Me and Mr. Jones

We got a thing goin on.

Well, sometimes we do. And sometimes we, um, don't.

I certainly can't speak for any other men, but I've had a small epiphany about mine. He has a weekly cycle. A circadian rhythm of sorts that starts over about every seven days. It's like this: Monday, mama's not gettin any love; but by the time Saturday rolls around, I can hardly move without stirring a certain kind of excitement.
Other people have noticed something similar and have written songs about it. There's "Manic Monday," "Rainy Days and Mondays," "Monday, Monday" (ba-dah, ba-da-da-dah), but perhaps most appropriate is "It's Friday (I'm in Love)." In Office Space there was that whole "looks like someone's got a serious case of the Mondays" thing. It's all the same blues, it's just that in my house, it manifests itself in lascivious behavior (or the lack thereof).
I can't tell you how glad I am to have unlocked this mystery. It used to cause friction (hee hee) of another kind in our relationship. Now I know it has very little to do with me, and now I have a perfect revenge for those PMS comments. This, of course, is why I'm sharing my new findings, as it could be a weapon in any woman's arsenal.
It could be that we're getting older. Lord knows, it used to not matter at all what day it was. I can take heart though, that even though he's knockin on 30's door, he's still going to be 19 every Friday.

you're a big girl now.

Today was Mazzy's first day of preschool.

I rolled her out of bed, got her dressed, brushed her teeth, and (here's the best part) dropped her off.

The nursery school she goes to is a 3-year old's paradise, full of play-dough and little furniture and blocks and books and costumes. She gave her teachers their apples (why don't kids do this anymore?), and after a quick kiss and hug for me & Eden, it was "bye, mom!"

I walked outside and fought the urge to go back in to kiss her again and make sure she was OK, then I realized I was about to start crying and ran to my car so no one would see me fall apart. I must have checked the clock every three minutes to make sure I wasn't going to be late to pick her up.

It's only three hours three days a week. I'm sure eventually I'll figure out what to do with myself.

9 o'clock and all's well

Shower Time!

tearjerker

Mazzy, at 3, has seen many a movie in her day. So many, in fact, that a large part of her everyday dialogue is the recitation/dramatic performance of scenes from her favorites. It's sometimes hard to tell whether she's talking to you or performing for you. She's also got a few go-to scenes she uses in particular scenarios. A common example:
Maz: "Mom, I'm hungry."
Me: "Can I make you a snack?"
Maz: "I really am hungry, mother."
Me: "What would you like?"
Maz: "I'm so hungry, I could eat a whole elephant."
So, it turns out, she's doing "Rolly" from 101 Dalmatians. She really is hungry, is the thing, but she has to say it with dramatic flair. Another one we hear a lot comes when we're calling the dog back to the house.
Me: "Stella! (whistle, pause) Stella!"
Maz: (busting through the door) "What do you think you're doing out there?... I'm going to have to get you before another fish does...Get back here!...I said, get back here NOW!... STOP!...You take one more move, mister (Stella runs into the yard)...NEMO!...(Mazzy follows her into the house) You're in big trouble, young man."
And there we have the memorable boat scene from Finding Nemo.
My personal favorite, though, because of the timing of its execution, has to be the Cinderella scene she does when she gets sent to her room. If it's been a while since you've seen the movie, there's a part where the Evil Stepmother realizes that Cinderella really did dance with the Prince and she follows her up to her room in the tower (?) and locks her in and slinks away with the key like only the cruelest of villains can do.
So, in this one, I assume the role of heartless villain, naturally.
Me: (closing door to Mazzy's room) "You can come out when you're ready to be nice."
Maz: "Let me out!... Oh, please let me out. (dramatic sobbing and banging on the door) You can't keep me in here!...Oh-ho-ho pleeeaase!"
Don't get me wrong, I don't delight in her anguish, but I usually find myself laughing at this point because I'm amazed at her dedication to the craft.
Anyway, of all these films she's watched, none have ever brought her to tears. This is not because we shield her from the sad ones. She likes those the best, actually. She went through a big Old Yeller phase, and Charlotte's Web, Bambi, Finding Nemo. Early on, I would be waiting in the wings when Bambi's mom gets shot, ready to console Mazzy. No crying, though. Not once. Until yesterday.
We have a winner, folks. Mazzy finally crumbled watching My Dog Skip. Will's mom gives him a puppy for his ninth birthday and his dad takes the puppy away and says "Maybe next year." I was actually excited when Maz turned around to me with those teary cheeks and big eyes with the grief-stricken puzzled look.
It was a big step for her. And now she has some new material to work with.