Things to do this year

1. Get DNA test for my twins.

Fresh out of the oven, they looked like two completely different children. Within hours, we started to have trouble telling them apart. It got to the point that we tagged one with a red (non-Kaballah) string when it came time to take off the hospital bracelet. Now, at 2+ years, I'm asked approximately five times a week whether they are identical. It would be nice to know the answer, although it is fun to come up with various different responses, depending on how I feel.

2. Buy new sweatpants.

The babysitter is really, really nice about pretending to ignore the hole in the bum each morning, but one of these days I'll have to take delivery of a UPS package or something. Besides, with two power poopers in her charge, she sees enough rear ends.

3. Go to the dermatologist.

It's time to get an updated quote on how much it would cost to remove all those little red dot things all over my body. And they have free hand cream samples in the waiting room. Plus, skin cancer screening, yada yada yada.

Arabellas everywhere!

Last night I saw Atonement. So as not to spoil too much for anyone who hasn't seen it, all I'll say is, the wicked little girl's play features a character named Arabella!

Then, today...my necklace!

http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=24247488

And C.S. is BUYING IT FOR ME! Thank you so much, C.S.!

Is this an omen? Do I need to resume writing more seriously?

Melting Shot

Okay, since I finally got a comment on my Marilyn Chambers post (much appreciation directed to my friend at Apathy Lounge), I will now get back to the business of filling in my remaining three readers (one of them is my mom) on what the kids are up to.

Since we at the Trattoria Breve are quite pretentious, we're teaching Sage and Thyme as much as we can about food. We're also teaching them a bit of Italian, but, so far, only the fun words. They know how to both say and pronounce parmigiano, and we recently got them started on extra virgin olive oil. Since they're only half Italian, we have to get the golden green liquid infused into their blood as soon as possible. I just hope it doesn't have the unintended consequence of correcting their adorable version of "Che fa" (loosely translated as, "What are you doing?" or "What do you want?" "Che" is pronounced "kay."). Currently, they say, "Key fa?" And they do it complete with hand gesture--index finger and thumb together, facing up, extended outwards and shaken a few times in rapid succession.

We provided them with some small pieces of ciabatta and their own individual dipping dishes. As I was placing the dipping dishes in front of them, my mind flashed to that Gary Larson "Far Side" (quotes for cartoon names, yes?) cartoon where there's a body on the floor of the kitchen and a puff of smoke or something, alongside an open copy of a book called Recipes for Disaster. Ty was sure the high chairs were going to get a hefty helping of lubrication. We were both pleasantly--and humorously--surprised.

Without batting an eyelash, both boys picked up their little-but-deep Pyrex dipping dishes and proceeded to down the oil in a single gulp. Ty pointed out that they were probably culturally confused; the Italian half embraced the olive oil, but their Anglo half called upon them to do it in shots.

In other news, I'm back on Weight Watchers after 2007's failed attempt. I've lost six pounds and feel significantly better.

I miss my blog.