We had an interesting discussion today at work among my colleagues who also teach kids with social/emotional/behavioral issues (most of them using Positive Discipline, the method I mentioned a few days ago). What do you when kids play guns at school?
I generally have a (outwardly) nonjudgmental, but firm "no guns at school" rule. Why? "Because they're not safe." "But it's just a pretend gun!" "Yeah, but guns scare me, so I don't even like pretending."
Not a terribly unique way of handling things, I admit. Basic Standard Liberal Hippie Teacher Procedure.
Another teacher said that he used to do the same thing, plus have rules about no toy weapons from home, etc., etc. He used to redirect kids during any sort of shoot-em-up play. But he eventually got tired of constantly monitoring these kids' play so that he can nip it in the bud. Plus, as others pointed out, it seems to be unending. Kids (and, for a myriad of reasons that can be debated, especially boy-type kids) play imaginary guns. You can limit their exposure, you can watch their playmates, you can monitor their TV time, and little boys will still point a stick at someone and say "blam." And the other guy falls down, then gets up and shoots you and you fall down. Then you all get up and go play something else. Probably something loud and possibly equally violent, maybe involving that apple juice that you've already had enough of today, mister. And the world goes on, no harm, no foul.
And that's the typical kids, kids from functional homes with parents who provide adequate supervision. Then you get our kids, the ones who already have such screwy ideas about how the world works, and whose parents have some ideas that are screwy in their own right. One of the kids in my class has been talking about zombies, blood, and shooting his friends at school. He's four. He told us all about this video game called Call of Duty (my assistant muttered that her 19-year-old son had nightmares after his first time playing it). I called the mom, who said that the kid wasn't playing it, but that he was sometime around as she and her brother-in-law played it. Then she said, wonderingly, that the kid seemed more anxious at night and was wanting the light on all the time...sigh. The next time he came to school, he was upset because he'd rather be at home, playing Halo on his Xbox. So for this kid, this four-year-old for whom violent video games are something he does for fun and something his mom and uncle do for fun...what does he think when I give him the message that he, his mom, and his uncle are wrong?
For all of these reasons, my colleague said that he's adopted a different philosophy about this lately. He still says no toy guns, no weapon toys from home, but if kids insist on playing shooting games, he insists that they engage in a conversation with him about how the games will be played. He then leads them through a discussion where they come up with rules (a big part of Positive Discipline is the idea that kids are more motivated to cooperate if they are involved in the process of making rules) like, "No shooting someone who's not playing the game." And, if they break the rules they've agreed to, then that's it for the game for the day.
I dunno. I have a pretty strong reaction to seeing little kids shoot each other. But is that just my own liberal hippiness making me a Judgy McJudgerton? Or am I just seeing it in the context of today's world? Would I be bothered by a film of kids from the 50s playing Cowboys and Indians? And while I do think it's different for my kids, kids who tend to be emotionally volatile to begin with, what right do I have to tell them they can't play a certain way?
Of course, all of our thinking and philosophizing has nothing on a kid's simple reasoning skills. Earlier this week, a kid was pointing his fingers like a gun and shooting at things. I gave him my "no guns at school" rap, but he wasn't convinced:
Kid: "But I want to play hide and shoot them."
Me: "I get that, but we don't allow guns at school. You could still hide and maybe use something else."
Kid: "Like what?"
Me: "A lasso? A laser?"
Kid (looks at his hand, still crooked into "gun" pose): "I don't have a laser."
Me: *facepalm*
Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Attention, Googlers...
I'm going to just pass along a little bit of absurdity from my life to yours.
For a reason I can't quite remember right now, I was struck with an impulsive need to learn more about the movie Dead Calm. I went to imdb.com like a good little internet monkey, and confirmed that yes, that was Nicole Kidman on the movie poster, back when she looked...more human. Not that she's not gorgeous now, but--whether it's plastic surgery or magical unicorn placenta creams or what--this was when she had an earthy beauty rather than...a waxen sheen, let's say.
Anyway, because I'd never seen the movie, I clicked on the plot synopsis out of idle curiosity. Go ahead and check it out; I'll wait.
(whistles innocently)
I KNOW!!!!
"Rae begins to quiver and close her eyes in a pleasing fashion"? And later, she "firmly wraps her arms and legs around Hughie and readies herself for sex"? Is it just me, or is this synopsis more like, well, porn? Vaguely ESL porn?
I mean, I haven't seen the movie, so I dunno...maybe this sex scene was really amazing and you got to see naughty bits and everything, but...really? Don't get me wrong, this isn't a moral outrage, it's just...organizational prudishness. If you want to write erotica, go write erotica, but leave poor imdb.com alone. Think of the children! (I don't know what I mean by that, but it seems to be a good catch-all argument in cases like this.) Also, maybe go read some good erotica for some examples of better verbs than "mount" to describe human sex.
I tried to find other synopses by the same writers, but failed. I was curious if this was how they handled other movies (Jurassic Park: "...the Velociraptor's heart pounds beneath her ample, scaly breasts as the T Rex stands erect, his eyes gleaming with lust..."), or if this was a one-night stand. I shudder to think what they might write about, say, Basic Instinct (whose summary, actually, is quite factual and not at all titillating).
I gotta go wash out my eyes now.
(Hee...I got distracted in the middle of writing earlier and almost linked you to this instead, which is a great recipe from a great writer and has nothing to do with porn. Except maybe food porn.)
For a reason I can't quite remember right now, I was struck with an impulsive need to learn more about the movie Dead Calm. I went to imdb.com like a good little internet monkey, and confirmed that yes, that was Nicole Kidman on the movie poster, back when she looked...more human. Not that she's not gorgeous now, but--whether it's plastic surgery or magical unicorn placenta creams or what--this was when she had an earthy beauty rather than...a waxen sheen, let's say.
Anyway, because I'd never seen the movie, I clicked on the plot synopsis out of idle curiosity. Go ahead and check it out; I'll wait.
(whistles innocently)
I KNOW!!!!
"Rae begins to quiver and close her eyes in a pleasing fashion"? And later, she "firmly wraps her arms and legs around Hughie and readies herself for sex"? Is it just me, or is this synopsis more like, well, porn? Vaguely ESL porn?
