Santa et. al.

It's been a bad week for politics, in my opinion, so rather than dwell on the negative, I thought I'd share some more happy holiday stories.

Every town or city probably has its own holiday wonderland spot, and Charleston's is pretty lovely. The Festival of Lights at James Island County Park is three miles of rather excitingly cool Christmas lights (My favorite is a rendition of the Old Cooper River Bridge that transforms into the new one. I remember driving over the rickety old bridge, and the reminder is nice and nostalgic, even for a transplant like me.), plus a Winter Wonderland area for kids (including the kid in Charles and me).

The park is about thirty minutes from our house, and we took the Jeep, hoping the novelty of our *other* car would keep Zoe happy even on a long-ish car ride. It didn't quite work, and by the time we got to the park, even the amazing, flashing, beautiful lights were not distraction enough for Zoe.

"I want to get OUT! NOW!" She demanded this repeatedly, only occasionally distracted by a super-cool light setup.

So we moved quickly to the play area, congratulating ourselves (rightfully so) on our good timing - we'd gone just at dusk, as the park opened, so that we didn't have to wait in any lines or deal with crazy parking issues.

Zoe was absolutely tickled by the marshmallow roasting pits - $1 per marshmallow stick wasn't a bad price, in my mind, for the happy, marshmallow-covered Zoe-smile that followed. After a quick wash-up in the bathroom, we went to visit Mrs. Claus, who was getting set up for a story-time session, but was talking to kids while she waited. Zoe was dubious at best, but stood near enough to get a candy cane.

It was when we moved to the additional play area that her night vastly improved. First, she rode on a beautiful old carousel, her first ever amusement park ride, and she thought it was the COOLEST THING EVER. She initially sat on a Dalmatian (Molly-dog), but then wanted to move to a horse. I moved her, since it was less than a step away, but when she saw the giraffe on the other side, I put my foot down. We stayed on the horse, and the ride started, and Zoe learned about the fun up-and-down-around-and-around of a good merry-go-round. And I only got a little dizzy.

Then, we saw the big man himself. Yep, Santa Claus. St. Nick. Father Christmas.

Now, I should say here that Zoe has never successfully seen Santa up close and personal. Her first year, we made a conscious decision that we didn't want one of those screaming-babies-on-Santa's-lap photos that grace web sites like Awkward Family Photos. Then last year, she was terrified of him.

This year, she was starstruck. She saw him and ran over to his stage, and waited less-than-patiently on line as other children had their turn with Santa.

When it was her turn, she ran up to him, probably her first-ever time running up to a stranger. She took his hands, and only got a little nervous when Santa set her on his lap. She chatted with him, and we actually have some photos of both Zoe and Santa looking at the camera and smiling. The one we chose to have printed shows them deep in conversation, Zoe's finger in her mouth, thoroughly engaged. It's my new favorite picture EVER.

Then, finally, we let our girl get on the carousel one more time, and she was so excited to sit on her giraffe that she was practically shaking as we waited for our turn. To the giraffe we flew, as soon as the gate was opened.

Zoe was in heaven, and we raced the other animals, patted the giraffe on the neck, and in general had a delightful ride that was over just a minute too soon.

As we left, Zoe cried, afraid other children were now riding *her* giraffe. I tried explaining that it wasn't exactly hers, but when that didn't work, Charles and I tacked right.

Me: "Yes, Zoe, that's your giraffe. I put a sticker on it with your name."

Charles: "So no other children will ride on the giraffe again."

It was a selfish way to end a really pretty night, but sometimes avoiding a two-year-old tantrum is worth a little white lie.

Anyway, I think we've started a new family tradition, and I'm glad of it. I had an amazing time with my family and I think Zoe and Charles did, too.

Thanks for a great night, guys! Love you!

We should always remember

I guess every generation really does have that one catastrophic event for which every person remembers exactly where they were when it occurred.

