Homebase: November 17

My friend Kathleen loaned me a book on motherhood and materialism. It was called "Consuming Motherhood" I believe. It took reading the first paragraph 3 times to figure out that it was about 4 grades above my reading comprehension at this point. It took less than the first paragraph to figure out that the book was really going to annoy me. I returned it to her without reading any more and decided to go shopping. Ha.

I just received the Nova Natual Toys catalogue (www.novanatuals.com). What's the big deal? Well for one thing they are such an environmentally responsible company that they only send out their catalogue once a year, so I've been waiting for a while. Really. It was packaged more beautifully than our wedding invitations were. When I say that I was moved to actual tears twicewhile reading this catalogue, I am not exagerating. I took it to the coffee shop to read it the first time, sipping a latte and chewing a biscotti. The second time (the weepy time) I read it in the bathtub with a glass of wine. I know it is foolish to believe that buying certain toys could make your children grow up better or make my own life more joyful but looking at the catalogue, I sure could come close to believing it. I suppose that is just really good advertising. (I vaguely recall feeling a similar sense of longing about the J. Crew catalogue when I was in high school). Knowing that I'm both a sucker and a materialistic consumer did not stop me from dropping a hefty chunk in their coffers (from the check that my generous, English uncle sent when P was born--everyone should have a generous English uncle...). The wooden blocks that I got for Diego were made by mentally and physically challenged individuals in a Camphill community in Upstate NY. Seriously. Read it and weep: http://www.camphillvillage.org/

I was at the Green Line (our local coffee shop) with the kids today (what else is new) and we seemed to be attracting an inordinately large number of dirty looks from the other folks there. I had the giant pram which was loaded down with Diego's school blankets, his lunch box, blankets for P, my knitting bag (it's really a sickness to carry it everywhere just in case, even though I have never in my life had a moment to knit), the diaper bag, a shopping bag with wet diapers in it and my coat hanging off the back of the pram. Jesus that's a lot of crap. Plus I was trying to negotiate Diego's hot chocolate with a spoon and top (but of course I can't put the top on until he's eaten the whipped cream off with a spoon), napkins and my coffee on a table that wobbled. And of course I was paying with quarters because my wallet got stolen the other day (a story too depressing to recount), while bouncing P who was crying with a wet diaper and Diego whining to come "Uppy." So we were a little bit of a scene, but honestly better than the philosphy students, I think. I couldn't decide though, if I was being one of those parents...the loud mouth oblivious ones whose children are named Anastasia and Henry. Speaking of...I started chatting with a man who was sitting outside with 3 kids, two of whom were about D's age, and a 3 month old baby. The girl was wearing a leopard skin polar fleece hat. The kids names were "Cella" (pronounced chella) and "Luke," and the baby was "Rocco." "Oh, just like Madonna," I said. Then I asked if they were from NY. He wanted to know how I knew. Yeah right.

Enough rambling. I have to go to bed, but before I do, I must adress a serious misunderstanding that has come to my attention. I understand that some people in my circle believe Penelope to be a less attractive baby than Diego was. This cannot go on. Behold, equally cutest babies.
Can you tell who's who???