Wednesday, August 31, 2011

End of Summer

Hi there, people!  Tomorrow is September - no joke! - which means, meteorological calendars aside, I am declaring an end to summer and the beginning of autumn.  I love the fall.  As a longtime student and sometime teacher, fall has always meant new beginnings and fresh starts to me.  SLB and I got married in early September for this very reason.  September is a breath of fresh air and a chance to start anew.  It makes me think of newly sharpened pencils and possibilities.  In this calendrical and inspirational vein, I'll be starting some new writing projects on and off of this blog soon.  Summer's over, and it's time to hunker down and do something good, dammit.  But, until midnight when I become all virtuous and productive, let's linger over fine summer memories, shall we?

Like that time I took Livy to the Ballard water park, where she proved that a fleece Viking hat is, in fact, all-weather gear.

Pillaging knows no season.

Or that time I rode a mechanical bull in Las Vegas.

In hindsight, the blouson peasant top wasn't my most flattering bull-riding option.  Learn from my example, people.


Or that time I made forty-freaking-eight cupcakes, along with forty-freaking-eight cupcake toppers for Livy's 2nd birthday party.

I'm crafty.  I'm just your type.

Because I have an embarrassing tendency to do dumb things like this in the presence of a camera...

... let's let this sweet picture of Liv and her good friend Margaret stand in for the touching one of Liv and me that never manifested.

Or that time we went to the Oregon coast to play and to Sauvie Island to meet some new friends.

Livy LOVED the beach...

...

...

... until she didn't.

Handsome Baby Jake may be Sauvie Island's newest resident...

... but Livy preferred the goats.


Or the time we saw my boyfriend Steve play at the Snoqualmie Casino.

Flawlessly silver.  Flawlessly foxy.

Or that time I read 9 horny vampire novels in 6 weeks?

So far #9 was the best.

Or that time that Toddlers & Tiaras started making sense.

Bathing, basking belly.

As you can see, it's been a fantastic summer for frolicking and fun.  But my pencils are sharp, the tags are freshly off of my school clothes, and I've got a Trapper Keeper full of fresh college-ruled paper.  Summer's been great, but fall is here, and that's time to shine.

Monday, August 08, 2011

Potty Book Rundown

We are currently entering a new phase of Earnest Potty Training here at Me Show Central, which is different from our usual Lackadaisical Potty Experimenting in its first and third words only.  Basically, we've regularly put Livy on the potty to do her dirty bidness a few times a day ever since she could sit on the seat without toppling over.  Sometimes magic happened, and sometimes it didn't.  Now that she's older and more communicative she's started asking to use the potty and/or displaying more blatant potty cues, and so we have more magic than not-magic.  Thus, the countdown to potty training has begun by small degrees.  There is a distant light at the end of the potty tunnel, and we're slowly inching toward that dry, clean, fresh-smelling light.

To aid in this endeavor, we've been collecting potty books for some time.  These are 3 of the best.

1.  Potty by Leslie Patricelli
Happy nakey potty baby!  Dang, I want one of my own!

This is an adorable little board book that's very accessible to toddlers just becoming familiar with the potty concept.  

Pro:  I really appreciate the line about the baby being able to go in her diaper, but choosing not to.  I also love the illustrations of her waiting for the magic to manifest.  

Con:  The final image is of a collection of underwear with the exclamation "Undies!" written above it.  Yes, I know that undies are the final goal, but the implication that one successful potty trip leads immediately to undies is misleading and rushed.  It's hard work to learn how to use the potty, and I'd rather that work (and setbacks) be acknowledged than glossed over.

I don't care if the spider is a friend in every Mercer Mayer illustration; I will always, ALWAYS want to squish it.

As a kid, I was a huge fan of Mercer Mayer's Little Critter books, and it was with nostalgic glee that I bought this book about Little Critter's little sister learning how to master her pink potty.  Overall, it's a great book for all beginning potty-ers: not too long to lose the younger set, and not too simple to bore the big kids. Plus, it has illustrations of pee in it.  How can you go wrong?

Pro:  There are accidents in this book, and they're handled gently and normalized.  Little sis can't make it to the potty a couple of times, Mom cleans her up, and life goes on.  Then she gets it, successfully masters the potty and her new undies, and lives happily ever after.

Con:  Seriously, is Mrs. Critter a member of a fundamentalist LDS cult?  What's with the neo-Little House dresses, and where's Dad in this story?  Alas, in the Critter world, as so often among humans, parenting is women's work and moms wear shit fashion.  At least Little Critter is learning this early so he can take his rightful place in the Critter patriarchy with no qualms about his gendered entitlement.  Also, I hate that Goddamn spider.

