Introspective Navel Gazing

Why have kids?

2010-07-07T12:54:00.005-05:00

Man. I'm turning into a parenting blog. I'm sorry about that. But I suppose that when I saw the title: Why Have Kids? on the Vanity Fair website, I had to take a look and write a reaction.

What? It's like baiting me with race issues. Personal is political at times folks.

Anyways, the website linked me to an article from New York Magazine that described parents loving their children, but hating parenting. Titled, All Joy and No Fun, I could see it almost being used as an argument against procreating.

But I keep going back to the question, "Why have kids?" and I can't give a good answer. Because I have no idea how to articulate it. The only thing I've said is that, "I like chaos," and I got it in fucking spades when I had a baby. Now that she's a toddler, I'm tempted to give it a go again, because I like more chaos.

What bothers me about these articles (and articles that go POP THEM PUPPIES OUT NOW CHILDLESS SPINSTERS!) is that there's an implicit idea that doing one or the other brings you more happiness. And from what I've seen, happiness is a very temporal thing.

To quote Denis Leary: "Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette butt, or a chocolate chip cookie or a five second orgasm. You come, you smoke the butt you eat the cookie you go to sleep wake up and go back to fucking work the next morning, THAT'S IT! End of fucking list!"

I can't say that I'm a happier person after having Benevolent Dictator and staying home. That would imply that I'm skating around the kitchen like some Betty Draper clone on Zoloft. I can't say I'm unhappier either, because I don't think I am. The beginning battles were hard as hell, but I'm also of the belief that if you do anything right in life, some scarring occurs.

What I can say is that I feel like overall, I made the right decision for me and that I regret nothing. I know people who don't want kids and don't have kids who will say the same thing. To each their own.

These articles bother me in a way because it sets up the idea that there is a race, or a way to maximize your happiness quotient like in the Sims, or that there's one path to happiness. And we all know that's not true. I just sometimes wish media would treat these issues with the complexity they deserve, instead of making it an "either/or" situation.

Monthly report: 36th Month -- Where does the time go?

2010-06-21T13:30:00.003-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

Today you turned three years old. It's been a funny day for me because I keep flashing back to when you arrived in the hospital, small enough to be carried on my forearm with long toes and ears that looked vaguely elvish. I remember your little mewling cry and just how small you were.

And now, you're a little girl -- an outgoing, chatty, smart, charming little girl who loves to draw, climb on things that she's not supposed to be climbing on, playing with her friends and the neighborhood dogs. You've got one hell of an imagination, telling me stories about when you were a little horsie.

Your current favorite show is Mythbusters. You told me once that you had Grant Imahara sleep over (apparently he was also shrunk down to about fist size) and we've had dance parties with Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman. You also love watching Sesame Street, Ni Hao Kai Lan and Wallace and Gromit. This summer, you did tell us you hate the World Cup and would rather watch Mythbusters. However, you know how to pronounced "vuvuzela." My job at mother is complete.

The funny thing is that I saw all this in you when you were a baby. You'd make eye contact with people and smile at a very young age and you always liked checking out people's faces. I've seen the hot temper in you (even though it gets louder now and a little more extreme with the flailing) and how you calm down.

Parenting is a weird thing sometimes. It's tough and sometimes tiring as hell. I've ranted about how it feels like sometimes I'm just so tired of having to play cruise director, jailer, friend, chef and maid.

But then there's these moments that take my breath away. Like when you do pronounce "vuvuzela" or when you giggle hysterically because we're having fun. Then there was the time when you hugged me and said "You're my best friend in the whole wide world."

I never expected that one. I'm a parent. We're not friends. Parents are supposed to be the enemy. But seriously, that was proof positive that whatever I did growing up, I must've done something good.

Love you,

Momma

Rising again...

2010-06-12T18:39:00.001-05:00

To show off yet another redesign idea. I hope people like this one. I'm finding Blogger's new design system to be quite nice. Don't be surprised if you see more more changes in the near future.

The State of the Viv

2010-05-18T20:05:00.004-05:00

Well. I can't believe I haven't written anything for nearly a month. Sorry about that. I have no excuses except that there's been other trifles in my life. And now, today is my birthday. I am the oldest I've ever been.

I'll confess that the past month has been a little rough on our house. Jeff's going through a job crisis and I've been presented with a lot of interesting opportunities for the future. One of them is freelancing for my old workplace, covering some of my old beat (but thankfully not everything. I don't I miss the insane hours) and another one I'll feel more comfortable discussing in the future.

When I look at the past year, I see that I've been busy doing one thing -- keeping the kid alive. The house hasn't burned down and I've been able to wrangle taking care of a child. I've been cooking more, which is great fun, writing more, which is FUCKING FABULOUS and enjoying life.

Then this past month happened and a lot of things I once knew are being shaken to the foundations. I don't feel comfortable going into all the detail. All I know is that I'll weather the storm and what happens, happens. We will survive and endure.

If anything, right now I'm thinking about the Tower Card from the Tarot deck:

No card scares a Tarot reader like the Tower - or the person they're reading for if that person knows anything about Tarot cards. It is however one of the clearest cards when it comes to meaning. False structures, false institutions, false beliefs are going to come tumbling down, suddenly, violently and all at once. What's important to remember as a tarot reader is that the one you're reading for likely does not know that something is false. Not yet. To the contrary, they probably believe that their lover is being faithful, that their religious beliefs are true and right, that there are no problems in their family structure, that everything is fine at work...oh, and that they're fine. Just fine, really.
Alas, they're about to get a very rude awakening. Shaken up, torn down, blown asunder. And all a reader can really do to soften the blow is assure the Querent that it is for the best. Nothing built on a lie, on falsehoods, can remain standing for long. Better to tear it all down and rebuild on the truth. It is not going to be pleasant or painless or easy, but it will be for the best.

Admittedly, in moments like this, I'm going back to thinking about Tyler Durden and Fight Club. Even though he wasn't completely correct about everything, I know I'm going through a chaotic period when I'm thinking, "What would Tyler Durden do?"

Fall back. Let go. Flow. Rise. Destroy. Recreate. That's what he'd do.

And right now with what is going on, that's what I'm feeling right now. I know it's the right thing to do, but it's also kind of scary.

But, as my kid says, "It's kind of scary, but also fun." Truer words never spoken kiddo.

Dear Gen Con: This is not ironic. This is stupid.

2010-04-24T21:01:00.004-05:00

Many of my friends and fellow gamers have railed on about the icon that Gen Con uses for it's non-gamer programming -- specifically called "Activities for the Better Half". I'll probably mention them at the end of this, but I wanted to get my view out on the stupidity of its icon:

What's more annoying is Gen Con's official response to Vanir's open letter to them:

Thank you all for your opinions and for calling attention to a wonderful program that Gen Con is proud to support. The process for picking the icon was not an arbitrary one; thought was put into it. It’s hard to pick one “icon” for such a diverse group of people and event types and to find one that wouldn’t be misconstrued as something else. The icon was chosen for its tongue and cheek aspect, nothing more and will remain as is for the time being.

I'd recommend that you also go and read the official letter on Vanir's website. To say that it makes one stabby would be an understatement.

I know that this isn't 10 years ago, or even 15 years ago, when having women at the gaming table was akin to a yeti sighting. I know that we see more women at these events and even young girls at these events. But to use an icon like a ball and chain is demeaning to the non-gamers who come to these events.

I won't go into the history of the ball and chain symbol, like my friend, Katie. I'm just amazed that Gen Con would call this tongue-in-cheek. Whoever thought this was a good idea has not had to sit at gaming tables and feel like they're entering a "boys club" of sorts. Or see the constant pin-up pictures. Or the shirts that make jokes about women (I won't even go into the one man's shirt that was a print of porno actresses making the "O"-face).

It's gotten better, there's no doubt, but things like this continue to give the impression that women aren't welcome.While it's nice that Gen Con has created events for the "better half" -- several of which I would consider attending as a break from dice-slinging (and are going to attend with my husband), the icon is silly.

It's not ironic. It is a blatant dig at nongamers as killjoys. I have always railed on about the stereotype of women as supposedly more "mature" and being the ones who have to rein in the "boys" from their "silly antics." Simply because someone's interests don't always mirror their partner's or family members' does not make their opinion less valid.

Overall, I agree with my friend Alan, who calls it "bad business branding." I would be careful about that Gen Con -- studies (which these Public Relations people should have learned by now) show that women are the majority of buyers in a household -- up to 83 percent in 2008, according to Lisa Witter and Lisa Chen. Do you really think that changes when they come to Indianapolis?

Just something to think about. If you're not willing to take into consideration the opinion of many women gamers like my friend, Eva, at least think about it from the business end. We women have a strong say in where the money goes, and I don't think it's a good idea to forget that.

Some date nights are dinner and movies...

2010-04-10T09:44:00.002-05:00

For Jeff and I, we went to see an aging punk icon rant on a state for three straight hours.

Thanks to our friend Heather (who is also the kid's favorite person in the whole wide world), Jeff and I were able to leave the house to check out Henry Rollins at the Barrymore last night. The kid got pizza, the Muppet Show and a buddy to play with. We got the Weary Traveler (Bad Breath Burger is full of WIN!), beer, discussion about Age of Conan and Rollins.

I love Henry Rollins. The man is a smart, funny, articulate person who, despite his appearance is a hippie at heart. I've always been fond of his spoken word CDs (I own a great deal of them and they're great for long drives). The guy I had one of those "it's complicated" things with before I met Jeff introduced me to Rollins and I think that was the best thing I got out of that mess.

In any case, it was awesome and inspiring. I can't talk about everything he discussed because it bounced from Constance McMillen, the 2008 election, health care, the Bad Brains, masturbation (despite a coy attempt to beat around the bush), working on Sons of Anarchy, his University of California Sonoma commencement address, judging Ru Paul's Drag Race and traveling around the world.

I think that for me, the biggest thing I always take away from these events is a sense of optimism and hope, albeit rather foul-mouthed, punk sense of hope, but it's hope. It's the idea that life should be gone at full gusto and we need to enjoy these moments. We have chances to be good people and do things right. Being a cynical bastard does nothing good. And sometimes we all need reminders of that.

If you do get the chance to see him, I suggest you do so. Make sure you have an empty bladder and are prepared to sit for hours, because you will get your money's worth.

How I became obsessed with Jaffa Cakes

2010-04-08T14:20:00.003-05:00

A few months ago, I was introduced to the joys of a BBC show called Spaced. Made by the same geniuses who created Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead, I found myself addicted to the show.

The best way I can describe it is that it tweaks a lot of the pop culture stuff I also riff on and brilliantly describes that time after college, but before the mortgage and kids. That time when I remember playing a lot of games, throwing a lot of random parties and just doing whatever I liked with the money we had.

It also helps that the music is awesome. I can't stop playing Mint Royale's From Rusholme with Love:

Or Lemon Jelly's The Staunton Lick:

But the best thing ever (WHICH I HAVE YET TO GET PROPERLY) is the A-Team dance remix:

I find it interesting that Simon Pegg has said definitely that there will never be another season of Spaced (it only ran for two seasons and 14 episodes total). I can't find the interview, but I recall him saying something on Twitter along the lines of "who would want to see 40-year-old Tim and Daisy doing the same thing over and over again?"

So like everyone else, I'm slowly moving on. A friend of mine has introduced me to a show called Outnumbered. And I think that this one may sum up the joys of life with kids and a mortgage:

I can picture myself having this conversation with my child in about a year or so.

But no matter what, I'm going to have a fond spot in my heart for Spaced. And Jaffa Cakes.

And a fun time was had by all....

2010-03-30T09:20:00.003-05:00

Last week, I attempted something for the first time: I, along with my mother, grandmother and Benevolent Dictator, drove to see my sister in upstate New York. I was admittedly nervous since the trip would be about 14-hours in the car. I'll also be honest too in that my relationship with my mom can be volatile and the thought of being enclosed in a car with her for the majority of a day raised fantasies of me throwing myself out of the car and onto the freeway.

But the trip was great overall. The only rough portion was the drive home, and if that's the only thing that was a bummer, I'd call the trip an overall success.

It was great bonding time with my sister, which I think we both needed. Also, I spent most of my time whinging rocks at Canadian geese threatening to overtake her backyard pond. For animal lovers -- I was not aiming to hit them or hurt them (despite threats of turning them into foie gras) -- but to scare them off. Because if you don't know already, Canadian geese are assholes.

It was like I turned into a border collie -- every morning and afternoon I'd look out the window, searching for those damn hissing bastards. When I saw them, BAM! out the door, like a shot stalking over to the pond with a handful of rocks to hurl at them. Sadly, by the third day, the geese were onto us and refused to leave.

I personally like the idea of a scarecrow in the middle of the pond that would pop up via remote control to scare them. And we'd dress the scarecrow up like Lady Gaga in the Telephone video. I need to make that work somehow.

As for the kids, they had a great time together. BD had way too much fun wandering around the house playing with toys and Maddie and Elliott enjoyed all the attention lavished on them. Mali -- the youngest of the clan -- has a nasty reach, which is great for pulling your hair out by the roots and ripping glasses off your face.

I also got to enjoy the joys of pho for the first time. Asian noodle soups are the best, in my opinion. I'm also pleased that my knowledge of Sondheim got one bar trivia question correct. Also, at said bar trivia event, I met one of my sister's friends, who is a lovely woman.

All in all, it was a great trip. I'm pleased that it was fairly inexpensive overall (seriously, the cost for gas, etc was cheaper than plane tickets) and I'm glad that BD was a great sport about staying in the car for such a long time. Hopefully I can convince Jeff to repeat the experience with us, thus reducing the chances of me hurling myself out of the car.

blows dust off the blog

2010-02-20T22:30:00.003-06:00

Hello all five readers! I'm still writing my little insane project, but I have some grand news. I have broken 50,000 words. In other words, I have pulled off NaNoWriMo in January, as opposed to November.

It's a very strange feeling to reach that goal (and I'm not done yet). Looking at all the other scribbles that I've done, nothing has reached this level. And I need to do more, which requires more research into crime, the Victorian underworld, smuggling and perhaps affairs of the human heart. And maybe research into a good jelly roll recipe. I'm not sure how everything will be incorporated, but the jelly roll should be pretty damn awesome.

In any case, my present to myself will be a bowler hat for reaching 50k words. If I hit 100,000 words, I'm getting myself an editor.

I just wanted to report that I'm not dead, the blog isn't dead. I'm just lost in a world of my own creation.

Writing neurosis

2010-02-02T11:58:00.002-06:00

For the past month or so, I've been working on a little story inspired by Sherlock Holmes. It's the first time that I can recall where I haven't given up after the 20th page and wandered off to do something else like make sure my kid isn't setting stuff on fire.

If you want to see it, it's over at my LJ. Yes, I have a livejournal account. Which I used to leave comments on other people's journals. Now it's being used for literary fanfic. I haven't put it here because I feel like that's separate from my little rants about my life.

Now I have a conundrum. I am very proud of this work (Hell, at 57 pages so far written, and more to go, I feel like I deserve a cookie). I also feel like maybe, just maybe, it could be published. Friends are saying it's good. Do I keep putting it on the livejournal for free then? If I got paid that would be awesome. If it was on paper so I could love it and give it to others like how crazy evangelicals hand out pamphlets, that would be awesome.

But is it wise to publish everything on the LJ? Even if it's in rough draft form? How does one get published? I think that part of me is torn -- I like this and I'm very happy to write it just for my amusement, but I believe it could be more than just a livejournal entry. But if the whole story is published online, why would a publisher print it? Would they even take a look at it online?

I need advice, and if people are willing to offer their thoughts, that would be great. Right now I'm not sure what to do and I feel like I've just put myself into something that could be good or it could be a disaster.

And this is on top of my usual writer neurosis. And they wonder why Updike hid from the world -- some days that looks like a tempting option for me. Then the narcissist exhibitionist takes over and I write some more. So yes, advice is welcome. I could use some, since I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

Temporary blackout

2010-01-27T22:57:00.002-06:00

PEOPLE OF EARTH (said in the style of Kronos, King of the Monkey People -- Google it):

There is a temporary blackout on this blog. The writer has become obsessed with a story idea and needs to beat it out of her head. When she eventually drops the idea, then she will probably return to this.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.

Monthy report: 30th month -- ATTACK OF THE BABY PENGUINS!

2010-01-11T13:48:00.002-06:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Before Christmas (so basically a couple of weeks ago), you turned 30 months old. Christmas itself was a blast -- you had fun playing with your cousins on both sides and getting all the love and attention in the world from your grandparents, aunts and uncles.

Then we had the insanity of the post-Christmas illness. Basically you and I came down with a 48 hour stomach bug. After that recovery, we quickly headed out to a waterpark/hotel, where you splashed until you were exhausted. Then there were more visits with family and friends, your father's birthday party and other crazy events.

Is it any wonder that parents are glad when the holidays are over? I'll confess I was RELIEVED to get our lives back to the usual humdrum routine. At least we all could sleep in our own beds and you could stretch out in your crib (as opposed to the Pack-n-Play, which now seems tiny for your body).

Looking back on the recent months, I have to say that I'm proud of the fact that you're learning diplomacy. You do say, "Please" and "Thank you" quite well, which does smooth some things over. I'm also impressed by your composure. During Christmas, when one of your cousins was playing with his new toy, you asked if you could play with it. He politely and nicely said he wanted to play with it right now.

Unlike other kids, who would perhaps hit him and take his toy, you walked away with some composure in your face, took two steps, saw me and then started bawling. Both of you deserve a lot of credit --he for being polite about the whole thing and you, for not smacking him and stealing his stuff. It's an important lesson to learn -- sometimes you ask nicely and you don't get what you want. It's how life is.

All this being said, I think that we now need to work on your private face. You've got a great public face -- you're like Bill Clinton. People can hardly believe that this sweet, giggly girl is the same one who pantses me when she wants something from me. Or that you've hit me. Or kicked me in the jaw while I do diaper changes. Or screamed her lungs out.

"She does what?" They ask me incredulously, as if I have accused you of punching Mother Theresa. "This sweet girl?"

Yes. You're a toddler. You're fickle, bossy and stubborn. You have to learn how to wait and share. You need to know that as your parent, I am not your whipping girl. I am your mother and I deserve respect. And right now, I can hear you laughing at that.

It's because you know I'll always be there. You can be as much of a shit as you want, and I won't leave you. My love is unconditional. But that doesn't mean that I won't like EVERYTHING you do. It's just harder now. I have to shape you to be a productive, kind and social member of society and to do that, I'm battling you and your id (which is basically all of you right now).

It's a tough battle, but if we can keep your charisma and sweetness and channel your rough behavior into something kinder, I think you will be unstoppable. And I'll continue to be your loyal minon.

Love,

Momma

You do know what your are drinking is meant for eye surgery?

2010-01-02T09:41:00.005-06:00

On Christmas Day, my sister, her husband, Jeff and I managed to flee the house to see Sherlock Holmes. I recall some brief discussion about seeing Avatar, but that ended when I basically said:

"NO. NO PLANET OF THE BLUE CAT PEOPLE. WANT HOLMES. HOOOOOLLLLMMMEEESSS."

How can you argue with a rational, thoughtful and reasonable argument like that?

Now a little bit on my background: I love mysteries. The Westing House, From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler and other similar books always interested me. I remember reading Sherlock early as a kid and loving it (as well as the mouse version, Basil of Baker Street). I always liked how Sherlock could figure out things just by observing the small details.

Quick aside: Post-college, when I interviewed for a job selling some ad space (I WAS HUNGRY ALRIGHT?), the man interviewing me said that it was clear that I couldn't see the big picture. I argued that "the small details make up the big picture" -- a line similarly used in the movie.

But I've never been a Sherlock obsessed fan like some other people. I stopped reading Doyle's mysteries awhile ago, after I discovered more hardboiled action like Robert Parker's Spenser, Sara Paretsky's V.I. Warshawski and others. Loving mysteries is in my blood, as far as I can tell -- my father's father translated Mickey Spillane novels into Chinese. But no matter what, in my mind, Sherlock Holmes is like one of the fathers of mysteries. He taught you that the smallest clues help make the big picture more clear.

Anyways, the movie. I really enjoyed it. As a casual Sherlock fan, I liked how Sherlock's mind worked and you saw it (that's always been one frustrating thing for me about Doyle's stories -- it seems like Sherlock was doing the COOLEST stuff with Watson not around, so we would always hear about it second hand). And yes, Sherlock is a badass mofo when it comes to fighting. I remember hearing about him boxing and other ninja detective-fu. It's just that Doyle never dwelled on it, as opposed to the scientific reasoning and observations, so it never lingers in our mind.

Cleolinda put it best with this line (go check it out -- it's a very thoughtful analysis. This blog will still be here):

Usually what would happen is that some ruffian would be all like ARRGHH I HAVE A PISTOL OR MAYBE A WALKING STICK, HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT MY CRIMES and then prim, gentlemanly Holmes would be all WAPOW! with one blow in some arcane but impressive manner, and there you were.

I liked how Robert Downey Jr. made Sherlock like a mad genius (or as I put it, RDJ was using his drug years as inspiration for some of Sherlock's antics). I liked that Watson wasn't the doddering old uncle that you often see in the movies -- like other details from Doyle, I suspect people forget that Watson was a soldier for awhile and a badass in his own right. I will also confess, I like that Watson was a bit crankier with Holmes. I sometimes wondered why Watson didn't snap at his roomie/bestest buddy for talking down to him sometimes.

And Irene Adler is a real character from canon too. Maybe not as much of as Action Girl in the books as in the movie, but she does exist (see "A Scandal in Bohemia" -- I love that she actually pulls one over the greatest detective ever. I saw it as a flaw of his -- because Sherlock doesn't see a woman as a potential equal, he missed Irene pulling one over him) and is awesome. Rachel McAdams is pretty good in the movie, but admittedly her makeup I found distracting. For some reason, she reminded me of Joan Collins in Dynasty. But that's just me.