For my generation, it is and always will be the destruction of the World Trade Centers in lower Manhattan on September 11, 2001 (I was at a bakery in Upper Montclair, New Jersey, and I saw the smoke from the towers as I drove home that morning, in case you wondered). I don't think I've ever fully processed that day, and I try not to write much about it because I'm afraid that, even all these years later, I'll sound like a complete sap.

Other events, like the assassinations of John F. Kennedy or Martin Luther King, Jr., have stuck with my parents' generation, and always will.

For my grandparents' generation, it was the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Sixty-nine years ago today. Hard to believe it was so long ago, and that a whole generation of people who remember that day ("which will live in infamy forever") is rapidly dying. Soon, within the next decade or two, I imagine, very few people will be left.

Hard to imagine.

Especially when photographs like this still exist, and if a picture can a thousand words, I'd estimate these say millions. They are equal parts disturbing and impressive, upsetting and awe-inspiring. Take a look - especially check out the one which shows reporters running to phone their editors, every one of them thrilled to have such a scoop. It's a pretty interesting juxtaposition, no?

Anyway, that's what's been on my mind today. Pearl Harbor Day.

And we have a winner!

I am one of those people that love sweepstakes, lottery tickets, and raffles, but in all my thirty years, I have never won anything. My husband and I often joke that we must be lucky in some department because we sure aren't lucky in the contest/sweepstakes department. Well, that is except for right now.

Do you remember that scene from A Christmas Story when the father wins a sweepstakes and his package is delivered in a box with "Fragile" stamped on the side? We are about to recreate that scene in our house this week.

I have won a fleece pork chop. That's right, a fleece pork chop. Nope, you can't eat it because it's a toy, or according to the website, it could also serve as a pillow.

I'm almost certain this pork chop, which I have already named Porky, will become Max's favorite stuffed toy. My guess is that he will carry it around with him everywhere he goes and I'll have to explain to bystanders that no, it's not a dog's toy (although it could be, I suppose), it's just my son's favorite piece of toy meat.

Perhaps I'll frame and hang it next to the front door to remind us that we should never give up hope that we will (and can) win something.

Here come the holidays!!

In my house, we have always celebrated Hanukkah and Christmas, thanks to my Jewish mother and Catholic father. I've never seen any reason to abandon the tradition, so we're doing the same with Zoe.

Some years, like last year, the two holidays overlap, and they sort of merge together to form a big, overwhelming gift-fest, which is less than ideal.

But this year, Hanukkah is now-ish (it started Wednesday), with Christmas almost a full month away. So while there's still some overlap (i.e. we are already singing Christmas carols, and we put up our Christmas tree today), we're able to take our time and enjoy two almost-entirely-separate holidays.

Here are some share-able items from the first five nights of Hanukkah:

• When Zoe asked me if Santa Clause was bringing her Hanukkah presents, I decided it was time to introduce the concept of the Hanukkah Fairy, a longstanding Soltis tradition. When we were small, the Hanukkah Fairy would sneak into our house and hide our presents, and I always loved the search-and-find missions that entailed. So far, our Hanukkah Fairy has hidden presents under the couch and entertainment cabinet, in a bookshelf, and behind some pillows. Zoe has started looking for presents AT ALL TIMES, assuming that if she's a good girl, the Hanukkah Fairy may come multiple times per day.
• On the first night, the Hanukkah Fairy brought Zoe a super-cool gift, hand-picked by none other than my dear husband. It was (wait for it!!)...a Lego Star Wars R2D2 watch!!! (You know you want one.) Charles picked this out because a) Zoe loves R2D2 and b) Zoe loves to swipe Charles' watches and wear them. She opened the watch, looked at it for a moment, and then said, "But I just don't understand why the Hanukkah Fairy didn't bring me shoes!"
• On the second night, the Hanukkah Fairy brought Zoe a pair of shoes! To be fair, she'd picked them out at Target recently, and had seen them purchased, but it had been a while ago, and she hadn't seen them since. I thought she'd be thrilled. Yeah, not so much. "But I don't like those shoes, Mommy!" It was not so worthwhile to explain that she'd picked them out, but Night 2 was another Epic Gift Fail.
• On Night 3, I was determined to be more successful. I had a pink winter hat with pig ears and a pig nose and it was the CUTEST THING EVER and I was sure she'd love it. And she did...for three minutes. It was a step in the right direction.
• On the fourth night, we went to a Hanukkah Party at my mother's house and we had such a great time! Mom made fried foods (latkes and fried flounder - well, Dad made that part), and Zoe ate...mac & cheese. Sigh.

