savagemama

Yesterday I sat in my car with tears streaming down my face listening to a book on CD by a hardened war correspondent as she talked of her friend in Baghdad, their time together and their bittersweet goodbye. She is a woman after my own heart living on cola and kit-kats, cigarettes and adrenaline, and scooping the major TV networks. I love listening to her tales of satellite phone mishaps, dodging information ministry officials and her tender accounts of the people of Iraq. She’s a little salt, a little sugar, a little whiskey on the rocks.

I have never wanted to be a war correspondent, specifically. An intrepid reporter waving the flag of high journalistic standards, maybe. Lately, I’d settle for relatively stable mama-writer but, these days, that seems about as illusive as carrying a DAT recorder through Baghdad. [Read More]

Last week Eliza and I went to two toddler events one right after the other. First, we hit story time at the library during which Eliza couldn’t be bothered to sing or dance until the very end when she turned herself around during the Hokey Pokey. That’s what it’s all about, I suppose. Between some serious people watching, I kept singing Flight of the Conchords’ “It’s Business Time” and replace business with story. I’m not sure if this makes me an unfit mother or not.

Our second stop on our toddler tour was Chaos Knitting put on by a friend of mine. It was a perfect opportunity for mamas to knit, chat and let our toddlers feed each other cheese crackers off the floor and share the same milk cups. It was a bit of a toddler Lord of the Flies. I was convinced we were going to leave with a good case of the Hanta Virus but so far, we’re breathing fine, and I got some good time in with other ladies.

Eliza and I went home after Toddler Fest ’08 and we both fell asleep for a good long nap.