Snow in August

No, Cleveland weather isn't quite that strange. The Kid found a new activity yesterday - breaking up extra pieces of styrofoam from the move into "snow," otherwise known as a big freaking mess in my living room.

Since I'm kind of at the end of my parenting rope, I let him do it, with a warning that he would have to vacuum it up afterwards. This led to about an hour of vacuuming, during which he used the tiny little attachments to clean the A/C vents and gouge even MORE styrofoam out of the block and straight into the vacuum. Believe me, I'm not complaining - it's the cleanest things have been since we moved in.

A return visit to the Natural History Museum (yes, we got a membership) saw four hours of kid-centered activities, during which I:

• petted a taxidermied squirrel
• attempted to explain climate change to a 5 year old
• prevented any number of near-fatal altercations over using the kid-sized cranes and building equipment
• shelled out $19 for lunch and parking, and counted it cheap

Clearly I have used up all my mom resources, since this morning sees me blogging while he watches multiple episodes of "Might Machines" in his pajamas. Stay tuned for news of raiding the local Target for 24 small glue sticks and other ridiculous school supplies.

I love you. Really. Now fuck off.

My son is adorable. He'll turn 5 this weekend, if he lives that long.

When you're used to dashing off to work every day, dealing with grownups who are, for the most part, logical and interesting even when they're assholes, kids seems great. You see them about 2 hours a day, during which you are either getting them dressed, feeding them, bathing them, cuddling them, or cursing them for not going to sleep. And, you know, weekends, when you realize just why you are so grateful to the fabulous daycare and preschool teachers.

For the last two weeks, it's been nonstop parenting. Every day, all day long, with brief intermissions for traumatic visits to the vet to visit our dying cat (she's fine now) or try to find a single fucking coffee place that isn't Starbucks.

Which is why I was so delighted to discover that Cleveland has a Natural History Museum with real (ok, also simulated) dinosaur skeletons. If there's one thing guaranteed to entrance a small boy for a couple hours, it's dinosaurs, right?

Turns out the problem with exposing The Kid to so many great CGI dinosaur specials before he gets the difference between TV and reality is that bones are boring, compared to seeing them walking around and chasing the host. He did pull a little Ross Geller and start leading us on a tour of the exhibits, telling Bad Cohen and me everything he knew about the animals depicted. He knows a lot.

Anyone with ideas for turning this vast store of knowledge into something that he can use to entertain himself for a few minutes so I can actually unpack or maybe read the news in peace, please write. Please. I'm begging you.

Ohio. Not as bad as Idaho, but...

Both cats arrived late but traumatized, and we drove to the 80s-chic hotel near our new house at 1am to sleep off the trip. A week later, one of the cats is in the (very expensive) pet hospital with an unknown liver issue, while Bad Cohen is down with a 102+ degree fever and I'm watching the laundry grow to epic proportions because the washer apparently has a short that will kill the computer through some kind of appliancide.

I would relieve the stress with some shrubbery pruning (there's a holly extending a foot into the very narrow driveway), but all of the mosquitoes in the state have converged on our yard. And kindergarten starts a week later than I thought, so The Kid and I have an extra 6 days to continue our battle of wills over how much TV is too much.

Just in case anyone was wondering why I'm not online or, you know, sane.