I want a steam mop. So very badly. Oh, steam mop. I want you. Like the deserts miss the rain. Or something like that.
And I certainly wouldn't mind a nice tea kettle too.
But other than that, seriously, I'm all good.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
A Woman of Action vs. A Woman of Stuff
It's been a big year for our little family.
We bought a house. We bought stuff to fill the house. We bought convenient, easy stuff to fill our bellies while we were busy moving the things we had bought for the house around the house. *head spins, stomach churns*
Long story short, this has left us fat, and with lots of bills.
We had guests in town for Thanksgiving, and in honor of their pending arrival we decided to take the plunge and finally buy one more mattress set, which would bring us up to such a total that we would have a bed in each bedroom, plus a futon downstairs, making lots of comfy space for our guests, current and future, to sleep. (or sex it up. but that's just a joke. do not, under any circumstances, come to our house just to sex it up. please) This is a very satisfying new development, and a pleasant coming-of-age for two formerly empty and nearly-empty bedrooms upstairs.
Now, for the first time in my short-tenure as a homeowner, I can look around and be confident in the knowledge that we DO NOT NEED ANYTHING. Sure, there may be a few wants here and there... but nothing is needed in the way that I needed that Expedit from Ikea to make the living room complete, or how we needed Shelly's loveseat to keep the recliners company in the study. Those needs are even silly, as I often like to reflect upon Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs to remind myself that I'm really pretty lucky to be so content and sated that I find myself on the top of the pyramid, judging ('cuz it says morality, right?) the folks struggling down below. There are televisions, networks, places to sit, tools with which to cook (and the food to be cooked as well)... all in all, relative comforts, and mostly well-utilized ones, abound.
So now that we're fully furnished with stuff, I have great great intentions of becoming a
WOMAN OF ACTION!
What, you ask, is a woman of action? Well. (as I pour myself a glass of wine, in order to tonight be a woman of slightly-less coordinated actions)
I wanna DO stuff. Remember that post where I was talking about how much sh*t I got done while the internet was inaccessible?
Oh, Dr. Seuss... you had it SO right, man! THE THINGS YOU CAN DO! Here I am waiting for bread I baked (action!!) to cool, while typing my blog (action!). One of the lesser things in life indeed, but it's better than trolling Facebook, right? Plus it's like I'm making my whole mental plan tangible... putting it out there for folks to, hopefully, hold me somewhat accountable to my intentions. (ACTION!!!)
Here's my list.
1. Lose weight. Every little bit counts but 10-15 pounds would be ideal, and 25 lbs would be bitchin'
2. Continue organizing the house - especially the craft room
3. START SEWING! (dependent on #2)
4. Potty train E-Unit
5. De-pacify the E-Unit... (another blog, another time)
6. Paint guest/office room and decorate in "City" theme as planned
7. Monetize blog in slightly-less hardcore manner as the fabulous FlutieMcD (of course, only after committing to posting at least 3x a week and having super-awesome content) and revel in the idea of being able to fancy myself a "writer" - if even *just* (hahaha) a "Mommy Blogger"
8. Get myself, the handsome husband, and my no-longer-flying-free 2+ year old out of the country for a vacation fit to remember forevah. Germany/France? Perhaps. Club Med in el Caribe? Maybe. Just plain Florida with family? Even that'd do. Most ideal? Western Ireland by car for 4 days, on the way to India. (And then a train trip to visit friends and the ruins at Hampi while in India. Oh Lordy, I can dream.)
9. Um... have more babies? Yeah, somewhere in there, that'd be pretty cool. So yeah, have more babies.
10. Raise aforementioned babies to be awesome little buggers like E-Unit
That's the problem with becoming a Woman of Action - seem's that there's inherently some tangible, shoppable portion of the dream. Me wanting to stop focusing on the material and get the proverbial shit done somehow translates to me wanting to TRAVEL. Me wanting more children means there's definitely a deadline to those much-imagined travels. I imagine my fitter, more-organized self unloading jauntily off of a plane with the hubba and toddler in tow, toward adventures and relaxation in new surrounds. Super-skinny self? Oh, that foxy BITCH! She would be unloading in Lima, Peru, holding the hubba's hand and breathlessly carrying the child in a backpack up the Inca trail, into the clouds of Macchu Pichu...
Shit. There is one more thing I need.
We bought a house. We bought stuff to fill the house. We bought convenient, easy stuff to fill our bellies while we were busy moving the things we had bought for the house around the house. *head spins, stomach churns*
Long story short, this has left us fat, and with lots of bills.
We had guests in town for Thanksgiving, and in honor of their pending arrival we decided to take the plunge and finally buy one more mattress set, which would bring us up to such a total that we would have a bed in each bedroom, plus a futon downstairs, making lots of comfy space for our guests, current and future, to sleep. (or sex it up. but that's just a joke. do not, under any circumstances, come to our house just to sex it up. please) This is a very satisfying new development, and a pleasant coming-of-age for two formerly empty and nearly-empty bedrooms upstairs.
Now, for the first time in my short-tenure as a homeowner, I can look around and be confident in the knowledge that we DO NOT NEED ANYTHING. Sure, there may be a few wants here and there... but nothing is needed in the way that I needed that Expedit from Ikea to make the living room complete, or how we needed Shelly's loveseat to keep the recliners company in the study. Those needs are even silly, as I often like to reflect upon Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs to remind myself that I'm really pretty lucky to be so content and sated that I find myself on the top of the pyramid, judging ('cuz it says morality, right?) the folks struggling down below. There are televisions, networks, places to sit, tools with which to cook (and the food to be cooked as well)... all in all, relative comforts, and mostly well-utilized ones, abound.
So now that we're fully furnished with stuff, I have great great intentions of becoming a
WOMAN OF ACTION!
What, you ask, is a woman of action? Well. (as I pour myself a glass of wine, in order to tonight be a woman of slightly-less coordinated actions)
I wanna DO stuff. Remember that post where I was talking about how much sh*t I got done while the internet was inaccessible?
Oh, Dr. Seuss... you had it SO right, man! THE THINGS YOU CAN DO! Here I am waiting for bread I baked (action!!) to cool, while typing my blog (action!). One of the lesser things in life indeed, but it's better than trolling Facebook, right? Plus it's like I'm making my whole mental plan tangible... putting it out there for folks to, hopefully, hold me somewhat accountable to my intentions. (ACTION!!!)
Here's my list.
1. Lose weight. Every little bit counts but 10-15 pounds would be ideal, and 25 lbs would be bitchin'
2. Continue organizing the house - especially the craft room
3. START SEWING! (dependent on #2)
4. Potty train E-Unit
5. De-pacify the E-Unit... (another blog, another time)
6. Paint guest/office room and decorate in "City" theme as planned
7. Monetize blog in slightly-less hardcore manner as the fabulous FlutieMcD (of course, only after committing to posting at least 3x a week and having super-awesome content) and revel in the idea of being able to fancy myself a "writer" - if even *just* (hahaha) a "Mommy Blogger"
8. Get myself, the handsome husband, and my no-longer-flying-free 2+ year old out of the country for a vacation fit to remember forevah. Germany/France? Perhaps. Club Med in el Caribe? Maybe. Just plain Florida with family? Even that'd do. Most ideal? Western Ireland by car for 4 days, on the way to India. (And then a train trip to visit friends and the ruins at Hampi while in India. Oh Lordy, I can dream.)
9. Um... have more babies? Yeah, somewhere in there, that'd be pretty cool. So yeah, have more babies.
10. Raise aforementioned babies to be awesome little buggers like E-Unit
That's the problem with becoming a Woman of Action - seem's that there's inherently some tangible, shoppable portion of the dream. Me wanting to stop focusing on the material and get the proverbial shit done somehow translates to me wanting to TRAVEL. Me wanting more children means there's definitely a deadline to those much-imagined travels. I imagine my fitter, more-organized self unloading jauntily off of a plane with the hubba and toddler in tow, toward adventures and relaxation in new surrounds. Super-skinny self? Oh, that foxy BITCH! She would be unloading in Lima, Peru, holding the hubba's hand and breathlessly carrying the child in a backpack up the Inca trail, into the clouds of Macchu Pichu...
Shit. There is one more thing I need.
E-Mac
Ahhh, my fellow Spampylandians, my apologies on there being no action here in Spampylandia.
While I've been virtually dormant, life has been literally bonkers for about the last three weeks. The E-Unit and I are the proud new weekday watchers of a jolly little gibblet named E-Mac (or at least we'll call her that, in order to differentiate her from our own E-Unit.) This new "acquisition" came about when E-Mac's mommy decided to go back to school. E-Mac didn't like this much and decided that daycare was for the birds, and spent most of two days trying to get this message across to the daycare provider. Unfortunately, this particular daycare provider did not speak E-Mac and instead, BOOTED HER OUT OF THE DAYCARE! (this is a rather sore subject, as often touched upon by my friend Aunt TT in her frank and heartwarming blog The Vampire, the Drama Queen, & Aunt TT)
As ri-damn-diculous as that whole "hey let's take a baby and reject her for doing what babies do" concept sounds, it provided us the opportunity to be backup daycare providers until that faroff day when E-Mac makes it to the top of a long waiting list for another daycare. 'Til then, we are quite tickled to have an extra little friend around, and I've been quite busy learning the ins and outs of this Unit's operating system.
Like...
How to make bottles (woah.... check it: I never used formula! had no clue how to use it. luckily instructions on the can are written in simple, zombie-suited language) and then best way to give kid said bottle.
And...
Getting new-to-me baby to nap in new-to-her house and crib, without sending new-to-her me into the loony bin with her apparently new-to-everyone screaming fits (this has tremendously improved, btw!)
Really she's a darling little peach who, when happy, is the most content child I've seen since the first E-Unit rolled off the line in Aught Eight. The adjustments have been more for myself in preparation for E-Mac's daily arrivals, and include going to bed at 9:30pm and waking up at just a smidge before 6am...
You can imagine how that went the first couple of days...
But it's much better now...
But that's why I haven't written.