I mean, I haven't seen the movie, so I dunno...maybe this sex scene was really amazing and you got to see naughty bits and everything, but...really? Don't get me wrong, this isn't a moral outrage, it's just...organizational prudishness. If you want to write erotica, go write erotica, but leave poor imdb.com alone. Think of the children! (I don't know what I mean by that, but it seems to be a good catch-all argument in cases like this.) Also, maybe go read some good erotica for some examples of better verbs than "mount" to describe human sex.
I tried to find other synopses by the same writers, but failed. I was curious if this was how they handled other movies (Jurassic Park: "...the Velociraptor's heart pounds beneath her ample, scaly breasts as the T Rex stands erect, his eyes gleaming with lust..."), or if this was a one-night stand. I shudder to think what they might write about, say, Basic Instinct (whose summary, actually, is quite factual and not at all titillating).
I gotta go wash out my eyes now.
(Hee...I got distracted in the middle of writing earlier and almost linked you to this instead, which is a great recipe from a great writer and has nothing to do with porn. Except maybe food porn.)
Sunday, January 17, 2010
In Which I Manage to Sneak a Karate Kid Reference in the Middle of a Parenting Philosophy Discussion
I'm about to start teaching a parenting class through work. It's called Positive Discipline and is based on a book written by Jane Nelson. It's the method that we use at work with our social/emotional/behavior kids and I. Freaking. Love. It. So much so that it is tempting for me to go off on some evangelical rant here about it, but I'll try to just outline the basics enough to be making sense here.
(Side note: ARGH. You know how, when you're trying to make a point, and some history or backstory is necessary for that point to be understood, so you edit, but even as you edit you're thinking, "But what about--?" Let's be kind and say that minimalism is not my strong suit, so bear with me here...)
The belief behind Positive Discipline is that all kids--well, all people, really--are driven by a desire for belonging and significance. That is, we all want to connect with others and feel like we matter. Simple, huh? OK, so the next idea is that children's misbehaviors are really misunderstood (by them and by adults) attempts at those two things. Still with me? Now it gets interesting: according to this model, punishments and rewards are only short-term solutions that may temporarily modify behaviors, but don't actually help the child reach either of those goals, and so aren't effective long-term. Or, they may be effective, but they teach the wrong things (e.g., doing homework to avoid punishment, rather than as a way to learn). So instead, misbehaviors are seen as mistaken beliefs (about how the world works), and the focus is on solutions to problems and teaching children the values we want them to learn long-term, rather than on simply extinguishing behaviors.
Have I oversimplified this? Vastly. There's a lot more to it than that, but what is on my mind lately is the PD theory on praise. Positive Discipline doesn't encourage praise. But wait, you say, isn't praise a good thing? Well, sort of. The thinking is that it's like candy--OK in small doses, but not as a steady diet. Instead of praise, PD advocates encouragement. Sounds like a matter of semantics, I know. The difference is that praise tends to express approval and judgment, whereas encouragement inspires, stimulates, and promotes. The locus of control in praise is external, versus encouragement, where it's internal.
Say, for example, that a kid brings over their finished painting. Praise would be, "You are such a good painter. I like the way you painted this house." Encouragement would be, "Thanks for sharing this with me. What is your favorite thing in the picture?" You get the idea--basically, if you can imagine Yoda or Mr. Miyagi saying it, it's probably encouragement.
When you teach this lesson in the class, you do a little role-play where you have one person receive praise statements like "You're such a good girl" and "I'm so proud of you" while the other person receives encouraging statements like "I love you no matter what" and "You must be proud of yourself." Usually, the person who receives the praise feels good at first, until they hear the other person's encouraging statements.
The first time I saw this exercise, I was quietly embarrassed. Because, while I totally got the point, I recognized that I still wanted the praise. Growing up, I was the quintessential Good Kid, and I got a lot of praise for that. And I loved it. I became what Nelson calls an "approval junkie." It wasn't enough if I liked what I had done, I needed someone else to like it, too.
Ahem. Dig me, using the past tense, as if this is no longer true.
I still really struggle with this, with looking inward rather than to others for validation. It makes MOTH crazy, because, as the person in nearest proximity, he is often who I turn to. Which makes me crazy, because he--being the opposite of an approval junkie--doesn't want me to need that approval, so he grants it grudgingly, which of course, doesn't count. And then I get frustrated because a) I know that I shouldn't need it, but b) I do, and you know it, so how's about we make with the praise, please?!
As Tankbaby becomes a Tanktoddler, I know that parenting is going to undergo a shift as well, from The Basics (provide love, food, shelter, safety) to Advanced (all of the above, plus Shaping Human Being). I hope that I can do as good a job as my parents did (oops...I mean that as a compliment to my parents, not to myself, though I can see how it could read that way...), plus make a few adjustments. One of those is not to create an approval junkie. But I also don't want him to go so far in the other direction that he doesn't care at all what other people think. I do think that independence can go too far and become isolation. MOTH is fiercely independent, and while I find it admirable, I also am driven batty by the fact that I often feel like he doesn't think about how it feels to be someone else. As I've said to him, "It's great that you don't care what anybody thinks, but sometimes that feels to me like you don't care what I think." (He reassures me that he does, of course.)
I'm sure that, with two parental extremes, we can reach a nice healthy middle ground for our boy, right? Oh, and without much conflict between the parents, if that's not too much to ask.
Also, I'd like a pony. That flies.
(Side note: ARGH. You know how, when you're trying to make a point, and some history or backstory is necessary for that point to be understood, so you edit, but even as you edit you're thinking, "But what about--?" Let's be kind and say that minimalism is not my strong suit, so bear with me here...)
The belief behind Positive Discipline is that all kids--well, all people, really--are driven by a desire for belonging and significance. That is, we all want to connect with others and feel like we matter. Simple, huh? OK, so the next idea is that children's misbehaviors are really misunderstood (by them and by adults) attempts at those two things. Still with me? Now it gets interesting: according to this model, punishments and rewards are only short-term solutions that may temporarily modify behaviors, but don't actually help the child reach either of those goals, and so aren't effective long-term. Or, they may be effective, but they teach the wrong things (e.g., doing homework to avoid punishment, rather than as a way to learn). So instead, misbehaviors are seen as mistaken beliefs (about how the world works), and the focus is on solutions to problems and teaching children the values we want them to learn long-term, rather than on simply extinguishing behaviors.
