The Incredible Weirdness of Being...

Guess what???

2010-10-21T19:45:00.000-07:00

This little boy?...

He turned 1 today.

Happy Birthday, beautiful boy. I love you!

A Full Invasion

2010-09-28T19:42:00.000-07:00

Sylvia Plath - Mushrooms

Overnight, very

Whitely, discreetly,

Very quietly

Our toes, our noses

Take hold on the loam,

Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,

Stops us, betrays us;

The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on

Heaving the needles,

The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.

Our hammers, our rams,

Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,

Widen the crannies,

Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,

On crumbs of shadow,

Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.

So many of us!

We are shelves, we are

Tables, we are meek,

We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers

In spite of ourselves.

Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning

Inherit the earth.

Our foot's in the door.

Even the trees can't escape.

I just noticed 2 mushrooms in this photo. I was only aiming to photograph one.

I call this the ballerina mushroom on account of its tutu.

But, the top view is pretty prosaic.

Remember the penis mushroom? This is what it becomes AFTER it lives a few days as a phallus.

And then this.

And, after that, this.

Apparently the penis mushroom is called a shaggy mane, and it is one of the inky caps. It's edible, folks. 8-/

These wee golden fellows were huddled together under some pine mulch.

A few more photographs from today:

A Manitoba autumn day. (The little building is our sauna)

Sun through Oak.

Sun through Elm.

If I don't blog for awhile, it just means I have sun in my hair and leaves in my shoes.

Or...the mushrooms got me.

Oh, how I love this:

2010-09-27T20:19:00.000-07:00

It won't change your life, but it will make your day a little more magical. I can almost guarantee it.

(I want an air piano now.)

Mushaboom...

2010-09-14T20:28:00.000-07:00

We have been invaded. Seriously.

What kind of mushroom is this??

Say it with me: O-M-G!!!! (blech!)

Apparently autumn = mushroom season out here in the wilds of Manitoba. Or...well...at least in the wilds of my yard. Everywhere I look, I discover a new mushroom. They unsettle me, the way they show up overnight...poking their silent, creepy selves up out of the ground to be stepped on unwittingly, or touched accidentally.

Have you ever lifted a damp board, or a rock, say...only to discover several surprised insects skittering away? Do you remember that strange revulsion that tingles up and down your spine and makes you want to dance a dance of convulsive horror? That is how I feel about mushrooms.

Especially that phallic one. What...you didn't notice?

(Yeah right.)

Flat little toadstools near the apple tree. Little umbrella under a pine. Phallus by the driveway (and it's still growing. It's an inch taller since yesterday.) Nasty brain-like thing near my flower bed.

*shiver*

Help?

In other news, this is happening at a rapid pace:

Well, summer...it was good while it lasted, right?

The Best Thing I Have Read in Awhile:

2010-09-11T13:52:00.000-07:00

God Angrily Clarifies 'Don't Kill' Rule

Amen.

Do Fun Stuff!!

2010-08-30T10:49:00.000-07:00

Ryan, form Pacing the Panic Room worked his butt off to get this album together in honor of his son LB. LB has SMS.

All proceeds from the sale of this album go to PRISMS to establish a SMS Research Fellowship that funds a graduate student to study SMS and support the SMS community.

Awesome, right??

This album is adorable, and will be enjoyed by kids and parents alike. Go ahead...have a listen. Try not to dance to Potty Time. I dare you...lol. If you like it, and have the funds...buy it. It's for a great cause.

Sorry, your browser does not support iframes.

Wild Wednesday: Dumbo

2010-08-25T11:12:00.000-07:00

This is Dumbo.

From marinebio.org (an absolutely fascinating site):

Description & Behavior

Finned deep-sea octopuses, of the genus Grimpoteuthis (Robson 1932), consist of at least 20 known species and are poorly known. All octopuses in the genus Grimpoteuthis are nicknamed "dumbo octopuses," due to the ear-like fins that protrude from the sides of their mantles just above their eyes which resemble the elephant ears of the Disney character Dumbo.

Grimpoteuthis octopuses are part of the Cirrina suborder. Cirrates differ from other octopuses by generally having abandoned jet propulsion, relying on their fins as their primary mode of locomotion. Their two large fins are supported by an internal shell. Their arms are webbed, often with the webs reaching to the tips of the arms. Suckers are present in a single row along the length of the arm, as well as cirri (fleshy papillae or nipple-like structures along the bottom edges of the arms, see the cephalopod glossary for more details), generally two per sucker. Ink sacs and anal flaps are generally absent. Ink sacs are organs composed of a gland that secretes ink, a sac that stores ink and a duct that connects it to the rectum. The ink sac generally appears black from the outside although it may be covered by silvery tissue in some species.

Grimpoteuthis are in the family Opisthoteuthidae (umbrella octopuses) and have short, squat, semi-gelatinous bodies with an internal U or V-shaped cartilaginous shell. They lack the secondary web (the web which extends from each arm to the primary web) and longer cirri found in the family Cirroteuthidae and the eyes are much more developed. They can grow up to about 20 cm in length. Species in the Opisthoteuthidae family have suckers without tooth-like structures. The radula (chitinous, ribbon-like band in the mouth of cephalopods that contains up to seven transverse rows of teeth that aid in transport of food into the esophagus) in Opisthoteuthidae tend to be reduced or completely absent, as most species swallow their prey whole.

Grimpoteuthis are benthic creatures, living basically at the bottom of the ocean at depths of around 3,000-4,000 m (the average ocean depth is 3,790 m). Some species alternate between sitting on the ocean floor and swimming above it ( benthopelagic). Others are known to be completely pelagic.

Four modes of active locomotion have been observed in dumbo octopuses: crawling, take-off, fin swimming and pumping and one passive mode called umbrella-style drifting. Fin swimming is the mode of locomotion that is most often observed, wherein they use their fins to drift through the water. Grimpoteuthis is known to be neutrally buoyant, which allows the animal to drift passively with its fins expanded. The take-off mode is a sudden, single contraction of the brachial crown (the arms and tentacles surrounding the mouth) and surrounding web. Pumping is a slow mode of locomotion which involves peristaltic waves, which are symmetrical contractions of muscles, in the primary and intermediary webs.

World Range & Habitat

Species of this family are believed to exist on the deep ocean floor in all oceans of the world. Specific species have been found in the waters surrounding New Zealand, Australia, Monterey Bay, Oregon, Phillipines, Martha's Vineyard, Papua, New Guinea and the Azores.

» GBIF occurrence data in Google Earth [Tips] | Ocean Biogeographic Information System (OBIS) (World Distribution) [about]

Feeding Behavior (Ecology)

Little is known about the behavior and habits of Grimpoteuthis. They feed on worms, bivalves, copepods and crustaceans.

Each sucker has a pair of cirri, which are thought to have some role in feeding, perhaps by creating currents of water that help bring food closer to the central beak.

Life History

Little is known about Grimpoteuthis reproduction. The male reproductive tract shows considerable variation between species, and thus there is significant confusion in the identification of certain parts.

In the family Opisthoteuthidae, of which the Grimpoteuthis is a part of, a hectocotylus is absent, but some species exhibit other forms of sexual modification; enlarged suckers being the most common modification. The spermatophores of octopuses in this family have lost their ejaculatory apparatus and form sperm packets with an operculum. The sperm packets are transferred to the female's mantle cavity. The eggs of this family are very large, and covered with a tough casing which is secreted by the oviducal gland and hardens in seawater. Eggs are individually laid directly on the ocean floor, on the undersides of rocks or shells. The ovaries of these octopuses contain eggs at different stages, implying that they breed continually instead of having a distinct breeding season.

And, after all of that technical mumbo-jumbo...just watch this:

Dumbo is sure to steal your heart. :)

On a beautiful, hot day...

2010-08-23T21:00:00.000-07:00

my baby brother got hitched:

Best of luck (and oodles of love) to him and his absolutely adorable new wife.

Dearest Bugaboo:

2010-08-20T19:56:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow you will be 10 months old!

I know, right? This means that I have somehow managed to keep you alive for 10. Whole. Months.

And, trust me, little buddy? It hasn't always been easy, this keeping you alive thing. You hate to eat and fight me me tooth and claw if I have a bottle/bowl/spoon in hand. You flail your hands, purse your lips, scream, fake gag and slap any/all food items out of my grasp:

Thankfully this has gotten better since you learned how to feed yourself:

Not many things are cuter than watching you try to put food in your mouth, and I love, love, LOVE seeing the pride in your eyes when you succeed.

The most amazing thing about you right now is your inquisitive personality. "Wassat?", you whisper a zillion times a day as you point. It could be a doorknob, it could be my nose, it could be a tiny fleck on the carpet, but it's amazing and new to you. My days are spent telling you about your world. Doorknob. Nose. Dirt. Eye. Nose. Cat. Nose.

You do circuits throughout the kitchen and living room, touching and feeling. The slightly serrated edging on the stove. The wooden cabinet. You taste the glass on the coffee table and bang on doors. Your little fingers are always busy discovering, and when you find a sound/texture you like, you turn to me and grin...wiggle your fingers against your new discovery and clap your hands.

You can say Mama (Mamaaa), Grandma (Ama), Grandpa (Umpa), Bones (Bow), All Done (Aaaah daaaa), Down (Dow) Cat (Gat!) and Hi (Hiiiiiii) and are working on Hello and Wow. You do the sign for All Done (although you have not yet figured out how to rotate your wrists, so you simply look like you are surrendering) after every single bite of food, and have only signed Eat once. You wave like the queen and clap like a maniac if anyone says "YAY!!!!" or "WOO-HOO!!!!!" (to everyone's amusement. You can bet your adorable little tushie that we have fun with this one often!) and, if asked whether Grandpa is on the phone, you immediately hunt for one of your many "phone" toys. If there is not one nearby, any toy will do. Yesterday, you placed your firefly rattle against your ear and said "Hiiiiiii, Umpa!", followed by much baby rambling.

You never stop moving, so most of your pictures look like this:

But you are, hands down, the dearest thing (and thank you for letting me capture at least SOME "still" shots)

I don't remember what my life was like without you in it, and I don't want to. I imagine it was pretty dull, because between your tantrums, grievances and attacks of love, I have my hands full.

And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Happy (almost) 10 months, muffinlump. I love you.

Moments old and already cheeky.

At 7 months. Still cheeky.

Some things never change.

For Tracey...

2010-08-14T18:41:00.000-07:00

...because she didn't get it. *grin*

Alanis actually made this song pretty...and managed to highlight the idiotic lyrics while she was at it...LOL.

Enjoy. Or not. ;)

Alanis Morissette - My Humps

2010-08-12T20:33:00.000-07:00

Whenever I am feeling a bit blue, I search out this video and watch it several times. It never fails to get me giggling...

I'm blue, so:

A little bit of fun...

2010-08-03T22:54:00.000-07:00

I have seen this done in a few places, and it has always made me laugh.

You know the word verification thang you have to type out in order to leave a comment? If you want to (and I am not forcing you, here...*grin*) leave me a comment letting me know what your "word" was, and then make up a definition for it. Funfunfun...and a great little wakeup for the brain.

Here, I will start with one I got on Tracey's blog:

Pileati: [pyl-ah-tee]

Noun:

1) The unfortunate pile-up (see Twister) in which some people find themselves in while attempting to do pilates in a group setting.
2) An accumulation of sweaty, limber people.
3) A brief, dynamic event consisting of the collision of 2 or more unsuspecting individuals during strenuous exercise, resulting in an abrupt breach of personal space.

Adj:

Pileative [pyl-ee-ah-tiv]:

1) "I have gotten myself into quite the pileative mess, haven't I?" exclaimed Tiffany as she extricated herself from the group of sweaty women.

;)

Your turn?

(Please? It's fun...I promise!)

What have we been doing, you ask?

2010-07-28T15:33:00.000-07:00

Well, I am sure you haven't really been asking yourself such a thing at all because you have dar more interesting things to think about. *grin*

Nonetheless, this is what life looks like around here.

We play in the grass...with flowers and puppies (and the occasional skeeter):

Yes, that is a skeeter on his head. :(

We play in the pool:

(Those are totally my feet, yes...lovely. Be thankful I didn't show you my thighs...)

We experiment with new hairstyles:

And we have been busy growing crazy amounts of teeth:

I hope you are having as beautiful a summer as we are. :)

Proof...

