X-mass birthday

By 7:45 the kids were wrapping Manuel’s birthday present and Rebecca had begun planning to make a birthday cake. She was pretty sure that this year she could do the whole thing by herself and has chosen a flourless chocolate cake from her new Italian cookbook. (As it turned out she needed a bit of assistance) This b-day takes care of the inevitable question of what to do with your Jewish kids on Christmas morning. As my friend Moira’s four year old said to Manuel “you’re the same age as Jesus”

Thanks to the birthday boy and my Mother I had a personal day yesterday. I slept until 9:30 which may be the latest I’ve slept in years. Manuel took the kids to the zoo in the afternoon without me. This makes an excellent Daddy/kids activity. I hate the zoo and going there on a cold day is my idea of family hell. For one thing since the zoo’s all went politically correct and tried to make things better for the animals the wildlife has become essentially invisible to the visually impaired. Not to mention that I don’t do well in the cold—my fingers turn blue etc…. I got to go to the gym and run really fast on the treadmill which I think can only be good for the collective—I admit it I’m addicted to running and the blizzard has cramped my style. And I’m a sucker for nice gyms with saunas and shower products. About the running vice; as it turn out a profession that requires hours on your butt in front of the computer requires some intervention for the hyperactive.

Eli slept with the big kids in a big boy bed. At home he should probably stay in his crib until her turns ten or so. He feels he needs to get up every so often to gather stuff such as a gun “just in case” Apparently grownups sleep with guns by their beds. (I’m not sure what grownups he’s cavorting with). He’s now running around with a bicycle helmet on using a cane as a weapon and making shooting noises. Jonathan looks dapper in pink tie-dyed pants and a pastel tie-died shirt and Rebecca is carefully making pictures of pandas and Shakespeare.

Hopefully I can claim some of those hours today to write the paper that was due last week. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about disability studies for the last two weeks to produce this now embarrassingly late document. It should give me a chance to address Cecilia Bartoli’s problematic album that features giant pictures of scissors and knives. My personal day yesterday involved a little time on goggle books exploring the new “cultural history of the penis” and a history of castration. The birthday boy has already cautioned me to be extremely careful. The last time I did some frantic internet research I infected my computer with a virus that took him three hours to exterminate and he already said he’s not doing it today.