To my neighbor, who insists on mowing his lawn to the height of indoor/outdoor carpet--
IT IS NOVEMBER! Stop mowing your lawn. Cause I am not mowing mine again. I don't care if it looks like an African savannah in my front yard and I look out and see cheetahs darting across my property. I'm just not feeling the mowing love.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
Friday, November 04, 2005
Why I like where I live
This is for Amy.
1. Changing leaves in the fall
2. Being able to run by a lake
3. Great restaurants
4. Historically rich
5. Proximity to vineyards
6. Convenience of the city
7. Diversity of neighborhood
8. Great friends
1. Changing leaves in the fall
2. Being able to run by a lake
3. Great restaurants
4. Historically rich
5. Proximity to vineyards
6. Convenience of the city
7. Diversity of neighborhood
8. Great friends
Thursday, November 03, 2005
I just might be able to get into this whole Sesame Street thing
I'm not sure, but I think the Boo is the only baby in America that cannot be bothered with Baby Einstein videos. You know, those dumb ass videos involving overpriced toys being played with by hand puppets, all to the classics. I guess he won't be getting those extra 30 IQ points that supposedly come along with watching the videos.
Don't get me wrong. The kid will watch TV. Senate Confirmation Hearings, yes. Food for Oil scandal stories on CNN, yes. Mansfield Park, yes. Little puppets dancing to Bach, no dice.
But desperate times call for desperate measures. I mean, how steady will the confirmation hearings be? Long enough for me to vacuum while Ted Kennedy's colossal head captivates my infant and maintains his rapt attention? What about the dusting? Forget about the dusting. What about next month when I have to vacuum again?
So I started to TiVo Sesame Street. It has lots to offer. I learned my first Beatles song thanks to Sesame Street.
"Letter B, letter B, letter B, letter B. She whispers "Buh-buh-buh means Letter B."
When I turned it on the other day (after my approximate 28 year sabbatical), I got the 2003 rerun with the Goo Goo Dolls singing "Pride," to the tune of one of my all-time favorites, "Slide."
(Sung by Johnny) Elmo, whisper in my ear,
I really wanna hear,
The things you did today
That satisfied you...
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo reached the highest shelf,
He got dressed by himself,
And Elmo wants to say
He's filled with pride, yeah!
(Sung by Johnny) When you've done the best you could,
You feel really, really good!
You're feelin' that pride!
Yeah, gonna feel that pride...
You helped your mother bake a pie,
You fell and didn't cry,
You made your bed and said
Your ABC's
(Sung by Elmo)Elmo learned to tie his shoe,
He added two and two,
Elmo drank up all his milk
And ate his peas!
(Sung by Johnny) When you've done the best you could,
You feel really, really good!
You're feelin' that pride!
Ooh, pride...
And you can be the monster that you
Dreamed you'd always be.
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo's feelin' that nothing can stop him!
(Sung by Johnny) Elmo nothing is beyond you,
Let those good thoughts fill your head,
You are furry, proud and red!
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo...no one can top him!
(Sung by Johnny) And he's so proud!
(Sung by John) Be the best that you can be...
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo is so proud of ME!
Nothing like Johnny Rzeznik to take a song about a knocked up girl and remake it into a song that uses the line "You're furry, proud and red."
D came in as I was playing it for the millionth time. In fact, the last time I watched a scene this many times was the volleyball scene in Top Gun (thank you, Rick Rossovich, aka "Slider"). I felt like I just been caught pulling my underwear out of my butt at church.
Thank you, Johnny, for reminding me that I can be the monster I always dreamed that I could be.
Don't get me wrong. The kid will watch TV. Senate Confirmation Hearings, yes. Food for Oil scandal stories on CNN, yes. Mansfield Park, yes. Little puppets dancing to Bach, no dice.
But desperate times call for desperate measures. I mean, how steady will the confirmation hearings be? Long enough for me to vacuum while Ted Kennedy's colossal head captivates my infant and maintains his rapt attention? What about the dusting? Forget about the dusting. What about next month when I have to vacuum again?
So I started to TiVo Sesame Street. It has lots to offer. I learned my first Beatles song thanks to Sesame Street.
"Letter B, letter B, letter B, letter B. She whispers "Buh-buh-buh means Letter B."
When I turned it on the other day (after my approximate 28 year sabbatical), I got the 2003 rerun with the Goo Goo Dolls singing "Pride," to the tune of one of my all-time favorites, "Slide."
