraordinary sense of being transported through space and time I thought were lost. I felt the blessings of being known by a friend discovered in a moment when I needed that connection more than ever. I recalled the confidence borne out of finding my own way. I pictured the path I walked from my flat toward the capitol, the details of my room, the oceans of daffodils filling the gardens, the faces and voices of people I haven't seen since I returned home after we completed our degrees.

And I smiled to myself, holding the treasure of that year and that entire dusty storage bin in my mind.

A Friend In Deed

Two weeks ago, a dear friend of mine sent me an early morning email that was exactly what I needed. She's one of those friends who has known me long enough to love me anyway, despite the fact that I almost never call and rarely visit. We've been roommates in more than one country, seen each other through boyfriends who turned out not to be husbands, stood together at weddings and a funeral. 

I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I'm so very grateful. In fact, I could never have earned all the wonderful friends that I have -- and thank goodness we don't have to earn them. This particular message was too beautiful to leave in my inbox, so I'm sharing it here with you (names changed to protect her boys). May you all have a friend (or two or twenty) who can show you in small ways that she loves you. 

***

Some days you just need someone else to make your coffee. Or tea. Or, Jonah's recommendation, chocolate milk.

I must feel that way often. At least, Starbucks has been keeping track because, to my surprise (though perhaps not my husband's), they sent me a gold card which meant I had visited their fine establishments 30 times last year. I don't know whether to be boast or cringe about my new status. Regardless, there were 30 days last year when I just needed someone else to make my coffee.

Two times had to do with rites of passage. Right after I dropped Cam off to big kid school because the bricks I placed on his head didn't stop him from growing, I drove myself to Starbucks and stood in line behind a mom and dad who had just undergone the very same knife-to-heart ritual. That day called for a Venti, with extra caramel and yes please some whipped cream on top and why don't you stock alcohol here?

Weeks ago, I stood in that same line -- where they now know my name and my usual -- just minutes before picking him up for summer vacation. Not my usual, but it was a Venti day again, somewhat in celebration that Cam and I would be back together for the summer. But mostly because I needed that big of a cup to soothe my insides drained raw from a year of missing him. It was a "Whew, I can't believe I made it. I'll have a Venti."

During these 30 visits over the last year, Jonah became well acquainted with the love of someone else making mama's coffee. The benefit to him was a more aware and relaxed mama. As I market the deal
to my husband, it's cheaper than therapy. And sometimes at these visits, on the whims of mama, Jonah would score a milk, usually vanilla but once in a while, chocolate.

Even if all mama gets is a straight coffee, Jonah likes to be hoisted up in a spot right beside the sugar-in-the-raw cubby where he can peer behind the counter and "watch the magic happen." His word choice has won him many barista friends. Also a dead giveaway that mama saved on therapy 30 times in the last year.

Well today, with your dad having his procedure, I thought you just might need someone else to make your coffee. Or tea. Or I won't tell if you get chocolate milk. I hope it will soothe your insides and let
you know that you all are loved. This Venti's on me*; after all, I need to keep going to maintain my gold card status.

* Starbucks e-card will be coming to your inbox.

***

That afternoon, while my kids were at camp, I left work early and headed for Starbucks. I'm not a coffee girl, so I seriously considered Jonah's chocolate milk recommendation before opting for a fruit smoothie. Dropping into a sunny seat, I savored the sweetness of a rare moment alone to say a quiet prayer for my dad (who is fine, thanks for asking) and one for my friend (who is far too good to me). 

A Super Ordinary Boy

Today Dylan looked more or less like all the other second grade boys on the school field trip, with his gap-toothed grin, energetic legs, sweaty head and dirty fingernails, digging through the dirt for fossils at the Museum of Life + Science. In fact, most days when we see him, he's just like all the other kids.

