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July 2010
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September 2010

My Natural Born Talent. Let Me Show You It.

Hey! Remember when my mom gave me that big stack of embarrassingly preshus mementos from my childhood? And I was all gung-ho with the scanner for a few days there, on a gleeful stretch of self-mockery, until I guess I got distracted by something shiny (or maybe my toenail polish, or wondering where I got this bruise from, or the construction of that pneumonic burrito delivery device) (I mean, have you tried applying for all the necessary patents for shit like that? It's a bureaucratic nightmare.) and...wait, what was I talking about again? Oh right! The scanning and the bag o' relics were promptly forgotten about for awhile there. Until today! Now, I've already shown you my very, very first attempt at short-story writing, but this little book...well, this was EPIC. This was my MAGNUM OPUS. This was a coloring book my six-year-old self procured during a family trip to Arizona, but each picture faced a blank page, designed for you to write a story or poem or something about the picture. (The pictures were by artist Ettore DeGrazia, and I believe this was purchased at his gallery's gift shop, where I was suddenly struck with the realization that I... Read more →

The (sick-as-a) Dog Days of Summer

Noah doesn't go back to school until next Tuesday. SeeyooooNextTuesday, is how I feel about that, especially since we received a good dozen letters stating that the first day was August 30, TODAY, before we got a letter saying that haaaaa, suckers, the preschool students start a week later. You were punked! Hope you weren't doing some kind of calendar countdown with your stir-crazy kid or anything. We attended the school's open house on Friday, even though Noah will be in the same classroom with the same teachers and most of the same kids, but hot damn, that was a good hour of SCHOOL-LIKE ACTIVITIES in a spot that was NOT OUR HOUSE, so we were going and we were going to enjoy every damn minute of it. And we did! Until we all got sick, thanks to our glorious reintroduction to community toys and community germs. I spent most of the weekend complaining about "allergies" until I woke up this morning like: Oh. Not allergies. Plague and pestilence, more like it. The previous three paragraphs were brought to you by Advil Cold & Sinus. Not like, sponsored post money brought-to-you-by, but like, my head is stuffed with cotton balls... Read more →


My post about Noah and the little boy next door was a finalist for Blogher's Voices of the Year. Karen Walrond provided a gorgeous photo as its "inspired by" companion piece for the art gala and charity auction at the conference -- I posed like a total dorkwad next to it so Jason could take a terrible photo of me posing like a total dorkwad next to it, and someone asked me if I was the artist. No, I said, but pointed to the tiny fine print underneath that said my name and post title. I wrote that. The nominated posts weren't actually there or printed, so she asked me what the post was about. I struggled to sum it up concisely, and in a way that would make sense with the stunning visual of the delicate, high-flying kite in the photo. Another little boy gave my son a second chance to rise above his challenges, or something like that. Noah never got a third chance, unfortunately, with that particular little boy. After the newness of his younger playmate wore off, and his general curiosity about our house and What Interesting Toys It Might Possibly Contain was satisfied, Sammy quickly... Read more →

There's No Crying In Blogball

It's been brought to my attention that my last couple posts have made a somewhat extraordinary number of you cry. At work, or other embarrassing places/occasions to be caught crying. Obviously, I assume MOST of you are exaggerating for the sake of affect (takes one to KNOW ONE, if you know what I mean), but I guess I do need to take some of you at your word and apologize for all the virtual sucker-punches, and promise that there will be nothing of the sort in today's entry. (BAM! SUNRISE SUNSET! MAGIC BABIES! PERSONAL GROWTH AND SHIT! GRAINY iPHONE PICTURES BECAUSE MY REAL CAMERA IS BUSTED! BAM BAM BAM!) (What? No good? Not doing anything for ya? Oh well.) Let's see if I can inspire some different emotions today. First up... ANGER I finally typed "Mockingjay" into Google this morning to figure out what the freaking frack everybody was talking about on Twitter yesterday, and what exactly we're giving away on Mamapop today. Spoiler alert! It's a book! Now here is my dilemma: 1) Take all of you at your word that it's omg!thebestthing!ever! and start the series at the beginning, looking for all the world like a shameless fad-follower... Read more →

A Letter To My Baby

Dear Ezra, Today is not any sort of official milestone or marker -- you're 22 months and nine days, if we're counting. You're almost two, if we're giving out the simpler answer to folks at the supermarket. "Wow," they say. "Such a big boy." Which makes me laugh, because I'm sorry, it's increasingly clear that your big brother got the height in this family -- the long lanky limbs and the giant feet -- and that you are our solid-but-pint-sized 7th-percentile-for-weight scrapper, much to your constant frustration. Noah's hand-me-down orange Crocs that are still a tad too big = the only shoes you want to wear. You're right in between the combo sizes but I tracked down a sized style and bought them for you. They are red and blue, because I could not find orange, although I promise I looked. I TRIED. You were pleased for a few days and then revolted, violently. You scream and tantrum every time I try to put any other non-orange-Croc-like shoe on your foot. You climb up the stairs just to dramatically slide back down, as if that will help convey the depth of your displeasure better than all the crying and tears... Read more →


