All day my eyes have been bothering me. Blurry. Warp-y. Crooked… I took my contacts out and cleaned them, and still, I was whonk-eyed. Taking Jeffrey to school, the signs were blurry, but since my lenses were new, and I had also just cleaned them, I jumped to the only logical conclusion: Brain tumor.

When I got home from my crooked, dizzy errands, I swaped my lenses for my glasses, and things seemed much clearer. Whew. No brain tumor after all.

Turns out I had my lenses in the wrong eye. 

So what’s been going on with you?

My memory seems to have gone the way of the snow, and I doubt I even have any readers anymore- and I can’t even remember what I’ve done with all the time I took away from writing. I think knitting was in there somewhere, and I know I made a quilt, but it’s not completely done yet. I played a lot with my kids, which is a trend I think I’ll continue- even though I’ve never been much of a “floor mom”- not that I don’t like sitting on the floor or anything, I’m just not a micro-manager.

We had some family birthdays, (which I lagged on big time), a parent-teacher conference and trip to Target or two- yes, it was as bad as you’re thinking. Do you know how awesome the public library is? I know that, but it always seems I forget, then I go on a library bender, and remember how much I love it. Anyway…

Go read “The Healthiest Kid in the Neighborhood” by the infamous and spectacular Dr. Sears, right now! It will change the way you feed your babies forever. We are now officially and completely off junk-food of any kind, and the bambinos have been surprisingly receptive. They even tried such strange and exotic fare as salmon and asparagus, once I explained about food dye and strong muscles and how our hearts work. Not trying to terrify them or anything, but it’s totally working.

Beanies favorite thing now is grinding his own peanut butter- it makes him really happy.

I discovered a super fun recipe for making your own pita bread, and the kids LOVE the science of the bread puffing up and, well, kneading dough is always a favorite pass-time in our hovel.

Speaking of hovels, did I mention our house goes on the market in less than three weeks? Ok, it’s far from a hovel. Actually it’s a fine, wonderful, homey, updated, newly carpeted cedar-sided ranch with five beds and recently remodeled kitchen and bath … are you interested? Yeah? Yeah? So packing I a-go. And packing. And packing. Maybe a little panicking in there, too, eh?

I can’t talk about the new house yet, because I don’t want to touch the bubble and pop it. You understand. When the deal is done, then I’ll dish. But I’ll just say one thing: Porch. Uh huh. That’s right.

So, I’ll be around again. Moving and getting the house ready to show and be on the market is my new all-consuming pet-project. Keeping the house clean and ready to show at a moments notice for the next month ought to be a barrel of fun. Or maybe just a barrel of Monkeys… wish us luck! 

How much do you think it would cost, and whose palms would I have to grease, to get a direct line of Nitrous Oxide run into my house? I want it to just come out the central heating vents, in such a concentration that we are all just a little lighter, just a little giddier, just a little easier. Really. How much, and who would do it?

Jeffrey went to the dentist today for his first cavity.

What had the potential to be a nightmare, ended up being a sweet, giggly, happy, painless experience with no side effects. It took a while to convince him to put the mask on, but the “creamsicle” scent the nurse promised helped, as did the fact he chose “glitter” for his filling color. Yes, they have a rainbow of resin colors to choose from, and who wants plain old white teeth, when you can have “raspberry” or “ocean” or in my son’s case, “glitter”?

It took 20 minutes to convince him to put the mask on, and while I wanted to wrestle him down, the dentist, smart, patient, grandfatherly man he is, suggested that might not be so wise.  20 minutes of cajoling. 30 seconds of gas until my dour, nervous, strong-willed boy turned into malleable, giggling, silly, happy, relaxed beam of sunlight.

He relaxed in the chair, he smiled at everyone, he giggled and told me he was floating, he chatted with the nurse and giggled some more. He opened wide, and let the dentist drill and fill his teeth, never so much as batting an eye or flinching a finger. No Novocaine, no shot, nothing but happy, laughing gas.

And now he has a “glitter” filling to go with the giant alarm clock he wears on a rope around his neck… oh, wait, that’s someone else. The glitter goes well with his freckles and wild red hair, I must admit.

SO where do I get a mainline of this n.o. to my house?

Michelle at Scribbit has had the most fabulous idea- she has, in cooperation with Google, created a search engine of JUST mommy blogs. What that means is, if you want to look up some mothering topic, type it in just like regular google, but it will only search about 1500 mommy blogs. Check it out- it has the potential to be a wonderfully useful resource. Yay Michelle!

In other, equally fabulous news, Bek is guest blogging at Design Mom– if you’ve never hit Design Mom, do so right now! She has the best ideas, updated daily!

I seem to have stumbled upon the key to my children’s eternal happiness, merriment and joy- Frank Sinatra.

Seriously. Frank Sinatra’s Greatest Hits is like a big ol’ bowl full of instant joy. The kids ask me to put on the “happy dancing music” and the gleefully and with abandon dance around the house, giggling, twirling and overflowing with silver joy bubbles.

This does not happen with Rafi. This does not happen with Laurie Berkner. This does not even happen with The Grateful Dead, the happiest music I know. This is a phenomena unique to the Crooner himself.

Give it a try- if we’re having a cross afternoon, if there are more cases of grumpiness than I can chase down, I put on old Blue Eyes, and the entire mood of the house changes. It’s spectacular.