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 plastic trash can as just getting in the way of his good time, man.

This continued all night and morning and well past the time when it finally occurred to Jason that he had a JOB he could go to instead, fuck this noise.

(Tangent! Did you know that the Noggin network airs 24 hours now? [Much to the despair of dozens of tweens who depended on the 6 pm switchover to Degrassi reruns, I'm sure.] But did you know that this is a LIE and an ILLUSION and if you actually do decide that all you need in the world is a damn episode of Blue's Clues or Dora or holy hell, I'd even accept Little Bear at 4 in the morning, you will instead be confronted with bizarre Barney-like imports from the mid-90s that involve a lot of neon and a bunch of very, very tall children playing leapfrog and singing to the camera with eyes that clearly say, "I AM GETTING NO RESIDUALS FOR THIS, THANKS MOM.")

(We switched to Cartoon Network and watched old Hanna-Barbera cartoons that were chock full of ethnic stereotypes and cavalier attitudes towards cigarette smoking instead.)

So while all plans for today were obviously hosed, we've managed to stay entertained, mostly through the power of Photo Booth, which Noah absolutely loves now that he's made the connection that WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY to record his every move and mug and deep thoughts on aballs.

(One day we're going to have to have a talk about where blogs come from, but I am not ready for that, frankly.)

Anyway, since I have sheets to wash and odors to...deal with...I'd like to present Noah's First Podcast. Today he'd like to talk about Dogs, Dessert, the Firefox Whee! Video and also Some Random Point On the Ceiling He'd Like Us All To Look At.

The Noah Report from amalah on Vimeo.

Uh. What up?

I just got back from New York, where I've been for several days now. Alone. With a toddler.

I don't even know where to begin. The screaming? The train? The 150 pounds of luggage that contained zero pairs of socks? The screaming? The getting locked out of an apartment by two semi-naked toddlers and having to explain how THAT HAPPENED, EXACTLY?

Fine. I'll start with this. More tomorrow, or...you know, ish.

Rockstar Lifestyle from amalah on Vimeo.

Life. Too Boring for Words.

Wow. I did...exactly not one interesting thing this week. I...unloaded the dishwasher a lot? I hid brussels sprouts in a fruit smoothie? I wore my cute new jacket from Target and bought Noah a new hat?

Yes. All this, AND MORE! In the span of five whole days! Man, life is a crazy buzz sometimes.

Yesterday Noah and I trekked up to Baltimore to hang out with this lunatic for a while a few hours longer than appropriate straight on 'til bedtime.

Tracey and I got into a very heated discussion re: megapixels, and our differences could only be solved by blinding each other with camera flashes while shrieking our heads off.

It made a lot of sense at the time.

We were both admittedly pretty jealous of M's stylin' pink camera, though.

The original idea was to sign some important business-y work-y type paperwork for mamapop.com (I'd rather not be sued for defamation by Britney Spears' busted-ass weave, you know? It looks litigious.) and let the kiddos work on their "sharing."

Noah got his first taste of the Barbie accessories catalog and Halloween Oreos.

Step One: Lick.

Step Two: Dilate pupils.

Step Three: RUN RUN RUN MUST CONSUME ENTIRE COOKAY NOM NOM NOM.

Anyway. That was yesterday. It was nice to get a little change in scenery and sit on a different couch for awhile.

Today? We're back to our usual routine of thrilling, intellectually stimulating conversation, with a hefty side portion of dimples.

choochoo from amalah on Vimeo.

Speaking of choo choos, next week Noah and I will be taking one to New York to visit my sister for a couple days. By ourselves. Because this seemed like a good idea once. Because I am crazy. May God have mercy on my crazy soul.

Post-Processing

Please indulge me, because this is exactly what I needed today.

Professional photography by Kaileen Galhouse.
Music: Calico Skies by Paul McCartney

(Last year's session with Kaileen is here, if you're in the mood for TWO sappy montages and a good dose of OMFG WHERE DID THE BABY GO?)

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 because he tells me. 

There's so much I don't know about this motherhood thing and every day I'm reminded that I've yet to really learn who Noah really is, as his own little person.

So much to learn. Together. What an amazing gift and a privilege.

Noah's second birthday from amalah on Vimeo.
Music: Together by William Shatner (featuring Lemon Jelly)

Happy Birthday to the coolest little boy I know. 

Her Fanbase is Skewing Younger

Two videos in a row? Fucking cop-out, man.

But I thought some of you -- particularly those of you who declared Noah some kind of musical prodigy a couple weeks back -- might be interested in Noah's opinion of the new Britney Spears single?

I mean, everybody's got an opinion on her comeback chances, but WHAT DO THE TODDLERS THINK?

Personally (and provided that Death Is Not An Option), I prefer Gimme More, but Noah seems to dig Cold As Fire.

Noah and Brit Brit from amalah and Vimeo.

It's got a better beat than the Wiggles, I'll give it that.