(Sung by Johnny) Elmo, whisper in my ear,
I really wanna hear,
The things you did today
That satisfied you...
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo reached the highest shelf,
He got dressed by himself,
And Elmo wants to say
He's filled with pride, yeah!
(Sung by Johnny) When you've done the best you could,
You feel really, really good!
You're feelin' that pride!
Yeah, gonna feel that pride...
You helped your mother bake a pie,
You fell and didn't cry,
You made your bed and said
Your ABC's
(Sung by Elmo)Elmo learned to tie his shoe,
He added two and two,
Elmo drank up all his milk
And ate his peas!
(Sung by Johnny) When you've done the best you could,
You feel really, really good!
You're feelin' that pride!
Ooh, pride...
And you can be the monster that you
Dreamed you'd always be.
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo's feelin' that nothing can stop him!
(Sung by Johnny) Elmo nothing is beyond you,
Let those good thoughts fill your head,
You are furry, proud and red!
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo...no one can top him!
(Sung by Johnny) And he's so proud!
(Sung by John) Be the best that you can be...
(Sung by Elmo) Elmo is so proud of ME!
Nothing like Johnny Rzeznik to take a song about a knocked up girl and remake it into a song that uses the line "You're furry, proud and red."
D came in as I was playing it for the millionth time. In fact, the last time I watched a scene this many times was the volleyball scene in Top Gun (thank you, Rick Rossovich, aka "Slider"). I felt like I just been caught pulling my underwear out of my butt at church.
Thank you, Johnny, for reminding me that I can be the monster I always dreamed that I could be.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
"Low Points of the Day" or "how-I-contemplated-suicide-at-least-a-dozen-times"
1. Asked D if we could have a Christmas party this year...
(can you hear the cricket chirping?)
What the hell is it about men that make them think that if they don't even acknowledge that a question has been asked, then they can pretend it never was actually asked. I could actually hear the wheels churning in his head--
K: You are totally trying to come up with a way to say "no" that will not succeed in making me think that we MUST have a party and now I should invite twice as many people as I had originally planned.
D: Sort of???
2. Asked the electrician (who had the audacity to show up at my house 45 minutes early when D was still home--kind of blew my whole "baby, I fixed the electrical problem" story that I had concocted) if I had managed to get it close to right with the 3 way switch, outlets and hardwiring the lights over the cabinets.
E: Ah, no.
Well, you can kiss your tip goodbye there, David.
3. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND COUNTRY, could someone please explain why the hell I cook a gourmet dinner every day and my child insists on finding every stray piece of dog food which then ends up in his mouth? The monster doesn't want to eat the butternut squash that I so kindly ROASTED for him, but he'll eat the damn Lamb and Rice dog food. Dog food--parts of parts of animals. I put the dog food away and still the kid manages to find a piece. Make that 4 pieces today. Every time I catch him, I throw up a little in my mouth. And why the hell can't the DAMN DOG find the stray pieces? What is his friggin' contribution to this family if he can't even keep his food out of the baby's mouth?
(can you hear the cricket chirping?)
What the hell is it about men that make them think that if they don't even acknowledge that a question has been asked, then they can pretend it never was actually asked. I could actually hear the wheels churning in his head--
K: You are totally trying to come up with a way to say "no" that will not succeed in making me think that we MUST have a party and now I should invite twice as many people as I had originally planned.
D: Sort of???
2. Asked the electrician (who had the audacity to show up at my house 45 minutes early when D was still home--kind of blew my whole "baby, I fixed the electrical problem" story that I had concocted) if I had managed to get it close to right with the 3 way switch, outlets and hardwiring the lights over the cabinets.
E: Ah, no.
Well, you can kiss your tip goodbye there, David.
3. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD AND COUNTRY, could someone please explain why the hell I cook a gourmet dinner every day and my child insists on finding every stray piece of dog food which then ends up in his mouth? The monster doesn't want to eat the butternut squash that I so kindly ROASTED for him, but he'll eat the damn Lamb and Rice dog food. Dog food--parts of parts of animals. I put the dog food away and still the kid manages to find a piece. Make that 4 pieces today. Every time I catch him, I throw up a little in my mouth. And why the hell can't the DAMN DOG find the stray pieces? What is his friggin' contribution to this family if he can't even keep his food out of the baby's mouth?
