Monthly Archives: May 2007

Linky Bits

Interwebby snacks I have recently come across:

1. Damn, I love Carolyn Hax.

2. God DAMN, I love Mercer Mayer.

3. I think I’m type 7 with a little type 1 thrown in there.

4. This is the kind of story that makes me scared to have a daughter. Also angry as hell.

5. The “blog” of “unneccesary” quotation marks.

6. Along the same lines, passive-aggressive notes from roommates, neighbors, coworkers and strangers.

Mr. Squab, the Hatchling and I will be out of town for a few days visiting my grandma in south Georgia, who has not yet met the Hatchling. If there’s a decent connection, I’ll try to post some southern-fried goodness, but I’m guessing the bloggage will be light until later next week. Have a good memorial day weekend!!

A Whole New World

So I mentioned that I have a “nanny” this week, meaning that for the first time I’m spending entire days away from the Hatchling. But did I also mention that we’re having our roof re-shingled this week? Cos we are. It was loooooong overdue – we knew when we bought the place a year ago that it would need re-roofing PDQ – but the coincidence of the roofing happening at the same time as the mamala being away had made me somewhat fearful about the Hatchling’s naps this week. I mean, not only would she be put down and got up by a completely different (if beloved) person, but also: the POUNDING. And the walking on the roof. And the pneumatic nail gun. And did I mention the POUNDING? The fact that when I asked the contractor what the loudest part would be he looked at me like I was speaking Esperanto and said “it’s all loud, ma’am; maybe you should have the baby sleep downstairs” did nothing to restore my confidence.

I had nothing to worry about, of course. The Hatchling, who in the past has been known to wake up if I sneeze two floors down and three rooms over from her*, has slept like … well, like a baby! through all of the roofing madness. Thumps and bangs that make me jump – and I’m awake, mind you – she has snoozed through with great aplomb. Not only that, but the other night we misplaced the phone handset and hit the pager button twice and called it from our mobile phones three times before realizing that it had been left in the nursery. The pager beeping is LOUD, peeps, and we have the ringer set fairly high. But the baby, she no hear nothing. It’s pretty awesome, I tell you what. Sniff. Our little light sleeper is growing up!

*Admittedly, my sneezes are legendarily loud. But still.

What I Like

… is baristas who call me “love.” As in, “what can I get for you today, love?” or “Oh, sorry, love, I don’t think we have any more of that muffin.”

Just makes the process feel a little more human.

Whoa. Is THIS how it happens?

So I’m sitting here in Dunn Bros. coffee shop writing because my TOTALLY AWESOME SISTER is being my nanny for the week so I can finish. My goddamn. Dissertation. But that’s not what I’m here to tell you. What I’m here to tell you is: a young woman just walked in to the coffee shop with a wee little baby, maybe one month old, and HOLY CRAP I THOUGHT ABOUT HOW NICE IT WOULD BE TO HAVE ANOTHER ONE THAT SMALL.

Dudes. This is so not cool. The Hatchling is only 13 months old. We do not want to have another one for another couple of years, for real. Up until this point even the thought of having another one sent me into a blind panic. Is this some weird kind of hormonal surge? Have I been smoking crack in my sleep again? Somebody make it stop!

Thor’s Day linkage

I’m still recovering from my stupid cold, so I’m short on bloggy love. But here are some good links, some fresh, some of which I’ve had in my “to blog” folder for waaaaay too long. Enjoy!

1. Moxie’s Manifesto – a good summation of why I love her site so damn much.

2. Pearl’s outtakes – if you liked the Will Ferrell short, you’ll also enjoy these outtakes, which make it clear just how much editing it took to make the original video.

3. Sweet Juniper’s Mythological Alphabet – damn, this is teh kewl. Urban meets classical on the interwebs.

4. Disney’s roving animatronic muppets – you have to watch the video on this one. It’s amazing. I’m not the hugest fan of Disney, but they sure nailed Dr. Bunsen Honeydew and Beaker.