But I understand why some people are critical of the movie. It had more action and explosions than maybe what we're used reading about or seeing on the PBS specials. But it's obvious that even with the explosions and running, fighting and shootings, there's a certain knowledge and love of Doyle's work behind it. I mean, it fits into the Sherlock universe and there are touches that show a respect for Doyle's work. Fans have pointed out Watson's limp (which I didn't remember), as well as the long, crazy-logical explanations at the end as to how everything happened (which I remember of a lot of Sherlock mysteries).

I don't want to spoil too much of the movie, but seriously, when they named the villains, the only thing missing was a dude named, "Bob Stabsyaintheback."

Also, welcome back Guy Ritchie. Did you get your spine back after your divorce from Madge? This is up there with Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels as well as Snatch. From the whole gritty look of London, to the end credits and the twangy, yet also rollicking soundtrack (I've been listening to the soundtrack for awhile now, thanks to YouTube), Sherlock Holmes was just plain, rollicking good action fun with proof of love for the source material.

So long the aughts!

2009-12-31T15:11:00.004-06:00

Well, this is it. The end of another decade. Or as Jeff helpfully put it today, "Well, every day is the end of a decade." He's technically right, but there's something not so...EPIC about that.

It's also his birthday today, so I hope he enjoys today -- we're basically having people over for some games and gaming. It's all footloose and fancy free, so I'm hoping that it won't suck. But then again, when friends are around, things aren't terrible.

I was thinking about the difference between 10 years ago and now, and it seems like a big change. Ten years ago, Jeff and I were just married, had our first apartment and I had started my first job in journalism (and only job thus far). Who would've thought that 10 years from now, we'd have a house and a kid? Or that I'd be the aunt to six kids already? It makes sense looking back, but I think it was hard to predict if you asked me 10 years ago.

I know people get philosophical around this time of year, and honestly, I can't think of anything to say. Time has passed, life has moved, events have happened and on the whole, it's been a good time. So yeah, Happy New Year. May 2010 be if not good, at least interesting, to us all.

In defense of a "good-enough" marriage.

2009-12-07T20:17:00.003-06:00

The New York Times magazine recently had an interesting article about a couple's trip through couples therapy and whether it was even worth it. Written by Elizabeth Weil, it chronicled her reasons for going through therapy and the issues it dredged up -- none of which are even remotely pretty.

I do suggest that people read the article -- I thought it was a fascinating view on couples therapy when people often go there looking for solutions and making things better. More profoundly for me was when she discussed at the end of the article, the idea of the "good-enough" marriage:

In psychiatry, the term “good-enough mother” describes the parent who loves her child well enough for him to grow into an emotionally healthy adult. The goal is mental health, defined as the fortitude and flexibility to live one’s own life — not happiness. This is a crucial distinction. Similarly the “good-enough marriage” is characterized by its capacity to allow spouses to keep growing, to afford them the strength and bravery required to face the world.
In the end, I settled on this vision of marriage, felt the logic of applying myself to it. Maybe the perversity we all feel in the idea of striving at marriage — the reason so few of us do it — stems from a misapprehension of the proper goal. In the early years, we take our marriages to be vehicles for wish fulfillment: we get the mate, maybe even a house, an end to loneliness, some kids. But to keep expecting our marriages to fulfill our desires — to bring us the unending happiness or passion or intimacy or stability we crave — and to measure our unions by their capacity to satisfy those longings, is naïve, even demeaning. Of course we strain against marriage; it’s a bound canvas, a yoke. Over the months Dan and I applied ourselves to our marriage, we struggled, we bridled, we jockeyed for position. Dan grew enraged at me; I pulled away from him. I learned things about myself and my relationship with Dan I had worked hard not to know. But as I watched Dan sleep — his beef-heart recipe earmarked, his power lift planned — I felt more committed than ever. I also felt our project could begin in earnest: we could demand of ourselves, and each other, the courage and patience to grow.

A disclaimer: I've talked to counselors to clear her head (as recently as BD's birth for postpartum issues), and (I will confess), dragged Jeff to one early in our relationship because while I love him, he was doing things that made me question whether he loved me (that proved beneficial overall -- I married him after all and he's still adorable). I understand the need and desire to talk to someone who's trained for this thing. I also understand the need to have an outside and neutral perspective to help mediate discussion with couples sometimes. We all need that and sometimes friends and family, while lovely sounding boards, aren't always the best people for sound advice.

"Good enough" sometimes sounds like a dirty phrase -- it's like, "It's not perfect, but it will do....I guess." But it's also an incredibly forgiving phrase. It gives you the leeway to forgive yourself and others, get up the next day and try and do better. And if you fuck up, it still will be alright. I remember reading about the idea of "good enough" parenting in a book and feeling liberated. No matter what, things will be alright, despite what the experts may say about my parenting choices.

Where was I? Oh yeah, marriage. From my perspective, after 10 years of marriage and four years of dating Jeff before he proposed, I think that the phrase "good enough" is pretty high praise. I trust him. I go to him for his counsel and we work together to attain the following goals:

1. Keep our daughter alive and happy.
2. Keep the house from burning down.

The rest is gravy.

But we haven't gone the way of becoming a hive mind. We are still separate individuals, with separate tastes. I get restless and have to go out and clear my head, but I will always return. He sometimes needs to sink himself into video games and disappear, but he always returns. We do battle, but it always feels good -- like there's been some progress made, even if it was a complaint aired.

I sometimes wonder if people define marriage by what they see with others, or what they're told it should be by others. Marriage is tricky -- basically it's what the two people involved are fine with -- it may not be perfect, but it's good enough.

And I like good enough. But I'm also admittedly a slacker.

I'm curious to hear other people's thoughts on this issue. What do you think -- is "good enough" good enough?

TALK TO THE MOOSE!

2009-12-02T13:46:00.002-06:00

I quick saw this ad on The Bad Moms Club, which referred to a Jezebel article that called the ad a "something very Sparkle Motion/Little Miss Sunshine about it, especially at the :08 mark."

I'll let you be the judge:

Other than the fact that there is no way in hell I'm buying Gap at full price for my kid (HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE PRICES? I'M NOT BUYING $30 SWEATERS FOR A KID TO WEAR ONE YEAR), I have no objection to the ad. But I've seen the girls in my neighborhood do that same dance and I don't think that there's anything sexual about it. I've even seen my daughter do the hip shimmy because she learned it from me. It's more the idea movement and rhythm. It reminds me of all the cheerleading stuff that I'd see in junior high and high school.

And I was in high school in 1861 -- when Lincoln was elected President. You would be amazed to see how those cheerleaders rocked the moves in a full hoop skirt and bustle.

Sometimes I wonder in our vigilance to keep kids as innocent as possible, we, as adults, start seeing everything through a sexual lens. Sometimes a little booty shake is just a fun way of expressing yourself -- not the next step to pole dancing. However, I would also hope to see a bunch of little boys do the same kind of ad for the Gap. Not because I like the ads (because honestly, they make me want to stab the holidays and step dancing), but because I'd like to see some gender equality.

NaBloPoMo: Not with a bang, but a whimper

2009-11-30T19:15:00.003-06:00

So I did it! I completed all 30 days of NaBloPoMo. This post is the last one for the month, and I have to say that it's been an interesting month overall.

I have to say that I don't feel like I accomplished anything at all. I don't feel like my creative muscles got stretched or that I feel more creative. Really, I feel like I half-assed my way through this month. It could be that I am unnaturally hard on myself, but that doesn't matter. If you don't have the results you want, you're not happy. And really, I am the person I have to live with. If it's not good enough for me, well then, I'm pissed.

Reading my friend K.'s post about her finishing NaNoWriMo, I was struck by this:

So yeah, do something pointlessly creative today, if that's your thing. Draw a cool picture, strum a little song, punch a poser in the face (oh wait, er...) Anyway, do something fun and creative. You don't have to share it. Unless you want to :)

Besides the idea of punching a poser in the face (which I'm always tempted to do), I think that her post is a reminder of all the little half-projects I have sitting around. The half-baked concepts, the cool scenes, the random characters that swim around and are written about, but then left half-finished.

I will start with a whine -- I've noticed that since I had my daughter, it's harder to write. Which is weird. I had a job that I worked 10-14 hour days sometimes and I still managed to write on this blog and come up with ideas. I noticed that with NaBloPoMo, after the Empress of the Universe went down for the night, I would often sit and stare at the screen, drooling slightly like I had lost my damn mind. No words would flow. I couldn't write about all the ideas that I had in my head.

They say that when you have a kid, some of your brain cells die. I think that there's something to that. I mean, I can't focus on writing sometimes anymore. I don't feel like I have anything to say. Or what I have to say is proto-thoughts -- they're not even at the point where I can write them down.

This isn't an announcement that this blog is shutting down. Oh hell no. I just don't think that I can do a post everyday. The fermenting time for my ideas is taking longer and requires more patience. I suppose it's because most of my brain is now occupied by this:

Seriously, the pitch that this kid sings in is enough to make you do that "Dog-In-Pain-Thanks-To-High-Pitched-Whistle". This isn't a slight against the kid in the wheelchair -- I think it's a good educational tool to point out differences and how kids shouldn't fear them. I'm just saying that the pitch the kid is singing at is PAINFUL. And it's one of my kid's favorite videos. I think she's trying to torture me.

So yeah, I can't promise that I will post everyday or that everything will be a gem, but I would say please be patient with me. I think that right now I have to learn a new way of writing that meshes with my family life and other responsibilities. I know things may change years from now, but that's YEARS. I don't think I can keep my narcissism and exhibitionism bottled up for that long.

Motherhood on film

2009-11-29T20:03:00.005-06:00

Maybe it's because I can be overly defensive at times, but lately, when I hear the word "motherhood" in the mainstream media, I get nervous. I think it's because a lot of times, I don't feel like the true image of motherhood is portrayed in media -- or that they're trying too hard to get it right and, as a result, they overshoot the mark into "BULLSHIT" land.

So when I saw this trailer for the movie "Motherhood", I was a little nervous:

However, I was pleasantly surprised. It feels more real than a lot of other movies that feature mothers. I think it helps that it was written and directed by a mother of two children and it also features Uma Thurman -- who's a mother of two. It also features Minnie Driver, who's a mom, and Anthony Edwards, who is a father of four.

It also helps that I find the trailer pretty funny -- celebrating both the foibles, sadness and insanity that we have to deal with as parents as well as the really sweet moments that happen. Maybe that's why I like some parenting blogs like Dooce and others -- it helps because you don't feel alone (especially important as a new parent) and when you rant about something there's a ton of other people nodding their heads and going, "Yep. Been there, done that."

In an interview, I think the director says it best when she said that in movies mothers are often portrayed as patient, lovely, saints or evil she-bitches. And it's not as simple as that. It's an incredibly complicated thing. The fact that a movie is trying to capture that makes me hopeful. It's a complex thing, but if done right, it'll make a lot of people get a better understanding of how this whole parenting thing works.

Four in the morning is no time for rational thoughts.

2009-11-28T10:51:00.002-06:00

Last night was a rough one. While Jeff headed to work for a late night computer thing, Benevolent Dictator woke up at midnight crying and I had to soothe her back to sleep (it's amazing how 17 verses of Itsy-Bitsy Spider can calm a kid down) and get her an extra blanket for bed.

She then woke up at 3:30 a.m. crying, then calmed herself down. I thought I heard Jeff's voice talking and assumed he was rocking her back to sleep. Then after she quieted down, I headed to the bathroom (because apparently now, when you get me up at night, I HAVE to pee).

I took a glance at the library, no Jeff. So I assumed he wasn't home. Then I began to wonder about what I had exactly heard.

The thoughts you have at 3:30 a.m. are not rational thoughts. I thought about all the horror stories I had read as a kid. Like the urban legend about the killer who left the note, "Dogs aren't the only things that can lick," the opening to the Graveyard Book and my personal favorite: "Can't sleep. House will eat me." So obviously I can't sleep, and I'm trying to calm myself down thinking rationally. My daughter is safe. She calmed herself down. It's time to go to sleep. Then suddenly the room seems to have gone darker.

Which sounds weird. It's night time. It's supposed to be dark, but in this modern age, with all the glowing clocks, LED lights, etc, our house is never truly pitch black. So when a light dims, the house does get a little darker. My brain, full of worry, starts to get fearful.

Then I hear the toilet flush. In a house where I think I'm the only one awake. My daughter is not toilet trained and she sleeps in a crib. Now the fear is replaced by full-blown panic.

Mustering up my courage, I wander downstairs and while I rationally know it's Jeff, I haven't seen him yet or heard him. I don't know for certain that he's home. He could still be at work. So there's no proof that he's in the house. The bathroom light is on and the door is cracked. I push the door open.

And to my husband's credit, he didn't scream when he saw his sleepy, deranged wife open the door (when he thought she was sleeping). I would've screamed.

"What are you doing up?" he asked.

It's a testament to love that he listened to my insane ramblings about the house trying to eat me, serial killers and ghosts, hugged me, told me that he had come home at 2:30 a.m. and was talking on Ventrilo on the computer (which is why I heard his voice) and was waiting for another call from work. After calming down a wife with an overactive imagination, he came up to bed and with me snuggling up against him, we both fell asleep.

So yeah, today I'm not really coherent. I'm hoping to find my will to live in the pot of coffee. I'll let you know if I do.

Yet another cop out

2009-11-27T23:41:00.002-06:00

So I know I should write something, but it's bloody late and I am already in bed. I have no excuses, but for NaBloPoMo, I feel the need to write something. So here it is. I got up late today, had scrambled eggs and ham for brunch, played with my kid for most of the day and then played D&D tonight. Not a bad day overall.

Happy Turkey-Eating Day!

2009-11-26T14:39:00.004-06:00

So I have a moment to breathe before the next act of THANKSGIVING: THE TURKEYING! and I figured that I'd take a moment, sit down and write out a list of everything that I'm thankful for. A lot of these things are obvious: Health, family, friends, love, etc. Some of them not so much. But it's always a reminder that no matter what, there are things to be grateful for:

Sesame Street online for giving me enough time to cook while my kid surfs the web and plays games. Jeff for being a sweet husband, with enough push to remind me that I don't rule the roost all the time. My daughter for being the shortest and funniest partner in crime I've ever had. Afternoon naps. U2 -- always U2 for inspiring me to be a better person. Green and Black's organic dark chocolate bars. Good wine. Snarkfest and forum folks like Genevieve, Kiran, Brainchild, Bookworm, Particle Person, Laurien_Kit, MollieWollie and many others who make me laugh and give me a place to go crazy with my pop culture ideas. Craig Ferguson's dancing puppets. Keidra for encouraging my insane ideas. Sid for her thoughtful discussion on race, gender and hot men. Christina for quick medical advice and NKOTB insanity. My sister and her family for being awesome (and my sister for those late night conversations that give me perspective on life). My mother, while she may drive me crazy, the woman will help me out when I ask for it. My grandmother for always being amused by my granddaughter. Funky socks. A good backrub. The Tudors (aka Ye Olde Yellye Sexe Showe). Henry Cavill for being a hot geek. My friends -- Abby, Joe, Heather, Aaron, Sarah, Erich, Jenno, Alan, Eva and many more for welcoming my daughter and doting on her. My neighbors and their kids who offer good laughs and have taught my daughter many things about playing with others. The fact that the Verona Public Library's self checkout comes with a "Pirate" language option. Spa Pedicures. Pumpkin Lattes. Sleeping in until past 9 a.m. The fact that Netflix is streaming on our Tivo. My mother-in-law for being a friend as well as a family member. My in-laws in general for being family. My nieces, Ally, Jena and Sami, for bringing that girly touch of pink when you need it. Tea parties. Mo Willems. Reginald Von Hoobie Doobie. Kevin Henkes. Lily and her purple plastic purse. Maddie, Elliott and Mali for being generally awesome. How I Met Your Mother. Twitter. Blogger. Journalists who still go out and get the story, despite the shitty pay and insane hazards. Sunny days. Hot chocolate. Threadless t-shirts. Legos. Sonic's Cherry Limeade. Popcap games. Dinosaurs. Totoro. Tea and cookies. Ninjas and Pirates. Webcomics. A quiet moment before the child wakes up from a nap.

There are many more things I am thankful for, but right now I can't remember them all. However, I would like to wish all of you a happy Thanksgiving/four-day-weekend. May your day be filled with family and fun.

On the eve of Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T20:27:00.003-06:00

I know I should be getting a replacement pie (our friend Enich, master piemaker is ill, which makes me sad), but seriously, I'm not in the mood. I'm going to be making a turkey, stuffing, roasting potatoes, roasting veggies and cranberry sauce.

Instead, I'm watching The Guild on MSN. Hopefully I can find a pie either later tonight or tomorrow. Wish me luck folks.

Also, I cleaned off the counter. That alone earns me points. My mother-in-law told me that a clean counter and refrigerator to make cooking better. I told her I was going to break out the napalm and hand grenades.

We'll see how things go tomorrow.

Sooo.....Adam Lambert.....

2009-11-24T22:15:00.003-06:00

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? And I'm not talking about the sexually-charged performance, because really, I'm over that. The only way to push the envelope now is to have Britney Spears perform her songs in a burka.

I'm talking about the singing. That was crap. Caterwauling crap. Like cat being tortured on a George Foreman Grill bad.

Also, to say that you're being edgy by pushing the sexual boundaries is a crock of shit. You don't always need to use sex to prove that you're edgy. Like I said, I'd love to see Britney perform in a burka. Hell, Lady Gaga is what I'd consider to be edgy, and it's not because of sex -- it's because of her fashion sense and dance style.

And that's pretty much my thought. If you want to see the performance, check this out:

Seriously. Cat on a George Foreman Grill.

We salute those who go out to get the stories

2009-11-23T19:51:00.002-06:00

This morning, while I was puttering around and being productive after a week of illness, I saw a story that made me stop in my tracks:

At least 12 journalists were killed today in Maguindanao province (on the southern island of Mindanao) by armed men, including two policemen, linked to the province’s governor, a supporter of President Gloria Arroyo. More than 30 other people were murdered. Some of the victims were beheaded.
“Never in the history of journalism have the news media suffered such a heavy loss of life in one day,” Reporters Without Borders said. “We convey our condolences and sympathy to all journalists in the Philippines, who are in state of shock after this appalling massacre.”

Reading that story made me incredibly sad for the people who were killed and their families. But to hear that at least a dozen reporters were killed made me shed a little tear. It's cliche, but I have to salute those reporters for being brave (and perhaps crazy) enough to go out into a dangerous area and hunt down the truth and bring it back for everyone else.

In my old life, my job never got that hazardous -- apart from a moment when I thought two politicians were going to come to blows after a meeting. But I remember hearing stories about violence -- one receptionist at another paper was physically attacked years before I started working.

But sometimes, when you'd get an angry phone call or someone would try and intimidate you, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand on edge and you'd wonder if something would happen (especially after hearing stories from other grizzled colleagues). Because we never truly know if we're safe -- there's always the risk of violence occurring somewhere.

This is where I have to salute those reporters. They were familiar with the risks for reporting in the Philippines during the election, yet they still braved going out there to get the story and bring it back for those of us who couldn't be there. That takes guts and a certain amount of insanity to go out and get the job done.

When people talk about citizen journalism and how blogging is the new wave of journalism, I agree, up to a point. How many of us would be willing to risk our lives to cover and election for crap pay? How many of us would blog about it as opposed to Lindsay Lohan? I think we know the answers to those questions.

I hope the killers are brought to justice. And I hope people never forget when things like that occur. Sacrifices are often made to get to the truth, and it's a risk that a good reporter is willing to do.

Monthly report: 29th month -- ATTACK OF THE THREE FOOT DIVA

2009-11-22T19:44:00.002-06:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

Yesterday you turned 29 months old. This past week has been a bit hellacious for all of us because you got a major cold that left you feverish, demanding snuggles, cranky and difficult to deal with. While it was sweet that you were demanding cuddles and enjoyed being snuggled up next to me, after three days of it, it got old. Fast.

Because you wouldn't let me move at all, it was difficult to have everything in the way I like it. I'm not saying I'm a neat freak (you should know that by now), but your mother does have a level of tolerance. Thankfully, your father was around to help pick up the slack left behind by me, because YOU WOULDN'T LET ME DO ANYTHING.

The funny thing is that with this week, it made me realize that while you can be tough at times with how stubborn you can get, you've got a lot of charm to you. You're chatting a lot more, demanding conversations and telling me about your day and what you say and how you feel about things. You love hanging out with both your parents and seeing new things and running and playing.

Which is why the sickness was so rough on my spirits too -- I really do enjoy hanging out with you. You are excellent at coloring and playing by yourself. It's a hoot to watch you take care of your stuffed animals and talk to them and play with them. You're my little partner in crime -- we both have fun exploring the world and seeing new things.

But having you shacked up on the couch, watching a lot of TV and sleeping was rough. It's like your vocabulary dropped to the following: "NO!" and "I.WANT.MOMMA." Even when I was sitting with you and cuddling with you, I would still hear, "I.WANT.MOMMA."

So when you started slowly recovering, I could see it instantly. The first thing was that you asked your father a question, instead of screaming, "NO! WANT! MOMMA!" at him. Next thing was your vocabulary coming back from the previous four words. Today you colored. It was amazing.

And that's what being in a family is all about -- when you're sad, we're here to pick you up and help care for you. When you're feeling better, we all rejoice. So even though you might be glad to feel better -- it's like we're all feeling better too.

The big bummer this week is that we were supposed to go on a family vacation together, but obviously, with your illness, we couldn't. I am sad about that, because it could have been a great time for all of us. But we have other times, more years and other vacations. I'm just glad to see you feeling better. Soon we'll be ready to take over the universe again.

Love,

Momma

Ever want to punch love in the face?