While I've been virtually dormant, life has been literally bonkers for about the last three weeks. The E-Unit and I are the proud new weekday watchers of a jolly little gibblet named E-Mac (or at least we'll call her that, in order to differentiate her from our own E-Unit.) This new "acquisition" came about when E-Mac's mommy decided to go back to school. E-Mac didn't like this much and decided that daycare was for the birds, and spent most of two days trying to get this message across to the daycare provider. Unfortunately, this particular daycare provider did not speak E-Mac and instead, BOOTED HER OUT OF THE DAYCARE! (this is a rather sore subject, as often touched upon by my friend Aunt TT in her frank and heartwarming blog The Vampire, the Drama Queen, & Aunt TT)
As ri-damn-diculous as that whole "hey let's take a baby and reject her for doing what babies do" concept sounds, it provided us the opportunity to be backup daycare providers until that faroff day when E-Mac makes it to the top of a long waiting list for another daycare. 'Til then, we are quite tickled to have an extra little friend around, and I've been quite busy learning the ins and outs of this Unit's operating system.
Like...
How to make bottles (woah.... check it: I never used formula! had no clue how to use it. luckily instructions on the can are written in simple, zombie-suited language) and then best way to give kid said bottle.
And...
Getting new-to-me baby to nap in new-to-her house and crib, without sending new-to-her me into the loony bin with her apparently new-to-everyone screaming fits (this has tremendously improved, btw!)
Really she's a darling little peach who, when happy, is the most content child I've seen since the first E-Unit rolled off the line in Aught Eight. The adjustments have been more for myself in preparation for E-Mac's daily arrivals, and include going to bed at 9:30pm and waking up at just a smidge before 6am...
You can imagine how that went the first couple of days...
But it's much better now...
But that's why I haven't written.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
And now, a word from our sponsor
Today's sponsor is Captain Obvious.
Ten days ago, the darling little silver laptop on which I type died a tragic and sudden death. There was, as there often is, the Blue Screen of Death as well as some low-tech Beeps of Terror, which were all set to a pulsing backbeat of my husband's Swearing of Profanities.
We chalked it up to fate. The poor thing was almost six years old, and while it was beyond top-of-the-line at it's inception, times had changed and subtle new technologies had left us in the dust. It didn't help that we were also running a illegitimate version of Windows, which never allowed us any updates or additional virus protection; so really it's a wonder the poor thing had made it that long.
Suddenly, at about 8pm that fateful Saturday evening, I learned of laptop's death, and found out I would be rendered completely internet-less for all but an hour or so a day.
Internet-less. (noun) \ˈin-tər-ˌnet-ˈles\ 1. being without internet 2. being utterly devoid of access to email, social networking, and online shopping, with the inability to randomly find out the answer to any question instantly on Google, such as "what substitutes eggs in cookie recipe" and "red spot on breast."
Oh Lordy. Whattodo?!?
Well here's where our handy, dandy sponsor, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS, comes in to deliver his message.
The Internet is certainly handy, but is 90% time-killing garbage.
I suddenly had SOOO MUUUUCCHHH TIIIIIIME. So. Much. Sickening amounts of time. Time to play with my daughter. Time to cook meals ahead of time. Time to sit on the couch and watch a show about Tibet while drinking a coffee. Time to unpack long forgotten boxes from our June move. Time to consider painting rooms, and, once the colors are decided, time to actually paint them. Time to spontaneously decide to rake the lawn, or chase the kid around the lawn, or chase the kid around the lawn with a rake. Egads!
Two evenings into my internet-less existence, I logged onto Facebook and felt like I was walking through a once-familiar neighborhood, where everyone I once knew had moved away. No witty status came to mind. No biting retorts, no virtual thumbs-ups. I did not, in fact, care that Dawn wished us all a happy Tuesday, or that Ann's FedEx package had failed to show up. I did not even click to "see more."
Sure, there were a couple of times during the day that I wished I could instantly ameliorate some morbid curiosity via Google, or when I became curious as to whether the car payment had gone through. But you know what I did?
I WROTE MYSELF A NOTE. And I looked it up later that evening when the hubba relinquished control of his work computer. Or just forgot entirely, because it was, really, exactly. that. important.
Ten days ago, the darling little silver laptop on which I type died a tragic and sudden death. There was, as there often is, the Blue Screen of Death as well as some low-tech Beeps of Terror, which were all set to a pulsing backbeat of my husband's Swearing of Profanities.
We chalked it up to fate. The poor thing was almost six years old, and while it was beyond top-of-the-line at it's inception, times had changed and subtle new technologies had left us in the dust. It didn't help that we were also running a illegitimate version of Windows, which never allowed us any updates or additional virus protection; so really it's a wonder the poor thing had made it that long.
Suddenly, at about 8pm that fateful Saturday evening, I learned of laptop's death, and found out I would be rendered completely internet-less for all but an hour or so a day.
Internet-less. (noun) \ˈin-tər-ˌnet-ˈles\ 1. being without internet 2. being utterly devoid of access to email, social networking, and online shopping, with the inability to randomly find out the answer to any question instantly on Google, such as "what substitutes eggs in cookie recipe" and "red spot on breast."
Oh Lordy. Whattodo?!?
Well here's where our handy, dandy sponsor, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS, comes in to deliver his message.
The Internet is certainly handy, but is 90% time-killing garbage.
I suddenly had SOOO MUUUUCCHHH TIIIIIIME. So. Much. Sickening amounts of time. Time to play with my daughter. Time to cook meals ahead of time. Time to sit on the couch and watch a show about Tibet while drinking a coffee. Time to unpack long forgotten boxes from our June move. Time to consider painting rooms, and, once the colors are decided, time to actually paint them. Time to spontaneously decide to rake the lawn, or chase the kid around the lawn, or chase the kid around the lawn with a rake. Egads!
Two evenings into my internet-less existence, I logged onto Facebook and felt like I was walking through a once-familiar neighborhood, where everyone I once knew had moved away. No witty status came to mind. No biting retorts, no virtual thumbs-ups. I did not, in fact, care that Dawn wished us all a happy Tuesday, or that Ann's FedEx package had failed to show up. I did not even click to "see more."
Sure, there were a couple of times during the day that I wished I could instantly ameliorate some morbid curiosity via Google, or when I became curious as to whether the car payment had gone through. But you know what I did?
I WROTE MYSELF A NOTE. And I looked it up later that evening when the hubba relinquished control of his work computer. Or just forgot entirely, because it was, really, exactly. that. important.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Spaceholder
Haven't posted anything in awhile. So will show video of kid on balance bike. Insert "yaaaaaay" noise here.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Spampylandia Goes Political
I have another blog titled "An Ipod for the Queen" where I once imagined I would safely confine my political rantings. Unfortunately, AIFTQ lies long neglected, and poor Facebook feels the brunt of my tri-polar South Park Republican, neo-conservative, and libertarian-except-for-the-whole-legalize-pot-thing moodswings.
I have a dear friend who in the kitchen is a pioneer and a scientist and an innovator. On the computer and behind a camera, she's an artist and a wizard. With her child, she's a beacon of humor and patience. She's got the voice of a goddess and isn't afraid to shake her booty. And as a friend, she's just damn good fun. But somewhere early in our association I began to get the feeling that...
(Woah there. Let me clearly state that noting all her talents and then calling her a lib was not in fact some sort of literary device for subtly implying that liberals are characteristically talentless boobs. I will leave that sort of smug, implied slander to true assholes like Keith Olberman. Who I would now call a boob, except to do so would insult the boobs of myself and every other woman. Boobs are useful, beautiful things. Olberman's just an elitist ass.)
So your friend's a liberal? Big damn deal, you say. True. Exactly that. One thing I love about her - sure, we have a variety of political beliefs that don't necessarily line up, but either a.) we can talk about them without hating each other, or b.) we respectfully don't talk about them at all. And perhaps that is the difference between "being a liberal" and having liberal beliefs or political leanings. "Being a liberal" is not her defining quality; the end-all-be-all of her being. She's very willing to consider the other side. We have other friends (and family) who are unwilling to even just appear to consider an "opposing" point of view for the sake of ending an argument. They ARE liberals (and conservatives), and very proud of it, but from an outsider's point of view it seems to take away from their quality of life.
My mother always asked us as children to "humor" her. As in, "Mawwwwwwm, I don't want to BE here!" "Well, humor me." Pretend. Put your best face forward. It may be a combination of patience and dishonesty that borders on the unhealthy, but it certainly keeps the peace. And whatever unhealthiness aside, it builds a certain consideration for the feelings of others in s/he who is doing the humoring. Which I believe is called empathy.
Things get heated in the political arena, but despite everything I really try to keep things civil, and at the very least humor those who will accord me the same level of respect. It may be a better use of time to bounce ping pong balls off a wall than to try and relay facts to someone who does not want to hear them. But it's really super fun to actually get out the paddles and have a proper game.
This friend is a great friend, and I hope in her good humoring-humor she'll not mind too terribly that I've not only psychoanalyzed our relationship on a seriously strange political level, but also that I'm reposting what I'd written for her on Facebook in response to an article from the UK's Guardian that she shared regarding the so-called "Ground Zero mosque".
*colored additions denote things not originally posted on FB
*******************************************
I know you've missed me chiming in on things! :-) So here's an alternative viewpoint: http://www.jpost.com/Opini
Since when have we been such champions of religious tolerance and freedom in the US? Everyone's got to tread so lightly because someone might be OFFENDED. Yes, it absolutely is a constitutional right to put it where you please provided all the $ and permits come through. But people are offended. Ooooooh. But unfortunately, that's the precedent that has been set over the past few years. No nativity scene? No holidays? It's not all been just matters of separation of church and state. Upwards of 75% of the people in the US are against the building of this center so close to where the World Trade Center once stood. Simply put: please, No mosque.
As far as being the big olive branch... wouldn't a simple focus group show that this is NOT the best step toward bridging differences between good ol' ignorant Americans and progressive Muslims? If they're really trying to creative positive dialogue, why won't the planners consider any of the alternative options presented by NYC or the state of New York? NY Governor Patterson has offered to meet with the planners and help find them an alternative site for the center, but his offer was met with flat refusal - refusal to even meet. Where's the dialogue there?
