Today MommaK and Lucinda are inaugurating the Perfect Post Awards. On the first of every month, people are invited to award a Perfect Post Award to…..well, a perfect post that they read the previous month. The author of that post will receive a button that they can post on their own blog.

I must admit I hesitated to participate because I read so many great posts each month and it is hard for me to single any one of them out. It would make more sense to award one of these every day, but I don’t have the time.

So….without further adieu, I am sending you to Belle On Her Toes this month. While I sputter on and on without saying much of anything, Bonnie says so much about herself while revealing so little. She is an artist at her core and gentle teacher to all of us. She inspires me to live life with the eyes and soul of an artist. Those of us who know her love her and her…..well, perfect posts….and perfect heart.

Of her recent posts, THIS is one that made me smile the most. Go smile yourself and say hi to Belle.

And go visit MommaK or Lucinda to find other Perfect Post links.

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Heck, I had more to ramble on about but for some reason I am speechless. I think I’ll just shut up for tonight and ramble on about Academy Award movies, my suddenly always talking two year old, and sibling rivalry another day.

But a question: How did Crash make the cut for Best Picture and Pride and Prejudice not?

I have a theory. The men in the Academy are threatened by Mr. Darcy.

Yes? Am I on to something?

Oh. Yes. Shut up.

Okay.

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Update: My readers seem to love Crash. So tell me, what did you love about it? I didn’t hate it, I just didn’t think it came together that well for me as a whole.

I have never met a Pride and Prejudice I didn’t love.

This one was no exception.

The DVD came out this weekend. I will be back when I come out of the spell. I don’t want to leave England yet.

To be continued…..

This morning:

Rachel: (Experimenting with sounds. Noises, noises, more noises and then…) ….Ho-ho-ho

Me: Santa! I didn’t know you look like that. Thank you for bringing us presents.

(Pause while Rachel smiles and looks a little stunned by my uninvited intrusion into her noise making.)

Me again: Hey, wait a minute. How come you never bring ME any presents.

Rachel; But I’m your present. I’m your treasure, Mama.

(Oh yeah. I forgot.)

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Rachel wants a purse that Hannah is playing with.

Rachel to Hannah: That’s actually mine.

Hannah pointing to the doll Rachel is playing with: That’s actually mine.

Rachel looks stunned.

Touche.

If you just found out that your hair “stylist” (oh how fancy that sounds) moved her practice into “the city,’ and she is one of two stylists in your life that have known how to cut/highlight your thick, coarse, unruly hair properly, would you:

A. track her down in the city and make an appointment to go get your hair cut there whatever the cost.

B. go get your hair cut with a different, closer stylist, on a friend’s recommendation. The friend has curly hair, too, but not thick or coarse.

C. never get your hair cut again until you end up on one of those Oprah makeover shows, a desperate measure taken by your embarassed teenagers.

D. throw your hands up and start going to Super Cuts again.

E. shave all your hair off and go for the bald look.

I think theoreticlly I’m leaning towards A, but my lazy butt is pulling me towards C.

She made my hair look really purty. It was a brief, but wonderful relationship. Two years.

Sniff.

Hannah and I had a few hours this morning on our own while Rachel played with friends. I took her to a small playground. The weather was beautiful. No one was there. (Were they all skiing?)

Who would play with Hannah?

That would be me.

“Babe? Want dinner, Babe?” she asked, coaxing me into the a little playhouse and serving me wood-chips.

Somewhere along the way this past week I went from Baby to Babe.

We pretended to eat our woodchips, cut the piles of “dinner” with our sticks, and then she took my hand and led me outside.

I helped her onto the swing. “Next to me?” she suggested. We swung next to each other for a while.

Then we walked some more and she saw a pail and shovel.

“Shovel, Babe?” she offered, handing me the shovel and encouraging me to fill it up with woodchips as she watched in her maternal way. “No, Babe, like dis.” she said, pouring some woodchips over the bucket and packing it down.

Some more time went by.

Suddenly Hannah sat on the bench.

“Play, Babe!” she ordered, pointing to the play structure. I hesitated and invited her to come climb with me.

“No, Babe, go slide.”

Tentatively, I climbed the steps as she looked on from her position on the bench. I sat on the top of the slide sheepishly looking at the cars driving by. Then I slid down.

This is getting plain old weird.

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Do I ever make you want to be a Mom? It’s a weird question, I know, because most of you already are moms, but I am a finalist at One Women’s World for the “Makes You Want to be a Mom” award. You can vote until Monday, February 27, so make your way over there if you are so inclined. You can only vote once. Thank goodness.

You can vote HERE. You don’t have to come back here and tell me if you did or didn’t. Keep it your secret.

Thanks MommaK, and anyone else who I don’t know about, for nominating me.

Rachel and I have been partners in this cold/flu we’ve been suffering through.

She had a fever on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. I made it through Friday night, finishing my deadlines and hosting my book club, and by Saturday morning I felt like I had been hit by a truck. Rachel’s fever was down, but she suffered cold symptoms with me through the weekend.

My low point was Saturday afternoon when my husband had to go out to get something and Hannah was napping while I was really sick in bed. Rachel stayed home, since she was still pretty sick, and was supposed to be playing quietly in her room. That wasn’t happening. I asked nicely. I pleaded in hushed tones. And then I snapped, picking her up and putting her into bed, while scolding her with a lost temper. Tears followed. I was too sick to help her through the tears. I collapsed back in bed and waited for her Dad to come home.

Later I took a hot shower, got dressed, and apologized to her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry. I was scared that Hannah was going to wake up and I wouldn’t be able to take care of her.”

A mature smile spread across Rachel’s face. “Oh.” she said very seriously, working it out in her mind. “So you weren’t really mad at me. You were scared that you couldn’t take care of Hannah. That’s funny.”

“That’s funny?” I smiled.

“I could have taken care of her for you. I would have gotten in the crib with her and taken care of her.”

Honestly, she probably could have done that, too.

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Last night, Rachel was bouncing off the walls after dinner. At one point I said, “You must have cabin fever.” She asked me to explain it to her and I did.

Later, she was bouncing off the walls again on her way to bed. I raised my eyebrows and asked, “What is going on?!”