So, these are just some funny gift-based memories. We are actually working very hard to instill traditions in Zoe, more than just gifts. We've been lighting the candles every night, and talking about the miracle of Hanukkah, and spinning the dreidel. We've also been making sure to talk about the importance of giving, particularly in this holiday season.

But that doesn't stop her from being SO EXCITED every night that the Hanukkah Fairy may just come back a second time and hide yet another gift at which she can turn up her nose.

She's just lucky it's a cute little nose...

My thoughts on the past week

It’s been an interesting week in the news, hasn’t it?

First North Korea bombed South Korea and South Korea responded in kind, indicating an escalation of tensions that seemed to foreshadow another major conflict.

And then it sort of...fizzled. Nothing much has been done or said in the past couple days.

And then WikiLeaks dumped onto its web site tons of classified communication between American diplomats all over the world, airing so-called dirty laundry that threatened to break apart years of careful diplomacy. Think about it...would you want your coworker to know all the terrible things you’ve said about her to your cube-mate when her back is turned?

I like to think I’m a nice person who doesn’t do that kind of stuff, but let’s face it. We all do it. And I, for one, would rather maintain that semi-professional, good-natured relationship with ALL my coworkers, regardless of my opinions on their clothes or work ethics.

In this country, many leaders of the Republican persuasion were up in arms as soon as news of the leak came out, blasting the Democrats for letting this happen, claiming treason, etc. It almost felt like they were expecting this to turn into a big Freedom of Speech/Civil Rights debate, during which the Democrats (those devils!!) would stand up for WikiLeaks and all the damage that site has done on the basis of Bill of Rights principles.

And then that...didn’t happen. Turns out, the Democrats are just as upset by WikiLeaks as the Republicans, and with good reason. And here’s why.

In the first place, we need to be clear on one thing. The acts by WikiLeaks (as lead by Julian Assange) are no more treason than was the bombing of South Korea by North Korea because Assange is not a United States citizen, and the site itself is hosted all over the world (mainly in Iceland). Treason is defined as an act committed against one’s own state or country, so treason rules do not apply here.

That said, the airing of all these diplomatic secrets was a heinous act of espionage committed by a self-proclaimed anarchist who has gone on the record stating that he wants to “bring down many administrations that rely on concealing reality - including the US administration.” (New Yorker's Profile of Julian Assange) The man is out to do some damage.

And it seems that, since everyone agrees that this was a terrible thing to do, they seem to be, if not turning a blind eye, at least taking everything they read with a giant grain of salt. After reading descriptions of the French President, Nicolas Sarcozy, that paint him as hyperactive and surrounding himself with yes-men, the French Foreign Minister simply called the posting of the documents “totally irresponsible.”

My guess regarding this downplayed international response is that it's everyone in the highest offices of government knows that, if their countries’ most secret communications were laid out for public consumption, it would come to light that THEY ALL SAY THE SAME THINGS.

Come ON, do you think other country’s top diplomats weren’t mocking GW, and don’t currently have choice comments about President Obama? You know it happens.

Still, this whole debacle has the feel of a spy novel to me. Tuesday, it was announced that Interpol has placed Assange on its Most Wanted list due to...wait for it...sex crimes! What? You can’t convince me that this isn’t trumped up just to get this dude into custody and get him off our streets and computers.