I used to have Jolly Roger underpants, too.  One time, when I had lost a lot of weight after drinking the water in Mexico, my pants fell down in the esteemed Benaroya Hall and all of Seattle's symphony-goers got to see them, the lucky bastards.

This book is the newest in our potty collection and is a gem of its genre.  We bought it during our recent trip to the Oregon coast, and Livy has demanded that we read it before every  nap- and bedtime since.  It's got adorable illustrations and hilarious text, including two pirate songs about having to go and waiting to go potty.   Brilliant!

Pro:  The line about the little pirate making "the greatest, grandest pee and poop ever" alone is worth it.  The pirate language is adorable, and the author fully commits to it throughout the book.  For example, the little pirate yells "anchors away!" as he flushes and "swabs" his hands on a towel after he washes them.  

Con:  The book comes with and mentions within its story a paper pirate hat and stickers to be used as rewards for successful potty-going.  While this is a fun idea, I'd rather that Livy's motivation for going on the potty remain intrinsic for as long as possible.  I want her to go because it makes her feel proud and grown-up, not because she'll get a sticker on a paper hat if she does.  Research shows that extrinsic motivation for a task can ruin adults' experience of performing it even if it had previously been considered pleasurable.  I don't know whether and how this affects toddlers, but I'd rather not play around with it if I don't have to.  Praise and pride are enough for now, and stickers will come later if we absolutely need them.

These are clearly not requirements for potty training, but they do make it more fun and open opportunities for talking about going potty throughout the day.  But, at this point it's still a no-pressure prospect.  After all, as the venerable Captain McCluskey says, "You gotta go, you gotta go."  And as long as she keeps going we'll keep practicing getting the location for that going right.


Monday, August 01, 2011

Buy Yourself That: Addition to the Emotion Coaching Funpak of Yore

Parenting peeps:  Remember that one time when I wrote about all of the emotion coaching materials I was accumulating and then surprisingly that became one of my most popular posts at the time?  Of course you don't! You're all too busy expertly coaching your children in identifying and managing their emotional lives!  But, lucky for you, I remember, and I have a new addition to that collection.

Usually I'm not a huge Sandra Boynton fan - when she hits (The Going to Bed Book and Barnyard Dance have wonderful rhythms, adorable illustrations, and a loyal following at Me Show HQ) she hits directly, but when she misses (But Not the Hippopotamus is so tragic that I don't know how it got through editing - poor armadillo!) she misses completely.  Because it's firmly on the side of the hits, Happy Hippo, Angry Duck might be a new favorite.

Duck, how can you be so angry when you're so very delicious?

What it lacks in the honky-tonk rowdiness of Barnyard Dance and the gentle lull of The Going to Bed Book it makes up for in great illustrations of different emotions for toddlers and preschoolers.  The simplicity of the title belies its inclusion of more nuanced feelings and the culminating message of acceptance of and help for unhappy kiddos is reassuring even to jaded old readers who should be above finding solace in cardboard books with fewer than 100 words.  I highly recommend it to all parents who'd rather their offspring learn to develop emotional maturity as children rather than amuse themselves with narcissistic blogging as adults.  By which I mean all parents everywhere.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Equilibrium

(First, a warning to my readers with delicate sensibilities.  This post is full of lewd jokes and double [even triple!] entendres.  So, if you're made uncomfortable by this kind of talk [DAD], then please look at this instead.  All others please proceed.)

Friends, I have good news and bad news.  The bad first.

The Mariners are trading Doug Fister, whose name has brought me endless joy and jokes, to the Detroit Tigers.

Awww, come on!  Hasn't Detroit been fisted enough?

Now the good news:  In exchange we are picking up Charlie Furbush.  Did you catch that, subtle readers of this subtle blog?  We traded FISTER for FURBUSH.  I guess one in the fist really is worth fur in the bush.

Everyone likes a freshly shaved Furbush.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Buy Me That: Microphone Necklace

Because nothing intoxicates me as much as the amplified sound of my own voice, I must purchase this necklace

"Is this thing on?"

to accompany this shirt, an old favorite that I desperately need to replace now that my outlandish mom bosom has rendered it obscene.

"Oh, yeah.  IT'S ON."

And, as a treat for you readers, here is a picture showing me firmly in my element.  Here I am chaperoning prom in 2008, dominating the stage and soundwaves with my earnest yelling and wearing a totally jackass outfit.  Ah!  The memories!  The years of consistent and endless jackassery!  Beautiful nostalgia, take me away on your ear-splitting wings!

