the big (boy) apple

I gave Raisin an apple to hold onto while we did our grocery shopping the other day. As we made our way through the store, one of the employees said, "You know, if you weigh that and print out the sticker, you can let him eat it while you're shopping." To which I replied, "Oh thanks, but he can't eat a whole apple like this yet. I have to cut it up for him."

As we pay for the groceries, he looks very distraught as the cashier places his apple/ball in the bag. And soon he starts to vocalize his uneasiness about the whole thing. I explain to the cashier that he was just concerned about his ball/apple. So she fished it out of the bag and handed it to him.

He's ready for a snack when we get home so I think, why not some apple (he's still holding on to it)? I explain how we're going to have a tasty apple treat and begin to cut it. The look he gave me was similar to the look he would've given me if I began to cut into his left arm. "No! No! No!' He cried. So I hand him the apple minus one chunk. He looks at it lovingly, lifts it to his mouth and takes a bite right out of it. Just like a big apple-eating boy. He looked like he had been doing it for years.

Snacktime was over but apparently apple-time wasn't and he proceeded to walk around the house taking a nibble here, a nibble there. When we went out front to do some weeding, he carried his dear friend apple with him. It began to turn brown and he dropped it a few times on the ground. Still, he continued to gnaw away at its flesh. At one point, he was sitting on the porch steps, apple-to-mouth and he looked like such a kid. My boy's growing up. Oh, how I wish I had a picture of that.

Instead I have just this.

sidewalk chalk: it's not just for sidewalks anymore

This past weekend we bought Raisin a large bucket of sidewalk chalk. We figured it would provide him with hours upon hours of good wholesome artistic fun. We were right. He is an arteest and the world is his canvas. THE WORLD.

The only bad part about having a wall of our kitchen done in blackboard paint is trying to explain to a 17-month old boy why he can't draw on every wall of the house. "No sweetie, Mama likes the wood frame to be wood color -- not fuchsia." The backyard walks are pretty much covered with artistic renderings of balls, Target, hearts, numbers, etc. And now mini-Picasso has moved on to bigger and better things. Hardwood floors. Garbage cans. My pants. The dog. Nothing's safe from his merciless sidewalk chalk tags.

I think we'll hold off on the finger paints.

the world needs more filthy rich people like warren buffet

Wow. He might be my new idol. He's inspired me to give away 85% of my fortune too. I'll be cutting a check right away. Pay to the order of: Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Amount: $17.

next on COPS: caught in the act

Watch closely. When you see Norman sit so poised and innocent, you'd never guess that he was up to no good. Also note how the boy smartly conserves his energy by using his dog-feeding hand to feed himself.


Then, later that same day.


Of course they both denied it. And the weed wasn't theirs either.

and it was at this precise moment that he'd had enough of the zoo and all its caged exotic creatures

Yes, even this one.


Lucky for us, our kid also has about a one-hour tolerance for milling around with the general public.

a conversation with a nay sayer

"Hey little man, wanna go have some juice and a snack?"

"No..."

"You don't want a snack?"

"No..."

"Or juice?"

"No..."

"Should we go home and see Norman?"

"No..."

"Should we go home and play basketball?"

"No..."

"I think you mean yes."

"Essssss."

it's official, we have the plague

Today we all woke up in our bed wheezing, coughing and feeling altogether miserable. That's when some very important decisions were made:
• We decided we definitely had the Avian flu or some other deadly disease.
• The husband decided he wanted to be carried around in the bed like Frida Kahlo.
• We decided that maybe, just maybe, there were about four inches of our midsection (from lower chest to upper abdomen) that didn't feel quite so bad.
• We decided that the dog didn't care that we were all sick and that he still wanted his two walks thankyouverymuch.
• And little e decided that even though he couldn't breathe with a pacifier in his mouth and he's coughing up a lung, that he, was in fact, in need of a ball STAT.

It's too bad. I had some big ideas of productivity happening today -- there would be swim class, laundry and Level 3 grocery shopping. Then during nap time there were pilates to be done and calls to be made.

