Linkety Dinkety Doo: Points to consider while I'm in line at the polls

I am taking Lil E with me to our new voting place today. They won't recognize us there, as they always did in gym of the Catholic school across from our old apartment. But that's OK. Lil E's convinced he's voting too, so I will bring him a special Sharpie and homemade ballot of his own to keep him occupied and happy and well-prepared for (oh my) the 2022 elections.

While we step out to step in line, won't you catch up on some of my favorite reading of the week? I promise to swipe a few stale donuts and weak coffee so we can sit and chat when I get back.


Oh, Stefania, thank you. You said a whole world, a big hope, in only a few paragraphs. Plus, you made me cry during an election that has mostly made me rant.

Oh, Tracy, I know. I turned down lots of offers to flaunt my boobs during the 18 months (yes, EIGHTEEN) I breastfed too. OK, so none of them was a major box office production (some grrrls are meant for much lower budgets, I guess), but still, I hear you (ummm) knocking.

Oh, David, I get it. Trying to be grounded, especially for yourself and by yourself, is a long, exhausting and invigorating journey. Here's to walking our talk.

Oh, Rachel, you ask the best questions. This one is about how we tangle emotions up in our bedsheets and if intimacy is possible without sex. Oh la la. What to say about that? Ideally, yes but realistically, no?

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This is my 401K, people: I get a pillow in the mail

Being more open about my chronic sleep deprivation and my lightbulb moment that it has become a way I not only neglect but maltreat myself, has turned out to be a very good thing.

I get IMs asking why I'm online so late from my friends from coast to coast. My brother's been checking in to see if I am feeling better and getting more rest. Lulu gives me gentle reminders to hang up the phone and crawl into bed. And Lil E keeps telling me how good it is when I escape my blog by hiding under the covers, like a monster pulling at me in the wee hours. All of this has nudged me in the right direction.

And then, as it sometimes happens when one publishes their intimacies on the interwebs, I was sent a pillow in the mail. Attached was a note wishing me better sleep and encouraging me to take three weeks to adjust to the new pillow and my new sleep habits (who knew?).

Lil E was not happy. He wanted a pillow too. (See how he's making the play for it by faking sleep so freaking adorably in the picture above?)

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Lil E Explains: Pacifier (in)dependence

Lil E: Mommy, Mommy, MOMMY!

Me: Yes, doll?

I look in the rear view mirror at the boy in the sunglasses, OSU hat and Batman gloves in the car seat. He catches my eye and lapses into a fakey pout, crying softly without tears. I interrupt.

Me: Yes?

Lil E: My paci at school has two holes in it! My teacher says it is because my teeth are so much stronger now.

Me: What a bummer.

I'm downplaying my delight. The paci's the last bastion of babyhood and needs to go. I was reluctant while we were in transition and the more I've upped the Paci Rules, the tighter he's held to the freaking nuk. I've pushed and he's pushed back. And then I remembered how he operates and how much better the milestones go when he takes the reigns.

Lil E: Sooooo, I didn't use it during nap today. I decide I'M DONE! I'm alllll done with the paci at school for nap.

I nod and smile to avoid flipping the car in my excitement.

Me: Reaaalllly? Hmmm.

Lil E: Yeah, it just feeled so yucky in my mouth so I put it right in my little cubby.

Me: It seems like...oh, I don't know...if it's broken and feels bad and you aren't going to use it, you could just toss it in the trash.

Lil E: No, thanks. I prefer just to know it's in my cubby even if I don't need it.

Me: OK, fair enough. And honey? I am so proud of you. It seems you gave a lot of thought to that.

Lil E: I DID! I am so proud of myself!

Me: Good! You are such a big boy. You're so old and wise and mature and grown-up. Next thing, you'll be ready to drive and date!

Lil E: OH MOMMY! THANK YOU! I am ready for that! THANKS, Mommy! THANKS! YEAHHHHHHH!

OK, so he's not ready for those reigns. At least not until he can sit still in the driver's seat booster chair without squirming for two blocks.

For now, he feels good, he feels proud, he feels independent. And the pacifier's across the room, finally tattered and tossed aside.  He might think he's going to get to drive as a result of that decision, and I'm just thankful he won't actually be getting his license with the plug still in his mouth.

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