Hi! Good morning. Welcome to the most depressing day of the year! Also: amalah.com is going on hiatus for a little bit. Sorry this is abrupt (and probably stinking of dramatics) (I promise it's nothing more exciting than some run-of-the mill burnout, an overwhelming desire to punch myself in the damn face after every sentence I write, plus WAY TOO MUCH WOW WOW WUBBZY, WHICH IS TO SAY, FOUR MINUTES OF IT), but I just need some time off. Maybe leave the house, or something crazy like that. I'll still be posting at AlphaMom and ClubMom, and I'll be back here in a week-ish. Or so. Have a good week, and by the way, your ass looks fantastic in those pants. Read more →

Noah doesn't smell like a baby anymore. I don't know when it happened -- but at some point, despite using the same old lavendar soap and powder and Desitin, he lost that baby smell. His head smells like hair, and his skin has taken on a new scent -- one I can't describe, because it's just his smell now, a combination of lotion and detergent and body chemistry. In a way it's even better than that baby smell, because it's Noah, the fully-formed little person version. It's like the way I can sort of smell Jason just by thinking about him, and the way I remember what my mom and dad smell like, and exactly three of my ex-boyfriends. He doesn't look like a baby anymore either. He's still got a round little belly and dimples on his fingers and elbows, but everything else is lean and undeniably boyish. His little bow legs have straightened out and the chubby thighs have vanished into muscle, and a thin coat of blond hair is growing in. I look at photos from just a few months ago and am floored by how different he looks now. I want to dress him in feetie... Read more →

Hi! Guess what! I'm not posting anything here today. Because I have decided to move all of Noah's furniture from the small green bedroom with two windows to the not-quite-as-small blue bedroom with one window. By myself. Because I have decided that this is terribly important and must be done immediately and I know Jason will totally argue with me and say that Noah is FINE in the green bedroom and that we are NOT moving his furniture when we just paid people to put it there less than a month ago, so this way, I'll have all the furniture moved before he gets home and then he will have no choice but to help me paint over the blue this weekend. I'm thinking a soft green would look nice. Anyway, that's what I'm busy doing right now, but I'm taking a break because the changing table is currently stuck between the doorway and the stairway banister and I am kind of not sure what the hell I'm supposed to do about that. However! There are nice long personally-type posts over at ClubMom (the three-day-a-week posting schedule? is nice. lets me wait until I actually get sort-of inspired to post.... Read more →

AAEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. No wait, let's try that in Swedish: IIIIIIKEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAA! Enough said. Except that I got a pot rack for $9.99, a really cute clock that ticks SO! FREAKING! LOUD! and a dozen picture frames in a size I do not have any pictures for, like fuck, dude. Oh. And did you know the post office sends you coupons when you move? Including a 20% off coupon for IKEA? Did you know that coupon does you no good if you leave it at home? Oh. And we bought Noah a giant inflatable turtle. Because we really, really suck at the whole "OMG HE LIKES IT LOOK HE SMILED AT IT WE MUST BUY IT SO HE MAY IGNORE IT COMPLETELY ONCE IT IS TAKING UP COPIOUS SPACE IN OUR LIVING ROOM" thing. Still, is pretty cute, no? Hint! It inflates with a hair dryer and not by blowing into it for 20 minutes, dumbass. Read more →

In light of our renewed pledge to provide our toddler with the best and most-watchful parenting available on the market today, please allow me to document his activities over the last 48 hours or so : 1) Climbed upstairs without either of us noticing until we heard the sound of a toilet flushing repeatedly. 2) Threw Jason's wedding ring into a floor vent. 3) Ate dog kibble. Twice. Because hey! It's better than pizza and chicken fingers and spaghetti and cheese and beans and peanut butter & jelly and all the other vile things we tried to feed him. 4) Ate rice crispie treats for dinner, because hey! Rice is healthy! 5) Found that damn box cutter I've been looking for for WEEKS now. 6) Got bodyslammed by a 13-month-old on a playdate. 7) Threw the mother of all holy terror tantrums at Gymboree over a plastic maraca; please note that he got a set of maracas for Christmas that he remains wholly unimpressed by; and also that Bilingual Sign Language Genius Child's mother was nearby to give me a very sympathetic cluck of her tongue. 8) Watched Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Thought it was rad. 9) Chewed on a... Read more →

