I bet Scientologist meetings have snacks, too.

Abby, doing what she does best: banging two objects together repeatedly.

Monday = ECFE day. Early Childhood and Family Education. I should have clarified what ECFE stands for the last time I blogged about it, but I hear about ECFE from so many people, I consider it common knowledge. This thinking was proven wrong when I used the acronym while talking to my day care provider, and she cut me short and asked me, "What's ECFE?" Am I wrong to find it odd that a day care worker would have never heard of a program that I'd been aware of years before I ever had kids?

While there (ECFE. not daycare) we did the normal playing and socializing for the first hour. This goes down in a rumpus room (or is it rompus room? Or romper room?) with lots of toys that run the spectrum from "too dull to even chew on" to "so awesome I can't put it down".

Towards the end of that hour, everyone gathers in a circle to softly sing songs before splitting up. Somewhere during the second verse of "The More We Get Together", I started to get a very distinct cult vibe. It all seemed to fit: everyone was smiling, the kids were entranced, they send us home with pamphlets, the juice was pre-poured in little tiny dixie cups, everyone was in their socks. Okay, I was actually the only one in my socks, but only because I felt like ditching the shoes for a bit.

As we sat there singing our songs, I looked down at Lily and she was quite enthralled with what was going on. I realized then that I could transplant her into a similar situation where she could be brainwashed (Scientology center, fundamentalist Mormon church, Apple store, etc.), and she wouldn't miss a beat. There was a glaze to her eyes that belied a certain kind of devotion. This is likely the same response I'll have when she's glued to whatever Saturday morning cartoon I cannot pry her from.

I wonder if Katie Holmes' dad felt like this at some point.

The adult portion of the night did not do much to convince me that I will get much out of ECFE, at least not this class. It would all just go so much better at a bar, or a hockey game, or at the very least somewhere that didn't have air conditioning on with the outside temp at 50. As it is, there's a measure of stuffiness to it that can't seem to be dispelled by anyone; like I mentioned earlier, it has all the makings of an AA meeting.

For the record, I did come away with one revelation from the night, so maybe it's not all a waste. Somewhere in the discussion our intrepid instructor mentioned possible books on parenting that might shed light on the subject we were talking about. Books on parenting. I have nothing against this concept, but it suddenly became clear to me (my life kinda flashed before my eyes right there in class) that I will probably not ever read a book on parenting. There isn't time enough in my life to read books not on parenting. This is the same knee-jerk response I get when I see an issue of Parenting magazine: "Oh, I should read that, and yet I'm not." Is there something wrong with that? Should I want to read about parenting? These feelings are likely tainted by the utopia that is our current situation. It may come to pass that, in just a couple years, I will own a library full of parental advice literature.

Kids were good today. As I followed Jen home tonight, I witnessed her kinda "run" a stop sign (it wasn't her fault, and was warranted). Still, I said to the girls, "Mommy just ran a stop sign. Mommy broke the law!" and Lily promptly yelled, "Wwooooowwwww!" Crap like that just can't be beat.

Day thirty six.

Today's pictures are reruns from yesterday, fyi.

Abby's hair looked very red all day.

This was one of the funnier moments of the day. Lily crawled up to Abby and started yelling at her. I didn't manage to get a good shot of it, but Abby opened her mouth equally as wide and for a second they kind of sparred, mouths agape, like two hyenas over a dead wildebeast. Hilarious. Sad that we're raising dogs, but certainly funny.

The Lilster.