Nothing says "the best night of your high school lives" like this lady right here.  REALLY, REALLY LOUDLY.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Hey, Look II

I like blogging.  I want to keep blogging.  I also like Livy, and I want to protect her privacy and respect her autonomy, such as it is.  So this is going to be much less a mom blog than a blog by a mom.  Sure, I'm going to occasionally write about Liv, but it's kind of embarrassing how much this project became about mediating her experience and making her an object onto which I could project all of my funny mama commentary.  So, less baby exploitation and more personal awesomeness.  And if she ever in the future expresses that she doesn't want to be blogged about, then she'll disappear forever from this blog.  The last thing we want is one of these overexposed critters on our hands:

Enough said.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Bought Me That

This is usually the first thing I see every morning when I wake up.


It's balanced delicately on the windowsill opposite my side of the bed, and it's such a joy to wake up to it backlit by the morning sun.  Yes, it's goofy, but so am I, and I take my inspiration where I can find it.  Find yours here.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Happy Birthday, Olivia Lee!

Mama's little baby is 2 years old!

Day 1

Day 365

Day 730

Happy birthday, sweet biscuit!  Mama and Daddy love you!

Birthday tickles > birthday spankings

Monday, July 04, 2011

Hey, Look...

I'm starting to question the ethics of writing about my daughter online for my own and others' amusement.  Here's why:  She's turning 2 next week.  I can remember my 2nd birthday.  Thus, Livy, to my sick mind, has become her own sentient being and, as such, deserves to live without having her experiences mediated by her sarcastic mother for the delight of a small but awesome audience.  So, the question now is whether to continue this blog without Livy as its focus, whether to make the blog private and continue posting our family and Livy's development for a select group of family and friends, or whether to shut the whole damn thing down and focus on living my life rather than editing it into (hopefully) charming nuggets.

So that's where things are here.  I love the idea of blogging, and I love the attention it demands garners, but this little project can't continue as it currently stands.  So bear with me while I figure this out.  Or don't, seeing as how the figuring might end in a big, fat goose egg.

SLB has just informed me that it's "kinda meta" to blog about blogging.  I have informed him that he is "kinda awesome."  And so are you, kind readers.  So are you.

xo

Thursday, June 16, 2011

A Few Of My Favorite Things

Among other things, I really appreciate:

1.  Baseball, and
2.  Jokes about body fluids

So you can imagine my delight when I saw this ad in the "ladies'" room at Safeco Field last night.









That there is an ad for tampons that uses a sports metaphor in a spatially appropriate and effluvially hilarious way.  Hurrah, Playtex!   I salute (if not purchase) you!

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Hold on! I'm comin'!

I've either had houseguests or been a houseguest out of town for the past 3 weeks.  Give me time, minions.  Mama's returning soon.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Bizarre Love Triangle

A snippet of today's conversation.

Mama:  (softly, adoringly at her cherubic only child)  Livy, I love you so much.

Livy:  (shrieking, with a glint of cruel ardor in her eyes)  I LOVE BROBEE!!!!!



And, with friends and skillz like these can you blame her?  Sigh.  First runner-up is first loser, Mama.

(p.s. - Remember the time I lived with 2 girls in college who listened to this every damn day? 

I didn't until today, and now I'm confident that this song will be as stuck in my head as Angie Hart's haircut is stuck on it.)

Sunday, May 15, 2011

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

What's up, peeps, or should I say disciples?  It's my Jesus year, so bring me some water, and I will turn it into pink champagne, drink it, and then burp so loudly that your eardrums burst and you bleed from the ears.

I said nothing about being a benevolent deity.

Also I'm going to treat myself to this, a mug featuring this image,

because I am also a Goddamn liar.

Happy birthday to me!  May my 33rd be the best and holiest yet!

Friday, May 13, 2011

Getting Out Of Hand

I have a problem of extraordinarily geeky proportions.  As a multiple English major (nothing quite screams WINNER! like typing that phrase), I love books.  As an uncontrollably materialistic nerd, I like expressing this love through commerce.  But when I showed up at the gym last week wearing this

Available from Out of Print Clothing

and carrying this

What?  Doesn't everyone have a Walt Whitman water bottle?

I realized that I was starting to become a caricature of an overzealous former English teacher instead of just being an overzealous former English teacher.  This realization is only further proven by the existence in my dresser of this


and this


At some point when I wasn't looking, it stopped being clever and just got sad.  And so I promise to stop buying lit-related souvenirs, as soon as I finish my collection with this.

