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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

2007-10-11 ... 10:36 a.m.


I just ate the hugest motherfucking apple. It was bigger than my head. I got Apple Fatigue only a third of the way through. I wanted to stop but I didn't want to throw it away, and you can't keep it because it gets all brown and horrible. So I just kept chomping and chomping and now I don't want to eat anything else for the rest of my life. I should have invited some starving Third World children to hang out on the other side of my apple and chomp along with me, I am sure it could have fed us all.

Actually, I really should have eaten right through to the inside, removed the core, chomped out a seat-shape, and added some tires and an electric scooter motor. Then I could have tooled around town in our eco-conscious second vehicle, the apple car. Just like Lowly Worm. Was anyone else mildly disturbed by his S&M-flavored name? Or by the fact that he had no family?


Whenever I tell Nora "no" about something---usually involving putting a stop to some crazy project involving craft materials or power tools---she has a protest, a counter-suggestion, an explanation. She is not a whiner or a tantrummer but she is definitely an explainer and a negotiator. She likes to strap on her scuba tank and dive deep into the depths of "why not?" This is crazy-making because quite often I am not in the mood to explain why not. So we all end up beached on the rocky shore of "because I said so," and while I am not averse to asserting my authority (oh believe me, I am not), I do empathize with how unsatisfying this is for my tiny Inquisitioner.

Sometimes she will actually try to get around the "because I said so" with the dramatic declaration, "You're not UNDERSTANDING me!" At first I just (inwardly) smirked at her and thought that we seem to have arrived at the "slam door, blast angsty teen music" stage of parent-child interaction rather early. But today I am kind of cloudy-day introspective and I am thinking that her faith in language and communication is actually kind of touching. In her mind, if she could just explain it properly I would want what she wants and there would be no conflict. I think I am probably being overly literary about this little Nora anecdote, and should have played it for gentle mocking laughter like I usually do, but I am sleepy and emotional so this is what you get. Plus we are coming up on the four-year anniversary of Nora's adoption, and every time I look at her I cannot believe that she is so smart and funny and awesome and ours. Even when I'm not UNDERSTANDING her.

If we do have an incident involving lack of Nora-comprehension on my part, at the end of the day Nora will usually say, "Mommy, remember when we had some trouble? Because you didn't UNDERSTAND me? I think we should read TWO stories tonight, and we should read them snuggled." (This means with her on my lap instead of our usual side-by-side reading routine.) Now this is very sweet, but notice how I am still to blame for the misunderstanding? How it is not that Nora was being insane or authority-defying, but that I am a witless noob who obviously cannot think on her level? Yeah. Ultimately it is better to be snuggled than to be right, so I have not ever pointed this out. MATERNAL FUCKING SACRIFICE, Y'ALL.


Although I have witnessed many over-the-top gross-outs on the El, the girl who did nothing more outrageous than apply her makeup has won some sort of Yuck Prize. In-public grooming is irksome in general, but it is usually not nauseating. That is, unless you are the sweet young thing who got out some sort of foundation compact and then, apparently deciding that the product would have better coverage in moistened form, spat on the makeup sponge before dipping in. And wiping it on her face. Seriously. She made minor efforts to be discreet but there was no mistaking the fact that she was sitting on the train in public smearing a mixture of "flesh"-colored petroleum products and saliva on her skin. Sometimes I wish there were a Hygiene Police who would come whack people with sticks, sort of like those nutjobs who go around trying to catch people eating during Ramadan.

---mimi smartypants backs up her words with fists and attitude.


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