Except for last summer, when we had to go to Duke Hospital to see Dylan. Then, for the first time since 2007, he looked more like a patient than the kid down the street. For two weeks, while a team of nurses and doctors poked and tested and treated him for an infection, we were reminded that in spite of looking and acting and generally being like all the other kids, Dylan has cystic fibrosis.

As CF patients go, he's been pretty healthy, according to his mom -- but his parents work hard to keep him that way. Each day, he takes more than 20 pills, three nebulizer treatments and two airway clearances -- and that's when he's well. If he has a lung infection, he can spend up to two hours a day doing breathing treatments. After his two-week hospitalization last summer, he spent another eight weeks at home on IV meds -- that meant no swimming in the pool for all of July and August.

So stop for a minute and imagine your daily routine with your kids.

Think about how full each day is and how often you're running late for school or work in the morning because they can't find their shoes or didn't remember their homework or need you to make an extra snack or are just generally being pissy. And think about how hard it is to get your kids to bed on time because there are always a hundred things, both real and imaginary, that suddenly have to be completed before you can get them to go to sleep.

Then imagine that in the midst of all that everyday chaos, you've also got to work in five different breathing treatments and convince your child to swallow 20 pills. Every. Single. Day.

Now if you're Dylan's mom, you don't complain about any of that. In the 7+ years that I've known her, not once have I heard her complain. Instead, she says things like this:

"That is a lot for a little guy to have to handle and as a mom it is hard to watch him having to endure all he does everyday. Dylan has made me a stronger person. He never gets a day off. I will continue to do all I can to keep him healthy until a cure is found."

On Saturday, my family and I will join with the rest of the Super Dylan Nation in the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation's Great Strides Walk. We will wear our red shirts and wind our way through downtown Raleigh for 3.1 miles. We will marvel at how our little friend with cystic fibrosis can run the whole 5K. We will celebrate all that his family does to keep him healthy.

And I will also say a quiet prayer of thanks that we can do something -- however small -- to help make CF stand for "cure found."

Click here if you'd like to join us on the walk, share your support through a donation to the Super Dylan team (no gift is too small!), or learn more about the CF Foundation.

Need more convincing?

• Five reasons why you should donate to the Super Dylan campaign
• For Super Dylan's Mom
• "The Longest-Lived Survivor"

One Amazing Night

On any given day, I probably have three blog posts lurking in my head somewhere. Unfortunately, on any given day, I probably have about two minutes to spend actually writing them down.

And so over time, those posts collect in my brain and my fingers and get all tangled up until it's too hard to write once I finally do carve out some quiet time. The topics become too important or involved or complex to throw down in a 15-minute burst, and so I keep putting them off. It's kind of like how I don't call my best friends who live far away because I want to be sure I really have time to talk to them and of course I never really have that kind of time and so I keep not calling until it would probably take three days to cover all the things we want to talk about and we end up with a seven-minute cell phone chat in the carpool line instead which is totally unsatisfying and yet still better than nothing.

Phew.

So tonight I'm starting to unpack that very crowded brain, beginning with the thing that's probably hardest to put into words. Which is funny, I guess, given that the whole event was about showcasing writing.

Last week I had the incredibly good fortune to share a stage with 14 other local writers as we gave motherhood a microphone. The inaugural Raleigh-Durham edition of the Listen to Your Mother show was simply amazing -- and I say that not because I was in it.

It was amazing because it happened -- thanks to much hard work by Marty, KeAnne and others. It was amazing because so many people bought tickets that the show sold out the day before -- the audience was filled with friends and family who made me feel important by their presence. And it was amazing because of the live connection that I didn't know I craved until I was standing on stage.

It's one thing to sit here at my laptop, spill all these stories onto the screen and hit publish. Sometimes people will leave comments or send a tweet, occasionally someone I know will reference a post in conversation. For the most part, it's just me and the silence of my own writing.

So it's another thing entirely to stand in front of hundreds of people who are laughing and giving me real-time feedback as I read my writing aloud. I probably should have been nervous -- my pale face in the spotlight with nothing but a music stand to shield me as I confessed my story. Instead, I just felt connected, like I was part of something, like I was where I belonged.