2009-11-21T14:41:00.003-06:00

That was my reaction when I saw the trailer for Valentine's Day:

I suppose it doesn't help that it looks like a weird-ass knockoff of Love Actually set in Los Angeles. It doesn't help that it centers on Valentine's Day, which to me has always been more about romance than actual love.

What really chafes my hide is how everyone in that trailer is whining about wanting to be in love and how it's so damn wonderful. Maybe I'm a pragmatic loonie, but I think that they're missing out on what love means.

Love is fucking hard. When I think of love, I think of U2's One. It's bitter, angry and also optimistic in that no matter what you don't leave a relationship. It's not just the roses, the walking-on-air feeling of new romance, the discovery and the fun. It's also the sleepless nights of uneasy silence when you battle with someone. It's taking care of sickness, fighting to get your voice heard, making compromises and oodles of insanely hard things.

What I've always hated is how people will always paint love as a magical cure-all that will somehow make you feel better and make life all sunshine and lollipops. It does make things sweeter, but it also makes the hard stuff harder -- BECAUSE YOU CAN'T BE A SELFISH DICK AND DO YOUR OWN DAMN THING. You have to take into account other people and their wants and needs.

And it feels like no one really addresses that these movies. Which is why I can't deal with most romantic comedies. It just makes me want to punch love in the face.

So there's been a lot of talk about Muppets lately

2009-11-20T20:38:00.001-06:00

And so, I found this quiz:

You Are Scooter

Brainy and knowledgeable, you are the perfect sidekick.

You're always willing to lend a helping hand.

In any big event or party, you're the one who keeps things going.

"15 seconds to showtime!"

The Muppet Personality Test

Blogthings: Discover the Parts of Your Personality that Have Been Hiding

I'm surprised I'm not Gonzo, to tell you the truth. Gonzo's the man. But this also seems pretty true to me.

In defense of No Line on the Horizon

2009-11-19T19:46:00.002-06:00

I'll be the first to admit it -- unlike a lot of U2 fans, who squee at everything that the band does, it took me awhile to warm up to their latest album, No Line on the Horizon. But normally, I come from the "HATED IT!" school of thinking and then warm up to something. Rarely do I love something from the outset, and when I do, I LOVE IT.

But I'll admit, I was disappointed to hear that No Line On the Horizon hasn't been selling well. And really, I think that it deserves a chance. It's more challenging than their previous two albums and the anthem songs are few, but I really think that this album prevented U2 from heading into Rolling Stones territory of sound the same all the damn time.

I talked to a U2 fan once who admitted she heard the album once and didn't like it. I told her the same thing I'll tell everyone here -- you have to give it chance. You have to listen to it repeatedly to peel back the layers. This isn't the simple first-person anthems that we all know and love. In No Line on The Horizon, several of the songs are from a character perspective -- a traffic cop, a junkie and a soldier stationed in a war zone -- and it's important to understand that.

And really, that's one of the wonderful things about this album. It's unexpected and it also highlights on of U2's strengths really -- when they're on fire, they can write some interesting songs. Breathe is a marvel for combining Dylanesque lyrics with the U2 anthem chorus. Cedars of Lebanon paints the picture of a war correspondent missing home and the images he sees in a foreign area.

I really believe that this album is amazing -- even more amazing than their previous two, which appeared to me that they were getting their bearings after getting slammed by Pop. It doesn't hit you right away like most singles -- it creeps into your mind and you absorb the songs and realize how much you like them and how good they are.

Edge said it best in an interview with the Guardian:

"There's a lot of records that make great first impressions. There might be one song that gets to be big on the radio, but they're not albums that people ... play a lot. This [isn't like] that, I gather from talking to people. Four months later, they're saying, 'I'm really getting into the album now.'"

And he's absolutely right. Give the album a listen. You don't have to listen to it constantly, but just listen to it. Give it a chance. It's a gem.

Writer's block. So I stole a LJ quesiton.

2009-11-18T20:04:00.005-06:00

What three items would you place in a time capsule to help future generations understand you?

1.The book U2 by U2. I think that anyone who bought that heavy motherfucker of a book AND read it in bed, is a true fan of the band. And seriously, I did do that. It's an unwieldy book to read in bed.

2. Kitchen knives. Because I like to cook and I like to wield knives and sharp things.

3. This blog. Or a laptop containing this blog. That should do the trick in getting a good picture of me.

And on the fourth day of "I WANT MOMMA" Momma cracked.

2009-11-17T23:23:00.003-06:00

Today I think was a bad day. While I have had fun snuggling the kid as she recovers from her cough, the "IWANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA." chant has gotten old. It's been her mantra lately as she coughs and hacks her way through this illness (thankfully, she's recovered from the fever).

As a result, I have spent more time on my ass watching TV and not doing stuff than I care to admit. I can't leave her alone because she follows with the pitiful cry of "IWANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA." in a sad, hoarse voice that tugs on your heartstrings, but after a few days of it, it gets old. Real old. Claustrophobic old.

It reminded me of the first three months with Benevolent Dictator and how I had such a hard time just holding her. I enjoyed it, but really, I also liked my freedom of movement. I like being able to cook, tidy up and do other things around the house. Holding onto a child is nice and all, but try doing it without the ability to do anything else (or the option of doing something else) and really, the shit gets old.

So today, I nearly lost my damn mind. Benevolent Dictator kept whining for me and begging for me and I just snapped. I think it's in combination with last night when she couldn't fall asleep and just lay their chanting, "IWANTMOMMA.IWANTMOMMA," which works the guilt reflex real nice too.

Here's the thing: I would love to scoop her up and have her sleep next to me, but I also know that may not be the best thing for her. Right now with everyone sick, we were all in different beds for awhile. It just feels better when you're sick to stretch out and be comfortable. And I know that while she'd like to snuggle me, you rest better when you're SLEEPING IN YOUR OWN DAMN BED AND NOT KICKING YOUR FATHER IN THE FACE.

So I wasn't the best and most patient and kind mother I could be. Being stuck in the house all day as dishes piled up, crumbs went unswept, toys got scattered and a tot chanted, "IWANTMOMMA.IWANTMOMMA," got to me. I wasn't exactly good. I snapped. I cried. And when the toilet got backed up, that's when I really flipped out.

Fortunately, there are friends who are equipped with alcohol and fun conversation to help me out sometimes. And this was one of those times. While I managed to flee the house yesterday, it wasn't quite enough. Especially after today, I needed a little bit more.

Also, I have to thank Jeff for being understanding enough to know that sometimes his wife needs to flee the house for a bit and clear her head. He may be a homebody, but I'm not good at it. But no matter what, Momma comes back. I always come back.

I guess what's the point of this? Maybe to point out that parenting isn't perfect and we all have really shitty days. The trick is to forgive yourself and be prepared to start the next day/week/month/whatever with a new face. And also to realize that tomorrow is a new day. Because really, you have no other choice in the matter. But that's life in general -- we always have to get up and do the next day, and the day after that.

As Mr. Slinger said in Lily's Purple Plastic Purse, "Today was a difficult day, tomorrow will be better." And damn, if that mouse wasn't right.

Lady Gaga is the white Grace Jones

2009-11-16T21:14:00.002-06:00

Seriously. Check out the Bad Romance video. SHE SETS HER BOOBS ON FIRE!

It's like a haute couture fashion show and some crazy art film made love to a techno soundtrack and birthed this!

Sadly, Videophone with Beyonce isn't as insanely fun:

It's like they tried to mix Bouncy and Gaga and instead of AWESOME, they got something that was kind of dampened down. Like mixing sushi and chocolate -- sometimes two great tastes do not go great together.

I have to credit my friend Heather

2009-11-15T19:52:00.002-06:00

For saving my ass with this little gem:

Which basically describes the joy of a newborn and diapers. Actually, I suspect I can hear many mothers laughing hysterically at this commercial.

The illness continues to ravage our house and Benevolent Dictator has been demanding my attention and snuggles. She's had a fever as high as 104, which resulted in a visit to Urgent Care, where she rejected the idea of wearing a face mask. Lucky it's not H1N1, but it's a virus that needs to work its way out.

It's been rougher. She's crabbier and not willing to have me cut her nails, or take her temperature. Not to mention, I've seen more kids programming than I care to admit. Send me some good vibes folks. Or at least some healing vibes.

Being the Center of the Universe is a tough gig.

2009-11-14T20:00:00.003-06:00

Recently, a cold has been raging through Casa Del Navel Gazer. It hit me on Tuesday night and is now raging through our house like a wildfire. It's hit Benevolent Dictator hard and, as a result, she's been demanding more of me, which doesn't help since I've been sleeping like shit and wanting nothing more than to lay down, sleep in and maybe have someone rip my throat out and replace it with something that doesn't fill up with phlegm.

Because she hasn't been sleeping well, she's been moody. Insanely moody. Like a little insane drunk meth addict who is acting like Alexis Carrington in a really bad off-Broadway play moody. The only way to ease the pain of today (which was a lot of screaming, crying, clinging and wailing) was about three hours of TV. Starting with a Wallace and Gromit marathon and ending with Mythbusters. There was some dinner in between, which made things easier. Not to mention the fact that she decided it would be fun to ride in the car with her dad to get the food. Which allowed me a few minutes to myself.

The funny thing is that I didn't mind it when she demanded the snuggles. I remember when she was an infant how I wanted my arm free to do something or just to be free to walk around and DO SOMETHING. But now that she can move and run and doesn't like a snuggle, unless it leads to being tossed around like a sack of potatoes or held upside down, this was a rare moment. Feeling her heavy weight on me as her hands kneaded my arm brought me back to those moments when I could hold her close whenever I wanted. It was a sweet feeling to hear her breathe as she dozed and just how relaxed her body was.

However, I would like my little nutball to get better. Seeing her like this isn't fun. While the snuggling is nice, I do miss my little explorer.

One hot toddy in....

2009-11-13T21:58:00.003-06:00

And after an day with the in-laws and the adorable nieces, I'm wiped out. My head cold continues to rage and I am tired. So I'm phoning it in. Again. So sue me. At least I'm posting everyday. And it's something interesting. Kind of.

Anyways, here's a youtube video to tide you over until I have a coherent thought:

BEYONCE! She's not just for the grown-ups! The babies love her too! For real. Benevolent Dictator also digs the hell out of this song and likes to dance around to it too. But I think it's also the memory of when she was a wee baby, how I would pick her up and swing her around while the song played on my computer.

Poor Jeff. He's outnumbered. Not only in gender, but also in music taste.

Five questions!

2009-11-12T19:43:00.002-06:00

So, the lovely domestic goddess, bookworm and overall wit Genevieve, offered to ask people five questions on her livejournal and I signed up for the deal. She gave me five questions and now I'm going to answer them! What fun!

If you want the same, comment and I'll get something to you!

1. Candyland or Chutes&Ladders. DEFEND.

Look, I know that Chutes and Ladders is all about teaching manners to a bunch of knee-high sociopaths, but seriously, the game never made sense to me. The whole point of a ladder is to get to the chute and the fun of sliding down. Candyland is a problem because it basically creates the whole thing of candy/sugar=GOOD TIMES. But it also has the advantage of teaching color recognition and matching.

But in all honesty, I gotta give it to Candyland. Because THE CHUTES/SLIDES ARE THE WHOLE POINT OF GOING UP THE LADDER. One should not be penalized by doing something fun! If it was the other way around, that would make more sense to me. But that's not how the game works.

2. What is one look within fashion you wish you had the chutzpah to carry off?

I do wish I could pull off the vintage '60s fashion like on Mad Men. I like how fitted the dresses are to flatter the figure and how polished everyone looks. I love that people CARED about how they looked and put some thought into everything -- from the little hats down to the shoes and accessories.

However, I don't do discomfort well. Jeff has said he doesn't like how I look in girdles and corsets (which give you the figure) because of how uncomfortable I look. And whenever I've tried on dresses with that look, I look utterly silly -- the prints make me look like a couch coming at you and the skirts make it look like I'm smuggling midgets under there.

3. What was the most exhilarating moment you have experienced so far as a parent?

It's hard to say. I think the one that sticks in my head is seeing my daughter jump for the first time. I think it's because she jumped later than other kids around her age and I thought that would be something she'd get right away (she LOVES to run, climb and get into trouble). So when she jumped for the first time, it took my breath away. It was totally unexpected and the look on her face and the cry of, "LOOK! MOMMA! I JUMP!" made me so happy. The girl only jumped maybe half an inch, but I swear, it was like she touched the sky.

4. What is the best book you have read in the last two years?

Damn. That is a tough call because I have to remember all the books I've read these past two years. Especially when I was breastfeeding BD, I'd be reading two books at a time -- one in the room while she was nursed to sleep and then one in the bedroom.

Right now I will have to say that I loved Julia Child's book, "My Life in Paris." She had a certain wit to her writing and her description of post-war Paris and the food made me want to move there right now. That was also an amazing book to read about the drive she had to get a cookbook done RIGHT and published. I came out of it having more respect for how driven she was and how she achieved her goal later in life. I also loved her description of her and Paul's marriage. I think her marriage and Calvin and Alice Trillin's are the two marriages that I would like my marriage to be.

5. Who would you really want to interview? (All Proust's questionnaire style and stuff)

Living? Russ Feingold. I actually met him once for my job and I didn't have enough time to really do a long interview, but it was amazing meeting the man. He's got my undying devotion because he voted against the Patriot Act when everyone was like, "IF YOU DON'T VOTE FOR THIS, YOU SUPPORT TERRORISM!"

Dead? Teddy Roosevelt. I think he'd have a lot of fun things to talk about and be very well learned on a variety of subjects.

Yes, it's not our Sesame Street anymore

2009-11-11T12:48:00.004-06:00

Happy Birthday Sesame Street! The pioneering children's show recently turned the big 4-0. I honestly don't remember watching a lot of the show -- my babysitters growing up were more into watching the soaps on CBS than Sesame Street -- but I do remember a lot of the old episodes.

I know I've talked about Sesame Street before and that I like it, but I thought a recent article by the New York Times was interesting:

The pedagogy hasn’t changed, but the look and tone of “Sesame Street” has evolved. Forty years on, this is your mother’s “Sesame Street,” only better dressed and gentrified: Sesame Street by way of Park Slope. The opening is no longer a realistic rendition of an urban skyline but an animated, candy-colored chalk drawing of a preschool Arcadia, with flowers and butterflies and stars. The famous set, brownstones and garbage bins, has lost the messy graffiti and gritty smudges of city life over the years. Now there are green spaces, tofu and yoga .

I totally understand what they're talking about, and I think that for a lot of us who grew up with the old version of Sesame Street (not "your mother's Sesame Street" but MY Sesame Street -- cripes. Am I that old?) it is a bit like when Times Square in NYC changed to something...more wholesome.

But to me, this version of Sesame Street reflects some of the changes that we see in our society. Gentrification of what was previously considered the "bad part of town" is more and more common. When people become parents, they aren't fleeing to the suburbs -- they're staying in the city. As a result of these things, the city changes and becomes something different. It's not he home we remembered as a child.

I find it funny that the New York Times -- which to me sometimes screams of upper middle class white privilege -- is so critical of the change. I wonder if it's because a lot of us are looking at this and not finding the same things we had growing up on Sesame Street. Perhaps nostalgia is tinting our world viewpoint with a "Things aren't as cool as when we were kids," view.

I know the article's charting the change of the show, but there's something kind of sneering in the way the writer describes the characters. Like Abby Cadabby: "(A) pink and sparkly fairy with a button nose and long eyelashes was taken as yet another sign of the ascent of third wave feminism — or a concession to the commercial appeal of Disney-style princess."

I like Abby Cadabby. And I know most girls go through a very girly phase where it's all about pink and lavender, fairy wings and other such things. Looking back, when I think about how all the monsters on Sesame Street were mostly guys when I was growing up (I just remember Prairie Dawn being a regular, but not anyone else), I'm glad to see Zoe, Abby Cadabby and Rosita. There are girl monsters and Muppets too!

But you know something? I don't mind the change. As a show that's been going strong for 40 years, Sesame Street has to evolve and change to reflect our history and our times. Otherwise kids won't find it relevant to their world viewpoint. While nostalgia is nice and all, we (as adults) have to remember, we're not the target demographic anymore. Kids are. And to keep an effective show going, you have to reflect the changes in the audience.

Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if 30 years from now, my kid is complaining about how Sesame Street isn't as good as when she was a kid. "WE HAD ABBY CADABBY! SHE WAS AWESOME! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS SHIT? KIDS TODAY!"

NaBloPoMo: Sleepy

2009-11-10T22:46:00.002-06:00

Back from our friend's Mike's father's funeral. It was a nice funeral and seeing Mike's mom dance to The Lion Sleeps Tonight during the luncheon was a great moment, since that was his father's favorite song.

It's funny. The older I get, the more crisis of faith I have. I did not grow up in a religious house. My dad was Catholic, but we never went to church. But if you know me, this doesn't mean that I don't have a spiritual side. But well, I'm rather muddled up in my thoughts about religion, faith and the whole shebang. It's been something that I've been wrestling with for awhile, and I don't see it stopping anytime soon. I don't think it's something that I can write about coherently, because it's something still stewing about in my head.

But I was amused to take the Belief-O-Matic quiz and find out that apparently, I am a Unitarian Universalist. So what are you?

TROGDORA LIVES!

2009-11-09T23:37:00.002-06:00

Yeah. No real blog post today. Tonight was spent getting a new hard drive into Trogdora and also getting her back up to speed. It's not perfect, but it will work for now.

So instead, here's a favorite Youtube video:

I think it says something when my kid loves this video and says that I look like Felicia Day. Which is funny. Because I look like a cross between Clara and Tinkerballa in my head.

But yes, The Guild is funny. Watch it. Trust me.

Why didn't I think of this earlier?

2009-11-08T19:51:00.001-06:00

And by this, I mean THIS:

and THIS:

I mean, it's something that both K. and I have talked about doing for awhile. Making our own movie with puppets and random stuffed animals, but we never did. AND THEN CRAIG FERGUSON GOES AND DOES IT. AND MAKES IT LOOK WAY COOLER THAN I THINK I COULD DO WITH OUR SHITTY HOUSE LIGHTS AND MY HIGH STANDARDS OF PRODUCTION ON A SHOESTRING BUDGET.

But I have to say that I love how he does it. It's made me Tivo his TV show now to watch when I have a spare moment. His interviews are hysterical and he's just funny as hell. I like his ripping into Twilight and how the vampires in Twilight aren't sexy -- they're gay men. His interviews with fellow Scotsmen Ewan McGregor and James McAvoy are a hoot. He even makes Gerard Butler appealing to me (Now I'll have the damn Tarts gunning for me). Also, his monologue, which is a dazzling, brave and insane thing by going without a script is fun to watch. It's amazing how he can riff and not flop flat on his ass.

So I guess, my point right now is more that people should watch the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Even though he took an idea that I know I had years beforehand. If you're reading this Craig: I am waiting for my royalties check. But a signed copy of your book and tickets to your show will suffice.

Everyone -- including kids -- can be a little bit racist.

2009-11-07T13:04:00.003-06:00

I was picking up some take-out last night when I saw the cover of a Newsweek magazine from September: "IS YOUR BABY RACIST?" the headline blared. I started laughing hysterically, because I remember the article that the cover is referring to.

Written by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman, the article discusses how we as a society deal with racism and prejudice and our attempts to teach the children. Turns out, it's not as simple as, "Show them a lot of variety and *poof* no more racism!"

It was no surprise that in a liberal city like Austin, every parent was a welcoming multiculturalist, embracing diversity. But according to Vittrup's entry surveys, hardly any of these white parents had ever talked to their children directly about race. They might have asserted vague principles—like "Everybody's equal" or "God made all of us" or "Under the skin, we're all the same"—but they'd almost never called attention to racial differences.

They wanted their children to grow up colorblind. But Vittrup's first test of the kids revealed they weren't colorblind at all. Asked how many white people are mean, these children commonly answered, "Almost none." Asked how many blacks are mean, many answered, "Some," or "A lot." Even kids who attended diverse schools answered the questions this way.

I could've told you that one. But I'm a minority. And also, I'm a parent. I don't have the idea that children are basically open molds who can become accepting by not addressing differences or using bullshit phrases like, "Everyone's equal."

First off, people who assume that kids will be open and learning and accepting have not really spent time around kids. They can be assholes and psychotics. Remember the book Lord of the Flies? Kids are little insane sociopaths who stick with their tribe and seek any excuse to make some other kid the outsider. It doesn't matter if you've got a bunch of clones. I'm willing to bet that with the Jango Fett clones, they still picked on each other for tiny, stupid differences, like the way that they brushed their teeth or how they parted their hair.

So to assume that a kid will hear, "Everyone's equal" and follow that credo is INSANE. No adult does that. We question, we probe. Kids do that too. They may not say it to your face, but they're thinking it. And if an adult freaks out when kids question differences, odds are, kids will interpret that as, "Well that difference is scary. And it's not good. SO I MUST FEAR IT." Or something like that.

I think that what makes it hard for us as parents is not just that a lot of people are afraid to talk about race and diversity, but also how to do it in a thoughtful manner. A blunt question from a child gets a different response than that same question from an adult. Maybe it's that we should allow kids to ask these questions and treat them seriously. What sounds harsh to adult ears is a very simple question from a child's viewpoint.

I remember watching Ni Hao Kai Lan with my nieces and one of them said Chinese sounded like "baby talk." I get that she meant it sounded different and foreign to her, and I just pointed out that sometimes English sounds funny to someone who doesn't understand it. If you don't understand the language, it all sounds like gibberish, I said.

I don't know if I made an impact, but I'm just glad that no one told her to quiet down and pretend her viewpoint didn't exist. I was happy to address it and I'm willing to teach her more about my background in the future.

Keep in mind, the viewpoint I have right now only really works up to a certain age, say maybe 10. I just don't like the idea that fear of a bad reaction from a person (especially an adult, who should know how to adjust their reactions to blunt questions from adults versus children) prevent them from learning something new or different.