And while I agree with that sentiment wholeheartedly, I just hope it’s done legally and reasonably so he doesn’t wind up back out on the streets after a slap on the wrists. I think some major espionage crimes have been committed here...they should not go unpunished.

Two-year-old Phraseology

This past weekend, Charles, Zoe and I celebrated Thanksgiving with Charles' sister and her family in semi-rural North Carolina. It was great to get up into some hilly country (Charleston is very, very flat) and to spend time with a much-loved chunk of our family.

That said, any time you travel with a two-year-old, you can be fairly certain funny things will happen, and since Zoe is my child, most of the funnies occur when Zoe opens her mouth.

In the first place, on the evening of Thanksgiving as we all sat and (tried to) eat a peaceful dinner, Zoe was over-tired and rather wired. She decided that the appropriate thing to do would be to count the diners. So for the next twenty minutes, we each got jabbed in the head by a small but surprisingly pointy finger as she counted (always starting with herself)...One...Two...Fwee...Foa...Five...Six...Seven...And then our brother-in-law started messing with her.

"But I'm twelve."

"No, you're Six."

"No, I'm twelve."

"No! Six!"

This went on for quite some time, during which we all CONTINUED to get poked and prodded by a counting Zoe.

The next day, my sister-in-law somehow convinced me that shopping at Target on Black Friday would clearly be fun, so we took Zoe (who loves Target) along for the ride. Zoe knows that we're in the market (or maybe Santa is...) for a bicycle helmet as she has recently shown a big interest in Charles' old skateboard, so she helped me look for the "helmet aisle."

As we rounded the corner into the aforementioned aisle, Zoe literally gasped.

"Oh my God, there's the helmet aisle!!!"

Now, I am a Jersey girl who is somehow also part Valley girl in my speech patterns, and I have certainly been known to pepper all my conversations with the occasional (frequent) "Oh my God." I've never really given it too much thought, actually.

But that particular phrase, coming out of Zoe's mouth, makes my husband CRAZY, so I know I'm supposed to correct it. So, choking back laughter, I said, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

She looked at me, a picture of innocence, and said, "I said, there's the helmet aisle!"

Finally, we took Zoe to her first ever college football game (UNC/Duke - Go 'Heels!!) on the amazing Duke University campus. The stadium is pretty tight quarters, and over the years, my outspoken sister-in-law has gotten to know her neighbors on one side, who happen to have two grown daughters.

One of the men absolutely ate Zoe up (have I mentioned how darn cute she is?), and at one point asked her what her name was.

Zoe answered, "I'm Zoe, and this is Aunt Mary, and that's Uncle Keith (Keef), and that's Morgan and Kayla and Mommy and Daddy."

Then she stopped, looked around her, and gestured to the crowd.

"But I don't know who all those people are."

So it was a great weekend, we laughed a lot, and I forgot to take even a single picture.

So it goes. We've still got the memories.

***********************

And, coming soon to a blog near you...I need to do a lot of reading first, but I want to work through my thoughts on the launch of WikiLeaks...because I'm afraid that for the first time I might be close to sharing an opinion with Sarah Palin...so I need to work on that opinion to make sure it's right....wish me luck!

An evening of thanks

Life is about to get really hectic for a few days as Charles, Zoe and I head up to my sister-in-law's house in North Carolina. It should be a great trip, and it includes a trip to Durham to watch the UNC/Duke rivalry football game (go 'Heels!!), so I'm really excited.

But I don't know how much time it will leave for writing.

So I thought I'd do my Thanksgiving post tonight, while Charles is already upstairs sleeping and I have a few quiet minutes before I follow him to bed.

Rather than just listing those things for which I am thankful (of which there are probably thousands, I kid you not...from the amazingly good health of my daughter to the deliciousness of pizza), I thought I'd thank a few key people in my life for all the things they've done over the years.