2010-07-20T21:39:00.000-07:00

that even the silver lining has a shadow:

And, you know what? That's ok.

The glass is only half empty because I very much enjoyed half of my beverage and am happily contemplating drinking the other half. Santa Claus isn't real...I got gifts because my parents love me. Watermelon seeds will NOT grow in my tummy, but a baby did.

So, go ahead, silver lining. Be all shadowy and stuff, because even if I was incapable of making lemonade out of lemons, I could still go to the grocery store and buy it in concentrate form.

Just sayin'. ;)

Feely Bugs and Odin the Owl

2010-07-20T08:27:00.000-07:00

Jude LOVES books. Big books, little books, board books, fragile books, colorful books, black and white books, cloth books and paper books.

But, he has a very favorite book. He enjoys thumbing through it himself...loves to touch and feel and taste. And, let me tell you...this book has it all! (Except, of course, it really isn't meant to be tasted...*grin*)

Feely Bugs, by David. A. Carter, is part of a rather large series of "bug" books. Some of the other titles include Bugs In Space, How Many Bugs In a Box?, Bedtime Bugs and Snow Bugs. They are whimsical, colorful, cheerful little books that are sure to engage your child no matter their age. Heck, I never get tired of reading Feely Bugs...and we read it a lot!

Puffy Bugs!

Lacey Bugs!

Fluffy Bugs!

We have stacks of books, and this is the one he chooses. Every. Time.

Don't get me wrong...he loves to listen to other stories. Especially if he can clutch Feely Bugs while he listens. This book has been through it all. Diaper changes, car rides and trips to the store. It has been sat on, dragged, chewed and drooled on. The binding is held together with tape and there are tooth marks on the cover and several of the pages, but those things are simply indications of a well-loved book. ;)

Reading tip: Let your child explore the book in his or her own way as often as possible. Books are meant to be loved, devoured and dog-eared.

Now, I am sure you noticed the cute little owl button near the top, right? Why is he there?

Sarah, from Becoming Sarah is hosting an awesome book giveaway in honor of her daughter's first birthday, and for the sake of pediatric literacy. 8 books, people. 8 very adorable books. To enter, you simply have to disclose your favorite children's book character(s). Easy peasy, no? So, get on over there and comment. You can enter once a day for the duration of the contest, which will end when there are 300 comments, or 10 days have elapsed.

Good luck, and happy reading.

Because they made me smile:

2010-07-11T20:47:00.000-07:00

Could they be any cuter?

Black Tutu For Tanner

2010-07-07T19:59:00.000-07:00

I am coming out of my (very long) blogging hiatus because this?

http://thebhj.com/journal/2010/7/5/the-black-hockey-jesus-blogher-5ks-for-tanner.html

This speaks to me.

BHJ, one of the most brilliant (sarcastic, beautiful-jaded) bloggers I have yet to encounter, will be putting on his running shoes, donning a black hockey tutu and running as many successive 5k marathons as his body will allow to help raise awareness for Muscular Dystrophy in honor of this little boy:

That little guy up there? His name is Tanner, and he is 8 years old. He has Duchenne's Muscular Dystrophy, a disease that causes his muscles to deteriorate. It's fatal.

Tanner's aunt, Catherine of Her Bad Mother, and many of the bloggers attending BlogHer will be running in tutus for Tanner. BHJ is taking a slightly more manly approach, in the hopes that Tanner will appreciate a little bit of testosterone thrown into the mix.

I would like to think that if my son was in the position Tanner is in right now, there would be people willing to help him, and others like him, out. So, I made a donation, and will be adding BHJ's widget here and to my sidebar in case you would like to do the same.

Thanks. :)

Banana-Palooza 2010

2010-05-27T15:19:00.000-07:00

He didn't eat much, but it's a start. :)

I am still finding mashed nanner. EVERYWHERE. He even had some in his diaper.

And, just because it's cutecutecute (and oddly appropriate):

Hope you're well and smiling. :)

HUH???!!!

2010-05-14T10:56:00.000-07:00

You might be wondering if I've been abducted by aliens...or, perhaps you think I have joined nudist colony, or a cult, or...I dunno.

That little face up there? It says it ALL!

The truth of the matter is, I have been finding things a bit overwhelming of late. It happens to all of us, I imagine...and it's nothing I can't handle with a smile on my face, but still. Things are a bit crazy, and my blog is one of the casualties for now. *patting my blog on the head* *wondering if it is possible for a blog to have a head*

Jude is now mobile, and I spend my days chasing him around as he torments the cats, smacks the dog and gets himself into various sticky situations. He is not above trying to get under the couch, or into the cat's sleeping baskets. If he catches sight of the dog's rawhide, a dog toy or any kind of slipper/shoe/sock, he's SO THERE.

What you can't see here is that he is pulling Rory's fur. Look how calm Rory is about it.

I just can't quite get over what a big boy he is getting to be. We have graduated to size 3 diapers and 12 month outfits due to his length. All of his pants are too big around the waist, however, because this kid? He HATES to eat.

Call me crazy, but I was under the impression that babies live to eat. I was wrong. The fight begins the moment he even sees the bottle or bowl of food and doesn't end until one of us gives up. I end up spending my whole day hovering a bottle over his mouth (and trying to restrain him as he whacks at it and screams), in an effort to at LEAST make 20 ounces. I know it's all about the teeth that are taking their sweet time ramming through his tender little gums, but come on. There have been a few times that we have both ended up in tears. Mine fearful, his frustrated.

Thankfully he is getting better at this:

I had to break him of this habit, obviously...so I bought him a snuggly.

I'm hoping that in a few weeks, I will be able to update here a bit more often...and have more time to visit and comment on the blogs I love to read. But, in the meantime, I hope you are all well.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go prick my finger and feed the tulips.

FeeeeeeEEEEED ME, SEE-MOAH!

The Night Has Eyes...

2010-04-19T23:27:00.000-07:00

Tonight is one of those nights.

The windows, the doors, are threats to my sanity. I half expect to glance at a window and find a face peering in at me. I can almost hear pounding at the door...the click of a lock, or the splintering of wood.

Tonight, I am fighting the urge to duck as I pass panes of glass.

Tonight, I am triple checking all of the doors.

Suddenly, everything seems temporary, fleeting. This life, Jude's gummy smile. Spring will pass and summer will wilt into autumn and a first year will have passed. Winter will swallow us whole, and at the end of it, a little bit more of Jude's childhood will have been gobbled. Never to be seen again. There will be teeth and training pants. Soon, the widening of shoulders and the narrowing of hips...underarm hair and attitude. The unmistakable musk of approaching adulthood.

It's going too fast.

Today, I received my revised health card. Below my name and number is Jude's name, and a brand spanking new number that is all his own. Below all of this is the donor card. I want to do the right thing, and will, as soon as I am able. But, for now...I can't even allow the possibility that his heart could ever beat in someone else's chest, or that his kidneys could someday help eliminate someone else's waste. His heart still beats against mine when I hold him tight. I still change his diapers.

And yet, day by day, his body gradually becomes less of an extension of mine and becomes more his own. He arches his back as I dress him. He turns in my arms to look where he wants to look. He imitates kisses and laughs at the dog.

He is willful; strong. Every day, he needs me just that little bit less.

We are being stalked by time. It plasters itself against the windows, mewls on the doorstep, glares at us from underneath the bushes.

For now, I'm not letting it in.

Randomness...

2010-04-18T10:26:00.000-07:00

1) I can't wait for the microwave...even if I have only set it for 30 seconds. I pace, I find things to do, but time seems to stop when the microwave is doin' its business. I get so antsy that I HAVE to stop it...3 seconds, or 1 second left on the timer. And then I don't clear it, which drives the other members of the household crazy.

Mom: WHY do you always leave leftover time on the microwave??!!
Me: Oh, it's this new "no patience" thing I'm going through...I can't stand to let the microwave run its course.
Mom: Yeah, but now we never know what time it is in the kitchen.

2) The morning-time rainbows that live in the living room love my son. The moment he is on the floor, a rainbow comes and finds him...shines in his eyes, or hangs out in his ear. He doesn't seem to mind.

Buddy? You have something on your face. No, no...right there.

3) Spring has definitely sprung. The maples/poplars/willows/birches are all budding, and there are strange fingers poking out of the flowerbeds already.

All of the above were actually taken on March 31st. Can you believe it?

4) I am lovin' on this song lately...yum.

"Why are you so scared
You stand there shaking in your pew
The icons are whispering to you
They're just old men
Like on the benches in the park
Except their balding spots are glistening with gold"

5) Jude can stand with the help of the coffee table. The beginning of the end...

6) I changed my template...again. I can't stand a white page. I tried to conform, I really did...but I am just not a conformist.

7) I don't know why I feel the need to do these posts in list form.

8) I mean, jeez...I used to be able to write a paragraph.

9) But, now it all has to broken down and numbered...methodically separated like Jude's rice and apples. Or oats and peas.

10) *sigh* I want my brain back.

5 Pet Peeves...

2010-04-14T22:00:00.000-07:00

because I am feeling peevish tonight, and it just can't be helped.

1) Kate Gosselin. Just her name ticks me off.

2) Improper use of quotation marks.

This particular irritation began a few years ago when I went to pick my cat Rory up from the vet. On his carrier was a little "Hello, My Name Is" sticker, and the sticker read:

"Rory".

Why the quotation marks? Rory is not just what we're calling him these days. It's his name. I mean...I know that in the cat world his name is likely something different, like Zoomba, slayer of small creatures...or YYYYYYEEEEEEEoooooOOOOOOOOOOOwwwwwWWWWWWW, eater of moths. But, he is Rory to me.

After I had Jude, this sickness seemed to have infected several friends and family members as well. I cannot tell you how many cards were inscribed as such:

To Baby "Jude".

I can just picture the air quotes. What? His name isn't really Jude? What is it, then...because I should surely be calling him by his proper name.

But the crowning glory?

The use of quotation marks to emphasize a word. For example:

What a "beautiful" day!!!

*stomp-stomp-fume*

(At this juncture, I would like to mention that I am aware that my grammar is not always perfect. I am much too fond of asterisks, parentheses and ellipses. I pepper my written conversations with emoticons and am never completely sure what to do with a comma, BUT...it's my blog. *grin*) <----a perfect example of my imperfect writing style.

3) The fact that gravity works on everything but my underwear. WHY must it always ride up, even as my boobs succumb to gravity's relentless pull?

4) The fact that my can of formula tells me that breastmilk is best for my baby:

I know. I failed at breastfeeding and I feel terrible about it as it is. Why rub it in?

My mother and I were at BabiesRUs a month or so ago, and she picked up an Evenflo bottle-gripper thingy because she wondered what it was. Right underneath the Evenflo logo, it said "Breastmilk is the best nutrition for your baby". You could have knocked me over with a feather.

I am tired of seeing these little reminders everywhere. There is more than enough guilt placed on moms as it is. Why add to it? And, what if I was using my bottle-gripper thingy on a bottle full of breastmilk?

5) Do you ever watch What Not To Wear?

I canNOT stand it when the wardrobe malfunctions turned fashion plates model-walk. I squirm. I comment on it every time. WHY is she twirling around a lamp post? WHAT is she doing to that hydrant? Something about those fake smiles and stiff-legged saunters make me twitch and flail.

Case in point: (the insanity REALLY begins at 3:47!)

(Stacy and Clinton would totally toss my entire wardrobe because ~~I still wear my maternity jeans because they are comfy~~ it is outdated and ugly.)

Mean Milk Toof

2010-04-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks, there has been a lot of this going on:

And this*:

And this:

And THIS:

He shark attacks objects...fingers, elbows, toys, the dog...barely eats**, hardly sleeps...all in the name of this:

The above sharp little sucker is smashing its way through my poor little son's tender gums. The one beside it is not far behind, and it feels like several others are not too far behind that.

Way to go ahead and grow up too fast on me, baby boy. :)

Oh, and...this is the cutest blog, EVER. It seems fitting, just about now. Enjoy:

My Milk Toof

* No, I did not buy that Sophie. It was given to Jude as a gift. I would NEVER spend $20 on a teething toy. ;)
** has anyone else's child refused to eat while cutting teeth? What are your thoughts on this phenomenon? Jude wails, kicks, arches, turns his head side to side, slaps the bottle out of his mouth. Swaddling no longer works. What did YOU do? Thanks in advance!

