Life is a Cabaret, Old Chum . .

So is life a Cabaret? What exactly does that mean? Is life a nasty little club in WWII era Germany? Ja? Don't zink so!

So I met some of the cast of Cabaret tonight. One great dancer, some adequate ones, some s0-so. It's all good, the director likes my choreography. More importantly, we had fun in rehearsal tonight. I kind of like this "walk on the wild side" into musical theatre. It's a genre I love but have not ventured into before.

I'm still doing prep work for our venture into toilet learning. I'm nervous as hell about it, I still don't really know what I'm doing, but I guess that's been true all of my parenthood and Zachary's done fine so far. Things will get interesting around here really quick, I'm sure.

Today I got Zachary a new placemat with the planets on it. He thinks it's a toy and walked around clutching it all afternoon. To get him outside I had to promise him we'd draw the solar system in chalk. Here he is enjoying the "pwanets."

That's Mars he's standing on, and Jupiter in front of him. We had such a fun afternoon playing outside, he didn't even care when I had to go to yoga. He stopped for a moment, gave me a perfunctory kiss, and resumed his planet "surfing." Karen had to drag him in kicking and screaming for dinner.