Have I oversimplified this? Vastly. There's a lot more to it than that, but what is on my mind lately is the PD theory on praise. Positive Discipline doesn't encourage praise. But wait, you say, isn't praise a good thing? Well, sort of. The thinking is that it's like candy--OK in small doses, but not as a steady diet. Instead of praise, PD advocates encouragement. Sounds like a matter of semantics, I know. The difference is that praise tends to express approval and judgment, whereas encouragement inspires, stimulates, and promotes. The locus of control in praise is external, versus encouragement, where it's internal.
Say, for example, that a kid brings over their finished painting. Praise would be, "You are such a good painter. I like the way you painted this house." Encouragement would be, "Thanks for sharing this with me. What is your favorite thing in the picture?" You get the idea--basically, if you can imagine Yoda or Mr. Miyagi saying it, it's probably encouragement.
When you teach this lesson in the class, you do a little role-play where you have one person receive praise statements like "You're such a good girl" and "I'm so proud of you" while the other person receives encouraging statements like "I love you no matter what" and "You must be proud of yourself." Usually, the person who receives the praise feels good at first, until they hear the other person's encouraging statements.
The first time I saw this exercise, I was quietly embarrassed. Because, while I totally got the point, I recognized that I still wanted the praise. Growing up, I was the quintessential Good Kid, and I got a lot of praise for that. And I loved it. I became what Nelson calls an "approval junkie." It wasn't enough if I liked what I had done, I needed someone else to like it, too.
Ahem. Dig me, using the past tense, as if this is no longer true.
I still really struggle with this, with looking inward rather than to others for validation. It makes MOTH crazy, because, as the person in nearest proximity, he is often who I turn to. Which makes me crazy, because he--being the opposite of an approval junkie--doesn't want me to need that approval, so he grants it grudgingly, which of course, doesn't count. And then I get frustrated because a) I know that I shouldn't need it, but b) I do, and you know it, so how's about we make with the praise, please?!
As Tankbaby becomes a Tanktoddler, I know that parenting is going to undergo a shift as well, from The Basics (provide love, food, shelter, safety) to Advanced (all of the above, plus Shaping Human Being). I hope that I can do as good a job as my parents did (oops...I mean that as a compliment to my parents, not to myself, though I can see how it could read that way...), plus make a few adjustments. One of those is not to create an approval junkie. But I also don't want him to go so far in the other direction that he doesn't care at all what other people think. I do think that independence can go too far and become isolation. MOTH is fiercely independent, and while I find it admirable, I also am driven batty by the fact that I often feel like he doesn't think about how it feels to be someone else. As I've said to him, "It's great that you don't care what anybody thinks, but sometimes that feels to me like you don't care what I think." (He reassures me that he does, of course.)
I'm sure that, with two parental extremes, we can reach a nice healthy middle ground for our boy, right? Oh, and without much conflict between the parents, if that's not too much to ask.
Also, I'd like a pony. That flies.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Reasons I Suck at Posting Lately
1. My baby's bare feet look like steamed pork buns and I must nom on them daily.
2. During my limited computer time, I'm easily distracted by stuff like this. He's a monkey! Who cooks! And I can highly endorse the apple crumble.
3. I'm still trying to learn that whole who/whom thing. Also, lay/lie.
4. It's really out of service to you, the reader. I don't want to rush you; I want to give you time to really savor each post. Go ahead, swish it around in your mouth a bit. There, isn't that nice? ("Mmm...fruity, with a fishy finish.")
5. I may have mentioned once or twice that my baby (he of the pork buns feet) doesn't. Effing. Sleep.
6. MOTH and I are back on our weekly menu-planning schedule, which means that instead of lame-but-fast pasta, we are taking the time to cook and consume things like tonight's butternut squash and bacon* risotto (which, by the way, good Goddamn, y'all...I believe all three of us consumed our collective weight in that stuff tonight).
7. Each post is preceded by three days of preparatory ritual, including fasting and meditation. Those are tricky, but it's the human sacrifices that really take up some time.
8. George W. Bush. I can't pinpoint how, but it's always safe to assume he's had a hand in screwing things up.
*When I came home, the whole house smelled of bacon, which made me think: bacon potpourri. Genius, right? Come on, you'd totally buy that.
2. During my limited computer time, I'm easily distracted by stuff like this. He's a monkey! Who cooks! And I can highly endorse the apple crumble.
3. I'm still trying to learn that whole who/whom thing. Also, lay/lie.
4. It's really out of service to you, the reader. I don't want to rush you; I want to give you time to really savor each post. Go ahead, swish it around in your mouth a bit. There, isn't that nice? ("Mmm...fruity, with a fishy finish.")
5. I may have mentioned once or twice that my baby (he of the pork buns feet) doesn't. Effing. Sleep.
6. MOTH and I are back on our weekly menu-planning schedule, which means that instead of lame-but-fast pasta, we are taking the time to cook and consume things like tonight's butternut squash and bacon* risotto (which, by the way, good Goddamn, y'all...I believe all three of us consumed our collective weight in that stuff tonight).
7. Each post is preceded by three days of preparatory ritual, including fasting and meditation. Those are tricky, but it's the human sacrifices that really take up some time.
8. George W. Bush. I can't pinpoint how, but it's always safe to assume he's had a hand in screwing things up.
*When I came home, the whole house smelled of bacon, which made me think: bacon potpourri. Genius, right? Come on, you'd totally buy that.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
More Bloggy Love
You guys! (For full effect, that should be read with the "I can't believe it I'm so stunned but secretly I've been hoping for this for months" inflection of the girl whose bra was just snapped by some mouth-breathing jock in the junior high hallway.) Elly over at BugginWord done give me an award! And all she asks for in return is hot lesbian monkey sex with painted ferrets while listening to Rod Stewart (in order to understand those references you will have to go read her blog, which you really ought to be doing anyway).
Ironically, this award is given for commenting, which is something I have been really bad about doing lately (in addition to blogging, exercising, shaving my legs, and countless other neglected activities), for which I have no excuse, given that I've had three weeks off school. I plead traveling, yet another dad-blarned baby cold, and general holiday madness.
So, if I understand how this award works, I list five things I enjoy (general enough for you? I could do, like, Five Things I Enjoy On Ice Cream, or Five Things I Enjoy When No-One's Looking, or Five Things I Enjoy About Rhinoceroses...), then I give a shout-out (who's white? I am!) to five of my "loyal followers who make your day with frequent and cool comments.”