“Oh, I have that fever thing,” she answered nonchalantly.

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I think we turned the corner today. Rachel’s appetite came back. I organized two cabinets.

Good timing, because now I’ve got that fever thing.

Hope it’s nice out tomorrow. No school this week. “Ski Week.” It’s a California thing.

Too bad I’m a transplant, not quite Californian enough to have organized real skiing.

I am very good at throwing out grand promises. I promised you a long post about movies that included romantic memories of movies in Scotland. And then I got sick, and still am. And now I’m thinking, what WAS romantic about going to movies in Scotland, anyway? It made sense at the time. Hmmmmm. More on that later.

Movies. I’ll start with Curious George. Before going to see this film, Rachel wondered whether the movie was going to be similar to the book. She particularly wanted to know whether George would talk in the movie. He doesn’t, thank goodness. Generally, though, the movie was different than the book, and that was fine by me, not being a huge Curious George fan. I like the books, but they are definitely not up there in my top ten of children’s books.

The movie was delightful. It was sweet, and artistically fresh and warm. It was…well, yellow…in a good way. It glowed a brightly warm, or warmly bright yellow. On top of this, Jack Johnson’s soundtrack was hip and loving. It is a perfect movie for young children, from age two to at least seven, maybe even ten or so, depending on how cynical/innocent the child is.

My only complaint is that the plot was a little over the head of young children, who the movie is aimed at. Most won’t understand the politics of a failing museum, and the evil son of the museum director, was like a character out of a bad Saturday morning cartoon. I would have tinkered with the plot line, if given the opportunity.

But all in all, a refreshing family movie for the little ones. Hannah was so pleased with the ritual of being at the movies. She sat in her chair, put her drink in the cupholder, didn’t want to get up to go get snacks with me, and stayed there for about half of the movie, ending up in my lap by the end. Much improved from last year. Rachel gave the movie high marks, but she did think the film was different than the book.

Capote. We were not very enthusiastic about seeing this film. I had my heart on Walk the Line or Pride and Prejudice. We chose it because it was one of the few movies that matched our babysitting hours, and it got excellent reviews. I liked this movie, though, not having read “In Cold Blood,” or knowing much about Truman Capote going into it. The first thing I liked about the movie was having Nell Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird) show up in an early scene. She was a central character throughout the film. Harper Lee and Truman Capote were childhood friends. I learned after the film that Harper Lee modelled her character, Dill, after Capote. I was sick yesterday, and read To Kill a Mockingbird again. Such a clean, lovingly written book. I think the first fictional character I ever had a mature crush on was Atticus Finch, though I might not have realized it at the time. Now back to Capote. What I liked the movie were its subtleties. Capote was gay and the movie gently portrayed his relationship with his partner, but the movie was not about homosexuality. The Death Penalty plays a part in this movie, but the movie does not take a stand on the death penalty. Instead, this movie is about writing, I think, and the ethical choices we make when writing. And it is more specifically about Capote as a writer, his relationship with one of the murderers of “In Cold Blood,” and the ethics there. Very interesting. Very well done.

Now on Scotland….what did I want to say about that? It seems so silly now that I’ve advertised it as romantic. It’s just this. We were students in Scotland, living off student loans, and whatever we made in part-time jobs (I worked at a woolen-mill among other places.) We were on a budget, about 35 pounds a week (about $70) for the two of us. If we had enough money at the end of the week, we could go to a movie. There was one movie theater in town, and my husband would always let me know what was playing that week. That would build the excitement. We would get Cornetto ice-cream cones in the theater, if we had the money, and sit and watch the Cornetto ice cream ad before the movie started. I still remember the ad, “Just one Cornetto…give it to me” sung by an Italian opera singer to the tune of O Solo Mio. And then there was this really humorous public service ad about an old man and a condom. I guess you had to be there. The same ads played every week.

Why did I want to write about this? Because when we had a night out last week I was thinking we should do something more romantic than go to a movie,

But then I remembered our movie nights in St. Andrews, the town that will always have our hearts, and in many other places. Sometimes the simplest things make the most romantic memories.

That’s my story anyway.

One sweet 4 1/2 year old home with fever.

Two assignments due Friday.

Book Club meets here Friday.

Museum closed until the weekend.

To all interested: Curious George was lovely. Also saw Capote which was very good. I’m still thinking about it. I will do a long post on these movies and movies in general this weekend. It will include romantic memories of going to movies in Scotland.

I wanted to do a post like this.

Instead, I was up past midnight doing this.

And preparing the materials to make these in Rachel’s class tomorrow.

(The heart on the left is a finger puppet.)

So off to bed.

And honey, what Sir Philip Sydney and Bernadette said.

I love you. You have my heart.

And the rest of my weary self tomorrow.

In fact, I think you’re pretty much stuck with me.

We’ll talk. (Wink)

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Now that was silly.

A slightly, only slightly, different topic. The effect of blogging on marriage. Listen to this. It’s cute.

Thank goodness you don’t blog, honey.

Thank you for the memories, Michelle Kwan.

For all the fields of gold you’ve taken us through.

Now rest, sweetie, rest.

And we’ll wait to see where you go next.

I will remember Michelle for the journey she has taken me on these past twelve years, culminating in her most emotionally stunning skate, the Salt Lake City exhibition skate to Fields of Gold. Watch it here by clicking on the Fields of Gold Gala link in the 2002 Olympic section.

There were tears of joy on her face the last half of the skate. There were tears of joy on ours. The commentators were silenced by tears.

“Success isn’t always measured by a gold medal.” Peggy Fleming commented as the crowd roared.

Success is about the heart. It is about the journey. It is about beauty and strength, and the excellence of that combination. It is about how one shares one’s heart, excellence and beauty.

This is the lesson that Michelle taught us, and it will be her legacy.

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HeatherW has created a tribute to Michele’s Fields of Gold Program here.

Here is an excerpt:

“Fields of Gold is arguably Michelle’s most beautiful and inspiring programs. Choreographed by Sarah Kawahara, it is Michelle’s exhibition program during the 2001/02 season. After the Olympics, some say that Fields of Gold, known among fans as “FOG,” is a bittersweet program. But FOG has nothing to do with Gold, as in a gold medal. The program is a tribute to lost lives and unfulfilled dreams, and about Michelle’s love for the sport of skating. FOG debuted at “A Skating Tribute: The Legacy of the 1961 US World Figure Skating Team,” an event which honored the 18 skaters and coaches who perished on their way to the 1961 World Championships.”

