Thursday, March 15, 2007

Help the Police

The five songs I've listened to the most in my lifetime (in more or less order):
1. The Pixies, "Little Eiffel" (first year of college)
2. Nirvana, "Smells like Teen Spirit" (first and second year of college)
3. Radiohead, "Airbag" (continuously since 1997)
4. Public Enemy, "Bring the Noise" (junior year of high school through college)
5. N.W.A., "Fuck the Police" (junior and senior years of high school)

Thank goodness that British comedian Adam Buxton has made it safe to listen to that last golden oldie around the kids:

(Via Daddy Types, where you can also see the complete revised lyrics.)

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Sunday, July 16, 2006

Blowing and Drifting

With this post, Xferen is no more. I invite you to join me over at Blowing and Drifting, my new personal blog. Shannon's posting frequently at her personal blog, Mama in Wonderland, and of course I'm still contributing to After School Snack, too. Comment early and often!

Saturday, July 15, 2006


I know that lately it's been quieter around here than in the Office of Successful Initiatives at the White House. Shannon's moved on to her own blogging gig over at Mama in Wonderland, which is highly recommended. For my part, I'm on the verge of moving to my own new blog. Watch this space; it'll be up and running on Monday, July 17.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Jumping on the Bandwagon

It's time, people. You know it, I know it, Christopher's been encouraging it for the past three months.

Yes, I'm talking about my own blog, Mama in Wonderland, where from now on you will find my writing about parenting, motherhood, Julia, and (soon) the new baby's entry into our family. Bookmark it for easy access, and check it out when you can!

As I say in my introductory post on Mama in Wonderland, I hope it will serve as an interesting way for our loved ones to hear the latest about Julia (and her baby sister, when she arrives). Grandparents, especially, are insatiable when it comes to stories about their grandbabies, I have noticed!

A couple things: Scroll down the Mama in Wonderland page to the very first post or two for a little Wonderland intro. And if you use Microsoft Explorer to navigate the Internet, the screen may not look right when you go to the blog. As Christopher lectures me daily, you should really be using Safari or Firefox or something else good. Finally, if you do check out the blog, I'd love a comment letting me know you've been there, and what you think, if you can.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Bigger, Bigger, Bigger

In the middle of toddler swimming class this morning, while splashing and kicking and practicing getting her nose, chin, and ears wet, Julia turned toward the teacher, looked at her seriously, and squealed apropos of nothing, "Mama's tummy bigger bigger BIGGER BIGGER!!!!!" It's one of her newly favorite pronouncements. The way her voice gets higher and louder with every "bigger" is the most hilarious part. Also, she finishes the refrain by stretching both arms straight up in the air in joy, or amazement, eyes as wide as dinner plates. It's clear she's never seen a more amazing phenomenon than this one. Every day: Mama's belly bigger, bigger, bigger! You've got to wonder what she's making of it all. I mean, obviously we try our best to teach her the most basic facts of what is going on, and we mention when we can that before too long, the new baby will come out and--listen up, here, girlie--SHE WILL CRY AND NURSE A LOT. A WHOLE LOT. ALL THE TIME, IN FACT, JUST LIKE YOU DID. GET USED TO THE IDEA NOW.

But, you know, she just has no idea, naturally. She's not yet done being a baby herself, nor should she be, at only 25 months old. Too little for fireworks, too little to stay up until ten. Asleep in her bed last night with her blankie and her kitty, dreaming of sunshine and baby swimming lessons while the neighbors fizzled sparklers on the street out front.

The real fireworks, of course, will happen at the end of August, when a wailing little interloper will appear on the scene, full of a lot more spark and fizzle than any old discount-tent sparklers.

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Not Today

I think I've said before that Julia, in her older-babyhood, is a remarkably amiable little citizen; she hasn't (yet?) really gotten into the tantrum thing, other than a few relatively mild meltdowns when she has gotten overtired or overhungry. An impressive amount of the time, she follows rules, listens to directions, and is generally helpful and cooperative in a very sweet way. Her one arena of rebellion thus far has been clothing; for several weeks now she has greeted pretty much all morning outfit suggestions with, "Don't yike dat one. Put it away."

