The golfish years

Ooh, a blog. I tried for the title "Yet another blog," but apparently someone's already taken that.

I was also going to call it "Better than Housework," because everything is, and because most of this motherhood thing isn't housework. It's the opposite--watching or even helping your kids tear the house apart in pursuit of fun and learning or just making the time go by until it's dinner. Maybe that's still a better title.

Anyhow, here we are in the goldfish years. We are surrounded by the snack that smiles back: there are goldfish on my younger son's plate at the moment, stale (but apparently still edible) goldfish in the crack of his carseat, and goldfish crumbs in the crease of the sofa. Goldfish crackers are our default snack, mostly because they come in a really big carton at CostCo and they take a while to become too stale to nibble on.

I've also been thinking about Goldfish because I recommended Laurie Berkner's song "The Goldfish" to the Tuesday storytime librarians. It's perfect for little kid miming because it has lyrics about swimming, brushing teeth, taking a shower, riding bicycles and sleeping. And a catchy little tune. Unfortunately, I told them it was called, "Let's Go Swimming!" so I hope they figure it out.