So, Five Apparently Unrelated Things I Enjoy:
1) Reading a book for hours at a stretch, hopefully with a sweet snack to nibble on idly
2) That moment when, either because you hit snooze or because you realize it's Saturday, you roll over and go back to sleep
3) Having warm laundry dumped on me...mmmm...
4) Making someone laugh, especially if it's someone who makes me laugh
5) Bike riding on city streets at night
Now here comes the good part. I think I have exactly five people who I could call followers, and I have certainly tested their loyalty by my scanty posts as of late. So, everyone wins! See, with other bloggers, you might have to gnaw your fingernails, wondering if you would be one of the lucky chosen ones, and sending small tokens of appreciation in hopes of being recognized. But not with me! All you have to do is show up! I mean...
(Hm. I'm not sure who I'm insulting more above...me or you guys. Let's move on to the award while I still have all five of you...)
Submom at Absence of Alternatives: You were my first (bashfully kicks ground), and you continue to post lovely, funny, and encouraging comments--sometimes apologizing, even for commenting "too much." As if such a thing were possible!
Jen at Nathan Rising: Besides the fact that you are always supa-dupa sweet, I think our babies are almost exactly the same age, so I have a fantasy that they'll grow up and be college roommates in some wacky buddy movie. Could happen, right?
The Kitchen Witch: Because I think that in real life, you would shun me for my terribly pedestrian tastebuds, I cling like a howler monkey to each smart and funny thing you write online. Which includes, um, everything you write.
Naptime Writing: Everything I can say, you can say better. So just the fact that you come by and don't shake your head pityingly at me is really enough for me.
Elly at BugginWord: You make me snort more than any person in recent memory. Also, you have kicked major cancer ass, which means that you're a superhero and it's best to keep on your good side.
Good night, my lovelies. You are all the collective wind beneath my bloggy wings.
Monday, January 4, 2010
2010: Where's My Damn Flying Car?
Well, hi. So much for upping my blogging game in December, huh? To be fair, part of the problem was that I spent the last two weeks of it traveling and holding a baby who decided to meet his 9-month milestone of Increased Stranger Anxiety Oh Dear God If I'm Not Being Held By Mom It Is As If My Eyes Are Being Plucked Out By Seagulls (I'm pretty sure that's totally what it's called in the Dr. Sears books.) And while yes, my fancyphone has interweb capability, I do not yet possess the skillz to type on it with any accuracy/speed while simultaneously trying to keep Tankbaby's My First Talons from plucking and pinching at my, ahem, decolletage. This is his new game while nursing, and I am not a fan. My boobs and sternum are now covered with yellow bruises, as if I'm the victim of a tiny, tiny domestic violence offender.
The always excellent Sundry has recently posted her traditional New Year's quizmemething, and, while I generally don't get into these things, I do totally get into a ready-made blog entry (perhaps for Christmas I should have asked for a work ethic). So, while I make my grandiose plans for the pithy and lengthy blog entries I will inevitably write about our holiday travels, for now I offer you this:
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
1. Had a baby.
2. Started a blog.
3. Made my own chicken soup from scratch.
4. Went nine months without ever sleeping more than four hours in a row (see #1).
A very impressive list, no? Actually, there are lots more things that I could list, all related to that baby-having thing, but they'd include things like Eliminated Personal Waste In Front Of Strangers and Lost All Sense of Breasts As Anything Other Than Fleshy Oberweiss Spouts, so let's move on, shall we?
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I cleverly avoided failure in this area by not making any resolutions last year. Although, looking back, I realize that I should have resolved for 2009 to lose weight. Seeing as how I was eight months pregnant in January 2009, that would have been an easy win as soon as I gave birth. Shoot.
For this year, I sort of shudder to call them resolutions, but my brain keeps popping up the following:
Well, I did. Does that count? Also, my friend A, who hadn't told me she was pregnant yet when I ran into her at what turned out to be our midwife's office. Her daughter is one month and one day older than Tankbaby. And about ten pounds lighter. Hee.
Plus, my cousin's wife, my friend Jason's wife, and my cousin (a different one).
Oh, and Kourtney Kardashian. (Seriously, folks, should we just get DHS on the speed dial now?)
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, thank God, but one of my dearest friends had a miscarriage in January and it affected me more deeply than I could have imagined (happy ending: she is now pregnant!).
5. What countries did you visit?
Yeah. Look, between the baby and the economy, we're lucky I got to visit another state, and that didn't even happen until December.
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
A full night's sleep.
7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Well, this is awfully "duh," but Tankbaby's birthday is March 8th.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Huh. Have you guys noticed that this quiz is a little weighted in one area? I guess it'd be too obvious to point out that I birthed myself a whole human, basically with the birth plan I'd wanted, and learned to breastfeed, and haven't dropped him yet...
Well, heck, I finished NaBloPoMo!
Aaannd...huh. Hard to surpass Creating Human Life From Scratch. Although, I think I should also give a nod to just learning to live everyday life with a high-needs infant. Things like dyeing my hair, going to work, cleaning the bathroom...each of these have often felt like tremendous successes in the moment.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Wow. What does it say that I have quite a list in my head going on here? I'm going to follow my own resolution about being kinder to myself and take off all parenting-related things from that list. I'm a new, sleep-deprived mom who has a wealth of professional knowledge that translates into a constant voice telling me that I should know better, should do better. I certainly had moments of being so frustrated and overwhelmed and losing it, to the point of needing to throw things, but I never once a) threw the baby, b) threw things at my husband, or c) threw the baby at my husband, so I'm gonna call this good.
I am, however, bothered by how my efforts at being a good mom sometimes meant that I failed at being a good wife, a good friend, or a good teacher. I hope that in the next year, I learn more balance.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Other than pushing-human-out-the-coochie-related owies, I've done remarkably well. The year's first cold hit me in early December. No dreaded swine flu, despite the best efforts of my little petri dishes at school.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Well, the fancyphone springs to mind, because it's new and shiny and sitting right here, and because, once that rebate comes through, it was free. I think, however, the best money I spent in 2009 was actually spent in late 2008, on the Hypnobirthing classes we took. We certainly got our money's worth in 2009, and I credit the classes and our wonderful teacher with the fact that Chicken Little old me did not have any panic during the entire 24-hour birthing experience. That was my greatest fear (fear itself, ahem), and the fact that I remained calm and (relatively) in control throughout the labor is money well spent.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Imma shout-out to all my bitches. The single ladies (all the single ladies) who were beyond tolerant about my baby-blathering and used their unfettered status to do things like pick up prescriptions and take my dog to the park during those early, bleary days...the fellow new moms who shared and overshared all the details of pregnancy, birth, and new babyhood and made me remember I wasn't alone...the seasoned moms who offered perspective and wisdom when I wished my own mom could have been here....I was (cliche alert) truly blessed to have all these women in my life.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
It seems to easy to go with celebrity jokes around Sarah Palin, Kanye West, or Tiger Woods, so I'm going to answer this sadly and honestly and say the behavior of some of the families I work with. Of course, other families could easily be the answer to question 12 as well.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills and daily expenses. We went down to one income, plus I had some unpaid maternity leave (sigh), so we were definitely belt-tightening around here.