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Fields of Gold, Written by Sting (Sung by Eva Cassidy in the Kwan performance)

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Among the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We will walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As you lie in fields of gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold

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This one’s for MommaK, from my backyard. Sorry, no snow.

10 minutes ago,

“Mom, what were we were supposed to do that year? I mean, what did we do that year?”

Rachel pointing to the dry-erase board that you see in the photo in my previous post–the board with my 2006 New Year’s resolution written on it.

Her timing is a bit off, but at least she sees it as a team effort.

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Thank you for all your advice. I’ll give an update sometime. And Indigo, the paint is Benjamin Moore Blue Orchid. It’s much prettier than it looks in the photo. In the photo it looks like a grey blue, but it’s a luminescent mix of purple of blue. Really stunning. We love it so much, we had all the bedrooms painted with it and because the lighting is different in every room, it looks slightly different in each room.

Gosh, I just re-read the last paragraph. How boring.

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Any Mary Shelly fans? I’m reading Frankenstein for next week’s book club. I will give a report next week.

Updated: I forgot to ask my most urgent question. See #8 and 9.

I need advice. Can you help me with any of these?

1. Apparently, my dog barks when we’re away from the house. She knows how to unlock the back door and get out in the yard, so the barking is a nuisance. What can we do to get her to stop?

2. I just finished a two-week detox diet, where I could eat only rice (and some other grains), vegetables, fruit, beans, some nuts, soy sauce, green tea…and a few other things. I feel great but don’t know where to go from here. I’m considering trying to go 80% vegan, but what do I cook for my family. Do you know any vegan cookbooks that have recipe my kids will like? (They like beans and rice.) Or do you have any suggestions on diets that will keep me feeling clean and energetic and are family friendly?

3. Yoga. My back bend. I can get up into an arch with my head on the ground but I can’t push up yet. I don’t have the arm strength. Is it really a strength issue, or am I doing something wrong? If it’s arm strength, will that just come in time? Also, what’s a good morning wake up routine (about 5 minutes).

4. Curious George. Is this a movie I can take a two year old to? Rachel would also like to know if the movie follows the book. She says Curious George doesn’t talk in the book and she wanted to know if he talks in the movie. She likes it when movies follow closely to the book. In theory, anyway.

5. Letting Go. My two year old is showing every sign of being ready for potty training. She has a dry diaper most of the time and doesn’t pee until she’s sleeping. She tells me when she’s going to poop and then does it in private. She’s getting bad diaper rashes. And yet, she can’t let go and put it in the pot. She’s scared of letting go. While my oldest was not potty trained either at 27 months, she did know how to let go. So….how do I get her to relax and get the flow going?

6. A good bra. Need advice. Enough said.

7. What music should I put on now while I do my deskwork?

8. Crafts. I am doing the Valentine’s Day crafts in Rachel’s class next week. Help! I need two or more ideas.

9. What are the advantages/disadvantages of having your own domain. How much does it cost.

10. Should I switch back to blogger comments. Haloscan makes mine disappear after a month or two. I’ve lost a lot of good advice this way.

There’s more, but I can’t remember. Another day.

Thanks!

By the way, I promised you this photo. I haven’t quite found zen yet, but we’re getting there.

My husband made that little reading desk for me out of cherry wood many years ago. The photo was taken 20 minutes ago so you can see our weather is nice this morning.

If you look at number two of my New Year’s Resolutions in the photo, it is written in blue. That’s because when I was writing them down with Rachel next to me chattering in my ear about what I was doing, I actually forgot what my second resolution was. Not a good omen. I do have book club meeting at my house next week so that should get my butt in gear.

My two year old, Hannah, attends pre-school a few mornings a week. This leaves a few mornings at home, just the two of us, without her big sister.

We drop Rachel off at pre-school, come home, unwind, go to a park, cuddle, get lunch ready, whatever is on our agenda.

This past week, something new has entered our together time.

“Baby?” she says, looking at me, head cocked to the side, chin pressed against her chest indicating serious “mama”-ness.

“‘ ‘mon baby,” she says.

I take her hand and she leads me to the couch. I lie down and she puts a blanket over me.

I remember when at almost exactly the same age, Rachel started role play. We were sitting in a hotel room in Chicago while dad was working, and she pointed to me and said, “You Susan. Me Gavin.” Susan is a friend of mine, Gavin her son, Rachel’s best friend at the time.

It was easy to role play with Rachel. She was happy to have me respond verbally. If I was “baby” I could say, “Mom, I have to go do the dishes,” and she’d say “okay” and work it into the plot line.

Hannah, on the other hand, is used to Rachel’s physical presence during pretend play. This morning “Mama” poured us both bowls of dry cereal. She asked me to sit at the table. I wasn’t hungry so I pretended to eat. She wasn’t content and tried to push the cereal into my mouth. Irritated with the direction the role play was going I said, “Mama, do you want to go do laundry?”

“No, baby! Sit.”

And so I sat, resigning myself to savoring her round cheeks, her Dorothy Hamill cut falling on her face, the clearness of her eyes, the intensity of expression as she interacted with “baby.”

Sometimes after I drop Rachel off on a Hannah morning, we are sitting in the car, Hannah strapped in her carseat, me in the front seat driving. I’m tuning into the Irish music I have playing from my ipod and I suddenly hear from the back, “Okay, Baby?”

This is the truth: I get an image in my head of me wearing a big diaper driving the car and my mama, Hannah, strapped in the back, and my world suddenly seems so bizarre.

My bizarre, sublime Hannah mornings. I feel them, fleeting, melting away from me already. I think I’ll bottle them up.

February is my favorite time of year here in the Bay Area. After months of rain, everything is suddenly lush and green. It’s dry here in the summer, so the rain and damp are welcome, especially once the rain slows down and we get to go outdoors. Today there is no rain. It’s sunny and glorious and the hills are covered with a new coat of luminescent green. In a few weeks the cherry blossoms will come out.