As for Ground Zero - the landing gear of one of the planes crashed through the Burlington Coat Factory building, which is part of the reason it's stood vacant for so long. Yeah, it's not the WTC site. But neither is it a residential area that would be best served by a community center with all the trappings of a YMCA. I can't find any website to substantiate this, and the one I'll link to now doesn't help me because I'm unfamiliar with the geography of NYC and Manhattan, but apparently there is already an existing mosque about 6 blocks from the WTC site. The argument that there is little worship space for Muslims living in NYC is silly, considering in the state of Connecticut has fewer mosques (23) than a search of "within 5 miles of Manhattan, NY" (34).
As for the media - aren't they worried about a backlash? The media danced around the Ft. Hood shooting issue claiming they didn't want to create a backlash against regular ol' Muslims. Yet this has been turned into such a "us vs. them" situation that truly moderate middle-American Muslims are being backed into corners and questioned by friends over something they would probably rather have nothing to do with. It's so hypocritical and dangerous on their part. Mosques in CT and NC are being protested as well. Now, provided there is due diligence in researching their funding, no permit issues, and the call to prayer won't drive away any endangered species, should they really be having such a problem? No.
This woman is amazing, and has been around the news for a bit trying to get her point across. http://www.ottawacitizen.c
These are just the philosophical issues... there are more serious issues with the funding and all too. Here, and here, and yeah... here too. Oh and this also. Especially that.
So, a la middle school: In conclusion, I absolutely believe the Cordoba Project planners have every right to build a community center with a mosque in it, or just a mosque, or a freakin' all-beef hotdog stand flying the flag of Hamas near, on, or a few blocks away from Ground Zero... but is the idea in good taste? Is it in the best interest of the people the center will serve? Are the planners according to the non-Muslim citizens of New York the consideration and respect that they demand for themselves?
Nope.
I have a dear friend who in the kitchen is a pioneer and a scientist and an innovator. On the computer and behind a camera, she's an artist and a wizard. With her child, she's a beacon of humor and patience. She's got the voice of a goddess and isn't afraid to shake her booty. And as a friend, she's just damn good fun. But somewhere early in our association I began to get the feeling that...
dum dum DAAAAAAH...
this friend is a liberal.(Woah there. Let me clearly state that noting all her talents and then calling her a lib was not in fact some sort of literary device for subtly implying that liberals are characteristically talentless boobs. I will leave that sort of smug, implied slander to true assholes like Keith Olberman. Who I would now call a boob, except to do so would insult the boobs of myself and every other woman. Boobs are useful, beautiful things. Olberman's just an elitist ass.)
So your friend's a liberal? Big damn deal, you say. True. Exactly that. One thing I love about her - sure, we have a variety of political beliefs that don't necessarily line up, but either a.) we can talk about them without hating each other, or b.) we respectfully don't talk about them at all. And perhaps that is the difference between "being a liberal" and having liberal beliefs or political leanings. "Being a liberal" is not her defining quality; the end-all-be-all of her being. She's very willing to consider the other side. We have other friends (and family) who are unwilling to even just appear to consider an "opposing" point of view for the sake of ending an argument. They ARE liberals (and conservatives), and very proud of it, but from an outsider's point of view it seems to take away from their quality of life.
My mother always asked us as children to "humor" her. As in, "Mawwwwwwm, I don't want to BE here!" "Well, humor me." Pretend. Put your best face forward. It may be a combination of patience and dishonesty that borders on the unhealthy, but it certainly keeps the peace. And whatever unhealthiness aside, it builds a certain consideration for the feelings of others in s/he who is doing the humoring. Which I believe is called empathy.
Things get heated in the political arena, but despite everything I really try to keep things civil, and at the very least humor those who will accord me the same level of respect. It may be a better use of time to bounce ping pong balls off a wall than to try and relay facts to someone who does not want to hear them. But it's really super fun to actually get out the paddles and have a proper game.
This friend is a great friend, and I hope in her good humoring-humor she'll not mind too terribly that I've not only psychoanalyzed our relationship on a seriously strange political level, but also that I'm reposting what I'd written for her on Facebook in response to an article from the UK's Guardian that she shared regarding the so-called "Ground Zero mosque".
*colored additions denote things not originally posted on FB
*******************************************
I know you've missed me chiming in on things! :-) So here's an alternative viewpoint: http://www.jpost.com/Opini
Since when have we been such champions of religious tolerance and freedom in the US? Everyone's got to tread so lightly because someone might be OFFENDED. Yes, it absolutely is a constitutional right to put it where you please provided all the $ and permits come through. But people are offended. Ooooooh. But unfortunately, that's the precedent that has been set over the past few years. No nativity scene? No holidays? It's not all been just matters of separation of church and state. Upwards of 75% of the people in the US are against the building of this center so close to where the World Trade Center once stood. Simply put: please, No mosque.
As far as being the big olive branch... wouldn't a simple focus group show that this is NOT the best step toward bridging differences between good ol' ignorant Americans and progressive Muslims? If they're really trying to creative positive dialogue, why won't the planners consider any of the alternative options presented by NYC or the state of New York? NY Governor Patterson has offered to meet with the planners and help find them an alternative site for the center, but his offer was met with flat refusal - refusal to even meet. Where's the dialogue there?
As for Ground Zero - the landing gear of one of the planes crashed through the Burlington Coat Factory building, which is part of the reason it's stood vacant for so long. Yeah, it's not the WTC site. But neither is it a residential area that would be best served by a community center with all the trappings of a YMCA. I can't find any website to substantiate this, and the one I'll link to now doesn't help me because I'm unfamiliar with the geography of NYC and Manhattan, but apparently there is already an existing mosque about 6 blocks from the WTC site. The argument that there is little worship space for Muslims living in NYC is silly, considering in the state of Connecticut has fewer mosques (23) than a search of "within 5 miles of Manhattan, NY" (34).
As for the media - aren't they worried about a backlash? The media danced around the Ft. Hood shooting issue claiming they didn't want to create a backlash against regular ol' Muslims. Yet this has been turned into such a "us vs. them" situation that truly moderate middle-American Muslims are being backed into corners and questioned by friends over something they would probably rather have nothing to do with. It's so hypocritical and dangerous on their part. Mosques in CT and NC are being protested as well. Now, provided there is due diligence in researching their funding, no permit issues, and the call to prayer won't drive away any endangered species, should they really be having such a problem? No.
This woman is amazing, and has been around the news for a bit trying to get her point across. http://www.ottawacitizen.c
These are just the philosophical issues... there are more serious issues with the funding and all too. Here, and here, and yeah... here too. Oh and this also. Especially that.
So, a la middle school: In conclusion, I absolutely believe the Cordoba Project planners have every right to build a community center with a mosque in it, or just a mosque, or a freakin' all-beef hotdog stand flying the flag of Hamas near, on, or a few blocks away from Ground Zero... but is the idea in good taste? Is it in the best interest of the people the center will serve? Are the planners according to the non-Muslim citizens of New York the consideration and respect that they demand for themselves?
Nope.
Onam Sadya
Happy Onam! Onam is a holiday in Kerala - traditionally celebrated by Keralites of every faith and denomination, but only in Kerala or amongst those Keralites scattered around the world. Of the multitudinous holidays on the Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Sikh and Buddhist calendars of India, Onam is a celebration pertaining to the "all of the above" of Kerala; but of Kerala alone.
Being a "person of Indian origin" by marriage and wife of a Malayalee (Keralite) by choice, each passing year I've become slightly more aware of Onam's passing. I try to make an effort to celebrate, if even just the tiniest effort.
The most authentic Onam we've had was before we were married, up in Detroit; a Malayalee couple we knew invited us to a family celebration complete with set-saris, lungis, and Surya network on the TV. We ate a colorful array of vegetarian curries on real banana leaves. Sebastian arrived late with some other friends direct from a cricket match, looking sweaty and especially Mallu :-)
Since then, it's always somewhere between completely forgetting and that. Usually much towards forgetting.
Last year? If memory serves me, I think I emailed some cousins and asked for recipes which I did not in fact cook, and took pictures of my daughter in a traditional dress that did not fit.
This year? Ohhhhh... it's late, but I'm making the sadya.
A sadya is a vegetarian feast. Perhaps even just a feast... I don't know. But perhaps because of the Hindu origins of this festival, Onam food is traditionally vegetarian. And served on a banana leaf.
Alas, we'll be eating it on plates. Baby steps, chechi. Baby steps.
Does Sebastian know much about Onam? I'm sure he does, but I haven't bothered to ask. Having never been a native Keralite other than during summer vacations, I think he probably missed the Onam boat growing up. (which is "punny", because one characteristic of Onam is the boat races) I do know for a fact that he's not a fan of the food. Perhaps it's the whole vegetarian aspect :-)
So this year, our Onam sadya will include the following:
I've never done a whole "hey look what I'm cooking" sort of blog, so today, beginning at the ripe hour of 10pm, I thought I'd give it a try. My sidekicks in this endeavor are both my trusty Canon camera and a bottle of 2009 Starborough Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand that I bought purely on it's bottle-y beauty and affordability. (God bless you, seven buck chuck!) Both have been trusty companions all night long, and the wine may survive to see the sunrise... maybe :-)
So. Egg curry and thoran are old hat for me, both being previous winners of the Sebastian George "Oh My God It's Better Than My Mom's" Award. This manga thing sounded delicious, but was uncharted territory, both in eating and preparation. Once I skinned four ripe mangos and settled them into a big pot of coconut milk, I realized that this particular dish was probably destined for failure. We'll see tomorrow when I, hopefully, pull the giant non-Indian mangos (the size alone made the recipe unrealistic) out and cut them away from their massive seeds and into digestible pieces, that this will become a dish worthy of a banana leaf after all.
Now avial... this is a better story. With photo documentation.
Avial is a vegetarian dish that pertains to especially Hindus of all southern India. It's preparation is laborious because of the vegetables that require chopping... beans, carrots, potatoes, bananas/plantains, yams, and then crazy local vegetables that I can neither remember, pronounce or procure when back in the midwest.
