|
|
||
|
the latest
waddle: good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03 elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01 building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19 ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09 my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04
|
PROTEIN POWER My daughter eats like a high school wrestler. With kindergarten has come the dubious joy of packing a lunch every night, and of course Nora will not eat a sandwich---yuck! Bread! Who eats that stuff? A favorite option is pile of deli turkey, bag of baby carrots, two squares of dark chocolate. Once I accidentally bought these disgusting low-carb tortillas and Nora was all like "mmm, these are good," so I used them to wrap up plain (NO CONDIMENTS!) turkey or tuna for her lunch. Sometimes in the morning she will ask for a fried egg. ("Use lots of butter in the pan, mommy. The COW butter. Don't use the spray.") But if I suggest toast she looks at me like I am wearing potato-powered pants. An egg without toast? Okay, crazy South Beach child. MORE HIPPIE SNARK I was lurking around on mothering.com during a somewhat slack work-at-home day, bored and looking for more snark. Man, what an easy target, it is almost not sporting. I read an awesome thread from a woman who was co-sleeping with several children under three, and posted about how she lies awake every dawn desperately needing to pee but not daring to wake the babies. Because everyone knows that "attachment parenting" means "the female parent gets a bladder infection for her troubles." Some respondents had sympathy and similar stories, some were sensible and said "just go pee, for crying out loud," and there was one who suggested wearing Depends. Really. I would love to think that it was a particularly witty troll, but the adult-diapers idea was from a very established poster and was sandwiched in between lots of hippie crap and personal anecdotes. I just don't think any troll could stand mothering.com long enough to infiltrate so deeply. I can barely stand visiting long enough to scoop up the hippie hilarity. Although it would almost be worth it to join, just so I could answer every single thread titled "Am I overreacting?" (there is at least one of these an hour) with the one-word post, "Probably." And sometimes you find really kick-ass typos, like the thread titled with a sad face and "I am balling my eyes out." Who knew you could ball so much that your eyes fall out? Christ almighty woman, take it easy with the balling! That one is destined to end up in a peer-reviewed medical journal: "Spontaneous Bilateral Enucleation Resulting From Vigorous Penile-Vaginal Intercourse." I used to be able to pile on loads of cheap-ass cosmetics (Wet n' Wild black eyeliner, etc). I used to smoke, never take vitamins, and get three hours of sleep a night. I used to go days with barely washing my face, and then just sort of scrub it with regular old bath soap when I finally needed a break from the goth. And despite it all, my skin looked great. Now all of a sudden, when I am more grown-up and responsible and actually have cash to drop on skin care items, just about anything I use besides plain water or the most benign of all inoffensive lotions makes me red and itchy. I don't really wear makeup much anymore but one still has to wash and moisturize one's face sometimes, right? But with what? I need a product called "Almost Nothing." I need whatever is as mild as Fred Rogers and as soft as a newborn kitten's vagina. I am tempted to march into the cosmetics department at Nordstrom's and inquire if anything fits that bill. FAVORITE COMMERCIAL UPDATE I got to see this ad again (scroll down). It seems to run quite often on the Discovery channel, and one of these days I have to figure out how to get it off the TiVo and onto my laptop so I can watch it over and over again. A few things I missed on the first several go-arounds: 1. The rapist is posing as a jogger, and he rolls down the ski mask and kicks in the door mere SECONDS after Husband drives off, on his way to his Important Job. 2. Wifey waves goodbye to husband, and alarms the door immediately after stepping back inside. This strikes me as rather paranoid for the lovely white-bread suburb shown on the ad. The only time we have our security system fully alarmed like that is when we're sleeping or not home. Then again, the scene wouldn't work any other way, as the alarm needs to go off when rapist kicks in the door, and sexy all-American square-jawed Brinks Guy can come to the rescue. 3. Then there is some blah blah about free installation and such, and at one point during that voiceover it cuts to a picture of husband and wife huddled together on the front stoop, giving a statement to a uniformed police officer. Now I am sure that having a ski-mask scary person kick in your door was not tons of fun, but did husband really need to race to her side? Since nothing happened, thanks to their wonderful home security system? Maybe he hadn't gotten far, or was looking for an excuse to take a personal day, but I really don't see why he needs to come home from work because she did not get raped. GAVE PROOF THROUGH THE NIGHT Is extreme patriotism a normal five-year-old developmental stage? I am getting rather tired of Nora's constant humming of "The Star-Spangled Banner," not least because she never seems to make it to the bridge and just drones the first part over and over. She also inserts an American flag into almost every drawing lately, resulting in a lot of very confusing pastiche art where Pikachu or Han Solo is holding the red, white, and blue. Speaking of kid-drawings, I truly love that she is starting to label things more and more, because drawings with labels make me happy. And the creative spelling makes me happy too, so when I see Halloween pictures with a ZOMBEE SQUIRL eating a KOKONUT, and then there's a big old American flag for no reason among all the undead-rodent tropical-fruit-chomping action, I am just about delirious with joy. If I remember I will try and scan some of these for posterity. ---mimi smartypants, love her or leave her. back/forward |
