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May 2009
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July 2009

I remember Alexa once asked her readers when, exactly, babies grasp the concept of gravity. Or at least begin demonstrating a goddamn lick of SENSE. I admit I didn't read the response in the comments. Frankly, I was afraid the answer would be 42. Ezra is...oh God, he's killing me lately, with his countless, endless, senseless attempts to kill himself. He's still trapped in this hideous stage of pre-mobility, where he doesn't crawl or roll so much as LAUNCHES his body in various directions. If that direction happens to have a soft surface or a paying-attention-type person handy, or at least be free of sharp edges or bottomless furniture-to-floor chasms, well, bonus. But he's not going to be picky about it, or anything. He doesn't pull up on things nearly as well as he pulls them OVER, and yesterday he spent 20 minutes trying to pull up on our coffee table but kept scooting his body UNDER the coffee table, and then thwacking his head on the underside when he tried to stand up from this wedged-in position, and while I never, ever want to disparage my brilliant, adorable children, our cat used to do the same goddamn thing with... Read more →


Off To a Good Start

While waiting to pick Noah up from his first day of camp, another mother cheerfully cooed to Ezra and asked about my sling and lamented that her son would never let her use one, but sighed and said she hoped her next baby will be more accommodating. She patted her stomach, which did indeed look rather pregnant, but you know, I'm not saying a damn word unless I see some damn placenta on the sidewalk. I nodded and admitted I never had much luck getting Noah to sit in a sling either, but raved about what a lifesaver it's been this time around. Look at us! Two moms, hanging outside of summer camp, just like any two moms outside of any summer camp, with none of the shadowy adjectives that were oddly absent from the camp signage. Little Friends In Motion, it said instead. It's not occupational therapy, it's fucking toddler pilates. We collected our older boys and continued to chat on the way back to our cars. Noah was wailing because he didn't want to leave and (as I would later learn) because his shoes were full of dried beans and sand from the camp's own shoebox obstacle course.... Read more →


It occurred to me that I never wrote about our orientation night at Noah's summer camp from a couple weeks ago. Perhaps I initially decided that it was a boring topic that no one cared about. Perhaps I was more than likely right. But camp starts on Monday and I JUST finished filling out all the case history forms and permission slips and assorted release forms this morning, so needless to say, I've got Occupational Therapy Camp on the brain in a big way. The camp is nice. The camp will be nice. There are three motor skills gyms, a 1:1 ratio between therapists and children and two field trips to a therapeutic pony farm. Every Friday is Water Day, with inflatable pools and sprinkler toys. Noah will have a blast, and hopefully we'll see some real steps forward. Jason was thrilled and pronounced the expense officially more than worth it -- a fucking bargain, were his exact words, I think. I agree. Of course, me being the big fat stupid pessimist who wore the wrong shoes and had a headache that was totally probably brain cancer had to go and get overly sensitive and philosophical as we wandered the... Read more →


Despite some threatening poses, Ezra is still not technically for-real crawling yet. He rolls, he scoots, he hurls his not-entirely-under-control torso towards the edges of furniture while I desperately lunge for his ankle like a clawless bear batting at a salmon, but he is definitely not yet achieving true forward propulsion with a purpose. (People like asking you if your baby is doing such-and-such yet. Usually because it's a skill THEIR baby mastered two months before the milestone chart said he should have mastered it, and they know this. Also because they are assholes. No, my three-month-old isn't saying "Mama" yet, what the fuck? Yeah, and my four-month-old still flops over sideways if you try to make him sit up on his own. Which I do. While yelling "TIMBER!" It's a teaching tool.) (Honestly, Ezra has taken his time on most of the big motor-ish milestones like rolling over and sitting up and...I don't know what else he's "supposed" to be doing now. Second children definitely get the "ehhh, fuck it" benefit on this stuff, plus a better appreciation for how simple life is before mobility is attained.) (Not that Ez isn't brilliant in his own brilliant way, or anything.... Read more →


(Suck on THAT post title, TinyURL!) Four solid days of zero Internet access. Once I got over the initial convulsions and hallucinations of trolls and unanswered important emails and OMG What Topics Are Trending On Twitter RIGHT NOW, the symptoms eventually settled into a vague itching sensation. Although...on second thought, maybe it was just sand. It looks sort of like food, but doesn't taste like food, but maybe I should eat it again, just to be sure. Nope. Not food. On the Naughty Seat (damn, those things are EVERYWHERE) for throwing sand. Can't you feel the love? The last time he went anywhere near the water of his own free will, thanks to a Father-Son Wave Incident on our first day there. He really loved the pool, which was thankfully indoors and a good retreat for when the weather turned to absolute ass. Of course, if you comment that you'd never know I was at the beach, what with my continued winter whiteness, I will probably cry a little bit. But I did read the shit out of a couple novels with zero literary value but a ton of sex scenes, so it's not like I accomplished NOTHING all weekend,... Read more →


I'd Say Something About REALLY Needing This Vacation...