Instead I took a nap.

mister negativity

We had visitors Wednesday through Sunday. Whenever we're with people who don't have kids, I hope that Raisin behaves himself so that he doesn't become the kid that equals another dose of birth control every time you see him. Except for a string a sleepless nights, he pretty much turned on the charm. And I suspect our guests flew back to Seattle wanting to get them one of those. Er, maybe not.

We started our swim class this morning. As the teacher was telling us the most important thing to remember, "Don't let your kids in the water until you say so," Raisin was toe-deep in the zero-depth pool. I'm glad he's still excited about the water. After we got in the pool the teacher passed out an assortment of water toys. Guess what he got. A BALL. Actually it looked more like one of those sponge clown noses.

In other exciting news. His "owwwww" that he used for the word "no" has now quite clearly evolved into the word "no." Let the defiance begin. It's pretty funny though. When he says it, it's not like an adament no, it's more like "Mmmm-I-don't-think-so- not-today-mama" no.

My head feels like it's the size of a watermelon. Failure to lather the boy in Purel after a trip to the new library has resulted in snotty-coughy-achy colds for all of us. Hooray! On top of a major teething episode, I expect that we'll be getting some decent sleep in oh, around 2025. Stupid library.

Good night.

death of an idea

Day 1 (around conference room table)
Client 1: "Ooh, what a great idea."
Client 2: "It's really fresh."
Client 3: "I love it."
Client 4: "It's eye catching and fun."
Client 5: "Yes, yes, yes...it's really great."
Client 6: "This is IT."
Client 7: "They'll love it."


Day 2
Client 1: "It just needs a little fine-tuning."

Later, that same day...
Client 1: "We've spent some time thinking about how we can work with this idea without marginalizing our topic. Here's where we landed: (INSERT COMPLETELY NEW IDEA HERE)."

cat's in the cradle

Papa's out of town again. This one goes out to him.

If you turn up the volume and listen very carefully, you'll sense the unbridled enthusiasm of a kid who really loves to swing.

helicopters

Turns out, there is good that can come from 20 quatrillion helicopters in your backyard.

The gathering.


The wind up.


The release.


The consequence.

always

On today's trip to Target:
Raisin nibbles, sniffs, kisses and snuggles with a package of feminine hygiene products all the way through the store. The only thing stopping him from spooning it was the fact that he was strapped into a shopping cart seat. On our way out, he earnestly waves and says goodbye with thick southern twang, "Bah!" to each and every cashier or "Target team member" as they're called in the copywriting world. Sadly, no one on the team notices.

And here's something to ponder:
Is it just me or are "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", the alphabet song and "Baa Baa Black Sheep" all the same song with different words? You're humming them all now, aren't you?

a shout out to papa

who's away on secret SPAM-related business.



We love you.

blah! ball

Little e has a new favorite game. We call it Blah! Ball. You know the little dragon character from Baby Einstein? What do you mean, no? Well, there's this dragon and he says blah and man, is it funny (to a 16-month old)!

When we took our trip to Florida, we bought Raisin a little Blah puppet-- one of the countless props we used to entertain him on the flight. Now, apparently, it's more fun to play ball with Blah than it is with Mama or Papa.

The game usually starts when Raisin hobbles over to one of us, Blah in hand, and says, "ball" expecting you to go and fetch one. So you do, being the obedient parent that you are. Then, ever-so-carefully, you pick up the ball in Blah's mouth and throw it across the room. This can go on for a while. However, it's one of the better games for getting stuff done because a Blah on your hand can actually be quite helpful in some of the multitasking -- like drying dishes, for example. Or like last night when we were sipping cold, boozy cocktails, Blah was almost like a beer cozy around my icy glass.

Everyone needs a Blah. Act now while supplies last.

rrruy row rell rrrrigh

Like most people, I tend to get some junk email and it's usually labelled as such by my email program. But this morning, when I got back from a meeting, there was an unflagged email labeled simply from "Norman". Other than our dog, I'm sad to say, I don't know any Normans so I was a bit suspicious. I thought it might be a little joke from the husband, reminding me to take Norman for a walk since we had to skip our morning routine. So I opened it. And it was a stock tip. That's when I pictured Norman sitting with a Wall Street Journal in his paws sending random stock tips from my computer. "Buy Purina."

question

How many strawberries are too many strawberries for a 16-month child to consume?