Likely to Be Fully Dressed Getting out of Limos

Last night Lu pooped in her pants at Central Market. And of course, we’re at that overconfident stage of potty-training where we have no back-up anything, so after weighing the risks of strapping an unsealed cloth bag of crap (her shorts, attached to her body) into my car, I decided to go into the bathroom and deal with it.

That decision, aside from being a horror scene (oh, patrons of the Central Market ladies’ room at 7:10 last night, you saintly women), led to a really interesting discussion:

“Mom, do you have more panties for me?”
“No, babe, but it’s O—.”
“Do you have a pull-up for me?”
“No, but we’re going to put your shorts back on and go ho—”
“NOOOO, I need panties!!”

It doesn't feel good to convince your three-year-old that it is, in certain situations, okay...to go without panties. But our other option — that she argued strenuously for — was marching her bare-assed through Central Market.

I won. As we left, she grabbed the crotch of her shorts and complained, “Mom, my shorts are touching my butt.”

Must wear panties! I may not be the best mother in the world, but I am at least better than Lynne Spears and Kathy Hilton.

Being There

Yesterday, Lucy and I lay on the grass under one of the oak trees in the front yard. It looked like it would rain, but Lu thought we’d be safe under the tree. We tried counting the leaves, but decided there were too many. We saw a butterfly and some birds. Lu found a really good stick. A black and red flying bug landed on me that Lu thought was a ladybug, then said, “Actually, it’s not.” The bug bit me, but I didn’t tell Lu.

We moved to the other oak tree, but there were ants, so we went back to the first one and played “Simon Says,” a game Lu doesn’t fully understand. At some point, Simon said “Snuggle up!” and she wiggled her body close to mine, with her cheek on the skin of my arm. We were quiet together for about three perfect seconds.

Underachievement: Part One in a Series

I am watching "Charlie Rose," the best show on television (that I sometimes delete from my Tivo to make room for "Sex and the City" reruns). He is talking with Harold Ford Jr., the former House candidate from Tennessee. The darling, bright man that I once referred to at a party as "Tennesee's Great Cafe au Lait Hope" — my well-intentioned, liberal misstep made an almost audible splat.

Anyway. Charlie and Hal (which is what I call him when I am thinking about him in the nighttime) are having this very serious, interesting exchange about the politics of race: What does the Imus statement mean about race relations in 2007? Is Imus a bad guy? And somewhere during this important conversation I hear that HAROLD FORD JUNIOR IS 36 YEARS OLD. First thought: had I been a cool enough freshman girl, Hal could have been my boyfriend. Second thought: I HAVE THREE YEARS TO BE ON CHARLIE ROSE.

It is very dismaying to be reminded, over and over again, that the people who are running the place are...us. At least, those of us who are getting more done than I am. This relates to Lu only inasmuchas she is really good cover for my lack of achievement (I've been too busy with potty training to mind race politics, okay?).

Lu, I lay the mantle of leadership on you. May you be the woman who is on the show before Hal or interviews Hal, but never needs to date Hal. Okay, date Hal if you want.

p.s. Small comfort: am now watching Tavis Smiley. He is a dingdong and I have no desire to be on his show. Lu, if you date someone like Tavis Smiley, I will openly shame you (and him) at dinner.

Gumshoe

L: Mom, what is this?

K: It's gum.

L: Why did you buy it?

K: Because it's delicious.

L: No, why did you buy it?

K: Because I like gum.

L: No, why, Mom?

K: Because it tastes like fruit in my mouth when I chew it.

L: But WHY?

K: Because, well...because they make it so it tastes like that.

L: BUT WHY DID YOU BUY IT?

K: Because I can.

L: Oh. When are you going to eat it?

K: After you go to sleep.

L: Oh.

Why is Tonight Different from All Other Nights?

Well, it could be those funny hats the boys are wearing. Or the crackers. Or the actual printed program you need to keep up with dinner. This Saturday, we attended our first Passover Seder, hosted by the Weitzes.

A seder is really two meals: 1) a symbolic meal of small dishes that represent Jewish history, along with prayers and stories and 2) a big old lavish Jewish feast of salty, fluffy matzoh ball soup and brisket that tasted as good as dessert (both prepared by Megan, a gifted shiksa chef), and a sweet noodle pudding that Lauren says is a side dish, but also tastes like dessert. I guess where there is no leavening, you have license to eat dessert as dinner. Oh, and then there was dessert. It was obscene (in a good way). Just writing about it makes me glad I am wearing elastic-waist pants.

Speaking of leavening, the highlight of Lu's evening was a seder gift from Andy and Megan: "Arnie the Doughnut."

It was a perfect time. We came, we ate, we drank, we learned. Some of us were not entirely crazy about matzah:

Photo credit goes to Lauren, who was named the Super Jew among us. For an Ashkenazic perspective, visit her blog and see more photos.

The Interview

Today we took Lu to the Children's School, the fancy new Montessori school where we had, um, assumed she was accepted for July. But today we brought her to the school, and some nice lady named Mrs. Geiger chatted with her briefly before leading her BY THE HAND AWAY FROM US. And SHE WENT. To the classroom, where she talked with the kids and did some Montessori work and spelled (and signed) her name and counted and...shared "a lot of information." Mrs. Geiger brought Lu back from the interview and told us she was impressed. As she recounted the events of the 15 minutes Lucy was out of our possession, she remarked again that Lu had "a lot of information to share."

I am only a little scared of the information she may have shared. I am assuming Mrs. Geiger meant that she was very verbal, that she just generally had a lot to say. Not that she shared specific "information," such as:
• I only take baths every other night.
• My mom says words I don't understand. Like "shit" and some other ones.
• I have not eaten any fruits or vegetables since Thursday.
• I just tooted. Can you smell it? Gross.

Anyway, I got a super good vibe from the teacher, the place, Lu. I just hope we weren't exposed.

Pedi Patrol

Although I know I should not be encouraging this, I am willing to bet even Gloria Steinem paints her toenails.

At the T3 Kentucky Derby party last Sunday, Lu came up to Jenn Currie and the first thing she said was "I like your toenail polish," completely overlooking Jenn's lovely hat and outfit (not to mention her intelligence and character). It's sandal season, people — Lu is paying attention.