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Mama's got a new baby
For two days I have been waiting. Waiting for the FedEx man to arrive. For two days I have remained in this house, waiting, waiting, waiting. I have come to realize that I am really not a SAHM, as I thought, but a DGTARJM (Doesn't-Go-To-A-Real-Job-Mother). I realized this after Staying-At-Home for two days.
Reality is that I am never at home. I am forever dragging the Boo somewhere. I go out for one errand and suddenly I find myself the mother-version of Ferris Bueller--realizing it is 5 minutes 'til and I still have 10 blocks to go to beat D home. Flying through the side streets, praying that the train is running late and somehow, someway I will make it home before he does. Hoping that he doesn't see the steam from the front of the car as he walks past it. Leaping from the front door to the couch, over the dog. Kicking my shoes off as I go.
So this evening when D mentioned that there was a truck in front of the house, I went running outside, hopping around like a cheerleader at the Homecoming game. Much to the chagrin of the FedEx guy, I hopped onto the truck.
K: I have been WAITING for TWO days for you!!!!
FEG: You have? There was a mixup on the address.
K: I haven't LEFT MY HOUSE IN TWO DAYS AND I HAVE BABY!!! If you hadn't shown up tonight, I probably would have met your truck tomorrow with a gun. I was going CRAZY.
FEG: What are you waiting for?
K: My computer.
FEG: Well all I have for you is this little box.
K: That's my computer.
FEG: It can't be. The box is too small.
K: Watch.
With that, I took my brand new baby girl out of her box. And she looked like this...
I would like to thank the FedEx guy for sharing in my special moment. The birth of my baby girl Cookie.
Isn't she cute?
Monday, October 31, 2005
Best missed picture
The mother arm wrestling her round little girl to get her to release her grasp on the 11 pieces of candy she managed to grab with one hand from my candy bowl.
Round little girl won. Another win for childhood obesity in the US of A.
BEST LINE
The grown woman with the dog dressed as Batman.
"The candy is for my dog."
Cause that's what dogs eat--chocolate.
Round little girl won. Another win for childhood obesity in the US of A.
BEST LINE
The grown woman with the dog dressed as Batman.
"The candy is for my dog."
Cause that's what dogs eat--chocolate.
To fry or not to fry
I was quite the picky eater growing up. Canvas the extended family and you will find that every relative remembers the same scenario at every family party. Me and rolls and chips. I guess it was the rare situation when my mother just let me eat what I wanted.
So now the fight begins about what the Boo can and cannot eat. His father has been begging me for weeks now--"he NEEDS french fries." Yeah, like he needs a hole in his head. Then we'll become the people who take their kid to dinner and order a side of fries to go with our Dungeness Crab or our Alaskan Sockeye.
You know those people whose kids only eat french fries. Occasionally they'll eat a sugar-coated cereal for breakfast, but the mother spends twice a day in the McDonald's drive thru. I can't do it.
My fear is being that mother. I mean, it's a slippery slope. First it is a french fry for dinner and then the kid is mainlining waffle fries, steak fries, shoelace fries. I'll go up to his crib in the night to check on him and there will be a mound of french fries in that corner that he hoarded in his little chipmunk cheeks until he was able to free his stash (presumably for a late night snack).
This weekend the kid had his first fry. He also had his first asparagus. His reaction to each could have been interchangable. Mild interest.
There is a God and He loves me.
So now the fight begins about what the Boo can and cannot eat. His father has been begging me for weeks now--"he NEEDS french fries." Yeah, like he needs a hole in his head. Then we'll become the people who take their kid to dinner and order a side of fries to go with our Dungeness Crab or our Alaskan Sockeye.
You know those people whose kids only eat french fries. Occasionally they'll eat a sugar-coated cereal for breakfast, but the mother spends twice a day in the McDonald's drive thru. I can't do it.
My fear is being that mother. I mean, it's a slippery slope. First it is a french fry for dinner and then the kid is mainlining waffle fries, steak fries, shoelace fries. I'll go up to his crib in the night to check on him and there will be a mound of french fries in that corner that he hoarded in his little chipmunk cheeks until he was able to free his stash (presumably for a late night snack).
This weekend the kid had his first fry. He also had his first asparagus. His reaction to each could have been interchangable. Mild interest.
There is a God and He loves me.
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