baby daddy

My adorable husband, circa 1971. No wonder our kids are so cute.

books (HP spoilers ahead)

D*U*C*K - I started reading Poppy Brite when I was 15 and she was writing about vampires and ghosts. I’m so pleased that her writing has grown up right along with me. All of her books about Ricky and G-man are so fun to read and I’m a foodie so they work on more than one level for me.

The Sharing Knife: Legacy – More good Lois McMaster Bujold. I felt like the fantasy parts of these books were tangential. They’re really about identity and family.

After Dark – Probably the most boring and uninspired Murakami I’ve read. Bummer.

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows – A fitting end to the series. I thought it might be more brutal but was happy with how everything turned out. Loved her Dumbledore/Snape character development. Dumbledore turned out to be one Machiavellian motherfucker. And Snape! I still don’t consider him “good”. I think he was a bad guy, who hated Harry for no good reason and who served an evil master a little too well. But of course, his love of Lily redeems him enough to make him a really complicated, wonderful character. None of his actions were motivated out of moral outrage with Voldemort — it was ALL revenge for Lily’s death. I really loved the message she’s sending to children about the complications of adulthood and authority.

robots can’t love.

Toot is terrified of many things these days. High on her list are men and robots. I chalk the man thing up to her being two and having stranger anxiety. The fear of robots can be traced directly to an episode of Spongebob Squarepants called “Krab Borg” wherein Spongebob watches a scary movie about robots, becomes paranoid and convinces Squidward that Mr. Krabs has been replaced by “Robot Krabs”. They perform a series of tests (laugh, cry, love) to determine whether Mr. Krabs is human. Er, crustacean. He fails. Hilarity ensues.

Robots are the big bad of Toot’s world right now. She talks about them constantly.

“Krabs Robot can’t love, mommy”, Toot says. Krabs Robot may not be able too – but I can and I can cry from laughing so hard.

identity management : part one

The title of this post is both a shout out to my road warrior husband and an actual topic I’ve been thinking about. A friend came over last night and confessed, over coffee (wait, neither of us were drinking coffee – make that “over water”) that he and his lovely partner are considering whether or not to have children. This led to a lengthy session of my husband and I waxing poetic over the joys of parenthood and children. Followed by a serious discussion of how parents and especially mothers, negotiate their identities in the aftermath of pregnancy and childbirth.

I’ve been told by more than a few (childless) people that I am a “cool” mom. This is not a judgement about my relationship with my kids (in that area I strive to be decidedly uncool) but an observation based on my interactions with other adults. Everyone who makes this comment has a story about friends who used to be intelligent, interesting human beings with active social lives but following childbirth became drooling, poorly groomed cretins whose only intelligible utterances are “Poo-poo! Pee-pee!” Apparently, (no pun intended) the fact that I am not so reduced by motherhood is a feat to be proud of.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. On one hand, those without children sometimes seem unfairly harsh in their judgement of us “breeders”. On the other, I think that those new to parenthood are often surprised and put off-kilter by the depth and intensity of feeling they have for their newborn. They can’t imagine why everyone else doesn’t share their enthusiasm. It’s easy to see how that could get annoying but I think that it’s completely understandable for a time.

more later: in which I discuss why SAHM’s are specially vulnerable to identity mismanagement.

shopping diet

I made it through Somerset without trouble but got caught by 20$ shoes in Birmingham. 13 days. Pathetic.

i can has milkie?

I realized that I don’t often post about my son. He is the littlest and the quietest (currently) so naturally, I have less material on him but this doesn’t mean the poor lad should be neglected so egregiously in my blogging. Here he is wearing some kitty ears and allowing himself to be photographed, good natured kid that he is:

Originally uploaded by coruskate

The Boy, or “Mr. Baby” as I often call him, is not yet 8 months old and has spent the last 2 weeks pulling himself up to stand on every object large enough to support his weight. He crawls commando-style and pushes up on his hands and knees frequently. He can sit without support but shows no interest in remaining in one place long enough to do so. He may be walking by 9 months. Woo?