And still, Hannah saw her first snow today. In an ice-skating rink. Our first time skating as a family. I forgot to tell Rachel that ice-skating was hard. This made the first hour frustrating for her. We took a break, talked it through, and despite more tears and frustration, she made lots of progress and now has something to be proud of and tell her grandpa about when we head off to his superbowl party in a bit. Hannah balanced well on the skates outside the rink, and wanted to try skating by herself, but then gave up. Once she realized I was not going to carry her on the ice, she was happy to sit one of the chairs they provided and have me push her around the rink. How dorky was it that when “The Rainbow Connection” came on over the loudspeakers I was in heaven–feeling like I was in fifth grade again with my Mork and Mindy socks.

This is terrible of me, but I have to say it because I can.

Happy Spring!!

Yes, Raehan gloats occasionally.

(Don’t hate me. In September I will be thirsting for rain and envying your early fall.)

Oh, I almost forgot. I am THRILLED to report that I placed in the BOB Awards. Third Place. I’m really, really thankful and honored. Moreover, I got to stand next to the wonderful Minerva on the podium. My other competitors are wonderful, too. Woo-hoo!! A big thanks to True Blue Semi-Crunchy Mommy for nominating me. And thank you all for voting for me. Who would have thought? Not me.

If you haven’t been here in a while, go read the last three posts. Pretty please? If you’re on my blogroll, you came to my party and I want you to know how much fun you had.

(For Parts I and II read previous posts. We are celebrating my one year blog anniversary. For some reason, I don’t want to call it a blogiversary. What’s wrong with me?)

I walked past the family room, where the karaoke party was starting to get wild, and walked into the kitchen. There sat Zinnia discussing the latest installment of her novel with Michele. I wondered if she had finally seen the second season of Six Feet Under. Of course, I had never seen the first season, so I’m ot sure why this mattered to me.

Hillbilly Mama was also in the kitchen whipping up some chex mix. She couldn’t see very well so she clapped three times to turn on the lights. We heard a hollow knock three times coming from the walls. The hair stood up on the back of our necks. “EEEEEEEEE” “I think it’s Uncle Jerry,” I explained.

Sarcasmom arrived, apologizing for being late. She had come from watching the Blog Olympics, and was delayed when her car hit one of those people shoving a donation bucket in your face at a major intersection. Thank goodness the injuries turned out to be minor. We lectured the kids against fund-raising that way.

PK rushed in with a big plate of cheese and Branston pickel sandwhiches. “Sorry I’m late, sugarpea.” She had the most beautiful eyes. I offered her something to drink and she told me she would like a TheraFlu with one of those little drink umbrellas on top. Later I gave her a present I’d been saving for her. A St. Joseph statue. She joined Catherine Newman, Amy, and Stephanie who were decorating cupcakes for Isaac’s birthday. We all sang happy birthday and he was thrilled.

Shannon was so thoughtful. She came in with an enormous bouquet of Daffodils. It looked like she had picked a whole field of them. Her husband had chocolate, and her three kids brought new crayons.

I ushered them to the karaoke room, where Kiki was singing her ABC’s beautifully. The crowd was smitten with this extraordinary girl.

Sheri walked in wearing a Best Housekeeper medal around her neck. When her son, Ethan, saw me he thought I was Obi-Wan Kenobi from Star Wars. He showed me his light saber.

Better Safe Than Sorry walked in right behind Shannon. She apologized for being late. Apprently, her new dog Bailey knocked over her Yucca plant. Then got caught up talking to her daughter on MSN. I asked her to explain what it means to talk to someone on MSN. I also thanked her for being my #1 supporter in NaNoWriMo. She’s a good egg.

Shane stopped the karaoke madnes and gave a 1578 word farewelll speech. We all clapped and gave him hugs. I can’t wait for his final post…..to come somtime this year. I hope he finds his About A Boy scene. Mostly because I love that movie.

After Shane’s speech Shelli started a volleyball game in the backyard. Boy was she spot on. After the game, she set up the playroom and took over the childcare. What a sweetie Shelli is. It must be that Minnesota air.

Cori cartwheeled through our hallway and then stopped and asked, “Where’s Norm?”

The doctors came with grandma. I’m not sure whose grandma she was, Sigmund, Carl or Alfreds. She was carrying a chocolate cheesecake and only handed it to me relectantly. “It was so pricey.” she sighed, cherishing it with her eyes. I immediately cut a slice for her.

Sleeping Mommy had just celebrated her sixth wedding anniversary. We hugged and talked about those six years, which she has written about in such raw, agonizingly beautiful ways. In many ways these six years, (not the marriage, but the years) brought her through hell and back, but look at what she accomplished. She gave birth to three children in six years. Three lives in six years. Talk about accomplishment. I reminded her of that. She is a a strong, smart cookie. I look forward to reading about her next six years.

Kevin’s band, Small Shiny Things started playing. Dancing started.

I screamed when I saw Arethusa and congratulated on her Law School acceptance letters. Then I sat her down to talk about New York City and Europe. I am so excited about her future, and yet….and yet, I feel like I’m going to lose her. I think I must be her mother but that makes me feel too old. Of course, I’m only 25, so we must be sisters instead.

“D” pulled up in a moving van. I peered into the cab. In addition to her and her husband, I saw a dog, three cats and a Gecko. She emptied everyone out and helped Shelli run the party daycare. This woman is moving (pun intended) in the right direction.

Sugar Mommy parked right behind her. Also with three kids. “STUPID GROUNDHOG” she shouted as she walked through the door. Then her husband ask her if he should heat up the Beef Stir Fry that they brought, and they both laughed naughtily.

Aka Monty gave me a hug and a high five as she walked in after Sugar Mommy. She looked to the party crowd and shouted, “How do bloggers do it?” “Bloggers do it in their underwear!” i shouted back. “God, I wish I could have a cigarette.” she later confided. “Wait, I have something better.” I said, and got Helga, a swedish massage therapist with strong man-hands and a bad temper. Scheize.

Catherine/Fountain Penran past doing her daily two-mile run. “I’ll be there, soon.” When she showed up later, she was riding a magnificent horse. “Sorry, sweetie, I don’t have the same views from my deck.” I said. “We can tie him up in front here.” Lima Bean helped hitch the horse.

