12 . 30 . 63

44.

Today.

40 friggin' 4.

Nice number as numbers go. Double fours. Even number. Square. Four.

Good.

And the whole forty thing doesn't really bother me so much. Anymore. Turning 40 did. Turning 40 was like some death knell. And then I realized when I woke up on my 40th birthday that when I looked in the mirror I looked exactly like a 39 year old.

So, yeah. 44. Actually, I sorta wear it as a badge of courage or war ribbon. I exercise ruthlessly, I take care of myself and I indulge (perhaps ruthlessly, as well). My life is rich and full.

In fact, I'm not really sure I could ask for a better life.

Signed,

Narcissus Sutton

La Cite'

Tomorrow we're off to NYC for several days.

Long overdue visit to see my bro, Colby, and his family in Brooklyn and Scott's sis, Leslie, in Soho.

Big trip. Big fun.

A big post-Christmas excursion.

Pictures, anecdotes, stories to follow.

(view from my brother's Colby's home in DUMBO)

Shut Your Eyes

Shut your eyes and sing to me..... When the world is too much just groove and feel dizzy, light and free.

Riddle me this:

Is the amount of sugar consumed by children during the holidays directly correlated to the amount of alcohol consumed by their parents? Or, is it vice-versa?

Truly a conundrum.

Holiday Hullabaloo

This. This electrical fantasy is just a half a mile from our home.








This house is in Jamaica Plain.










We live in Brookline.





Not so many Christmas decorations up...not so many lights...a rare wreath or Christmas tree in the window can be spotted but the red and green around Brookline isn't so much. More subdued.



And that's okay. We're constantly fighting the behemoth of consumerism and frenetic pace of this holiday season...so, if we're sparing our kids the unrelenting lights and the decorations and the yuletide carols that's okay with us.



But on that occasion when we need a shot of that-in-your-face-Santy-Claus-holiday-spirit we drive by our neighbor's. KerPow!

I'm on the phone

Generally speaking, my kids get when I'm on the phone. They don't speak or tap me or try to interrupt, too much and for the most part. And if they don't get when I'm on the phone, they'll trail behind me as I walk from room to room trying to shake them off my trail. On the rare occasion that a message is so very important that it demands interruption, Maia will basically put a sign up in front of my face or wear something like a sandwich board and parade quietly in front of me until I see her.

Today, trying to pull off some holiday cheer (with two very hungover parents) Scott offered to make Christmas cookies with the kids.

And while I was on the phone, Maia posted the following smack in my face:

Ah Yeah!

Chatty McGee (aka Colby) starts his day with a litany of questions. From the minute he wakes up, through breakfast, getting dressed and while he's walking out the door he's got loads of questions. Today the inquisition was all about the Army, war and generals.


"What's the Army General's name"

"Petraeus"

"When there's no war does he have lots of free time?"

"No, not really. He still has to prepare the troops."

"Is he nice to his army?"

"Yup. It's his job to protect them"

"Does he get to drive a tank? Does he use a gun? Does he have his own phone? Does he wear Army pants?" etc., etc., etc.,

I, the Multi-tasker Mother Supreme, answer or respond the best I can as I dress, feed, pack, organize.... However, by the time Colby's got to be out the door with Scott to walk to school, I'm happy to pass the baton of Answer-Person to Scott.


"Does the Army change generals?"

"Colb, you're going to have ask Daddy that question as you're nearly late for school"

"But Daddy doesn't know everything."

Operation: Tannenbaum

ETD: 1100 hours.

Destination: Big John's Tree Farm, West Greenwich, RI

Orders: to find and hew the best tree suited to our ever-shrinking space

Outcome: Success

Eastern Standard Time

Dear Mr. Andrew Holden, General Manager:

My husband Scott and I had the pleasure of dining at Eastern Standard last night, Friday, December 7th. Both of us feel compelled to express our gratitude for what became a truly outstanding if not sublime dining experience. Not only was the food fantastic but the service and attention to detail (all on a very busy Friday night!) was beyond measure. Our server, Ellie, was an absolute delight as well as informed and engaging (but not too). Your stewardship as General Manager, both professional and approachable, was the icing on the cake.

We are a pair of food snobs that truly appreciate outstanding food and service and your establishment exceeded our expectations. We will be sure to return. We will most certainly be sure to inform our friends that Eastern Standard is most certainly a phenomenal restaurant.
And by the way, the extra touch of serving a taste of a Côtes du Rhône while we waiting for our bottle to arrive was genius. Plus! many thanks for treating us to a 2003 without changing the price.

We look forward to returning.

