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Operation: Big Girl Bed (BGB) is so far from “mission accomplished”.  Two nights in a row, she goes to bed with no problems.  She lays down, goes to sleep, and we don’t hear from her ’til morning.  Last night, however?  Last night The Girl crept out of, and was escorted back to, her bed for three hours.


Your and You’re

I’m beginning to believe that fighting the erroneous “your” is futile.

It started, like most bad things do, with Paris Hilton.  Actually, that’s not fair.  Surely, people had been doing it for years – Paris Hilton just popularized it with a t-shirt declaring “thats hot” on one side and “your not” on the other side.  “Ha!”  I thought, upon seeing the shirt.  “Grammar fail!  Let’s all point-and-laugh now!  Guys?  Guys?”  I thought that surely all would see the misspelling for what it was, a silly grammatical error.  That was ten years ago.  Today, I am an English teacher who wades through piles of my pupils’ puerile papers wielding a weary red vis-à-vis pen, blithely circling “your”s and adding apostrophes and “e’s”.

But it’s not just my students.  I see it in text messages and on Twitter – from people who really should know better.  I get letters from my daughter’s daycare with the common typo.  One card said “Mommy, your the best!” and someone had affixed my three month old’s “signature” to the offending statement.

At first I found it funny.  Then I became enraged by it.  Now, I’m just shell-shocked and numb to its effects.  Perhaps fighting the rising tide of “your” has become a hopeless battle.

Chef Petals

Trying to cook with a hungry Petals in the kitchen is like being on “Kitchen Nightmares” – except the chef isn’t barking encouragement and helpful advice, but is shrieking at the top of her lungs and hanging onto your legs.  And I’ve seen Chef Ramsay poking his head into pantries and cupboards – but never have I seen him actually hide in the cupboards, waiting to pop out after you’ve gone “Where’s Chef Ramsay?  There he is!” at least half a dozen times.

I must say, though the feeling of relief that floods my body when the mac and cheese ( has been plated and the entree is finally pushed out to the hungry customer (id est the fussy toddler in the high chair) must surely be the same.

Petals Loves Pouches

These pouches are a life-saver…I think.

She loves them so much that when we walk by them in the store she begins squealing, squirming, and screaming for them.  I have to throw them into the cart if I want to avoid toddler angst.  To take them out of the cabinet and pack them up in her diaper bag requires the ultimate stealth.  Unlike her plate, it doesn’t matter what the contents are.

Fruit and veggie pouches? Yogurt smoothie pouches? Apple? Butternut squash? Spinach? They’re all equally delectable in pouch form.

I hear tell, from other the other daycare moms, that their babies love pouches too. Maybe it’s a portability/independence thing.  More veggies always equals “very yes” in my book, but I worry that she’ll only want pureed pea form, now, instead of recognizing the goodness of the “real thing”.


I’m a good teacher – I know that I am.

And I know that rejection is a part of the process.

I can handle rejection.

I teach kids how to handle rejection.

So why am I taking this rejection to heart?