The next day, I couldn't believe I had to go to work and make lunches and do carpool and the ordinary bits of things like nothing had happened. But I suppose that's just like the miraculous ordinary of motherhood.

When the nation LTYM site posts the video from the show on their YouTube channel, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I just want to say thank you to my friends and family who supported me with good wishes before and after the show, to my sweet husband who greeted me with two dozen (!) roses in the auditorium, and to my fellow cast members who made the whole amazing night possible -- I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm ready to take this show on the road.

Links to other blog posts from the LTYM-RDU cast following the show:

• Dellabee and Me
• Musings of an (In)sane Life
• Dirt and Noise
• And Just One More
• Baby with a Twist
• (hopefully more coming soon!)

The Best Hashtag You've Ever Seen

Have you had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?

Too many meetings bringing you down? Kid chaos wearing you out? Messy house ruining your view?

You could try a glass of wine to take the edge off. Or maybe go for a run to burn off some stress. Or even just scoop a loved one into a big hug to make you feel okay again.

But sometimes you need a faster, simpler pick-me-up to turn that frown upside down.

And here's where I'm going to change your world in three easy steps:

1. Get your phone or tablet.
2. Go to Instagram.
3. Search for #vivioftheday. 

Here's one sample of the gorgeousness there for you:

Those cheeks, those lashes, those pouty lips, and (did I mention) those CHEEKS! How can you NOT smile when you see that face?! I'm seriously considering making myself a set of cereal bowls with these photos just so I can start my day off right (you might prefer a coffee mug set, but I don't drink coffee).

Now for those of you not paying close attention, I should clarify that this is not my child. This round loveliness belongs to my sweet beach friend, who kindly agreed to hashtag photos of her daughter Vivi so that I could find them quickly when I needed a smile. I mean, my own kids are cute, but they're all long and lean now -- it's just not the same.

So there you have it. Wherever you are, whatever the time of day or night, a smile awaits you at #vivioftheday.

You're welcome.

Make CF Stand for "Cure Found" for Super Dylan!

Adapted from a post May 17, 2011 -- We'll be walking in the Great Strides walk again this Saturday with the Super Dylan Team!


You may remember that I'm not a fan of NPR's pledge drive, but apparently it works because they keep on doing it over and over and over and over again. And again.

So it's pledge drive time again here at My Convertible Life -- we're raising funds for the Super Dylan Team and the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation's Great Strides walk. I'll be walking this Saturday in Raleigh with the fam and we need your support.

If you already know about Dylan and want to make a gift, you can stop reading now, click here to give online and feel confident that your money is going to a great cause.

If you don't know about Dylan or about cystic fibrosis, here are some old posts you can read to learn to more about one of Junius' best buddies and his battle against this chronic illness:

• Donate for Super Dylan (background post)
• For Super Dylan's Mom (because to know her is to love her)
• Friday's 5: Why You Should Donate for Super Dylan (in case you need a list)
• The Longest-Lived Survivor (to see why research can make a difference)

Now click on over and help us ensure that Dylan has lots more afternoons of slip-n-sliding with Junius and Pippi. And thanks in advance for your gift!

I'm Walkin on Sunshine

I won't lie to you -- I'm competitive and I love to win. If I were a member of the Dunphy family, I would most definitely be Alex. I like getting good grades, big prizes and lots of positive reinforcement.

And so that's why my friend over at Old Dog New Tits (which, by the way, is one of the best Twitter/blog names ever) totally made my day for giving me the Sunshine Award. Clearly, I am deserving of this random prestigious honor for which there appear to be no actual criteria.

Also, you're welcome for sticking Katrina & the Waves in your head for the rest of the day with this post title. It is my most favorite song (cue mental image of me with big hair and leg warmers).

