WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH [gasp] BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? I DEMAND ANSWERS. Damn you, space-time continuum and your ! And don't even get me started on your ! [shakes angry fist] Physics: It's taking our children away from us. IT MUST BE STOPPED. Anyone else up for a Bloody Mary this morning? sigh.
(Incidentally, you really really need to go see "Up." Those Pixar folk have a direct line into the soft white underbelly of my psyche's most tender parts or something. It's almost eerie.) (Was Doug a Golden Retriever? I want a Doug. Truman's more like a mischievous elf or gnome dressed up in a dog suit -- hardly a dog, really. I tell him to sit and he practically rolls his...
Me: So tomorrow morning you can have some of these chocolate chip waffles. Her: What if I don't like them? Me: M, you'll like them. They're chocolate chip waffles. Her: But what if I don't? Me: Then we'll have to return you, because you're clearly defective. Her: Mom. You can't return me. Me: Are you sure? Because I think I remember a chocolate chip waffle clause that would allow us...
The Bring Your Daughter To Work day portrait: Sparkly pink Converse ballet flats: that's how we roll, holmes. (Also of note here: that purple bag she's holding is a prototype for a line made by my Aunt's company TerraCycle, which fashions everything it sells from recycled materials (like those juice pouches), but is perhaps best known for their fine worm poop products (no, seriously, their fertilizers are made from worm...
From the time that M was a baby up through her preschool years, I was, in her eyes -- and I hope you won't think me arrogant for saying so -- kind of a big deal. I suppose it's true for many babies and very young children that Mommy is the center of the known universe, and doubly true when the mother elects to stay at home with her child...
So today marks a milestone of sorts. See, a couple of months back we bought M a used Mac G4 Tower from Jamie's work (it's sort of a ridiculous amount of computer for a 6 year old, but I guess she'll grow in to that 80 GBs, right?). Anyway, it's been collecting dust in the corner of her playroom because setting it up would mean me dismantling my old G4...
All day, like many of you, I've been thinking about one thing. And all day I've hesitated to write about it. But putting words to things is who I am, and I can't not be who I am. So. I'm not a good friend of the Spohrs, and I didn't closely follow the progress of their daughter Maddie, lost to them just a few short hours ago. Heather is someone...
SAD FACE.Well, to look on the bright side of things, it could be worse: MUCH MUCH WORSE. During our soul-crushing 50 gajillion hour visit to the ER yesterday I came to the sad conclusion that in real life the ER is SO not at all sexy like on those sexy doctor shows (you know, like "Sexy ER" and "Sexy House." Oh and let's not forget "Grey's Sexy Anatomy."). In fact,...
Struggling with depression again as I have been a bit lately, I've come to finally accept something about myself: I really don't possess the selflessness necessary for this being-a-mother thing. (And yes, I know I swore off harping on motherhood here, but it's my life and my blog and I'll do what I want and suck it.) Depression has magnified this lack, I think. Or perhaps I'm just more aware...
M: "Mom! MOM!!!" Me: "Yeeesss?" M: "Did you know that the first people ever borned, the first humans, that they were ANIMALS?" Me: "Uhh...we're still animals." M: [nervous, uncertain laughter] Me: "We evolved. From other animals that lived before us. We're sort of like... monkeys. LIKE SUPER MONKEYS." Evolution 101. Super Monkeys. Tell your friends.
I'm a geeky Gen-X writer from Baltimore. I believe in early afternoon cocktails, the greatness of Jon Stewart, and that being a smartass is a virtue. More about me...