All aboard.

Some of my readers (OK, one of them) have been complaining about my lack of blog posting lately. Sorry. I haven't had much to report except for this:

My nice Pottery Barn coffee table has suddenly morphed into a train table.

Where there once were magazines and coasters, there is now a figure-eight track, complete with a bridge, a water tower and a train station with clanging bell. Oh, and several (hopefully) lead-free train cars. (Don't get me started on the whole recall disaster. I'm still recovering from having to throw out my son's lead-tainted vinyl bibs.)

My son is all about trains right now. He can play with trains for hours, meticulously moving them around and around the track. I'm not kidding. I didn't think a toddler could be so focused.

The only problem is that he falls apart when the train cars derail, as they inevitably do, because he insists on linking them altogether in a mile-long caravan. "Oh NO," he wails, when the cars jump the tracks.

"It happens," my husband tells him, but I don't think you can expect a not-quite-two-year-old to achieve such a Zen state of mind. Not when it comes to trains.