Hedgehogs & Foxes

The overtired 3.75 yr. old is unexpectedly napping! At the same time as little bro, 22 months old this week! I am so shocked by this turn of events that I don't know what to do with myself. I'd planned...uh, nothing. Low expectations. (And then crazy high expectations for the two days a week they're in daycare during the summer. 'Tis my way.) This morning we went to Target and the library. The boys are doing a summer reading program where they get points for books, then prizes for points, as the 3.75 yr. old explained to the charmed Target cashier. He told her he was going to read a book and get a hedgehog. As you do.

Turned out the hedgehog he's had his eye on was really a lip gloss in disguise. Another mother pointed that out -- one of her girls was getting the hedgehog lip gloss. My kid still wanted it. I like to think that I will be OK if my boys want to wear lip gloss, but for one, they're too young for makeup, and two, I think they should wait until they're past the temptation to eat it. For me, that was age thirteen. I mean are you aware of Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers products? Delicious. The boys also are big on smearing messy things across non-messy surfaces, and as we prep to put our house on the market, this is pretty super and very helpful. Part of the Target errand was for those magic eraser things that take stains off the walls. Anyway, kiddo opted for a squishy globe instead. He helped little bro pick out a squirty fish for the bathtub.  

Everyone's still catching up from our 2000-mile road trip. My cousin and his lovely bride were married at Plimoth Plantation in Plymouth, MA. We stayed in a neat house on a cliff and climbed some rocks at the beach. I sat in the yard and re-read Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple and at one point looked up and found myself staring at a gray fox. This was shortly after reading Bernadette's last name, which is Fox. The gray fox stared back and then we both gasped and ran in opposite directions, which means neither of us is likely to have rabies. Good thing, considering my dog bite in March.

And now the little one's up. As mentioned previously, he doesn't really wake easily. He howls. I mean screams. I mean really gets his point across loudly and his point is displeasure at remaining in his crib for a second longer than he'd like. Wait. Is quiet again. Maybe I can go out on the porch and read more Lydia Davis? Maybe? Please? (Said rudely while signing "please", a slap across the chest, toddler-style, which takes something away from the politeness element?) 

Would've mentioned Lydia Davis as a favorite writer in my earlier WordLab interview, had I been deeper into her collected stories at the time. Good gravy. Why haven't I been reading her all along? WHY DIDN'T YOU PEOPLE TELL ME? Had a really great time at WordLab, too, recapped here, thanks to Metonymy Media and Theresa Beckhusen. Next up is the fantastic David Blomenberg, on July 7 at 7 p.m. 7/7 at 7.

Now trending: the number seven. And foxes. Which, by the by, is my favorite superlative for an attractive person. The band Fleet Foxes ain't bad, either, and could be a compliment for an attractive and gracefully quick person. Go out on your porch -- ours is newly painted! buy our house! -- and read some Lydia Davis. Or something else. Reader's choice. 

WordLab & Interview

Did a ton of gardening and house stuff this weekend, plus child-rearing, plus had a little party, and am about to keel over into my saltines. (I like 'em. Sue me.) Went for a run today and at one point had to sit on a bench and just be sad. I wasn't really all that sad, just tired. But it is easy to confuse the two. Also, due to kid timing and husband timing, said run happened in the midday sun and I hadn't eaten lunch. So I was especially cranky at all the fashionable, hungover people having brunch in my neighborhood while I trudged sweatily by. "It's take your ankle tattoo to brunch day," I thought, which is rude. I have nothing against ankle tattoos, or brunch. Tattoos are not for me, but brunch? Sure, I'll have some brunch. The sidewalk cafe patrons wear sunglasses because they are hungover, and their meals are reflected in the lenses. They'd share if I asked nicely and kept my trap shut about their ankle tattoos. On the trail, a guy running with his dog started running backwards as he approached me. What the what? And while I'm parsing all this out in my brain, a child riding a bike with training wheels passed me. She was pretty fast. But still.

Must rest up for tomorrow's WordLab at Indy Reads Books, 7 p.m. I'll be concocting a wordy experiment in this fantastic book store. There will be no sad bench sitting, no brunch, no jogging backwards at the sight of a woman about to be passed by a girl on a bike with training wheels. Just a short reading, some Q&A, and then we'll write and talk some more. Fun.

Theresa Beckhusen was nice enough to interview me about reading, writing, & more in advance of the event. I thoroughly enjoyed her questions, which included Trip Through Your Wires, la novela. The novel, in Spanish. It is in English with a smattering of Spanish thrown in. Ahem: carefully placed throughout.

Ya me voy a dormir. Besos a todos, mas o menos.