I think we all can agree that the idea of a melting pot in America doesn't quite work out. We all are different people, with different backgrounds and cultures. Unless we let people ask questions, show curiosity and interest in something different and learn something, we're never going to truly address racism. We're just going to be, well, whitewashing over it.

NoBloPoMo! Still breathing, but on life support.

2009-11-06T23:39:00.002-06:00

I am about to do 30 days of YouTube. Because this month looks bad. I have a feeling I have bitten off more than I can chew. Today's subject, Christopher Walken reading Lady Gaga's Poker Face:

This teaches us three things:

1. Christopher Walken's line readings are always funny as hell. They have an odd rhythm to them that highlights the unexpected.

2. Pop songs really are silly.

3. "OH! EEE! AH! OH!" really isn't that sexy, when read aloud.

NaBloPoMo: Yeah....maybe I get an E for effort. Or "S" for SUCK

2009-11-05T19:29:00.002-06:00

Wow. I have realized that it's a pathetic thing to basically have no idea what the hell to write for NaBloPoMo. We're Day 5 in the project and let's see what I have done:

1. Youtube videos of puppets and Craig Ferguson.
2. My kid wrote a blog post.
3. One vaguely beefy post about being a concert asshole.

This is admittedly pathetic. It's lazy, half-assed and well, sad. Like someone doing NaNoWriMo but using "SUCK" 50,000 times. Which I haven't done. Yet.

I don't have any good excuses. I think the problem is that all my ideas are half-formed, barely baking and barely there. A lot of time that I would normally use to cook up ideas has vanished -- lost in a vortex of sleepless nights (DAMN YOU DAYLIGHT SAVINGS BULLSHIT), trying to get Trogdora fixed up (new hard drive will arrive soon) and just half-assed laziness.

I feel like Julie Powell in the movie Julie and Julia when she says, "I HAVE THOUGHTS! I COULD WRITE A BLOG!" I have thoughts. I have ideas. But they're not firm yet. And honestly, it's hard to write something when it's not even a rough sketch in your head.

So I suppose this is an indicator of how the month will go. If you are brave and willing to stick with me, that's great. If not, I understand. I was hoping that this would help jump start my writing portion of my brain, but so far, no luck.

Grarg. Anyone have ideas on how to deal with writer's block? Besides writing about it?

Day two of phoning it in. Sort of.

2009-11-04T15:51:00.003-06:00

Because I am able to cut off the chain that connects me to the house and hop the compound fence, I'm going out with friends tonight for dinner. Which means that the writing time that I was planning for tonight got hijacked. So, I think that today,

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Well, apparently the child hijacked the computer. Let's call this her first official blog post. To translate:

"PEOPLE OF EARTH. MY NAME IS BENEVOLENT DICTATOR. I WISH TO SPREAD THE MESSAGE THAT YOU ALL SHOULD WORSHIP ME AND DESPAIR. I ALSO WISH TO MEET THE ONE YOU CALL ABBY CADABBY AND DISCUSS MAGIC WITH HER."

Welcome to my life.

Yes, I realize that this is a freebie blog post. The whole title is a blog post a day for 30 days. They never said anything about quality.

So, I should do a blog post.

2009-11-03T20:00:00.002-06:00

But I'm phoning it in right now. I think this say something about the rest of the month, when I'm already phoning it in the third day of November. I'm just warning y'all.

Anyways, I just wanted to show everyone my latest obsession: Puppets singing Britney Spears:

I'll be better tomorrow. Promise. This evening has suddenly gone terrible and I'd like to be quiet and chill out before I punch a poser in the face.

I have learned something. I am a concert asshole.

2009-11-02T19:43:00.002-06:00

Specifically, I am the asshole at a concert who is like, "PLAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT! STOP PLAYING THE BIG HITS! I DON'T CARE!"

I learned that when I watched U2 livestream their concert on YouTube. Keep in mind, I saw the Sept. 12 U2 360 show in Chicago, which was the opening night of the American leg of their tour. During that concert, they opened with four songs from their new album, No Line of the Horizon (WHICH IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY AMERICANS AREN'T LINING UP TO GET THIS ALBUM).

It is admittedly a gutsy move, but I liked it. It showed confidence in the new album and their songs. But when I watched the YouTube concert, it seemed like there were too many hits. Or at least, the iconic hits that everyone knows.

I know that they have to keep a fine balance in keeping everyone happy -- I mean, there's the die-hards who want the obscure singles, the casual fans who want to hear With Or Without You for the gazillionth time and the drunk assholes who are yelling, "FREEBIRD!" -- but seriously, U2 has a million hits. They don't need to trot out the icons for each show. Lemon is awesome. Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me is the shit. NUMB IS THE BOMB.

And it got me wondering whether the band gets sick of playing the same things over and over again. I mean, at every tour, there's Where the Streets Have No Name -- an uplifting song -- but damn man, I have heard that song a billion times. On the radio and 900 different concert versions. So I guess sometimes I'd love to hear something different. And so, here is my list of different versions of Where the Streets Have No Name I'd like to hear:

Speed metal (K. asked me, "Do you think they have it in them?" Me: *laughing hysterically* "No. But it'd be AWESOME.").
Trance-techno remix (which would be a great tie-in with the remix of I'll Go Crazy, which is the SHIT!)
Hardcore hip-hop with a guest from Jay-Z (after all, he and Bono and pals, so why not?).
Bollywood musical.

I think that this is one of those complaints that I hear a lot of hardcore fans of bands. K. mentioned her Nine Inch Nails experience and Jeff even told me his perspective of Rush concerts (which is understanding, but also like other hardcore fans).

I think that my favorite moments at concerts aren't the big hits, but when the obscure hits are trotted out that you might know, but it's amazing to hear live. I loved hearing U2 do "The First Time" in Milwaukee. It is a bone-chilling moment to hear thirty-something thousand people sing the word "LOVE" in time with the song and see the band loving every minute of it. And that's not a moment you'd get with the iconic hits.

NaBloPoMo: Let's try this again.

2009-11-01T22:04:00.003-06:00

In the past, I've done National Blog Posting Month. I've tried doing National Write a Novel Month, but seriously, it ends with me watching Vh1 and doing stupid shit like screaming at the television ("FOR REAL! WHY DO YOU NEED SO MUCH HAIR GEL?")

So here we go!

Y'all been warned. I have no idea what I'll write about, but I figure at least I can kick some stuff out and write. I need to do more of that anyways, since lately, I've been feeling like I've been stagnating, so this should be an interesting exercise.

To inspire me, I'm going to ask my dear, devoted readers (all 10 of you) to throw me some questions. Just in case the well runs dry.

Sesame Street, children's programming and the electronic babysitter

2009-10-28T20:06:00.003-05:00

One advantage of being the mother of a two-year-old is that you can watch Sesame Street and be like, "SEE! IT'S STILL AWESOME! I'M WATCHING THIS WITH MY KID! DON'T JUDGE ME!"

I remember when K. posted something about old school Sesame Street and how awesome it was. While she does have a point, I have to say that some of the new Sesame Street is pretty damn awesome.

Case in point: The Shoe Fairy!

How often do you see Neil Patrick Harris wearing fairy wings and singing about shoes? It's just been one of those little things that makes me want to keep watching the show, even though I'm using the TV as a momentary getaway so I can get chores done.

I've also found myself sitting enraptured watching this:

And even though it's buried in Elmo's World (WHICH IS CRACK FOR TODDLERS), Mr. Noodle is pretty awesome:

Bill Irwin has some great silent physical comedy. And the Mr. Noodle segment is totally a haven for Broadway stars like Michael Jeeter and Kirstin Chenoweth.

YES. I SAID IT. I USE MY TV AS A BABYSITTER SOMETIMES. You try making dinner with a tiny howler monkey attempting to pants you or climb up to see the stove and add sugar as a spice. Or take apart the coffee maker. Or pants you. Try it. Then come back to me and tell me how I shouldn't use TV as a babysitter.

But all of this discussion has a point -- sort of. Bear with me.

I remember discussing this with K. about how some children's media (TV, music, whatever), seems more aimed to the parents than the kids. I don't mind a little nod and wink to the parents (see the Mad Men skit on Sesame Street), but sometimes I wonder if some of the children's media is being marketed more to the adults than the kids.

This doesn't mean that children's programming is watered-down drivel that makes you want to drive an ice pick into your brain. Some of my favorite children's books have some rather deep themes. Neil Gaiman has some great children's books (The Day I Traded My Dad for Two Goldfish is a SCREAM). Wallace and Gromit are a lot of fun for adults and children.

But I think that there's a line -- when the majority of the children's stuff has content going over the kid's head and is aimed at the adult in the room, I think that's a sign that you're not making children's programming. And I feel like I see a lot of that, which bugs me. Because really, who are you marketing to? If you're not including my kid in the conversation, my kid is going to be bored and I will notice that you're not catering to her.

Monthly report: 28th month.

2009-10-21T20:03:00.003-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

Sorry about the lack of a report last month. I have no excuse as of late, except that I tend to procrastinate and forget about doing the report. It's a bad habit of mine. Frankly, I'm kind of proud of the fact that I do these reports and they're longer than, "YOU'RE CUTE. STOP SAYING WHY ALL THE DAMN TIME."

Most recently, you've learned how to apologize. Whenever I'm angry at you, you'll say something like, "I sorry Momma. I'm trying to be polite." However, you will apologize, then go back to doing whatever it was that pissed me off in the first place. In short, you now know how to apologize like a politician. It's both hysterical and irritating. You're learning manners, but not the motivation behind them.

As of late, you've really been enjoying coloring and painting. And I'm thankful Crayola makes everything washable. Otherwise our kitchen table (BRAND NEW) would not just be covered in fork gouges (which you did), but also a new paint job.

I think the biggest milestone for me this past couple of months is that you actually jumped on your own. In September, you jumped for the first time. It wasn't big -- maybe a fraction of an inch -- but it took my breath away. Since then, you've been jumping like a little kangaroo, marveling at the fact that you can control your body and take flight for a moment.

Add to this the fact that you run everywhere because you can, and you've got one frazzled mother chasing you everywhere. You've also figured out ways to get around childproofing and my attempts to keep things out of your reach. Perhaps it was a bad idea for me to show you how to push a chair over to the breakfast bar so you could see the computer.

That's how I lost my wedding ring for one day. It didn't help that I spent a day flat on my back thanks to a stomach bug, while your dad cared for you (other than throwing up from overeating, you fared better that day than I did), so I didn't realize I didn't have my wedding ring on for a couple of days. Then when I realized it was missing, I searched all the same familiar places. No ring. I dug through the trash -- which was filled with dirty diapers, coffee grounds and pukey paper towels. No ring.

Then, when I was laying in bed, I flashed back to one day when you were looking with great interest under the stove. I didn't think of anything at the time. But this time it triggered something and I looked under the stove. There, shiny and sparkly was my ring. The most I can fathom is that you were by the laptop, grabbed the ring, it dropped and rolled under the stove.

So I found a new hiding place. Which I figure will last for a few months until your incredible acrobatics force me to find a different resting spot. I think the whole point of this is that it was a perfect illustration of you -- not that you get into trouble, but that you like to investigate and play with things you don't normally have.

I love that curiosity kiddo, but it does keep me on my feet. Which is probably good for me -- resting on my laurels has never been a good idea.

Love,

Momma

SPECIAL EFFECTS BUKKAKE!

2009-10-04T10:15:00.003-05:00

While we were watching Project Runway last Thursday, Jeff and I were subjected to five minutes of the new movie 2012:

Which raised a few questions:

1. How the hell does a limo outrun an earthquake?
2. Why is a plane flying so low it could be hit by falling buildings and collapsing freeway bridges?
3. Why hasn't John Cusack fired his agent yet?

And yet, the bad movie connoisseur in me wants to desperately see this movie. Drunk. It's like Independence Day and The Day After Tomorrow had wild sex in a one night stand, got knocked up and birthed this.

It's like the director just put all his money into the special effects department. "YOU WANT MONUMENTS DESTROYED? WE'LL GET THEM ALL! NOT JUST THE EIFFEL TOWER, BUT WE'LL HIT ASIA AND SOUTH AMERICA TOO!" I swear, this is what CGI artists in Hollywood dream about, when you ask them what their dream job is.

Five words: Motherhood

2009-09-29T20:03:00.005-05:00

And now the final word in the five word meme: Motherhood.

Motherhood's a hard word to write about because at times it feels like such a charged word. Maybe it's that I spend too much time reading parenting blogs, but I often see articles on people passing judgment one way or another on what mothers do, how they do it, what they should be doing instead and how your child will turn into an axe murderer if you don't do things the right way. And then there's the whole, "BACK IN MY DAY" rants which make no sense.

In other words, it seems like everyone and their fucking mother have something to say about parenting and motherhood, when really, we all need to calm the fuck down.

But here I go with my thoughts on the subject. I'm a huge fan of the "almost perfect" school of parenting. In other words, as long as there's no blood, concussions, injuries, fatalities and the house is still standing at the end of the day, it's pretty much a WIN. It's not how each minute goes -- it's the whole picture and the overall result. One bad day isn't going to destroy a child.

I sometimes feel like what I can say about parenting is too much, but at the same time quite contradictory in nature. Probably part of living so close to the subject -- or in it, as the case may be. But overall, the one theme that keeps coming up for me is love. Love in all its forms -- stormy, angry, quiet, sad, happy, belly-laughing inducing, etc. It hurts like hell sometimes from the joy and the pain that occurs.

I know some call it a job, but really, I am starting to think that it's about establishing relationships and building foundations with other people from the ground up. It's incredibly hard work at times, but it's also satisfying and fun. It's not something I'd recommend for everyone.

I can't say when I realized I wanted this and was ready for it. I just was. And I don't regret it one bit.

OK Erich. It's now your turn. My five words to you are:

Pants
Community
Music
Spirituality
Travel

Five words: Gaming

2009-09-28T13:22:00.002-05:00

For Erich -- Dude, I'm sorry this is taking so long. But at the end, I've got five words I want to see on your LJ.

Anyway, gaming is the fourth word that my friend gave me. Which is a fun word. I associate it with meeting up with friends and hanging out for a few hours, having VERY inappropriate conversations and goofing off for a few hours.

I also have to credit gaming for introducing me to Jeff. Back in the day, there was a live-action role playing thing called Madison By Night when it was founded in 1867 (KIDDING!). The previous year, when I was doing theater work, I met someone who introduced me to White Wolf and the Werewolf game, which really interested me. I didn't play, but a seed was planted in my head.

Jeff and I had spent the summer talking to each other on a BBS (yes, back in the day of dial-up modems. Remember, this was 1867) and he mentioned he played the Werewolf game. I said I was interested and he told me to talk to his friend at the Student Organization meet-and-greet thing they hold every fall. I didn't meet Jeff then, but I got hooked up with Madison By Night, a live-action role-playing game focused on vampires. Afterwards, Jeff invited me to a party at his friends' house (they were the organizers behind Madison by Night) and well, the rest is history.

I'm not one for LARPing (as it's called), because of the following reasons: 1) I'm a terrible actor and very one-dimensional. 2) I don't scheme very well. 3) I hate dressing up. But when Jeff introduced me to tabletop gaming, I found a very fun hobby.

Like a lot of women (not all, but I'm willing to bet the majority), I got introduced to gaming thanks to a boyfriends or a spouse. And it stuck with me because it was a good outlet for meeting friends -- I found geeky, sweet and smart friends who are great fun to be around. These friends helped show me the ropes to gaming and were also tolerant of several newbie mistakes (DO NOT TOUCH ANOTHER PERSON'S DICE. DO NOT TELL THEM HOW TO PLAY THEIR CHARACTER.).

Without a doubt, gaming's become a big part of my life. I still play very similar characters -- I like doing broad comedy, hate scheming and enjoy beating things to death (when in doubt, violence). I am not a patient person, so the characters I play are rather simple. But really, it's what I like and my friends don't mind, so it's all good.

I expect it to be part of Benevolent Dictator's future too. She already knows how to say, "Half-orc," and "bugbear." What's amusing is that one kid in my neighborhood is already interested in gaming -- she's seen the books and some of my characters. Who knows? I might end up introducing the next generation to gaming. I'LL BE AN ENABLER!

I've got enough to feel guilty about as a mother...

2009-09-20T20:10:00.002-05:00

BUT I'LL BE DAMNED IF YOU PRY MY GLASS OF WINE FROM MY HAND.

Sorry. That was my reaction after reading an article about women -- particularly mothers -- drinking:

A horrific car crash in July on New York's Taconic Parkway, in which Diane Schuler -- who police say was drunk and had smoked marijuana -- killed four children, herself and three adults while driving the wrong way, has intensified the debate over whether child-rearing and drinking are simply too lethal a cocktail for some women.

For the record, I'm drinking a glass of wine right now as I type this.

I talked this over with some friends on Twitter, and seriously the entire article smacks of sexism to me. Now, I will not deny that some people have alcoholism, but but that's honestly a personal thing. It crosses across sexes, races, socioeconomic and every other line.

But what bothers me is that there's an implication that a woman -- ESPECIALLY A MOTHER -- can not do what a man does responsibly. That is they can't have a couple of drinks and still do their parenting job.

WHERE'S THE DAD IN ALL THIS? What about fathers who drink? Where is their responsibility in this? In today's age, it's not just the mother who does parenting -- the dad also parenting duties. Why is it that somehow it's worse for the mother to drink?

Perhaps that's my biggest pet peeve -- that there is still this implication that women are doing the primary parenting job. What about the fathers that are staying at home? Don't they have the same responsibility to keep their drinking under control? By putting the focus only on mothers, it denies the fact that yes, men can be participatory parents and have the same responsibilities and burdens as mothers.

The article also ignores the stresses that parents have -- this is a job I signed up for willingly and most of the time I adore it, but you can't deny that it is a tough job. Take those stresses and add them on top of the other everyday job/work bullshit you have to deal with. It's tough. I'm a stay-at-home-mom and I admire working parents for keeping their shit together.

Again, there are parents with drinking problems. Just like there's childless people with drinking problems. But a drinking problem is defined as when it starts to interfere with your ability to function in your daily routine. Having a glass of wine after the kids go down for bed, or with friends is NOT A DRINKING PROBLEM.

Also, when I joke about drinking -- IT'S A FREAKIN' JOKE. The pearl-clutching over parenting is annoying as hell. Is parenting so sacred that we can't crack a couple jokes about it? Complain about how our bosses (aka our children) drive us nuts? When we become parents, we don't lose ourselves.

And if that person likes a glass of beer or wine after the kids go to bed, there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I am toasting you right now.

Five words will be back...

2009-09-14T22:29:00.003-05:00

BUT I HAVE TO INTERRUPT TO SQUEE ABOUT THE U2 SHOW I SAW!

My friend Em, her friend Lindsay and I ventured down to see U2 open their American leg of the tour at Soldier Field. I will admit to being skeptical. We were up in the nosebleed seats and when I heard U2 claim it was going to be an "intimate" show, I was like, "Yeah. Right. Intimate among 60,000 people. Next thing you'll tell me is that the next album will be a return to Gaelic hip hop."

But they proved me wrong. It seems ostentatious, but the claw, with its 360 degree wraparound screen did make it possible for us to see the band. I think my jaw hit the floor when I saw how good our view was. I think the phrase I used was, "I think I just came," a few times. The other times I used, "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

It wasn't just a huge video screen. It did a great job convey different images and would also separate into stretch out, allowing for some beautiful abstract visuals for the songs. City of Blinding Lights was amazing as the Claw shot up a ray of light into the sky, piercing the clouds. I liked how with Unknown Caller, they took a wordy chorus and bridge and made it almost into a video game, where the words scrolled by, and every time Bono sang, the words lit up.

The visuals were also spot on for the songs. Seeing images of the recent election in Iran and the fall out for Sunday Bloody Sunday made the song's message feel more topical. The only thing that felt kind of weird to me was the Aung San Suu Kyi masks some fans wore and a group of people came onstage with them on. I'm not good with performance art, so I wasn't wild about it at all. It was weird seeing fans swilling beer and holding up those masks.

I can't say anything more about the concert, because really, it was just that much fun. It was amazing. It was fun. I danced my ass off. The remix of I'll Go Crazy (If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight) was a discotheque blast. I squeed. I met fans in mom jeans who first saw U2 at Roseland in 1987 for the Amnesty International tour. If they do a second leg, I'm there. Hopefully I can get on general admission and on the floor. But if I don't, the nosebleeds aren't terrible either.

Bono is right -- All you need is love. And a spaceship. This tour proved that.

Pass the booze

2009-09-03T19:15:00.003-05:00

"Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better." -- Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse

Or at least that's what I've been telling myself today. Today was terrible. I think we went so far past FAIL that I kept hoping we'd circle around to WIN, but it didn't work out like that today.

It was typical toddler stuff -- tantrums about putting on pants, pages torn out of a book, the dreaded "WHY?" all day and crying and screaming -- mixed with me snapping at her while she gave me a blank stare.

"Oh this? You didn't want me to do THIS?" the stare seems to say. "I thought you didn't mean that one specific instance."

I expect to become very familiar with that stare as she gets older. "OH THIS CAR? When you said, 'Take the car and you're grounded for life!' I didn't know you meant this car. I thought you meant THAT car."

And you wonder why parents drink.

There's just some days when parenting is difficult. There's the urge to scream and shake sense into this tiny sociopath who doesn't understand basic manners. But you can't. Because you're the adult. You're supposed to lead by example and being an example doesn't mean you can go, "KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF! WE DO NOT RIP BOOKS YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

Thankfully Jeff was around today (a head cold has been sweeping through our house, so none of us are doing great and he's been home sick), to bail me out. Even then it was difficult for us, because it's obvious that she's at the age where she's testing us. On occasion Jeff would give me a look as if to say, "THE HELL?" when Benevolent Dictator was acting up.

