The Little Jobber

Apparently, all I needed to do was say how I didn’t take any pics at the concert and wham! They showed up in my email in-box. Thanks, Allison!

Here they are, the little concert-goers:

And Conal showing lots of interest in Maeve’s sparkly, pink shoes:

Monday night. Aimee Mann in Washington Park, playing for free.

We met up with Allison, Matt and Maeve, had some dinner and drinks, waited out the rain shower, finally got to enjoy the music, and laughed all the while as Conal and Maeve squealed, clapped, danced and shouted through their first concert.

I have no pics, but you can check out the Save Me video, if you’d like:

* Sorta. We did bring Conal to Barbara’s party last July, where Darren’s band played.

Today, as I was getting ready to head out for dinner at a friend’s house, I decided that I wanted to wear earrings. Namely, my hoops, which I wear pretty much all the time. I went to the tray on my dresser where I usually put my earrings, but they weren’t there. I looked all around the dresser, picking up my charm bracelet and shaking it in case the earrings had somehow gotten attached to it.

I went in to the bathroom and looked around the vanity. No earrings.

Oh, well, I thought. I would go with naked ears.

Only, I didn’t. At one point during the evening, I had an itch on my ear and I scratched it and noticed that, huh, I was wearing my earrings.

Yeah…the whole time that I was looking for the earrings, they were IN MY EARS.

The Dark Knight has been floating around the house ever since he burst on the scene via the oversized box of Cheerios.

I occasionally find him lodged under the bathroom door:

Or lounging about on the toilet:

He seems to take frequent breaks from his busy crime-fighting schedule to pose by the wicker basket:

And chill out on the vents:

Once, I even found him perched precariously on the slide:

However, there have been times when he’s shown up on the counter, a clear indication that someone is helping him get from place to place:

He’s active, that Dark Knight.

I turn my back for five minutes and Destructo takes over:

We’re back to normal now, thanks to Destructo having recreated himself in the form of Tired Boy, thus giving The Mom a chance to pick up while he naps.

some new photos? It’s been a long time, I know.

The Little Jobber is walking around, carefree and happy. Thank goodness. He’s too young to understand that Mo died and, really, that is for the best. I wouldn’t want him to have to carry this kind of sadness right now.

Conal (3 weeks old) and Mo, June 2007.

Mo is gone.

I am heartbroken.

Not only was I watching 30 Best and Worst Beach Bodies on E!*, but when the Sarah McLaughlin ASPCA commercial came on, I cried. Like, real tears. Two tissue tears. Pathetic, considering I’m a grown woman with a kid. But . . .

We adopted Mo from the ASPCA in 1999. He’s been up and down this year with the whole kidney thing. Pretty down, lately. So, yeah, the commercial got me.

Gah!

I’m going to have years of this, huh?

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*If you were wondering, Owen is away — he doesn’t normally go for those E! specials.