I say Hindus especially, because it's a Hindu friend who justified the purchase of a $200 chefs knife because, "it's a pain in the ass to make all of our food, especially avial."
My variety tonight, includes carrots, beans, potatoes, yams and a plantain...
Then, like Kermit the Frog used to sing... "You put the lime in de coconut, and drank 'em both up." Actually not like that at all. You put all the veggies into a big ol' skillet of water, which of course I had measured incorrectly due to the odd and irritating variance between the size of Indian and American cups.
*side note: An Indian cup is approximately 150ml, whereas the American measure of a cup is upwards of some 240ml. When we go to India, "a cup of coffee" is often served in the same variety of paper cups that your dentist gives you when you have to swish mouthwash - or in homes, in what seems like it's actually a child's tea set cups. My clever and accommodating mother-in-law has a stash of three Wal-Mart variety mugs that she calls her "American coffee mugs" and brings them out on occasions where us super-sized folks, including Sebastian, are around. God bless that thoughtful woman!
So in go the vegetables to a pot filled with 7 cups of water... which I quickly realize is way too much. Nevertheless, let's cook 'em.
Now while those cook to an al dente sort of doneness, make a thick mixture of fresh ground coconut, onions (preferably shallots, which I cannot afford), green chilis, mustard seeds, ground cumin, salt, and... well, maybe some other things, I don't necessarily remember. (Oh, seven buck chuck... I'm still feeling your effects two days later!)
Ah! TURMERIC. That's what else. See the lovely yellow color? That stuff will turn your fingers yellow, but it'll give your insides the lovely pink of health. (har har har) Anyway the mixture wasn't the right consistency, so I added some off the mismeasured water from the vegetable pan, resulting in this:
Yaaaaay! Much better. Now somewhere along the way, throw in a handful of green, unripe mango into the vegetables and then sit back and enjoy your wine for a spell. Then mix the coconut grind in with the vegetables.
At this point, I continued to fret over the watery-ness of the avial. The wine told me I should order a pizza, but common sense said to just remove some of the water. So I used a tea strainer to pour water out while keeping coconut in.
Yes, the finished product was perhaps a little on the juicy side of traditional, but it still tasted straight out of Kanjirappally. Here it is (perhaps yet unstrained?), paired with the bottle of wine that helped me through my night of cooking that ended at 3am. Not sure whether it was the completion hour or the wine, but something made me feel pretty lousy for the majority of the next day.
And other completed sadya components...
Now the end of this story is that we haven't yet made any appams, and most of this food has gone into the freezer because our Onam sadya guests had to cancel at the last minute. Last year's Onam dress hangs on a hook but will probably fit whenever we get around to officially celebrating.
Being a "person of Indian origin" by marriage and wife of a Malayalee (Keralite) by choice, each passing year I've become slightly more aware of Onam's passing. I try to make an effort to celebrate, if even just the tiniest effort.
The most authentic Onam we've had was before we were married, up in Detroit; a Malayalee couple we knew invited us to a family celebration complete with set-saris, lungis, and Surya network on the TV. We ate a colorful array of vegetarian curries on real banana leaves. Sebastian arrived late with some other friends direct from a cricket match, looking sweaty and especially Mallu :-)
Since then, it's always somewhere between completely forgetting and that. Usually much towards forgetting.
Last year? If memory serves me, I think I emailed some cousins and asked for recipes which I did not in fact cook, and took pictures of my daughter in a traditional dress that did not fit.
This year? Ohhhhh... it's late, but I'm making the sadya.
A sadya is a vegetarian feast. Perhaps even just a feast... I don't know. But perhaps because of the Hindu origins of this festival, Onam food is traditionally vegetarian. And served on a banana leaf.
Alas, we'll be eating it on plates. Baby steps, chechi. Baby steps.
Does Sebastian know much about Onam? I'm sure he does, but I haven't bothered to ask. Having never been a native Keralite other than during summer vacations, I think he probably missed the Onam boat growing up. (which is "punny", because one characteristic of Onam is the boat races) I do know for a fact that he's not a fan of the food. Perhaps it's the whole vegetarian aspect :-)
So this year, our Onam sadya will include the following:
Mixed Vegetable Curry Avial
Ripe Mango Curry Pazha Manga Karri
Cabbage with Crushed Coconut Thoran
Mummy's Egg Curry
Basmati Rice
Lace-rimmed Rice Flour Pancakes Appam (provided we get around to making it tomorrow morning!)
I've never done a whole "hey look what I'm cooking" sort of blog, so today, beginning at the ripe hour of 10pm, I thought I'd give it a try. My sidekicks in this endeavor are both my trusty Canon camera and a bottle of 2009 Starborough Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand that I bought purely on it's bottle-y beauty and affordability. (God bless you, seven buck chuck!) Both have been trusty companions all night long, and the wine may survive to see the sunrise... maybe :-)
So. Egg curry and thoran are old hat for me, both being previous winners of the Sebastian George "Oh My God It's Better Than My Mom's" Award. This manga thing sounded delicious, but was uncharted territory, both in eating and preparation. Once I skinned four ripe mangos and settled them into a big pot of coconut milk, I realized that this particular dish was probably destined for failure. We'll see tomorrow when I, hopefully, pull the giant non-Indian mangos (the size alone made the recipe unrealistic) out and cut them away from their massive seeds and into digestible pieces, that this will become a dish worthy of a banana leaf after all.
Now avial... this is a better story. With photo documentation.
Avial is a vegetarian dish that pertains to especially Hindus of all southern India. It's preparation is laborious because of the vegetables that require chopping... beans, carrots, potatoes, bananas/plantains, yams, and then crazy local vegetables that I can neither remember, pronounce or procure when back in the midwest.
I say Hindus especially, because it's a Hindu friend who justified the purchase of a $200 chefs knife because, "it's a pain in the ass to make all of our food, especially avial."
My variety tonight, includes carrots, beans, potatoes, yams and a plantain...
 | ||||||
| Ye olde avial vegetables |
*side note: An Indian cup is approximately 150ml, whereas the American measure of a cup is upwards of some 240ml. When we go to India, "a cup of coffee" is often served in the same variety of paper cups that your dentist gives you when you have to swish mouthwash - or in homes, in what seems like it's actually a child's tea set cups. My clever and accommodating mother-in-law has a stash of three Wal-Mart variety mugs that she calls her "American coffee mugs" and brings them out on occasions where us super-sized folks, including Sebastian, are around. God bless that thoughtful woman!
So in go the vegetables to a pot filled with 7 cups of water... which I quickly realize is way too much. Nevertheless, let's cook 'em.
Now while those cook to an al dente sort of doneness, make a thick mixture of fresh ground coconut, onions (preferably shallots, which I cannot afford), green chilis, mustard seeds, ground cumin, salt, and... well, maybe some other things, I don't necessarily remember. (Oh, seven buck chuck... I'm still feeling your effects two days later!)
Ah! TURMERIC. That's what else. See the lovely yellow color? That stuff will turn your fingers yellow, but it'll give your insides the lovely pink of health. (har har har) Anyway the mixture wasn't the right consistency, so I added some off the mismeasured water from the vegetable pan, resulting in this:
Yaaaaay! Much better. Now somewhere along the way, throw in a handful of green, unripe mango into the vegetables and then sit back and enjoy your wine for a spell. Then mix the coconut grind in with the vegetables.
At this point, I continued to fret over the watery-ness of the avial. The wine told me I should order a pizza, but common sense said to just remove some of the water. So I used a tea strainer to pour water out while keeping coconut in.
Mucho mejor, amigos!!
So... your cooked vegetables are cooling, they've got their ground coconut mixture gently mixed in (as not to break up the vegetables), and now you toss in some thick plain yogurt. Finally, and this is one of those exotic touches that make Indian cooking exciting and rewarding, heat coconut oil in a tiny frying pan on high, throw in some mustard seeds, and when they splutter, drop in a handful of curry leaves. Continue to fry them until crisp and arromatic, and then ceremoniously dump the entire contents of tiny frying pan into the avial. The satisfying crackle of hot oil hitting cool yogurt and vegetables makes me think I should have taken chemistry in high school after all.
The finished result looks something like this.
The finished result looks something like this.
Yes, the finished product was perhaps a little on the juicy side of traditional, but it still tasted straight out of Kanjirappally. Here it is (perhaps yet unstrained?), paired with the bottle of wine that helped me through my night of cooking that ended at 3am. Not sure whether it was the completion hour or the wine, but something made me feel pretty lousy for the majority of the next day.
And other completed sadya components...
 | |||||
| Cabbage thoran |
 | |
| Mummy's Egg Curry - although it may look like vomit to the untrained eye, it tastes like heaven |
 |
| Cookbook by the cousin of a friend who is from the same town as Sebastian's family. Despite the name, she's no relation. But her book is very helpful. |
Now the end of this story is that we haven't yet made any appams, and most of this food has gone into the freezer because our Onam sadya guests had to cancel at the last minute. Last year's Onam dress hangs on a hook but will probably fit whenever we get around to officially celebrating.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tickled
It tickles me to no end when I accidentally let loose a little morning toot, and Elena looks at me and very sincerely asks, "Mommy? Poopy?"
Thanks for keeping an eye on me, kid.
Thanks for keeping an eye on me, kid.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Mothers are always easily impressed
You'll understand if you're a mom. My kid just found a purse full of garage-sale change, unzipped it, and happily shouted, "MONEEEEEEY!" Then she sat on the floor, poured all the moneeeeeey out and proceeded to count coins.
Hawoooon
toooooo
treeeeeee
fooooooo
fiiiiive...
sevvvven
aiiiiit
Sure she skipped six. But where did that come from?
Then she put it all back. And again counted...
hawoooon
toooo
treeeee
fooooo
fiiiive
(prompted by momma) SEEEEEEX
seeven
aiiiiit
(pause for effect)
naaaaaaaaine
(pause for effect again... little drama queen!)
TAAAN!
Then she burst into spontaneous applause. So did I.
*yaaaaay!* :-)
Hawoooon
toooooo
treeeeeee
fooooooo
fiiiiive...
sevvvven
aiiiiit
Sure she skipped six. But where did that come from?