But enough with the speeches. Here are the rules for this award:
1) Include the award logo in a post or in your blog.
2) Answer 10 questions about yourself.
3) Nominate 10 to 12 other fabulous bloggers.
4) Link your nominees to the post and comment on their blog to let them know they are nominated.
5) Share the love and link the person who nominated you.

And here are my answers to these random questions:

Favorite color: Carolina blue (duh). And sunny yellow, plus a little hydrangea pink and that gray-green shade that isn't anything at all like seafoam green.

Favorite number: 8 -- because it's so lovely, even and curvy. Also, 4 because it is fun to write. And never ever 7. Ick.

Favorite animal: My children. Honestly, they're like puppies with a bigger vocabulary.

Favorite non-alcoholic drink: Chai latte, which I can almost never drink anymore because the black tea and the caffeine make my third kidney unhappy. But I should add that, thanks to my Indian friends in college, I was drinking them before Starbucks made them cool.

Prefer Facebook or Twitter: Twitter via Hootsuite. It's so much snarkier than Facebook.

My Passion: The beach. And napping. Especially napping at the beach.

Prefer giving or getting presents: Can I pick "exchanging"? Because I love finding just the right gift to give to someone, but who in their right mind doesn't love getting presents?! And by "exchanging" I mean I give you a gift and you give me a gift -- I don't mean returning it to the store to get something else.

Favorite pattern: For china? wallpaper? I'm not really sure what this means.

Favorite day of the week: Saturday. Which is why I am passionate about the beach, because everyday there is Saturday. Except for the Saturday when we have to leave the beach, and that Saturday is the only one that feels more like a Monday. Blerg.

Favorite flower: This one changes, but at the moment it's white hydrangeas. And always yellow roses.

And here are the bloggers I am nominating for this award:

• Momsicle (who was also on ODNT's list, but I won't make her write the post twice)
• 649.133 (who has one of the more clever blog names around)
• Living Life Well (who is making great progress on a very cool list)
• Motherhood WTF (who makes us all feel less alone in our parenting)
• Telling a Good Story (who doesn't blog nearly enough)
• Let Me Start By Saying (who writes funny and serious equally well)
• Naps Happen (who shows how a good nap is worth 1,000 words)
• Ninja Mom (who is a proud fellow member of Team Banana Clip)
• Fizgiggery (who is very cool, and not just because she's British)
• Don't Take the Repeats (who is awesome, and not just because she got me started in all this blogging mess)

Now go blog visiting, share some comment love -- and tell them I sent you.

Best Friends Forever

Every girl needs at least one long-time, old school BFF.

That friend who loved you when you were an awkward teen-ager and still loves you when you're both heading into your 40s. The one you can call and pick up right where you left off, without explanations or apologies. The one who knows your whole family and all your skeletons and would never think of using any of them against you. The one who has an arsenal of big hair 80s photos of you and hasn't posted a single image to Facebook.

I'm absurdly lucky to have more than one of those friends -- just a few treasured women who have known me for almost three decades and remain a part of my life, even before we had email and social media (gasp!) for keeping in touch.

There are many wonderful women in my life -- my list of good friends is an embarrassment of riches. They've been neighbors and classmates, colleagues and roommates. Some friendships I've wandered into and others I've wooed strategically planned.

But there's nothing quite like that best friend since age 12.

We live in different cities and don't get to see each other very often -- life sometimes has a way of getting in the way. Even when we don't visit or talk regularly, I feel better just knowing she's out there if I need her.

And that's why I'm so sad tonight. Because my friend Marty lost her best friend Susan today.

Although I felt like I knew Susan thanks to Marty's stories and connections on social media, we never actually met. I loved her anyway -- not only because she seemed like an incredible person, but mostly and simply because she loved my friend.

We are too young to lose a best friend. I have nothing useful to say to Marty except that I am so incredibly sorry for her loss. And that I will probably bring over a casserole at some point, because that is what we do.

In the meantime, I will be saying prayers of thanksgiving and peace -- for Susan and her family, for Marty, for my friends from all stages of my life.