Wild Wednesday: Sarcastic Fringehead

2010-04-07T21:31:00.000-07:00

This was originally posted Nov.9th, 2009.

In my next life, I would like to be one of these guys.

I find them almost as funny as I find hippos...(and, I rarely laugh as hard as I did the time I watched a documentary featuring hippos) Sarcastic Fringehead! Best name ever.

A description:

The sarcastic fringehead - Neoclinus blanchardi - can be found in the waters of the Pacific Coast from San Francisco down to Baja California. Though the Fringehead is a small fish, rarely reaching a foot in length, they are known to be quite aggressive, even swimming after divers. Their native habitat is empty shells and small caves or burrows - though they are often observed living quite comfortably in discarded beer bottles and soda cans. Milton Love, noted fish biologist and author of "Probably More Than You Wanted to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast" has this to say about the fringehead:"Sarcastic fringeheads are occasionally taken by both sport and commercial fishermen, and when this happens, no one is completely comfortable. The fish tend to be cranky and the fishermen tend to be nervous. I have seen very rugged commercial fishermen, men who laugh in the face of danger, doing fairly amusing little dances while a 6-inch-long fish clamp sharp teeth around their thumbs."

and this one:

These fish are found along open coastlines on sand or hard mud bottoms , outside the breaker zone in depths of 3-73 m (10-240 ft ). They live in various kinds of shelters , such as empty clam or snail shells , abandoned burrows, and cracks in clay or rock outcroppings. They also find human trash such as cans and bottles satisfactory as a home worth protecting. Whatever the shelter used, a sarcastic fringehead claims it as its home territory, fiercely defending it against intruders. The larger the container , the larger the fringehead occupying it.

These fish give a whole new meaning to coveting someone elses stuff. Imagine if that was our way of dealing with the real estate market. You like someone else's house, so you just...take it. Sarcastically. With a really grumpy look on your face.

I could get into that.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

2010-04-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

Thunderstorms are unheard of here this time of year (heck...having no snow this time of year is unheard of), but this is what the sky looked like yesterday.

And, after the sky threw this beautiful hissy-fit...a rainbow appeared:

;) Happy spring everyone.

An Ill-Fated Easter Shoot...

2010-04-01T21:56:00.000-07:00

This photo sums up our afternoon...lol.

That basket seemed like a good idea. It really did. I mean...how cute! Put the happy, squealing baby into a sailor suit and put him in a basket so that grandma can snap cute pictures.

Jude had other ideas.

Rory liked the basket.

Just like that, the tone of the afternoon changed.

We even tried another basket.

B.C liked the basket... ;)

Out came the bunny ears:

At which point we admitted defeat. ;)

The beauy of it is...I love every single one of these shots. Nobody is expected to be shiny and happy all of the time, least of all a 5 month old baby. These photos depict my beautiful Jude just as accurately as his happy photos. He can be willful, tempermental, suspicious, opinionated and very melodramatic...just as he can be achingly sweet, gentle, enigmatic, snuggly, giggly and chatty. Mr. Personality, this one. I love his every mood...relish every giggle, soothe every sadness.

Check out the swollen gums. Teeth soon?

Every single moment with this child is precious. I wouldn't change a second of it.

Template Mania

2010-03-30T09:31:00.000-07:00

I have discovered the Blogger Template Editor, which means that my blog will likely change every few days for a little while. I apologize in advance for any irritation this may cause. I mean...so many choices. You can't give choices to an indecisive person. Especially pretty, sparkly, easy-as-pie choices.

As a peace offering, here is a goofy photograph I snapped of Jude in one of his finer moments.

Where is my trusty lasso of truth??

Many Malfunctions

2010-03-28T22:53:00.000-07:00

So, my computer died.

Twice.

I know, right?

First, it wouldn't wake up from its naps, which I related to...soI thought nothing of it. Then it began to randomly not boot up when I asked. I was nice to it...tried coaxing it, to no avail. So off to the Mothership (Best Buy) it went for a checkup.

I was told its hard drive had failed...lost all of my files because I am lazy and hadn't bothered to back anything up. Thankfully, all of Jude's pictures were also on a few other computers, so I still have those (PHEW!) but my music library! My poetry! My bookmarks!

*sob*

So, one week and one shiny, new (and very empty) hard drive later, what happened? The SAME DAMNED THING. Except worse. Blank screen, blank hard drive, blank Mailis. *pout*
BACK to the mothership it went, for another week...this time for a new motherboard and cooling system. Now it works. Tickety-boo, I think. But, they might as well have just given me a new computer.

I broke my blog, too. I tried a new template on for size and didn't like it, so away it went...along with my blog list and some of the formatting for this template. I think it's fixed, except for the blog list. I will remedy that as soon as I find all of my favorite blogs again.

My dignity also took a hit last week. I wandered through Best Buy, chatted with the Geek Squad and other patrons, looked at games, cooed at Jude, watched others coo at Jude, drooled over laptops and considered purchasing more RAM for my broken one. I have replayed all of these things in my mind several times since that day...each time with a cringe...because when I left the store, I suddenly felt cold air clawing at my previously warm nether regions and realized my fly was down. ALL THE WAY. How long had it been down? Is THAT why the Geek Squad guy could not stop burying his chin against his pocket protector to stifle giggles? I thought the amused glances were because Jude was "talking"...not because I was flappin' in the breeze.

*sigh*

For your viewing pleasure, a hair malfunction...because there are no photos of my fly malfuction, thank GOD. *

What? It's my halo.

* Now that I said that, I will probably find footage of it somewhere in cyberland, and my humiliation will be complete.

Too, too lazy...

2010-03-10T21:30:00.000-08:00

Blogging has gone by the wayside. My brain seems to have taken a (hopefully temporary) nosedive, complete with sound effects (wooooooooooooooooo....THUD!).

So, I offer photographs instead. Cute ones, even. All of the photographs you are about to see were taken by my mother, because I am too lazy to even pick up a camera . ;)

Mouse wants to be a baby, too...

Tulips in the process of opening in a kitchen sunbeam.

The "big boy" in his high chair for the first time.

My mouth unconsciously mimics his. Here I am taking an imaginary bite of rice and beans. ;)

He LOVES eating.

See? :)

Ok, I lied. I did take this one. He looked like he was listening for the fairy-folk.

An adorable smile and a hair malfunction all wrapped up in one cute little package.

Blankets are yummy. Hands are yummy.

And, there you have it. A little slice of life around here. Words really aren't needed, don't you think?

Classical Baby

2010-03-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

If you have children, and were considering buying this series...these 2 videos are why you should go straight to your local Best Buy (or wherever)...lol...and pick them up.

Jude is 4 months old, and as much as I hate letting him watch television (he freaking loves tv) I didn't mind him zoning out in front of this. It's visually beautiful, the music is wonderful, and Jude sat enraptured the ENTIRE time it was on. Huh??

Just watch. You'll enjoy it, too.

Shapes, from The Art Show:

Bear Hugs, from The Music Show:

Oh, and by the way, this little endorsement was completely unsolicited. I just really like the product. :)

Yo, Cynthia... :)

2010-03-05T13:05:00.000-08:00

Warmth comes wildly...

galloping galloping. A

trotting tick-tock, the

hoofbeat heartbeat of'

blackberry winter.

The equinox flocks in,

on the winds,

on the wings

of many freed starlings.

Birdsong, sing-a-long,

caged no longer.

Go...go, barefoot

drum beats arouse the

slumbering soil. Spring

to the edge of winter,

and start

anew.

Did I make spring prettier for you? LOL.

.

Jude and...ummm...friends?

2010-02-27T09:47:00.000-08:00

OMGOMG...it is touching me!

Help?

(OMGOMG)

(Body language means everything. First you steal the toy, then you angle yourself away from the offending party...)

Oh, and since they are bigger now...the obligatory "Stacey and Mailis holding babies that are not our own" picture.

(I am as wide as a linebacker. Time to start running, or at the very least playing tackle football...ugh.)

Anyone lived in a pretty how town...

2010-02-24T10:46:00.000-08:00

When I was first asked to do a post about my town for Blogtrotting, I was a little chagrined. I could not for the life of me think of what to write about this tiny village I call home. Yes, village. It's too small to even be considered a town. Population? 350.

Mhmm. You heard me.

After putting a lot of thought into it, (and a little research), I realized that my little village has a rich history. And while it might not seem like much now, it was a pretty bangin' place to live back in the day. Literally. But, I will get back to that.

First I would like to ~~tell~~ show you a little bit about the province of Manitoba, because it has a little bit of everything. White sand beaches, a desert, polar bears, prairies, panoramic skies, massive freshwater lakes, boreal forests, a little bit of (really COLD) ocean and its own little corner of the Great Canadian Shield.

Grand Beach, Manitoba.

You'd find these guys up near Churchill, Manitoba.

Hudson's Bay. Brrrr.

A familiar sight around here.

The Spirit Sands. Carberry, Manitoba.

Westhawk Lake. Made by a meteor, deep as heck.

My little village is in the South East of Manitoba. It is situated near some very prime farm land, and plopped on top of a huge deposit of dolomite limestone.

That big red dot makes it look bigger than it is.

In fact, that limestone is the reason there is a village here at all. It's top grade, and has been used in the construction of buildings all over North America. If you live in Omaha, Nebraska...or Houston, Texas...or Butte, Montana, or Ottawa, Ontario (to name a few) there is a little bit of my home tucked into a building near you.

A long, long time ago, most of Manitoba was covered in a massive lake called Lake Agassiz.

The limestone (called Tyndall Stone because, though it was blasted out of the ground in Garson, it was shipped over to the town of Tyndall before it could make its way to bigger and better places) is what is left of all the little creatures that once swam around in said lake. And, the fossils are fabulous. I spent many a day fossil hunting as a child, and still look for them to this day. You would, too. They are everywhere.

Back in the main quarrying days, this place was boomin'. But, there isn't much to do in this village these days unless you like a) fossil hunting, b) going for long walks or c) eating. Garson boasts 2 service stations, a ~~hotel~~ watering hole, a post office, a small grocery store, a gas bar and a restaurant. The grocery store, post office, gas bar and restaurant are all in the same building. *grin*

If you ever do make it to my neck of the woods, be sure to check out The Harvest Moon Cafe, though. You won't be sorry. World renowned for its self described "sarcastic waitering" and amazing food (cooked by an array of stellar staff, headed by 5 star chef Andrew Strong), it's worth a visit. The atmosphere is second to none. I mean, where else could you find a 5 star restaurant with a "farmer table"? Yes, you heard me. A farmer table. At which the farmers sit in boots and coveralls, eat their toast and jam, drink their coffee and talk of seeding while the people at the next table eat this:

or this:

It's wonderful, and truly unique. Make sure you thoroughly check out the decor, too. There are beautiful, hand carved masterpieces all over the walls made by Sheila Grycki (the restaurant owner herself) and a hand painted mural on the back wall. Clicky-clicky to enlarge.

And, whatever you do, don't anger the waitstaff.

C'mon. I dare you.

All in all, I know Garson doesn't seem like much, but it's home. People here stop and ask if you want a ride when they see you walking. And, they're not even creepers! There are deer and bears and bunnies in the back yard! Even if it IS cold enough to freeze a witch's tit here for 7 out of 12 months, there aren't really many places I would rather be.

Because there is this out the front window:

In the winter, everything is the same color.

And these, if you are willing to look more closely:

And, a whole lot of this:

What more could a girl ask for?

I hope you enjoyed your tour, blogtrotters. If you ever do find your way here, let me know and I'll take you fossil hunting. I know allll the best spots.

I leave you with this (because I've always loved it, and it seems fitting somehow):

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that no one loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and no one stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
no one and anyone earth by april
with by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

ee cummings

(breadcrumbs)

2010-02-22T19:39:00.000-08:00

What is to be done for

the taciturn ghost who sneaks

through soundlessly

on its fingertips? Perhaps

it devours

memory; bends

time downward like a

fruit-laden branch

and feeds.

Sometimes

it dances behind closed

eyelids; or broods

under a porch light,

hands in its pockets.

When it departs, it dashes

out the window and to the

south at the speed

of never, its redshift

in tow like a

phoenix tail.

Does it mean harm? To

consume that which I hold

most dear and

leave me with

nothing but a

dream turned nightmare,

wrapped in apologies?

does it simply

remember?

