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June 2011
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August 2011

Only In Dreams

I have dreams about him. In my dreams, he is a composite of himself: He's wearing the ivy style hat and long coat he wore to his teaching job every day of my childhood, but his face is older. He's holding a briefcase, but wearing sneakers. His hair and beard are fully gray, but thicker than it was at the end, after the chemo. The glasses he's wearing are from some fuzzy, unspecific point in between. They are not happy dreams: "What are you doing here?" I asked him in the very first one, bubbling over with joy. "Your mother died," he said simply, and walked away. W. T. F? I immediately woke up and texted my mom -- something unrelated and upbeat, just "cuz" -- and then sat in terror as the hours went by without a response and I wondered if I could fake it through a phone call without letting on that OH HI YOUR DEAD HUSBAND TOLD ME IN A DREAM THAT YOU DIED BUT YOU ANSWERED THE PHONE SO I GUESS YOU'RE GOOD OKAY SO NEVERMIND. Kind of a day-ruiner of a dream, to put it mildly. Since then, his presence in a dream unsettles... Read more →

Five Weeks

Baby Ike! Is five weeks old! He weighs nine pounds! And five ounces! Holy cats! HE IS STILL VERY CONCERNED ABOUT MANY THINGS. ALSO SKEPTICAL, BUT MOSTLY JUST OF YOU. Anyway, in honor of this momentous occasion, I thought I'd go all service-y and listicle-ish and whatnot and tell you about some of the Shit We Bought That Ensured Everyone's Survival During The Past Five Weeks. But don't worry, I'll keep inserting random baby pictures for those of you who could not give less of a crap about the wordy word parts of this blog. IKE'S FIRST FIVE WEEKS WERE BROUGHT TO YOU BY*: 1) Miracle Blankets and Aden + Anais Swaddles: Technically, we only really swaddle in the Miracle Blankets . No matter how hard I try and how many time I've re-read the instructions, Ike can break his arms free of the Aden + Anais blankets. This would not be a problem if say, he PREFERRED to have his arms free, but instead, he fights the blanket and frees his arms in 15 seconds flat and then three seconds after that he's all, OH MY GOD HORRIBLE ARM-FLAILING FREEDOM THIS IS TERRIBLE HALP. Exhibit A, Babies Make No... Read more →

It's Tradition, Dammit

Hey, so you know what happens when you get an email from your blog provider that reads, "The credit card on your account expired. Please provide a new one within X number of days or else you won't be able to post on your blog?" And then you forget to provide a new card within X number of days? You totally are not able to post on your blog! Just like they said! I know, right? And then you're like, OKAY FINE, WHERE'S MY WALLET and you can't find your wallet and you're like, SCREW THIS, IT'S A HOLIDAY ANYWAY and you put it off again and then you find your wallet the next day and finally update the card information...only to realize that this exact anecdote about mildly suspenseful credit card hijinks is the ONLY INTERESTING THING YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT ON YOUR BLOG. And then you're like, I REALLY SHOULD REEVALUATE MY LIFE. ALSO STOP USING CAPS LOCK SO MUCH. But hey! I've been saying both of those things since I started this blog back in 2003. And hell, if I can't even be bothered to find my wallet within a perfectly reasonable, specified time frame, I'm... Read more →

Brotherly Warfare

Yeah, yeah, right. They're all cute and cherubic until one of them skips his nap and a full week of all-day summer camp starts to wear on the other one and there's an attempted drive-by head-smacking incident at the dinner table and the next thing you know the little one has both fists full of his older brother's hair and is kicking him repeatedly in the face and you're like, WHAT THE FUCK, GO TO BED and they whine and protest (because clearly, they were having SO MUCH FUN) but then they go up to their room and you hear... THUMP THUMP THUMPTHUMP *waaaaaaaiiillllllll* ...and you run to the stairs and the little one is howling from halfway down (I ROLLED! I ROLLLLLED!) and the older one is standing at the top and you're like, EXPLAIN YOURSELVES, YE MONSTERS and he's all, WHAT UP I KICKED HIM DOWN THE STAIRS and no sooner than you get that crisis sorted out and scolded and life-lessoned do you realize that yet another full-contact wrestling match has erupted in the bathroom over a Lightning McQueen toothbrush (OF WHICH WE OWN TWO, BY THE WAY) and you start wondering if this is a situation... Read more →