First off, to my parents, Sassy and Pops or Mom and Dad or Wendy and Andy, thanks first for life. I don't know that I've ever said that.

Dad, thanks for instilling in me a love of both horror movies and musicals, two things that have shaped my imagination over the years. Thanks for teaching me that family is always more important than career, a lesson I have employed in my own life. And thanks for always being willing to come pick me up when I need a rescue (i.e. lost my car key in my own house!!).

Mom, thanks for every time you've ever babysat - it's appreciated. Thanks for my personality - I know much of it is yours as well. Thanks for brisket and matzoh ball soup and brownies and that potato soup this past weekend. YUM. And thanks for sharing your love of writing with me, because without that I'd be a little lost I think.

And my brothers...Daniel and Jonathan. I honestly think a girl could not possibly have two better brothers, so to each of you, thanks for that.

Daniel, thank you for being smart and creative and funny and for always showing me how cool it is to be all of those things. Thanks for being excited about the fact that I want to come to London to visit you in February. It still amazes me that you like to hang out with your annoying little sister.

Jon, thanks for always being willing to listen to me vent. Thanks for reminding me this summer that it's ok to step out of my comfort zone every now and again, and thanks for throwing a KICK ASS wedding party. We had a great time. And thanks for sharing running with me now - I really love that.

To your spouses, Zeke and Michelle - thanks for being excellent in-laws. I'm happy to consider you a brother and sister, and I'm SO happy you make my brothers so happy.

To my *other* in-law, my sister-in-law Mary, thanks for being one of my best friends, in addition to being such a great sister to Charles. I am so excited that we'll be sharing this holiday this year. Thanks for loving red wine and for your understanding of all things girl-related - you are my girl-touchstone. And thanks for having a fun husband, too, because we LOVE spending time with both of you.

To my mother-in-law, Harriet, thanks for always having a recipe handy when I need it (I made the mac&cheese this week and apparently I finally did it right!!). Thanks for everything you do for us and for Zoe and for loving all three of us. Thank you for all that you do for your extended family, too - you are a great example to follow.

To Zoe, even though you can't read, thanks for being such a super cool kid, and for doing random things like kissing my friends goodnight when they're visiting, and for being an awesome travel-companion this year. Thanks for singing "Hey Jude" and the ABCs when I ask, and thanks for trying to remember to say "Please" and "Thank you" without needing to be prompted. Thanks for loving fruit as much as I do and for giving me an excuse to always keep it in the house. Thanks for being so darn lovable. Like, every single day. Even on the rough days.

And finally, to my husband, thank you, thank you, thank you for being an amazing husband and a fantastic dad, and thank you for all that you do for me EVERY STINKIN' DAY. Sometimes I can't believe all you do around the house and how you mostly always stay cheerful about life. Thank you for your silly songs and your Curious George stories and your tendency to send me instant message pictures of sheep. Thank you for every hug and kiss you've given me.

To all of you, I love you and I'm thankful for you each and every day.

Thanksgiving Tips

In the spirit of the holidays upon us, I thought I'd share some fun stuff with you.

First off, check out this amazing blog I discovered a few weeks ago. Discovered is the wrong word because she has thousands and thousands of followers and it's certainly not like I discovered her, but you know what I mean. She is giving away some really cool stuff for the next twelve days. Stark Raving Mad Mommy. Plus, I just really love the name of her blog. If you are a mom, then many days you will feel like you are stark raving mad. Or at least I do.

Second, if you need a really fast, easy and delicious side for Thanksgiving then I want to share with you a recipe that I stole from my bestie Nicole about five years ago (Thank You, Nicole!) This recipe doesn't have a name but trust me, they are yummy. Get a pack of crescent role dough, a package of sweet potatoes (they already cooked and mashed kind), a bag of pecans, and a little cinnamon. Lay out the crescent role triangles, put a dollop of sweet potato in the middle, lay a few pecans on top of the sweet potatoes, then roll the crescent roll up around the filling. Sprinkle cinnamon on top. Bake. Delicious.