Then she put it all back. And again counted...
hawoooon
toooo
treeeee
fooooo
fiiiive
(prompted by momma) SEEEEEEX
seeven
aiiiiit
(pause for effect)
naaaaaaaaine
(pause for effect again... little drama queen!)
TAAAN!
Then she burst into spontaneous applause. So did I.
*yaaaaay!* :-)
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Contentment Part 2
Hell yeah, I woke up content!
(I guess it took a day to soak in, because yesterday I woke up with an unseemly pain in the kidney area and deemed it necessary to schedule a doctors appointment. Oh, and a hair appointment. Functioning kidneys and bangs of a manageable length - both goals to strive towards.)
But today, whoo hoo - CONTENTMENT! And amusement, because I recall being vaguely aware that my phone's alarm was going off for a really long time underneath a pillow. Made a coffee for both Saby and I. Bid el husband-o adieu with a kiss at the front door, versus him kissing my sleeping corpse before going downstairs. I farked around on Facebook for awhile, threw myself into some clothing, threw the kid in the car and was off to Englewood Metropark to walk with Loreen by 9:30am! (well... maybe it was more like 9:40am, but Loreen was just unloading the car, so...)
We walked an indeterminate amount at a pretty decent clip, which I am rather frustrated to be unable to track via www.dailymile.com due to some crappy programming bug. But I am indeed pleased with both the satisfaction of having walked with a friend, and the high tech ability to track those miles - once dailymile.com pulls it's head from it's bum, of course. :-)
P.S. Doctor told me that random pain was probably musculo-skeletal and that "you'll feel better if you lose some weight." Well then.
(I guess it took a day to soak in, because yesterday I woke up with an unseemly pain in the kidney area and deemed it necessary to schedule a doctors appointment. Oh, and a hair appointment. Functioning kidneys and bangs of a manageable length - both goals to strive towards.)
But today, whoo hoo - CONTENTMENT! And amusement, because I recall being vaguely aware that my phone's alarm was going off for a really long time underneath a pillow. Made a coffee for both Saby and I. Bid el husband-o adieu with a kiss at the front door, versus him kissing my sleeping corpse before going downstairs. I farked around on Facebook for awhile, threw myself into some clothing, threw the kid in the car and was off to Englewood Metropark to walk with Loreen by 9:30am! (well... maybe it was more like 9:40am, but Loreen was just unloading the car, so...)
We walked an indeterminate amount at a pretty decent clip, which I am rather frustrated to be unable to track via www.dailymile.com due to some crappy programming bug. But I am indeed pleased with both the satisfaction of having walked with a friend, and the high tech ability to track those miles - once dailymile.com pulls it's head from it's bum, of course. :-)
P.S. Doctor told me that random pain was probably musculo-skeletal and that "you'll feel better if you lose some weight." Well then.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Contentment
We've had days, possibly weeks now, worth of "heat advisory" temperatures... mid-to-high nineties, with pretty disgustingly high humidity. The heat index rivaled that of Dubai the other day, with it feeling like 108. Here. In the lil' old Miami Valley, Dayton, Ohio.
Today I found Elena's snowsuit for this winter and in honor of these heat advisories, I washed it. I felt a bit witchy while dumping the unseasonably large, fluffy pink thing into a gentle cold cycle, willing it to bring some gently colder temperatures.
And then I wondered how far into winter 2010/2011 we would have to get before I was pulling her bathing suits out, wishing for warmth and sunshine.
Which then made me google search "contentment".
Which then led me to this.
Let me paraphrase for those of you who don't click links, or who may be turned off by the Christianity factor.
Contentment is not natural. It is something that we must learn over time. You don't just wake up content.
I think tomorrow I will try and wake up content.
Today I found Elena's snowsuit for this winter and in honor of these heat advisories, I washed it. I felt a bit witchy while dumping the unseasonably large, fluffy pink thing into a gentle cold cycle, willing it to bring some gently colder temperatures.
And then I wondered how far into winter 2010/2011 we would have to get before I was pulling her bathing suits out, wishing for warmth and sunshine.
Which then made me google search "contentment".
Which then led me to this.
Let me paraphrase for those of you who don't click links, or who may be turned off by the Christianity factor.
Contentment is not something that comes naturally. Naturally, we are prone to,
* compare ourselves with others
* to always want more than we have (remember Adam and Eve?)
* to interpret someone else's good fortune as coming at our expense
* to complain
Contentment is not natural. It is something that we must learn over time. You don't just wake up content.
I think tomorrow I will try and wake up content.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Genius Alert, Part 2
Kid might be a genius, but I'm an negligent asshole.
Guess who probably has a 2nd degree burn on her palm and 4 fingertips? Here's a clue: her hand is really little.
Kid: Genius. Mom: Dipshit.
***********UPDATE****************
12 noon
While making breakfast (yes at noon... there are multiple examples of my negligence) child burns hand on glass radiant range top while my back is turned. Assumption is that she flat-handed it, but exact cause forever unknown due to turned back and CSI Dayton not returning my calls.
12:15pm
Child takes Tylenol after sitting with hand under cold running water for 14 minutes (this timeline allows 1 minute for frantic panic of mother)
12:30pm
Pediatric staff is on lunch break from noon to one, crap.
1:02pm
I call Pediatrician's other number and am tersely told that it is not an emergency. I didn't think so either, but jeeze... when do your coworkers get back from lunch?
1:08pm
Debbie the nurse instantly answers and suggests the tiny crispy hand come in to be seen by a doctor, due to her age and my apparent inability to describe the injury. Probably also to have me evaluated for child abuse.
1:20pm
I realize, despite the drama du jour, that I must must MUST get finished with the day's necessary task, which is organizing and pricing items I'm contributing to a huge mom's sale on Saturday. The seller requirements are strict and the waiting list long, and I don't want to lose my chance at an 80/20 cut on getting rid of some unnecessary E-unit accessories! Safety pins. MUST HAVE SAFETY PINS. Rather than make Daddy come home from work...
1:25pm
Call Darion, babysitter extraordinaire. Who is also now Dental Office administrative assistant extraordinaire and has a mere 30 minutes worth of lunch break left... she generously and sweetly donates those 30 minutes to me as I run to Meijer for gauze, burn spray, and SAFETY PINS.
1:55pm
Return. Darion runs back to her real job. Elena cries for Muppets.
2:30pm
Halfway into The Great Muppet Caper, the burn victim falls asleep. I frantically tag items, get dressing down from Dada via chat, and drink coffee.
4:00pm
Intend to leave for doctor at 4:15, but find more things to sell and leave at 4:28 instead. Have to wake Lil' Well Done up and she appears to be feeling remarkably spiffy.
4:40pm
Arrive for 4:30 appointment, much to the chagrin of pediatrician office lady. While we wait, E runs in circles barefoot (negligence!!) yelling the lyrics to Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in a way that seems entirely uncharacteristic of someone who doesn't feel well. Optimism all around.
4:55pm Doc comes in wearing a U of M sweater vest. Instead of reminding him it was August and 89 degrees outside, I compliment him and mentioned our Michigan roots. We discuss the University of Michigan versus Eastern Michigan University, then both if those versus "THE" Ohio State University. He checks E's hand, and says "Good! Uh... not that she burned her hand. That's not good. But it's better than it could be!"
So what I just spent 20 minutes typing could really be described as such: the burn was a bad first degree, with only one spot - fingertip of pinky - that is going to blister and be at risk for infection. It hasn't bothered her all day today, and we all learned a good lesson: keep the two-year old away from the stove!
p.s. And I then drove to Fairborn and turned in 65 items to the TCMC Sale for Saturday, not only on time, but EARLY. And then made what my husband described as the best egg curry he's ever had. All in all, not a terrible day.
Guess who's added something new to her conversation repertoire? In addition to her friendly hellos, handshakes and "howa-you?", Elena now will show off her burn and revel in the pity.
Guess who probably has a 2nd degree burn on her palm and 4 fingertips? Here's a clue: her hand is really little.
Kid: Genius. Mom: Dipshit.
***********UPDATE****************
12 noon
While making breakfast (yes at noon... there are multiple examples of my negligence) child burns hand on glass radiant range top while my back is turned. Assumption is that she flat-handed it, but exact cause forever unknown due to turned back and CSI Dayton not returning my calls.
12:15pm
Child takes Tylenol after sitting with hand under cold running water for 14 minutes (this timeline allows 1 minute for frantic panic of mother)
12:30pm
Pediatric staff is on lunch break from noon to one, crap.
1:02pm
I call Pediatrician's other number and am tersely told that it is not an emergency. I didn't think so either, but jeeze... when do your coworkers get back from lunch?
1:08pm
Debbie the nurse instantly answers and suggests the tiny crispy hand come in to be seen by a doctor, due to her age and my apparent inability to describe the injury. Probably also to have me evaluated for child abuse.
1:20pm
I realize, despite the drama du jour, that I must must MUST get finished with the day's necessary task, which is organizing and pricing items I'm contributing to a huge mom's sale on Saturday. The seller requirements are strict and the waiting list long, and I don't want to lose my chance at an 80/20 cut on getting rid of some unnecessary E-unit accessories! Safety pins. MUST HAVE SAFETY PINS. Rather than make Daddy come home from work...
1:25pm
Call Darion, babysitter extraordinaire. Who is also now Dental Office administrative assistant extraordinaire and has a mere 30 minutes worth of lunch break left... she generously and sweetly donates those 30 minutes to me as I run to Meijer for gauze, burn spray, and SAFETY PINS.
1:55pm
Return. Darion runs back to her real job. Elena cries for Muppets.
2:30pm
Halfway into The Great Muppet Caper, the burn victim falls asleep. I frantically tag items, get dressing down from Dada via chat, and drink coffee.
4:00pm
Intend to leave for doctor at 4:15, but find more things to sell and leave at 4:28 instead. Have to wake Lil' Well Done up and she appears to be feeling remarkably spiffy.
4:40pm
Arrive for 4:30 appointment, much to the chagrin of pediatrician office lady. While we wait, E runs in circles barefoot (negligence!!) yelling the lyrics to Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star in a way that seems entirely uncharacteristic of someone who doesn't feel well. Optimism all around.
