The Final Days of November Post

Today Lea was singing along to Adele's Chasing Pavements, her voice as rich as her 9-year-old body could muster. Full of emotion, she crooned, "Should I give up/or should I just keep chasing cavemen..."

Oh, the hilarity.

Also today: my husband pulled up to our house in a cab, jumped out, opened the front door, and kissed me hello. Then he tilted his head to the side. "You look beautiful," he said. And then he ran back outside, jumped into the cab, and was gone again.

Oh, the hilarity. But also: why did he tilt his head like that?

I saw two movies over the weekend, both adapted from graphic novels. We attempted a go at The Descendants, but it was sold out, and so we ended up at...Immortals. It was filled with eye candy in the enviable shapes of Henry Cavill (yay The Tudors!) and the glorious Frieda Pinto; gasp-worthy violence (oh, the poor faux virgin oracles!); a campy Mickey Rourke; and sets that looked like they were straight out of a Hellenic-themed Vegas spa. In other words: so excellent.

On Sunday I took the girls to Hugo, a book much beloved by all three of them. So dreamy, this movie, what with the steam and the snow and the enormous clocks. And the automaton! Anyways, go see it. Make it a holiday gift to yourself.

Let's Just Start Typing

Let's see what happens.

Maybe I'll write about how I hate my printer because regardless of the fact that all ink is fully loaded, it will only print in blue.

Maybe I'll write about how I rue the day we gave the twins their phones because now all they ever do is text and download free apps. I've attempted all sorts of remedies including taking the phones for large blocks of time, normal conversation, heated conversation, yelling, and freaking out. Nothing really works. I'm hoping the novelty will wear off soon.

Lea's "noisemaker," i.e. the little machine that has played white noise in her room all night long since she was born, has up and died. The ensuing drama was not unexpected. "Oh, Mama! Oh noooooo..."

I recently found the blog Letters of Note, which contains all sorts of letters from all sorts of people. The one below is from Roald Dahl, written to a girl who was inspired by The BFG to send him one of her dreams in a bottle. Isn't this so beautiful?:

And that will have to do for now because I'm off to...somewhere...to find a new noisemaker for Lea.