Friday’s 5: Ways to Make a Blogger Happy

After weeks of crazy schedules combined with just generally being slack, I finally got back to reading some of my favorite blogs yesterday. Trying to catch up on friends (both the ones I've met and the ones I only know online) reminded me of one of the things I like best about blogging: community.

We have a great group of bloggers in my area who get together now and then -- I'm lucky to be a part of a group of smart, interesting ladies who like writing and appreciate my grammar geekiness (that's two of them in the photo with me at last year's blogging conference). But beyond that, I love the virtual community that exists online through blogging.

It's knowing that I can leave a comment on a blog about a friend's terrible day. Or discovering that a long-lost friend is enjoying my random stories. Or finding a new writer with a mutual love of precise language and snarky stories.

If you have your own blog, you probably already know all of this. But if you don't (or even if you do), you might be reading blogs without thinking about what's happening on the other end of the screen.

So, in case you need some tips, here are five ways to make (or keep) your favorite bloggers happy:

1. Leave a comment: The only way we really know that you read a post is if you leave a comment. And despite what you might think, most bloggers aren’t just writing to “hear themselves talk.” We actually want to have a sort of conversation with you. Share your own related story, post a reaction or just leave some words of encouragement.
2. Share a post: Read something that catches your attention? Email the post to a friend, link to it on Facebook or tweet about it. That's the beauty of posting all these stories, jokes, rants, recipes and recommendations online -- it makes them easy to share.
3. Suggest a topic: Need advice? Just want someone else’s perspective on something? Tell your favorite blogger and see what she (or he) can do with it. 
4. Click a link: Most blogs will have an archive or labels or tags of some sort to categorize old posts. Unless you’ve read every post since a blog was born (hi Mom and Dad!), you might have missed something great. Pick a category at random and see what comes out of the archive.
5. Subscribe: There are multiple ways to follow most blogs – “like” them on Facebook (or use the Networked Blogs app), subscribe by email, follow on Twitter or add them to your RSS feed. That way you never miss a post.

Now let's test what you've learned -- leave us a comment with a link to one of your favorite blogs (other than mine, of course) and let's share the love.

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A Week in My Life: Friday at the Fair

Keeping up with Adventuroo's "A Week in My Life" project. has turned out to be nearly impossible. Too much life happening to have enough time left over for writing about it. But I'm doing what I can -- check out my Monday here and my Tuesday here. Then you'll have a good idea about why I'm so tired.

Friday was no ordinary day. It was Go to the North Carolina State Fair Day.

So for our documentation purposes here, we'll skip over the morning part where I went to work, Pippi went to preschool and Junius went to the office with his Daddy, blah blah blah. Let's jump straight into the crazy fun part....

If you can make it, they can fry it. More on that later, but we just couldn't resist a photo on the way in.

Self-portrait so that my dermatologist will be impressed. The weather was NC perfect on Friday -- but definitely required sunscreen and a hat.

The one ride we all went on together was the Ferris wheel (or, "ferist wheel," as Junius calls it). This unedited photo was taken while we waited in line.

Here are my two dare devils, waiting for the wheel to start turning...

...and here are my white knuckles as I gripped the handle. I was seriously nervous on this ride. My children were not. I spent much of the ride telling them to hold on and sit down. It's been a long, long time since my days on the Carolina Cyclone and Thunder Road.

The view from the top of the Ferris wheel was very cool. But it was hard to grip the handlebar with one hand and take a photo with the other hand without dropping my iPhone.

Some of our beach buddies came into town for the day so they could go to the Fair. And what a bonus for us that we were already planning to go on the same day! Pippi was so happy to see her friend, they kept holding hands and hopping around. So adorable...

Junius really liked controlling the map. I'm not sure how well-developed his sense of direction is, but knowledge is power -- and now that he can read, he really likes having the power tools.

