Literally.
Don't have children or your walls too, could look like this. It's too late for us, but the rest of you? Yes, there is still time to save yourselves from a six AM shit-cleaning session.
We planned a trip to the San Diego zoo this weekend, but why go when we have our own feces-throwing primate in the next room? Well, it's too late to cancel our hotel reservations. But, suffice it to say that if we have another "incident" like this one, someone is going to be abandoned on the side of the road. More evidenciary photos on flickr.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Waking hours
Some days, not today, but some days I wake up thinking, "No thanks, not today."
I wish I didn't have to immediately shift into parenting gear. I think about the hours ahead spent telling a tiny person, "No" repeatedly. Answering endless, repetetive requests. Trying my best to supress the natual response of "Stop fucking asking me for things." And instead calmly telling her for the forty seventh time why she can't have another vitamin today. Without fail she responds, "More vittie, please?" I've taken to ignoring such questions after the third request. But the sheer amount of asking wears very, very thin.
It starts the moment you get her from her crib, where she has spent the entire night dreaming up requests; her early waking hours are spent formulating those requests into coherent questions. When I finally enter her room they fall out of her mouth in a steady, hurried stream.
Where daddy, warm milk, watch tv, watch winnie pooh, please.
Biddie, watch tv, vittie, warm milk, peanut toast butter, please.
Upstairs, jump trampoline, yogurt, go, watch winnie pooh, please.
And so our day begins.
I wish I didn't have to immediately shift into parenting gear. I think about the hours ahead spent telling a tiny person, "No" repeatedly. Answering endless, repetetive requests. Trying my best to supress the natual response of "Stop fucking asking me for things." And instead calmly telling her for the forty seventh time why she can't have another vitamin today. Without fail she responds, "More vittie, please?" I've taken to ignoring such questions after the third request. But the sheer amount of asking wears very, very thin.
It starts the moment you get her from her crib, where she has spent the entire night dreaming up requests; her early waking hours are spent formulating those requests into coherent questions. When I finally enter her room they fall out of her mouth in a steady, hurried stream.
Where daddy, warm milk, watch tv, watch winnie pooh, please.
Biddie, watch tv, vittie, warm milk, peanut toast butter, please.
Upstairs, jump trampoline, yogurt, go, watch winnie pooh, please.
And so our day begins.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Tile Sample
We like the bottom color range. Though expensive, I think I have to have it. And by expensive I mean, "Who the hell do we think we are that we can afford this kind of tile?" Still, the heart wants what it wants. There are some more pictures of the house on my flickr site, finally
Still here
We've misplaced our camera. Alec thinks I did something with it, when needless to say it was actually him that left somewhere. Consequently, we've not been taking photos. But now we've unearthed our old camera, clunky and slow, and with a pitfully small screen. I was always wondering why we kept it.
This weekend was so beautiful. We went to the beach on Saturday morning and laid on the lawn chairs in the yard on Sunday morning. I think it was more beautiful than normal because rain was predicted. Today is gray (grey?). But that is fine because I made chicken mulligatawny soup on Saturday (in expectation of rain) and it turned out really good. Nora even ate some. She loves milk and curry, which makes me proud to call her my daughter. Other similarities: she wants "peanut toast butter" every moring. Mac and cheese makes her screach with excitedness. The people at the smootie shop begin our smoothies before we order them. When we're at a store, she touches the clothes on the rack and says, "Ohh, nice." And finally, when she hasn't eaten in a while, she is a bitch. And we all wonder how we turn out like our mothers?!
This weekend was so beautiful. We went to the beach on Saturday morning and laid on the lawn chairs in the yard on Sunday morning. I think it was more beautiful than normal because rain was predicted. Today is gray (grey?). But that is fine because I made chicken mulligatawny soup on Saturday (in expectation of rain) and it turned out really good. Nora even ate some. She loves milk and curry, which makes me proud to call her my daughter. Other similarities: she wants "peanut toast butter" every moring. Mac and cheese makes her screach with excitedness. The people at the smootie shop begin our smoothies before we order them. When we're at a store, she touches the clothes on the rack and says, "Ohh, nice." And finally, when she hasn't eaten in a while, she is a bitch. And we all wonder how we turn out like our mothers?!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
The Big Idea
Okay, I had to stretch out my news on account of not having posted, for evor.
I love to shop and to decorate and to eat good food.
So, I want to open a shop that has baby and kid stuff. But cool stuff, stuff you don't find just anywhere. Things made by hand by local people (think custom diaper bags) and cool furniture that doesn't look like it came from Babies r Us (think modern, or maybe custom designed by Alec) and of course the coolest books, toys, and other necessities. But that's not all. What about a place to eat there too! A place that has something healthy and tasty for you, moms and dads, and something healthy and good for kids too (think fruit skewers and oatmeal waffles or hummus and veggies). A place where children can have their own tables and chairs and play area so that you might be able to talk with other adults while enjoying a meal, imagine the possibilities?
