"Last night my husband, Jack, and I went to a last-minute "Let's Eat Lasagne and Watch the Last Episode of the Sopranos" party at which our son, Jackson, was the only little kid. I'm not sure where my head was during the brief invitation-acceptance phase of this party, except that I must have thought something like, "He's almost six! He'll entertain himself!" This is an unfortunate tic I have that started the day after Jackson was born and I kind of just assumed that if he was hungry he'd go to the kitchen and make himself a sandwich. Yeah, so kids? They're more time-consuming than I'd originally thought . . ."

If you want, you can read the rest over at Babble.

I feel like my posts are a little stiff over there. Like, I have to explain everything and make a good impression or something, I don't know. Either it will work or it won't, but for now it's a good place to stash all the parenting stuff that I've been sparing you.

For the record, I thought the last Sopranos episode was a let-down. I was hoping for some big explosion of change, like Furio would come in and shoot Tony in the neck and whisk Carmela back to Italy? I guess until I get my own show on HBO I'll just have to suck it up and watch the last season on DVD, I missed a whole bunch of TV death while I was in Denver.