I’m just saying …

Look: I don’t know who dropped the ball on this one, but can we all agree that there should be a rule that if you’re pregnant – or at least more than, say, 5 months pregnant – you DO NOT get sick? That seems like a no brainer, right? Yeah. Tell that to the stomach bug that’s been going around and that got our entire family over the last three days. Fortunately it was fairly short-lived, but MAN. I have not slept so many hours in a row without being drugged in I can’t remember when. That makes the second crappy virus I’ve had in the third trimester. Can we just call it quits with the contagious diseases for the next couple of months?

Shake it

Mr. Squab’s mom was in town briefly this week, and the Hatchling always likes to provide guests with the latest in toddler entertainment. Here’s a little sample of the show she put on. Yeah, the lighting is crappy, but you CANNOT DENY THE MOVES.

Dancing Ellie, February 2009 from Elise Robinson on Vimeo.

Gah. Busy.

Relatives in town.
Prepping for Kid 2.0.
(One month left. ACK.)
Trying to catch up on teaching stuff.
Would prefer to be sleeping, eating or peeing most of the time.

NO TIME FOR BLOGGING.

I will post a cute video tomorrow, I promise.

In the meantime, is it just me, or does “the Island of Sodor” sound a lot like it should be a locale in the evil part of Middle Earth? I mean, “Sodor” is kind of a creepy name, right?

OK. I’m going to take a shower, pee, and go to bed. May your evening be equally satisfying.

Happy Valentine’s Day

I know it’s all chic and cool to hate on Valentine’s day, but fuck it: any holiday that includes nice flowers and the consumption of good chocolate is A-OK with me, fabricated or not. However, just because I like V-day doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of humor about it:

Don’t be a whore, kids! Enjoy that chocolate! (Thanks to Sally for the image.)

Just another literary evening in the Squab household

Should I be concerned that my almost-three-year-old chooses more heavyweight reading material than I do?

The Natural

Today we had our regular Wednesday playgroup with a group of moms and kids that we enjoy hanging out with. This week, for whatever reason, the Hatchling was the only girl for the first half of the group – it was just her and four other little boys. At this age, the whole gender thing doesn’t make much of a difference when they’re playing (thank goodness) but today all the little boys seemed to have spring fever or something and there was a lot of bickering and fighting going on. When we went into the dining room for snack time, there was only enough room at the little kid’s table for three; the three oldest boys took those seats, the baby sat with his mother, and the Hatchling chose to sit at the big table with the Mamas. It wasn’t long before a major quarrel erupted at the kids’ table (someone’s plate was touching someone else’s, if you can believe it) and the recriminations started to get a little deafening. The relevant moms wearily moved to intervene, but before any of them could reach the table, the Hatchling got down from her chair, went over to the boys and in a loud, authoritative voice said “HEY! Hey, guys! What’s goin’ on?” She put her hand on the back of one of the boys and started to babble something that we couldn’t totally understand, but was clearly intended to mediate between the squabblers. (It sounded kind of like “ashabba boogaba dashalso FOOD baggabagaa YOU PLAY.”) The boys sort of stopped, and the Hatchling calmly returned to her seat and resumed snacking. We parental units were having a fit of the giggles. She did it again when another fight broke out, and then sat back down at the table with a distinctly smug look on her face. I have never seen her do anything like that before, but I tell you what, she handled it like a pro. Her future sister is screwed.

Random Tidbits

1. How much did you love Obama’s press conference tonight? Mr. Squab turned to me and said, “It’s weird having a president who … like … actually knows what he’s talking about and answers the questions that are asked, with no creepy chuckles or smirks.” Indeed. Me likey.

2. Why, Birmingham, WHY????

3. How psyched am I that I can finally sync my Google contacts and calendar on my iPhone? Way too psyched.

4. The Hatchling’s two new favorite phrases: “Oh, MAN!” and “Oh my god!” It’s like having a pint-sized teenager in the house, except for the diapers and the spontaneous displays of affection.

Have some tissues ready

In case you haven’t already seen it.

“Fidelity”: Don’t Divorce… from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

“A” is for Answers meme

Because, like Christopher says, hell if I’m going to do this and not re-purpose it for blog-fodder!

Rules: It’s harder than it looks! Copy to your own note, erase my answers, enter yours, and tag 10 people. Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real. . .nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can’t use your name for the boy/girl name question.

Have Fun!!

1. What is your name: Elise
2. A four Letter Word: Uh … eff-off? exit?
3. A boy’s Name: Ethelred
4. A girl’s Name: Esther
5. An occupation: Elevator operator
7. Something you wear: elbow patches
8. A food: eclairs … emmenthaler … eggs … mmmmmm
9. Something found in the bathroom: epsom salts
10. A place: entryway; England
11. A reason for being: esprit; elan; ephemera
12. Something you shout: Egads! (no, really; I shout that sometimes)
13. A movie title: Ever After
14. Something you drink: Evian; egg creme; Everclear (shudder)
15. A musical group: Eurythmics
16. An animal: Elephant
17. A street name: Emerson
18. A type of car: Edsel. Sadly.
19. A song title: Every Breath You Take
20. A verb: evince

Consider yourself tagged.

Well, it *is* one of his favorite topics …

Yesterday the Hatchling was playing “phone” with the TV remote up to one ear and the telephone up to the other ear. The conversation was … interesting:

Hatchling: Oh, hi, Daddy! Yeah, yeah, ok-ok-ok. Vewwy good, vewwy good. Oh, I fine, I fiiiiiiiine, how YOU? Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, Daddy. Oh? Oh, no. Ohhhhh, nooooo, pooooop. Dat’s gwoss, Daddy. Oh, yucky poops. Vewwy yucky poops, Daddy.

Me: Are you talking to Daddy about your poop?!?

Hatchling: Dat’s right, Mama! Vewwy good!

So, to sum up: potty training? No way, no how. Extended one-way imaginary conversations about excrement? Absolutely.