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December 2007
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February 2008

I am not your 28-pound monkey.

I am not your monkey because I am not here to entertain you today, but rather to seek ur knowledge and drink ur branes. You are MY MONKEY today. Answer my query, monkeys! And try to keep the feces-flinging to a minimum. QUESTION: How old were your kids when they stopped insisting on being carried everywhere? Did you indulge this insistence until they got over it themselves or did you ever just put your foot down and make them walk places on their own? And if you did that, how did you deal with the boneless-floor-puddle-thing? Leashes? Shoulder-socket transplants? Games... Read more →


It's Another Blue's Clues Day. On the Couch. Winning Mother of the Year.

Whenever I happen across a blog entry about someone's kid having the stomach flu, I always cluck sympathetically, and then CLICK CLICK CLICK AWAY EW PLEASE DON'T TALK ABOUT YOUR KID'S VOMIT. Commence clucking, y'all. And the little X up in the corner over there will show you the way out. Noah woke up wailing around 3 am last night. "A MESSTH! A MESSSSSSTH!" he sobbed, pointing despair at his bed. He cared much less about the messth he made in our bed an hour later, and an hour after that he was over messthes completely and viewed our proffered... Read more →


The Neenee of the Heart

When you have a speech-delayed kid, you will be constantly warned not to imitate their pronunciation, no matter how adorable it may be. When they butcher a word, you are supposed to model the correct pronunciation. You will be told this is very, very important. I have a very, very hard time remembering this. "Buddy, do you want some muck?" I ask while pouring the milk. "MMMMMMUCK!" he shrieks and nods his head. "If you are a good boy, I bet you'll get a baboonay," I tell him at Trader Joe's. "Yaaaay baboonaaaay!" he shrieks and eyes the balloons at... Read more →


Jesus Wants You To Get Out Of My Flipping Sunbeam

Or, Turf Wars Among the Small Ones Or, Geez, Amy, Maybe You Should Turn Up the Heat? I SENSES WEAKNESS. You think I care, dogthing? I HAS A TENT. SHADOW DOG IS SHADOWY. YET...OMFG IS THAT KIBBLE? Mwa ha ha. Mine. All mine. There was a brief stand-off...and then... Blue Steel FTW! aka I Will Fuck You Up And Good, Dogthing. *sniff* (Okay, so this was terribly non-dramatic in the retelling, and not nearly as amusing as actually watching the every-changing-custody of the sunbeam, and wow, I'm actually now kind of ashamed that this is the sort of thing that... Read more →


Honestly, if I'd remembered he was home I would've just made a damn sandwich

"What are you eating?" "Olives." "Olives." "Yes. Black olives. What?" "You are eating olives out of a bowl. With a spoon." "Well, eating them straight out of the can is too messy. Plus I could cut my hand." "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" "I've been working from home a long time, dude. I've picked up a few tricks." "If I were the Internet I would swear you are pregnant right now." "I am 100% not pregnant. And you don't even want to know what I ate when I was pregnant." "You ate Indian food. And... Read more →


Lunch Bunch Dropout

So I quit Lunch Bunch yesterday. And the one-on-one occupational therapy. (The eyeballs of several trolls just rolled completely out of their heads and out into traffic. Quick! Run after them!) I pretty much knew it was time to quit after last week, and then Noah's success in his Thursday Non-Lunch-Bunch class confirmed what I already suspected: Noah did not like his occupational therapist, and she didn't quite seem to like him very much either, and no, the marriage could not be saved and was probably doomed from the day she walked into our house and then tried to rub... Read more →


Let's Just Call This One "Tuesday"

Yes, Internet, I fully and openly admit to coasting. Both emotionally and editorially. I have not updated since Thursday, greedily allowing the comments to build and build and pile up, checking in every hour or so to boggle at the number and inform Noah that OVER 200 PEOPLE -- WAIT 250! WAIT WAIT 271! -- give a rat's ass about the fact that he had a good day at the Mock Preschool For Children Who Can't Talk Good And Wanna Learn To Do Other Stuff Good Too. Also? We've just been so good over here. Noah's little day of victory... Read more →


Run-on happy

I'm afraid if I try and do that thing where I put on my little serious writer's cap and try to write something eloquent and/or witty I will actually ruin this moment because I just can't wait to get the words out and tell everyone that Noah didn't cry at class today at all and I was in the next room the whole time supposedly getting taught how to teach my kid to talk but I really spent the whole time listening for his screams and when I didn't hear them I asked one of the veteran moms if the... Read more →


Global Heartwarming

Last spring Noah was burned pretty badly on a playground slide. I remember the details exactly -- how fearless he was when he scaled the equipment, how he obediently plopped his bare chunky legs down on the tall spiraling slide while I nagged from below (SIT! SIT! Good baby!), how he slid just far enough to realize that the morning sun had made the slide intensely hot, but too far to stop and climb back up to the top. He froze, his arms and legs went stiff against the sloped sides. He pulled his palms off the slide and wailed... Read more →