Next came Muzikdude with the Duckslayers and Bunnybashers. They thought this was another Beer Exchange. Muzikdude’s mom was following him holding out a bowl of collard greens. He ignored her. I offered to try them. Not bad.

Zoe and Indigo came wearing Mickey Mouse hats. “Should I go to an accupuncturist?” she asked me. I thought it couldn’t hurt. We were both retraining ourselves to become left hand mousers on the computer. Carpal Tunnel symptoms.

“Anyone want any egg sandwhiches?” asked J. Star, wandering into the room. I did. We talked about Cincinnati. I asked her to give me a lesson on my new camera.

Elle had her two sons with her and asked me immediately if there were any grapes at the party. “Uh, No.” ‘Thank God!” she answered. Two scares in one year is enough for this strong, interesting, fun-loving soul.

Running2K had quieted down the party and in her fresh, effervescent way, asked everyone to mention something they were thankful for.

“I’m thankful for my three husbands! And Ferris Bueller!” shouted Jersey Girl with one arm around Billy Lane.

“I’m thankful for the Blog Olympics participants! And my new job!” said Barbara.

Kate ran down the hallway singing Tra-la-la in her beautiful free-spirited way and said, “I’m thankful that I passed my exam! And for my daughters, for football, and blogging….but not for lists.” I didn’t blame her.

Weary Hag added, “I’m thankful for my new husband, and that I’m going to the gym again.”

Mamacita, looking very much like a heroine, walked over to Genuine, put his arm around him and said, “I’m thankful for this man. Who is really only human, and has worked his butt off with the best intentions.”

Wendy walked in the door and said, “Wendy directed me here.” We welcomed her. I asked her what she was thankful for. “I’m thankful for movie tunes like Mrs. Robinson and Moon River.” I nodded enthusiastically.

Brenda said quietly, “I’m thankful for teenage and toddler girls. And for writing.”

David walked into the room. “I’m thankful that Miz S ate all the spaghetti because I’m not allowed to eat wheat and I love Spaghetti.” I’m sure Miz S was feeling thankful that she was still so damn sexy after eating all that spaghetti. Not to mention funny, kind, and naughty.

Carmi agreed that these were all beautiful sentiments. in his thoughtful, appreciative way, he had something nice to observe about all of us.

“I”m thankful for all of you,” I said.

And then I gave an awkwarly off-the-cuff speech.

(Audioblog cut out quite a few of my words so here is a transcription, without all the ums. I had no notes, so be kind.)

“Well thank you all for coming to my party. I don’t think under normal circumstances I am one to give a speech at a party of about 200 people, kids included. But, this is a special occasion. It’s my one year blogging anniversary. And I wanted to do somethng different. I have expressed through writing in many different posts what you all mean to me and what blogging has meant to me. I wanted to try to something different, to do that in the written (correction: spoken) word which I am not as good with I have a hard time finishing a sentence in the real world.

“A year ago for some I started entering old journal posts, for some strange reason, onto this blog. So that’s what you see the first day or so of posting. And then I started writing. I don’t really remember what I expected out of the thing. I certainly didn’t expect to care for all of you. I didn’t expect to get this many readers. I didn’t expect to enjoy reading your posts so much.

I do get frustrated with this whole process sometimes simply because my time is limited and I feel like I can’t keep up with it all, but I won’t quit because all of you, and also because it’s been a wonderful form of self expression for me and I think it has helped guide me and all of you have helped in that process too.

This is getting long. Let me thank you all. And to another great year. I hope to learn more about all the new people that I’ve met through this.

Thank you.”

Alas, it was time to say good-bye. As we watched everyone file into their cars, I kissed my husband’s sexy face and thanked him for tolerating my blogging. I remembered the look of horror a year earlier when he read my 100 Things and the first few items were about him. He no longer fears that I will start posting his old love letters on my blog.

“Thank You!” I told this lovely, sexy man.

“I’m proud of you,” he answered.

But just as he said this, we noticed that people were not driving away in their cars. One by one, they grabbed sleeping bags from their cars and filed into MommaK and Hoss’s front door.

A look of horror spread across my husband’s face. I was just glad the party was over.

I can’t wait to see DaddyK’s (K diddy?) face when he finds out.

See you all in the morning?

(Did I skip you? Please tell me and I’ll put you right in. Same goes for the blogroll. I did not intentionally exclude anyone.)

(Hello! If you’re lost, read previous post.)

My party continued. We left off when Last Girl on Earth was getting things rolling.

But first, I should tell you about something that happened earlier at the party. I was going to leave it out, but you are a brave group. Jen of Breed Em And Weep saw a floating orb in my bedroom. She was sitting on my bed with four-year daughter Sophie watching Sound of Music when the orb appeared.

Can somebody please tell me what a floating orb is?

Anyway, I was distressed. Not because of the orb, but because Jen was screaming so loud I couldn’t talk to her about Christopher Plumber. I tried Sound of Music out on Rachel when she was three. She liked it alright, but I had to give her my “best of” version. Is four really the magic age for passing down Sound of Music to a daughter utterly and completely?

Okay, continuing from Last Girl and moving down blogroll.

Since things were rolling I decided to get the camera out. Laura and little Michael were singing a verse to Last Girl’s song and in the middle of it Michael kissed Laura on the cheek. I got an amazing photo. Then I turned and got another great shot of Lima Bean discussing Halo 2 with Blog Boy. I rudely interrupted to ask Lima Bean about his camp experience and he answered me politely, but they were both relieved when I moved on to greet Lisa and family.

Lisa and I talked about raising girls, and then stopped abruptly. The hair on the back of our necks stood up as we watched her youngest play peek-a-boo with, well nobody, in the adjoining room. Was it Uncle Jerry’s ghost? We looked at each other. Then we held hands and welcomed Uncle Jerry to the party, letting him know that he was welcome and dearly loved by his family. I secretly asked him to take the floating orb with him on the way out the door.