This little boy...

2010-02-21T20:12:00.000-08:00

is 4 months old.

There have been too many milestones between this month and the last that it would be impossible to list them all.

He now naps like a champ, can almost sit up on his own steam, eats (baby) oatmeal and rice and apples and carrots, jumps like a kangaroo in the jolly jumper, and can even stand alone for a few seconds (with arms encircling him, but only so he doesn't fall backward or to either side.)

His "talking" is changing, too. There are squeals (bptbptbptbrrrrrr-RRRAAAAAAAAHAAAA!!!) and long, meandering stories. He talks through meals and in the bathtub, and sometimes in his sleep.

He laughs more often, too...although he doesn't find many things funny, being a serious little man. His grandma is his "fun person" and I am his "snuggle person", so most of his giggles belong to grandma. :)

Books excite him and slow music makes him cry. He can hold his bottle and eat from it himself (but I am not willing to give up bottle time snuggles just yet, so he doesn't get much practice). He has found his toes and can almost get them to his mouth.

And, best of all, he has wiggle-wormed himself even deeper into my heart than he already was. If that is possible. In fact, I think my heart might burst.

Happy 4 months, beautiful boy. I love you.

Itty-bitty...

2010-02-20T20:21:00.000-08:00

sock fuzz!!!

As mentioned before...

2010-02-20T20:00:00.000-08:00

my charming, charming son:

is obsessed with his hands.

I don't know if he is teething, or if this is just a phase. His hands even trump his bottle.

Taking pictures of him these days is a challenge. Just when you think those hands will be out of the way, you get a photograph of him insanely trying to GET at his hands. I'm telling you. It's charming. Especially when you can see all the way down his throat and up his nostrils.

I hope this phase ends soon, because his smile is so precious.

(In looking at these pictures now, I am coming to the full realization of how much hair he has actually lost. I mean, I know he's been losing it. I find it on the bed, in my clothes, in the bathtub and in his mouth, but wow. That "Ernie" tuft on top is practically all he has left! Cute!)

5 More Things (which makes 10 today)

2010-02-18T22:10:00.000-08:00

Oh-ho! That was some impressive math, there. I am so smart...ess emm ar-tee.

(Seriously, though...that was pretty much the extent of my math skills)

1) I love feeding my baby. There could be nothing more relaxing, or satisfying. I may never do anything important...may never write that poetry book, or unify the forces...but my baby is fed, and flourishing.

We lay down to eat...me on my back and propped with pillows, and him snuggled on his side and cradled in my left arm. Ever since we stopped breastfeeding, it has been this way. I watch his lips pull at the bottle, smooth his hair and tell him he is doing a good job. Kiss his forehead and wrangle his crazy hands. Sometimes he pushes the bottle out of his mouth so he can stuff his hand in there. (He's an addict. All about the hands.) Sometimes he gently tugs at the hair on the back of his head, or twirls the tuft of hair he has on top. Sometimes he pulls mine, or grasps the bottle, or arranges his fist just so, so that he tricks himself into thinking he is sucking his thumb.

It's wonderful. It's peaceful. It's ours.

2) I also love burping my baby.

When the bottle is finished, or he decides he is finished, I roll him onto his tummy and pat his diaper-bum. Back patting doesn't work, but pat the bum and out come the most adorable little belches. This little ritual has not changed much, either...except he now lifts his head to look me in the eye. Grins, burps, and then grins again with a flirty eyebrow wiggle...as if to say: "Ooooh...did you smell that one, mommy? Heheh!".

I tell him that I am collecting burps, and I need a few more REALLLLLY big ones to round out the collection. He always complies, and has the grace to look surprised when the huge ones happen. "Oh, no-no...that did NOT come out of me!....did it?"

3) Jude has a girlfriend. She is 6 months old and can sit all by herself, which seems to have made an impression. After making strange with both her and her mother, he was able to slump beside her as she perkily sat munching a toy. She taught and he observed. She chewed and he chatted. She patted him, and he looked confused.

Oh, young love. The poor boy still doesn't know what hit him. He just knows it was blond, brown-eyed and apple-cheeked.

Pictures forthcoming.

4) So, the Olympics are a flop? I really need to actually sit down and watch some of it, or read the paper. It's like I live in a paper bag that smells of milk and that gel they put in diapers. A young man died trying to navigate the luge course (soooo awful)...and some equipment broke down (not the end of the world, fuck.) It is raining. (In Vancouver? NO SHIT!) The Canadians are dominating practice time. Letterman is upset because the Canadians are trying to win. Boo-hoo. Everyone else gets the upper hand on their home turf, and what are we supposed to do? I know we generally adopt the peacekeeper role, but seriously. We want gold. Who doesn't? I think Canadians as a nation NEED to start being assholes more often. If only for the sheer element of surprise.

So, it should be like this?

German skier: Ich möchte gewinnen.

Canadian skier: Oh yeah...sure. You go ahead. I'll wait until next time. No biggie. :)

What I have seen looked good. I mean, literally. The fog on the mountains. The sheer Canadian-ness of it all. The seemingly never ending parade of pink-cheeked athletes. It's nice (aside from that horrible luge incident and all the hoopla surrounding it...) and it feels like home.

5) He is not for the faint of heart, but if you can withstand black humor and black, hockey and Jesus being mashed together into one delightful phrase, go take a look at BHJ. I have linked to him before and will do it again.

His most recent post explores the blog world. Specifically, commenting on one blog so that people will come read yours. LOL. It's hysterical. I wish I'd thought of that. It's so underhand and self-serving, using one another like that. And little 'ol me just commenting because I like something.

It has potential. Hmmmm.

Excuse me while I go comment at Dooce.

5 Things

2010-02-18T12:57:00.000-08:00

1) In three days, Jude will be 4 months old. I am having a hard time believing it. I must be in a time-warp, because it was just yesterday that I pushed him out...that I shuffled around in slippers at Walmart because my feet were too swollen for shoes...that I learned that love can so big it fills the universe and still spills over into oblivion. Things have changed so much since those first "getting to know you" days. Jude has found his toes, jumps in a Jolly Jumper, chats endlessly, laughs at the word "what?!" and takes his baths in the grownup bathtub. But, I don't know how it all happened. Part of me is still cradling that beautiful, slime-covered newborn, and I imagine that will never change even as everything else does.

2) 14 pounds and 26 inches long...50th and 75th percentile. Tall for his age. But, then...I knew that. When I carry him vertically, his legs hang down to my upper mid thigh. Horizontally, they bounce as I walk.

3) Right in the middle of writing #2, I got up to change a poopy diaper. How appropriate. Problem is, he wasn't finished...not by a long shot. It just kept coming, so I held the diaper under his bottom to catch it. I thought: "OK...we will get through this. No big deal..." and then, on his final push, he peed in his own face. At which point I realized that I should have just put the darned diaper back on. Poor little dude.

4) I urge you to visit this blog:

Sarah is turning her blog into a read-o-palooza to promote literacy. If you have a child, or know a child, or simply LOVE books written for children, head on over. She will be reviewing a book a week and there will be giveaways. Did that convince you? Yeah? Ok then, stop reading my lame-ass blog and get your butt over there. :)

5) Who am I kidding? Nobody reads this blog, anyway. LOL. Sorry Sarah...there will not be much traffic from my neck of the woods, but I deserve an A for effort. Facebook is likely a better option. ;)

Hyper-Parenting

2010-02-12T22:08:00.000-08:00

When I was little, I went barefoot.

I rode my bike with friends until dusk, played jump rope on the street and caught minnows at a local pond. I had play clothes, and scraped knees...got dirty and stinky and messy.

I was a kid. And so were all the other kids. Summer evenings were kid paradise. Everyone was out in their yard, and as the evening progressed, the mingling would begin. If you didn't happen to be outside, kids would come to the door and ask your parents if you could go out to play. Handstands in the yard. Cartwheels. Lightning bugs in jars.

These days, kids play video games, chat on the computer and talk on their cellphones. If they have time, that is...between all of their extra-curricular activities. Ballet, soccer, piano, language classes, gymnastics and tutoring.

Free range kids are scarce. Summer is a hushed affair because the kids are all at swimming, or hockey camp. Preparing their portfolios for who the hell knows what. Organizing the contacts on their Blackberries.

It is the age of the hyper-parent...parents that circle over their children like blackhawk helicopters, bent on giving their offspring everything they didn't have themselves. 4 year old children are playing soccer in competitive leagues and going to tutoring so that they can get into private school. 10 year old children are writing the cover letters for their Harvard applications. Some of the parental pioneers of this phenomenon are even calling their bright, shiny offspring's boss to complain about salary, or a bad performance review.

Children no longer seem to play outside unless they are with their parents...on a guided, educational bike tour of the neighborhood.

It's sad.

Now, I will admit that I plan to do flashcards with Jude to give him a good basis in reading and spelling. I would also like to try signing, even though he already has a very effective way of communicating exactly what he wants.

But, if he fails, he fails. I don't care what school he gets into, or whether he is smarter or better than the other children his age. His childhood will not be a competition, or a race. He will have play clothes, climb trees and get dirty. Extra curricular activities will be his choice, not mine...and they will not be based on where they will get him in the future. Only on how much fun he will have doing them.

Sure, he will likely be in the band at school...and if he is anything like me, he will join every choir possible and secretly hope for singing lessons. So be it.

Jude will be Jude...not my version of Jude.

How could this child be anything short of amazing? How could any child?

And...More Happy Tinged With Sad...

2010-02-10T22:30:00.000-08:00

These videos are done by the same people that created the previous Blue October video. I am in love...

PINK MONKEY STUDIO

Mika "Rain" PMS from PrettyMonkeyStudio on Vimeo.

Mika "Toy Boy" PMS from PrettyMonkeyStudio on Vimeo.

2010-02-10T21:12:00.000-08:00

Oh, this just made me so happy.

Blue October "Jumprope" PMS from PrettyMonkeyStudio on Vimeo.

(and it made me cry, too...)

Wordless Wednesday

2010-02-09T23:08:00.000-08:00

Did you know...

2010-02-06T22:51:00.000-08:00

that there are people out there who actually believe the earth is flat?

I guess people can believe in anything if given evidence to suit their own needs. Even if it is completely illogical.

I believe in magic and ghosts, telepathy and empathy because those things are simply...part of my belief system. God, I am not so sure of. If God is, in actuality, the universe...I just might buy it. Either way, I would love to have a conversation with Him/Her/It. To be convinced. Or, at the very least, to enjoy a unique experience.

It's funny, though...the sheer diversity out there. There is probably someone out there who believes that he or she could turn in a circle three times, burp twice, and then pop into the next dimension as a 2D Marilyn Monroe.

All the power to them, I say.

Whatever floats your balloon. :)

If you want more info on the Flat Earth Society, here you go.

Flat Earth Society

On Not Writing --- {W}rite-of-Passage challenge #8

2010-02-05T21:11:00.000-08:00

Page 55 of Bird by Bird, "All you can give us is what life is about from your point of view."

Plot is the main point of your story. Every blog post is a story, however short or long you create it. What is the point of this post?

Write a post with a clear plot- the point in which you are trying to make.

The cursor taunts me.

I am contemplating this blank, white page...realizing that filling it with words would be impossible. Not just because these internet doohickeys could absorb infinite words, but because somewhere along the way, my brain ran dry.

I am not sure how it happened. Once, I was full of poetry...just brimming with symbolism and hyperbole. And, even though I just inadvertently rhymed poetry and hyperbole, the rest is gone gone gone. I no longer think in poetry, let alone hyperbole. In fact, it might be better if I tried not to think at all.

Yes, the stars are beautiful tonight, and yes, when I peer up at them, they look like they are rushing down at me with the intention of landing at my feet. On nights like tonight, I smell burning magnolia leaves. Russian perfume and patchouli mix up in my mind. I hear babies breath and the milky way tastes like honey.

But, I can't write.

I can only draw from experience. Hop and skip through the rotating, never-to-be linear sidewinder called time. Read between the dimensional lines. Seek patterns in both clouds and chaos.

Write my life by living it.

2010-02-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

Antebellum (by Vienna Teng)

In the fall,
We circle through the leaves
And talk about the little ones.
And we smile, but never say too much.
The moment always vanishing.
One by one the neighbors' lights come on.
Our October day is almost gone.

