I’m walking the boys home the other day and noticing the trees. All the oranges and reds and yellows. It’s your basic God’s glory kind of material. The usual off-the-hook stuff that He specializes in.

And I’m all:



Prancing home in the leaves, like a happy little Leonardo.

Also, since Halloween is on Monday, we are having one of those “Dress Crazy Every Day Because This Will Help Us Not Do Drugs” weeks at school. Because Halloween is scary, and so are drugs. And dressing up is fun!

Ok, I am not, my friends, providing any snark about this. Ok, maybe just a little, but it’s from MY end, not the kids’. The kids are cute and adorable and yes, we need to tell them about drugs. But, just a note: Sometimes, when I am trying to find the ONE Captain America glove that has curled up in a little ball and is hibernating VERY SUCCESSFULLY in our house, at 6:46 am, and yes, I know, it’s Superhero Day and if a Superhero doesn’t wear his gloves then he’s Captain Loser and the world has lost all meaning… Sometimes? It’s at times like these that I, just for a teensy tiny minute, think something like this:

“I might really like to have some of those drugs right now.”

Irony, eh? It’s here to keep hitting us upside the head every once in a while. Helps us feel alive.

And I know. I’m awful. I promise I won’t take up drugs just because we didn’t get organized enough to find all the Captain America accessories (of which there are more than BARBIE has, for the Love of Thor). That would just be silly. Hugs, not drugs.

ANYHOW. Back to Fall, where we take the Obligatory Pictures of Children in Costumes (these are of Superhero #2, also known as Flash, which is SO not really in his personality profile, but for the time that he did wear the costume, he did actually TRY a few times to be quick while moving at the same time. He ran into a wall. It was endearing.)

I like to call this series:

The Dog Gets Increasingly Embarrassed


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Oh, and there was Crazy Hair Day. Also known as: Spray a lot of Glitter on my Children Day and Hope They Don’t Get Close to An Open Flame.

I took this picture of a rather grumpy Red:


And I realized something….

He kinda looked like:


Which, as you KNOW… is part of the cast for this classic:



So, I am reminded, logically….



Thank you for staying with me through my thought process on this post, which was brought to you by:

  1. Allergy medication
  2. NO other drugs
  3. Possibly a little glitter


Merry Christmas Music Eve!!

I’m coming for you, Joshie!





Monday Manuscript. And dinosaurs.

I have every good intention there ever was to be a quality mother.  All those intentions are neatly alphabetized and filed away (some cross-referenced and highly foot-noted, extremely organized) ready for use at a moment’s notice.

So yesterday, I decided to use this one:

Good Intention #456:  My childhood nostalgia shall be THEIR nostalgia too.

You know why.  You share something from your childhood (like Pixie Stix, or putting playing cards in bike spokes, or velour track suits) and this sharing creates bonding and talk about When Mommy was Little, which creates awe.  Plus, my sons know how to rock velour now. Always a plus.

Yep, Good Intention #456 is a winner.

For the most part.

So yesterday I had this brilliant idea:

Land of the Lost tv show 1970's

I loved this show.  Absolutely loved it.  I loved Holly’s blonde pigtails and toothy smile. I loved the dad’s stalwart spirit, even though somehow he had landed his family in a weird claymation dinosaur fun park with mutant lizard things, probably forever.   Oh, and I loooooooved Will.  Will and his cute shorts and open shirt.  Will had angst.  He was ticked, people.  He had been removed from the awesome 70’s and put in this weird fun park with Sleestaks and Chaka, the most annoying ape teen ever, and thus he had attitude.  He was the David Cassidy of the show, and I just adored him.

And perhaps all that adoration (except for Chaka because really?  If you can get past the major overbite and eyebrow issues, he had a rather unpleasantly needy personality) helped me have a momentary lapse and I decided to share the love with my boys.  (And, thank you, You Tube.)

I so thought this was a good idea.  Look boys, 70’s kitsch!   Awful special effects!  Holes in the plot line!  All here!

The wee ones did not love Chaka or the pigtails, or one little BIT of the Sleestaks (I know, I could have seen that coming a mile off) and especially, oh heck NO they did NOT like the angry claymation attempt at a Tyrannosaurus Rex that for some reason I had remembered as goofy and somewhat smooshed to one side looking, but my boys pretty much equated with Satan is IN THE TELEVISION IN THE FORM OF THAT DINOSAUR MAKE IS STOP MOMMYYYYYYY.

And so that bonding moment was a bit lost (GET IT?  SEE WHAT I DID THERE??  Yes, I’m making puns at the expense of my toddlers’ trauma, but I have no choice.  I deal with guilt through twisted humor, people.  This is healing.)

So after I flung myself at the tv to get the lopsided T-rex OFF of there, and spent the next twenty or so minutes talking both my toddlers’ down off the Paleozoic ledge of hysteria because their mommy had flung SLEESTAKS at them, I decided to share with you my favorite dinosaur (toddler tested and approved) books that we have been reading that WON’T traumatize and keep ALL good intentions still intact.

1.  The classic option (minus Sleestaks):


2.  The soothing and hugely comforting, go to sleep and dream about whatever you like, even dinosaurs, because you can always draw yourself back to your bed option:9780060005412

3.  The flop down on the living room floor and carefully study over and over and over option:51jW6nbDJ4L

4.  The book that Mommy likes a lot because, wow, the pictures:


5.  Oh, and this option because it tells us how to eat with manners (dinosaurs lack them at dinner, it seems. Sometimes toddlers do too.):


So.  We’re all set.  We have our books.  The You Tubes has been banished (for a while, at least) and I have learned my lesson.  Really.  I have.  No more weird, nostalgic TV shows for my boys.  HR Pufnstuf?  Anyone?

When I was 8? This show was awesome.  Now?  This show is really really really bad.  Avoid it, ya'll.

Don’t even get me started on this gem.


I know better.

So, here’s tonight’s book selection:


heh heh.