Third, if you haven't tried a peppermint mocha latte from Starbucks or peppermint chocolate chip milkshake from Chic-fil-A, then you MUST go out and do so. They are WONDERFUL. Let me repeat, WONDERFUL. Not that anything really compares but I found a way to half recreate the peppermint mocha latte at home in a really cheap and easy way. Dunkin' Donuts has a mocha mint coffee that you can buy from the grocery store. Get some. Then add the peppermint mocha creamer from Nestle (also in the grocery store). It's pretty darn tasty.

Ok, that's it. Happy Thanksgiving!

On half-birthdays, babies and Maria Mushroom...

I was waiting to get some soup in the cafeteria at work the other day when I noticed Charles' boss standing in front of me.

We said hi, and then she gave me a funny look.

"How was Zoe's half-birthday?" she said.

And then, "By the way, what is a half-birthday and how do I get one?"

I cracked up.

Because...

Last Friday was Zoe's half-birthday (exactly six months after her normal birthday). We started celebrating her half-birthdays when she turned six months old, and we felt like celebrating the fact that we'd kept this tiny human being alive for a FULL SIX MONTHS. Also because I wanted some cake.

So we invited Charles' mom and my parents over for a little fiesta and we celebrated our little girl.

Since Zoe is (and probably always will be, barring adoption) an only child, and since real birthdays are few and far between, we've kept up the tradition, embracing any chance to once again celebrate our little girl.

On real birthdays, we do big parties, with big cakes, and we always measure Zoe on the height-wall. On half-birthdays, we do little family parties, cupcakes, and another measurement. Our wall is starting to look like yard-stick.

Since her half-birthday fell on a Friday this year, and since I don't work on Fridays, I decided that she and I would have a lunchtime picnic at a local park as a jumping-off point for the celebration. I was thrilled when Charles decided to take a half-vacation day from work to join in the fun. We built it up for Zoe all week and by Friday, she was Ready For Her Half-Birthday (Dammit!!).

Here are two highlights from our picnic at the park and some of the events that followed:

Zoe was having a great time at the park, but was struggling to make friends with another little girl who was maybe a little older than she. (This was because the little girl seemed to speak only Russian, and because she was eating lunch while Zoe was trying to play.) Undeterred, Zoe got louder and more rambunctious in her solo-play, and she started shouting something over and over. "Maria...Mushroom...Maria...Mushroom..."

Um...what? No matter how many times we asked her to repeat herself, all we heard was "Maria...Mushroom...Maria...Mushroom...".

Yeah, we had no idea what a Maria Mushroom is...

So we started speculating. Was Ms. Mushroom a character in a book they read at school? In a song? I was almost tempted to email Zoe's teachers to find out what was up.

And still, she continued, long after we'd come home, and even while we were out to dinner later that night.

"Maria...Mushroom...Maria...Mushroom..."

Finally, the following day, as Zoe was watching her current Favorite Episode Ever of Dora the Explorer (Rojo the Firetruck from Season 2, in case you wondered), we figured it out.

Several times through the episode, Dora asks her viewers to choose between two items. One is always yellow, the other is always blue.

And Dora is speaking in Spanish when naming the colors, of course.

"Amarillo...Azul...Amarillo...Azul..."

Oooohhhhh...."Maria...Mushroom..."

Mystery solved.

But there's one mystery that is still ongoing, leftover from Zoe's half-birthday. I like to call this one, "And WHY can't your new baby have a name, Zoe?"

You see, Zoe has very recently started showing interest in all things doll-like. We'd been sticking to stuffed animals (I can't help it...dolls creep me out!!), but when Zoe's teacher sent me a picture of her playing with a baby doll, I got it in my head that she needed one of her own at home.