Not too long ago, however, she somehow picked up the phrase, "Not today." Cute, right? Asking Jujee, "Do you want to build a tower, honey?" or "Would you like some peas for snack?" and hearing the polite, amusingly adult refusal, "Not today" in reply? Yeah, it was cute. At first. The first fifty times or so. Before it became the mantra of choice in response to EVERY SINGLE QUESTION OR REQUEST ASKED OF HER ALL DAY LONG, EVERY DAY. Not to mention the response to such non-questions as, "Honey, it's time to change your diaper," ("Not today!") or "Bathtime, honey pie." ("Not today!") Now it's driving me just a little bit crazy. On the other hand, it's certainly one of those toddlerisms that effectively gets her point across, isn't it?

Wish I could use it all day long like she does. The fifth load of laundry this week? Not today. Guarding my still-uncoordinated baby all over the playground jungle gym under the blazing sun while my 8-months-pregnant pelvic ligaments protest every twist and turn? Not today. Remaining patient when, instead of an afternoon nap, my toddler chants, "Mama coming, Mama coming, wake-up time, wake-up time" for an hour straight in her room? Um, not today, thanks.

Oh hey, but speaking of baby-speak, Julia has suddenly dropped her "Baby Julia" self-appellation! Just this week we noticed she has been calling herself just Julia (or, more accurately, something along the lines of, "Joo-ya!"), instead of her longstanding "Baby Julia" chosen nickname (which she inexplicably used constantly, for many months after we had stopped referring to her even in passing as such). Not surprisingly, it feels a little bit sad.

But--good news: she still says "dip-dip" and "mee-mu." Whew!

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

There's a Lot of Growing Going on Around Here

News flash! Julia's sleeping in her "big-girl bed" (toddler bed) tonight for the first time! She looks like such a big kid too, so accustomed are we to seeing her securely ensconced in her white baby crib these past two years.

Big Kid Bed, originally uploaded by Tassava.

In other news, neither my maternity tankini top nor my favorite white maternity strappy tank top actually cover my entire straight-out-to-there basketball-belly any longer. We've got eight weeks to go, people.

(Please note: the phrase "maternity tankini top" is one I can safely say I never would have thought I would utter in relation to my own personal wardrobe. But there you go.)

What's That?

Our quart-sized observer has recently made some big leaps forward in her attempts to understand what the $#&%# is going on around this joint. Her former, "Eh? Eh? Eh?" has (almost entirely) been replaced by a chirpy little, "What's that?" and helpful pointing gesture. At various points in the past few days, she's asked about rear-view mirrors, cows, unfamiliar items in various Seismic Teat Sesame Street books, gardening tools at Target, the items in various aisles at Cub Foods, the contents of my work bag, my Mac's desktop photo of "her" chalk drawings, and my new bike helmet. God only knows what she quizzes Mama on.

She's also pushing beyond this simple empiricism by asking semi-rhetorically, "What's Julia doing?" whenever she does pretty much anything. Anything at all. Some answers I provided yesterday:
"Running down the aisle at Target."
"Drinking your water."
"Eating pasta."
"Walking up the stairs."
"Standing on your bed."
"Coloring giant circles."
"Making a funny face."
"Washing your hair."
"Brushing your teeth."
"Holding your Ernie doll."
"Throwing Ernie headfirst down the steps."

You get the picture, surely. I'm entertained by and curious about her constant inquiry. On the one hand, it's clearly a way of attracting parental attention to such feats as holding our hands (and less mundane accomplishments like riding in the "big kid cart" at Target). She's on her way to the "Watch me, Daddy!" stage, which, honestly, I'm dreading a little bit (having seen it at an extreme with one of Julia's cousins).

On the other hand, the stream of questions is obviously also a way to learn new things, especially vocabulary but also purposes, relationships, and qualities. (You should have heard how long I had to talk about the rear-view mirror!) All in all, it's pretty charming. And her retention should be the envy of any postadolescent. I don't think she forgets a single word she learns. SAT, here we come!