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April 2006
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June 2006

Urban Wildlife Encounter

Attention citizens of Washington, DC: If you have misplaced your shopping cart full of shoes, I may have found it. So I've been making a concentrated effort to take Noah for a walk outside every day. I don't really enjoy it as much as you'd think, mostly because it is 1) outside, 2) not inside, and 3) full of nature. But after two full weeks going by where I realized that I NEVER LEFT THE HOUSE, NOT ONCE, I decided that my child and I were getting our asses to the fucking playground, come hell or high water, if only because the playground is close to the Starbucks where I could get in my daily quota for face-to-face human interaction by ordering an iced coffee in a non-baby-talk voice. So far, getting out for walks has not been quite as treacherous as other outings, mostly because there's no deadline. Except for the vague idea of "later." (Digression: That's actually the best part of staying home with a baby. Your deadlines are fluid. Your time is not structured. There's no one to judge you for just how much time you spend chomping on the baby's thighs. You can do work unshowered... Read more →

The Wednesday Redirect Smackdown!

Hey! Kids! The Wednesday Advice Smackdown is up over yonder at Alpha Mom. The Alpha Child, seen here being raised in captivity. And there's actual original content that will probably include a lot of bad words coming to this very site later today.* *No warranty is implied by use of the word "today." Today is void where prohibited and your mileage may vary. The author of this site takes a very subjective view on the definition of "today," because to hold the word "today" to some kind of set block of hours would be attempting to define time itself. It would also be incredibly insensitive to our overseas audience if we were to automatically assume "today" fell into a North American time zone. And it would not take into consideration the unpredictable sleep habits of the average eight-month-old human or the fact that the author of this site is a lazy, lazy bitch. Read more →

Gods & Monsters

Noah waits quietly for the god inside the big glowing box to reveal himself and speak his gentle message of love, tolerance and Elmo. For everybody who asked about the baby jail: it's called the Superyard XT . It's nothing really special -- certainly nothing we spent hours researching the safety of or the studying the current research on the most visually-stimulating plastic lattice-work. It also takes up our entire damn living room, but it keeps Noah's noggin away from the vicious gangs of roaming Ikea furniture. And for that, I salute it. I salute you, baby jail! Keep on with your confining, frustrating self! It is also handy for crushing the destructive hopes and shoe-chewing dreams of the average pursedog. Also, I want to pass on one more big squishy collective thank you to EVERYBODY who commented and emailed about the churchy post. You guys are amazing and I really hope y'all are coming to Blogher so I can give you hugs when I'm all drunk and ungodly and shit. Please get me back to my hotel room when I reach this point, is all I ask. Read more →

A completely inoffensive post, except possibly for the jokes about drunk babies

You know how sometimes you hit the "publish" button and then immediately cringe? And wonder if maybe you should not have hit that button? And then you brace yourself for the comments and the emails and then you pour yourself some wine and maybe lie down for a little bit? And then everything is fine? And the comments and the emails are kind of fucking mindblowing because there are so many people out there who GET what you were trying to say and GET who you are and are maybe just like you? And it's such a relief, because when you are basically and publicly giving the finger to the teachings of childhood (Scarlett O'Hara: Oh, I know there's a hell. I was raised on it!), no matter how gently, you kind of can't help but be all kinds of twitchy and vulnerable? And for like, 24 hours, it's all awesome and kumbayaish. You know? And then the tone of some of the comments starts getting a little...snippy? And you get maybe an email or two that...well, frankly, they can go to hell too, blah, whatever...and then you know that fabulous dialog about spirituality vs. religion vs. upbringing vs. conscious... Read more →

Class of '96

I just sent in a check and RSVP card for my 10-year high school reunion. I have no idea why I'm going. A couple months ago, Dooce wrote very eloquently about why Big Love makes her, as an ex-Mormon, uncomfortable. Oddly enough, the very next Sunday, The Sopranos featured a go-nowhere storyline about a fundamentalist Christian pastor visiting Tony in the hospital while on a break from a protest about pharmacists being forced to dispense birth control pills. Tony expresses concern about dispensing Viagra, correctly drawing the line from point A to point B in the drugs-that-have-to-do-with-S!-E!-X! spectrum. The pastor smiles and tells Tony that he’d never have to worry about Viagra, because of procreation-blah-blah-blah-double-standard-cakes. He then attempts to witness to Tony and get him to accept Jesus into his heart. The whole scene unnerved me like crazy. I had to leave the room. I grew up in the fundamentalist evangelical Christian church. I was a born-again Christian. I went to private Christian schools my entire life. And I was into it. Every Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night were spent at church, no matter what, and my weekends were filled with at least one youth group activity. I... Read more →

It's Especially Good Because I Could Really Go For Some Pinot Grigio Right Now

IKEA: 1 BABY: 0 MOTHER: self-medicating You know what though? I'm totally not going to play this all coy and cutesy and "oh I'm the worst mother ever, boo hoo hoo" so y'all will make me feel better about the three-inch gash and goose-eggy-black-and-blue mark on my baby's head, because right after it happened I was able to find an ice pack that came with my breast pump and didn't have to use our wine bottle cooler. I may actually be the greatest mother of all time. Edited to add: I am not making this up! Three inches! Red! Swollen! It is just not a very photogenic wound. Read more →

Preshus Parenting Moment #7852

Being out at brunch with an impeccably-behaved Noah, sipping on a delicious wild berry mojito and holding Jason's hand across the table as we gazed and beamed at the perfect golden child we produced, through the power of our love and DNA and maybe a little drunken sex, right as Noah took a grunting, red-faced and flatulent poop while the woman at the next table desperately tried not to laugh at us. (Jason changed the diaper. It took 20 minutes. I drank his mojito while he was gone.) Read more →

The Starbucks at the End of the Universe

So let's say you have plans to meet someone at a nearby Starbucks at 3:45 on an average Thursday afternoon. Let's say this person is actually another blogger who, by all accounts, is quite fabulous. Let's also say that you are pretty much a total shut-in these days and the whole endeavor is pretty much the social event of your week. (We don't even need to say how pathetically sad you are, because honestly, YOU ARE PATHETICALLY SAD.) 2:00 pm Hey, you know what? I should totally leave now. I'd be all early and relaxed and delicately sipping a non-fat latte that I totally won't spill on the baby when she arrives instead of flying in all hare-brained, disheveled and late like I usually do. 2:03 I could take my impossibly tiny new laptop with me and write a blog entry! Or maybe even a book! 2:04 Oh my God, TOTALLY. I could get at least one, maybe two whole chapters written! I will sit in the plushy chairs by the fireplace and maybe get part of the proposal done too. 2:06 Also should find an agent. Can you find agents on Google? 2:10 Should probably give Noah a bottle... Read more →