...if only I didn't have to take my beloved rotten children with me. (Alternate Title: My Own Unintentional Personal Testimony to Bad Mothering) SCENE, YESTERDAY AFTERNOON, ABOUT 24 HOURS AFTER I WARNED JASON ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF NOT PUTTING THE BABY TO BED IN JUST A DIAPER, AS HE'S BEEN GETTING A LITTLE GRABBY WITH THE VELCRO TABS ON HIS SUPER-FANCY CLOTH DIAPERS, AND ABOUT TWO HOURS AFTER I PUT HIM DOWN FOR A NAP WEARING ONLY A TOO-SMALL DISPOSABLE DIAPER BECAUSE I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE RETRIEVING A SUPER-FANCY CLOTH DIAPER FROM THE DRYER ALL THE WAY DOWNSTAAAAAIRS WAAAAHHHH I'M TIRED I heard Ezra stirring in his crib and I went immediately to collect him waited until he sounded good and mad before getting up off the couch. I walked into his room. His diaper was off. There was...oh my God. Everything. Both. Everywhere. The sheets were soaked in three distinct places. And the...yeah. All over the sheets, the crib, THE BABY. The baby who lifted his head and beamed ear-to-ear when he saw his loving fucking horrified mother and that's when I saw the poop all over his FACE and immediately rushed over to rescue the poor thing from... Read more →


23 Minutes

Dear Well-Meaning People At Our Vet's Office, I know. I KNOW. He LOOKS CUTE. He's all blondish and be-dimpled, dressed up exactly like a real live human being with the polo and the shorts and the sandals. He'll tell you his name and his dog's name and his baby brother's name (though probably not in the same order you asked the questions). In other words, he LOOKS like the kind of kid you can win over with stickers and small plastic dog figurines...and inviting him into the back while you administer our dog's Bordetella vaccine sounds like a great idea, except for the part where you can't and it totally fucking isn't. I don't know. I DON'T KNOW. He loves stickers! Especially circle stickers! Small plastic choking hazards are his FAVORITE! I don't know why today he's decided that stickers are the equivalent of putting dirty Band-Aids on his shirt and small plastic dog figurines are like, beneath him or something, God, and why his only true love in the world is your ceramic business card holder. Wait. That one I know. Because it is 1) Breakable, and 2) FULL OF A MILLION AND ONE FUCKING BUSINESS CARDS. I do... Read more →


Picture of the day: I would have cut the crust off your sandwich for you, kid. All you had to do was ask. Secondary picture of the day: Story of the day, in which my husband goes to extraordinary lengths to conceal the fact that we'd forgotten that the refrigerator repairman was coming to the house and were not home at the agreed-upon appointment time: We were at a park with the boys when Jason's phone rang. He recognized the number and was all, OH SHIT OH RIGHT THAT, but instead of answering like a grown-up and admitting that hey, we're not home right now, something came up, give us 20 minutes before you send the guy over (as they were only calling to confirm our at-home-ness before dispatching the repairman), he inexplicably launched us all into a confusing campaign of intrigue and subterfuge, opting to call them back once we were on our way home to claim that oh yes, my wife is at home, I don't know why she's not picking up the phone there, maybe she's outside! Let me try to reach her.... Read more →


After spending most of yesterday debating whether or not to reschedule an appointment for a professional family portrait session because Noah had a Raging Fever of Mystery, we decided to go ahead with it. Five minutes before we needed to leave the house, Ezra pitched headfirst off of our bed and collided with a scratchy wicker laundry basket on the way down to his ultimate faceplant on the floor. Because Mama was busy putting on mascara. I mean, of course I was. The evidence of the fall is JUST as pretty and photogenic as you can imagine. That can so be Photoshopped, right? Hell, I managed to fix it pretty well with just the eraser tool and some camouflage in Microsoft Paint: See? All better now. On the plus side, Ezra suddenly started waving HI! HI! HI HI HI! to everybody he meets, which is just as adorable as you can imagine. I mean, holy crap, it's cute. Except for maybe today, when he frantically flapped his hands at dozens of strangers while we were out at lunch, and the gesture could have easily been translated as HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT WHAT THEY DID TO MY HEAD. YOU GO CALL... Read more →


Today was the last day of preschool. A stunningly non-momentous occasion, made even more so by the facts that the end-of-year party already happened yesterday, and that our classroom's little fake diplomas had mysteriously gone missing. We were presented with a laminated piece of construction paper with a poem on it instead. I'm sitting here staring at the thing, thinking...well, I guess I'm supposed to keep this, because they LAMINATED it, but...eh, I guess I'll just put it up on the fridge, or something. Or in this nice pile of bills. The year ended with a whimper and a sensory bang, as Noah whined all the way to school that he didn't waaaaant to go to school for the paaaaarrrrty, he waaaaaanteeeed to goooooo toooo Bennnnnjaaaamiiiinnnn's houuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssse, and we were late and I was annoyed and had left my coffee on the kitchen counter and realized that the baby had horked blueberries onto my boob and was busy trying to adjust the sling to cover the stain when Noah took one look at the brightly-decorated classroom, with paper lanterns and inflatable beach toys hanging from the ceiling, and decided that whining was not enough to express his displeasure and launched... Read more →