I peered through my front window. Where was Lucinda? I had asked her to bring the party potatoes. Then I saw a group of women sitting at the neighbor’s door. “Lucinda, is that you?” She started towards me in a backless evening gown. Her well-spoken, handsome husband was helping her along. A few fans followed behind him. “You gave me the wrong address. Here are the friggin’ potatoes.” My eyebrows lifted. Her hubs smiled, patted me on the back and assured me she would be back to herself very soon. “Gosh, her breasts are perky.” I thought. I was suddenly glad I had opted out of wearing my track suit. The potatoes were delicious by the way.

Lucinda’s mood lifted upon seeing Isabella’s daughter, Helena. We introduced Helena to the pre-school gang and off they ran, singing Chim-chim chiree. I took photos to capture all the cuteness. Beaucoup, beaucoup. Cuteness, that is.

Mal brought a whole box of ripe peaches and his face looked fresh from a day of sailing. He offered to take all the kids out on the boat. The mothers shook their heads and smiled. He shrugged and asked me why I had taken my Christmas tree down already.

Mar brought her new virtual cat, Neko. I put Neko in the garage to catch a mouse or two. Charlie went nuts. Mar and I talked about her yoga class, the snow in Spain, and living in Germany.

Margaret was tired after a week of teaching and all of Alison’s gymnastic meets, but we were thrilled to see each other. I introduced her to Isabella and Helena. Margaret is a French teacher.

When Mary walked in I asked her how her lunch went today. “Uh, interesting,” she answered and winked at me. I introduced her to my husband and later whispered to him in my sexiest whisper, “Have you heard of a nooner, honey?” Then I remembered that I’ve got two knee-biters at home every noon. “What? You’re mumbling.” he said. “Never mind.” Mary was in the other room now, waving one hand up in the air to the music and holding up a rotary phone in the other, giggling hysterically.

Meegs was all excited about Pittsburgh playing in the superbowl. I introduced her to Belle. (hee-hee) Meegs was also thrilled that it was her year on the Chinese astrology chart. The year of the dog. I then introduced her to Charlie. She gave a lesson to Charlie, who listened with hears up head cocked to the side. “Dogs are honest, straightforward and friendly. In spite of their concern for others, social graces and fancy parties do not impress them.” Charlie responded by shoving her nose up Meegs behind. I was mortified.

SRP brightened my home with beautiful roses. “It’s February,” she explained. “I am brightening the month with color and uplifting thoughts.“ “Have you met Dave?” I asked, thanking her.

Michele arrived with cast and crutches……and her mother. Oh, and she said she brought somebody named Heidi, too, but I never saw her. “Is Mr. Wonderful coming?” I asked. “I’m sure he’ll be here at some point, “ she said in a sexy voice, smiling and looking over at my blogroll. “May I use your washroom?”

Suddenly, Michele’s mother chimed in, “Why didn’t you do that before we left the house? You always say you don’t have to go, but then ten minutes later…..”

I heard an uproar of laughter. J & J’s Mom’s son had just told everyone his penis had fallen off. I hugged his mom and we caught up everything. This is a woman to admire.

Talk about women to admire. Minerva approached me next. I was thrilled to finally meet her. We discussed the difficulties of her latest chemo treatment, and then I introduced her to Stephanie and Margaret. Great teachers unite! (also with Miz S, J & J’s Mom, Bonnie, so many others here.)

The wind blew in as Miss Meliss walked through the door. She shut it, looked out the window, and then poured out the most hauntingly comforting description of wind I had every heard. We decided to cuddle up with blankets, read Laura Ingalls, and listen to the wind blow.

And then I remembered that Miz S also loves Laura Ingalls. I yelled for her and we all nestled under the blankets. After a bit, I offered Miz S some appetizers. “Oh no thanks. I’m so over all that junk food.” Twenty minutes later I saw her STUFFING her face with spaghetti. I think it was her. I saw the backside. She was wearing those sexy jeans again.

CMHL came through the door with her Ausralian Shepard puppy, Mango, and held up a size 4 pair of pants. Anybody want these? “Not me” I answered. A big smudge of Chocolate Torte was on my chin.

Christine arrived with family from Disney World. Ella and Rachel were thrilled to be meeting again. They compared notes. Yup. Both terrified of the up-close Disney characters. “But maybe when I’m 5 1/2 I won’t be.” Rachel suggested with uncertainty.

Mrs. Darling came without family. She was taking a break. Your recent posts have moved me so, I told her. I’m routing for Tink.

Charlie was just about to sneak a burrito from the table when Mrs. Dort called me. “That will give her awful gas,” she explained. I grabbed the burrito. We quickly changed subjects and discussed her new wallpaper designs.

Mrs. Mogul surprised us by coming all the way from England despite having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I’m having this strong feeling it’s a girl. G-I-R-L. (I’m actually thinking she’s in labor as I’m writing this. Am I right?)

Kimberly, the eloquent architect came through wondering if we had any Frank Lloyd Wright buildings in the area. My husband jumped in and filled her in on all the details. When they were done talking she started making Gingerbread pancakes. That got the pre-school gang in the room. Their parents, too.

CowGirl Up walked through the door carrying the karaoke equipment. “Where’s MommaK?” I asked. “She’s not here yet?”

Vicki, the beautiful, creative animal lover, was giggling in a corner together with Hoss. “Vicki, your photographs have been amazing lately. Do you know Paul Sveda? He’s also an amazing photographer.” I introduced them. By this time Hoss was slowly making the rounds of the room, listening attentively and appreciatively to every soul there, throwing an occasional wise-crack in. This funny man has a heart of Gold.

Sadly, I had to interrupt him. “Go find MommaK! She’s lost.” He was off.

For that matter, where was Amy? Ah, there she was. Contemplating something very seriously while sitting on the steps. “Hey, Amy!” “Hi. I can’t decide where to hold Isaac’s birthday party.” “Well……what about here, right now.” Our faces lit up.

But then…..a smell…..more than 100 people pushed past us out the door. It was hideous.

As I gagged, I glanced behind the crowd. Charlie was laying on the carpet looking uncomfortable.

The burrito.

Things happen for a purpose. As we all huddled in the wind outside, I saw long flowing curly hair on the neighbor’s porch. MommaK! Hoss was with her. We looked at the For Sale sign together and knew. We knew that a year of blogging had brought us to this very moment. It was destiny. She and Hoss would buy this house. We all hugged, kissed and cried. Everyone cheered.

