Here is the link to my Paris slideshow video from my recent trip. It’s best to view it in high quality and full screen. I had a lot of fun making it and think I’ve found a new obsession.

No, I ain’t foolin’. As if it were Christmas or her birthday or some other occasion known for its gifts and festivities, my nine year old daughter had looked forward to April Fool’s Day since the first week of March. Although somewhat endearing, it is same to assume that she had thus been plotting for at least that long. Fortunately, she was wise enough to leave me out of her silly shenanigans.

I think it turned out that the foolin’ was on her, since she was less than successful in her endeavors. Her main target, assuredly by default, was big sister, Kayli. Either her rationale must have been that she envisioned her father and I to be too smart to fall prey, or none too happy if we did.

After lamenting that Kayli would doubtfully accept an offer of cookies from her on any given day, let alone April Fool’s, she confided the secret ingredient to me. She had ingeniously taken a few Oreos and replaced the white filling with toothpaste. In all actuality, she did a fine good job. They looked like genuine, untampered with food products. Not divulging this to her, but had I been in the market for an Oreo, I totally would have fallen for it.

Running out of possible victims, she knew he was her last resort, but also knew there may be uncomfortable consequences if her prank caused the unwitting party to freak out. “I can’t do it to Brock, can I, because he’s just a little kid?” Considering the just-mentioned little kid detests any kind of minty toothpaste to the point that he causes quite a production of yelling and spitting and then yelling some more, I confirmed it was a no-go. “Dang,” she said, “I ruined these Oreos for nothing!” I reassured her that it wasn’t for nothing. For she could now eat her snack and clean her teeth at the same time.

Later when Kayli returned home, and not knowing anything of the cookie incident, she laughingly told me that Makenna had tried to get her for April Fool’s Day. I asked how she knew, but soon realized we weren’t talking about the same matter. For some reason, Kayli had thought to check her alarm clock the previous night, which usually remains programmed to the same time. Lo and behold, it was set for 5:00 a.m, an hour and half before she gets up. Momentarily puzzled by this, she then recollected that it was the eve of the day her younger sister had been plotting for weeks. It doesn’t take a crime scene investigator to put those pieces together.

I have to admit, for a nine year old she devised some darn good stratagems. And although her success fell short of her ambitions, more importantly her heart was in the right place.

Well, sort of.

Considering the extremely high nasty factor of my last post, I thought this would be the perfect time to share something sweet and simple, yet meaningful. I find this photograph simply precious. All of us can appreciate it for the loving sentiment it portrays, but I think particularly as a mother, I find it emotionally powerful. Initially, it evokes tenderness and respect. Yet oddly, when continuing to gaze at the image, I feel almost melancholy. It may correlate to the way their expressions portray a deeply somber look. I can’t make out if the young one is nursing or just snuggling, but the seriousness of their faces renders the impression that they are seeking comfort in one another.   Perhaps I feel a tinge of sadness because it reminds me of the days when my little ones were littler and often content for long stretches of time, held snugly against my chest.

I suppose another plausible explanation is that it conjures untapped memories from a previous life. Come to think of it, when I was a child my mom’s brother did always taunt me by claiming he was a monkey’s uncle.

Regardless, I find the image to be quite touching. It reminds us of nature’s powerful bond between mother and child.

I surmise you may be questioning the unmistakably obvious nature of the title. It may seem straightforward to you and me, nevertheless, this simple fact is not absolute in the mind of an innocent child who has no definitive proof of said claim. Demonstrating that human nature is often more powerful than knowledge, it was amusing that my son, who seems to be oblivious to the anatomy of the sexes, still possesses the innate desire to see the feminine form in all it’s glory.

As we were waiting in the doctor’s office today, I gave my five-year-old son a Coastal Living magazine to look at, hoping it would keep him entertained for at least a little while. The first thing that caught his eye was an ad for Vanilla Wafers which boasted an over-sized, picture-perfect presentation of two banana pudding parfaits, alongside the recipe. Wanting us to recreate this spectacular gastronomic delight at home (but unconvinced I could remember the three ingredients), he took it upon himself to phonetically write down the vital components for me: “venele wefers, petene, wapcram.”

(Vanilla wafers, pudding, whipped cream…He opted against the banana, therefore making it a plain old pudding parfait).

Satisfied with his grocery list, he flipped the page and continued browsing. Within moments, he let out a gasp followed by a giggle. You would have thought he had just come across his very first Playboy. Turning my attention to see what all the excitement was about, he pointed to the page and said, “Look, Mom! She’s naked!” He was, in fact, correct. There was a picture of a naked woman right there in the middle of this Coastal Living publication. But titillating, it was not. The strategically posed model was advertising milk, for crying out loud. Only her back, an arm, a shoulder, and part of a leg were visible. The photo lacked anything remotely resembling cleavage and was cropped to omit the mid-section all together. I casually acknowledged his finding, assuming that would dispel anything further on the subject.

Not ready to move on, he then approached my daughter to share a glimpse of this must-see image. After showcasing his newly discovered treasure, he eagerly inquired, “Why is she naked?” I explained that (contrary to his instincts) the picture was acceptable because her private parts weren’t showing. He then mischievously claimed to see one of her boobs and her pee-pee. Her pee-pee, naturally, meaning penis. I highly doubted he could see any part of a breast, and I was quite certain he did not see her penis, because even if she did have one, it wouldn’t have shown in that particular photo. I felt this would be a good time to reiterate to the little guy that women and girls do not sport penises. A penis is something far too special for God to have wasted on women. Well, that’s not exactly what I said–my actual words were significantly less sexist. But considering I had previously explained this bit of biology, I am not sure if he had just truly forgotten, or whether it’s because he simply can’t fathom someone not having a penis.

He eventually turned the pages and perused a little more, before returning, a number of times, to the milk advertisement. The child was literally giddy. Before flashing the infamous pose one last time, he presented us with the enticing offer, “wanna see something gross?” Laughing at the humor of the situation, I answered, “if you think it’s gross, why do you keep staring at it?” With a devilish little lopsided grin, he just rolled his eyes and proceeded to admire his first-ever dirty magazine.