4:55pm Doc comes in wearing a U of M sweater vest. Instead of reminding him it was August and 89 degrees outside, I compliment him and mentioned our Michigan roots. We discuss the University of Michigan versus Eastern Michigan University, then both if those versus "THE" Ohio State University. He checks E's hand, and says "Good! Uh... not that she burned her hand. That's not good. But it's better than it could be!"
So what I just spent 20 minutes typing could really be described as such: the burn was a bad first degree, with only one spot - fingertip of pinky - that is going to blister and be at risk for infection. It hasn't bothered her all day today, and we all learned a good lesson: keep the two-year old away from the stove!
p.s. And I then drove to Fairborn and turned in 65 items to the TCMC Sale for Saturday, not only on time, but EARLY. And then made what my husband described as the best egg curry he's ever had. All in all, not a terrible day.
** UPDATE!! **
I guess you could say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And also teaches your child how to "milk it." 
Guess who's added something new to her conversation repertoire? In addition to her friendly hellos, handshakes and "howa-you?", Elena now will show off her burn and revel in the pity.
Haaaaand? Owwie? Hot! Pssss! [her own special "sizzle" sound effect] Hand. [somber pause for effect. Knowing nod.] OWWIE.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Genius Alert
Everybody's kids are geniuses, right?
Well mine too, mine too!
Back [what feels like 9 million years ago] at the old apartment, whenever it would rain we would pull up the blinds and stand in the window, enjoying the downpour. In my ever-present desire to raise a FEARLESS FEMALE, I've told E from early on that thunder is "tigers." Why? Because she likes tigers.
She growls at tigers. Tigers are thunder. Therefore, she growls at thunder.
(yeah, shuttup... you know it's cute, at least a little bit)
So when today's 110 degree Fahrenheit heat index finally dissolved the hot gray sky into the thunderstorms we were all waiting for, Elena was ready at the kitchen sliding door, ready to watch for tigers.
"Rain!" Yes, it was raining.
"Tie-gahs!" Indeed, then came the thunder.
"Head?" [tilt head, wiggle hips, beseeching look]
This "head" thing I didn't know.
"Mama? Head?" [hips wiggle again]
Head? I was flipping through my mental Rolodex...
"Mama? Rain, rain... head?" And then I realized... standing in the apartment window, watching the rain would usually included a few rounds of
Thus... I also have a genius ;-)
Well mine too, mine too!
Back [what feels like 9 million years ago] at the old apartment, whenever it would rain we would pull up the blinds and stand in the window, enjoying the downpour. In my ever-present desire to raise a FEARLESS FEMALE, I've told E from early on that thunder is "tigers." Why? Because she likes tigers.
She growls at tigers. Tigers are thunder. Therefore, she growls at thunder.
(yeah, shuttup... you know it's cute, at least a little bit)
So when today's 110 degree Fahrenheit heat index finally dissolved the hot gray sky into the thunderstorms we were all waiting for, Elena was ready at the kitchen sliding door, ready to watch for tigers.
"Rain!" Yes, it was raining.
"Tie-gahs!" Indeed, then came the thunder.
"Head?" [tilt head, wiggle hips, beseeching look]
This "head" thing I didn't know.
"Mama? Head?" [hips wiggle again]
Head? I was flipping through my mental Rolodex...
"Mama? Rain, rain... head?" And then I realized... standing in the apartment window, watching the rain would usually included a few rounds of
"It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring. Went to bed and he bumped his head, and he didn't get up in the morning."The kid remembered. We moved the first week of June, so these were May showers we sang for. It's the first week of August. That's a long time.
Thus... I also have a genius ;-)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
FluMist Flu (utterly uninteresting but damnit, I'm pissed)
Declaration: I am not a anti-vaccination mother. I am a fan of the herd immunity. The mob mentality.
So when a never-met-before nurse practitioner suggested that I sign off on my kid taking the new FluMist combo H1N1 and seasonal flu vaccination, simply because it had just come in and my daughter was conveniently both in the office and six days above the minimum age, I rolled the idea around in my head for a bit and gave an unenthusiastic "yes."
(I did also call my husband and ask his opinion... and finally I asked the NP whether there was "any reason I should not do this." Husband answered "I have no opinion either way" and NP said "I think you SHOULD do this.")
Two days before the appointment during which this all transpired, the little girl in question had had a ball playing in her snazzy new wading pool and drank a significant amount of water from the pool's little built-in fountain. The next day, two diapers worth of nasty loose motion led me to imagine that the warning on the hose wasn't kidding about E. coli bacteria. This I mentioned to both the nurse and the NP, but with no other symptoms it didn't go much further.
So child gets FluMist nasally and one shot, a dose of seasonal flu vaccine that she had apparently missed last year.
Fast forward to Friday. Child is a little listless, and hot. Eats next to nothing, but we carry on as usual because sometimes the day after a shot this happens. Cousins arrive, and she's excited to see them. A little off her game though.
Saturday: Child eats some Cheerios for breakfast, as would be expected by a 2-year old who has eaten next to nothing the previous day. Then she comes with us to Air Force Museum and gets carried around, then refuses to eat at lunch and acts like a grade-A nutjob, then goes home and remains feverish, needy, and just bad.
Sunday: On the mend, we think, until cousins leave and she bursts into flame and feels so hot we get a little worried... as usual fever lowers with medicine and we plan to see the doctor Monday. She cries and acts like a different child on and off.
Monday: sleeps in until 11:15am (later than her atypical but regular toddler-wake up hour of 9:30am), lays in bed watching Muppets til 1:30pm, and finally drinks two chocolate milks and eats some cereal before heading off to doctor appointment at 2:45.
When I called our old doctor's office to get the new office's number, I said we needed an appointment because my daughter was having a reaction to the FluMist she was given on Thursday. The receptionist said, "Oh, she must have come in with something before they gave it." The doctor swabbed her for strep throat and said she probably has a viral infection. No one took the Occam's razor approach and just thought, "Wow! She had a flu vaccination with a LIVE virus in it... and a day later she seems to get the flu!" Hey, dickheads... the damn CDC even says:
So, to summarize:
1.) I am disappointed with my pediatric care providers as a whole, for suggesting if not pushing this FluMist to a kid who had diarrhea and was only 6 days above the minimal age limit anyway, and then not even owning up to the possibility of it being a minor adverse reaction
2.) I am tired of having a sick kid, and am positive the kid is tired of being sick
3.) I do not suggest the FluMist vaccine unless your kid is over age 5 and healthy as a horse
I apologize for this post not being terribly interesting or even remotely funny, but I am pissed about this and needed somewhere to complain.
So when a never-met-before nurse practitioner suggested that I sign off on my kid taking the new FluMist combo H1N1 and seasonal flu vaccination, simply because it had just come in and my daughter was conveniently both in the office and six days above the minimum age, I rolled the idea around in my head for a bit and gave an unenthusiastic "yes."
(I did also call my husband and ask his opinion... and finally I asked the NP whether there was "any reason I should not do this." Husband answered "I have no opinion either way" and NP said "I think you SHOULD do this.")
Two days before the appointment during which this all transpired, the little girl in question had had a ball playing in her snazzy new wading pool and drank a significant amount of water from the pool's little built-in fountain. The next day, two diapers worth of nasty loose motion led me to imagine that the warning on the hose wasn't kidding about E. coli bacteria. This I mentioned to both the nurse and the NP, but with no other symptoms it didn't go much further.
So child gets FluMist nasally and one shot, a dose of seasonal flu vaccine that she had apparently missed last year.
Fast forward to Friday. Child is a little listless, and hot. Eats next to nothing, but we carry on as usual because sometimes the day after a shot this happens. Cousins arrive, and she's excited to see them. A little off her game though.
Saturday: Child eats some Cheerios for breakfast, as would be expected by a 2-year old who has eaten next to nothing the previous day. Then she comes with us to Air Force Museum and gets carried around, then refuses to eat at lunch and acts like a grade-A nutjob, then goes home and remains feverish, needy, and just bad.
Sunday: On the mend, we think, until cousins leave and she bursts into flame and feels so hot we get a little worried... as usual fever lowers with medicine and we plan to see the doctor Monday. She cries and acts like a different child on and off.
Monday: sleeps in until 11:15am (later than her atypical but regular toddler-wake up hour of 9:30am), lays in bed watching Muppets til 1:30pm, and finally drinks two chocolate milks and eats some cereal before heading off to doctor appointment at 2:45.
When I called our old doctor's office to get the new office's number, I said we needed an appointment because my daughter was having a reaction to the FluMist she was given on Thursday. The receptionist said, "Oh, she must have come in with something before they gave it." The doctor swabbed her for strep throat and said she probably has a viral infection. No one took the Occam's razor approach and just thought, "Wow! She had a flu vaccination with a LIVE virus in it... and a day later she seems to get the flu!" Hey, dickheads... the damn CDC even says:
Some children and young adults 2-17 years of age have reported experiencing mild reactions after receiving nasal spray flu vaccine, including runny nose, nasal congestion or cough, chills, tiredness/weakness, sore throat and headache.Somewhere I had read appetite loss too. These are exactly E's symptoms. I don't see what the big fucking mystery is.
So, to summarize:
1.) I am disappointed with my pediatric care providers as a whole, for suggesting if not pushing this FluMist to a kid who had diarrhea and was only 6 days above the minimal age limit anyway, and then not even owning up to the possibility of it being a minor adverse reaction
2.) I am tired of having a sick kid, and am positive the kid is tired of being sick
3.) I do not suggest the FluMist vaccine unless your kid is over age 5 and healthy as a horse
I apologize for this post not being terribly interesting or even remotely funny, but I am pissed about this and needed somewhere to complain.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Statistical Goodness 3.0 - The Language Edition
The white board that was once dedicated to me jotting down Elena's achievements needs to be re-purposed, and so rather than find the baby book I will just archive the information here.