“It’s time for Karaoke!” cried Ribbiticus. Being the fruity scent lover that she was she had deodorized my house while we were out. As we paraded in, she handed out lip balm to everyone. More kissing and crying.

What shall we sing? I asked. Poopie, keeping the faith, sang a few Lou Reed songs. What an enriching soul she is. Then Marie stood up and belted out a few Raffi numbers. At first the crowd wasn’t sure how to respond, but then, one of Lucinda’s husband’s fans recognized Marie from a photo taken of her in a swim aerobics class. This fan and her companion started screaming with excitement.

To be continued on Friday starting with Real E Fun on my blogroll and moving down. No pun intended.

(Did I skip you? Are you not on there? Let me know.)

Well, I didn’t exactly tell you my party was going to be celebrating my first year of blogging, did I? Now you know.

Thank you all for coming. Amazing turnout really. So much to remember. Here’s a recap.

(Going down my blogroll from top to bottom. If you are not on here, it means I haven’t reached you yet. I didn’t forget you. I’m only about 1/3 of the way down. I’ll pick up with Laura tomorrow and keep working my way down.)

I rarely am a calm hostess, and this time was no different. My nerves got the better of me waiting for everyone to arrive. In my frantic state, I had my husband putting up the last of the wall hangings that had never made it back up after our house was painted. He muttered something about crazy blogging under his breath, but obliged. He’s a good egg. In fact, he’s a mighty fine egg.

The girls, who were playing with a babysitter in the playroom, kept running to me for attention. Hannah wanted cuddles so I didn’t have time to lay the appetizers out.

I was thrilled when Xtessa showed up with her sister, some dimsum, and a bag full of firecrackers. They had flown from Hong Kong directly after watching Chinese New year fireworks. Unfortunately Anya stayed home. Rachel was disappointed. I complimented Xtessa on her poetry as we chatted and finished setting out the food.

Unga Chunga showed up next, letting us know that her daughters would be a little late. They were picking up the Karaoke machine, she told me. Her phone kept ringing, and she was constantly checking the caller I.D. The calls were coming from Annapolis. We decided to ignore the calls and I asked her what hair product she was using. We have some of the same hair issues.

Claire arrived next in a London Taxi cab, with a bag full of books. I gave her a big hug and we discussed her trip to New York. She handed me a lovely bottle of Vodka. That was all she’d be drinking, she let me know. It was great to finally sit down for a heart to heart. What a sweet soul she is. I predict very good things in her future.

Belle was the next to come, accompanied by her impressive kiddos. Her husband was out of town and unable to attend. They had just come from watching the Chronicles of Narnia. I gave her a big kiss on the cheek and asked her to show me how to do a particular backbending Bikram yoga pose. She looked so lovely trying it. I gave it a whirl and fell flat on my back. As I was lying on my back, I thanked her for introducing me to yoga. We put on some Mozart and she handed me a box of Mozartkugeln. My girls were delighted with the company of her children, who were lovely and even did a little dusting for me.

Melody and family came fresh from Lakes Entrance. They were looking spiffy. Melody was wearing black Mary Janes and a new pair of jeans. Monet had a swimsuit on and kept saying “Poooooooool.” Melody handed an incredibly yummy looking plate of cupcakes. Monet looked at them, clapped, and said “Ah-bee.” (Happy) I was mighty Ah-bee, too.

I was thrilled to see Angie arrive, more than nine months pregnant. I gave her a brief tour of the house and she told me my new paint was sexy, but needed two more coats. The walls were thirsty, she explained, and then she offered to paint them the next day. I suggested she rest. She protested vehemently and I laughed and told her I like her spunky.

Birdwoman came with her mother. The hubs and kiddo had to stay home. Her mother dumped out the pot of Dunkin Donuts coffee that my husband had brewing and started a pot of Maxwell house. “Ah coffee,” she sighed as she watched it brew. I congratulated Birdwoman on her impressive mastery of United States civics knowledge, and she gave me a scathing review of “The Jane Austen Book Club” novel. I let her know that her review was VERY helpful indeed.

Blog Boy came up behind us and gave us a review of the most recent video game covention. He hopes that it will be an annual event. He was such a good kid, I couldn’t help hoping so too. I looked for his mom, but couldn’t find her.

Catherine Newman came in without Michael, Ben and Birdy. She was concerned that they might start barfing and left them at home. Someone at Ben’s school was sick last week. I laughed and gave this beautiful woman a heartfelt kiss on the cheek. So similar, and yet so different are we. I showed her the For Sale sign next door to me. (Hint, hint) She didn’t take the bait.

Carol was exhausted after hosting a reception for the blog olympics. She came wearing four silver medals and leading her Friends of the Friendless Marching band, each carrying a different finger food and marching in perfect unison. I told her how much I enjoy reading her journal entries from high school. Then I asked her to give me her best Lucille Ball impression. She’s good, I tell you.

CCAP arrived with baby Abby and CCAP’s Boy. Abby’s laugh had as all enraptured. We were too smitten to notice the fact that she was spitting up all over the place. Charlie, my dog, was licking it all up. “Get out of there, Charlie!” I hollered. Then I looked up and saw the room staring at me. “She gained 15 pounds licking up Hannah’s spit-up when she was a baby.” I explained, defensively. They all turned pale.

I was so happy to see Cori come in with her three kids and a magnificent chocolate and rasberry torte. Unfortunately she was tired after a rough night of sleep. We compared our neorotic sleep routines, talked about the U.K., and then Cori stunned me by squeezing her entire body through a beak. That got a lot of attention.

Couch Potato called from India to tell me he couldn’t make it because he had an exam the next day. I think I’ll be back from my blog vacation soon, he told me. He had been blog craving. Great! I exclaimed. Good luck tomorrow.

I looked across the room and saw Pia setting up a bake sale for Body Armor, a national effort to collect money to buy body armor for our troops. I bought some chocolate chip cookies as we chatted about our favorite places in Manhattan.