(Have a great holiday weekend, peeps. Don't sprain anything while busting moves at da clubs.)

Multimedia

Okay, now that I think we've got everything working with the new design, and now that my designer is off to Ecuador, thus fleeing the country and my emails, let me see if I can completely blow it the fuck up by posting a video window that will probably be too wide for the margins. Come on, it'll be fun!

It seems like people are still questioning the proper pronunciation of "Amalah." AIM-a-la. Like how you pronounce Amy? AIM-ee? Oh, whatever, here's me having a conversation with my dog about it.

AIM-a-la from amalah and Vimeo.

I probably should have enunciated Ceiba's name a little better too, now that I think about it. Her name is SAY-bah. Again, whatever, I don't even correct our vet anymore.

Just be happy I didn't name my kid D'Artagnaienalyah or something. Because you know it was on our short list.

Speaking of Noah, hey! Remember that time we qualified for free speech therapy? Our first session is on Tuesday morning.

He's made some progress in the past few weeks, although nothing to suggest that a true language explosion is right around the corner -- he's still gaining language right in step with a five- or six-month delay, but progress is progress, and I'm extremely confident that he's going to respond really well to the therapy. Plus, it's like free babysitting. I plan to paint my toenails.

We scored a gigantic set of Signing Time DVDs this week. My expectations were...not very high, since I've been faithfully signing (More! Milk! Eat! All done! Cookie! Cracker! WTF!) with Noah for over a month now and he's shown the same level of interest as back when I tried the infant signing with him. Which to say, zero. Mom, you're so lame.

But we started watching them about two days ago, and Noah...well, he likes them, but he likes pretty much everything on the glowing teevee box, especially since we've drastically limited his intake of Dora and Blue.

Well, let's not get CRAZY here. We do need to be good playdate hosts, now.

He wanders in and out of the room, which is fine, since I prefer that to the enthralled, slack-jawed video stare (see, uh, above), but I doubted he was actually taking any of the signs in, especially since he continued to pointedly ignore my clumsy attempts to sign along.

This morning he finished his milk and cereal and then, without a moment's hesitation, he said "eat" for the very first time while making the sign for "more."

Uh. Holy crap.

Baby Einstein? You just got PWN3D.

Amalah's Got Talent

But not as much as her kid, who is clearly ready to cut a demo.

Twinkle twinkle...sort of from amalah and Vimeo.

(Please note that you should never put your barely suppressed stage mother tendencies ahead of your child's physical safety. Wow. That's some gooooood parenting right there.)

(Also good parenting: the absolute and very last diaper in the entire house is the one currently on my sleeping child's butt. That's gonna be a FANTASTIC post-nap jaunt to the store, let me tell you.)

Taking My a'Drinkin' Skillz to the Next Level

On the off-chance that our trip to New York and the fourteen million pounds of pizza we consumed there were not QUITE enough to sufficiently celebrate Jason's birthday, we continued the birthday blowout extravagaaaaahnza with a bus trip to the always gorgeous Virgina wine country on Saturday.

It was awesome. One person puked on the bus on the way home and another fell out of her seat and into the aisle and still did not wake up. Meanwhile I was engaged in a high-level discussion about racial profiling with a nice young man whose family bought his ticket for Father's Day but did not accompany him. He assured me he actually preferred it that way, and also, NO, the fact that he, Jason and I were relatively sober after consuming just as much wine as Ol' Pukey and Ol'FallOuty McDrunkAss over there was NOT a sign of serious alcoholism, it was a sign that I needed to pass him a damn plastic cup, he was opening another bottle.

Also: I learned how to open a bottle of bubbly with a sword, people. A fucking SWORD.

Wine Viking from amalah on Vimeo

Yes, I biffed it the first time, which made the wine foam when I tried again, but the cork landed in the hat I was aiming for, so: 1,000,000 FREESTYLE POINTS! RADICAL TUBULARNESS. YOU HAVE ACHIEVED DRINKING NINJA STATUS.

The trick also works with a chef's knife, as I demonstrated last night in our backyard because I cannot get enough of my new stupid human trick.

This could get expensive, and also somebody is probably going to lose an eye.

(Noah had yet another nice day with Grandma and Grandpa. They worked on painting Noah's Room Take 2, Big Boy Edition, Now With 100% Less Bunny Rabbits and 100% More Breaking of Mama's Heart.)

ABlooper Reel

Presenting! Some footage shot during three days of nonstop attempts to get Noah to say "ABEAH" clearly on video ("What's this, Noah? What's this called? Huh? Huh?"), and also preferably a clip that did not involve 1) possible poisonings, 2) propane and/or head injuries, 3) blank vapid stares, or 4) an actual abeah.

Because, you know, I wouldn't want the Internet to know what a shitty parent I am. At least not right away. Maybe a few days later, when I was feeling lazy and didn't want to actually write anything.

Abeah Abloopers from amalah on Vimeo

I swear, that kid misses his mark almost every time. He'll never be an Olsen twin at this rate, dammit.