(Yes! Still talking about it. Like anyone is surprised.) (Overreaction: It's what's for dinner.) I'm feeling much better today, thanks to your comments and generous doses of brackets, and also all the wine I drank last night. Which was probably a little much for a Monday. Or a Friday. Or for the average human liver. I still can't stop reliving it: the metal clang, the mysterious thumps, the terrified wails, the feeling of my feet skidding on the Pergo as I dashed around the corner, the sickening sight of that open gate and then...oh god oh god...my little boy lying facedown at the bottom of the stairs. I know, I know. "BOY" is the operative word there. He's going to fall down the stairs and off his bike and the roof and trees and roller coasters and God knows what else. But you know, indulge me here, since I'm not used to this injury shit yet. Or the sensation of my heart leaking out my ears. That's definitely a new one. As I tried to comfort Noah and convince him that everything was okay (even though I had no idea myself and was desperately trying to squeeze various body parts... Read more →

So I was working on another entry -- one I've been bashing around for awhile, one about motherhood and the fears and feelings of inadequacy I used to have, and oh, how SILLY those fears seem now, in the thick of the glorious love I feel for my sweet little son, a love that gives me confidence and a remarkable feeling of ease in my own skin -- when I heard a tremendous crash. Noah figured out how to open one of our baby gates (TAKE THAT, BILINGUAL GENIUS GYMBOREE CHILD) and fell all the way down the basement steps. There was much screaming and a bloody nose and another black eye. He's fine now. But I think I need a hug. And maybe a boost so I can get back up on my damn parenting high horse. Thanks. *whimpers* Edited to add, now that I've stopped shaking too much to hold the camera steady: Basking in the warm healing glow of the television. Because there is NO END to the fabulous parenting around here. But hey, you shoulda seen the other guy. Read more →

Things My Child Can Say, Kinda: 1) OGGIE (doggie) 2) NI NI (nite nite) 3) NO NO NO (hell to the no, woman) Injuries My Child Sustained When I Insisted on a Little Damn Privacy to Pee, Please: 1) Wipeout on step 2) Bruised cheek 3) Black eye Things My Child Will Eat: 1) Yogurt 2) Peanut Butter Crackers 3) Board books Things My Child Will Not Eat: 1) Anything else Thing I Said In Emails To People This Week: 1) Um! Hi! Can I have your address again so I can send you a sympathy card? For your dog? Also, what up, homie? 2) I swear, that kid will get into Harvard one day and her mom will take all the credit for it because she took the scenic route before dropping her off at the SATs. 3) Did I birth a green bean? Things I Ate In My Own Home, From My Own Kitchen: 1) Pear, endive & watercress salad 2) Fig balsamic-glazed duck with pearl onion and pear hash 3) Sea bass with Moroccan salsa 4) Super quick minestrone 5) An entire block of Vermont cheddar cheese Things I Strongly Considered Purchasing: 1) An elliptical machine 2)... Read more →

(The title of this post is how you are required to say "Dog Park" in our house, by the way. You are also permitted to rap on a nearby surface. However, so far I seem to be the only one following this rule.) So. The dog park. It's not really an OFFICIAL dog park...just a random open field that the Dog People have claimed as their own. There's actually a sign that says THIS IS NOT A DOG PARK, which everybody ignores. The flagrant law-breaking impresses me, actually, as you know I have a documented fear of Imaginary Authority Figures, so I always take Ceiba's leash with me, just in case the police show up to make examples of us all and we need to scatter, a frantic mob of dogs and tennis balls and plastic baggies full of poop. And I imagine the die-hard Dog People will be yelling about how it doesn't matter, they'll be back on the field in a couple hours, maaaan, and maybe a small crowd of die-hard Non-Dog People will show up to cheer the police on, and at this point I realize I've got my imaginary cops decked out in full riot gear... Read more →

Don't you hate it when bloggers post apologies for not posting? Because what, like you have nothing better to do than come to their dusty little site and refresh constantly, looking for some drivel to relieve the unending boredom of your day? Like you are hanging on their every word and when they go a couple days without posting you start wondering if everything is okay, because if they are not writing on the Internet they simply cease to exist, because your personal view of reality involves a little too much YouTube and not enough fresh air? Please. Whatever, Miss Fancypants Blogger Person, whatever. Sorry for not posting, everybody! Everything is, duh, fine. I've just spent a few glorious days being extremely selfish and offline and mostly just not doing anything remotely post-worthy. I've been enjoying my little family and cooking some amazing food because the novelty of the new kitchen hasn't worn off yet, and holy crap, I would have eaten a bowl of those creamed leeks for breakfast this morning if I hadn't eaten them all last night. (We made them with fat free half & half instead of whipping cream, by the way, because good lord, did... Read more →