How wonderful it was to see Stephanie, Jason, and little Sydney again. Sydney looked absolutely beautiful in her new pink glasses. Steph and I talked about the class she is teaching this spring. She’s a natural at teaching, I tell you. We discussed dream houses.

Tamara and I oohed and ahhed over the photos of her new yoga room. Do you think you can really keep Baby Girl out? I asked with a hint of envy. As we were talking she sat down, crossed her legs and then sneezed. As I said “Bless you” she looked down and noticed that her panties were caught in her zipper. It was a most inopportune moment, but we laughed it off.

Dahlia walked up as we were giggling and wished us both a “Happy New Day.” I thanked her and told her, yes indeed, a woman’s OB/GYN is often not there to deliver a baby. The first time I gave birth I ended up with a 65-year old cowboy type. Quick, stern, and to the point. He did the job. And he praised me. “You did one helluva job.” he told me the next day, holding out his hand to me for a firm handshake. The next time I gave birth, I had my OB. He was not as good, it turned out. A bit rough.

Dave came in next, looking dapper and about 25 years old. We took Dave’s advice and all took a moment of silence to focus on being unhappy. This created the disharmony that we needed to make it a truly happy party. Thanks, Dave! I wanted to tell him it was “positively yogic” but I wasn’t sure if it really was, so I had to consult with Bonnie.

Then we all heard a patter on the rooftop. The door swung open and Vegemite, coming all the way from Australia, exclaimed “I’m still Heeeeeeeeeeeere!” We all cheered and blew kisses. She wished us all a Happy New Year and then whisked herself back to a Australia. Another moment of unhappiness hit the room.

This unhappiness, made me think of Meredith. She couldn’t make it to our party. I missed her so.

But just when all was looking grim, Genuine flew in through the open window, dressed in superhero gear. “The Bobs are over!” he shouted. “The year is starting for me. I am thrilled to announce a new product I developed. It will make your kids disappear for three days and bring them back in perfect spirits and health.” There was a murmor in the room. The women purred. No one wanted to buy this product in the open, but I witnessed quite a few parents whispering to Genuine in the corner.

Dear, sweet Holly, with the heart of gold, arrived next. She brought delicious looking tacos. “I thought they make your head break!” I exclaimed to Bug. “Not anymore,” he proudly announced. “They’re my favorite.”

Next Zee came riding a sexy black motorcycle, her long, thick hair blowing in the wind. She had a great new hairdo and looked very buff. She handed me a drawing. It was beautiful and I was glad to know she was feeling creative again.

Interstellar Lass ran in wearing running gear. Nick and Elle followed, carrying Turkey tacos and all the fixings. “I’m so glad you didn’t run away.” I whispered to Elle. What an inspiring family, I thought to myself.

The talented Leanne came in looking for a place to hang up a incredible painting of my dog, Charlie. We decided on a spot and then chatted as she cleared my cupboards of all junkfoods. I thought about asking her to move in with me.

There was momentary silence as James Andrew Lockhart recited Japanese poetry. I walked over, smiled, and introduced myself to him. He responded by reciting a poem.

She smiles..
the sun rises
to see.

I blushed and thought about inviting him to be the house poet. Upon consulting with my husband, I decided we didn’t need one.

Captain Jean Luc was the next to arrive. He was hungover from his Christmas party and hoping to dazzle a few of the ladies. I told him to take lessons from James Lockhart.

“I am free of the FLYLADY!” shouted Judy. Everybody cheered. She handed me queso and chips and I offered her a latte. While I got her latte ready, I noticed that she was cleaning my sink. I decided not to bring the matter up in discussion.

What a breath of fresh air it was to meet the effervescent homeschooling Julie and her photogenic kids. She makes me want to live out in the country. I gave her a big hug.

Kenju came with an amazing bouquet of flowers and marinated asparagus. Apparently, she arranges flowers professionally. I booked her for an event at a local museum. She screeched when she saw Charlie, my dog, diving in for some guacomole that had fallen on the floor. Guacomole can be fatal to dogs, Kenju told me. Not to mention the waistline, I added.

Average Mom arrived with family in tow. She was wonderfully friendly, but seemed concerned about a possible black-out. We moved closer to a lamp. Girl Terror hit it off famously with Rachel. They both poured over the World Atlas Rachel got from her grandma for Christmas. Geography buffs. I loved talking with Tammy. She made me laugh.

The wonderful Kimbofo arrived from England on her bicycle. Technically, she was right on time, but she kept apologizing for being late. She said the Grenediar Guards had held her up. Apparently, she didn’t have her camera for proof. Uh-huh. I smiled and apologized for not finishing a single book in her book club. I blamed it on the guards.

Wonderfully reflective Kismet wandered towards us with four year old Amy who was holding a pink tackle box. “No river to fish in here.” I explaIned to Amy. Rachel and Girl Terror took Amy’s hand and they all ran off together.

By this time, I had to pee really badly. I excused myself and made my way to the bathroom where I found Knitting Cat scrubbing away with Method cleaning detergent. It smelled lovely in there. Like Lavender. I gave her a hug and told her to go help herself to some Chai tea instead.

When I was finished in the bathroom, I saw Ladybug Crossing and snuck up behind her. She was telling the story of giving birth to Little Ladybug. How would you have felt to have had your minister accidently show up during your labor and then be trapped there with you until your husband showed up? We were practically on the floor laughing. As we were giggling away she saw her UPS man drive by the window. She ran and shouted to him to leave the package with her. He told her it was too heavy.

Boy was I glad to see Lassa, whose blog is up and running again. She came with her four gorgeous children. Her two teenagers added new excitement to the playroom babysitting situation. Janey joined the four year old girls, while Codey hung out with mom hoping to find a baseball buddy.

The incredible Last Girl on Earth showed up with a huge rubberband blogger ball. “What? No REAL band?” I called over my shoulder as I ran to find some more rubber bands. “Who needs a band when you’ve got bloggers!” she called back to me. By the time I returned she had everyone singing made-up verses to “Too much Fun” as they tossed the blogger ball around. Leave it to Last Girl to get the party rolling.

To be continued tomorrow.

(It’s not too late for you to get on my blogroll. Let me know if you’re not on there. I’ve got about two-thirds of my blogroll to get through yet. There’s still time to add you.)