My preschooler still sucks her thumb with unbridled passion. She has sucked her thumb since birth, and always combines the thumbsuck with an ear folding/pulling technique. Could be her ear, could be your ear, she doesn't discriminate. In fact, I often find her curled up against her brother or sister on the couch, glommed onto their earlobe while watching TV. While her dentist isn't all that concerned with her habit, I'd like to see her start looking for another soothing technique before she starts kindergarten. Yesterday, I said as much to her while I towelled her dry from a bath.

"Honey, you really should stop sucking your thumb. It makes your teeth crooked."

She thought about this, and responded cheerfully. "But I love to suck my thumb!"

"Ah, yes. Well, there's that. But you also like to pull ears. Maybe you could still pull ears, and stop sucking your thumb."

She thought for a moment, extending her two thumbs in front of her and scowling at them. She looked up, cheeks dimpling as her eyes met mine in the mirror. "Or maybe, I could suck ears and pull thumbs!"

All three kids were off school today, in honor of Veteran's Day. We stayed in our pajamas until noon, and watched a shameful amount of SpongeBob Squarepants. I chased the kids outside frequently, only to storm outside five minutes later to break up the latest squabble. My seven-year-old decided that she wanted to rollerskate on the sidewalk, so I accompanied her out to the driveway. She had dressed herself in bubblegum pink tights, a zebra print dress, and had put on a mini-tiara and thrown a sky blue scarf around her neck. After a few strides up and down the sidewalk, she turned to me with a panicked look.

"Mom! I forgot my baton!"

Of course she did.

So I ran inside and retrieved her clear plastic, glitter filled baton. She faux-twirled it as she skated up and down the walk for ten minutes. As suddenly as she proposed this little adventure, she lost interest, and with a final flourish, she indicated that we might return to the house.

At the toy store yesterday, I bought myself a viking helmet. It is too small for me, and looks ridiculous perched on my giant melon. Seriously, though. $2.99!

I am not sure why it called out to me. One minute, I'm checking out princess hats and fairy wands for one of my kids' friend's birthday, and the next minute I'm hot-footing it up to the register, clutching this plastic beanie with dual horns to my chest, heart beating wildly. It has been sitting on the bench in our entry way all day, and my eyes keep lighting on it. I keep choking back the joyful "Ha!" that rises in my throat as I imagine striding through my day, wearing such a ridiculously glorious hat.

I think we all should be thankful they didn't sell valkyrie breastplates.