We decided that a half-birthday was a perfect reason to buy Zoe her first official baby doll (for the record, she did already have a Cabbage Patch Kid, but they don't creep me out, so I don't count them in the baby doll category).

After dinner that evening, we ran into Target, where Zoe, Charles and I hemmed and hawed while trying to find the perfect baby doll. Zoe liked the ones that moved and talked and did other terrifying things, while I liked the simple bald-headed infant ones. Charles finally found the winner - a little girl baby with blonde hair and hippie-ish clothes.

Zoe has since taken this baby EVERYWHERE with her, in various stages of undress, of course (today, for example, she spent the day in Zoe's cubby at school wearing nothing but one shoe). She has gone to my parents house, to the grocery store. She sits in the car (in her stroller, no less) every day going to and from school.

But no matter how much Zoe appears to love this baby, she REFUSES to give her a name. We've tried suggesting all kinds of names, with no success. Emmy, Jessie, Madeline, Amy, Gabby, Wendy, Annie...should I go on? Charles likes weirder names, but Zoe vetoes every single one.

Want to know why? All you have to do is ask her.

"Zoe, what's your baby's name?

"She doesn't have a name."

"But why doesn't she have one?"

"Because she doesn't."

"Zoe, will she ever get a name?"

"Not until October comes."

Yep. Not until October comes. So we will have this nameless, vaguely creepy doll for ELEVEN MONTHS before she will at least gain an identity and therefore cease to be namelessly-creepy.

Sigh.

Not until October comes.

For your entertainment...

I ventured into my parents' attic today to look for an old Playbill (I am convinced I saw Lea Michelle in Les Mis years ago, and I wanted to find the proof). I didn't find what I was looking for, but I found some things that are even better, including senior prom pics in which I was pretending to be a rock star.

But my favorite find of the night, full text posted here for your reading pleasure (!!) was the first book I ever created. I wrote and illustrated it while in the second grade and part of Eisenhower Elementary School's Talented and Gifted program. While I think you'll agree it shows neither talent nor gift, it's pretty funny.

I believe the assignment was to create a new animal that was a composite of two or more other animals...I merged a Brontosaurus, my favorite dinosaur (yes, I had a favorite dinosaur), with a dog, my favorite animal. My illustrations of this creature are a passable dinosaur, but are colored brown, I guess to incorporate the dog?

Anyway, here's the complete, unedited text of my first ever (un)published book.

**************************

"Dinodog"

written and Illustrated by Leah Soltis

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO MY FAMILY

Once there was a Newnimal named Dinodog. A Newnimal is two or three animals mixed together. Dinodog is a boy and he is seven years old. He is also five feet tall.

One day Dinodog was walking in the field when a bad Newnimal leaped at him!

"I'm not scared of you," said Dinodog.

"Sure," said the bad Newnimal.

"Oh, why are you so mean?" asked Dinodog.

"Because my dad was mean," said the bad Newnimal.

"Well, it's never too late to change. Give it a try and be nice," said Dinodog.

"O.K. I'll be nice," said the bad Newnimal.

They both walked off as friends!

********************

So...here are my thoughts.

1. It's dialog heavy. The story on which I am currently working is totally dialog heavy. Some things don't change (but maybe should?).

2. I find it funny that I didn't give the bad Newnimal a name...I've always struggled with naming characters. I struggled with naming Zoe. More things don't change.

3. I love that my dedication is in ALL CAPS. I have no idea why I did that.

4. The bad Newnimal is black and sort of nebulous...in one drawing he seems to have a curly ear. Maybe an early idea for a shape-shifter creature? To be explored in future stories perhaps?

5. He's bad because his dad was bad? I am very rarely (if ever) angry with my father, so I wonder what the heck he had done to offend me that I made the bad guy blame his dad...hmm....to be explored in future therapy sessions perhaps...

Hope you enjoyed!