"This is my day," I told him. "Now you know why I have a glass of wine at night."

These days aren't frequent. They happen every once in awhile and they're tough. And I have to keep reminding myself that it's one day. Mr. Slinger, the teacher in Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse, was right when he said, "Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better."

I know it'll be better. But for now, I'm very glad Jeff's reading to our girl and I have the rest of the evening to watch this:

Yes. This is parenting a toddler.

Five words: Pop culture

2009-09-02T13:23:00.006-05:00

Continuing on a thread my friend gave me, here's the third word (or in this case -- WORDS. So this whole exercise should be six words, not five, but whatever. He's my dear friend and I'm willing to forgive him. THIS TIME.) he asked me to expound on: Pop Culture.

Ever since I was a kid, I've been interested on pop culture. So much so that I wanted to major in cultural studies (aka pop culture) for graduate school. It sounds pretentious, but pop culture, which can be considered trashy and terrible, is probably going to be considered art in the future. Well, not all of it. If I ever hear that Flavor of Love and its evil spawn end up in the Smithsonian, I may need to burn down a museum.

I love pop culture and art because they both reflect a place in time culturally. Not just the good, but the bad and even the ugly parts of us. I can't really sum it up more than that. That's simply the best thing I can say.

Now if you don't mind, I'm off to watch a Patrick Swayze retrospective, followed up by some Real Housewives insanity.

Monthly report: 26th month -- MINE! MINE! MINE!

2009-08-24T21:12:00.004-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

Last Friday, you turned 26 months old. And really, I can't tell a huge difference between this and last month developmentally. Except for the fact that you've discovered the word, "Mine."

"This is mine," I keep hearing you say. Even if you've just glanced at an object, you'll rip it away from another little kid and proclaim, "THIS. IS. MINE." You're starting to sound like the seagulls in Finding Nemo.

You've gotten more acrobatic. Right now it appears that your favorite way to see the world is upside-down. Many times you come to us with a wicked gleam and then ask to hold our hands. Then you climb up our legs and try and flip over. It's quite an impressive sight from someone who's less than three feet tall.

This month, you spent a lot of time with Grandma, because your parents headed off to Gen Con for some "alone" time (You'll understand the significance of that when you're older). What I thought was funny is that I warned your Grandma all about the antics that you pull with me and when we talked, she said you were a perfect angel. Which doesn't surprise me really -- you do have one hell of a public face. Either that or she was a hell of a lot happier dealing with your every whim than I can be at times.

During the time we were gone, it was also apparent that your palate skews towards what I would call comfort food. And hot dogs. But your big food obsession is tomatoes -- so much so that you're eating green ones off of the vine. So you and I are pretty similar in food tastes. I just have to remember to lessen the amount of food on your plate. While you have a varied palate, you're eating less.

One time you scared the shit out of me when you refused to eat breakfast. Apparently your toys were a hell of a lot of a more fun than breakfast. While I know on a rational level that you'd be fine and would eat when your hungry, I can't explain why the hell I started following you around outside with a container of yogurt and a spoon.

Thanks to that, I've learned one important thing -- You'll eat when you're hungry. And if you're bored with what I serve, you won't eat. Apparently you're not a big breakfast person like your parents.

I think that the biggest thing I learned from that is to follow your lead sometimes. If you don't want to go outside and play, that's alright. If you just want to take your time and put on your shoes, that's cool. And even though it can be aggravating while I tally up to-do lists in my head while you debate between the different sandals you have, when you look at me and say, "Xie, xie mumma," it makes my heart melt.

Seriously kiddo, those are the moments that make parenting worth it.

Love,

Momma

Five words: Journalism

2009-08-21T20:13:00.002-05:00

Continuing from the last post, the second word I received was journalism. First off, Journalism is a big place there buddy, like Latin. Points if you get my reference.

I have said before that in my past life, before motherhood kidnapped me, I was in journalism. It was a low-paying, long-hours job that sometimes seemed insane, but I couldn't give up because I love to write and really, it was fun at times to spin out stories with a set assignment.

That being said, I recently have had people ask me if I plan to return to freelancing or journalism any time soon. I said right now I'm on a break. Why? Because right now journalism and news media seem to be at a major crossroads and the result right now is that I'm not going to get paid.

As of July, 13,000 journalists lost their jobs. That means that there's 13,000 freelance writers that I have to compete with now. Not to mention the fact that many major blogs like the Huffington Post, expect writers to contribute for free. Which is bullshit. If they're making millions, they should be able to kick some cash down to the contributors. Pageviews don't pay the bills ya'll.

I had a little freelancing thing, but since advertising seems to have dried up in this economy, I don't see that coming anytime soon. Not to mention what I said earlier about a hell of a lot more competition. Dammit.

In addition, newspapers seem to be waking up to the fact that there's this thing call the Internet and *gasp* social media, which is messing with their news cycle. Instead of relying on major talking heads for their information, people are getting it from different areas. I think it says something when people were relying on Twitter to get news about the Iran election, whereas the major news outlets seemed to be covering Twitter covering Iran.

I think that most people are showing dissatisfaction for the current news format and the major media corporations. It says something when most people say they trust the Daily Show more than CNN. Perhaps its because we're all jaded and have a skewed view of the world. Or perhaps its that we as a people aren't happy with the way the 24-hour news cycle works, which is to drum up and make news to fill space.

All in all, right now is a tough time to be a journalist as a profession. There wasn't much money in the business in the first place, and that's drying up more. But before budding journalists start to stick their head in the oven, I have to add that this is also an interesting time.

It's uncertain, of course, much like the Tower card in a Tarot deck. I will admit I'm not sure how it will shake out in the end, but I see the major media fragmenting in a way and hopefully the rise of some more independent media.

I hope that the end result is also journalists getting paid. If journalists don't get enough money to pay the bills and cover their expenses, they will have to take other jobs or leave the industry. And as a result, there's not enough experienced journalists or enough resources to ferret out the truth in investigative journalism. And that's a damn shame, because without that, journalism is nothing but a joke.

Five words: Snark

2009-08-19T20:34:00.003-05:00

A friend of mine did a five words meme. The challenge is to expound on five words chosen by a friend that either remind them of you or are chosen are random. The words he chose, I could expound for days on, so I'm just going to do each one as a separate entry.

If anyone else is interested in this, let me know in the comments.

1.	snark	670 up, 50 down
	noun Combination of "snide" and "remark". Sarcastic comment(s). Also snarky (adj.) and snarkily (adv.) His commentary was rife with snark. "Your boundless ineptitude is astounding," she snarkily declared.

From Urban Dictionary

I'll admit. I talk a hell of a lot of trash. I like snark. I like a certain amount of bite to my words. I have a very self-deprecating sense of humor that runs dark. I believe in the Mel Brooks quote about comedy: "Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die."

However, as I've gotten older and perhaps wiser (or less willing to deal with bullshit), I've learned that people are misusing the word "snark." I think that people use it now as a shield to be an utter asshole to others and say the meanest, cruelest thing to win humor points from people (witness Internet forums). Which is a form of bullying, in my opinion.

Maybe the problem is that all of us tend to judge and speak from a position where we don't always know the whole picture. But it's so easy to make a snap judgment. And when you have people egging you on to make the craziest statement possible, it's easy to jump the line from "snark" to "complete and utter dickwad."

I guess that what I really hope for is that while we all want to be the funniest or most liked person in a room, we'd remember that sometimes using snark isn't the best way to go about doing it.

Monthy report; 25th month Insert witty title here.

2009-07-26T13:07:00.002-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Five days ago, you turned 25 months old. We are firmly enmeshed in the "Terrible two" phase, but really, I see it as preparation for when you're a teenager. I may not understand why you're so pissed off sometimes now (because of the language problems), but I get the feeling, when you're a teenager I'm still not going to get why you're pissed off sometimes.

But that's where I'll also feel sorry for your father. Right now he gets a bitchy wife when she's PMSing. Can you imagine it when we're both doing that? I am now realizing that there's a reason why men tinker in the garage, den or basement -- it's to flee their hormone-addled wives and children. Or to avoid shoes being thrown at their heads by angry teenage girls.

Where was I? Right. Twenty-five months. Even though you are prone to fits right now, I have to say that I'm also having a lot of fun with you right now. We have conversations about things -- mostly dogs, cats, trucks and the terrible ants that swarmed up your legs when you stood on an anthill. You like to play pretend and cook for me and take "sips" from my coffee cup. You also enjoyed wearing my shiny new heels and prancing around the house in my bras. I hope you never have tits as big as mine. Despite when men say, bigger is not necessarily better.

I always knew that you were aware of your emotions, but this month, you really emphasized it. You were sitting on your training potty and I made some smart remark. You started to wail (as toddlers do) and went to the door. I asked what was wrong and you said something along the lines of "(BD) angry."

"Were you hurt by what I said?" I asked.

"Yeah."

Wow. That one blows my mind. You understand your emotions and how they work. You're barely two years old. Of course, I apologized and the tears dried and everything was quickly forgotten. Which is a bonus -- you don't hold grudges like I do (you never have). Once the tears are done, everything is bright and sunny again.

Despite this emotional maturity, we're still working on some basic social etiquette. Like sharing. You don't share well at all. Whenever you want something, you saunter up to the person, grab it and get into a tug of war. Complete with screeching. For some reason it reminds me of a sale in the fashion district of New York City. More often then not, the other kid will drop it with a facial expression equivalent to: "DUDE. OK! I DIDN'T WANT IT THAT BAD ANYWAY!"

You're also getting frightfully savvy with technological devices. You've successfully erased several apps from my iPod (yes, you play with it. I don't mind and apparently Hiya Beautiful doesn't mind being molested by sticky fingers as well) and enjoyed playing with a neighbor's Nintendo DS. You've also successfully killed one of your father's characters on the Conan MMO. I suspect it will be soon before you're fragging n00bs on Team Fortress.

If so, I will be proud to sponsor you for professional gaming. After all, college isn't cheap.

Love,

Momma

OMG! MORE ESTROGEN!

2009-07-15T13:21:00.002-05:00

Just got word that my little sister gave birth to her third child! WHEE! No name as of yet, but I think that my nephew had the best name: Potato Chip.

Ode to Julia Child

2009-07-05T13:55:00.002-05:00

The first thing you think of when you hear the name "Julia Child" is that voice -- warbling, high-pitched -- it's what you imagine fussy looking chickens sounding like if they could talk. The second thing is the fact that the woman cooked French food, which, if you are not French, seems like a terrifying thing to do.

Or at least, that's was my thought before I began reading some of her cookbooks, her memoir "My Life in France" and seeing the trailers for Julie and Julia (in which, Meryl Streep looks like she's having way too much fun as Julia Child). Now I have to give the woman props for her writing and for being a role model for many women.

In the next few weeks, there will be many articles about Julia Child (hell, this month's Vanity Fair has a great summary of her life) popping up in support of the movie. In a quick summary:

Very tall middle class girl from California, instead of getting married as is the norm in the 1930s, goes off to help serve in the war. During which time, she ends up working for the OSS (perhaps as a spy, which is even cooler), meets her soulmate and eventually they fall in love in China amongst good food and interesting times.

After the war, the couple moves to France (he to work in government) and she finds her passion in cooking. She helps friends with a cookbooks, which after bouncing from publisher to publisher, gets published and the rest is history.

That's some of it, but really, what's inspirational is that she didn't find her life's passion until after 40. She bucked the norm at the time (which was to get your Mrs. degree and become a housewife) and married late in her 30s -- which was considered being a spinster back then.

While cooking has been derided by some feminists in the past as an overly "domestic" activity (the old image of a woman, barefoot and pregnant while chained to the stove), you can't deny that Child's legacy is an inspiration for many women. It's a reminder that we can find, pursue and succeed at our life's passion, no matter the age.

In an age where youth is king and there's the idea that you have to have your life figured out and on that track soon after graduating from college, it's nice to know that isn't always the recipe for happiness or success. Sometimes we need time to figure out what to do and maybe, by then, we'll have the drive to pursue it to the desired fullness.

As I wander into my 30s as a mother and wife, it's inspiring to know that whatever is out there waiting for me, I still can grab and seize it. Time hasn't passed me by. If Julia Child didn't find her passion until her 30s and 40s, then I think that there's still plenty of time for me. It's just a matter of finding the right spark and setting it on fire.

Doing time

2009-07-04T19:44:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Jeff and I celebrated 10 years of marriage. Hooray! We beat Jon and Kate and we don't have eight kids or a TV show!

When we mention to people who have just met us that we've been together for 10 years (14 including dating and such), they're always amazed. The funny thing is that most of the time, I'm not. I know his family. The men in his family are not about "I have to go find myself/afraid of commitment/need to make sure you're my soulmate." None of that. If they find someone they love, that's it. They propose, the woman accepts and there is marriage. These are very steadfast men in their devotion to their wives.

But sometimes I'm amazed more in the way of, "HOW THE HELL DO YOU PUT UP WITH MY ASS?" Seriously -- my neurotic, guilty-pleasure TV watching, opposite music taste, tempestuous, defensive, angry, passive-aggressive ass? At my worst (which he has seen), I am not a nice person. Whole cities lie in rubble of my destruction. And he's been the target sometimes. Yet he still loves me and sticks with me.

It is a strange thing to realize that someone loves you for all your faults, and also refuses to see/acknowledge them. In the past, when I asked what he loved the most about me, he'd say, "Viv." Which is a maddening answer, when you want specifics. But the older I get, the more I understand.

He loves everything. Not in a singularity, but everything that makes up the person as the package. Jeff has said the same thing about Benevolent Dictator. It's impressive to think about sometimes.

And I realize this in the wake of our adventure at Restaurant Muramoto. I hoped he would like it. I wanted him to like it. In all honesty, I had about 3/4 of our dinner. He didn't have as much. I felt guilty until he told me that part of the pleasure of dinner was seeing me have so much fun. Of course, after we saw Public Enemies (aka: BALE/DEPP CHEEKBONE-OFF!), he couldn't stop talking about a bacon pizza and turtle sundae.

But you know what? If a man can get that much pleasure out of watching me have fun at a meal he's meh with, then I think that's a wonderful thing. I love that man. For everything about him -- when I am happy with him and when I want to rip him a new one. He's a good man and I'm one lucky woman to have him.

Of course, he's also damn lucky to have a woman who puts up with his video games, odd Viking metal love, ramblings and the fact that he can't seem to find the hamper to save his life.

Happy 10th anniversary love. I'm willing to do life with you.

The King of Pop is Dead...

2009-06-25T23:02:00.003-05:00

Disclaimer right now: I am not a huge Michael Jackson fan. I don't own any of his CD's or songs. I hated Thriller when I was a girl of 8 and everyone else was like, "OMG! HE'S THE BEST!". I have the same mindset of Bono regarding Michael Jackson songs -- if you imagine that they're in a different language, it's some of the best music you've ever heard. I also always though Janet was the coolest Jackson.

However, that doesn't mean that I can deny the great impact that man left on music and popular culture. He broke the color barrier on MTV, ushering in other acts like Run DMC. The Jackson 5 is the original boy band. Justin Timberlake, Usher and other artists like them owe Michael Jackson for their moves and singing styles.

I am not bummed, but more surprised with the news of his death. Admittedly, I thought it was an attention ploy -- much like the recent tabloid events that have occurred. Jackson had become a punchline to a joke in my mind (and admittedly other people -- even Lewis Black said so). I didn't expect this. In a way, I expected him to live on until 80 or 90, looking freakishly unaged (similar to Liza Minelli).

But he is dead. And while I may not have been a fan, I can appreciate the impact he left. He made interesting music videos, he was an amazing dancer (I wondered for YEARS how he did the lean in Smooth Criminal) and while I didn't care for his music, you can see how it influenced many artists today. For that, I have respect for the man.

RIP Michael.

This is my favorite video of his:

Monthy Newsletter: 24th month: And lo, there was a toddler!

2009-06-20T20:53:00.002-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Tomorrow you turn two years old. Today was a birthday party with family and some friends. But I think that the biggest hit of all at the party wasn't the chocolate cake that was more dense than a black hole, but the water table. Your cousins loved it, you loved it and the neighborhood kids loved it. Your pretty party dress, was soaking wet by the end. Not that I'm sad about it.

I think the rule for a good party is the following: It's not really a good party if you come back completely clean and pristine. So in that case, it's was a VERY successful party.

I'm sorry I didn't do an update for the 23rd month. I have no excuse other than being tired and old. But no matter what, you still amaze me. What strikes me the most is your confidence. Even though you can be shy in new situations and need me around, after a few minutes you dive right in and get your hands dirty. You charm people with your smiles and your extroversion.

I was even amazed by how charming you were with the doctor for your two-year checkup and how sweet you were with the nurse. The nurse, who you saw once and burst out into tears because you knew she was the lady who gave you shots.

But you're running to me for reassurance when things don't go your way sometimes. Case in point: We went out for lunch two times with friends. Both those times our friends GENTLY admonished you for one reason or another. Both those times your face crumpled and you started sobbing into my shoulder. Now a good mother would've comforted you. What did I do?

"Quick! Let's talk now! She's quiet! We can get words in!"

If it's not clear already, you are a little chatterbox. You're doing three word sentences like, "(BD) do this," "Momma do this," "(BD) chase rabbit!" Also, when your father and I are involved in conversations you like to yell and add to the conversation. Which can be hard sometimes, especially when your interjection is, "KOALA!"

Sometimes it's hard with you. You have an iron will and a steadfastness that can steamroll through anything. Sometimes the temper tantrums wear me down as well as your constant need to have me bow to your whims. On those days, I joke about needing a stiff drink.

Whenever people have said they were thinking about kids, I'd steal a line from Dooce that was basically, "DO YOU LIKE SLEEP?" if they said yes, my reply was, "REFILL YOUR BIRTH CONTROL."

But then you'll say thanks for the new crib sheets. Or just run to me going, "HI! HI! HI!" and give me a hug. Then there's the moments where we're laying in bed together reading books. Or like today, when you were giggling madly and splashing water everywhere. Those are the moments where I want to tell those people, just find the right person, get a kid one way or another and have fun.

The past two years have been work. They've been emotionally hard sometimes. But they've also been some of the sweetest times I've had. And I have to tell you that no matter what, I will always be honored to be your mother.

Love,

Momma

HOOOOTTTTIIIIEEEESSS IIIINNNNN SSSPPPPAAAAACCCCEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-06-08T12:53:00.001-05:00

Long ago, K. once wrote an essay that worked out a basic premise: In Lord of the Rings, there is a type of man for every woman. Plain and simple. You like sensitive, rugged, manly? Aragorn. Manly, rugged, angsty? Boromir. Sensitive, rugged, but with daddy issues? Faramir. Drunk and possibly stoned? Merry and Pippin.

And so on and so on. Admittedly, after seeing the Star Trek movie a couple weeks ago, K.'s theory was in my mind. In essence, Star Trek has every type of guy for every girl -- only in space. Where no one can hear you scream (which lets you be as loud as you want I guess). So here's my view:

For those of you who like your men cocky, brash, arrogant, yet somehow a good leader and charismatic as hell, there's Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

Emotionally unavailable, but when you get to know him, he's one kettle of roiling passion with some mama and mixed racial identity issues? Spock's your man. Good luck getting to him though.

Cranky, divorced and cynical with a blunt tongue? Slightly paranoid about what could go wrong, but amazingly smart when it comes to medicine and a quick thinker on his toes, not to mention, a loyal friend? Who doesn't love Bones?

Experimental engineer who deals well with both theory and practical application? Quick with a quip? Scotty!

Mourning the loss of loved ones, has a dark side with a heaping helping of vengeful behaviors? Perhaps you can soothe Nero's troubled brow.

In need of a good father figure? There's always Captain Pike.

Do you like them young, boyish and with Russian accents? Chekov.

AND THE ASIAN GUY! SULU! (Seriously, John Cho needs more to do in the future.)

So which girl are you? I've figured now that I'm pretty much in the Bones/Scotty camp.

Because I haven't done one in awhile....

2009-05-30T13:34:00.002-05:00

and also because it amused me:

1. Do you like bleu cheese?
Yes. It is stinky, but oh so flavorful.

2. Have you ever been drunk?
Does a vampire sparkle?

3. Do you own a gun?
No. Own lots of swords, knives and armor though. So I'll be fine when the zombies attack.

4. What do you like to do on weekends?
Sleep in, which is rare, listen to "Wait, Wait" on NPR, drink coffee and chase the child around. In short, what I do everyday.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?
No. I just will always hate the indignity of the pap smear.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
Oh hot dog!/How do I love thee?/Let me count the ways./I love thee covered in ketchup/slathered in mustard/and perhaps in a poppyseed bun/I love thee in the Puka Dog, Chicago style or plain, but never undone/Sing lo! The praises of the hot dog!

Yes. I love hot dogs.

7. Favorite Christmas movie?
Christmas Story or Scrooged.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
Coffee. Cream. Two cups. As soon as humanly possible.

9. Can you do push ups?
I can wear a push-up bra, does that count?

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
My wedding ring.

11. Favorite hobby?
Reading, writing, cooking, gaming, dancing, being a pervert, conquering small nations and singing badly.

12. Favorite novel?
That's like asking me to choose my favorite kid and we can't have that can we?

13. What's your favorite shoe?
None. I iz hobbit.

14. What is your middle name?
Before or after marriage?

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment?
I should be outside weeding.
My feet are cold.
I wonder if this meme will be amusing.

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink.
Coffee
Green tea
Water

17. Current worry?
Superficial: Whether I will be able to weed this weekend. Deeper: Money. Mo money, mo problems.

18. Current hate right now?
Allergies.

20. How did you bring in the New Year?
Watched the Dark Knight, went to bed at 11:30.

21. Where would you like to go?
France, England, Taiwan

22. Name three people who will complete this:
Hextor, Heironeous and Olidammara. Oh wait...did you mean people I know?

23. Do you own slippers?
Yep. Never wear them though. I suspect BD's run off with them to use them as boats or beds for her toys.