Starting at 6 months ("all finished" was recognized by the pediatrician during her 6 month appointment that she wanted "all finished" as soon as possible), she learned the following signs in something close to the order they're listed:
all finished
more
eat
dada
drink
cracker
diaper
bonka (grandma)
banana
water
milk
sleepy
thank you
fish
apple
bird
cat
horse
dog
"big uh-oh" (or "poopy" - a made-up sign taught by Aunt Kathy and Grandma just after her first birthday consisting of holding her nose)
book
airplane
car
soap
"wash hands"
boat
train
cookie
yogurt
hot
blanket
"change diaper"
bath
bike
noodles
hot
Signs we had wanted to learn, but never did: cold, medicine, doctor, cow, sheep, pig, cheese
Words - her first words were "Dada" and "dog" at 10 months, followed by:
"bebe" (baby)
mama
thank you ("taaaankoo")
broccoli (16 months)
ball
"Bye mama" (first 2 word phrase at 17 months, often closely followed by)
"go go" (17 months - would stand in front of gate, armed with some sort of bag, urging me, I suppose, to take her somewhere fun)
down (which also meant up for the longest time)
doctor (at 18 month appointment, which flattered the doctor)
"Bro!" (circa fall 2009, one of the few people who would text message Sebastian was Brian, the singer of their band. He calls everyone "bro" and when the text message tone would sound, Saby would duly check and announce in exaggerated imitation of Brian, that it was "Broooooo-w". Somewhere Elena picked up on this and began yelling "Bro!" anytime Saby's phone would ring, which much delighted us and ESPECIALLY Brian, who is still known as Bro to her to this day.)
On our India trip, she learned "Caca" (Malayalam for crow, and very onomatopoeic, no?) and "palli", Malayalam name for the salamander-sized house lizards that abound everywhere except my mother-in-law's house
First three word phrase: "I do it" (learned from buddy Sophia while on the playground July 3rd)
She then had one that involved "mama. eating. ______." more, perhaps? I need to decrease my appetite, apparently, if it's that obvious to a 22 month old.
Other notable combinations include:
Complimentary mentions of her friends. "Pretty baby Micah" was a shout out to the beautiful baby sister of best friend "Fee-ya" (Sophia) And calling her buddy Andy "Fee-ya" meant she loved him just as much. Her boyfriend Gabriel was known as "Maeee" and then "Maeeeeb," and finally is just regular but much beloved "Gabe" now.
"two, two pacis." at some point in Spring of 2010, her obsession with the number two (and therefore object plurality, I suppose) led her to request two pacis every night. This became a requirement for her to be comfortable enough to go to bed. We indulged it until her 2nd birthday and still do on occasional "tough" nights
Along those same lines, "waaaaaan [one], TWO! waaan two WAAAN [etc.] I told Saby she was counting in binary code and he corrected me... binary is 0 and 1; she was counting in tertiary.
"moush! eating!" her name and description of current favorite movie, Ratatouille, recorded on the DVR. She knows where all the commercials are (asking me, "Mo', moush?" a few seconds before the break comes and then describing what comes after the break - "moush. egg! coo-king." or "dada. ego." [she thinks one of the cooks looks like Dada, and another oft-referenced character is Anton Ego])
"pretty ________" insert any word she knows. Pretty penguins. Pretty Momma. Pretty Dada. Pretty necknace (necklace)
"Yesh, ma'am. Yesh, Way-cha" (Yes ma'am, yes Rachel) After spending two days during our move with our friend (who hails from the Deep South) Rachel May, Elena came back a polite little belle. But any "yes ma'am" was always accompanied by a nod to her etiquette coach, "yes Way-cha".
Perhaps our all time favorite, that we never correct in hopes that she'll go to college mispronouncing it... "O-PONSH" It means "open" and has a very wide variety of uses... opening doors, unbuckling seatbelts, unscrewing lids, turning on the water faucet, taking off a diaper. She will ask you to "oponsh" (take off) your bracelet so that she can wear it... proving all that gypsy training paid off!
Starting at 6 months ("all finished" was recognized by the pediatrician during her 6 month appointment that she wanted "all finished" as soon as possible), she learned the following signs in something close to the order they're listed:
all finished
more
eat
dada
drink
cracker
diaper
bonka (grandma)
banana
water
milk
sleepy
thank you
fish
apple
bird
cat
horse
dog
"big uh-oh" (or "poopy" - a made-up sign taught by Aunt Kathy and Grandma just after her first birthday consisting of holding her nose)
book
airplane
car
soap
"wash hands"
boat
train
cookie
yogurt
hot
blanket
"change diaper"
bath
bike
noodles
hot
Signs we had wanted to learn, but never did: cold, medicine, doctor, cow, sheep, pig, cheese
Words - her first words were "Dada" and "dog" at 10 months, followed by:
"bebe" (baby)
mama
thank you ("taaaankoo")
broccoli (16 months)
ball
"Bye mama" (first 2 word phrase at 17 months, often closely followed by)
"go go" (17 months - would stand in front of gate, armed with some sort of bag, urging me, I suppose, to take her somewhere fun)
down (which also meant up for the longest time)
doctor (at 18 month appointment, which flattered the doctor)
"Bro!" (circa fall 2009, one of the few people who would text message Sebastian was Brian, the singer of their band. He calls everyone "bro" and when the text message tone would sound, Saby would duly check and announce in exaggerated imitation of Brian, that it was "Broooooo-w". Somewhere Elena picked up on this and began yelling "Bro!" anytime Saby's phone would ring, which much delighted us and ESPECIALLY Brian, who is still known as Bro to her to this day.)
On our India trip, she learned "Caca" (Malayalam for crow, and very onomatopoeic, no?) and "palli", Malayalam name for the salamander-sized house lizards that abound everywhere except my mother-in-law's house
First three word phrase: "I do it" (learned from buddy Sophia while on the playground July 3rd)
She then had one that involved "mama. eating. ______." more, perhaps? I need to decrease my appetite, apparently, if it's that obvious to a 22 month old.
Other notable combinations include:
Complimentary mentions of her friends. "Pretty baby Micah" was a shout out to the beautiful baby sister of best friend "Fee-ya" (Sophia) And calling her buddy Andy "Fee-ya" meant she loved him just as much. Her boyfriend Gabriel was known as "Maeee" and then "Maeeeeb," and finally is just regular but much beloved "Gabe" now.
"two, two pacis." at some point in Spring of 2010, her obsession with the number two (and therefore object plurality, I suppose) led her to request two pacis every night. This became a requirement for her to be comfortable enough to go to bed. We indulged it until her 2nd birthday and still do on occasional "tough" nights
Along those same lines, "waaaaaan [one], TWO! waaan two WAAAN [etc.] I told Saby she was counting in binary code and he corrected me... binary is 0 and 1; she was counting in tertiary.
"moush! eating!" her name and description of current favorite movie, Ratatouille, recorded on the DVR. She knows where all the commercials are (asking me, "Mo', moush?" a few seconds before the break comes and then describing what comes after the break - "moush. egg! coo-king." or "dada. ego." [she thinks one of the cooks looks like Dada, and another oft-referenced character is Anton Ego])
"pretty ________" insert any word she knows. Pretty penguins. Pretty Momma. Pretty Dada. Pretty necknace (necklace)
"Yesh, ma'am. Yesh, Way-cha" (Yes ma'am, yes Rachel) After spending two days during our move with our friend (who hails from the Deep South) Rachel May, Elena came back a polite little belle. But any "yes ma'am" was always accompanied by a nod to her etiquette coach, "yes Way-cha".
Perhaps our all time favorite, that we never correct in hopes that she'll go to college mispronouncing it... "O-PONSH" It means "open" and has a very wide variety of uses... opening doors, unbuckling seatbelts, unscrewing lids, turning on the water faucet, taking off a diaper. She will ask you to "oponsh" (take off) your bracelet so that she can wear it... proving all that gypsy training paid off!
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I have a two year old
I have a two year old!
Her name is E-Unit. She is the prototype for many more Units who have speculated launch dates of fall 2011, 2013 and perhaps even 2015. So far, and especially for being a first model, I've very pleased with how she's performed.
She sleeps well, sleeps lots, and goes down without drama. Eats decently. Poos and pees consistently with minimal leakage. Our model has a few upgrades, like immodestly good coordination and a penchant for singing. Our favorite upgrade? She has RHYTHM... I swear to God, she can keep a beat after 24 months on this earth. These features and upgrades seem to be just as novel and entertaining for her as they are to us; much like when she was 4 and 5 months old and thrilled with the realization of various structural design aspects like her hands and feet.
We've logged quite a few miles with the E-unit, having been to Michigan at 6 weeks, Chicago at 4 months, Florida at 10 months, and India at 19 months. Each varying terrain and climate has been handled phenomenally by the Unit - although the India trip proved that the E-units ideal operating temperature is probably somewhere below 90 degrees Fahrenheit. With proper upkeep and maintenance, our E-Unit seems ready to tackle any challenge we put before her.
We are not without bugs and flaws in our system, though. As she neared her second year of life, the E-Unit has been plagued with minor problems. Irritations namely, but together they do bring down her (and therefore, our family's) efficiency level. She's been making a strange sound a lot... "No." "No no no no no no." It can be provoked by user error - asking a question, offering something, or even just a statement can result in hearing this annoying sound. Luckily we've realized that sufficient nourishment, lubrication, cleaning and entertainment can lower the frequency of this problem.
I have to say, in all honesty [and no modesty, har har har], that I think many people envy our E-Unit. But that's the thing they don't understand. ANYONE can have an E-Unit. With proper research and a good, thorough instruction manual, any Unit rolling off the assembly line, provided it's a factory utilizing good materials and a quality workforce, can be as good or better than ours.
Happy birthday, E-Unit! Keep on rollin' strong!
Her name is E-Unit. She is the prototype for many more Units who have speculated launch dates of fall 2011, 2013 and perhaps even 2015. So far, and especially for being a first model, I've very pleased with how she's performed.
She sleeps well, sleeps lots, and goes down without drama. Eats decently. Poos and pees consistently with minimal leakage. Our model has a few upgrades, like immodestly good coordination and a penchant for singing. Our favorite upgrade? She has RHYTHM... I swear to God, she can keep a beat after 24 months on this earth. These features and upgrades seem to be just as novel and entertaining for her as they are to us; much like when she was 4 and 5 months old and thrilled with the realization of various structural design aspects like her hands and feet.