Last night we took the kids out for dinner. We'd heard about a nice-sounding restaurant with a "kids eat free" night on Sundays, and we're always, ALWAYS trying to find places that fall within that elusive category of Noah Can Order A Damned Grilled Cheese Sandwich But Mommy And Daddy Can Order Something Besides A Damned Cheeseburger. This place looked like it might fit the bill. I missed the thing on their website about the magician, though. We didn't know about the magician until our waiter stopped by to check in on us -- yes, yes, everything is fine! The food is delicious! Love the kids' bento-box style meals! Ezra ate every bite, including the entire section of ketchup, and Noah still cannot BELIEVE he just got a side of Goldfish crackers AT DINNER, like ARE YOU KIDDING ME, OUT-OF-CONTEXT SNACKTIME, THIS PLACE IS AWESOME -- and he told us that a magician would stop by in a few minutes to show the kids some tricks. Uh-oh. Right on cue, Noah started to protest and amp up into a fight-or-flight level of worry. "No magic! No magician! I don't want a magician! I don't want that!" Jason and I hugged... Read more →

A Day Without Internet

It turns out, if I deliberately decide to stay off the Internet* for an entire day, that I am downright PRODUCTIVE. Possibly even bordering on COMPETENT. The first order of business yesterday was a playdate, and don't you love that while I would never betray the sacred trust of What Happens on a Playdate, Stays on a Playdate and actually TELL you about the playdate, I still feel compelled to tell you that yes, I totally fucking had a playdate, motherfuckers. I have friends and am in demand for social gatherings with other human beings. WHAT UP. PLAYDATE. (She's probably reading this, by the way, so I will thank all of y'all to make me sound awesome in the comment section and not say anything about that time at the place with the thing. You know what I'm talking about.) So anyway, I decided to clean the house before the playdate. (Playdate! Playdaaaate!) And I realize this is completely 1) lame, and probably 2) cheating, because there's usually some unspoken arrangement between women that we're only supposed to express shame over the messy state of our homes and one-up each other regarding our failures. HOSTESS: I am sorry the house... Read more →

I Have a Bad Ceiling About This...

I just heard Noah say that. Or more accurately, I just heard a Luke Skywalker action figure say that to a very small Darth Vader Lego figure. I am mining the tired trove of My Kid Says The Darnedest Things today because that same kid managed to somehow delete the ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS video I originally planned to post today at I am now at a complete loss because NOTHING WILL EVER COMPARE TO THAT VIDEO. It has officially morphed into the single greatest two minutes of footage in the history of humanity, I am pretty sure. It was so great that I am seriously considering packing the kids in the car right now to go back out for a reshoot, like, perform, my little content monkeys, PERFORM! Dance! Or in this case, wallop each other in the aisles of ToysRus with oversized plastic lightsabers while your parents cackle at your pint-sized choreography and dream of viral fame, HAAAAAA, it's funny because you're nerds. Already. So soon. Anyway, that's all ruined (GRUINED! as Noah would say) now, because he deleted the whole thing off my phone. I honestly don't know how I can possibly be expected to accomplish all my vitally... Read more →


My kids have never been exposed to many commercials. Though only in the strictest sense of the word: I am fully aware that NickJr. advertises the shit out of other NickJr. shows and products under the guise of: "LET'S GET UP AND MOVE WITH THE FRESH BEAT BAND, EVERY WEEKDAY AT 4, YAY EXERCISE!" "LET'S GO BEHIND THE SCENES AT THE THEATER FOR A LOOK AT A CARTOON-TIE-IN LIVE SHOW THAT WILL COST YOU $375 AND YOUR WILL TO LIVE, YAY CULTURE!" "LET'S LEARN TO SAY IT TWO WAYS WITH DORA AND PROMOTE SPANISH LANGUAGE LITERACY, YAY COMING ANCHOR TERROR BABY APOCALYPSE!!" (Ooh, topical.) But thanks to the cable networks and TiVo, they (so far) have mostly been spared seeing the kinds of commercials I remember from the Saturday morning cartoon block, where every toy was the most amazing fucking toy in the history of the fucking universe, oh my God, go wake up your mom RIGHT NOW and start screeching about her hair grows all by by itself AND she goes potty AND she has fairy wings AND a matching purse AND a dreamhouse with a jacuzzi sold separately AND you can put GLITTER in the jacuzzi until you... Read more →

What It Looks Like

A lot of families, as part of the path to diagnosis and treatment, videotape their children's behavioral...quirks, I guess. Tics. Possible symptoms. Just so the doctors or therapists or evaluators can "see" what you see at home. We've never done that, at least on purpose. Noah's school does a lot of videotaping for therapeutic/assessment purposes, but I've always just INTENDED to capture the normal happy fun stuff. I say "intended" because if I go through old videos of Noah I'm often kind of retroactively shocked by something we inadvertently captured that's like, "THAT. RIGHT THERE. THAT TURNED OUT TO BE THING." Noah tip-toeing across the living room; screaming in terror the first time we put him on a teensy pedal-less baby tricycle; telling some great-sounding story that we would only later realize was little more than an echolalic script. We're still in insurance limbo. We haven't heard the results of our last and latest appeal, which will dictate whether we get to 1) file a grievance with the state, or 2) finally get a couple months' of bills paid right before filing for YET ANOTHER request for an extension of benefits, bwaaaaaaaaahhhhzzzzzzzbbbtttt etc. I also need to go back to... Read more →