Attention Span

You might think, given my usual child-centric content, that this post is going to be about how one of my kids can't seem to focus on anything for more than a few minutes before being distracted.

A reasonable assumption, especially because....

Wait, is that a fly buzzing around the kitchen? And wait a sec, I need to check my e-mail.

Umm, where was I?

Oh, yes, posting. About short attention spans. But not a child's -- mine.

I find myself unable, or unwilling, to gather together enough patience to follow through to completion even the simplest of TV shows. Or to read an entire NYT article online. Watch a whole movie in one sitting? Highly unlikely, unless I'm in a theater.

I feel as if I am swallowing bits of information in ever-shrinking chunks, which leaves me with little capacity for a big long luxurious drink.

I blame a few things: Remote controls, for one. Constant interruptions from my kids, for another. The Internet, blog posts, Facebook. My beloved iPod, even, with the alarmingly addictive "next" button that allows me to bypass any song I choose. Thank goodness I don't Twitter, or my attention span would be about the width of a sand flea.

The one saving grace is that I still read books. Some of them quite long! Of course, I usually read them in short snippets, but still.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have about ten other things that simultaneously need what's left of my attention.

Lordy, Lordy, Look Who's...

Twenty-five.

I know that's not quite how the saying goes, but the number that does rhyme has connotations I'm just not up to embracing right now.

So, it appears that I haven't posted since, umm, February. Which means I've missed the chance for a timely post not only ignoring lamenting celebrating my birthday but also acknowledging my blog's fifth anniversary.

Five years! That's a long dip in the self-absorption pool, huh?

I've thought about shuttering the store several times, but I still like having this space open just in case I need to clear out the clutter in my head.

These days the clutter seems to be all about adjusting to life with a 7-year-old. It's been quite the sea change, this recent shift from Curious George to SpongeBob, from PBS to Nickelodeon, from The Magic Treehouse to Captain Underpants.

It seems I'm constantly battling the influence of Other Kids. I'm subjected to almost-daily pleas for a DS. I'm pressed for a timeline of when, exactly, I'll be buying him a cell phone. And how about watching Batman and Indiana Jones movies?

I hold firm. I say no, not yet, when you're older -- and, sometimes, "never". I'm perfectly okay with being a killjoy.

Thanks to our new DVR, we can zip through the commercials that I find even more objectionable than the shows they bracket. I wish there were a similar button we could press to bypass the influence of Other Kids.

And, while I'm indulging in fantasies, I'd also love to get my hands on an anti-aging potion....

Job Insecurity

The economic news is grim. With rounds and rounds of layoffs announced daily, it seems that everyone currently employed should be taking steps to work harder, smarter, whatever it takes to protect his or her job. Rookie mistakes should be avoided at all costs.

Someone needs to remind the Tooth Fairy that even she is not immune from losing her job because of substandard performance.

Take last night, for example. Sean lost his fifth tooth, dutifully placed in under the pillow, and woke up to find ... the tooth. And no cash.

The Tooth Fairy has screwed up big time.

I tried to cover for her. When Sean morosely informed me that the Tooth Fairy didn't come last night, I concocted a lame story about how the snowfall must have gotten in her way. Tonight, I told him, she will definitely visit our house.

I'm telling you, one more slip-up like this and she'll be fluttering those wings at the unemployment office.

Music to My Ears

Allie was watching me play Scrabulous, or whatever its latest incarnation is called.

"Oh, Mommy, you're playing that word game again! I LOVE this game."

"Really? Why's that?"

"Because it's filled with letters, and letters make up words, and I just love words!"

Ah, the sweet sound of validation.

Yawn, Stretch, Try to Come to Life ...*


Although in January that might be asking too much.

So, hi, how are you? I've been feeling like the blogosphere wraith lately -- not posting, not commenting, just ... hovering, I guess.

I don't have much to report from my 2 months of silence. Christmas was great, Sean did not wail in abject disappointment over the fact that Santa didn't bring him a DS system for Christmas (because Santa isn't quite ready to head down the computer game path), and I somehow managed to avoid overindulging in Christmas cookies.

Which brings me to my Christmas present to myself, a gym membership. I haven't belonged to a gym in about 10 years, and it's taken me about 7 years (coinciding pretty much with Sean's birth) to feel like it's okay to devote some time to the selfish pursuit of fitness. I see now that it's not really selfish at all -- it's a gift not just to myself but to my family to be as healthy as possible. So concomitant with my new regimen (going to the gym every day since New Year's, a pace I know I won't be keeping forever) is a continued dietary overhaul. And if you are aware of just how picky my palate is, you know that the foods in play are so limited to begin with that all this tinkering just further narrows the field. But one of the benefits of liking a narrow range of foods to begin with is that I'm used to eating the same things all the time anyway! Jeff's been quite supportive, even though he has been heard to grumble, "Just because you're eating better doesn't mean I have to suffer!"

I feel quite invigorated by this new chapter -- here's hoping it doesn't suffer the fate of most New Year's resolutions.

*How often does one get to quote Dolly Parton?

Thanks, I Think

Allie was twirling around in her room. It's one of the many, many tactics she deploys to delay the bedtime process. Tonight there was sing-song commentary as well:

"Mommy, you are so nice and sweet and appropriate!"

At least someone has finally noticed.

Thank a Vet

Today Sean's school had a Veterans Day assembly. The first graders sang a song that Sean's been practicing for a few weeks now (sample lyrics: "If you love your country thank a vet"), the high school's ROTC showed the students how to fold a flag, the mayor popped by -- Sean was very impressed.

He came home filled with questions about veterans, and soldiers (he's a little unclear on the difference), and weapons, and branches of the military. And he wanted to make a phone call.

"Can I call Uncle B tonight? I want to thank him for serving our country." (Jeff's uncle is a retired army lieutenant colonel; he served in the Vietnam War and the first Gulf War.)

So after dinner, he called his great uncle. I wish I could have recorded his portion of the conversation. Here's an approximate transcription:

"Hi, it's Sean. I just wanted to let you know that we had an assembly for Veterans Day. And there were high schoolers there, and they want to be veterans when they get out of high school.... Are you still there? ... And so I want to thank you for serving our country. I'm proud of you for doing that. I think that's being a risk-taker, right, Mom?"

(Picture me, nodding vigorously.)

"And I wanted to know if you'd like to come to Thanksgiving dinner." (Which is at my sister's house this year. You know, the other side of the family.)

(Pause)

"Okay, then, well, I know it's early, but since I won't see you, Happy Thanksgiving!"

I think I'm kind of proud of you, too, Sean.