We've logged quite a few miles with the E-unit, having been to Michigan at 6 weeks, Chicago at 4 months, Florida at 10 months, and India at 19 months. Each varying terrain and climate has been handled phenomenally by the Unit - although the India trip proved that the E-units ideal operating temperature is probably somewhere below 90 degrees Fahrenheit. With proper upkeep and maintenance, our E-Unit seems ready to tackle any challenge we put before her.
We are not without bugs and flaws in our system, though. As she neared her second year of life, the E-Unit has been plagued with minor problems. Irritations namely, but together they do bring down her (and therefore, our family's) efficiency level. She's been making a strange sound a lot... "No." "No no no no no no." It can be provoked by user error - asking a question, offering something, or even just a statement can result in hearing this annoying sound. Luckily we've realized that sufficient nourishment, lubrication, cleaning and entertainment can lower the frequency of this problem.
I have to say, in all honesty [and no modesty, har har har], that I think many people envy our E-Unit. But that's the thing they don't understand. ANYONE can have an E-Unit. With proper research and a good, thorough instruction manual, any Unit rolling off the assembly line, provided it's a factory utilizing good materials and a quality workforce, can be as good or better than ours.
Happy birthday, E-Unit! Keep on rollin' strong!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Holy crap, people read this?
I'm gonna start chargin' all two or three of you money. You must have some excellent notification set up to let you know when I post, because it's certainly not at any regular interval. Maybe ever few days after NEVAAAAH?
God bless you, Liz and Kim, and perhaps Kristine?
God bless you, Liz and Kim, and perhaps Kristine?
The beginning of a long musical career...
I caught E and Dada playing guitar together. It's especially impressive because of a.) the patience and enthusiasm of both student and teacher, and b.) Daddy's willingness to have his diaper-less daughter sit on his lap so close to a borrowed gee-tar.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Transcript from the monitor
On more neglectful mornings (like today) when I sit in bed, creeping around on Facebook and reading the news, I hear lots of interesting things over Elena's monitor. She certainly knows how to keep me (and herself) entertained.
No No No No
Do-a-doo (do a deer from The Sound of Music)
Bon-kaaaa? (calling for her grandma)
Daaaad... daaad! (daddy in a valley girl accent)
Humming "I'd like to stay and taste my first champagne" (more Sound of Music)
Monkey? Monkey? (which leads me to believe she's about to throw her monkey across the room)
Bebe? Bebebe? Bye-bye... (uh oh)
Yum yum (pretending to eat?)
Hey-yo? Hellooo? Hii, hiiiii...
Daa-daaaaa! Dada? Dadadadadada?
all manners of fake coughing and sneezing (attempts to get me to show up?)
On previous occasions, we've heard:
Baby DOWWWWN!
Cat, dog and cow noises
Pullli! (calling for her lizard)
Up, up up... (and then) Dowwwwn! Doooowwwwwn!
No No No No
Do-a-doo (do a deer from The Sound of Music)
Bon-kaaaa? (calling for her grandma)
Daaaad... daaad! (daddy in a valley girl accent)
Humming "I'd like to stay and taste my first champagne" (more Sound of Music)
Monkey? Monkey? (which leads me to believe she's about to throw her monkey across the room)
Bebe? Bebebe? Bye-bye... (uh oh)
Yum yum (pretending to eat?)
Hey-yo? Hellooo? Hii, hiiiii...
Daa-daaaaa! Dada? Dadadadadada?
all manners of fake coughing and sneezing (attempts to get me to show up?)
On previous occasions, we've heard:
Baby DOWWWWN!
Cat, dog and cow noises
Pullli! (calling for her lizard)
Up, up up... (and then) Dowwwwn! Doooowwwwwn!
Open Letter to My Friend, Fellow Bloggerette, and Fellow Mother-o'-Toddler Kim
I suck as a conspiracy partner.
Mainly because I can't even remember the proper terminology. A... responsibility partner? Reinforcement partner? Reliability? What is it I'm supposed to be, yet have neither fully understood nor taken any initiative to actually participate? But perhaps I can blame that on you, since you're the ying to my yang that's supposed to be either prodding me with a stick, or dangling that yummy carrot out in front :-)
Well, all that aside, here's what I've been thinking about lately.
A.) Your photos rock, and you and the fam are looking great. Between the cool photographer shots and the simple "who wears it better," I must say that we Georges really enjoy a chance to look at you guys from afar and see how you all are flourishing among the bluebelles of Texas.
B.) I want to be cool and join in on Twitter parties for book reading and all, but I lack a mobile device that's Twitter-capable and hate sitting in front of the laptop (or worse, sitting the laptop on my lady parts with just a pillow to disperse the radiation). Someday I will catch up with 2008 technology, I swear. C.) Gotta get Skype. That's just silly on my part to not have it yet. Maybe my parents actually taking an interest in Elena will help me keep motivated on that one. (Motivation partner?!? Is that it?)
D.) The DCI Championships are coming up soon here, and I will miss you. I told Saby that he has to come for at least one night's worth (I know he'll love it!). I'm not sure what I am going to do with Miss Elena without a stroller, but I suppose we can keep her from running onto the performance area somehow. (after a recent collision with the tv stand during Do-Re-Mi from The Sound of Music, I don't know what all this kid will do to get herself involved in interesting musical situations!) Perhaps if Miss Juniper were there to clap and hoot along with her, she'd behave better?
E.) I still have a present for you from India, and the only thing keeping me from getting it to you is my huge dislike of the post office. I apologize. Soon... perhaps today! (Motivation partner? IS THAT IT?!?)
F.) What does Juniper say? Does she use words? Does she mimic you? What are her tricks? Elena is very good with her P's and Q's, but takes the "please" to the extreme. God forbid she offers another child something and they don't take it... you look away for a minute and suddenly she's beating them over the head, yelling "bleese? BLEESE?" Not that I want her to beat Juniper over the head (although I have a feeling J'pop can fight back with the best of 'em) but I do want to hear what endearing-yet-horrifying sort of stories you might have, so that I don't feel alone in the mildly entertained/embarassed motherhood world.
G.) Would LOVE LOVE LUUUUUV to read this with you: http://hotair.com/archives/2010/04/13/book-review-a-time-to-betray/
H.) You're very cool, Kim. Very much a kindred spirit, and I don't want to lose touch with you because it seems so much potential for awesome friendship is there. While we only knew each other in person for like 5 months or something, just knowing you're out there in the world does provide motivation of some sort to write, to communicate, to hopefully visit someday, etc. I dropped the ball on BlogHer but maybe I can catch the ball on the rebound for next year... you'll have to tell me how it goes. I'll live vicariously through you until I get the enthu to get off my can :-)
Which leads me to say I must go and get outta bed and into the shower. Not sure if Elena went back to sleep, or if she's just playing in her crib, silently lighting matches and eating sharp rusty metal. But better make hay while the child sleeps or however that saying goes.
God speed and God bless you, my partner-in-crime!
Lina
Mainly because I can't even remember the proper terminology. A... responsibility partner? Reinforcement partner? Reliability? What is it I'm supposed to be, yet have neither fully understood nor taken any initiative to actually participate? But perhaps I can blame that on you, since you're the ying to my yang that's supposed to be either prodding me with a stick, or dangling that yummy carrot out in front :-)
Well, all that aside, here's what I've been thinking about lately.
A.) Your photos rock, and you and the fam are looking great. Between the cool photographer shots and the simple "who wears it better," I must say that we Georges really enjoy a chance to look at you guys from afar and see how you all are flourishing among the bluebelles of Texas.
B.) I want to be cool and join in on Twitter parties for book reading and all, but I lack a mobile device that's Twitter-capable and hate sitting in front of the laptop (or worse, sitting the laptop on my lady parts with just a pillow to disperse the radiation). Someday I will catch up with 2008 technology, I swear. C.) Gotta get Skype. That's just silly on my part to not have it yet. Maybe my parents actually taking an interest in Elena will help me keep motivated on that one. (Motivation partner?!? Is that it?)
D.) The DCI Championships are coming up soon here, and I will miss you. I told Saby that he has to come for at least one night's worth (I know he'll love it!). I'm not sure what I am going to do with Miss Elena without a stroller, but I suppose we can keep her from running onto the performance area somehow. (after a recent collision with the tv stand during Do-Re-Mi from The Sound of Music, I don't know what all this kid will do to get herself involved in interesting musical situations!) Perhaps if Miss Juniper were there to clap and hoot along with her, she'd behave better?
E.) I still have a present for you from India, and the only thing keeping me from getting it to you is my huge dislike of the post office. I apologize. Soon... perhaps today! (Motivation partner? IS THAT IT?!?)
F.) What does Juniper say? Does she use words? Does she mimic you? What are her tricks? Elena is very good with her P's and Q's, but takes the "please" to the extreme. God forbid she offers another child something and they don't take it... you look away for a minute and suddenly she's beating them over the head, yelling "bleese? BLEESE?" Not that I want her to beat Juniper over the head (although I have a feeling J'pop can fight back with the best of 'em) but I do want to hear what endearing-yet-horrifying sort of stories you might have, so that I don't feel alone in the mildly entertained/embarassed motherhood world.
G.) Would LOVE LOVE LUUUUUV to read this with you: http://hotair.com/archives/2010/04/13/book-review-a-time-to-betray/
H.) You're very cool, Kim. Very much a kindred spirit, and I don't want to lose touch with you because it seems so much potential for awesome friendship is there. While we only knew each other in person for like 5 months or something, just knowing you're out there in the world does provide motivation of some sort to write, to communicate, to hopefully visit someday, etc. I dropped the ball on BlogHer but maybe I can catch the ball on the rebound for next year... you'll have to tell me how it goes. I'll live vicariously through you until I get the enthu to get off my can :-)
Which leads me to say I must go and get outta bed and into the shower. Not sure if Elena went back to sleep, or if she's just playing in her crib, silently lighting matches and eating sharp rusty metal. But better make hay while the child sleeps or however that saying goes.
God speed and God bless you, my partner-in-crime!
Lina
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