Junius and his beach buddy directed us (more or less -- okay, less) to the animal area, where we watched the sheep getting sheared. The sheep did not seem happy about this plan. The children were mesmerized. I was considering switching to synthetic fabrics.

I don't know what this lovely girl's name is, but she was one of the people showing off recently-sheared sheep in the animal section. She must be really good at it because she had on one hell of a belt buckle. Pippi was jealous.

And here's another celebrity at the Fair -- my friend, the Practical Cook. In addition to being awesome because of her deep and abiding love of cereal, she is also a Deep Fried Ambassador for the NC State Fair. Seriously. She has a media pass and everything. Check out her blog -- including video of her taste tests with deep fried Kool Aid, deep fried bubblegum and the Krispy Kreme burger. I'm not kidding.

Pippi was desperate for ice cream with sprinkles. Not sure you can see it here, but she ended up with sprinkles in her hair because she was so excited.

Thanks to a tip from the Practical Cook, based on her extensive deep fried Fair research, we located the best stand for deep fried Oreos. After sharing a taste with Pippi, she promptly declared the Oreos to be even better than ice cream. If you'd like to hear an on-the-scene description of what it tastes like, check out the video at the end of this post. Here's a peek inside...

While we were indulging, Junius was busy spending the last of his ride tickets (which we bought in advance because they are SO much cheaper that way). He looks kind of serious in this photo, which could be because he takes his fake four-wheeler driving very seriously or might actually be because he is flippin exhausted.

By that point, we had clearly overstayed our welcome at the Fair. Thus, Pippi got carried back down the long and winding path back to the car (free parking at Gate 8, thankyouverymuch) -- first on a mommy piggy-back and then on daddy's shoulders.

And before you get alarmed that I'm not wearing my hat anymore in this photo, rest easy knowing that it was dark out by then. Seriously time to go home -- but worth staying to see the Fair light up as we said farewell until next year.

A Week in My Life: Tuesday

Yes, I know it's Wednesday. But Tuesday was very full and there was no time for blogging -- but lots to document. I'm participating in Adventuroo's "A Week in My Life" project. You can see my Monday here.

Tuesday started painfully early for a good cause. If I look a little blurry in that first picture, it's because I was volunteering at my polling station at 6:30 a.m. in the RAIN in the DARK and I wasn't totally awake yet. The kids joined me at 7:30, mostly playing in the car for my last half hour of greeting. (Translation of J's post-it: "Christine is are [our] school board.") And no, no one wanted my little candidate flier.

Once our shift was up, we headed home to play. Also to lay out the newspaper across the counter because it was somehow soaking wet inside the plastic bag.

At 9:00 we got ready for our friend Baby J, who hangs out with us on Tuesday mornings. That means dumping out an entire basket of toys and then confiscating all the tiny things he might try to eat. We also got our They Might Be Giants station playing on Pandora (via TiVo, which I LOVE). You can see here that we all love Baby J very much. He loves us too, although sometimes I think he'd like a little more personal space.

At 11:00, we loaded up Baby J and took Pippi to her gymnastics class. Baby J took a nap while Junius played games on my iPhone.

After we returned Baby J to his parents, we loaded back into the car with lunch and headed to Daddy's office for flu shots. Junius, apparently exhausted from the morning, gave out along the way. Pippi managed to keep herself awake by singing the entire time.

Junius and I were very brave for our shots (Pippi already got hers at the pediatrician). Then we argued over who would get to push the buttons in the elevator.

On the ride home, we rocked out to one of our most favorite CDs: the aptly-titled Songs Your Mom Will Like by Big Bang Boom. That's Pippi beatboxing and playing the air trumpet on track 14. Buy it now and thank me later.

After a little rest time (read: 30 minutes of TV) at home, we loaded back into the car (are you noticing a theme here?) for some play time at our friends' house. Pippi showed us how she can buckle her own seat belt (which can take up to 5 minutes, depending on the amount of whining involved). We admired our friends' fabulous Halloween decorations, debated the scientific names of toy dinosaurs and generally had a whirlwind of fun.