24. What color shirt are you wearing right now?
Brown

25. Do you like sleeping on Satin sheets?
I haven't, but I'd imagine you'd slide right off of them.

26. Can you whistle?
Yes.

27. Favorite colors?
Red.

28. Would you be a pirate?
What makes you think I'm not one right now?

29. What songs do you sing in the shower?
This one:

30. Favorite Girl's Names?
BD's name, Lyra, Athena

31. Favorite boy's names?
Aleric, Elijah (which I can never use), Jack

32. What's in your pocket right now?
No pockets right now. I'm wearing yoga pants.

33. Last thing that made you laugh?
BD running back and forth between Jeff and I, clad only in diapers, giggling madly as we gave her hugs.

34. Favorite summer activities?
Walking around with BD, going to the zoo, grilling and sitting at the lake with a friend.

35. Worst injury you've ever had?
Knocking my two front teeth out at age 10. I figure giving birth isn't technically an injury, but the C-Section scar is pretty cool.

36. Do you love where you live?
Yes. My family is here. My heart is here.

37. Who is your loudest friend?
Hrm. I'd say K. and Sid. With love. When we get together the decibels go up.

39. How many dogs do you have?
Sadly none. Anyone want to loan us a dog to clean up under the high chair?

40. Does someone have a crush on you?
I suspect Jeff. But he's married to me, so I don't know if that counts.

41. What is something you are really looking forward to?
Going outside and perhaps doing some weeding.
Playing with BD.
Getting to try on two dressed I ordered online.

42. What is one thing you do several times a week?
Change diapers.

43. What song do you want sung at your Funeral?
I know it's sappy, but this:

Or Queens' "Another One Bites the Dust."

44. Name something or someone you love.
My family.

Jon and Kate plus Hate

2009-05-26T12:52:00.003-05:00

Well. Watching the premiere of Jon and Kate Plus Eight last night was about as comfortable as having dinner with George and Martha. I don't even know how to summarize it up except that it's depressing as hell. Basically it's 75 minutes of watching a marriage implode thanks to a bunch of different things.

For the record, I'm not on the parents' team. I'm on "Team Get The Kids Out Of There And Into Something Mentally Healthier."

But the whole thing got me reflecting on when parents would toss out the tired, "Kids make your relationship stronger," cliche. Yes, kids can make your relationship stronger (because if you don't team up, the kids will tear the house down), but they can also rip a couple apart.

I remember sitting in my mommy-baby group hearing mothers talk about how their relationship with their husbands changed. I heard about the strain and how one considered divorce. Adjusting to Benevolent Dictator in our lives was also hard on Jeff and me.

A baby is like a small, adorable, cooing, cuddly hand grenade. They will rip apart everything you know and hold dear without prejudice. Doesn't matter if you love your husband and your family. Thanks to sleep deprivation, adjusting to a new squalling life, changing identities and doing this while under the gun, neither parent will be seeing the best of the other. It's a fact.

Not to mention, a baby gives parents reason to distract themselves from the stresses in a marriage that may have already been there. It's easy to slip into auto-pilot and not talk to your spouse. It's easy to let things go to neglect.

While the impact without kids may not be that bad -- after all, if you split up, it's only the two of you -- with kids its worse. They do sense when things aren't going well. They can sense the weird energies in a room when their parents aren't necessarily fighting, but they're not getting along. Not to mention, divorce is a hell of a lot messier and you are still stuck with your ex thanks to the kids. No shipping the ex off to some unknown island where you never see them again.

I don't think it's a matter of how long you're married before the kids come onto the scene. I think it's a matter of whether or not you can communicate and trust your partner, as well as address potential issues that will get worse when a kid is around.

Maybe that's the best piece of advice I have for people who want children. Make sure that you as a couple are strong. Make sure you talk to each other. Make sure you work through the tough patches and come to resolutions. Because if you don't, a kid isn't going to make anything better anytime soon.

Turning over a new something or other....

2009-05-25T13:01:00.002-05:00

For the past couple of weeks, I have not been sleeping well. I'd wake up groggy, stumble through the morning (with much assistance from coffee), crash for a nap when Benevolent Dictator went down, got up groggy and stumbled through the day until evening, when I'd be up putzing around until about midnight.

Which is not how one should do things as a parent. Especially the parent of an acrobatic toddler who will exploit any weakness she can to wreak havoc around the house.

So today, I'm attempting to get my nap addiction under control. What used to be a delightful respite once or twice a week has gotten out of control. And hopefully, by doing this, I can also get some writing done. It sounds strange, but I think I need to write more. I need to exercise my literary muscles, or else they get flabby and I suddenly am not sharp as I once was. You know, to point where I'm sitting on my ass watching Sandra Lee and thinking, "The woman has some bright ideas!"

Thankfully, it hasn't gotten that far. Sandra Lee is still the culinary equivalent of Nickelback.

Anyways, to kick off this attempt at writing exercise, I wanted to address this:

I will admit, I HOWLED with the "Who's the father?" line and the "Bitch." But it also kind of stung as a formerly pregnant woman. Maybe it's that I've been seeing stuff like STFU, Parents and a rather long article talking about women and their Facebook profiles, which feature status updates of their kids and pictures of their kids for user icons.

First off, if you have access to my Twitter updates, you'll see I talk about Benevolent Dictator A LOT. I'll 'fess up to it. Because really, that's my job. People will talk about the thing that occupies their life the most and for me, that's a nearly-two diva that sprung forth from my uterus. If you knew me beforehand, I talked about my job a lot. Or how tired I was.

But I can switch up the topic to something else. I can talk about bad reality television, music, politics, cooking, animals and horror stories. I'll even expound on how with the new Star Trek movie, it's like Lord of the Rings in that there's every type of man for every type of woman -- only this time IIINNNNN SSSSPPPPAAAACCCCCEEE!

To simply assume that I'm a brain-dead twit or that all parents lose themselves to their children because of a handful of status updates is a bit much. If I did that, I'd assume that most of the people I've seen on the public Twitter timeline are drunken geeks who love to follow celebs, eat and gossip.

And as for the "Pregnant Women are Smug," I will also confess that I used the cliches when confronted with "Do you want a boy or a girl?" Because seriously, I heard that question about five billion times. And I got sick of it as well as people who insisted on pressing the issue. You're lucky I didn't say, "Right now I want you to SHUT THE FUCK UP."

I mean, you wouldn't get up in someone's face with "Why aren't you married? No really. Why aren't you married? Do you hate men/women? Do you fear commitment?" So why do people feel they can get up in a parent's face and press matters regarding development, pregnancy, parenting styles, etc.?

There are mothers who are that smug, I assume. Admittedly, I've never met them, or I have a high tolerance for people who suffer from the asshat syndrome. I've met more parents where I wanted to talk about something other than my children, but was unable to because the topic kept returning to the wee beasties. I tend to think that I do that and other parents do that because kids tend to be the safest topic to talk about among people you don't know very well. And with friends, well, if you're going to ask me how I'm doing or how the kids are, don't be surprised if I tell you.

I guess what I don't understand is the vitriol behind all of this. Yes, having kids is no big deal and may not warrant some of the fawning that occurs. But cripes, who the hell are these people hanging out with and why haven't they reevaluated their relationship with these folks? If you wouldn't put up with this from a parent, why would you put up with this from anyone else?

Pretty pretty princesses with bad attitudes

2009-05-24T22:00:00.005-05:00

"Smile for the Camera" by Brianna Garcia.

Before I had children, I said that I didn't want my kids exposed to the Disney Princess monolith. I didn't care for the fact that the majority were white, sweet, nice and subservient in their baby pink frocks. I didn't care that the majority of the story was about falling in love and getting the man of their dreams.

But it's hard to avoid the Princess monolith when you have a baby girl. It's like trying to avoid the color pink, dresses or sparkles (Not that there's anything wrong with pink and sparkly dresses. I will say Benevolent Dictator has gotten me in touch with my girlier side, which is kind of fun). The more you attempt to avoid it, the more your child will gravitate towards it.

We tried man. We tried. Then we got this:

This is not the Disney Princesses I approve of.

It is one of the books that I'm trying to "lose". I hate that I don't want to read this book to her, but it's seriously pissing me off. The worst story is the one with Ariel and her first day as a human and running into Prince Eric. Who is obsessed with finding Ariel, yet takes this mute stranger out on a (basically) a date and can't stop talking about this hot singing chick that rescued him.

Admittedly, both Jeff and I have been open in our dislike for this book, telling BD, "Eric is sending mixed messages and talking about some other girl in front of his guest." Or I end up in my head putting everything through a gangsta filler. In my head of course.

I think that for me, there's been way cooler heroines than Sleeping Beauty, Belle, Snow White, Ariel and the sparkly lot. From Disney I prefer Alice, Lilo and Sitch, Mulan (GO GIRL!), Wendy from Peter Pan (even though the "Why is the Red Man Red?" song truly offends me. As well as the fact that Tinkerbell -- the current symbol of girly attitude -- is a HEINOUS BITCH in Peter Pan), even Jane from Peter Pan 2 and others.

Outside of Disney, there's Fanta-Ghiro, Pippi Longstocking, the eldest princess from the 12 Dancing Princesses, Puss n' Boots and tons of others. None of these characters are seeking true love. They're looking for adventure, fun, keeping the family together or even a good party.

I think what bothers me more is if the only literary diet BD has is "pretty princess rescued by princes", for obvious reasons. Which is why I'm trying to fight the tide of pink princess sparkles. I'm willing to tolerate sparkles and dresses (BD as of late has been doing, "CUTE! DRESS! CUTE! BOY! EEEEW! BOYS!" so I figure that we're going to have pink sparkles in our future), but I also like the fact that she's also obsessed with "boy" stuff like pirates, dinosaurs, lizards, bugs, swords and insane climbing stunts.

I guess that no matter what, I want her to know that being a girl doesn't exclude her from doing what she likes to do. There's nothing that's assigned to the "boy" or "girl" bin. She can do whatever she wants, be it among a flock of girls or a pack of boys.

I hope that in the best case scenario, there's BD dressed in pink, with combat boots, battling the neighborhood boys with light sabers. That's when I will smile and say, "That's MY GIRL!"

I think this picture says it all:

2009-05-17T19:33:00.004-05:00

I had a goal to write. I have grist for the mill kicking around in my head. Then today decided to be a big day of SUCK. How did it suck?

1. Benevolent Dictator went on a rampage of destruction. She ripped one page out of a book and later that day, deleted my Twitterfon app off my iPod. She's also been a clingy howler monkey and apparently no one can handle her EPIC needs like wiping her face, changing her diaper and giving her a sippy cup except for me.

2. I didn't sleep well last night, so I've spent most of today in a tired haze. Being tired reduces my patience for the typical two-year-old bullshit I've been dealing with today. I've been cussing, yelling and in general, being a bad mother. I'm tired and pissed off.

3. My laptop has been crashing pretty much all the damn time these past two days. When it goes into screensaver mode, the entire system freezes. I have no idea if it's because of this software I had downloaded to change my backgrounds, the Tivo wireless software or what. I've run disk check and am now doing virus scans.

My laptop is pretty much my only computer, so this pisses me off, because effectively, I'm without a computer.

That's what happened today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. Right now I'm getting myself a big-ass glass of sangria and praying for salvation.

No. I refuse to say "nuclear wessels."

2009-05-14T08:49:00.001-05:00

Your results:
You are Chekov

Chekov		80%
Deanna Troi		75%
Geordi LaForge		60%
James T. Kirk (Captain)		55%
Mr. Scott		55%
Beverly Crusher		55%
Will Riker		55%
An Expendable Character (Redshirt)		55%
Uhura		50%
Worf		45%
Mr. Sulu		40%
Spock		37%
Leonard McCoy (Bones)		35%
Jean-Luc Picard		30%
Data		27%

Brash, rash and hasty,
but everyone loves you.

Click here to take the "Which Star Trek character are you?" quiz...

Mothers' Day: What mom's really want...

2009-05-10T19:51:00.004-05:00

I wish I was that cool.

Anyways, today was a decent Mother's Day. Got to sleep in late (which is always a treat -- sometimes better than sex) and go out to lunch with my friend Enich at Sushi Muramoto's. We were contemplating Crank 2, but well....I will confess that eating a lot of food and drinking two cocktails kind of put a dent in those plans.

As an aside: I know that Crank was terrible. I trust K.'s taste and the sex scene even squicked me out. But then I saw The Stranger's review of it, which was AMAZING. Seriously. Go read it. It made me want to see what kind of movie can elicit that kind of reaction out of a reviewer.

Admittedly, it was nice to get a few hours away from the house and away from my kid. While she's a lot of fun to go out with and very sweet, there's something to be said about having a meal in a civilized restaurant where you don't have to worry about food, utensils, dishes, water, napkins, tablecloths, straws, ice and other random objects being flung about. Or having to use the "Look. At. Me. Stop. Acting. Like. This. Food. Will. Be. Here. Soon." voice through gritted teeth.

It was also wild seeing families with their children all dressed up eating out. I think that someday, when BD is older, I can see taking her out for sushi. Just not today.

I think that sometimes when the stereotypical picture of Mother's Day is that the mother wants to be surrounded by the family. Honestly (and maybe this applies more to mothers of small children), my idea Mother's Day was to get some alone time. Let me mark this day by getting some time to myself where I don't have to scream, "NO! GET DOWN FROM THERE! DON'T MAKE ME COUNT TO FIVE!"

Monthly report: 22nd month: And this is how lies begin

2009-04-22T19:41:00.003-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Yesterday, you turned 22 months old. And the past month has been one filled with milestones -- we visited your Aunt Stella and family in New York state, you learned how to climb the VERY TALL chain ladder to our neighbor's playground (as well as go down the slide), sit on a grown-up swing by yourself and a host of other amazing things.

But the one that sticks in my mind right now is from my perspective. This month, is the first time your father and I told a lie to your face. Now before you go running into therapy saying that we never loved you and that your entire life was a sham, let me say that this lie maybe be true, but the cynic in me says the odds are pretty bad.

Then again, Susan Boyle surprised the hell out of all of us who expect our singers to look like supermodels, so anything is truly possible.

It started one rainy day when you saw a beetle in our house. You were so excited and immediately asked your father what "THAT" was. Daddy told you what it was, and added that he would try and take the beetle outside, where it belonged.

Well, you loved the beetle the first time you laid your eyes on it. You were waving and yelling, "HI! HI!" at it as your father got a napkin and attempted to marshal it onto the napkin to take it outside.

Unfortunately, the beetle didn't realize that's what your father was intending to do. Instead of marching onto the napkin and then outside to freedom, the beetle panicked and then fell down an air vent.

"Beetle?" you asked your father.

"Well, the beetle didn't know what I was doing, so it jumped down the air vent," your father said, in an attempt to stick to the truth.

"BEETLE?" you yelled down the air vent.

And this is where the lie began. "I'm sure he's fine," your daddy said. "I think he might be trying to find a way to escape."

Admittedly, I thought your concern over the beetle would only last a few minutes, but nope. For the past few days, you've been asking, "DADDY? BEETLE?" as if to verify that your father and I are telling a consistent story.

And this is where I feel like a shit. My 22-month-old daughter is asking me what happened to the beetle and instead of giving her the odds-accurate answer of, "Well, chances are good he's dead," I'm giving you the craziest, biggest answer.

Yes, it is possible that the beetle survived. Yes, it's possible that the beetle found a way out of the house via one of our many air vents. The odds of that? Not great. But again, possible. And maybe that's the whole lesson in this. We all know sometimes that the odds are great of something happening (see Susan Boyle, Jamaican bobsledders, etc.) , but they do happen.

I suppose that in this case, I don't want to squash that sense of hope. You're too young to be a jaded cynic. Hell, I think most of us are too young to be jaded cynics. Cynicism is something that we slip into too easily when we feel defeated and tired. There's always a chance for success and you never know what will happen unless you go for it.

Love,

Momma

Forget the Fail Whale, has anyone seen the shark yet?

2009-04-18T13:14:00.004-05:00

After much kicking and screaming, I finally joined Twitter last year. The primary reason for this was the fact that many of my friends (both near and far) had accounts and I always liked to see what they were up to.

I'll admit, I soon got addicted to it. With 140 characters, I don't feel guilty for writing something small like, "Ate ham sandwich for lunch," or "Child is running around pantsless." I don't see this as necessarily deep thoughts or thoughts that require a longer piece in my blog, but instead, they're like little snippets of life -- a little glimpse into an exact moment and what I was feeling and doing at the time. And that's what I expected from my friends, and got it. I love that part of Twitter -- I enjoy seeing what my friends are up to (mundane or not) and what's in their head at that moment.

I also love that some newspapers have gotten into it and are using it to publicize or offer their headlines of news articles. It's a quick and easy way to peruse the news and if something looks interesting, click on the link and read more about the article.

But what I don't like is the celebrity culture now invading Twitter and basically announcing, "HERE I AM MY MINIONS! WORSHIP ME!" like when Ashton Kutcher challenged CNN to a race to one million followers. Or when Oprah issued her first Twitter on her show. Or hearing about ghostwriters for celebs. Seriously. For 140 characters.

There are celebs that I do follow -- I happen to find Neil Gaiman, Russell Brand, Adam Savage and Grant Imahara very interesting and funny. They allow a little glimpse into their lives and some nice, nerdy commentary.

The other ones I follow are because I'm fans of theirs. But I'm starting to find that I'm becoming less enamoured with them. Take Donnie Wahlberg for example (SORRY CHRISTINA! I GOTTA SAY IT!). I'm starting to notice a lot of his twitterings are basically inspirational sayings that more annoy me than make me smile. I also don't enjoy hearing about how many followers he has or how many more he wants to have. It kind of wrecks the intimacy that I feel like Twitter should have -- what's going on in the moment and what is exactly going on in your head at that time.

But I'll still follow him. Because he's one of my first crushes (Puberty. It's a hell of a drug.) and really, because at 140 characters, if I'm not in the mood to check it out, I can easily skip over it. And maybe that's the whole point of Twitter -- we can fashion it to what we want it to be. I'll stick with it because I like seeing what my friends are up to, reading news headlines and even seeing an occasional insane rant from some interesting celebs.

I just don't want to feel like I'm back in high school where it didn't matter the quality of your friends, but the quantity. That's where I'm drawing a line.

So where the hell have I been?

2009-04-15T20:04:00.003-05:00

Sorry about the outage for the past couple of weeks. I've been busy with work (real paid work, not just working as Benevolent Dictator's minion). Not to mention, I spent last week visiting my sister and her family in upstate New York. It was a good time with the family and surrounded by short ones. Perhaps one of the biggest perks was seeing the kids tear around the house looking for Easter eggs.

But I won't deny the fact that I'm glad to be home. I really missed Jeff, sleeping in my own bed and the various things associated with being home. I learned on this trip that my daughter's superhero power is that she's an empath -- she takes all negative energy (sadness, anger, whatever) and directs it into a sonic scream that can shatter glass. I think that she beat me to the Lion's Roar:

Kung Fu Hustle - Lion's Roar | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

I think she's going to seriously kick my ass if this keeps up.

Monthly report: 21st month -- Future advice

2009-03-28T19:17:00.002-05:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

Last Saturday, you turned 21 months old. If that was years, you'd be old enough to drink. And get disapproving looks from your parents about that beer bong you did, the picture that was taken and the fact that you posted it on the latest social networking thing. Don't be surprised if I join that thing (Facebook? Twitter? Cerebral implants?) just to lecture you about how silly it is to put that online for EVERYONE to see and it wouldn't kill you to call your old mom and dad once in awhile to let us know you're alive.

Anyways, you spent that day with Po Po and Nai Nai while your dear mum whooped it up with her friends K., Sid, Christina, R. and others in Chicago doing Karaoke. I'd be lying if I said I was really beat up and depressed about leaving you behind. I did miss you, and as my friends can attest, I talked about you A LOT. But pine? Not really.

I do love you dearly and would gladly step in front of a bus to save your life (Well, maybe not gladly, but I would do it), but one thing you will learn as you grow older is that good friends are essential to a sane and happy life. Your father is one of my good friends. But sometimes, you need good friends who you can tell bawdy tales to that feature the love of your life.

You've met K. before and forced her to read books to you. She's been my friend for about 10 years now and important one. It's important to keep your good friends around. Multiple places for advice (besides family) is important. It pains me to type this, but sometimes what I think is best for you may not be the right thing for you. Thus, several trusted sources to offer you advice and put your ego in check are valuable.

I see that now with you as you start to realize that other short people are around who may have the same interests as you. Or at least the toys that you want to take from them. Right now it's more of battling between the different kids as you realize that despite what everyone tells you and what you may thing, YOU ARE NOT THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE.

Fortunately, you seem to be taking it in stride. You do share with others and enjoy people's company. You are empathetic, asking me at times if I'm happy or sad. And when I answer honestly and say sad, you give me hugs, which is very sweet. You also have a rather odd crush on one of our friends who is a college student and quite tall and not terrible looking.

I hope you will always remain this happy and composed when things don't go your way. Even though at times you do get upset when something is taken away from you or people hurt you, you're quick to recover, which is nice.

The other day I was talking with one of the neighborhood kids as we walked around and she was telling me about how she gets teased sometimes and how it hurt. In a way, it felt like I was prepping for the future. I told her basically the same thing I will tell you: "Not everyone will like you. And that's alright. The key is to be able to not give those people the power to make you feel bad."

And also, don't forget that you have people who love you very much and will always stand by you and offer good support. To hell with the haters. With good friends and family, you'll be able to rise up over anything.

Love,

Momma

Social media -- turning the entire world into one high school.

2009-03-11T12:59:00.004-05:00

Over the past day, I've been watching the momblogosphere explode. Long story short, someone wrote something critical about another blogger, that blogger's fans rose up and fired back and as a result, both blogs (and Twitter) exploded in a war that no one except the bloggers' fans will care about.