I know the border lines we drew between us
Keep the weapons down,
Keep the wounded safe;
I know our antebellum innocence
Was never meant to see the light of our armistice day.

In the spring,
We climbed the rolling hills
And talked about our budding plans.
And we smiled,
Our faces like a mirror
Showing us our secret sides.
But then the fights...
The sharp words splintering the night,
How I couldn't be what you'd need...
But oh how I could make you bleed...

I know the border lines we drew between us
Keep the weapons down,
Keep the wounded safe;
I know our antebellum innocence
Was never meant to see the light of our armistice.
But how much would I give to have it back again?
How much did we lose
To live this way?

You'll go home...I'll stay here
Seasons keep on marching
I'll stay here...you'll go home

With only strangers watching.

Photoshoot With Grandma

2010-02-03T19:10:00.000-08:00

Wild Wednesday

2010-02-02T22:26:00.000-08:00

This installment of Wild Wednesday belongs to the Pebble Toad. Cute and wily, this one. :)

From the BBC Website:

When confronted by a predator, some animals fight, others run while a few hide, hoping not to be noticed.

The pebble toad of Venezuela does something altogether different: it curls up like a ball and throws itself down the side of a mountain.

By doing so, the tiny creature bounces down the rocks just like a rubber ball.

This extraordinary tumbling behaviour has been filmed in slow motion by a BBC crew for the natural history programme Life.

The pebble toad (Oreophrynella niger) is tiny, measuring just a few centimetres long.

It lives on the top of a type of mountain known as a tepui, which occur across the Guiana Highlands in South America.

These table-topped mountains rise out of the rainforest, isolating the animals and plants that live upon them.

As a result, many of the creatures have evolved differently.

For example, the pebble toad is unable to jump very far, an inch being the furthest it can hop.
While there are no snakes living on the tepui, this lack of athletic prowess makes the toads vulnerable to marauding tarantulas, an ambush predator.

The ball position

So the toads have evolved a unique escape mechanism.

A threatened toad folds its arms and legs under its body, tucks in its head and tenses its muscles, assuming a "ball position".

Because the amphibian is mostly likely resting on an incline, it then rolls downhill like a dislodged pebble.

The toads travel far enough to escape the attentions of the tarantulas and often tumble into a crack or crevice where they are out of sight or difficult to reach.

The toad's black and grey colour also helps it blend in with its sandstone habitat.

The toad is so small and light that the forces of impact are too tiny to cause it any harm.

However, as well as being less than impressive jumpers, the toads do not swim well.

So while most that land in puddles survive, there are reports of toads drowning after tumbling into deeper pools of water.

The team located the toads with the help of biologist Dr Bruce Means, an Adjunct Professor at Florida State University, US and head of a non-profit conservation organisation called the Coastal Plains Institute and Land Conservancy, based in Florida.

Dr Means ventured up the tepui, located in southeast Venezuela, to find the toads.

Life assistant producer Mr Scott and cameraman Mr Rod Clarke then followed a few days later to film the action, using slow motion cameras capable of recording up to 2000 frames per second.

"The first time I saw one of the toads on a rock one morning, we saw each other, and I made some sudden movement, and it flicked itself back and flopped down into a channel at the bottom of the rock," says Mr Scott.

"We'd been told they do this thing and then it did it to me. It was an unusual thing to see at the top of a mountain. They just curl up and flop."

The tumbling pebble toad can be seen on the BBC series Life, which is broadcast at 2100BST on BBC One on Monday 19 October.

5 Things...(Cloud Afro Edition)

2010-02-01T23:45:00.000-08:00

This made me laugh, so I dedicate this ramble to cloud afro man.

1) It is 12:45am, and I just got the baby to bed. His diabolical little hands are keeping him awake...flapping around, grasping at his hair, grabbing his soother and pulling it out. He is just learning to fully control them, and I think he is practicing in his sleep, too. I finally tightly swaddled him and lightly blew on his eyelids until his hands gave up the good fight and let their (almost) master sleep.

2) A few nights ago, I dreamed that I was being attacked by armies of enormous orange tigers. They were hunting me, skulking around in the ditches and the shadows. I could see them and knew that, inevitably, they would attack. I could deflect them...push them away, scare them back into the grass. Finally, a massive white one pinned me down and I woke up. I blamed this on reading too much "Tigerflower" to Jude, but then I checked out a dream interpretation site.

"To dream that you are attacked by a tiger, symbolizes repressed feelings or emotions that frighten you."

Awesome.

3) I love the sound of baby burps. I am convinced that if I ever heard an elf burp, I would be immediately reminded of Jude's little belches.

4) I see wee fingers holding onto the edge of a blanket. THE EVIL ONES ARE LOOSE!!! (but, the baby is still sleeping. Booyah!)

5) Poltergeist: The Legacy actually managed to freak me out this afternoon. There was a scene in which a woman gives birth to a...I don't even know. It looked like a human fetus, except it clawed out of her and when she looked down, it turned its head to look up at her and smiled this horrible little smile. Then it whipped her around the room by its cord (which seemed to still be attached to her hoo-haa!) Ahhhhh! OK...seriously. That is just so wrong. I know newborns can be scary, but...wow.

I found a quote from the actress who actually had to do this scene:

"I am birthing evil incarnate," she explains, "and I'm being dragged around by the demon by its umbilical cord, because he didn't quite bank on the fact that once he's out he's still attached to me. That part's kind of horrifying and scary, but right at the end of it I open my eyes and what I see is my son who died a year ago, standing like an angel. Part of me is experiencing my dead son being reborn, so it's a really interesting scene, because this extreme violence of birth is also a kind of bliss. I'm sort of in a trance."

And, on that note, I am going to go snuggle up with my baby and have sweet dreams.

8-/

Sitting Practice...(Another Series)

2010-01-31T14:15:00.000-08:00

Jude's Bestie

2010-01-28T22:34:00.000-08:00

There has never been a decent picture of the two of us.

Stacey has been my friend since 7th grade. We met a few weeks into the school year, and that very day we pushed our desks together and started scheming. We were going to build a go-cart and bake a 6 tier cake. We bought candy by the bagful and ate in class, hopped hay bails and flew kites all summer...blew up 3 bags of water balloons and released them on the neighbor's lawn, and nearly burnt down his bush while roasting marshmallows.

When I called her to tell her that I was pregnant, she simply said: "Funny you should say that, because I was just at the doctor, and..."

And now, she has a little boy to play with my little boy.

I wonder what kind of mischief they will get into together.

I can't wait to find out.

* Doesn't it look like we somehow switched babies? I always thought that if I had a child, my child would be blonde and blue eyed, and that she would have the dark, swarthy child. Go figure.

Not Me Monday

2010-01-25T15:48:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I am not one of those mothers. You know the ones I am talking about. Their child is the best of the best. The smartest, the most beautiful, the funniest. So, that being said, I would never assume that anyone would actually be interested in the fact that my son now sleeps through the night every single night. That when he smiles (which is often) his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth in the most charming way, showcasing his adorable bottom gums. That he is getting grabby, and his legs are strong, and his eyelashes extra long, and his thighs and bum have baby cellulite, and his hair is getting a reddish tint to it (ohLordhelpme).

So, I am not telling you any of these things.

I don't over-celebrate every small achievement, either. Like, for example, when Jude fills a diaper, I do not practically throw a poop party, complete with clapping and silly dancing. You would never, ever overhear me saying "Ooooh...that was an awesome fart! A cow could not have done it better!" or "That sure wasn't a crop duster! Loud and proud, eh kiddo?"

Because, farts are not funny. I am not looking forward to the day that Jude's uncles teach him the "pull my finger" game.

How 'bout you?

Think He Likes His Jolly Jumper?

2010-01-24T18:54:00.000-08:00

Ugh.

His Saucer Thing?

Hello? Come get me now, please???

His Cloth Diapers?

No? I don't think so, either.

Newborn No Longer

2010-01-22T15:13:00.000-08:00

Yes, Jude was 3 months old yesterday, and yes...I just realized how quickly time seems to move when you have a wee one. Perhaps it goes by while I am fighting the good fight against the sleep-deprived fuzzies, or maybe time whizzes by while I am gazing at my newborn, turned infant, turned baby. All I know is...it's whizzing, and I can hardly believe my little guy can laugh, tell me what he wants with his expression alone, get his legs into crawling position and kick me so hard in his sleep I feel my teeth rattle. It seems as though he will consistently roll from back to front before front to back, and he transports himself from one place to another by inch-worming on his back. That back can ARCH! We co-sleep, and I have to keep a hand on him, just in case.

Yay for me!!!!

Today was his first time in the Jolly Jumper, and it was a very serious occasion. He stood there...with lips slightly parted and wonder-full eyes...unsure of what to do, but loving it all the same. He spent a lot of time staring upward at the mechanics of it all. How does this work? Why am I standing? What happens if I move a foot? An arm? My head?

It was fun to watch, but...he looked like such a big boy. My heart broke a little, even as I laughed and clapped for him.

He also visited the public health nurse today for a weigh and once-over. He is just shy of 12 pounds and is very long and lean. In her words? "He looks GOOD." So good to know that, I tell ya. She then procured a booklet with proper feeding timetables (solids at 6 months, chunky solids at 7, finger foods at 9, etc) because I mentioned to her that we'd started Jude on a little bit of thin rice cereal from a spoon at breakfast and supper the day before his 3 month "birthday". ;) He is a hungry boy, and even after massive amounts of formula he wasn't really full. Now he is, and is still eating the same amount of formula, peeing and pooping really well, digesting like a champ and happy as a clam. He is all smiles at cereal time...turns into a baby bird when he sees the spoon coming.

Not a common practice, I know...but, some babies will want (and tolerate) cereal, and that is just the way it is. It's not like he is eating surf and turf. :)

To celebrate all of these milestones, I made cupcakes.

Yes, they look kinda lame, and yes...that is blue cream cheese icing with too much vanilla on chocolate cupcakes made from Betty Crocker cake mix, but they are delicious, thank-you-for-asking.

Here they are hanging out with the Five Alive and the Enfamil.

There is even a ghetto one with only one sprinkle, but Jude doesn't mind.

It's not like he can eat them anyway.

Happy 3 months, babylove. I can't wait until you can actually EAT your cupcakes, (and yet, ow...eating cupcakes would make you a very big boy, wouldn't it??)

Wild Wednesday

2010-01-20T17:16:00.000-08:00

Another Wednesday, another nightmare.

Female Angler fish

Excuse me while I pee my pants.

I mean...any fish with teeth like that, tentacles AND a built-in glowing fishing pole is absolutely diabolical in my book. However, I am oddly fascinated. So fascinated, in fact, that if I was in a horror movie, I would be the first to die.

Just look into her...ummm...glowing orb of doom!

I found the passage below here:

(spelling and grammatical errors are as I found them)

Another anomaly about these fish is that the males have no need for the fishing rod adaptation. Rather than continuously seeking prey and mates, the males have adapted to become parasites in their own accord, and are fed and cared for by the much larger female. They become, in essence, permanent mates.When a young, male angler encounters a female, he latches onto her with his sharp teeth.

Over the course of time, the male physically fuses his own body with that of the female, connecting to her skin and their bloodstreams fuse as well… He loses his eyes and all of his internal organs except for only the testes, and remains there for the rest of his life.

The female fishes have permanent mates and in point of fact most females have more than just one, They will carry as many as ten males on their bodies, however the average is about five or six..

Blech.

Scrumptious In Stripes

2010-01-20T10:13:00.000-08:00

Ta-Da!!!!

2010-01-19T16:02:00.000-08:00

Not Me Monday

2010-01-18T16:22:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I'm just gonna get right into it.

I have not eaten an entire jar of green olives over the past 3 or so days. That being said, I definitely would not sneak into the fridge at 3am, fill a bowl with olives, sneak back upstairs and then consume every...single...one. Juice, too.

The Incredible Hulk (old cheesy TV show, not the movie) has not caught my attention all of a sudden. I do not spend entirely too much time puzzling over the point of the Hulk...whether he is a good guy at heart or not. And, why does his green coloring seem to rub off on his jeans more often than not. And, how it is that he rips his shirt off because it's too small, but leaves on his pants. Does his ass not grow along with the rest of him?

I did not make note to remember these lines from said show this morning because they stuck me as extremely funny:

*handing his new wife a little cup of liquid*

David Banner: Here, drink this.
New Wife (dunno her name): What is it?
David Banner: Just a little chemotherapy I whipped up this morning.