At 6:00, we picked up Daddy and went out for dinner at a local restaurant that was having a fundraising night for our arts school. Junius impressed his friends by reading all the signs on the way in (yes, first-graders are that cool). The kids played with wikistiks while we waited for our food (smart restaurant), then Pippi cleaned her plate and part of Junius' too. My girl loves some pasta. I had the yummiest bleu cheese mac-n-cheese with bacon -- comfort food on a rainy night.

Back at home, we filled milk cups (I don't know why, but that blue cup is THE ONLY WAY Junius will drink milk and he MUST have it at bedtime every night) and went upstairs for bed. Junius brushed his teeth and protested all the photography. I spray-treated Pippi's shirt (why oh why do I ever buy white shirts for her?) and pondered the need for gender-specific children's toothpaste. Then Daddy showed the kids pictures from his day touring cool Raleigh locations like the science museum and the RBC Center.

It was my turn to read to Pippi. She picked out "The Shy Little Girl," a book I somehow still have from my childhood. I love how much she loves the book, even though parts of it are really dated. The trick to getting Pippi to sleep is to get her to be still -- see how she fidgets with her hands to stay awake?

Finally at 8:00, with both kids asleep, my political junkie husband and I settled in on the couch for election returns. With two laptops, an iPad, an iPhone and the television between us, we stalked the results, read tweets aloud, flipped news channels and cheered for the victory. Who says you can't have champagne on a Tuesday?

And so my day ended where it began -- worn out, but happy to support a great candidate.
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A Week in My Life: Monday

This week I'm participating in Adventuroo's "A Week in My Life" project. In case you wondered what it looks like where I am. Apologies in advance if you're exhausted by Wednesday.

Junius is tracked out this week, so he got to hang out with me at work this morning. Thankfully, he had Daddy's iPad and could watch Toy Story 3 while he ate lunch. He pronounced my office "boring." He's absolutely probably right.

But at least I made a lot of progress on my to-do list today. Turns out that having Junius at my desk is a lot less distracting than having to go to meetings, which were cancelled today.

Even though he got to have pumpkin bread and play with the tape dispenser, Junius was still happy when it was time to leave.

We picked up campaign materials on the way home (the kids and I are volunteering for Christine Kushner at the polls tomorrow!), then went to preschool to get Pippi.

 This is my view in the rearview mirror.

Not sure I'll ever understand why climbing out of the car and carrying your own stuff into the house is so hard. But apparently it is. So. Very. Hard.

Junius's first task after arriving home? Testing out the paper/straw boat he made in my office to see if it would float. Turns out that construction paper? Not so sea-worthy.

Meanwhile, Pippi took control of the iPhone, where she recently discovered the iPod button. She likes to listen to the first 15 seconds of every song. Yes, that's Ben Folds Five. Thankfully it's not one of the songs with the F-bomb.

Here's the bane of my existence. A full dishwasher, waiting to be unloaded. Sort of like Pippi getting out of the car, I don't know why this pains me so. But it does.

While I was unloading said dishwasher, the kids started to get silly. It always begins innocently enough...

...then turns into a wrestling, giggling heap, which is all good and fun until...

...somebody gets poked in the eye...

 ...and (unrelated to the eye wound) someone else lands in time-out.

We ultimately all recovered and were grateful for some playtime outside with our friends across the street. Notice that Junius is travelling sans-training wheels as of yesterday. (Also, if you are a mom with a son, you must take a minute to read my friend's latest post.)

We closed out the day with one of the kids' favorite meals. That is, anything served on the floor in front of the television. Always swore I wouldn't let my kids watch TV during dinner. And yet, here we are. At least we were watching Sesame Street and talking science terms with Grover 2.0.

Good night, y'all. It's been a full day.

P.S. In case you missed the good news on Facebook or Twitter Friday, I got the all clear at the dermatologist! I'm free for another six months. Phew.
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