closer

You told me I didn't need to stop by, but I did anyway.  I sat on your couch while you made dinner.  Can I help? I asked What can I do?  

In the kitchen,  the radio said, A little bit of Monica in my life, A little bit of Erica by my side. You were singing along, in a big goofy voice.

There was a ballgame on tv and your team was ahead in the first and ahead in the sixth, but you punched the off button on the remote before we could watch them blow yet another lead. 

They need a closer, you said. 
 
When you walked me to my car, you opened the door for me and then you shut it.  You tapped on the window and, when I rolled it down, you put your hand on top of mine.  You said goodbye.  You said take care.  You probably even said see you later. 

I put the car in gear.  The road was empty and, as far as I could see, every traffic light was green or turning to green.  I didn't cry until I got all the way home.

                                                *     *     *
                                                     
As you probably realize, goodbyes are not exactly my strong point.  So I'm not going to say it and you don't need to say it either.

You know where to find me. 

Or, to put it another way, exit, pursued by a bear.

focus

And the lucky, lucky winners (chosen totally randomly) thanks to random.org  are:

Erica (chocolate)

MFA Mama (coffee)

Email me at like.niobe.all.tears at gmail dot com with an address that I can send your loot to.

And, because we spent way too much time at the playground this weekend, here's yet another shot of Cole.  And, yes, he does carry that little car just about everywhere. 

long weekend

fourth of july

hit and run

Although it's technically the first Friday of the month, given the long weekend here in the US (and, I suppose, in Canada as well), I'm going to postpone our regularly-scheduled snark-fest 'til next Friday.  Try to bate your breath until then.  Or, depending on your view of this sort of thing, you have been warned. 

In other news, there's still time to enter the fun and educational giveaway.  Just add your comment to the previous post, specifying whether you'd prefer inhaleable chocolate or coffee.  A super-secret hint: since I'm doing the two drawings separately and since very, very few people have signed up for the coffee sweepstakes...well, you do the math.

And, finally, the lovely and talented Angie is featuring one of my photos today at Still Life 365, a very cool blog featuring creative works of various kinds focusing on the topic of loss.  Check it out -- and consider submitting a work (poem, photo, craft object, painting, whatever) of your own.

sweet as chocolate, light as air

Because I'm all generous and selfless and, most importantly, have finally managed to get my hands on the semi-new product that everyone seems to be talking about, I'm giving away (wait for it) Le Whif. 

What is Le Whif?  Well, the short version is that it's chocolate.  That you snort. 

Learn all the tasty, tasty details at lewhif.com.  But, basically, it was invented by some biomedical engineer at Harvard and is supposed to give you a calorie-free choco-high that's legal in all 50 states (and likely numerous foreign countries as well).  Plus there's a coffee version.  And, yes, I'm giving away one of those too.

How does this giveaway work?  Just follow (in order) the simple steps below:

1. Leave a comment to this post expressing your interest. It might read: Chocolate. Or perhaps Coffee. Or even: I just can't decide, so you choose for me, sweet, sweet Niobe.
2. Get chosen by the random number generator.
3. Receive Le Whif.
4. Inhale.

***comments closed ... stay tuned for winners***

Full disclosure: While I wish that Le Whif were subsidizing this post in some way, such is very much not the case.

truth in advertising

I'm not all that good at actually, um, purchasing stuff that I want -- even stuff I really, really want.

Though we got rid of our old tv back in August 2009, we got a new one only a few weeks ago. And when I say "we," what I mean is that I, personally, had nothing to do with it.

Similarly, I still haven't managed to come up with a persuasive rationalization to replace my wildly outdated cell phone or to get a new camera to replace the one I broke before Ruby was born.

Anyone have a way of convincing myself that it's absolutely necessary that I acquire a smart phone? As in (fill in the blank): Niobe needs to shell out a hefty monthly fee for an expensive new toy even though she seldom remembers to charge her current phone because ______.

On the camera front, I've been fairly happily making do with a teeny tiny Canon Ixus 100IS.

The other day, I was using the macro feature to take photos of various things on my desk (make up, plastic snakes, mini dinosaurs, toy cars), when I noticed something that most of us living in this all-too-unfair world could probably use. See close-up below.

In case you can't make out the label, it reads: FAIR: to use: apply as needed

As, you know, if.

straightening

Yesterday, Cole woke up (in his crib, because I'm still dithering on the tent concept) with pink, puffy eyes. Conjunctivitis, said the doctor. Which was no big deal, but meant no daycare.

I dropped Ruby off, managed to squeeze a little erythromycin between Cole's goop-encrusted lids and told Gray (who's home for a few days) that, since I was taking the day off, we could do whatever he wanted.

I think we can safely say that Gray is just about the only 18-year-old who would, unprompted, suggest that we reorganize the kitchen cabinets.

But he did and we did, moving boxes, jars and cans to the counter, tossing the stuff that had expired back in 1998, wiping down and repainting the shelves and putting everything back in a new, much more esthetically pleasing arrangement. Including, yes, alphabetized spices.

So you don't get the wrong idea, neither of us is particularly into cleaning and Gray's own room is usually almost as much of a wreck as my closet.

But the beautifully organized cabinets? They make me almost as happy as a clam at high tide. Which is about the best any of us can hope for.

eta: if you want to see far too many iterations of the photo above (plus a t.rex v. vw battle to the death!) check out my flickr photostream.

free range

This morning, I put Cole in his room, in his crib. I handed him his favorite musical pink seahorse, which (among other things) plays a charming, if somewhat aquatic-sounding, rendition of Ode to Joy. I said, "Mama will be back soon" and I carefully shut the door.

I finished my shower about 15 minutes later. Cole had a brand-new bruise on his forehead and a rapidly-swelling bump under one eye. He had a truck under one arm and a dirty sock in his mouth. He spit the sock out, told me "bye bye," and, when that failed to get the desired response, tried "night night."

He wasn't in his crib. He wasn't even in his room.

Houston, we have a problem.

accidental hearts