Ahahahaaaaa.

What have YOU not been up to?

All Dogs Go To Heaven...

2010-01-16T17:09:00.000-08:00

don't they???

http://www.postrapturepets.com/

(pay special attention to the "Evaluation" section...LOL!!!)

http://www.a-voice.org/qa/pets.htm

http://www.jesuspets.com/Home/6/Make.hard.CA.H.from.home.while.the.world.is.in.flames.aspx

The world has gone mad, I tell you.

(I will not be attending the Rapture, so I guess that is $115 I don't have to spend...) ;)

Snugglies

2010-01-15T20:55:00.000-08:00

Look who discovered the joys of having a blankie.

Jude Wakes Up (A Series)

2010-01-12T22:25:00.000-08:00

Wiggle, Pop, Pop!

2010-01-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

Jude must have been Houdini in his past life.

This kid will work at it for as long as it takes to painstakingly rid himself of a swaddle. He starts by wiggling his legs...effectively loosening the swaddle from below. Once he has his feet free, he flops like a fish out of water until he frees one arm. The other follows easily. Pop!

If I seem delirious, it's because I barely slept last night.

Why, you ask?

My son, when not swaddled, is a maniac. I am not kidding. His arms have minds of their own. It's like "The Birds"...his hands peck at his face, flutter against his forehead, claw against his nose. They spring into flight at the slightest noise and flap around wildly...waking the baby they are attached to.

I was terrified to move and wished I could swaddle myself. You know how it is. The moment you need to be still, your nose itches...or your muscles involuntarily twitch...or you have a horrible tickle in your throat. It's torture. I lay in bed wide awake and paranoid for a few hours...watching my son's arms flip and flop and flap about before I finally had enough. I moved with great gusto. I may have even flailed, so happy was I to stretch my poor, twitchy body.

And, the baby woke up all the way. ;)

I fed him, burped him, talked to him a bit, gloated over how beautiful he is, and then plopped him on my chest to sleep out the rest of the night. The turkey.

Darn co-sleeping, anyway.

Anyone else dealing with this same issue? What have you done to improve the situation all around?

When I FINALLY fell asleep, I dreamed that I was being stalked by a murderous, telekinetic girl-child named Natasha. (As my mother pointed out, Natasha is "Ah Satan" when flipped around...LOL!) She would hurl me into the air with her mind and somehow stab me repeatedly in the neck before I hit the ground. At one point, she turned into a cat and silently followed me around, springing out at me periodically. (Don't ask how I survived being thrown into the air and stabbed because I don't remember...ha!)

Then Jude wiggled on my chest just as the Natasha-cat got her claws into me, and I was awake again. And, I was glad.

That was one scary-ass cat!

Not Me Monday

2010-01-11T10:32:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I am not so paranoid about Jude's sleeping habits (read: either waking up every 15 minutes, or sleeping for 6 hours) that I don't go to sleep until I am 100% sure he is asleep. This does not usually mean that if I put him to bed at midnight, I am full of paranoia until 3am...at which point I very carefully fold myself under the covers and remain terrified to so much as move a toe or roll over until he wakes up at around 6.

I have not become a late night TV aficionado as a result of these nocturnal goings on. I have not kinda gotten into "Poltergeist, the Legacy" (the lamest show, EVAH!) and I definitely do not get extremely excited when I see that "A Haunting" is on.

"A Haunting" did not freak me out so badly last night that I was unable to fall asleep right away because I kept feeling eyes on me.

I do not find this photo hilarious because it looks like something from the above show is stalking my son:

No, Jude does not sleep in his car seat (pictured above covered in a blanket to make it look more like a real bed) beside me on my bed.

*sigh*

:D

2010-01-08T08:43:00.001-08:00

Wild Wednesday...

2010-01-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

Today, it is all about the Blob Fish.

He looks kinda like a pissed off Ziggy

Yes, this is a real fish. I had my doubts, too. I took one look at that morose, globular face and thought "Oh dear God, NO! No way that thing exists outside of my nightmares!"...but, there you have it.

(Blobby? You've got something on your lip. No...other side.)

This guy is all about being lazy, but it isn't his fault. He carries on his carefree existence under extreme pressure. Bottom of the ocean pressure. He has no need for muscles or an air bladder because he is made of goo and is only very slightly less dense than water. He doesn't swim...he hovers sadly, waiting for a meal to float by.

The eggs produced by this fish are pink and tended very carefully. They sit on these eggs the way chickens do, protecting and constantly touching and cleaning them. I wonder what it is like tending 9000 to 180,000 eggs? (And, I wonder what baby blob fish look like. Eek!)

If you are ever drag-net fishing off the coasts of Tasmania or Australia, be on the lookout for these beauties.Heh.

Jude Saying "Mom" at 2 Months...

2010-01-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

Jude and the Funky Chicken from Mailis on Vimeo.

The Momma Club

2010-01-05T11:22:00.000-08:00

Before I had Jude, I always envied the women who'd had babies and lived to tell about it.

I mean, jeez...it seemed to be the ultimate sacrifice, really. The stretch marks, the round ligament pain, the morning sickness...and then the sagging boobs, the mis-shapen hoo-haa, the hair loss and the 3am feedings. It all added up to this:

If you have a uterus and have used it, you are a freaking hero.

Now, after my own experience with all of these things, it doesn't seem so heroic. It just seems normal. I have a son, and he cries at 3am sometimes. Occasionally, he barfs down the front of my shirt. My hoo-haa will never be the same and my boobs are pointing toward hell itself.

And, you know what? I am loving every single moment.

However, it did not occur to me until just recently that I am now a member of the momma club. I am one of THOSE women. We are the sisterhood of the stretched snapper. A sleepless army. We are woman, hear us roar. :)

I now smile knowingly to myself when someone who doesn't have any children says anything about motherhood, or has an opinion about something momma related. That was me once. I had NO idea. I wasn't going to have the epidural...I was going to cloth diaper and breastfeed. I was going to spring blithely out of my hospital bed immediately after birth, and my boobs? My boobs were gonna stay perky, dammit.

The best laid plans always get diligently buried in the litterbox.

My water broke at 5:45am on the 20th of October and Jude was born at 1:53pm on the 21st of October. I got morphine after laboring intensely for 20 hours, and an epidural after 24 hours.
I froze too much (all the up to my neck), and when Jude finally came, my body was a wreck. I did not spring out of bed. In fact, I fell on the way to the washroom.

Breastfeeding was a no-go. Jude is lactose intolerant. Cloth diapering? As soon as his bum grows into the cloth diapers I purchased, I will let you know.

I believe I already mentioned my boobs.

Aside from being a wonderful lesson in humility, and the most painful, mind-numbing thing I have ever experienced...giving birth was truly empowering. Beautiful. I would do it again a hundred million times.

It's something I didn't know I was capable of, even though the female body is designed to grow and nurture human life. No woman can really know until she has experienced it for herself.

Therein lies the momma club. A wealth of knowlege and understanding. The advice my mother received from her mother, and so on, and so on, will be passed down to my own child(ren?) when it is time. Same goes for the advice I have received from all the other mothers out there.

So, ladies? From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your support, your words, your photos and your truths. I am a better mother because of you.

And now, since I have a hard time publishing a post without photographically bragging about my son:

Would you look at those chubby feet and legs? He loves his ankle rattles.

And, that hand. Oh my goodness, that hand.

Not Me Monday

2010-01-04T20:25:00.000-08:00

I am (not) going to do my Not Me Monday in point form today because my brain is (not) fried. Please forgive. I am one step away from picking my teeth with my toenails.

- I did not drag the baby out into the cold simply because I needed to get out of the house.

- We did not go to Walmart.

- In fact...Walmart is NOT my favorite place to be lately.

- I do not purchase armloads of clothes my son doesn't need...(One day I will post photographs of his little clothing collection. Or, maybe not. Someone may have me committed...)

- Even though my son has 300 zillion outfits, I do NOT end up letting him wear just his diaper for most of the day because he loves to kick unencumbered.

- I did not purchase this sweater, and I don't expect my son to wear it the moment he is big enough.

- I do not pester my child with a camera so much that he is forced to make these faces at me:

- I didn't forget how old I am today and have to actually count backwards to find out whether I am 31 or 32.

- I did not find it distressing that I had to scoll through 31 years to find 1978 whilst filling out an online form earlier this evening. I most certainly did not feel like I should start using age defying moisturizer...pronto.

- I have not been sending snow again. Why would I do that? ;)

What have YOU not been up to?

We will never be, I am the moon...

2010-01-03T08:54:00.000-08:00

A photograph I took using settings I have since forgotten...

I have always survived on borrowed light. Alone, I am dark and cold...always waiting for my sun. My life moves in cycles and phases. Sometimes I am a sliver of myself. Sometimes I am shrouded by shadows, and sometimes I am so full I am radiant.

I was once part of a binary system. One sun in a constant state of supernova, caving in on herself...darker and darker. The other burned a waning blue, caught in the other's gravity, crumbling under all the heaviness. I reflected it all back at them...their light, and their darknesses. I became them.

A moon's revenge is never sweet. I was consumed by the sheer weight of my own anger and anguish...and fear.

For that, I am so very sorry.

And now, despite curses, ill-wishes, bleak loneliness and a beam of hatred that stretches across the universe...the moon has birthed a perfect sun.

A son.

He burns the brightest indigo. He is my greatest truth. He has stars in his eyes.

He is all I will ever need to be whole.

Eyes!

2010-01-01T22:29:00.000-08:00

I was playing around with my camera, and found an extremely bizarre setting that I will likely never remember how to use again.

These creepy eyes are a result:

My creepy eye...(I know I need to pluck...blech)

My mother's creepy eye...

I find these pictures oddly disturbing...lol. So disturbing, in fact, that I will be asking pretty much everyone I know to let me macro their eye. It's like my own personal horror show. And, now it's yours.

Enjoy. *shiver*

Wild Wednesday

2009-12-30T09:23:00.000-08:00

I am starting "Wild Wednesday" because Jude and I have been watching a lot of nature shows, and I find myself completely enthralled by some of the creatures out there. Jude is, too...in his way. He likes the colors and the sounds...watches for a bit, then turns to me and smiles, then watches again. Perhaps I am raising an animal enthusiast.

Today's installment belongs to the female Strawberry Poison Dart frog, because she is not only beautiful, but is also a very good mother (and I LOVE her blue legwarmers).

Watch and smile... :)

2009-12-28T07:55:00.000-08:00

Who has been slightly exploiting the fact that her son can say "mom" at 2 months old? Certainly not me. In fact, I do not tell anyone who will listen or brag a little bit about it either.

I have not singlehandedly eaten an entire container full of Christmas goodies, nor have I been known to sneak and smuggle even though there is no one around to catch me. Such a heinous act. Tut-tut.

I do not giggle when my son notices the television, and I do not think it's even funnier when he zones out while staring at it. I make sure to put a stop to his TV watching right away, and I definitely don't change it to Spongebob just for him. Uh-uh.

I do NOT allow my son to sleep in his Boppy pillow because he will not sleep in his crib. I do not have the Boppy pillow so rigged up that it is the perfect bed, and he does not sleep like a dream in it.

I am not even ashamed.

Nope...not me.

Stealth Poop and Momma Fail...

2009-12-23T19:16:00.000-08:00

Let me just start this post by saying that I am really a very good mother. My child is happy and healthy, very intelligent and well adjusted. He knows his needs will always be met...I am at his beck and call. 3am, and I have a bottle warming. He even looks like he is gonna poop and I am warming the wipes. Snuggles and songs and books and conversations are a constant thing. I dance like a fool for him (which seriously frightens the dog and various other people who catch sight of this ritual), I make up stupid songs for him, I love him so much my heart hurts...

But...

All mommies screw up sometimes, right?

8-/

Yesterday was a nice, calm day. Jude had been going through a growth spurt which made him cranky and hungry and just plain miserable, but yesterday? He was lovely. Didn't say boo...napped like a champ.

At suppertime, he sat with us in his baby chair and looked around happily. I jiggled the kitchen lamp so that he could watch the light patterns on the ceiling, he talked to himself and played with his toys.

After supper I fed him and he fussed a little. No big deal.

At around 9pm, I decided to change his diaper and put him down for the night, and what did I find?

