Monday, August 2, 2010
Can't Get That Earworm Outta My Head
So, I read this article on CNN.com about what it possibly the 'nets next Rickroll. The article is not about Rick Astley or "Never Gonna Give You Up", but it did mention it. Now I can't get "Never Gonna Give You Up" out of my head. It's like I've been rickrolled by Anderson Cooper. Thanks, guys.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Sometimes I feel a little bit like Kermit
This post is for Michelle over at Plus One. Check out her blog in general and, specifically, her contest for unpaper towels.
When we have kids we think about many, many things – from giddy, happy things like baby’s first Christmas and starting new family traditions to the ugly side of parenting like loss of sleep. But one thing we never think about beforehand is the environmental impact of having one or more children.
What exactly is the environmental impact of children?
Diapers are the first thing everyone thinks about and disposable diapers certainly add tons, quite literally, to the waste stream. But what about water? Electricity? Gas?
As I sat down to write this post I smugly thought about all the great things we’ve done to lessen the environmental impact of adding one more person to our family…and realized that we really haven’t done all that much.
I recycle glass, plastic, metals and paper products, but I did that before The Punkin got here. (I need to take a moment to brag on The Punkin here. The other day she put her father’s coke can in the recycling can and told me she was “de-cycling”. I was so proud of her.)
I’m a little bit of an electricity-nag, always going behind my husband and cutting off lights, sometimes getting yelled at if he’s still in the room when I cut the light off. And I wash all our clothes except towels in cold water. (I do make the allowance of washing towels in warm water.) But, again, I did those things prior to having a baby.
As far as water consumption, I’ve made one small change recently. Our bathtub faucet drips and I’ve started putting a bucket under it and using the water collected to water plants. Better than it going down the drain. But that’s the only change.
Our one bright spot is our gas use. I’ve not measured it, but I’m sure our gas consumption is about even, if not less, than before we had a baby. Driving to daycare does add another mile or two to our daily commute, but overall we’re not driving as much. We don’t go out to eat as much, we stay at home more in the evening, and I plan trips to the grocery store and KMart instead of going out for one thing at a time.
But aside from gas, our overall consumption has increased. Heck, just through toys alone, our consumption has increased. I’m sure Grammy was responsible for the demise of an acre or two of forest last Christmas simply from the packaging and wrapping paper around all the toys. I did make a valiant effort to collect and recycle as much of the wrapping paper as possible and all the boxes. But still, I was a little appalled at the amount of STUFF my child received at Christmas. But my feelings about the overabundance of toys in her life will be saved for another post.
So this post is not so much about what we’ve done as what I’m going to do.
And what am I going to do? I’m going to take it one step at a time. Right now I’m doing research on cloth diapers. I had big plans about cloth diapers with The Punkin, but ultimately ended up going for the convenience of disposable. With He-Who-Is-Not-Yet-Named, I’m making a commitment to cloth diaper at least part time (and by part-time, I mean weekends) or full time if our day care is open to it.
Ultimately, I would like to have a garden with a compost pile to further cut down on our waste stream and provide fresh produce for my family. That feels like a big project that will take a couple of summers to fulfill. So, while I’m greening up my family one-step at a time, I may come up with a five-year plan of ideas. If anyone reading this has any ideas they’d like to contribute, let me know and I’ll see about incorporating them into my family.
When we have kids we think about many, many things – from giddy, happy things like baby’s first Christmas and starting new family traditions to the ugly side of parenting like loss of sleep. But one thing we never think about beforehand is the environmental impact of having one or more children.
What exactly is the environmental impact of children?
Diapers are the first thing everyone thinks about and disposable diapers certainly add tons, quite literally, to the waste stream. But what about water? Electricity? Gas?
As I sat down to write this post I smugly thought about all the great things we’ve done to lessen the environmental impact of adding one more person to our family…and realized that we really haven’t done all that much.
I recycle glass, plastic, metals and paper products, but I did that before The Punkin got here. (I need to take a moment to brag on The Punkin here. The other day she put her father’s coke can in the recycling can and told me she was “de-cycling”. I was so proud of her.)
I’m a little bit of an electricity-nag, always going behind my husband and cutting off lights, sometimes getting yelled at if he’s still in the room when I cut the light off. And I wash all our clothes except towels in cold water. (I do make the allowance of washing towels in warm water.) But, again, I did those things prior to having a baby.
As far as water consumption, I’ve made one small change recently. Our bathtub faucet drips and I’ve started putting a bucket under it and using the water collected to water plants. Better than it going down the drain. But that’s the only change.
Our one bright spot is our gas use. I’ve not measured it, but I’m sure our gas consumption is about even, if not less, than before we had a baby. Driving to daycare does add another mile or two to our daily commute, but overall we’re not driving as much. We don’t go out to eat as much, we stay at home more in the evening, and I plan trips to the grocery store and KMart instead of going out for one thing at a time.
