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August 2007
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October 2007

All of a Sudden, Two

Sometimes, yes. It's a little weird to see. Last night I interpreted a jumble of words and signs for Jason. Light, off, eyes, surprised. Oh! His favorite page in Goodnight, Gorilla. I know that "eee eye eee eee eye eeee ooh" is the Farmer in the Dell. I know "nee nee" is singing and "bapap" is backpack. I didn't know he knew the sign for "help" until he did it just now, because he'd dropped a toy behind a cabinet. I know when he's sad or hurt or hungry, when he wants a banana or a cookie, and I know... Read more →

Updates On Things You Didn't Even Know You Cared About

(With more movie title format weirdness. I don't know why I'm having trouble letting it go. Possibly I think I am clever. Possibly tomorrow I will realize the truth.) Captain Corelli's Mandoline Jason's thumb tip appears to be growing back. Or so he says, because I refuse to look at it. He keeps trying to make me look at it. I keep threatening to no longer help him with his shirt buttons. By the way, this is what a mandoline looks like. This is also what a mandoline THAT IS BEING USED PROPERLY looks like. Take away the jolly little... Read more →

Weekend: Horror Movie Edition

Molarball: The Return; or Just When You Thought It Was Safe To Eat SpaghettiOs Again Also known as Friday, the day Noah had a coughing/choking/hacking-lung fit right after lunch and projectile vomited a plate of pasta, half a cheddar cheese stick and an entire sippy cup of juice. And if you think this stuff looks gross coming from the bottle, just wait until you see it come BACK UP. Exorcist remakes, take note. We've got incoming molars, people. And we are just fucking THRILLED about it. Birthday Party: Part Two: The Planninging; or Take Your Fucking Theme And Shove It... Read more →

A Little Off the Top

I've been dragging my feet all week over this post, but y'all are so lovely and sweet and caring that I just cannot lie to you anymore. I simply must confess. We cut Noah's hair this weekend. Wait! Don't cry! It's okay! We actually cut Noah's hair once already, way back in February, at one of those kiddie salons. I asked the...stylist? barber? person who cuts hair with the same finesse as a toddler cuts construction paper with some safety scissors? leave his hair longish. "Just trim the bangs," I said. "Maybe clean up the back a little bit." Of... Read more →

The Absolutely Everything I Have Learned About Speech Delays Entry

This one is going to be all boring gritty speech delay details, y'all, with assvice and requests for further assvice and probably a minimum of I-got-drunk-and-fell-down-ness, even though I DID fall down this weekend and still have gravel in my palm. I wasn't drunk, I was just running late for a showing of the latest Harry Potter movie (and of course by "latest" I mean "the one that came out months ago") and I tripped and fell off my so-last-season shoes. (Request for Non-Speech-Delay Assvice: How do you get teeny little specks of gravel out of your palm, especially after... Read more →


I've decided to start taking Tuesdays off. Officially. No writing. No email. No nothing. (It's going super well today, obviously.) It's really more for Noah's benefit than mine -- so I can get him OUT OF THE HOUSE and expose him to VARIOUS ENRICHING ACTIVITIES, or like this morning's playdate at the National Building Museum (with Vickie and Teo), the chance to play with aballs that were slightly different than any of the 14,200,003 aballs we have at home. Oh, and then he started going up to random adults in the room and signing for milk, because his asshole mother... Read more →


Noah's vocabulary, two months ago: aball, adada, ababy, sort-of star, sort-of banana, sort-of car. Noah's vocabulary, today and right now: aball, adada, amama, ababy, star, banana, car, truck, choo choo, boo boo, bye bye, bubble, pop, singing, bib, eat, ruff ruff, TV, yum, cat, bike, box, bag, hot. He knows the signs for eat, more, shoes, cracker, cold, ball, star, banana, bread, play, hurt and cry. He hardly ever tantrums anymore and walks flat-footed most of the time. He invents games and makes jokes and follows directions. He uses his imagination and knows most of the alphabet. His favorite book... Read more →

What We Do When We're Not Making Fun of the Dog

The distant future, the year 2000... No more agriculture. No more war. No more racism. No more fighting, squabbling, or rumbling. No more...yogurt. Robot 1: The humans are dead. (Robot 2: Yes they are dead.) Robot 1: The humans are dead. (Robot 2: I confirm they are dead.) Robot 1: It had to be done. (Robot 2: They look like they’re dead.) Robot 1: So that we could have fun. (Robot 2: I poked one, it was dead.) 0000001! 00000011! (Try this at home tonight! Supplies needed: wine box, scissors, toddler, and humansaredead.mp3) Read more →

Lard Dog Responds

I are not fat. I are victim of sensashunalistic tabloid society and unrealistic body image ideels. Also bad camera angles. Feel v. exployted. Gained two pounds mebbe. Small one says I can has waffles. Look at face and say I cannot has waffles. Go on. I dare. Snausage is teh new hourglass anyways. Read it n Vogue. Would open VMAs next year and look wicked hott but are boycottin with my boy Kanye. Love, but u cannot has be under my umbrella becuz u called me fat, Ceiba! Read more →

Like Tears of a Clown: The Fat Rolls of a Pursedog

Since her last public appearance on this blog, Ceiba has porked up a little. A tad. A few pounds and ounces. A mere 25% of her body weight. Or so. Where mah spangly bra and hotpants be at, bitches? The scientific community is baffled, as her kibble -- her healthy, low-fat, high-protein, crazy-expensive for the preshus-shookie-ookie-kums kibble -- remains largely untouched. And yet there's something about the neck rolls and rotund torso that suggest WAFFLES. LOTS AND LOTS OF WAFFLES. I can has chili cheez fries? OMFG SMALL ONE HAS COOKIE COOKIE COOKIE Eh. Fuckkit. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz Max is also overweight,... Read more →