I’ve been thinking lately about how different it will be to raise a son. I mean, I know all about girls. I get how female friendships work. I am both girlie and athletic, good at doing hair, nails, climbing trees and showing the correct method for cartwheels or how to select items of clothing that go (not match). However, I know little to nothing about Power Rangers, Spiderman minutiae or Underdog – though I can throw a knife so maybe I’m doing better than I thought. I guess the “father/son” dynamic becomes instrumental in teaching boys how to relate to other guys.

An immediate (and utterly trivial) concern of mine is how to dress the Boy without making him look like one of these guys. It seems like there aren’t a lot of options in little boy clothing unless you’re comfortable with your kid looking like a Lil’ Soldier, Lil’ QB, Lil’ Lumberjack or Lil’ Bro. Mostly I end up going the dinosaur route. Lil’ Science Nerd is a type I’m marginally more comfortable with. It doesn’t help that I’m allergic to t-shirts with sayings on them. I mean, I flirted with the idea of getting the Boy this hat when he was a newborn but I never actually pulled the trigger! Shit like this and this makes me itchy. Maybe I’m over-thinking? Will everything he wears as a toddler onward be so covered with dirt that it won’t even matter?

shopping diet day 10

My shopping diet is going well. Especially for me. But I’m being severely tested by a 50-75% off sale at my favorite jeans store and my desire to buy my 3rd wedding anniversary art a little early.

“unhinges my soul..”

I hate the Disney Channel.

I become almost apoplectic just *thinking* about Hannah Montana and The Suite Life of Zack and Cody.

Do we really deserve to be subjected to Billy Ray Cyrus and his spawn? During the “Achey Breaky Heart” phenomena of the mid-Nineties my only consolation was the knowledge that after this brief spasm of fame, BRC would sink back into the protean-pop ooze never to be heard from again. Yet here we are ten years later and he’s back in the public eye again and this time, he’s brought along his horribly untalented daughter, Miley.

I save most of my bile for the abomination that is “The Suite Life of Zack and Cody”. Little shits, Zack and Cody, live in a hotel with their largely absent single mother. Don’t look for any of the sweetness and melancholy of such an arrangement, a la Eloise, here. The twins, one brainy and “good”, the other fat, stupid and bad, spend every episode in some pat, smugly insipid misadventure. They’re aided in their banality by female stereotypes “London” (the rich Asian bitch) and “Maddie” (sweet and humble Aryan princess). I think that sums it up and honestly, I’m feeling a little nauseous having spent this much time writing about it.

My 9 year old has Disney’s sniper rifle laser sight right in the middle of her sweet little forehead but I didn’t make it this far without having her succumb to princess-itis to give up now. Is it too early to begin her training in snark?

books

I got The Yiddish Policeman’s Union as a birthday present (at my request) and I couldn’t get into it. I’m horribly embarrassed to admit that while the finest efforts of a Pulitzer prize winning author failed to entertain me I totally loved the 5th book in Jacqueline Carrey’s Kushiel series (for the uninitiated, a sacred prostitute who is also a spy has adventures in medieval Terre D’Ange, an alternate universe France where everyone is descended from angels and the peasants have never heard of the guillotine).

I like my fantasy with a side of fantasy so after Kushiel’s Justice I read The Priveledge of the Sword which just won a Locus Award for Best Fantasy Novel. I felt that the story was a bit sluggish in the beginning but by page 150 I was well hooked.

Next on the list? After Dark (Even short articles by Murakami are interesting.) and Spook Country.

Quelle surprise!

Mon frère m’a acheté cette belle écharpe de Hermes à Paris. That’s right – Hermes scarf! Woo!

Here I am wearing it on my head though you can use it in about a bazillion ways. I think it may also qualify as a Hitchhiker’s style towel. Froody.