15. What did you get really excited about?
I suppose it's a cop-out to go with the baby again, but let me just say that when you work in special ed, every typical milestone met is a reassurance.
What else? My friend's pregnancy. My other friend's idea for a family-friendly theater company. Writing again. Making my dad a grandpa. Helping my sister plan her wedding. And, um, Glee. What? It's awesome.
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
Songs I sing to Tankbaby: "Rocky Raccoon" by the Beatles, "Space Oddity" by David Bowie...and the entire Forgotten Arm album by Aimee Mann. You know, just your standard lullabies.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
-happier or sadder? Both. (Cop out, I know, but really...of course I'm happier in that my life has totally changed to include this chunky baby of awesomeness, but also? Life is a lot harder and more complicated and I find myself reminiscing fondly of the simple potential of last year at this time, when all was ripe and giddy and just easier.)
-thinner or fatter? Thinner. Because I was EIGHT ZILLION MONTHS PREGNANT last January.
-richer or poorer? Definitely poorer.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
I wish I'd started blogging earlier. I wish I'd written more about the early days of motherhood, because I will never experience those for the first time again. I wish I'd taken more deep breaths and asked for help more often.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Worrying. About EVERYTHING. Jeez-us, it's a wonder I got anything else done. Oh, wait....
20. How did you spend Christmas?
At my mom's cousin's house with that whole side of the family, most of whom had never met Tankbaby. There were new babies, new spouses, and a whole lotta desserts. Good times.
21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
Yes, with my baby. Also with Cameron and Mitchell on Modern Family. Probably more so with the baby, but it's too close to call.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
Well, we don't have cable, we don't do Netflix, and I mostly only got to watch any TV in the last few months when Tankbaby finally started napping. So, knowing that my choices are limited to what I can see on network websites or Hulu, I will direct your attention to the previously-referenced Glee and Modern Family. But I'm also crossing my legs like an elderly daschund waiting for the return of Friday Night Lights to NBC.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.
24. What was the best book you read?
During the wee hours of the morning, back when night nursing meant sitting up in bed for 45-60 minutes at a time every 2-3 hours, I read the Jasper Fforde Thursday Next series and enjoyed it tremendously. I also reread Ayun Halliday's The Big Rumpus and Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions a few times, both of which helped me feel like less of a crazy person. Lamott's book, especially, should be required reading for new moms.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Please see above notes regarding a) poverty and b) baby. No new music for me this year, really, although I will say that dancing around the kitchen with the babe, I rediscovered just how wonderful Paul Simon's Graceland is.
26. What did you want and get?
A healthy baby (booo-ring!)
To keep my job (which was looking iffy during budgeting time...which fell smack dab in the middle of my--unpaid--maternity leave)
A good haircut now that I've finally grown out the Great Bangs Experiment of Ought-Eight
27. What did you want and not get?
More visits with friends and family
That sense of peace and familial tranquility (not to mention the white, fluffy sheets 'n' duvet set) in all the Johnson & Johnson commercials that feature a new baby.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Well, considering I saw exactly one movie this year (Extract, which I did enjoy), this is kind of no contest. Ooh! But I also finally saw Clue all the way through--I know, I know, but I'd only seen it in bits and pieces before--at a friend's house one night and it was awesome. Madeline Kahn and Tim Curry should be in every movie ever.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I saw Extract. My in-laws were in town, so we all had brunch, and then they watched the baby while MOTH and I saw a matinee, then joined them for dinner. I turned 34, as did 50 Cent, who I'm sure spent his day similarly.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
The ability to fly.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Well, being a fashion icon such as I am, my concept evolved from "Tablecloths with Sleeves" to "Shapeless but Functional" to "Fine, I Guess I'll Wear Non-Elastic Waistbands Again."
32. What kept you sane?
Yeah, that's assuming that I was so kept. I would say that's debatable.
Oddly enough, I think going back to work helped a lot. It gave me perspective to see what some of my kids and families struggle with on a daily basis. I got to talk to adults, but adults who study young kids and were therefore happy to ask/listen about Tankbaby. Perhaps most important for my mental health, I got to occasionally go to the bathroom without filing a flight plan.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I suppose if I were cool I could list one of those sexy vampire kids. Well, I think it's always safe to go with Jon Stewart, right? Ooh, and Mike Rowe. You know, from Dirty Jobs? Funny, built, and willing to deal with the icks of life? Yeah...I'd knock him down and hit the ground first.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Well, healthcare and economical woes aside, I am always amazed at how difficult it is to get and keep funding for special ed services for kids birth-five. News flash: if we don't fix it now, it's going to be your problem down the road.
35. Who did you miss?
My mom.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
I will skip the obvious, baby-related answer here and instead give a shout-out to my New Interwebz Friends that have been so wonderful about reading, commenting, and supporting me as I try out this little blogging adventure. When I'm charged with child neglect from spending all my time online, I will thank each of you.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
When I was complaining to a friend about Tankbaby's fractiousness around month four, she told me about a time she was babysitting and the infant was just inconsolable and wouldn't eat or sleep or chill the hell out. My friend called her mom, who commiserated by saying, "You can't yell at a damn baby." Which is not, I suppose, technically true, but the point is, the baby? He doesn't care about how much he's inconveniencing/frustrating/worrying you, and nothing you do can make him care. All you can do is hold on sometimes. It's been humbling, and probably very good for me, to be part of a process where I have so little control.
Also? I recently discovered that I enjoy roasted squash.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Terribly sappy, but I've been singing Tankbaby this lullaby that my mom used to sing to me. It's a John Denver song that Peter, Paul and Mary performed called "For Baby (for Bobby)":
I'll walk in the rain by your side,
I'll cling to the warmth of your tiny hand,
I'll do anything to help you understand
I love you more than anybody can.