I'm not even going to get into the issues, or my thoughts about the whole sorry mess. I'll admit to being slightly addicted to it (which is probably why I should go out and get away from the computer for a bit), because it's amazing watching grown-ass adults flip their shit out and start acting like high schoolers.

Now, there are reasonable people on both sides with interesting viewpoints, but I'm amazed how people think that the Internet is license to show your ass. Grown-ass women who are mothers. Who probably tell their kids to be nice and then act all crazy online.

Admittedly, this got me thinking about social media like Twitter and blogs. While some blogs and Twitters are fun to read because they're family and friends (and make long distances seem not so terrible) or they're just amusing writers, it CAN make everything devolve into high school bullshit. After all, the Internet brings us all close and now we can do the "OOOOH! Did you see what X wrote about you?" to someone we hardly know. And apparently, people forget that ANYONE can see this stuff and then are all surprised when word gets around (much like high school gossip).

I'm basically witnessing the equivalent of a burn book -- both sides are snarky and mean-spirited towards each other and hitting post before thinking straight. What's more amusing to me is knowing that these people basically have put their names on this bullshit. What if someone looks up your Twitter and sees you ranting about another person, or calling them names? It might be excusable for a high-school kid (I mean, who hasn't done stupid shit in high school), but a grown-ass adult? Applying for a job? Do these people not realize that if it's on the Internet for the world to see, you can't take this back? That it's the equivalent of taking piss out of a public pool? Do you want this to be what people remember you by?

I know I've said in the past that you can't regulate civility online (by that, I mean you can't create laws or rules for it). But that doesn't mean a person has to devolve online. If we demand civility when we see people face to face, why not extend that courtesy when we post to our blog or comment online?

Lord. Have we lost all our damn minds in the race to be the funniest online? Because the prize for being the snarkiest isn't anything great. You're just an Internet celebrity. And an Internet celebrity pays in Internet dollars and gets you into the hottest Internet clubs.

In other words, it ain't worth shit.

Shoutout to K. -- I'm curious to see your thoughts on this whole mess. Tell me what you think, because I'm starting to think that social media on a wide scale is crap if it means everyone can get up in your business, have an opinion or show their ass all over the place.

AND ANUDDER THING -- WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH ALL THE TWITTER SPAMMERS? If this is what social media is about -- instant requests for friends from people you've never heard of, automatic friend acceptance to someone you've NEVER even talked to or getting spam all over the damn place -- you're never seeing my ass on Facebook or that ilk. If I don't know you, I don't want your friend request. Shove off.

Man. This topic is making me salty.

EEEEEEEE!!!!! U2! U2! EXTREME EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!

2009-03-10T19:21:00.002-05:00

So U2 released their 12th studio album last week, called No Line on the Horizon. Obviously I downloaded it promptly on iTunes and have been playing it pretty much all the time around the house (Much to Benevolent Dictator's consternation. She doesn't care for the new single Get On Your Boots, despite the fact that her mother loves it).

Well, I've been alternating it with the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack from Youtube, so yes, things are getting weird musically around here. But that's how we do.

Anyway, it took me a little bit to figure out the new album. It's not something that gave me an immediate gut reaction like How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. To me, No Line on the Horizon is a little more challenging, and that's a pretty good thing.

Even though the first single "Get On Your Boots" is a nice hard rocking tune, the rest of the album doesn't have that fast-paced sound to it. Instead, it feels a bit meditative, mixing the spiritual issues with modern day. "Moment of Surrender," reminds me a bit of "Playboy Mansion" from Pop with its references to ATM machines and the search for redemption.

"Unknown Caller," also plays with the modern and the spiritual using shouted lines like "Force Quit/And Move to Trash." While that can veer into pretentiousness, that, mixed with rest of the song creates this evocative image of someone wrestling with faith and spirituality as modern life goes whizzing by at the speed of the Internet.

Sonically, this album is a different direction than How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb. Some of the sound, especially "Fez-Being Born" reminds me of the experimentation that occurred with Achtung Baby. The title track's intro builds up in a way that reminds me of "Zooropa." It's definitely more experimental than the typical U2 sound you see other bands mimicking now.

*cough*COLDPLAYANDKILLERS*cough*

Overall, it's hard for me to say what my favorite tracks are. I like them all for different reasons, but I will confess that the weaker one for me is "Breathe," but that could be because I don't care for Bono basically doing spoken word over the band. I think overall, it's a nice solid move that shows progress in the band's sound, while giving fans some of the same things they've come to expect.

Oh, and in other related U2 news, the band finally annouced their tour, which appears to be a very ambitious stadium tour. The three big thoughts I have are:

1. ONLY CHICAGO FOR A MIDWEST STOP? BOOO! BOOO! What about the other people in the Midwest. Why not Madison dammit? I hope more dates are announced for their second leg.

2. I'm surprised to see that they took a sponsor -- Blackberry (What? No Apple?) -- on for this tour. For awhile, they've been known to pay for their tours on their own. However, this does look to be a bit of a technological behemoth, so I wonder if that's the reason why.

3. How much are tickets going to be? I guess I tend to equate stadium shows with big bucks, so I'm hoping that it isn't that expensive. Even though I'd LOVE TO, I can't be like K. and follow the boys everywhere or go to all their shows. Well, maybe I could. If I sold the kid.

JUST JOKING!

In salute of grandparents everywhere

2009-03-07T13:25:00.004-06:00

I know, I know, my faithful reader(s?) -- you're probably looking at this blog and going, "WHERE THE FUCK IS THE U2 REVIEW?" All in good time, all in good time. I need to digest this CD a little more. No Line on the Horizon is a pretty heavy album to listen to at times.

Anyways, I was reading Her Bad Mother, when she talked about this article, in which, she and her mother are featured. Long story short, some parents are upset by how uninvolved their parents are with the grandkids.

I think that news of Marian Robinson, who is considered the "First Grandparent," may be bringing up issues between parents and their parents about their grandchildren. Part of it I think is an unrealistic expectation -- if you don't remember your parents as exactly being the most enthusiastic caregivers, then you shouldn't be surprised if they're not exactly falling all over themselves to change a diaper or babysit.

But I guess, reading that article, I felt kind of bad for the grandkids in general. Because a lot of time with family and how close you are with relatives, it's not the big holiday visits, but the little, mundane day-to-day things that can solidify closeness.

For the record, I feel very blessed in the grandparent department. Jeff's parents, who live in Florida, have been very hands-on when they're in town. I've talked about in the past about how much of a help she was when I gave birth to Benevolent Dictator. She's also a good person to talk to for advice about kids (after all, she raised three great guys and is now a grandmother of four beautiful girls). Jeff's father is also a great cuddler and always has an open pair of arms to snuggle his grandkids.

My mom also offers me a respite every week by coming up with my grandmother to hang out and spoil Benevolent Dictator rotten (BD apparently is like me -- the more people around her, the happier she is). She's also gotten the hang of the routine and what to do during regular visits and is pretty much a person I trust with BD. After all, if she's seeing the kid every week, she has to adhere to my rules.

As a result, BD's gotten a great benefit in general from this. She loves talking with her grandparents in Florida and watching them on the webcam, and she also looks forward to seeing my mom and grandma (Another side benefit? My 96-year-old grandma apparently also looks forward to these visits and talks about them for days. I think in a way, it might help her a little too.).

I will admit some benefit to having someone watch BD for a few days, but I think it's also that this has made me feel closer to not only my mother, but Jeff's mother too. It's nice knowing that there's someone in your corner, willing to help out when you need it, and willing to bail you out when you need it. Even if it's a stinky diaper, a hot meal or a date night out with the husband.

I don't see it as something they owe me. If they can't babysit, that's fine. They have a life. I don't expect them to drop everything and bail me out. After all, I'm a grown-ass woman and a parent. But I gotta say, I love that they're willing to help us out. I couldn't imagine raising a child without outside help and remaining sane.

So I guess, if you're reading this Mom, thanks. It means a lot to me that you've been a great help. And for Jeff's mom, you're also a wonderful woman for the advice and help you offer while you're here. I'm glad to know BD's got some great grandparents in her life. And I think that as she grows, it'll be her benefit to have many adult role models in her life.

Edited to add: On second reading of the New York Times' article, I wonder about racial, socioeconomic differences in this. I mean, upon talking to some of my neighbors (who came from Yemen and Ecuador), living with the parents until they got married was normal. Chinese culture has that the grandparents live with the parents and the grandkids. Jeff has said he's expected my mom to move in with us when she retires. My response was that I didn't expect that because both me and my mom know we'd kill each other in a week or so. Living nearby yes, living with? OH HELL TO THE NAW.

Anyway, it just seems like the New York Times and maybe, MAYBE, white, middle-class America is discovering this now, like they're digging it out of some sort of time capsule. Am I crazy to think that?

So how shrewish is The Shrew?

2009-03-02T20:05:00.002-06:00

A few days ago I watched BBC's ShakespeaRe-Told's "The Taming of the Shrew," which rocks hard. It's a great version of the play -- Shirley Henderson and Rufus Sewell are just awesome with their chemistry and it's screamingly funny.

It also made me remember when I first read Taming of the Shrew and I was really disheartened by the ending of the play and Katherina's speech:

A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance commits his body
To painful labour both by sea and land,
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord? —
I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toll and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready; may it do him ease.

Which to me, smacks a little of misogyny. And really, I'm not alone. The weird thing is that this seems to be unlike William Shakespeare. After all, he wrote great female characters, COMPELLING, female characters like Beatrice, Lady Macbeth (who is a villianess, but still, interesting) and others. Even Juliet, poor Juliet, put to the icon status, is interesting in a "watching teen love get messed up," kind of way.

So I guess, WHAT THE HELL? And then I couldn't read the play for awhile. It just kind of weirded me out. I know I'm not the only one. Other people have talked about it. Apparently it's one big debate among Shakespeare scholars.

Then I saw this:

And I think it's the ending line of, "I know he wouldn't do that to me because he wouldn't ask of me anything he's not prepared to do for me," that makes the ending make more sense to me, as a romantic comedy.

If Shakespeare was going for a straight-up bad behavior comedy where no one is truly good or likable, then I can see Taming of the Shrew being what it appears on the paper. But if it's a romantic comedy sort of thing (which it seems to have become, judging by all the adaptations), then I like how writer Sally Wainwright did it.

Because in a way, love is surrender and backing up the other person, even if they act like a git. But that kind of love is also given because you know that person will do the same for you. It's that confidence that you know you have support, even if everyone else calls you a hopeless fool.

But I don't know if that's a common view. Unfortunately (or fortunately), depending on how things go, The Bard didn't give stage directions on how to handle this. So I guess that like anything interesting, it's up to various viewpoints and interpretations.

Hasta la vista Zonk and Katie!

2009-03-01T19:39:00.002-06:00

Last week, two of my dear friends, Michael and Katie, packed up their stuff and headed down to Texas. Willingly, I might add. Despite the fact that Texas' cheese could be considered inferior to Wisconsin's, as well as their brats, they moved. Dammit.

I first remember meeting Michael and Katie during a Halloween party that Alan hosted. My first impression is that Katie is a pixie. The girl fits in my purse. Not that I've tried. *whistles innocently* But it wasn't until one Gen Con, in which we all carpooled together that I really got to know the two of them.

I learned that Michael is a big gaming nerd who likes to talk about his balls a lot. He also gets embarrassed when you talk about him talking about his balls. Which I still don't understand, because he would bring up his ginormous jubblie-jublies at nearly every opportunity he could. I also learned that you can easily embarrass him by bringing up the fact that he talks about his ginormous jubblie-jublies all the damn time.

During that time I also learned that Katie' smart as hell when it comes to children's books, she knows her fashion and she's an ardent feminist who's not afraid to talk the ear off of a game publisher about how stupid their illustrations with women are.

We also gamed together for two years and that was some great times, which resulted in us becoming closer friends.

I think the biggest compliment I can pay those two is that when Benevolent Dictator was born, they both made efforts to spend time with us on our terms (which usually was no sleep or doing the senior early bird special at Dennys). They were also the first people to babysit BD when jeff and I would get away for an evening.

Even though the Internet means that we won't lose touch with each other, it's still hard to see them go. It's funny how much you can take for granted when someone is so close in location. I'm going to miss them dearly. I think BD already does. One day she was walking down the stairs and said their names.

It made me sad to say, "Yes, we have friends named Michael and Katie. But they're not here anymore. They're in Austin. But I hope we see them soon."

I know it's for the best. Michael's got a great job lined up and I think that change is good for them both. I wish them the best of luck, I know that I'll see them online, but I hope that we see them soon. Or at least that I can torment Michael online, while I imagine Katie's giggling at her husband freaking out.

Monthly report: 20th month -- STUNT BABY RIDES AGAIN!

2009-02-23T19:53:00.003-06:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator --

On Saturday, you turned 20 months old. You are officially a toddler (well, you have been for awhile), and I have to say that it's getting to be a bigger challenge keeping an eye on you. The reason for that?

You are now officially a stunt baby. Today you climbed up into your high chair alone and without assistance. Then you tried to stand up and take a step out of your high chair. My dear, I can't afford to put rubber mats on all the floors to protect you -- especially when you think it's a good idea to get upon your high chair and dance.

I'm impressed -- especially since your parents aren't exactly known as active or agile people. But for people assuming that you're going to be the opposite of your parents, it's not happening either. You love to read books. We still spend time sitting around reading books. You love to dance -- stomping your feet around and twirling around in circles.

Right now you enjoy playing games of hide and seek. You like to stand in a corner and have me run and hide. However, you don't give me much time to hide at all. But the look on your face when you find me (in one of the three usual spots -- because really, I can't fit into many places) is always a delight, especially as I hear you say, "FOUND YOU."

You're attention span is also growing a little bit. You'll read books by yourself and play quietly for a few minutes. But you still have this radar sense that tells you when I'm in the middle of something major -- say making a cheese sauce that requires a lot of stirring or writing something on the Internet -- and then you corner me, demanding attention.

You're also showing a little jealous side. Whenever I hold another toddler or baby, your jealously instinct overrides and much like a Terminator you come over demanding I hold you and remove this interloper. Which is funny, because when you get together with other kids, you're not bad at sharing toys.

Which gets to another thing -- you do share like a dictator. You'll come over to me or your Dada with a sippy cup and demand if we drink. If we don't take the drink, you scream at us. You also need to learn the lesson that you can offer something, but that doesn't mean people are going to go for it.

Looking over this letter, it seems like it's full of contradictions -- you like to share, but don't like to share me. You share on your terms only. You love to move and run around, but also have quiet and still moments. I think that's what it means to be a person in general. We're all full of contradictions. As Walt Whitman wrote, " "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes."

You are large -- maybe not in physical size, but in personality. And I love it.

Love,

Momma

Flesh of my flesh, heart of my heart

2009-02-21T21:09:00.003-06:00

I'm standing the shower, when I feel a hand tug on my pubic hair. It's not my husband. It's my daughter. She's in the shower with me, happy as a clam and splashing in the puddles, while I soap myself down and wash my hair.

Afterwards, I turn the shower off, put the drain on and let the water flow into the tub. The shower curtain opens up and we can hear the music streaming from my iPod into the room. During this time, I wash BD off and we sit and soak in the tub.

Bathing with Momma is different than when she's alone. When she's in the tub alone, BD often stomps around, splashing furiously and attempting to do shots of bath water out of her many, many toys.

But with me, she's a little quieter. We do splash, but most of the time we just sit together and soak in the water. BD will sometimes rub a washcloth over my chest and say seriously, "Chest."

She's very slippery in the water and her wet hair hangs down her back (When did it get so long?). One occasion, she slid in for a hug, our bodies fitting together perfectly for one small moment, before she separated to play in the water.

I used to not enjoy these moments. Some days I just wanted 20 minutes alone and to myself, even if it was in the shower and brushing my teeth. But as of late, I've been wanting them more.

Maybe it's because BD has never really been a hugger, kisser or cuddler. She likes to run and explore, climbing and running around. If she wants to be held, it's often because she wants to get closer to something out of her reach.

When I ask her if she loves Momma, she answer with a smile, "No." Most of the time, when I'm giving her a kiss, she's pushing me away, seeking out the next adventure.

But for those brief moments in the tub, she gives me a hug, she slides past me like a baby seal, maneuvering through the water without hesitation. And when she slides into my body for a hug, she fits perfectly.

I don't know how long these moments will last, and I know that there will be other sweet moments in the future, but right now, I'll treasure what I've got in the tub with my kid.

Whoa! Where the hell have I been?

2009-02-19T21:57:00.004-06:00

Wow. I just realized it's been awhile since I updated (not that anyone's noticed). I just wanted to say that I'm not dead. Perhaps it's Twitter that's taking up my writing time -- I mean, 140 characters is a lot of fun to play with right now.

I do have posts kicking around in my head right now, but well, tonight is not the time to write. Nor is the next few days. There's big things, little things and odd things going on and really, now is not the time (while I'm full of a glass of wine and tired as hell).

So I guess what I'm trying to say is this: Sit tight. Not dead. Will post soon.

And now for something lighter...

2009-02-09T12:25:00.003-06:00

Well, after the last post, I just have this thought:

Is it wrong that after watching the two clips below, I want to find a Lazytown CD?

Maybe it's that I feel better after my weekend with K., but this is making me smile and dance around the kitchen island. It's nice to feel happy after a week of stress.

AH DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA! WHAT DON'T YOU FUCKIN' UNDERSTAND?

2009-02-08T21:36:00.000-06:00

I will admit, earlier this week, I was acting like Christian Bale:

It's been a little rough around here -- all three of us are sick with bad coughs (BD also had a fever for a couple of days), we're tired and the economy woes are starting to hit a little close to home (which has me and Jeff stressed out as I bury cans of money in the back yard and in bird feed a la Tony Soprano). So to say that I needed a getaway with the fabulous K. this weekend would be an understatement.

We holed up at The Iron Horse Hotel and caught up on bad television, television and random topics of discussion. I also had a chance to meet Christina, who I've talked to online, but not in person. I hope she didn't mind the happy lunatic drunk at dinner.

By the way, the Iron Horse is an awesome place -- funky, fun rooms, great service from the staff, good food and drinks and a rain shower! Which features opaque glass from floor to ceiling so you can get a "shower show" from your loved one. Great for sexy fun, but for two friends just looking to hang out? Yeah.

Anyways, back to rage. When first saw Keidra, to say that I resembled Christian Bale would have been an understatement. Which got us to talking about this article in Parenting.com:

Life for women may be better in many ways than it's ever been, but we're far from whistling show tunes. According to Parenting's nationally representative survey of more than 1,000 mothers on MomConnection, an online panel of moms, the majority of us confess to feeling anger at surprising levels.

And that's what I feel sometimes. And I hate typing that. I've made it a personal rule never to talk about Jeff and my relationship in detail, because really, I don't want our laundry out there for everyone to see. But honestly, that article hit a nerve with me.

I can't say that I'm surprised that a lot of women who are married and have kids are now PISSED OFF. I can't say I'm surprised by the depth and intensity of the anger, because I've been there. But I don't know if the entire blame should be laid at the spouse's feet.

Rather, I wonder how much of this is a mix of we women allowing men to get away with certain things in silence for the sake of keep peace. I wonder how many women have sat down and told their husbands/spouses/whatevers how angry they get about missing the hamper, not putting dirty dishes in the sink, etc. Are we hoping that people will recognize what we're doing and go "AMAZING! WONDERFUL! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! LET ME RUB YOUR FEET!"?

Admittedly, I suffer from this at times. I martyr myself for the foot that will never be spontaneously rubbed. I have hated having to ask Jeff to do things around the house when I know I could get them done faster.

But on his end, I know that he's felt like he's been slowly pushed away. And if he doesn't see what needs to be done and when he asks, I'm all like "I GOT IT." through gritted teeth, it's obvious that there's something wrong. But if I'm not saying what it is, that's not really helpful is it?

And this is where I wonder -- as women, is some of this snafu because many of us are taught not to ask for anything? Or not be direct in what we want? For a woman, a raised eyebrow can be a plethora of things. For most men, a raised eyebrow is a raised eyebrow.

It seems like we women are taught to suffer in silence and just take these blows and slings until you snap and are featured on the nightly news with people going, "She was always so quiet and nice! I mean, she did the cupcakes for the preschool Valentine Day party! And the sprinkles were so nice! I never thought she'd kill her husband and shove his body in the chipper shredder!"

AND ANUDDER THING: How much of this is us being angry at the person vs being mad at a situation? When I did my Christian Bale tantrum before leaving to see Keidra, I realized suddenly that it wasn't anyone I was angry at, but a situation. How many women have that same thing right now? Their spouses are stressed about layoffs, money's tight, the kids are sick/tantruming/setting fire to each other and the dog shit on the carpet. There's a lot of compounding rage that ends up becoming this weird feedback loop between people.

I don't know. I feel like these are bigger issues and questions that are hard to address -- we're dealing with basically thousands of years of conditioning mixed in with what goes on between two people in a relationship. Relationship waters are deep, murky and dangers areas to travail sometimes. Throw a kid into the mix (which adds stress like you wouldn't believe), and I think it's understandable why a lot of women are carrying around rage.

The only thought I have for guys is to simply ask, "Is there anything I can do for you?" every now and then -- and then just do the job without protest and complain. It's amazing how nice it is to see someone do that for you.

For me, I promise to try and not take my frustration about a situation out on people and be better about saying exactly what I need. Even if it's a foot rub and just silence.

Finetune Friday: Love sucks.

2009-02-05T22:37:00.004-06:00

This month's Finetune Friday was a suggestion made by me: Break-up songs. You know those songs -- the sad, mad, strong, desperate, angry songs we listen to after a break-up. Possibly while we're setting the ex's stuff on fire in the driveway like how Angela Basset did in Waiting to Exhale.