Poop, that's what.

Poor little man had been wearing a poopy diaper for who the heck knows how long. I didn't smell it. I didn't see him scrunch up his face and turn red (pooping is usually a production). But, there was definitely poop. I apologized profusely as I rocked him to sleep and felt like a terrible mother.

Jude, thinking that his mother sucks.

But, today was the real momma fail.

Jude came to Walmart/grocery store with us for some last minute Christmas shopping. He loves his carseat, and usually sleeps the entire time we are out...including the transfers from car to cart, etc.

Well, we were out too long, I guess (epic fail #1) and he woke up hungry. I had decided to wait with Jude in the car instead of hauling him into yet another cart, so when he began crying, I jumped into action and grabbed the bottle we'd brought along just in case. Jude took a few long, hard and very relieved draws on the nipple and then let go and screamed louder! What the heck? Then I realized...the formula was cold (epic fail #2).

So, how do you warm a bottle in the car when the car is not running and you are wrangling a very angry, snowsuited infant? You shove it in your cleavage. And, when that doesn't work because your boobs are just not what they used to be, your armpit. Uh huh. I so did it, and it worked. I love it when success comes out of failure.

And while I am confessing...I have been known to help Jude to suck the thumb he very dearly wants to suck. He can get his hand there no problem, but he always forgets to stick out his thumb. So, I stick it out for him and he munches away.

Yes, I am an enabler.

Sue me.

*Siiiigh*

Babylegs!!

2009-12-22T18:42:00.001-08:00

I just couldn't wait, so Jude got a pair early...

Oh my. Something about encasing those little frog legs in baby legwarmers makes my heart sing.

2009-12-22T18:42:00.000-08:00

Flipper-pits...

2009-12-22T12:06:00.000-08:00

Aside from being a wonderful pseudo-swear word...("Awwww, Flipper-pits!")...it is also the part of a manatee's body from which its young feed. Apparently, they have nipples in their pits! What could be more awesome?

The Sarcastic Fringehead has been replaced for now. Manatees are now banging their pudding-noses on my funnybone, and have subsequently nestled deeply into my heart.

Someday, I will go to Florida to swim with them. I have no desire to swim with dolphins. Dolphins are like the popular kids. If they were people, they would be cheerleaders and floutists...flitting from place to place in giggling groups. Living out loud.

Manatees would play the tuba. They would be the overweight, funny looking, far-from-graceful bottom-feeders silently sitting at the lunch table closest to the canteen. Much more intriguing than those who live out loud. What is your secret? What are you into? Who are you, really?

To all the manatees out there, (human and not), I love you. :)

He's like the wind...

2009-12-18T15:56:00.000-08:00

Slices of Life (and Christmas is Coming!!)

2009-12-17T13:56:00.000-08:00

As I sit here, there is a chubby-cheeked baby on the bed beside me. He is talking to himself, flirting with everything he can see and trying to eat his fist. He is 8 weeks old now, which means:

1) Sleeping through the night almost every night.
2) He can now suck his thumb and put his own soother back into his mouth (mostly backwards).
3) His hair is starting to fall out, and what is coming in looks decidedly lighter.
4) He looks more like me.
5) His hands are stinky ALL the time because he is always putting them in his mouth (and I can't stop sniffing them because they smell lovely to me...)
6) He naps in his boppy pillow.

7) He can polish off 5 ounces of formula and still want more.
8) He flirts with EVERYTHING.
9) He says "mumumum" with intent, now...when he wakes up, or when someone else is holding him and he turns his body toward me, scrunching his face up, imploring me to take him back.
10) He is cuter and cuter every single day.

Oh, how I love this child.

The past few weeks we have been competing with Siberia in the "holy-shit-is-it-ever-cold" category. Then, last night the wind started coming from the south and it's gorgeous. I wandered outside at 1am and the temperature was climbing. It had snowed a little, but smelled like rain. The air was almost balmy and I could smell the trees stirring awake...as though surfacing momentarily from a long, deep sleep.

I did all of my Christmas shopping online this year, and I am really happy with what I bought. I did much better than I would have if I'd had to hit the stores with a baby in tow. I especially love my purchases for Jude.

I got 4 pairs of Babylegs:

Not only are these adorable, but they keep those chubby legs warm while making diaper changes easy as pie.

I also purchased the Twilight Turtle so that Jude always has stars. It makes a bedroom into a universe, and when the child is older can be used as a night light. :)

I went a little crazy buying onesies from Threadless.
(Ooooh, onesies. Be still my beating heart...)

So, whether he knows it or not, Jude is going to have a great first Christmas. Complete with several embarrassing Christmas outfits. ;)

Merry Christmas to all... :D

Gratuitous

2009-12-11T21:20:00.000-08:00

Riot Gear

2009-12-11T21:16:00.000-08:00

Wake up
Put on my riot gear
But in the study of my house
I've got a smoking jacket passed to me from Grand Daddy
It's made of bow and arrow meat

Do do do do do do
Do do do do do do

Come home
Take off my riot gear
Put on my smoke jacket
But in the library of my house I have a laugh
Medieval jokes are just as funny now
If you've got a degree

Heaven help the ones who know
What makes the world go slow

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock

The night comes
Time to go on the town
And in my best
Sashimi dress
And marble arch supporting shoes
I am a vision in my horse-drawn tank

Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da

Stay out
Drinking into the night
And they are saying those same things
And I'm like "Ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, hee"
'Til half-past three
And then it's time for me to go

Heaven help the ones who know
What makes the world go slow
What makes the world go slow

Come home
Take off my tuna dress
Put on my collard greens
And in my sleep
What dreams may come
Before I'm woken by alarms
Put on my riot gear

Regina Spektor

(I am really into this song right now...yum...)

Remember this?

2009-12-08T12:26:00.000-08:00

*swoon*

For the past 2 weeks, I have been re-watching this show during Jude's latenight feedings. I'll admit that I really got into it, and even thought about sneaking upstairs to watch more when Jude WASN'T eating a few times.

Seriously...who is more awesome than Dean Cain? And Teri Hatcher as Lois...bang on. The special effects leave a lot to be desired, but heck, it was 1995, and I spent just as much time giggling over what passed for a bolt of lightning back then as I did smiling over the incredibly sweet love story.

I will leave you with the age-old question:

...Clark Kent or Superman?

:)

Megaira

2009-12-07T20:02:00.000-08:00

Upon awakening,
she unfurled into a fury.
An owlish grudge against the sun
brought forth a pointed,
poison-tongued,
wild-winged frenzy.

Snarling, hissing snakes of hair
would not be calmed.
Only shrieks brought solace
to those infernal,
hungry mouths;
though fire-bellies smouldered still...
beneath the crimson carnage
of scorned flesh and scaly,
wind scorched
winter skin.

And soon, a gentle silence lost itself,
as a pitter patter (flutter-slither)
clattered visciously
in a sun-warmed kitchen...

as an unasked for morning
birthed an illegitimate afternoon.

~M.R

This is an elderly poem. I am putting it here simply to remind myself of where I was 4 years ago...the miserable shell of what was once a human being.

I vow to never find myself surrounded in that darkness again.

*The image above freaks me out. What in heaven's name happened to her...um...girl parts? *shiver*

2 in the bed and the little one said...

2009-12-07T12:18:00.001-08:00

Well...he doesn't say much, really.

The occasional accidental "mumumum"...and "hah-GOO!"...and lotsa "waaaaaaah"ing when he is tired but thinks he isn't. But, that is beside the point. This post is not about how much my 7 week old son talks...(even if he IS brilliant) (I mean, really) it is about co-sleeping, and our nocturnal goings-on.

This kid has had sleep issues since day 1. He is so alert that asking him to sleep would be like asking me to roll around in the snow with just a bathing suit on. Wait. I have done that. Bad example.

Put it this way: Sleep, to Jude, is R-I-D-I-C-U-L-O-U-S! And mommy is T-I-R-E-D. In the best of ways, mind you. Somehow I cannot be upset when naptime, for example, looks like this:

He cracks me up, my little dude. But, at 3am, it starts to get a little less funny, and a little more wearing.

Recently, bedtime has been a wrestling match between willful baby and exhausted mommy. I don't even have to tell you who wins. Baby is in his crib dozing by 10pm, awakens at 10:10, mommy obediently trots in to soothe, etc ( because I am not of the "let him cry it out" philosophy), baby dozes again, mommy sneaks out, baby awakens at 10:21, and so on and so on and so on.

And don't even get me started on the calamity that ensues when I try to sneak in to go to bed myself. ("Mumumum...waaaaaaaah...")

As a result of all this, about a week ago I started invouluntarily falling asleep mid-feeding and Jude realized that he REALLY (REALLY!) likes sleeping on my chest. A lot. More than in his lovely crib. Or his cradle. And then, in an effort to get some peaceful shut-eye, I began putting him to sleep on my chest purposely, and loved every second of having him so close...(a far cry from when he was first born and I was terrified to hold him at all, lest I hurt him)

Boy, did I feel guilty. What a terrible mother. I mean, cuddling my baby to sleep and then extending that cuddle all night? Diabolical! Lulling my son (and myself) into a 6 hour, restful snooze? Evil!

I felt so bad that I shamefully googled co-sleeping, and you know what?? A lot of people do the same thing in an effort to get some rest! In fact, some people do it just because they melt at the the feeling of a limp little bundle of sleepiness tucked against them. It is kangaroo care at its finest. There are even studies that suggest co-sleeping in any form promotes normal breathing patterns in infants, effectively reducing sleep apnea. Because, while co-sleeping, a baby and his/her mommy are in perfect sync...the baby imitates mommy's breathing patterns and his/her temperature is regulated by mommy's, provided the baby is in a sleeper without a blanket. So, yay!

The funny thing is....after a week of having my little fella wonderfully close at night, he has begun sleeping like a champ in his crib. No muss, no fuss.

So, that's that.

(and boy, do I miss him...)

About Time...

2009-12-05T13:18:00.001-08:00

Look what finally happened...

Yay!!

Animal Farm...

2009-12-04T15:09:00.001-08:00

We live in a George Orwell novel...

Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy.
Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend.
No animal shall wear clothes.
No animal shall sleep in a bed.
No animal shall drink alcohol.
No animal shall kill any other animal.
All animals are equal.

Around here, these commandments are broken repeatedly. The dog has more outfits than I do, and the animals clearly sleep in the beds. The cats hunt the denizens of the backyard (especially those with wings), and Squeaker (the elderly matriarch) beats on Rory (the youngish upstart) frequently.

The only thing they don't do is drink alcohol. But if we let them, they would.

Pretty soon they will be walking on two legs and morphing into creatures more like human beings.

If they decide to take over, we are royally screwed.

Oh boy...

2009-12-03T17:27:00.000-08:00

If this child ever decides to be bad, I will be helpless. Could you yell at him?

I know I couldn't.

Talking Colic

2009-11-29T10:37:00.000-08:00

Colic is one of those words that just doesn't look right when it is typed or written out, which is very fitting really...because let's face it. Colic just isn't right at all.

Take my son, for example.

The child has a beautiful disposition. He first smiled when he was 3 days old, and just hasn't stopped. If there is such thing as a happiness prodigy, Jude would be one.

His first 3 weeks could not have been better. Most of the day was spent napping...waking at intervals to eat, grin, play for a bit, etc. Perfectly normal, except...when he was awake, he was extremely alert. Too alert for someone his age. Overstimulation would occur after every waking period and he would require me to calm him down before he could sleep again. I thought nothing of it and simply enjoyed the low-key snuggles he needed as much as he did.

When he turned 3 weeks old, things started to change. At first, he stopped napping...and if he did go down for a nap, his arms would eventually flail and he'd startle himself awake. He was eating badly, too...screaming during feedings, wanting to cluster feed when he wasn't even hungry. All of this seemed to stem from a sudden inability to soothe himself. He'd attempt to soothe on my breast or the bottle, and would get angry because he'd get unwanted milk.

Then the night-time tantrums began.

At first, he'd begin screaming inconsolably at around 8pm and go until midnight before he'd exhaust himself enough to sleep for a few hours. After these episodes, he would wake up happy...eat like a champ, then pass out again. However, it got worse and worse...to the point where he had begun crying all day, and then until 2 or 2:30am. He was nearly impossible to calm. I walked and walked with him...bouncing him, patting his back, making soothing noises. If I was lucky, he'd fall into a fitful sleep for a few moments.

