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November 2010
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January 2011

Some Quick Desperate Dispatches From Ye Olde Vomitorium

I had a great post half-written in my head for today. The big news this week is that I started feeling that "quickening" thing, where you first start sensing your very wee fetus moving around. It's a couple weeks early this time, but I'd know that prickly bubble-popping tickle anywhere. But then when I went to type it out my hypothetical entry this morning -- after a loooooooong day of dealing with a fetchy, irritable and slightly-ill toddler followed by an even looooooooooooooonger night of getting up every hour on the hour for Vomiting Preschooler Duty, trading off responsibilities of back-rubbing/comforting/fresh jammies/fresh sheets/etc. with Jason -- it kind of looked something like this: Verg! Blabbity. Farfenneurgen ALL CAPS bleurgen blee. Right around this time I myself was suddenly hit with the urge to make a mad dash for the bathroom. And not for one last round of morning sickness, I am pretty sure of that. So you know what? I was saving this for a special occasion, but here. It's pretty cute, right? I'm asking honestly, because I don't even know anymore. Freaking cheeseball infectious germbags, the both of 'em. Read more →

Tidings of Great Cranky Joy

Here are some of the better choices for our holiday card this year. It's gonna be a good one, I bet. So that's one montage option, there. Or we could so with some of these priceless expressions: And then this was our final attempt, which involved bribery with slightly decrepit pumpkins and handing Ezra entire fistfuls of very small rocks: At this point I am a little tempted to just crop out everything other than the matching sweaters and find a card design that says LOOK, AT LEAST WE TRIED, OUR CHILDREN ARE TOTAL GOOBERS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS OR WHATEVER THE HELL. PS. Top Chef recap! In which I spend about two zillion words describing a TV show that you probably watched, and therefore already know what happened. My life is filled to the brim with meaning and purpose. PPS. I haven't thrown up since Sunday night. So that's exciting, no? Again: a life of meaning, purpose, and many other assorted scintillating details that keep you coming back to this blog again and again. Read more →

500 Postings About Hair Dye & Hot Dogs, Yet No One Ever Asks About The Risk Posed By Zombies

Last week, someone linked to a verrrrry old post of mine, one I'd almost forgotten about. Even though I think I originally intended to spin it into a regular feature -- a weekly round-up of the ridiculous questions people post on pregnancy message boards and those user-powered question and answer things that quickly tend to devolve into ill-informed leading the illiterate. I abandoned the idea of it becoming a regular thing once I realized that: 1) The questions all get damn repetitive after awhile, to the point you get so sucked in and desensitized that you start thinking it's perfectly reasonable to post three dozen different questions about the listeria risk of deli meats but what about bologna or hot dogs or Slim Jims or sliced cheese and should I get my stomach pumped because I put lox-flavored cream cheese on my bagel OMG?* and 2) I kind of felt mean, picking on other pregnant women who are just trying SO HARD to do everything SO RIGHT and it's not their fault if their doctors aren't explaining things very well or their first-grade teacher failed to leave them with any real grasp of the alphabet. But hey! Once a pregnancy... Read more →


Those of you who have been reading for some time now -- particularly the stuff I've written about Noah over the past three years or so -- may remember The Thing About Birthday Parties. (For those of you who haven't been reading that long: The Thing About Birthday Parties is that Birthday Parties Suck Elephant Ass, Most Of The Time.) But we went to a birthday party on Friday night -- the birthday party of the very same little boy whose at-home, laid-back party was so perfect for Noah when I wrote this post, almost exactly a year ago. The party that came just hours after one of my lowest moment as Noah's mom, a moment that left me frustrated and angry and embarrassed and...scared. So very, very scared. This year's party was not at his house, though. It was at one of those dreaded kiddie gym places, with the parachute and the games and the singing and a good dozen activities with a dozen transitions in between. Basically, EXACTLY the sort of party we have avoided for years now. A ton of kids, a ton of colors and music pumped in over loudspeakers, with lining up and taking turns... Read more →

We Called Them Rinse & Spit Cups, Even Though We Never Did Either Of Those Things

This photo is for my sister, who is currently pacing a hospital waiting room while her daughter, my niece, undergoes emergency gallbladder surgery. You know, for kicks. Yeah. It's kind of an inside joke. Which would ideally involve each and every one of those cups filled with shots of contraband Pinot Grigio. On Christmas morning. While huddled in the guest room under the guise of last-minute present wrapping. Which may or may not have actually happened. Anyway. Between that and another week full of chemo treatments and bargain-basement platelet counts, I'm in a giddy sort of limbo where I don't feel particularly funny, nor do I feel capable of being all maudlin and introspective. I'm just sort of spent. Maybe I just need a drink. Or a hug. Or some kind of chocolate-y boozy drink that could be the equivalent of a hug. Come to think of it, those mini-sized Dixie cups seem like the perfect serving size for a pregnant woman to safely consume alcohol in moderation. Plus look! At the packaging! The cups have ARMS. I feel comforted already. Meanwhile... 1) I am recapping Top Chef All-Stars this season at Mamapop. Unfortunately, several of my personal Top Chef... Read more →

The 10 Stages of Narrowing Avoiding a Speeding Ticket

Note: This post is a work of complete and utter nonsense. Any resemblance to actual bloggers living or typing this exact sentence is purely coincidental. Stage One: Obliviousness La la la laaaaa, I am driving. I am driving somewhere important, though not like, political thriller or apocalypse movie type important, where I'm driving to stop an assassination or fleeing a giant fireball of lava, but important to ME, and my little life, and I matter. I am a person with meaning and purpose. In fact, I am BUSY and IMPORTANT, so get the fuck out of my way, all you other assholes on the road! Zoom! ZOOMZOOM! Stage Two: Oh Shit, That's a Cop Right There Self-explanatory. Stage Three: Endless Possibilities of Hopeful Hope & Optimism Maybe the cop already pulled somebody over? Maybe he's just sitting in the car minding his own business? Filling out some paperwork? On the side of the highway? Just because? No? Maybe the radar gun wasn't aimed at me? Maybe the car in front of me? Maybe I wasn't actually going that fast? Maybe he saw how great I just was about slamming on the brakes to slow down so he knows that I... Read more →

Zah's Take

Meanwhile, this one has no idea what's going on, new-baby-wise. Then again, he thinks he's holding an "apple" when it is CLEARLY a thoroughly zested orange. Silly toddlers. They're just not that bright sometimes. (I'm kidding! My child is of course frighteningly brilliant and amazing and the smartest child to ever respond to the announcement of a new sibling living in Mommy's belly with blowing a big fat raspberry on that belly right before declaring said belly "funny" and "squishy" and "jelly" and OKAY KID, we get it, you know a lot of words but that's still totally not an apple, SO THERE.) Read more →