Mine is called To Hell with Love:

Don't forget to check out other Finetune Friday participants:

K.'s got Love Kills; and
Christina's contribution is Breaking Up is Hard To Do.

ETA: Oh yeah! Michelle also resurrected Anti-VD
for this time!

Dear Mr. Reda: FUCK YOU! Love, America

2009-02-04T20:05:00.003-06:00

Lying in bed last night with Hiya Beautiful and nursing my head cold, I stumbled on an article about President Obama's new regulations to help try and get our economy out of the toilet. The biggest thing that caught my eye was regulating the amount of pay executives get to a maximum of $500,000.

Not surprising really, given that these companies chose to take TAXPAYER money to help them out. But then I see this quote:

“That is pretty draconian — $500,000 is not a lot of money, particularly if there is no bonus,” said James F. Reda, founder and managing director of James F. Reda & Associates, a compensation consulting firm. “And you know these companies that are in trouble are not going to pay much of an annual dividend.”
Mr. Reda said only a handful of big companies pay chief executives and other senior executives $500,000 or less in total compensation. He said such limits would make it hard for the companies to recruit and keep executives, most of whom could earn more money at other firms.
“It would be really tough to get people to staff” companies that are forced to impose these limits, he said. “I don’t think this will work.”

Mr. Reda -- I have to say first off that $500,000 is A LOT OF MONEY. It's not just upper middle class or middle-class income (especially since these folks are dealing with being laid off, so they've probably dropped an income level or two) -- this is what I'd like to call "RICH MOTHERFUCKER" money. If your salary could pay for my house two times over, with cash to spare, you're a RICH MOTHERFUCKER.

Secondly. no one put a gun to these executives heads to come crying to Congress begging for bailouts. They should not be surprised that strings are attached to this cash. Hell, when I go into the bank for a loan, there's strings attached (such has having enough liquidity to show we could cover part of the loan, having a job, etc.).

These companies (several of which are also doing just fine and not in trouble, unlike the big boys), are borrowing from THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. And the American people are having a hard time covering their basic bills thanks to both rising costs for basics and getting laid off. To say that the General Motors CEO should still earn $14.4 million while everyone else is hurting pisses everyone off.

This is the ultimate example of greed and a lack of touch with reality. It screams "I got mine so fuck you." And that attitude isn't going to endear any of these executives to anyone. And like it or not, once you take the money from the government -- which is ultimately from US -- you will answer to us. And right now, we're pissed about the multi-millions executives are earning while we are freaking out about whether or not we'll have a job at the end of the month.

Most of the time I'm a pretty peaceful person. But damn, if there was ever a time for the underclass to rise up and slay the rich, shit like this would be the trigger point.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-26T13:51:00.004-06:00

HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

I hope you all are getting a dose of Chinese food (we'll be doing takeout here -- I can't do the tradition of not lifting a knife for five days, but one day should be doable) and celebrating the coming of the year of the Ox. Well, according to some astrologers, we apparently should be hiding and preparing for disaster:

Chinese soothsayers see a deepening recession, millions more losing their jobs, and stocks and home prices continuing to fall. That's more or less in line with what some economists are predicting, but some fortunetellers are throwing in other dire predictions — massive earthquakes, rising U.S.-Russian tensions and trouble for President Barack Obama.

Joy. I hope that Obama's also paying attention to this, because apparently he's in a world of hurt, according to predictions:

"The new U.S. president is not having good luck this year. His honeymoon will only be short-lived," said fortuneteller Alion Yeo, predicting Obama may even face impeachment in his first year in office. "The Year of the Ox looks slightly better and less dire than last year, but it will still be bumpy."

Wow. Instead of celebrating, I have a feeling that we should be ducking and covering by these predictions. Never mind the fact that as a Dragon, Ox years are rarely kind to me.

At least there's some optimism. Raymond Lo, a Feng Shui practitioner, interviewed for the article said that this year is a year for healing from the previous turbulent years.

I hope the man's right.

Monthly report: 19th month -- Cabin Fever

2009-01-25T12:16:00.002-06:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Four days ago, you turned 19 months old. During this time, we survived Christmas -- which was a great deal of fun as we saw relatives and friends. But after the holidays that whipped through here at the end of last year and as we settle into the long winter hibernation, I feel that I've learned something major about you:

You suffer cabin fever about as well as I do. Which is to say. NOT. AT. ALL.

And the harder thing is that we try to regulate television, so it's not like you and I can plunk down and watch movies to while away the hours at home. Nope, we have to play and read books and do things around the house. Which is rather hard to do because you have this view of "THIS SHIT AGAIN? GAH! IT'S GETTING OLD!" after you play with a toy for about 15 seconds.

So we go out. A lot. Having a toddler is like having a border collie -- we have to run you hard most days or else you'll destroy everything in the house. You're well known by Very Large Bookstore Chain (TM) employees, as well as several mall employees. Of course it helps that you work the charm during those times -- you're sweet, outgoing and bubbly, often shouting "HI" to people, giggling madly and blowing kisses. You are not an introvert.

But at home, that's when trouble occurs. You've ripped up several books (which makes me sad) and attempted several insane stunts. You walk down the stairs, with someone holding your hand, with no problem now and I'm now finding you climbing up on things. The other day I turned around and saw you standing on the diaper bin with a "Now how do I get down?" expression on your face. I have no idea how you got up on the diaper bin in the first place.

You're definitely more verbal, often sounding like an Apple store: "I sit." "I stand." "I snack." "I change." or "I nap." It's both charming and weird at the same time. I think that some of this is you asserting your independence from me in little ways -- you want to dress yourself, choose your outfits and put on your own shoes. If you do not get that, then woe to the world.

Your tantrum skills are impressive. You've mastered the boneless fall-back, the face-forward scream and bury your head into the floor, and going boneless -- which is a lot of fun in public when I'm afraid you're going to smack your head on the tile floor. You're also mastering slamming the doors in the house when you're mad. It's like living with a three-foot-tall teenager (who's not that verbal yet). Your lungs too are also impressive. Good lord child, I often can find you (if I lose sight of you in the store) by listening for the scream of happiness or cry of anger.

But your bad moods never last long (the worst thing is that my bad moods last longer than yours -- which isn't healthy). And you're very good at following everyone else's emotional cues. When another kid is unhappy, you become unhappy. Which is both good and bad -- it's good because understanding other people's emotions helps you navigate life more smoothly. But it's also bad because really, sometimes the bad mood doesn't need to spread like the plague.

That's one thing that most people still need to learn. I know that with me, I absorb people's emotions and let them dictate how I feel. Or sometimes I'm not happy until everyone around me knows exactly why I am miserable and that they should do everything in their power to make me feel better. Which is proof that your mother is really an overgrown toddler some days who just needs a good nap and a hug.

Love,

Momma

OMG! OMG! OMG!

2009-01-19T20:54:00.003-06:00

The new U2 single, Get On Your Boots , is up! SQUEE! SQUEE!

After a couple of listens, I gotta say I like it. Big surprise. I like that it's crunchy and harder than the "typical" U2 sound (DID YOU GET THAT COLDPLAY?), and Bono's spitting out of the lyrics matches the frenetic pace of the song. I need to hear it more, but for me, this is like a blend of Achtung Baby and How to Dismantle and Atomic Bomb.

I think this is also proof positive that even U2 move away from the huge sonic landscapes that everyone considers to be their trademark. Even with favored producers Brian Eno, Danny Lanois and Steve Lillywhite, U2 manages to sound different (AGAIN, LEARN THAT ONE COLDPLAY).

So yes -- I am excited about the new album. The U2 fangirl may be out soon in full force.

If I do this down the line, someone slap me

2009-01-13T19:40:00.002-06:00

Benevolent Dictator and I were at Very Large Chain Bookstore (TM) today for their weekly storytime session, which is a great deal of fun for those of the toddler set. Most of the time you see normal toddler behavior -- some tantrums, wild giggling, blatant snack and sucking down of drinks and lots of singing and dancing.

And you also see haggard parents who are one step behind their children, putting away stuffed animals, reshelving books or making sure that their child doesn't run out the door with something rather valuable. So one has to be rather tolerant of a lot of variety of behaviors during this time -- if you're expecting quiet moments of civilized conversation, THIS IS NOT THE TIME. This is the time to be watching what looks like a bunch of little rug rats go nuts and attempting to keep the havoc to a minimum.

But today, I saw a mom do something that wasn't cool. While she was reading to her daughter, her son (who is at least a year older than BD) was ripping the flaps off of a lift-the-flap book. Which kinda sucks, but kids around the toddler age don't know exactly social norms and have to be reminded every 10 seconds.

It's what happened next that made me drop my jaw. The mom shoved the ripped flaps back into the book and PUT THE BOOK BACK ON THE SHELF. She even did the whole "looking around and making sure that no staff member is seeing this," and PUT THE DAMAGED BOOK ON THE SHELF.

That's not cool in my eyes. I know the temptation to put things back on the shelf. You won't believe how many things I've bought from Very Large Chain Bookstore (TM) because BD licked them, or ripped a page. But it's a matter of honesty and setting a good example. If you damage something, you pay for it at the store. You make amends. You don't just put the book on the shelf and pretend that it never happened. Or at least let the staff know. Not telling anyone is piss poor.

Obviously, when the kid gets older then the item is coming out of the kid's allowance. Now the kid might not be able to tell the difference between right and wrong as easily, but it's up to us, as parents, to set a good example now.

As parents, we all want our kids to be good people. But it's little things like this that set a major example in how they will behave in the future.

Not to mention, I feel bad for anyone who got that book, bought it, took it home and then saw the doors were ripped off. That's just weaksauce.

Comfort food of all shapes and sizes

2009-01-13T14:26:00.002-06:00

Lately, with it getting darker soon and the weather being too cold to go outside, I've been suffering the winter blahs. Benevolent Dictator and Jeff are also suffering the same thing too, so our house has become one big den of angst, woe and short nerves mixed with lots and lots of comfort food.

I'd say it's like Christmas with the family, but I actually like spending time with my family. But you get the picture.

Anyways, Jeff and I were talking about winter and how blah we were feeling when we got on the topic of comfort food -- the food that takes you back to your childhood and is often heavy enough to stick to your ribs and knock you out cold.

For Jeff, it's casseroles with noodles and lots of "cream of" soup cans, like tuna casserole. For me -- it's dumplings, noodle soups and fried rice. Two very different cuisines.

As of late, we've been eating a lot of both really. I've been busy cooking stir fries and casseroles, often using the stir fries to offset the artery-clogging goodness of Jeff's comfort food.

But it got me to thinking, and I'm curious to see what other people say -- what's your favorite comfort foods? Got any good recipes?

Dark Knight's Joker: A TRUE agent of chaos?

2009-01-07T20:55:00.006-06:00

Recently, Jeff and I FINALLY saw The Dark Knight. On DVD. Because really, Jeff and I are parents and getting out to go see a movie sometimes requires the same amount of planning as a bank heist.

I have to say I loved it too (along with the eleventy-billion other people who saw the movie). Heath Ledger's Joker is an amazing force -- there's no need for backstory, the Joker just is. It's a great crime thriller and also an interesting take on the idea of keeping citizens safe vs. freedom and privacy. I know other people have touched on it, so I'm not going to get into that too deeply.

However, I have been ruminating on the Joker's belief that people, without rules, will fall back to the most base, animalistic and evil behaviors, as well as his argument that he is a true agent of chaos.

In a way, I don't agree with his view of the world. I don't think that human beings, when plans and rules are removed, will ever really fall back to Mad Max Thunderdome tactics. I remember getting into a discussion like this with a former coworker, who believed that when the apocalypse comes, everyone's going to kill each other. Basically, it was like the final battle between Batman and the Joker, but without fighting, SWAT teams and crazy costumes.

In a true case of chaos, I think that you have to leave everything alone and up to chance. And the Joker doesn't do that. You can't say that he did everything he did on a whim. There was some serious planning involved to try and drive people to that point of madness. And even then, he didn't really win in the final confrontation.

So, if you remove all the rules and plans, I really think that life would continue to function the way it does now. Because without an overarching plan, people will still continue on their day-to-day routine and flow. You can't stop people from making teeny little plans -- what to eat, when to wake up, how they brush their teeth. It's part of us and being who we are. And even if you obliterate all of that, I can see people trying to make sense of it and working it into another little plan.

And also, I think that even in the worst case scenario, people won't resort to absolute nihilism. It's not our nature. People on the whole, work best together and cooperating in life. To start doing the "dog-eat-dog" thing, goes against the whole idea of survival. And really, we're social animals. Most of us are seeking connection and companionship -- be it in person or in the digital world.

Now, this ultimately goes against my darker view that we're alone and humanity on the whole can be a stupid lot -- a single person can be a very smart, wonderful person, but people on the whole are a mindless mob with an IQ no higher than a small animal.

But you know, I don't feel like I need to make sense of the contradiction. I think it's because, when push comes to shove, I think we'd band together and cooperate for overall survival. It's just the day-to-day stuff that drives me mad.

In other words, it's like family. No matter what, we're all stuck together and when push comes to shove, we'll band together and make things work.

Editor's note: I have no idea if this post makes sense. I'm one cocktail in and just rambling like a mofo.

Finetune Friday Tuesday! Obama-montage!

2009-01-05T19:49:00.002-06:00

Sorry it's late for the new year, but I'm working the excuse of a sick daughter and husband for now. But I did it! Here's my contribution for Finetune Friday: Obama-montage!

It may appear completely random, but there is method to my madness. The title says it all basically: Montage! It's the music that is gets me going when I'm writing and needing to get stuff done, or music that you see in movie montages (or the montages in your head as you're getting your shit done).

And I have to say that I'm amused knowing that I had the Fugees' "Ready or Not," on my playlist and U2's "City of Blinding Lights" before seeing this list of Obama's music picks. I can't explain the reason why, but it's kind of nice knowing that the president likes the same kind of music I do.

So yeah....Happy 2009!

2009-01-03T19:45:00.003-06:00

Sorry for the belated missive, but Happy 2009! Kind of. This year, our new year was spent in sickness -- both Jeff and Benevolent Dictator have a nasty, phlegmy cough and on top of that, BD also has an eye infection (which has been fun -- ever try putting eye drops in a thrashing 18-month-old's eyes? I think that you'd have an easier time wrestling a crocodile and putting it in a tutu).

So yeah, this new year wasn't exactly fun, what with illness and all that. And I've also been tired as hell since apparently I'm the only well one right now (which of course means that when everyone is well and up to full speed, I'm going to fall over sick as hell. And then the toddler will CONQUER the house).

But looking back at the previous year, while I know some people had it rough, overall it was a pretty good year. I survived my first year with the short one, left my job and have become a hausfrau who enjoys making a fine meal for her family and friends.

I also got to travel a bit -- visited the in-laws in Florida in May, headed to Gen Con for five child-free days with Jeff and also visited my sister in Rochester (not to mention other random road trips all over the place).

As for the future, I think that I'd like to get my writing druthers back and start writing for pay again. To quote the Joker: "If you're good at something, never do it for free." It's time to start earning my keep again.

Of course, I say that now. We'll see if it takes off. If not, that's alright too. Sometimes you just have to follow the flow of life, instead of fighting against it. To use another movie (in this case Kung Fu Panda, which I do recommend), Oogway says, "There are no accidents."

Monthly report: 18th month -- Previewing the off-off-off Broadway one woman show "It's so hard being so small."

2008-12-28T19:18:00.003-06:00

Dear Benevolent Dictator:

Last Sunday you turned 18 months old. That day, your Grandma and Grandpa, along with two of your cousins came up to visit, which was the kick start of the HOLIDAY WORLD TOUR 2008! event that saw us visiting in-laws and family members.

As usual, you were a charming young lady. However, they also got a preview of your one-woman, off-Broadway show "MY LIFE IS SO HARD" which features an extended monologue "MY MOTHER. THE GREAT OPPRESSOR."

Yep. You've discovered tantrums. I knew it was coming, but the past month's arias of pain and woe are really kind of amusing in a sick way. You scream, fall down and then (when you realize that no one is paying attention to you), you go and play with a toy. Only to return and begin sobbing and telling me I'm a horrible mother for not letting you watch TV or play on the computer.

Lord. I knew you had a will. But it never stops amazing me. When I said I wanted you to be a strong woman who would not be afraid to challenge authority, I DIDN'T MEAN ME.

Anyways. You're still quite the chatterbox and you'll often echo our last word back to us, which is kind of fun. I had you saying "YAAAR!" for awhile, along with "Brutal!" and "Crivens!" You also love playing music, and now that Daddy's brought his guitar out, you'll strum a few strings and sing along with him when he plays it.

If there's anything I've noticed, you love books, music and talking to people. Not to mention, running around and exploring everything. You dance to music and will sing "Dub-dub-do-dub" when we sing. You also like ripping through my kitchen cabinets, pulling out the pots and pans and grabbing a spoon. Stirring in the pot you often say "soup," when I ask you what you're making.

You continue to charm the hell out of people. The people at the Apple store are familiar with you and find it charming that you barrel past them to get to the Lego Star Wars games. You even charmed Santa when you sat next to him in the mall and didn't scream bloody murder. Hell, we got a free milkshake out of that experience. Then there was the time you got a free model cell phone from the people at the Sprint kiosk. Somehow, when I go out with you, free stuff follows. It's kind of awesome. We need to take this act out on the road.

One problem we still need to figure out how to deal with is your problem with sharing. You've been known to hit kids with various toys when you don't get what you want. And really, while I understand your frustration, sometimes you have to wait your turn or share things with others. And the problem is that you don't have to do that frequently. There's only me and you at home and other than sharing the computer and food, there's not much that we need to share sometimes.

But just when I think that you might end up to be one hell of a selfish little witch, you'll amaze me by giving me a toy that you were coveting or some of your food. You're learning manners kiddo, which will help you go far. If you keep your confidence and add in some manners and diplomacy -- you're going to be unstoppable kiddo.

Love,

Momma

Happy Belated Decermberween!

2008-12-27T20:45:00.004-06:00

Merry Belated Christmas/Winterfest/whatever to all of you!

So yeah, we had a great time trekking back to Milwaukee with an overstuffed Outback and a cranky little girl (on the way to Milwaukee it was literally a one woman, off-Broadway show called "WHY IT IS SO HARD TO BE SO SMALL" with a special 45-minute section called "My Mom is Evil Because She Won't Let Me Out of this Carseat While the Car is Doing 50 on an Icy Highway").

It was a grand time with the in-laws and family. We had a great time watching very short people run around and play all sorts of games, dress in fairy costumes and chase a dog around while having many cocktails and eating nummy food.

As the years pass, I'm enjoying Christmas more and more, not for the presents (but they sometimes are icing on the cake), but for the company. I really enjoy the company of my in-laws and my family (especially my sister -- whose recent move to Rochester has made it harder to see her) and watching the little ones play and get crazy excited about Christmas. And it's nice to know that that my youngest niece can hold her own against Benevolent Dictator.

But yeah, this year's presents were definitely the sweetest icing on the cake. My sister got me Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab's Kali perfume and this Gelaskin. Oh, and we have the newest member of our family:

Hiya Beautiful.

I am now convinced that the Fates have given me a better husband than I deserve some days.

I know this is old...

2008-12-14T19:41:00.003-06:00

But really, I haven't had time to sit down and type out my thoughts regarding this article from Details magazine. I'm not sure if it's a joke or not, but seriously, I wanted to punch the writer for essentially blaming feminism for the men acting like pigs:

"What's distinctive about being a man anymore?" asks sociologist Michael Kimmel, the author of Guyland, a new book about American masculinity. "In the search for the answer to that question, you're going to get a lot of confusion, a lot of return to traditionalism, a lot of sort of defensive resentment." Resentment that's been bubbling up beneath the enlightened veneer of post-P.C. boys, now grown men with careers and wives and toddlers, who are, for starters, "doing a lot more child care than their fathers did," as Kimmel points out. Recast as nurturers, some of these guys are finding themselves almost indignantly nostalgic for that time, not so long ago, when husbands got to be babied by their wives—and never had to empty the Diaper Genie.

So how do these men react? Apparently adultery, strippers, boozing, drugs and passive-aggressive bullshit with their spouses and others.

To which, my response is more or less, grow the fuck up. No seriously. Grow. The. Fuck. Up. Get your self-centered head out of your ass and grow the fuck up.

Now this doesn't mean that when you get married and have kids your testicles automatically fall out of your ball sack and you're left with a little shriveled bag flapping in the breeze. I'm talking about maybe having the balls to express what you want, accept that you can't get everything your little id wants and working out a compromise.

What also irks me about this article is the idea that ONLY MEN have this stupid urges. HELL. TO. THE. NAW. Everyone has these urges. It's only normal to want to treat yourself or be selfish sometimes and do something stupid like go to a strip club, get drunk and stay up all night long or spend your money on stuff for yourself instead of bills and the mortgage.

But somehow, we women once again are painted as the no-fun-having-mature-angry-shrew-taking-away-all-the-man's-fun bitches. Frankly, if you're upset with your relationship to the point where you're doing stuff like this -- and knowing it'll piss off your spouse/girlfriend/whatever -- you deserve to get your ass dumped for not trying to work it out in the first damn place.

And I'd also like to point out that while the "Men's men" such as the Rat Pack had a lot of fun and left the child-care up to the wimmin-folk, their relationship with their kids suffered. Ever heard of the song "Cats in the Cradle"?

Don't blame feminism for your crappy relationships with others. Blame the fact that you don't have the balls to make things work.

How the hell do you report this with a straight face?

2008-12-09T22:03:00.003-06:00

While the charges are serious against Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich, I have to admit, I'm giggling over how many times Federal prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald says "bleepin."

It's like watching The Sopranos on network TV! I love how Fitzgerald is saying, "And again the 'bleeps' aren't 'bleeps.'"