I was shell-shocked and sleepless...desperate to understand what was happening with him so I could help him. His extreme distress made me feel helpless...and like the worst mother to ever disgrace this universe. Was it my fault? Did he hate me? Did I hurt him when I picked him up? Did I scar him for life when I put him down?

Just when it was at its worst, and I was at my most desperate, I put him into a Snugli in an effort to get something (anything!) done. He fell asleep and stayed asleep. I was even able to transfer him to a cradle, where he slept a good 2 hour stretch.

It made all the difference in the world. The secret to my son's displeasure was sleep. Hands down. And once I knew that and could con him into naps, he started sleeping earlier and earlier at night. He only cries when hungry or wet, and even then very fleetingly. But if, for some reason, his routine gets too broken...watch out.

A child Jude's age NEEDS sleep, or he or she will become so overstimulated that screeching for hours is the only outlet they have. It's not like they can go hide in a quiet room and read a book...or punch something...or go for a run to let off steam. So it builds and builds until it is impossible to contain.

I am lucky. Most people never figure out how to deal with their child's colic, and end up spending 3 to 6 months battening down the hatches at 6pm...just trying to survive.

For anyone who happens across this post because they are losing their minds and looking for something (anything!!!) to help them, I am going to link a few sites I found useful. And, if you want to share your story, please do.

Colic and Sleep
Fussy Baby.ca

The story so far...

2009-11-28T17:00:00.000-08:00

More Mads

2009-11-25T17:28:00.000-08:00

Wordless Wednesday

2009-11-25T12:07:00.000-08:00

Ow...

2009-11-24T11:31:00.000-08:00

Fact Fiction-- (Mads Langer)

Imagine a world without me - say you're falling apart
Let's pretend you've missed me for a while
Wouldn't you say you were lonely and love was breaking your heart?
Put on your Sunday best and fake a smile

I dream of dreaming dreams of her - in twilight she's a constant blur
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction

Remember the night you were with me - fell asleep by my side
Strangers together - your hand in mind
How come we never came closer when all the stars were aligned?
I thought we had a moment

I dream of dreaming dreams of her - in twilight she's a constant blur
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction
I seem to miss the missing part, she's still my favorite work of art
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction

Nothing has changed cause I'm still fact - she's fiction
Or I may be imperfectly formed in this contradiction

I dream of dreaming dreams of her - in twilight she's a constant blur
The picture is clear cause I'm still fact she's fiction

I fell in love with her longing - let's just say that she never found out
Who it was she never found in me

Just about sums it up...

2009-11-20T18:57:00.000-08:00

Have you anything to say in your defense?

by Cesar Vallejo

Well, on the day I was born,
God was sick.

They all know that I'm alive,
that I'm vicious; and they don't know
the December that follows from that January.
Well, on the day I was born,
God was sick.

There is an empty place
in my metaphysical shape
that no one can reach:
a cloister of silence
that spoke with the fire of its voice muffled.

On the day I was born,
God was sick.

Brother, listen to me, Listen...
Oh, all right. Don't worry, I won't leave
without taking my Decembers along,
without leaving my Januaries behind.
Well, on the day I was born,
God was sick.

They all know that I'm alive,
that I chew my food...and they don't know
why harsh winds whistle in my poems,
the narrow uneasiness of a coffin,
winds untangled from the Sphinx
who holds the desert for routine questioning.

Yes, they all know...Well, they don't know
that the light gets skinny
and the darkness gets bloated...
and they don't know that the Mystery joins things together...
that he is the hunchback
musical and sad who stands a little way off and foretells
the dazzling progression from the limits to the Limits.

On the day I was born,
God was sick,
gravely.

The Sarcastic Fringehead...

2009-11-19T19:07:00.000-08:00

In my next life, I would like to be one of these guys.

I find them almost as funny as I find hippos...(and, I rarely laugh as hard as I did the time I watched a documentary featuring hippos) Sarcastic Fringehead! Best name ever.

A description:

The sarcastic fringehead - Neoclinus blanchardi - can be found in the waters of the Pacific Coast from San Francisco down to Baja California. Though the Fringehead is a small fish, rarely reaching a foot in length, they are known to be quite aggressive, even swimming after divers. Their native habitat is empty shells and small caves or burrows - though they are often observed living quite comfortably in discarded beer bottles and soda cans. Milton Love, noted fish biologist and author of "Probably More Than You Wanted to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast" has this to say about the fringehead:"Sarcastic fringeheads are occasionally taken by both sport and commercial fishermen, and when this happens, no one is completely comfortable. The fish tend to be cranky and the fishermen tend to be nervous. I have seen very rugged commercial fishermen, men who laugh in the face of danger, doing fairly amusing little dances while a 6-inch-long fish clamp sharp teeth around their thumbs."

and this one:

These fish are found along open coastlines on sand or hard mud bottoms , outside the breaker zone in depths of 3-73 m (10-240 ft ). They live in various kinds of shelters , such as empty clam or snail shells , abandoned burrows, and cracks in clay or rock outcroppings. They also find human trash such as cans and bottles satisfactory as a home worth protecting. Whatever the shelter used, a sarcastic fringehead claims it as its home territory, fiercely defending it against intruders. The larger the container , the larger the fringehead occupying it.

These fish give a whole new meaning to coveting someone elses stuff. Imagine if that was our way of dealing with the real estate market. You like someone else's house, so you just...take it. Sarcastically. With a really grumpy look on your face.

I could get into that.

Hope you are as amused by these guys as I am. They even have their very own poetry cave. ;)

Sarcastic Fringehead Poetry Cave

A milestone and a mystery...

2009-11-19T11:34:00.001-08:00

4 weeks ago yesterday, I gave birth to a slippery, wiggly, gnome-like creature...

And, he is SUCH...

a baby... :)

I can't say I am going to miss these newborn meltdowns, but...is it wrong that I think his cryface is adorable? He looks kinda like a Klingon. Except...cuter.

My little Klingon is growing so fast, and I have to admit that I am having mixed feelings about it. I mean, I brought this little boy home:

And he has been replaced by this one:

How did THAT happen???

Happy 4 weeks, little man. Sure do love you.

The La Leche League can kiss my...ummm...nipple.

2009-11-15T10:44:00.000-08:00

Like all new mothers, I want to do what is best for my baby. We listen to classical music together (while I whisper sweet nothings into his ear about maybe someday playing the cello). We dance together and he falls asleep in my arms. We "kangaroo cuddle", I sing to him, I read to him...recite poetry...play with him with educational toys.

He is thriving. It is beautiful to find a roll of chub that wasn't there before. I kiss his knee-rolls and his frog belly...nuzzle his chubby cheeks and nibble his toes. He can already self-soothe, lift his head for fairly long periods of time. Sometimes he stares at me from across the room, and then grins at me when he sees me coming. He sleeps 5 or 6 hour stretches a night and wakes up perfectly happy...wearing a diaper that would even frighten a dung beetle. His hand to eye coordination is already ridiculous.

I know nothing of newborn narcolepsy. My kid was born 3 months old, and aside from the fact that he occasionally cries inconsolably as though it is the end of the world, this motherhood gig has been the easiest and most instinctive thing I have ever done.

Except for one thing. And, at this one thing, we are both utter failures.

Breastfeeding.

*shudder*

When he was born, they asked me if I wanted them to put him on my chest. I, of course, wanted nothing more. 9 months is a long time to wait to meet the greatest love of your life, and the moment had finally arrived. There he was...all covered in goop. So perfect, so beautiful, so...hungry. They asked me if I wanted to nurse him a bit, so I first put him to my breast when he was mere moments old. He wasn't a natural, and it took a bit of work that evening to get him to understand that my breast was a food source...the BEST possible food source. But, he eventually latched (a perfect latch, I might add), and all was well...for a few hours.

He soon discovered that I did not yet have any milk.

See...nature plays a few cruel jokes on mothers. Early breastfeeding is the cruelest of all. Crueler even than the fact that a baby's head is very rarely birthable without tearing, even though women have been birthing babies since there have been women. Crueler than the fact that after you have been torn to shreds and can barely walk, your baby needs you. Badly. More than he ever will in the future. Those first few days are prime bonding time, and when you cannot even get out of bed, well...*flips Mother nature the bird*

But the worst is having a ravenous baby and having only a few beads of colostrum to feed him. You feel like a failure. Your baby is STARVING...for the love of GOD you can think of nothing but feeding your baby. The hungrier he gets, the more he cries. Then he becomes furious. You keep offering the breast, because what else can you do? He sucks until his cheeks cave in and gets only a couple of drops, while the formula fed baby in the next room sleeps contentedly.

Then, if you are really unlucky, your baby will develop jaundice. You are told that your baby needs liquid to flush the jaundice out, but are encouraged to continue breast(starving).
Now, I am well aware of the fact that breast milk is the very best thing your baby could possibly eat, but when your baby's eyes turn yellow, the last thing you want to do is watch them go more and more yellow as you fight through nursing...errr...starving a very ticked off baby.

I gave my baby a bottle because his agonized crying made me cry. He gulped that bottle down in less than a minute and I felt relief for the first time in days. I had done my job. My baby was fed and happy.

But...

Breastfeeding started to wane. He was more and more frustrated by the breast and its slow delivery. I had taught him instant gratification and he didn't want to go back to struggling for every stinkin' drop.

We lasted until the evening we got home from the hospital, and then there was a frantic formula run. I told myself that he would only eat formula until my milk came in fully. I figured that since my boy wanted instant gratification, I would pump...increase my milk supply until it flowed fast enough for his liking. I was told this was an impossible dream...that he would be on the bottle forever and ever AMEN...but I kept pumping. Eventually, I was pumping enough milk to feed him bottled breast milk all day long. No more formula, no more guilt.

The boob? It seemed to go the way of the Tasman booby. He would not take it, no way, no how. This went on until his one week birthday. We were visited by a public health nurse who told me to try again.

I scoffed, chuckled, rolled my eyes. I told her there was NO WAY. My son? He hates boob. Loathes it. And then I pulled out my breast and offered it to my son.

He latched. And ate a full feed.

*bangingheadondesk*

So we breastfed, and it was wonderful. My baby was eating the way nature intended. Not only was he getting the most perfect nourishment possible, we were skin to skin...bonding in ways that are impossible otherwise. He began grasping my finger as he fed...grabbing handfuls of my hair...gazing lovingly into my eyes...

And then I began to make too much milk.

You would think that is a good thing, but it is actually worlds of badness.

My baby...my darling, sweet child...turned into the devil. He screamed through feedings, sounded like a drowning piglet while he ate, and the spit-up...OH MY GAWD the spit-up. It was unreal. He developed infant reflux and started to become colicky. He needed nose drops because he kept on vomiting through his nose and the dried vomit was clogging his sinuses and affecting his breathing. In order to sleep, he needed to be on a 30 degree incline so he would not overflow...

So, I have admitted defeat for now. He is officially a bottle-fed baby. Breast milk at night, and formula during the day until I can get my milk supply back up and it can be all breast milk, all the time. (It had gotten to the point where he and I were both crying during feedings, and my milk was drying up due to stress).

This decision comes with a lot of guilt, though.

In the hospital, there were posters all over my room about breastfeeding. The nurses barely talked of anything else. "How is he doing with breastfeeding??" they would ask, even though they should have been asking themselves if he was maybe just a little bit TOO yellow. I was made to feel awful for even considering giving my son formula while in the hospital and the public health nurse gave me stink eye when I told her about our initial foray into bottle-feeding and urged me to try again.

I feel like I must justify myself when even the formula container says:

(Don't even get me started on how ticked off the discovery of the little ditty above caused me to be. Why the guilt? WE KNOW!!!!)

Thankfully, motherhood is entirely instinctive. And, as instinctive as it is to put your baby to the breast, it is also instinctive to stop putting your baby to the breast if it is causing harm.

I will keep telling myself that while I enjoy my happy, healthy, vomit-free baby.

(A couple of links for anyone who wants to read some of the propaganda... ;)

La Leche League

Breastfeeding Committee for Canada

Delightful...

2009-11-07T16:50:00.000-08:00

swoon

2009-11-07T14:03:00.000-08:00

This charmed the heck out of me today.I liked Meryl Streep before this...thought she was an amazing actress. But now? Now, I think she is brilliant. :)