Papa's thirsty, and so is Mama.

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Mother's Day II: Red Dawn

O.K., people.  An admission before I begin smugly reporting my Mother's Day indulgences.

I dyed my hair red.  Bad red.  Shitty, fake-looking, clown red.  It made sense in theory, is awful in practice, and, should the appointment-making gods smile on me, will be gone by this time next week.  We will not speak of this again.  Dammit.

O.K.!  Mother's Day!

Slept in.  Family snuggles.  Breakfast.  Massage.  Wine.  Tacos.  Presents.  Mariner's game.  Sad toddler.  Happy toddler.  Home.  Wine.  Take out Chinese.  Wine.  Black Swan.  Wine.  Books.  Bed.

I was happy because I couldn't see myself.  She was quietly freaking out at the crowds, noise, and Mama's hair.


Liv hadn't mooshed abrasions into my face in a long time.  She did today.  Plus, she's strong now, and my neck still hurts from counterbalancing against the pressure of her desperate, burrowing snuggles.


So we plied her with french fries with lots of tipsip (catsup) and her first diet Pepsi...


... then took her to the playground, bought her a Mariners bear, and found her smile.  She spent the rest of the game screaming, clapping, dancing, and randomly spouting "YAY, MARNERRS!" and "ICHIWO!"


Ergo = (forced snuggles - face abrasions) = AWESOME!

Happy Mother's Day!  Love, Little Biscuit and Big Red

Sunday, May 01, 2011

But Bald Eagles Don't Wear Boots?


If Osama Bin Laden's body is actually recovered with a boot in its ass, I'm totally going to apologize to Toby Keith for all the times I called him a douchebag.  Pinky swear.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Hippity Hoppity Hippie

Today, in honor of a holiday I find creepier than Halloween, Livy and I joined our friends Sandy, Mike, Gavyn, Katie, Liam, and Ian at the Woodland Park Zoo for some egg huntin' fun.  It wasn't as fun as Buck Hunter, but it was a lot more fun than Rick Hunter, so I call it a success!  Plus how can you go wrong with a day filled with springtime sunshine, goofy toddlers, and good friends at a zoo picnic?

Because I couldn't be bothered to get Livy an Easter dress and instead delegated the responsibility to Bubby, who is an actual Catholic and former altar boy, she went to today's festivities as a hippie clown.  And because we live in Seattle, I spotted 3 other people in tie-dye as soon as we entered the zoo gates.  OF COURSE I DID.

I sure hope these plastic eggs are local and from organically fed cage free heirloom plastic chickens...

She had a good time finding eggs, but maybe it was because of the outfit, she had just as much fun putting them in other kids' baskets as she did in her own bag.

... to each according to his need, and you need another empty plastic egg!

But the best part of the day by far was eating and playing on the grass with her homeboys Gavyn and Liam.  Those three are like adorable and poorly coordinated peas in a pod.

Liam in hat, Gavyn with ball, and Livy.

So, until tomorrow when we hit the south end for a grandparental explosion and a froofy cupcake dress, happy Easter! 

Love SLB,

Easter posies, m'dear?

Livy,

Upside down sunglasses = Geordi La Forge!

And me, Bruce Wayne.

My secret is safe with you, yes?

Friday, April 22, 2011

A Year Ago Today

Someone had no pants on, and for once it wasn't me.

Friday, April 08, 2011

My Daughter Is A Genius

(And I wear a sweatshirt that says "Brooklyn" on it a lot).



Unfornately, her mother is an idiot.



The St. Patrick's Day shirt and her learning how to say "drinking!" is a lucky coincidence, I swear.

Thursday, April 07, 2011

A Venn Diagram In Which All Three Parts Feature My Image

1.  You know what's stupid?  Grating your thumb into a bloody nub while attempting to break down some Parmesan and constantly stir a pot of risotto at the same time.

2.  You know what's badass?  Not risking ruining the risotto by leaving the stove to go upstairs to get a Band-Aid and instead improvising a bandage using only a paper towel and a rubber band.

Thumb's up, MacGyver-style.

3.  What's stupid AND badass?  Dying of lockjaw because you're too chicken to have ever gotten a Tetanus shot and grated your thumb and made your own filthy kitchen bandage in order to ensure a perfect plate of risotto.

It was really delicious.

And that image in the Venn Diagram I mentioned earlier.  It's this one, obviously.