Not only would this place provide a place for parents (but primarily mothers) to socialize and buy cool stuff, but I see it as a place for mothers to discuss the issues that effects them, speakers and topics that will start a discourse and unite them.
Well, that is sorta it, for now. I'm starting to read about opening one's own business and what all research etc. one must do. I think this would be happening in a year or two. But I am excited to think and plan and think and plan. In other words, not so bored anymore.
I love to shop and to decorate and to eat good food.
So, I want to open a shop that has baby and kid stuff. But cool stuff, stuff you don't find just anywhere. Things made by hand by local people (think custom diaper bags) and cool furniture that doesn't look like it came from Babies r Us (think modern, or maybe custom designed by Alec) and of course the coolest books, toys, and other necessities. But that's not all. What about a place to eat there too! A place that has something healthy and tasty for you, moms and dads, and something healthy and good for kids too (think fruit skewers and oatmeal waffles or hummus and veggies). A place where children can have their own tables and chairs and play area so that you might be able to talk with other adults while enjoying a meal, imagine the possibilities?
Not only would this place provide a place for parents (but primarily mothers) to socialize and buy cool stuff, but I see it as a place for mothers to discuss the issues that effects them, speakers and topics that will start a discourse and unite them.
Well, that is sorta it, for now. I'm starting to read about opening one's own business and what all research etc. one must do. I think this would be happening in a year or two. But I am excited to think and plan and think and plan. In other words, not so bored anymore.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
I was bored
I've been bored lately. Why? I don't really know. The weather? No, I actually like rain. I guess it's partly because now we are in the house and there isn't anything to work on, think about, plan for, ya know? I feel this kind of general unease that always erupts when I don't have enough to do. I suppose we all need something to look forward to, something to plan for, must be human nature, or at least my nature.
Last night I went to the last meeting of a graduate class that I started in January. I was auditing it. It was taught by an old teacher, whom I idolized. She is that kind of smart that makes you grimace while you listen to her, teetering on the brink of understanding her, wanting to stretch your own mind to at least meet her halfway. My brian used to hurt after class (when I was an undergrad), but my post-pregnancy brain? It is just not as eager to stretch as it used to be. The class was called "Trauma Narratives" and her area of special interest is the Holocaust, so our interests match. The class looked at some critical essays and some duh, narratives. But, I just couldn't get into it. About two weeks ago, we were talking about Jean Amery's essay "On Torture", an essay that I had found I could access through a personal experience. He talks about, among other things, how torture places one completely in their coporeal being and that thought is pretty much absent. I remember labor and delivery, the first time I was ever completely in my own body. Obviously, the essay talks about more than that, but the body bit, that I got. I was terrified to express my pedestrian understanding of the essay but I did, and everyone politely disregarded me. Fair enough. But at that moment I realized that I do not want to be in academia. I just cannot ignore personal understandings of others work. Access. This is huge for me. I always thought that while I wasn't actively pursing it, eventually I would find my way there. Nope.
So, I started thinking about what I do like to do and what I am good at. And you know, it wan't hard for me to formulate what that was and what I could do. And I'm really excited!
Last night I went to the last meeting of a graduate class that I started in January. I was auditing it. It was taught by an old teacher, whom I idolized. She is that kind of smart that makes you grimace while you listen to her, teetering on the brink of understanding her, wanting to stretch your own mind to at least meet her halfway. My brian used to hurt after class (when I was an undergrad), but my post-pregnancy brain? It is just not as eager to stretch as it used to be. The class was called "Trauma Narratives" and her area of special interest is the Holocaust, so our interests match. The class looked at some critical essays and some duh, narratives. But, I just couldn't get into it. About two weeks ago, we were talking about Jean Amery's essay "On Torture", an essay that I had found I could access through a personal experience. He talks about, among other things, how torture places one completely in their coporeal being and that thought is pretty much absent. I remember labor and delivery, the first time I was ever completely in my own body. Obviously, the essay talks about more than that, but the body bit, that I got. I was terrified to express my pedestrian understanding of the essay but I did, and everyone politely disregarded me. Fair enough. But at that moment I realized that I do not want to be in academia. I just cannot ignore personal understandings of others work. Access. This is huge for me. I always thought that while I wasn't actively pursing it, eventually I would find my way there. Nope.
So, I started thinking about what I do like to do and what I am good at. And you know, it wan't hard for me to formulate what that was and what I could do. And I'm really excited!
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