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  • I = Done

    Long day of work, biz lunch, then dinner for baby, then check into work, then play in the park, then playing mega fetch with 8-year-old next door and Stan and then bath and then Hugo knocking over the 8-year-old's orange juice, then cleaning up the OJ then baby bedtime (milk, books, brush), then making awesome shrimp Madras for me and man, then nostalgic red wine (Gigondas baby!) then back to work and then making one of my sillier vids ever for Babble.  Hope you lurve it.

    Did I mention I'm pooped?

    Ya, I think so. Loving youse Interneters. xoxo, Susie
  • Total Balls

    Is the title of this post perhaps about Hugo's early intervention assessment?  No, not really.  I'll tell the whole early intervention story soon, but the long and short of it is that:

    #1 I liked the women who showed up this morning much more than I expected.   They were kind and they were pros.  Until recently I had forgotten that I was in speech therapy from age 5-12 and somehow couldn't get sprung from it once in.  So I've bad memories of being trapped against my will, missing regular class in a land of dull dittoes and dull children, "taught" by sincere speech teachers I wanted to run screaming from even then. And due to this I've a chip on my larynx about the whole speech business, ya dig?

    #2 I liked them speech ladies even more when I found out that Hugo is advanced in most areas, and just has a "33% speech delay." What exactly that means I'm still not sure.  But I've a piece of paper declaring him a social and developmental star and that's nice.  The fine motor skills of a 28 month old?  The social/emotional skills of a two year old?  The cognitive skills of a 33-year-old genius?  Well slap me with a flounder, and call me Cedric!  Thats fantastic!  Oh and that last one was a bit of an exadggeration, but only slightly.

    Speaking of balls, Hugo is obsessed with them.  Here's two days in a row of ball kicking action. The first soccer ball you see wasn't his, he simply swooped in and stole the ball from a group of sweet Hispanic kids.  The kids were really kind and also distracted by the dogs who had joined us in the park.  Ever since the basketball net broke, the park has blossomed with all ages and genders and species and sports.  We're all hoping the net doesn't come back.  When the basketball net went up, this little park became for men 18+ only and there was no room for little girls, kids skating, playing handball, playing with their dogs, playing soccer, etc.  Note to self: Call the Mayor's office tomorrow to request the net not be fixed...

    G'night Internet. Lotsa love. xoxo, Susie


  • Earth Day NJ: Mommy Flips Out

    Jumbo Shrimp.  Brooklyn College.  And now, improbable as it seems, the deliciously oxymoronic Earth Day New Jersey. The man unit was working this past Sunday and I'd been too busy to plan ahead with friends, so Hugo and I had to find a way to entertain ourselves.  I loathe shopping, so during naptime, when I read about the park with Earth Day Fair and promised children's activities, I said what the hay. Check out my thrilling quest through Satan's arse NJ.  Driving less than 6 miles, took an hour. Oi. Sorry Earth, my bad!

    In other news, I lost 3 pounds this week with moderate diet and exercise.  Which is super impressive if you hadn't read about last week's scandalous weigh-in.  Oh well.  Keep on keepin' on...

    Coming this week, stay tuned for a peek or three into our wacky, fun, drama and food-filled Seder at Grandma's. 

    See you soon Internet friends.

    Kisses,

    me

    UPDATE:  Turns out Earth Day celebration was Saturday, not Sunday and the emails alerting me to the event just showed up late.  But in my DUH-fense, before I went, I swear I checked the park's website.  As you can see the website for Liberty State Park is one page with no links.  But I dug and found the park's calendar of events, which you can see, hasn't been updated since 2001 (!). 

    Still, being caught in traffic and having a little girl in a pretty dress spit on my dog* was cool, right?

    * The mother of the little girl didn't say anything to her daughter when/after she spit on my dog and since the mother was obviously a Muslim (she and what looked like the girl's grandmother were wearing the headscarves), I was too intimidated by my guilty liberal conscience to say anything/get visibly angry.  But when after she spat twice, the little girl made as if to stamp on my dog like he was a little ant, I said, "No, we do not threaten dogs."  But I said it in a really soft way as she wasn't my daughter and again, I didn't want to seem like I had anything against Muslims, because I don't. 

    I know, I'm an idiot for going to Earth Day the wrong day and possibly for being so careful I am incapable, in the moment, of giving minorities the same "me" I'd give anyone else.  


  • Lucky Buddha Baby Belly

    It's been a rough week emotionally and physically. From a shared stomach flu to the dentist, to others being ill -- all while working and trying to wade through the speech delay intervention absurdity (we have an assessment to look forward to at some point) -- this week ain't no party, it ain't no disco, it ain't no foolin' around. I'm in bed right now under the cherry duvet at 9pm hoping to read a few pages of a book I haven't touched in weeks. In short, its not you, it's me.  We are experiencing mommy meltdown, please stand by. 

    Rub this tummy for luck (try it -- it works, really!) and I'll be back in a flash with new videos and wonderment.

    Buddha Belly w/ lens cap

    Patting this tum tum brings great fortune!

    PS Can you believe he's 25th percentile for weight?  He looks like the baby that ate Weehawken.


  • The Not-So-Great Outdoors

    That's Hugo at a beautiful playground you've never been to.

    Now here's video, followed by some thrilling info about this stunning locale.

     

    This playground is in West New York, a town whose name betrays the fact that it dearly wishes it wasn't in New Jersey. The playground is awesome, although when we were there it only had a few teens loitering, boys and girls lying on the ground next to the swings, insulting and punching each other ever so happily. Oh and a guy came in look like he wanted to do something shady, but saw the security guard there and shoved off.

    West New York has amazing views. But it also currently has a guy who's assaulting women at gunpoint, which sounds bad until you remember the guy who killed a woman and left her in a dumpster.  But West New York isn't all bad. Besides the sex fiends and the murderers it also has great views and smells like exhaust 24/6.  Not 24/7 because it honestly abates a bit on Sunday.*

    The best part about living in this part of New Jersey?  Even though you're a stone's throw from Manhattan, you never have to worry anyone will drop by unexpectedly, or ever.  Think of the money we save on guest towels.  Why it almost makes up for living in social Siberia!

     All the best, Interweb friends, and kisses to you.

    Next time I'll have pics and photos from a weekend in the truly great outdoors --  the Catskills .

    Until then,

    I remain,

    Susie 

    *Note to shocked British relatives: I am exaggerating for comic effect.  We do not live in a crime-ridden hell hole.  It does, however, smell.  It's actually a New Jersey law that all towns and cities must smell bad.**

     **OK that thing about the smelly town law is not true, but it sure seems like it could be.


  • All Irish People Are Leprechauns

    Or at least, that's the impression one got visiting Hugo's school today.  Check out just a few of the art installations in this thrilling :43 video.

    Sure it was St. Patrick's Day, but I am now convinced all my Irish friends have pots of gold.  

    OK, I worked a long day (at home but a day is a day), had a fabulous dinner playdate with Sondra and Finnegan (video evidence may be coming soon), and reconnected with an old friend who is making the rest of us look bad by  the fact that she's completing medical school at the age of 36.  Ugh.  Disgustingly amazing right? 

    Anyway, I  am so tired I nearly put dog kibble in the dishwasher's soap compartment.  Dishwasher, you say?  Am I a millionairess?  Or perhaps Irish?  Nope, I'm in Weehawken.  We have dishwashers.  Who needs a Starbucks, a bookstore, a library with Wi-Fi, a museum, a -- OK, I'm getting depressed and you get the picture.  Stick a fok in me, I'm done.  

     Kisses and night night Internets.

     xoxo,

    Susie 



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