Wow. This damn entry has taken me three days to write, and I pretty much just put "the baby" in for every answer. And now I'm off to check in with my fabulous bloggy friends, sorely neglected these last few weeks. Happy 2010, everyone...
The always excellent Sundry has recently posted her traditional New Year's quizmemething, and, while I generally don't get into these things, I do totally get into a ready-made blog entry (perhaps for Christmas I should have asked for a work ethic). So, while I make my grandiose plans for the pithy and lengthy blog entries I will inevitably write about our holiday travels, for now I offer you this:
1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?
1. Had a baby.
2. Started a blog.
3. Made my own chicken soup from scratch.
4. Went nine months without ever sleeping more than four hours in a row (see #1).
A very impressive list, no? Actually, there are lots more things that I could list, all related to that baby-having thing, but they'd include things like Eliminated Personal Waste In Front Of Strangers and Lost All Sense of Breasts As Anything Other Than Fleshy Oberweiss Spouts, so let's move on, shall we?
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I cleverly avoided failure in this area by not making any resolutions last year. Although, looking back, I realize that I should have resolved for 2009 to lose weight. Seeing as how I was eight months pregnant in January 2009, that would have been an easy win as soon as I gave birth. Shoot.
For this year, I sort of shudder to call them resolutions, but my brain keeps popping up the following:
- Be kinder to myself, but less self-indulgent (that second part shouldn't be too hard, considering that by the end of 2010 I'll have a toddler on my hands. I hear they are the next best thing to nunneries if you're trying to avoid decadence).
- Quit building resentment. I struggle so much with this, and it does no-one any good, so I'd really like to work on developing a tough-love "either take action or shaddup about it" attitude with myself. Curiously, I have no problem applying this edict to others...
- Get back into a regular exercise habit. I know, I know, this one is so cliche it's lame, but other than walking the dog, I haven't had a regular exercise routine all year, unless you count breastfeeding. Which is great for the scale, but not doing a whole lot for things like, say, my cardiovascular health. I used to be pretty religious about doing something 3-4 times/week, and should really get back into that routine in some way. You know what they say: MILFs are made, not born. Or...something.
Well, I did. Does that count? Also, my friend A, who hadn't told me she was pregnant yet when I ran into her at what turned out to be our midwife's office. Her daughter is one month and one day older than Tankbaby. And about ten pounds lighter. Hee.
Plus, my cousin's wife, my friend Jason's wife, and my cousin (a different one).
Oh, and Kourtney Kardashian. (Seriously, folks, should we just get DHS on the speed dial now?)
4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, thank God, but one of my dearest friends had a miscarriage in January and it affected me more deeply than I could have imagined (happy ending: she is now pregnant!).
5. What countries did you visit?
Yeah. Look, between the baby and the economy, we're lucky I got to visit another state, and that didn't even happen until December.
6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
A full night's sleep.
7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Well, this is awfully "duh," but Tankbaby's birthday is March 8th.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Huh. Have you guys noticed that this quiz is a little weighted in one area? I guess it'd be too obvious to point out that I birthed myself a whole human, basically with the birth plan I'd wanted, and learned to breastfeed, and haven't dropped him yet...
Well, heck, I finished NaBloPoMo!
Aaannd...huh. Hard to surpass Creating Human Life From Scratch. Although, I think I should also give a nod to just learning to live everyday life with a high-needs infant. Things like dyeing my hair, going to work, cleaning the bathroom...each of these have often felt like tremendous successes in the moment.
9. What was your biggest failure?
Wow. What does it say that I have quite a list in my head going on here? I'm going to follow my own resolution about being kinder to myself and take off all parenting-related things from that list. I'm a new, sleep-deprived mom who has a wealth of professional knowledge that translates into a constant voice telling me that I should know better, should do better. I certainly had moments of being so frustrated and overwhelmed and losing it, to the point of needing to throw things, but I never once a) threw the baby, b) threw things at my husband, or c) threw the baby at my husband, so I'm gonna call this good.
I am, however, bothered by how my efforts at being a good mom sometimes meant that I failed at being a good wife, a good friend, or a good teacher. I hope that in the next year, I learn more balance.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Other than pushing-human-out-the-coochie-related owies, I've done remarkably well. The year's first cold hit me in early December. No dreaded swine flu, despite the best efforts of my little petri dishes at school.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
Well, the fancyphone springs to mind, because it's new and shiny and sitting right here, and because, once that rebate comes through, it was free. I think, however, the best money I spent in 2009 was actually spent in late 2008, on the Hypnobirthing classes we took. We certainly got our money's worth in 2009, and I credit the classes and our wonderful teacher with the fact that Chicken Little old me did not have any panic during the entire 24-hour birthing experience. That was my greatest fear (fear itself, ahem), and the fact that I remained calm and (relatively) in control throughout the labor is money well spent.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Imma shout-out to all my bitches. The single ladies (all the single ladies) who were beyond tolerant about my baby-blathering and used their unfettered status to do things like pick up prescriptions and take my dog to the park during those early, bleary days...the fellow new moms who shared and overshared all the details of pregnancy, birth, and new babyhood and made me remember I wasn't alone...the seasoned moms who offered perspective and wisdom when I wished my own mom could have been here....I was (cliche alert) truly blessed to have all these women in my life.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
It seems to easy to go with celebrity jokes around Sarah Palin, Kanye West, or Tiger Woods, so I'm going to answer this sadly and honestly and say the behavior of some of the families I work with. Of course, other families could easily be the answer to question 12 as well.
14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills and daily expenses. We went down to one income, plus I had some unpaid maternity leave (sigh), so we were definitely belt-tightening around here.
15. What did you get really excited about?
I suppose it's a cop-out to go with the baby again, but let me just say that when you work in special ed, every typical milestone met is a reassurance.
What else? My friend's pregnancy. My other friend's idea for a family-friendly theater company. Writing again. Making my dad a grandpa. Helping my sister plan her wedding. And, um, Glee. What? It's awesome.
16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
Songs I sing to Tankbaby: "Rocky Raccoon" by the Beatles, "Space Oddity" by David Bowie...and the entire Forgotten Arm album by Aimee Mann. You know, just your standard lullabies.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
-happier or sadder? Both. (Cop out, I know, but really...of course I'm happier in that my life has totally changed to include this chunky baby of awesomeness, but also? Life is a lot harder and more complicated and I find myself reminiscing fondly of the simple potential of last year at this time, when all was ripe and giddy and just easier.)