Warm regards,

Karen Sutton

Brookline, MA

The Wisdom of Children

The Wisdom of Children
by Simon Rich, March 26, 2007

I. A Conversation at the Grownup Table, as Imagined at the Kids’ Table

MOM: Pass the wine, please. I want to become crazy.
DAD: O.K.
GRANDMOTHER: Did you see the politics? It made me angry.
DAD: Me, too. When it was over, I had sex.
UNCLE: I’m having sex right now.
DAD: We all are.
MOM: Let’s talk about which kid I like the best.
DAD: (laughing) You know, but you won’t tell.
MOM: If they ask me again, I might tell.
FRIEND FROM WORK: Hey, guess what! My voice is pretty loud!
DAD: (laughing) There are actual monsters in the world, but when my kids ask I pretend like there aren’t.
MOM: I’m angry! I’m angry all of a sudden!
DAD: I’m angry, too! We’re angry at each other!
MOM: Now everything is fine.
DAD: We just saw the PG-13 movie. It was so good.
MOM: There was a big sex.
FRIEND FROM WORK: I am the loudest! I am the loudest!
(Everybody laughs.)
MOM: I had a lot of wine, and now I’m crazy!
GRANDFATHER: Hey, do you guys know what God looks like?
ALL: Yes.
GRANDFATHER: Don’t tell the kids.

II. A Day at UNICEF Headquarters, as I Imagined It in Third Grade

(UNICEF sits on a throne. He is wearing a cape and holding a sceptre. A servant enters, on his knees.)
UNICEF: Halloween is fast approaching! Have the third graders been given their little orange boxes?
SERVANT: Yes, your majesty!
UNICEF: Perfect. Did you tell them what the money was for?
SERVANT: No, sir, of course not! We just gave them the boxes and told them to collect for UNICEF. We said it was for “a good cause,” but we didn’t get any more specific than that.
UNICEF: Ha ha ha! Those fools! Soon I will have all the money in the world. For I am UNICEF, evil king of Halloween!
SERVANT: Sir . . . don’t you think you’ve stolen enough from the children? Maybe you should let them keep the money this year.
UNICEF: Never! The children shall toil forever to serve my greed!
(He tears open a little orange box full of coins and rubs them all over his fat stomach.)
UNICEF: Yes! Oh, yes!
SERVANT: Wait! Your majesty! Look at this! Our records indicate that there’s a kid out there—Simon—who’s planning to keep his UNICEF money this year.
UNICEF: What?! But what about my evil plans? I was going to give that money to the Russians so they could build a bomb!
SERVANT: (aside) I guess there’s still one hero left in this world.
UNICEF: No!
(He runs out of the castle, sobbing.)
SERVANT: Thank God Simon is keeping his UNICEF money.
SECOND SERVANT: Yes, it’s good that he’s keeping the money.
THIRD SERVANT: I agree. Simon is doing a good thing by keeping the money from the UNICEF box.
SERVANT: Then we’re all in agreement. Simon should keep the money.

III. How College Kids Imagine the United States Government

THE PRESENT DAY
—Did you hear the news, Mr. President? The students at the University of Pittsfield are walking out of their classes, in protest over the war.
—(spits out coffee) Wha— What did you say?
—Apparently, students are standing up in the middle of lectures and walking right out of the building.
—But students love lectures. If they’re willing to give those up, they must really be serious about this peace thing! How did you hear about this protest?
—The White House hears about every protest, no matter how small.
—Oh, right, I remember.
—You haven’t heard the half of it, Mr. President. The leader of the group says that if you don’t stop the war today they’re going to . . . to . . . I’m sorry, I can’t say it out loud. It’s just too terrifying.
—Say it, damn it! I’m the President!
—All right! If you don’t stop the war . . . they’re going to stop going to school for the remainder of the week.
—Send the troops home.
—But, Mr. President! Shouldn’t we talk about this?
—Send the troops home.

THE NINETEEN-SIXTIES
—Mr. President! Did you hear about Woodstock?
—Woo— Woodstock? What in God’s name is that?
—Apparently, young people hate the war so much they’re willing to participate in a musical sex festival as a protest against it.
—Oh, my God. They must really be serious about this whole thing.
—That’s not all. Some of them are threatening to join communes: places where they make their own clothing . . . and beat on drums.
—Stop the war.
—But, Mr. President!
—Stop all American wars!
—(sighs) Very well, sir. I’ll go tell the generals.
—Wow. It’s a good thing those kids decided to go hear music.

Do you ever wake up and fear that your morning voice might sound like Rachel Ray's?

scratchy + weird, indiscernible accent + yelling = as annoying as a kid that won't stop kicking their foot under the table

A New England Winter Tale

Make no mistake,

let there be no misunderstanding,

let me be perfectly clear:

Winter is upon us. The dark days of sub-zero wind chill, invisible ice and frozen sidewalks are here.

So, how do I prepare for these temperatures (21 degrees now but feels like 5 due to the cheek-biting wind)? How do I make sure my two kids protected against the cold and are comfortably dressed for the outdoors?

I dress my nine year old in last year's snow overalls (size 6/7) and pray that she doesn't sit down and realize the wedgie of her life. And I convince her that her lime-green unlined rainboots look exactly like the uber-cool snowboots the kids in Sweden wear (bold-faced lie #1).

and....

I dress my six year old in his older sister's gear and say that even though the purple and light blue pattern on the pants may look like flowers they are actually "fast snowflakes" and are exactly like the US Olympic men's ski team uniforms (bold-faced lie #2).