But aside from gas, our overall consumption has increased. Heck, just through toys alone, our consumption has increased. I’m sure Grammy was responsible for the demise of an acre or two of forest last Christmas simply from the packaging and wrapping paper around all the toys. I did make a valiant effort to collect and recycle as much of the wrapping paper as possible and all the boxes. But still, I was a little appalled at the amount of STUFF my child received at Christmas. But my feelings about the overabundance of toys in her life will be saved for another post.
So this post is not so much about what we’ve done as what I’m going to do.
And what am I going to do? I’m going to take it one step at a time. Right now I’m doing research on cloth diapers. I had big plans about cloth diapers with The Punkin, but ultimately ended up going for the convenience of disposable. With He-Who-Is-Not-Yet-Named, I’m making a commitment to cloth diaper at least part time (and by part-time, I mean weekends) or full time if our day care is open to it.
Ultimately, I would like to have a garden with a compost pile to further cut down on our waste stream and provide fresh produce for my family. That feels like a big project that will take a couple of summers to fulfill. So, while I’m greening up my family one-step at a time, I may come up with a five-year plan of ideas. If anyone reading this has any ideas they’d like to contribute, let me know and I’ll see about incorporating them into my family.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
And the Waiting Begins…
A few weeks back I told you about going in for our first trimester Down Syndrome/Trisomy 13 and 18 screen. We had to wait about a week for the results. (Which I neglected to post, btw, but the results were good. My risk of Down Syndrome was halfed to approximately that of a 31 year old and my risk of Trisomy 13 and 18 was something astronomically in our favor like 1 in 7800.)
But waiting that week for those results was nothing like the eight hour wait I have today.
Here are the facts:
1) I went to the doctor this morning for an ultrasound.
2) At 17 weeks along, the baby is big enough to determine its sex.
3) My husband couldn’t come to this appointment.
So what’s a girl to do? We want to know the baby’s sex, but I thought it would be sweet for us to find out together. So I asked him last week if he was OK with me finding out or if he’d rather I get the ultrasound tech to write it on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope for us so we could open it together after work.
At first he said either way, he didn’t care; but this weekend he developed an opinion on the matter and said he liked the idea of us finding out together after work. I have to admit, at first I was (selfishly) glad he said he didn’t care. Instant gratification—I could know as soon as the ultrasound tech knew. But a little (ok, a sizeable) part of me is glad he wanted to find out together. It will be sweet. … But instant gratification went right out the window with his decision.
Right now two people on this planet know the sex of my baby – the doctor and the tech. I’ve got the Top Secret Information in an envelope which I sealed so I wouldn’t be tempted to peek. And I’ve got a seven to eight hour wait until I can share this information with my husband. Today may be the Slowest. Work. Day. Ever.
One hour down…
One last note: I want to go on the record here as saying I think it's going to be a boy. We'll know if my spidey-sense was right or not in a few agonizingly long hours. If you want to go on the record with your guess, leave a comment.
But waiting that week for those results was nothing like the eight hour wait I have today.
Here are the facts:
1) I went to the doctor this morning for an ultrasound.
2) At 17 weeks along, the baby is big enough to determine its sex.
3) My husband couldn’t come to this appointment.
So what’s a girl to do? We want to know the baby’s sex, but I thought it would be sweet for us to find out together. So I asked him last week if he was OK with me finding out or if he’d rather I get the ultrasound tech to write it on a piece of paper and put it in an envelope for us so we could open it together after work.
At first he said either way, he didn’t care; but this weekend he developed an opinion on the matter and said he liked the idea of us finding out together after work. I have to admit, at first I was (selfishly) glad he said he didn’t care. Instant gratification—I could know as soon as the ultrasound tech knew. But a little (ok, a sizeable) part of me is glad he wanted to find out together. It will be sweet. … But instant gratification went right out the window with his decision.
Right now two people on this planet know the sex of my baby – the doctor and the tech. I’ve got the Top Secret Information in an envelope which I sealed so I wouldn’t be tempted to peek. And I’ve got a seven to eight hour wait until I can share this information with my husband. Today may be the Slowest. Work. Day. Ever.
One hour down…
One last note: I want to go on the record here as saying I think it's going to be a boy. We'll know if my spidey-sense was right or not in a few agonizingly long hours. If you want to go on the record with your guess, leave a comment.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Headline Hijinks
I'm convinced that the people who write headlines do not always read them aloud. For example, this gem from MSN.com: Utah's lack of size spells big problems. The story is about the Utah Jazz basketball team. However the headline makes it sound like the wives of Utah are ready to revolt because of, ahem, unsatisfactory size issues.
Happy Monday, everybody.
