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October 2008
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December 2008


So I think I've officially lost my sense of humor about this whole House of Doom and Germs and Fluids Leaking From Everybody's Headholes thing. Perhaps I left it at the pediatrician's office this morning. Perhaps I'll call and see if anyone has noticed the smell of death coming from their Lost & Found. Today's photo, if I chose to illustrate our plight, which I won't, because it's fucking disgusting, would feature the red oozing eyes of both Noah AND HIS MOTHER, who are sporting matching cases of pinkeye. Noah is also covered in a horrible itchy rash, which I initially brushed off as a run-of-the-mill viral rash, but now appears to be an allergic reaction to -- get this -- the Method Baby detergent I bought for Ezra's clothes. We typically use the Seventh Generation Free & Clear detergent for Noah's clothes, and YES I KNOW, I don't need special baby detergent, but that Method stuff smells so damn good I was helpless to resist it. (Seriously. That shit will make you LACTATE, it's so baby-fresh-delicious.) But my mother-in-law took control of the laundry this week and actually did laundry so often that she was able to COMBINE Noah's... Read more →


Presenting the most pathetic little being on Earth: Red, swollen, watery eyes, a runny nose and the teensiest little sneeze you've ever heard. Yep, that's a three-week-old with a cold, right there. He put up a good fight all last week, when the first wave of preschool germs took the rest of us down, but THIS COLD, THE NEW ONE, well. Even an exclusively breastfed infant* can't withstand two full weeks of his mother sneezing directly on his head without eventually succumbing to the Ick. I really wanted to update yesterday -- what a day for radio silence, a day when I finally could write about something other than my children or my boobs or the giant chunk of wall the plumber took out in my living room**, especially with my ultra-conservative in-laws visiting and thus forcing me to scale back my gleeful victory dance back to a small silent one, using only my index fingers*** -- but found myself capable of little more than whiiiiiiiiinnnnning about how siiiiiiiiiiick I was, falling victim to the famed blogger compulsion to go on and on about the miiiiiiisery of our cold symptoms, giving the world more metaphors for post-nasal drip than the... Read more →

Housekeeping Not Involving My House

Honestly, I could do an entire photo essay about nothing more than the various large, gaping holes in my walls and ceilings at this point. There are at least seven of them, and I am getting better at ignoring them every day. It's like hands-free breastfeeding. It just takes practice. Anyway. Website housekeeping! Exactly the kind of post everybody hates, but please. I just had a baby. I bought clothes and diapers for a linebacker and gave birth to a peanut. I thought the two Miracle Blankets we received as gifts (thank you Michael and Amy!!) would be enough but now! I know! You can never have enough Miracle Blankets! Miracle Blankets are a gift from God himself! The gift of sleep and silence and showers -- all in a miraculous blanket form! I came into the bedroom this morning to find the dog sleeping on our LAST! CLEAN! MIRACLE BLANKET! and I nearly killed her right then and there, but then I remembered that Ezra is our second child, and that I could maybe use the lint roller on the blanket instead of rewashing it, but then I couldn't find the lint roller and just sort of shook it... Read more →

Not Ezra's Birth Story

I've officially started working on Ezra's birth story. So that's...coming up. And all. Just FYI. So, fine, technically all I've done so far is write "Ezra's Birth Story" in the title box and saved it as a draft. What? I didn't say it was coming up in like, the next five minutes or anything. In the meantime, HERE! HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS! BECAUSE I NEVER JUST FUCKING POST ENOUGH PHOTOS! The Storch is strong with this one. I'm not entirely sure my genes were even in the room this time. Family members agree that he looks a lot like his Great-Great-Uncle Morty. Who looked exactly like what you would imagine a Great-Great-Uncle Morty looked like. When I was a little girl, I used to pretend that I was a mommy to identical quintuplet girls. Their names were Priscilla, Penelope, Tiffany, Princessia and Rosepetal. I'm thinking that real life turned out much better. Noah's also been much better. When he acts up (and it's nothing major, like hitting or running out in the street or drag racing down at the old culvert for pinks), we ignore him. Turn our backs, leave the room, refuse to acknowledge the Fit of Brat. When... Read more →