There's a new game in town...

it's called "Let's throw Moo out of the crib and scream as loud as as I can until one of the suckers comes back to retrieve him for me."

This has been Jordan's game all week, and in his own mind, it's the height of hilarity. As soon as one of us puts him to bed and walks out the door, Moo goes flying out of the crib.

Fine. Who cares. Moo's out of the crib.

Except, that almost instantly, the monkey starts screaming.

"Want Moo! I want my Moo!" How about another Moo??" (This "other Moo" refers to the herd of backup Moos that reside in his closet. He discovered them. Rather than being disturbed by the fact that Moo was not a unique entity, Jordan has gotten immense pleasure out of picking and choosing which Moo will be his bedmate for the evening. (He's kind of like a miniature Hugh Hefner, without the smoking jacket.)

We played the game for awhile. Come back in. Pick up the damn cow, hand it to him. Admonish him not to throw it out again. Etc.

This afternoon, I had enough. I warned him:

"If you throw Moo out of the crib, I will take him away. That's it. No More Moo."
(Sometimes I hear the words that come out of my mouth, and some distant part of me is standing there next to myself wondering "Who is this person?")

Big surprise. He threw the Moo out.

I let him cry for ten minutes, picturing him staring at Moo sprawled across the carpet from the confines of his crib. I enjoyed that mental image. It made up for a host of indignities he has put me through this week.

I walked in. Took the cow, tuned to him and said:

"I warned you. No more Moo. You threw Moo out. Now Mommy takes him. Bye bye Moo."

I am heartless.

I looked back just long enough to catch a glimpse of the red-faced apoplectic rage that consumed his little face. Ferocious anger exploded, as he began leaping up and down in the crib, shouting hyserical non-sensical syllables of baby nonsense.



An example of angry monkey face.

I let him cry it out. I'm that kind of monster.

He fell asleep eventually. He woke up an hour or so later - a very short nap for him. The first words out of his mouth were a plaintative request for his Moo.

I came in and gave it to him. I warned him again of the consequences for evicting Moo from the crib. He sniffed, and held on to the cow for dear life.

Of course I had my camera on hand to document the reunion.



Tonight Jeff put him to bed. There was no repeat of the Moo incident.



Too bad. Me and the bovine had fun hanging out this afternoon. If only I could be this strong when it comes to the food issues. One day.

He may be goofy...

but we still love him.

This one goes out to the ladies ...

I used to make fun of my mother for her shoe collection. Her collection was so vast, it required its own personal space. Her shoe collection was legendary. Her shoe love spawned its own philosophy, which she shared with me.

If it's on sale, and you like it, buy one in every color ... and if they are selling coordinating purses, buy one of those too.

Children of the 80's, you may recall an episode in history involving the one-time dictator of the Phillipines, Ferdinand Marcos. I distinctly recall his wife, Imelda, who achieved notoriety because of her shoe collection. I used to refer to my mother as Imelda, which in my juvenile mind, was the height of hilarity at the time.

Like much else in life, all that past baggage has a way of creeping up on you. One day you're a spry teenage with a teeny waist, and the next thing you know .. you've become your mother.

I have.

But apparently, certain traits I have passed on to my daughter as well.

Mina's shoe collection



A miniscule sampling of mine. The rest of it remains hidden in the shelves of my walk in closet, under my bed, under my dresser, in the hallway, by the front door, in my gym bag, in the living room, etc.



I make no apologies for this. While clothes may come and go, sizes shrink or get too big ... shoes always fit. Shoes help you arrive at your destination. They take you on adventures, walk you along the streets of life. Shoes make the outfit.

Shoes make me happy.