-thinner or fatter? Thinner. Because I was EIGHT ZILLION MONTHS PREGNANT last January.
-richer or poorer? Definitely poorer.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
I wish I'd started blogging earlier. I wish I'd written more about the early days of motherhood, because I will never experience those for the first time again. I wish I'd taken more deep breaths and asked for help more often.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Worrying. About EVERYTHING. Jeez-us, it's a wonder I got anything else done. Oh, wait....
20. How did you spend Christmas?
At my mom's cousin's house with that whole side of the family, most of whom had never met Tankbaby. There were new babies, new spouses, and a whole lotta desserts. Good times.
21. Did you fall in love in 2009?
Yes, with my baby. Also with Cameron and Mitchell on Modern Family. Probably more so with the baby, but it's too close to call.
22. What was your favorite TV program?
Well, we don't have cable, we don't do Netflix, and I mostly only got to watch any TV in the last few months when Tankbaby finally started napping. So, knowing that my choices are limited to what I can see on network websites or Hulu, I will direct your attention to the previously-referenced Glee and Modern Family. But I'm also crossing my legs like an elderly daschund waiting for the return of Friday Night Lights to NBC.
23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Nope.
24. What was the best book you read?
During the wee hours of the morning, back when night nursing meant sitting up in bed for 45-60 minutes at a time every 2-3 hours, I read the Jasper Fforde Thursday Next series and enjoyed it tremendously. I also reread Ayun Halliday's The Big Rumpus and Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions a few times, both of which helped me feel like less of a crazy person. Lamott's book, especially, should be required reading for new moms.
25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Please see above notes regarding a) poverty and b) baby. No new music for me this year, really, although I will say that dancing around the kitchen with the babe, I rediscovered just how wonderful Paul Simon's Graceland is.
26. What did you want and get?
A healthy baby (booo-ring!)
To keep my job (which was looking iffy during budgeting time...which fell smack dab in the middle of my--unpaid--maternity leave)
A good haircut now that I've finally grown out the Great Bangs Experiment of Ought-Eight
27. What did you want and not get?
More visits with friends and family
That sense of peace and familial tranquility (not to mention the white, fluffy sheets 'n' duvet set) in all the Johnson & Johnson commercials that feature a new baby.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Well, considering I saw exactly one movie this year (Extract, which I did enjoy), this is kind of no contest. Ooh! But I also finally saw Clue all the way through--I know, I know, but I'd only seen it in bits and pieces before--at a friend's house one night and it was awesome. Madeline Kahn and Tim Curry should be in every movie ever.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I saw Extract. My in-laws were in town, so we all had brunch, and then they watched the baby while MOTH and I saw a matinee, then joined them for dinner. I turned 34, as did 50 Cent, who I'm sure spent his day similarly.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
The ability to fly.
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Well, being a fashion icon such as I am, my concept evolved from "Tablecloths with Sleeves" to "Shapeless but Functional" to "Fine, I Guess I'll Wear Non-Elastic Waistbands Again."
32. What kept you sane?
Yeah, that's assuming that I was so kept. I would say that's debatable.
Oddly enough, I think going back to work helped a lot. It gave me perspective to see what some of my kids and families struggle with on a daily basis. I got to talk to adults, but adults who study young kids and were therefore happy to ask/listen about Tankbaby. Perhaps most important for my mental health, I got to occasionally go to the bathroom without filing a flight plan.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I suppose if I were cool I could list one of those sexy vampire kids. Well, I think it's always safe to go with Jon Stewart, right? Ooh, and Mike Rowe. You know, from Dirty Jobs? Funny, built, and willing to deal with the icks of life? Yeah...I'd knock him down and hit the ground first.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Well, healthcare and economical woes aside, I am always amazed at how difficult it is to get and keep funding for special ed services for kids birth-five. News flash: if we don't fix it now, it's going to be your problem down the road.
35. Who did you miss?
My mom.
36. Who was the best new person you met?
I will skip the obvious, baby-related answer here and instead give a shout-out to my New Interwebz Friends that have been so wonderful about reading, commenting, and supporting me as I try out this little blogging adventure. When I'm charged with child neglect from spending all my time online, I will thank each of you.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009.
When I was complaining to a friend about Tankbaby's fractiousness around month four, she told me about a time she was babysitting and the infant was just inconsolable and wouldn't eat or sleep or chill the hell out. My friend called her mom, who commiserated by saying, "You can't yell at a damn baby." Which is not, I suppose, technically true, but the point is, the baby? He doesn't care about how much he's inconveniencing/frustrating/worrying you, and nothing you do can make him care. All you can do is hold on sometimes. It's been humbling, and probably very good for me, to be part of a process where I have so little control.
Also? I recently discovered that I enjoy roasted squash.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Terribly sappy, but I've been singing Tankbaby this lullaby that my mom used to sing to me. It's a John Denver song that Peter, Paul and Mary performed called "For Baby (for Bobby)":
I'll walk in the rain by your side,
I'll cling to the warmth of your tiny hand,
I'll do anything to help you understand
I love you more than anybody can.
Wow. This damn entry has taken me three days to write, and I pretty much just put "the baby" in for every answer. And now I'm off to check in with my fabulous bloggy friends, sorely neglected these last few weeks. Happy 2010, everyone...
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Like an Enema, Time is Fleeting
OK, first? I can't believe I just typed that title.
I have I don't know how many few minutes here, so I'm just gonna spew stuff out until I come to an abrupt stop. I know, I know, such a departure from my normal well-thought-out, mannered entries.
We flew in to O'Hare one week ago today, and every day has involved long car trips and/or large gatherings, which is exactly as much fun as you can imagine it would be with a baby who is at the peak of separation anxiety. But for me, it's been lovely to see people--95% of whom I haven't seen since last year at this time--and weird to be seen as a mom now. You go through an identity shift when you first have a baby (duh), where for the first three months, when someone asks you if you have kids, you still start to answer "no," before you realize that, holy shit, yes you do! But then you get used to it and you and those around you begin to see "parent" as part of who you are. I hear that eventually that aspect gets integrated into your whole person; for me, I still see myself very clearly as "before" and "after" shots. It still feels short-term, possibly reversible. Like a new haircut. Not that I have any regrets about having a baby, just that it's hard for me to wrap my brain around something this huge, this life-transforming, this...forever thing. And while I flip back and forth between feeling totally natural and totally alien at this mama thing, I am also seeing myself now through other people's eyes and wondering what they see. You know, besides the giant rack.
