A Silver-ish Mucus Lining

We’ve been sick. All of us. Mom, Dad, Bean, Grandma Tutu, the whole shebang. There has been a pouring of snot from our collective orifices- and enough tears- to grease the gears of an entire Indy 500. Were going on week seven of constant sickness. Young children are just mobile disease vectors, and it’s a serious design flaw of the universe that parents have to take care of them while they are coming down with the same thing.


Still, there is always a candle to light the darkness, even if it’s cast of a sort of bemused parental irony. The Bean has, like most months, a cough. She still can’t snort in her boogers and swallow them, so they just kinda drain into her lungs- hence the cough.


When the cough comes on good and strong, it dislodges great clumps of mucus. I can’t even begin to imagine what she thinks is happening when a lump of warm mess comes up her throat and lands in her mouth, but her horrified befuddlement- coupled with the fact that she can’t wail about it, cause her mouth is full of oook- is really magic to watch.




Published in: on June 3, 2011 at 6:38 PM  Comments (1)  

Remad ( courtesy of the Missus)

Remad(ree-mahd, adj.): When, in the course of normal spousal conversation, you bring up some fucking stupid thing you did, and the reaction is such that your partner becomes mad again, i.e. “I can’t believe you even said that, I’m SO re-mad at you.”

Published in: on June 2, 2011 at 8:06 PM  Comments (1)  

The worst thing

The worst thing you find at playgrounds?  Not cigarette butts, not questionable pieces of plastic,  not even cat turds………..used band-aids. Ueehlllgh.

Published in: on June 1, 2011 at 8:29 PM  Leave a Comment  

A Bout of Narcolepsy

The kid-and she is fast becoming a kid- has been conking out in the most unusual of circumstances as of late. Yesterday, it was in her high chair, mid-meal, with her face stuffed with crusts of bread. I had my back turned, as I generally use the time she is strapped in her chair to get going on dinner,  while she is unable to interrupt save verbally.

I turned around to dish out a few morsels of cheese to find her dead to the world. Of course, I flipped out, sure that she might just be dead, airways blocked with spongy, saliva-soaked homemade organic bread, cemented with misplaced parental priorities, but no,  she was breathing and her head was lolling around in the same fashion that mine did during my college physics courses. She was fine, just out.

She did the same thing today, just more dramatically and with more interesting repercussions. She was milling about the apartment, having me pick her up/ put her down about 127 times an hour, when she decided to trundle off to the bedroom to pull each and every book off her bookshelf and spread them all over the floor. We call this “reading”.

This is fine.  Mom lets her do this too, as we both understand that the cost of having to pick up the books is well worth a few blessed moments of silence , the only significant difference between us being that mom actually picks up the books later on. Still, it’s accepted in our household that she is “reading quietly by herself” even if she is actually  “chewing all the corners off her library books.” I worry about what the librarians think of us.

She was ‘reading’ by herself. I was ‘contacting business associates’ on ‘Facebook.’ It was silent in the other room, which is a much worse indicator than normal toddler destruction. I jumped out of my skin-suit of bad-internet-parent reverie to find her….out. On the floor. Like a light. Actually, not like a light at all.

She, as per usual, had taken every book of the shelf. The she then had taken out her cardboard alphabet letters. Somewhere around “P‘ though, she just zonked right out, belly-down and spread-eagled, looking like a shipwreck survivor in a bowl of alphabet soup.

The first moral parenting quandary was whether or not I should move her to the bed. Easy enough, as she would almost certainly stay asleep. Second quandary, though was more difficult. Turns out she stopped at ‘P‘ because ‘P‘ stood for ‘Poop‘. She had laid a monstrous poop in her diapers, the kind that threatens to geyser up her butt-crack and out the diaper, causing what is known in the nuclear power industry as a ‘containment issue.’

I couldn’t let her sleep in her poop…could I? No no, I was pretty sure there were infection issues, outside of the fact that it’s just nasty and wrong. Still she would almost certainly wake up. She hadn’t slept properly for days, what with new teeth coming in, and to be fair, neither had we, hence my bleary-brained thinking. Thankfully, I decided on the right thing.  I figured I might be sacrificing the afternoon nap, but I had to try.

Now, tired is sleeping right through someone disrobing you, applying cold wipes to your ass and genitals, re-clothing you and NOT WAKING UP ONCE, which is why university administrators crack down on keg parties. I’ll worry/remain in denial about that one when the time comes, but for now I get to put a check in the ‘ dad doesn’t suck’ column. I think. We still haven’t slept much, so I can’t be sure about being self-congratulatory , but at least I have earned  the luxury of typing as Mom waits breathlessly- I can hear them now- in the other room, waiting for the next bout of narcolepsy.  Remember when we all used to call this simply “going to bed?”

Published in: on May 11, 2011 at 6:46 PM  Comments (2)  

Use Your Words

The doctor asks

“How are her words? Does she know any body parts yet?”

The only word G will say reliably is “Cat!” Yes, she says it when she sees the Cat….and a dog, a bird, any type of food and sometimes for the joy of saying “Cat!”

She has one other word, the American Sign Language symbol for “more”, although as far as she is concerned, it means “Do what I want you to do, right now.”

We’ve been working on nose, more to get her to touch my nose gently rather than for the vocabulary aspect of it. Still, I try and heed the doctor’s advice, so we started working on more facial features.

Today we re-enforced ‘nose’, practiced ‘ear’ learned ‘mouth’ as well as “Oh F**K OH F**K F**K That’s my EYE LETITGO THAT’SMYWHOLEF**KING EYEBALL!!!”

Published in: on March 4, 2011 at 4:40 PM  Comments (3)  

Monkey Puzzle Tree

I believe this level of recycling finally gets me my ‘Californian’ card.

Published in: on February 10, 2011 at 9:30 AM  Comments (9)  

Mama Mandala

Go mama. Baby ducks on POINT!

Published in: on November 20, 2010 at 10:55 PM  Leave a Comment  

Spooky Kid Stuff

Is it me, or is all the baby paraphrenalia a little weird these days? ‘Dark’ weird is what I’m trying to say. Some examples:

Sure, a normal looking playpen, but go ahead and say the name out loud.

I like to call it "Meth-addled-Homeless-Leper Cat (the arms come off)

A normal looking rubber ducky, sure, but then...

..the same duck after ASSIMILATION BY THE BORG.

Published in: on November 13, 2010 at 2:32 PM  Comments (2)  

Both my Handlebar and Ninja skills are Whompin’

Published in: on October 22, 2010 at 6:26 AM  Comments (2)  

Protozoan Wife-Swap

Published in: on October 19, 2010 at 1:00 PM  Leave a Comment