5. IkeaHacker – a cool little site dedicated to showcasing the amazing, weird, and amazingly weird things people create out of humble Ikea products.

There oughta be a law

You know how there’s Murphy’s law? And the Peter Principle? Well, I think we need a new axiomatic phrase for the following commonly observed phenomenon:

1. Baby gets pathetically, feverishly, no-appetite-nosleeping sick;

2. Parent spends much extra psychic, mental and emotional energy caring for said baby, thus compromising his or her own immune system to the point of vulnerability;

3. Baby recovers from sickness and is rarin’ to go! out! and! play!

4. Parent gets pathetically, feverishly, no-appetite-nosleeping sick.
4a. but still has to take care of the rarin-to-go baby.
4b. and would therefore willingly barter her soul, body, and any
life insurance benefits for a fricking nanny.
4c. and/or her mommy.

What should we call it? I’d think of something clever only I feel a baaaaaaad cold coming on.

Mother’s Day

Yeah, so I’m a little late posting these felicitations. What can I say? My own daughter decided to show her appreciation for my mothering skills by getting the sniffles and then a fever which rendered her woebegone and snuggly in the extreme.

But I digress. It’s Mother’s Day, and while lord knows one day isn’t near enough, let us nonetheless take a moment to send a little shout out to all the moms we hold near and dear. WOOT.

Here is a most excellent mama poem by one Lucille Clifton:

admonitions

boys
i don’t promise you nothing
but this
what you pawn
i will redeem
what you steal
i will conceal
my private silence to
your public guilt
is all i got

girls
first time a white man
opens his fly
like a good thing
we’ll just laugh
laugh real loud my
black women

children
when they ask you
why is your mama so funny
say
she is a poet
she don’t have no sense

And, for you visual learners, did you know that CafePress has almost 15,000 mama-related designs? Ye gods! There are several good ones, but my favorite would have to be this, which I think I need to get in onesie form (for the kid, for the kid):

(x-posted at my other nest)

The Drama Builds

We are having a serious case of the crankies at our house today. Possibly related to our decision to wake up at the bright hour of 5:00 am. And by “our” I sure as hell don’t mean “me.” On the principle that at least my readers can have a chuckle, even if I am currently not allowed one, here’s a funny bit, courtesy my friend Mark.

Pretty!

I’m a sucker for apps like this: type in your URL and see your site as a pretty graph. Here’s Snarky Squab:

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

(as seen at Mahtab’s place)

Milestones?

I’m not what you would call a hugely competitive person; I don’t like being the last person chosen for the team, but I don’t have to be the first person, either. Somewhere in the upper 25% is usually OK with me.

So it’s been a bit of a surprise to me how crochety I can get when I feel like the Hatchling isn’t hitting her milestones when she’s “supposed” to. It’s sooooooooo dumb, right? I mean, a) the range of when you’re “supposed” to hit milestones is so wide as to be near meaningless, and b) you only have to be in the Hatchling’s presence for about a nanosecond to know that she’s completely fine, developmentally speaking. But it doesn’t matter. I just take one look at a BabyCenter.com chart on 12-month old skills and I’m off into paranoid-mommyland. 12-month-olds are supposed to have two or three words?!?! Crap! The Hatchling talks all the time, but is any of that words? Sometimes she says mama or dada, but it rarely seems to be directed at me or Mr. Squab … She’s started saying “hi” in a way that occasionally makes sense – does that count? WHO CARES? God knows I shouldn’t, but I occasionally have to get someone else to talk me down and remind me that in ten years I’ll have a happy 11-year-old daughter with a full head of hair, a full vocabulary, and actual underpants. Oy.

Having said all that, I must report that we hit a definite, for-real milestone this weekend: the Hatchline took her first official unassisted steps. Like six of them, from her aunt to her daddy. Of course, she’s resolutely declined to repeat the episode since then, but we all witnessed it: she can do it if she wants to. Suck on THAT, BabyCenter.com.