So, the day before we left, MOTH and I got new phones. Fancy smartphones. Very possibly smarterthanmephones. We hadn't planned on going fancy, but when we signed our new contract, I was offered a new phone free, and the store had this buy-one-get-one sale, and we ended up getting two schmancy phones for free. I can haz interweb on my phone now! But my margin of error is still quite large on things as basic as, say, dialing, so I'm still learning how to work it. However, I have great hopes of blogging on the go, learning to take and post pictures and video, and generally amassing the technological skills of your average eight-year-old. In the meantime, however, I have been taking advantage of this hand-held treat to make notes for blog entries! (And a pox on those of you who would point out that, even before I got the fancy phone, I could have used something like, say, a pen and paper for the same purpose.) Here's what I've got so far:
On visiting my in-laws (who live in the NW corner of the state, in the middle of nowhere): "It's like Fargo, but without the accents and fugly hookers."
On my very sweet father-in-law's attempt to soothe a fractious Tankbaby during the loooong-ass car ride from the airport to their house: "Of course, because what else would you play an overstimulated, overtired baby to lull them to sleep but the opening song from Ragtime?"
On my own frustration after Tankbaby came down with yet another cold and thus yet another Crummy-Five-Interrupted-Hours-Of-Sleep-Followed-By-Three-Hours-Of-Fussing night, during which MOTH moved to the other room (later I found out that he moved because he was tossing and turning and afraid that he was making things with Tank worse, but at 4 AM, I just thought he'd left me alone with Hellbaby without saying a word, and so of course I lay there for two hours plotting our divorce followed by his slow, painful death by being pinched repeatedly by baby fingernails): "I realize that I'm not mad at MOTH, but I can't be mad at who I'm really mad at: the asshole in the diaper."
And, as a bonus for her fans, I give you my sister:
We had some family friends (Ed and Carol, a couple that have been friends with my dad since high school and their kids) over on Saturday night and played a board game. We divided into teams with the "kids" (who are all now over 30) versus the "old people." When my sister was assigning game pieces to the teams, she offered the parents team a black piece, "because you're all closer to death." When Carol literally tackled her from across the game board, my sister relented: "OK, OK, just kidding! You can be white." As Carol resumed her seat, my sister muttered, "Just like the light into which you'll be heading soon."
But enough about me. How have you all been? I have been learning to use Fancypantsphone to surf the web, but haven't yet had enough time/hands to comment on blogs, but rest assured that I'm stalking you all, quietly.
I have I don't know how many few minutes here, so I'm just gonna spew stuff out until I come to an abrupt stop. I know, I know, such a departure from my normal well-thought-out, mannered entries.
We flew in to O'Hare one week ago today, and every day has involved long car trips and/or large gatherings, which is exactly as much fun as you can imagine it would be with a baby who is at the peak of separation anxiety. But for me, it's been lovely to see people--95% of whom I haven't seen since last year at this time--and weird to be seen as a mom now. You go through an identity shift when you first have a baby (duh), where for the first three months, when someone asks you if you have kids, you still start to answer "no," before you realize that, holy shit, yes you do! But then you get used to it and you and those around you begin to see "parent" as part of who you are. I hear that eventually that aspect gets integrated into your whole person; for me, I still see myself very clearly as "before" and "after" shots. It still feels short-term, possibly reversible. Like a new haircut. Not that I have any regrets about having a baby, just that it's hard for me to wrap my brain around something this huge, this life-transforming, this...forever thing. And while I flip back and forth between feeling totally natural and totally alien at this mama thing, I am also seeing myself now through other people's eyes and wondering what they see. You know, besides the giant rack.
So, the day before we left, MOTH and I got new phones. Fancy smartphones. Very possibly smarterthanmephones. We hadn't planned on going fancy, but when we signed our new contract, I was offered a new phone free, and the store had this buy-one-get-one sale, and we ended up getting two schmancy phones for free. I can haz interweb on my phone now! But my margin of error is still quite large on things as basic as, say, dialing, so I'm still learning how to work it. However, I have great hopes of blogging on the go, learning to take and post pictures and video, and generally amassing the technological skills of your average eight-year-old. In the meantime, however, I have been taking advantage of this hand-held treat to make notes for blog entries! (And a pox on those of you who would point out that, even before I got the fancy phone, I could have used something like, say, a pen and paper for the same purpose.) Here's what I've got so far:
On visiting my in-laws (who live in the NW corner of the state, in the middle of nowhere): "It's like Fargo, but without the accents and fugly hookers."
On my very sweet father-in-law's attempt to soothe a fractious Tankbaby during the loooong-ass car ride from the airport to their house: "Of course, because what else would you play an overstimulated, overtired baby to lull them to sleep but the opening song from Ragtime?"
On my own frustration after Tankbaby came down with yet another cold and thus yet another Crummy-Five-Interrupted-Hours-Of-Sleep-Followed-By-Three-Hours-Of-Fussing night, during which MOTH moved to the other room (later I found out that he moved because he was tossing and turning and afraid that he was making things with Tank worse, but at 4 AM, I just thought he'd left me alone with Hellbaby without saying a word, and so of course I lay there for two hours plotting our divorce followed by his slow, painful death by being pinched repeatedly by baby fingernails): "I realize that I'm not mad at MOTH, but I can't be mad at who I'm really mad at: the asshole in the diaper."
And, as a bonus for her fans, I give you my sister:
We had some family friends (Ed and Carol, a couple that have been friends with my dad since high school and their kids) over on Saturday night and played a board game. We divided into teams with the "kids" (who are all now over 30) versus the "old people." When my sister was assigning game pieces to the teams, she offered the parents team a black piece, "because you're all closer to death." When Carol literally tackled her from across the game board, my sister relented: "OK, OK, just kidding! You can be white." As Carol resumed her seat, my sister muttered, "Just like the light into which you'll be heading soon."
But enough about me. How have you all been? I have been learning to use Fancypantsphone to surf the web, but haven't yet had enough time/hands to comment on blogs, but rest assured that I'm stalking you all, quietly.
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