Sorry about not posting recently. Lots of things to report.

1. Lucy survived her first round of shots. Her mom, however, almost passed out in the waiting room. It was five vaccines, three needles. She turned beet red and howled and looked incredibly sad (and betrayed, too, although that was probably just me projecting that the look on her face said "Avenge me!" instead of just "Ow!") So after three minutes of heart-rending sobs, she conked out in her stroller. I think it took me about an hour before I stopped shaking. Eek.

2. Lucy laughed! Twice! So the good news is, it's actual laughter, and not a fluke. The bad news -- both laughs were occasioned by poop jokes.
The first one came after a six-wipe diaper change -- the kind that occasions six wipes, a new diaper, a new outfit, a new pad for the changing table....you get the picture. I was holding her in my arms (once I'd changed my shirt), and discussing her future.
"Perhaps you will be a performance artist," I said. "Performance artist" got a big smile, but I didn't think much of it, because she smiles when her father says the words "Lincoln Financial Field" to her, too.
"Your medium," I continued, "will be POOP!"
And then I started laughing, and she looked up at me and did this very happy "Hah hah hah!"
It was adorable.
Then, the next day, I was singing her the Fresh Diaper song. You can sing it, too! It is sung to the tune of "Can't Touch This" by MC Hammer, and it goes a little something like this:

Doo doo do do, do do (Fresh diaper)
Doo doo do do, do do (Fresh diaper!)
Doo doo do do, do do (Fresh diaper)
Doo doo do do, do do (Fresh diaper!)

She started laughing again, and it was so cute. Now I just have to get her to laugh at some non-toilet humor, and it's all good.


3. ABC World News Tonight is doing a story about the burgeoning phenomenon of the girlie book (I refuse to call them "chick lit." I just can't say those words any more), and they came and filmed my reading in Philadelphia last night. And there were lots and lots of people there, which was great. I figured, August, 6 p.m., Tuesday night, what if nobody shows up, and I sent off frantic emails to some friends begging them to come just so I wouldn't look like a complete loser.
Well. My friends came, and so did more than a hundred other readers. It was standing room only, which was great, except that between the crowds and the humidity and the lights the crew set up, I think I was sweating like Albert Brooks in "Broadcast News." But it was an amazing night -- everyone was so enthusiastic, and asked great questions (including one about my craft, which let me make fun of James Lipton, which always cheers me up, and one about what TV shows I like, which cheers me up even more).

Adam and Lucy Jane were in attendance, and Lucy did her impersonation of an angel baby -- slept the whole time, or sat quietly, looking around. The ABC people are coming back Saturday to film me at home with Lucy. Which is great except it means that not only do I have to get myself looking presentable, and figure out which outfit I can safely put Lucy in without offending an individual relative or an entire side of the family ("Why didn't she wear the dress WE sent her?"), I have to declutter my house. My house isn't messy, it's just that things tend to wind up in piles (books, newspapers, burp cloths). Then they want to film me actually writing, which I'm not even sure I remember how to do. We shall see. The piece is supposed to air August 16, a week from Saturday, but I'll post an update if that changes.

4. My new-mom etiquette question: what do you do if someone sends you a decorative item that is A., clearly not inexpensive; B., unreasonably ugly, and C. monogrammed or otherwise embossed with your child's name? If it was just A and B I'd donate it to the Salvation Army, or drop it off at the children's hospital, but because the thing has La Lu's name on it, I don't think that they'd be interested. Maybe I'll send it to Wendy Wasserstein's kid.

Jen