He's like a hamster, or perhaps a goat.

Things Nate has put into his mouth:
tissues, napkins, and paper of all sorts
dried leaves, twigs, and bark
vinyl shower curtain
moss (Piscataway, NJ)
sand (Lake George, NY)
grass (Prospect Park, Brooklyn)
the coffee table
shreds of carpet
the actual carpet, plus the carpet pad
cat fur
sofa stuffing (freed by cat scratchings)
DVDs (cases, booklets, AND discs)
remote controls
markers, pens, pencils
various data and audio cables
tubes of shaving gel, toothpaste, and diaper cream
Tallulah's peanut-buttered toast (argh!)

In non-list-format news, today is the last day of NaBloPoMo. Woo-hoo! See you in 11 months, suckas! (note: just kidding. I will try to post more frequently.)

That explains it.

(I pretend to talk into Tallulah's foot like it's a phone.)
T: Mommy, don't talk into my foot.
Me: OK.
T: I want to lie down and have you talk into my butt like it's a microphone.
Me: WHAT? No. I'm not doing that.
T: Yes, Mommy, it's funny! I want you to talk into my butt like it's a microphone. Like a veterinarian talked into that dog's butt. It was really funny.
Me: Where did you see that?
T: A veterinarian is a doctor for animals.
Me: Yes, I know. Where did you see a veterinarian talking into a dog's butt like it was a microphone?
T: It was a movie. On Cute Overload.

NYC public schools.

I attended a forum tonight on the different public Kindergartens and pre-Ks in my part of Brooklyn, and how to get into same. Basically it's a confusing shitstorm of bureaucracy* wherein you have too many parents trying to get their children into too few good schools. And the Department of Education is undergoing yet another epic reorganization, so the rules about where/how/why your kid can go to a school are expected to change within the next year. It's like a fun thing for politicians to boast how they "shook up" the DOE but all that really happens is that millions of dollars get spent on seemingly random restructuring plans and bizarre, meaningless school assessments.

There's not much of a point to this post, except to say that I'll probably end up paying two preschool tuitions next year; but after that, Tallulah will automatically be enrolled in our blessedly good local school. Also, I got to talk with several parents I know from Tallulah's current and former preschools. It was nice to talk to them and get a sense of solidarity about this whole thing. I'm certainly not alone in feeling overwhelmed and disheartened and a bit desperate.

* The boring, overly-long explanation: the school in the district where you live has to take your child for Kindergarten, but there's also various magnet, charter, and lottery schools that you can try to get your child into instead. All of those "special" schools have their own rules about who can apply and how. And if you don't like the school you're districted for, you can apply for a variance to attend a different one, if that different school accepts students from out-of-district, because not all do. And none of this actually applies to pre-K, since children aren't guaranteed a pre-K spot; so every school, even the one you're districted for, uses a lottery for Pre-K admission. And your odds? NOT GOOD. The most popular lottery-based schools usually have 3 or 4 pre-K spots open (due to sibling preference for existing students) for literally hundreds of applicants every year.

Crafty procrastination

I forgot the most recent creativity booster I've tried: NaBloPoMo! Which has worked, at least for this month. I hope the effects will last past the end of November.

But although NaBloPoMo has worked for my blog posting, the effects have yet to trickle down into the rest of my creative endeavors.

Craft projects I have planned out, bought materials for, or even started, but am nowhere near finishing:
* a scarf I started knitting about four years ago. Have since forgotten how to knit.
* a bedside hanging pocket-ful thing to hold my glasses, tissues, and lip balm (there's no room for a table on my side of the bed)
* a Cornell-esque collage/shrine about my grandmother who died several months ago
* a Christmas stocking for Nate (the hold-up on this one: I need to see Lula's, which I also made, in order to get the size right; and Lula's stocking is packed away somewhere deep in a storage space in NJ)
* various buttons to replace and stuffed toys to mend (ongoing)
* a stuffed cat pillow I made from a vintage pattern is almost completely done; have to finish the opening and add some snaps. This 30-minute long piece of work has been idling for a couple of years now.

And of course every year I consider designing and printing up my own holiday cards, but since I have never managed to send the kind that someone else has made for me, I always abandon the idea before I get too far with it.

Creativity boosters I have tried.

College: This one worked well. The pressure of a $100,000* tuition/board kept me producing art, if only to keep passing my classes. Problem: I eventually exceeded the 4-year time limit.
The Artist's Way: Fell asleep every single time I tried to write the "morning pages" that the author claims as her most important creativity builder. My desire to be a more active artist is nothing in the face of a resolutely night-owlish nature. Shelved book after less than a week.
My sister: Post-college aimlessness and a desire for structure and accountability led me to suggest that my sister (also a visual artist) and I trade weekly art assignments. She didn't go for it.
Illustration Fridays: Signed up to get email notification of each week's topic. Two years later, I have yet to illustrate a single one. Justification? Some of the illustrators are really bad.
The Creative License: Intro gave me hope. Spent a couple of hours doing the recommended first set of drawings (of a chair, a table, a cup, and a person) only to turn the page and see simple line drawings as examples, including the most basic drawing tips imaginable. Book seems to be for real beginners. I will go back to this one, though, once I can adjust my expectations.
Procreating: This one worked a couple of times, though not without months and months of discomfort and serious physical effort. The end results, though more beautiful and unpredictable than anticipated, have not been without their challenges. Further problem: hard to take full credit as their creator.

* compared to current prices, of course, this is a steal.

Why is there no chocolate in the house?

Where is the chocolate? My British candy supply has been completely obliterated, and Tallulah's Halloween stash is down to no-name-brand hard candies (ie. "the shake.") Even my ice cream treat-pint is a pear-flavored "limited edition" Haagen-Dazs pint with no chocolate involved whatsoever.

Wait. Scott bought more Newman-Os! Saved.

Secretly gaining mad skillz

You know the theory that babies and young children start acting all difficult and cranky right before a developmental leap? They'll stop sleeping through the night, or will throw extra-big tantrums, and then the next day they can suddenly hop on one foot or something. It's like the kid's brain is working so hard on that one new thing that the rest of the brain goes all limp and flabby.

Anyway. Over the past few days, Tallulah, who is almost four, exhibited some serious regression in various areas. Besides the barfing (which isn't really "regression" and which I think was caused by a bad coughing fit and an unhealthy fries-ketchup-milk dinner), she has been sleeping poorly, with lots of tearful night wakings; and she even wet the bed, something she has only done once before in her entire life. But the day after the bed-wetting (yesterday, that is) she WROTE HER NAME for the first time. She had only ever written single letters before. I was truly amazed. She even allowed us to be proud of her!

So when exactly does a person age out of the whole behavior regression --> developmental leap phenomenon? I sort of thought it ended sometime around age three, but perhaps Tallulah's past few tumultuous days proves me wrong. So what if you NEVER age out of it? It would be great if that time* I was feeling all cranky and out-of-sorts meant that the non-bitchy part of my brain was busy finally understanding string theory. Or what if that time I couldn't fall asleep a couple of weeks ago was because I was gaining the gross motor skills necessary to pole vault? I just need to keep trying out new things right after I sleep poorly or have a bathroom accident (the WORST! Am I right, ladies?) to see if my theory is correct.

* - and by "that time" I mean "almost all the time"