Happy Monday, everybody.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Down Syndrome...to Test or Not to Test
Time flies. I know, it’s a cliché. But it’s true. It seems like just a couple of months ago I was bringing my baby girl home from the hospital and now she’s a bright, active, talkative 3-year-old. When a friend with a new baby asks a question about what her 3-month-old is doing, I have a hard time remembering what the Punkin did at that age. This should still be fresh in my memory! But, no, it was three years ago. A thousand days have passed and with them a thousand new stories have come and gone.
My child continues to grow and somehow along the way, I continue to grow older, too. I am now 36 and pregnant. How did this happen? Wait before you answer that…I know exactly how the pregnancy happened, it’s the 36 that I’m questioning.
The doctors have a term for being over 35 and pregnant. It’s called Advanced Maternal Age. Yeah… I guess it’s better than “knocked up old lady” or “antique stove with a bun in the oven” or…well, you get the idea. I’m above the average age for a preggo.
With Advanced Maternal Age come a whole slew of potential complications. But perhaps the one everyone thinks of when you’re over 35 is Down Syndrome. Of all the things I worried about when I was pregnant with the Punkin and any worries that I had started to consider with this pregnancy, Down Syndrome was not even on the list until the doctor mentioned that as a woman over 35 I was in the target group for screenings.
I like to think that I’m not a big worrier. I just worry about the wrong things, like whether or not I locked the door or left the oven on. And although I wasn’t overly worried about the possibility of Down Syndrome, I did elect to have the first trimester screening. I didn’t invest a lot of energy in worrying about it, but I rationalized that if we have the medical technology available to get an answer early on, it was one more thing I could cross off my list of possible worries. That would free up time to try and remember whether or not my curling iron is still on.
Part of the reason I elected to get the first trimester screening is because it’s non-invasive. Once upon a time, the only way you could get this information was through an amniocentesis or chorionic villus sampling. Both of these procedures involve sticking a needling through your abdomen into your uterus. No thank you. Not unless absolutely necessary.
But this screening is completely non-invasive from the baby’s point of view. The nurse drew some blood from me, but that was as invasive as it got. They also did an ultrasound to check nuchal translucency – or how thick the tissue is at the back of the fetus’ neck. Then they put the results together from these two tests and come up with a risk factor.
This is not the same as a diagnostic test. Only the aforementioned amniocentesis or CVS can tell you one way or another for certain whether your child has a chromosomal disorder or not. The results from the first trimester screen simply slide you up or down on the risk scale. A good result would mean I could move from a 1 in 200 chance (the average chance for a 36 year old) to, say, a 1 in 1,000 chance. A not-so-good result could move me to, for example, a 1 in 50 chance. While not entirely foolproof, it has a 90 to 95 percent accuracy rate. I’m comfortable with that.
So, when will we hear the results? The blood test won’t come back for about a week, so we won’t know the official answer until then. But the doctor said the ultrasound measurements looked perfectly normal. I’ll let you know when we hear back with the final results.
My child continues to grow and somehow along the way, I continue to grow older, too. I am now 36 and pregnant. How did this happen? Wait before you answer that…I know exactly how the pregnancy happened, it’s the 36 that I’m questioning.
The doctors have a term for being over 35 and pregnant. It’s called Advanced Maternal Age. Yeah… I guess it’s better than “knocked up old lady” or “antique stove with a bun in the oven” or…well, you get the idea. I’m above the average age for a preggo.
With Advanced Maternal Age come a whole slew of potential complications. But perhaps the one everyone thinks of when you’re over 35 is Down Syndrome. Of all the things I worried about when I was pregnant with the Punkin and any worries that I had started to consider with this pregnancy, Down Syndrome was not even on the list until the doctor mentioned that as a woman over 35 I was in the target group for screenings.
I like to think that I’m not a big worrier. I just worry about the wrong things, like whether or not I locked the door or left the oven on. And although I wasn’t overly worried about the possibility of Down Syndrome, I did elect to have the first trimester screening. I didn’t invest a lot of energy in worrying about it, but I rationalized that if we have the medical technology available to get an answer early on, it was one more thing I could cross off my list of possible worries. That would free up time to try and remember whether or not my curling iron is still on.
Part of the reason I elected to get the first trimester screening is because it’s non-invasive. Once upon a time, the only way you could get this information was through an amniocentesis or chorionic villus sampling. Both of these procedures involve sticking a needling through your abdomen into your uterus. No thank you. Not unless absolutely necessary.
But this screening is completely non-invasive from the baby’s point of view. The nurse drew some blood from me, but that was as invasive as it got. They also did an ultrasound to check nuchal translucency – or how thick the tissue is at the back of the fetus’ neck. Then they put the results together from these two tests and come up with a risk factor.
This is not the same as a diagnostic test. Only the aforementioned amniocentesis or CVS can tell you one way or another for certain whether your child has a chromosomal disorder or not. The results from the first trimester screen simply slide you up or down on the risk scale. A good result would mean I could move from a 1 in 200 chance (the average chance for a 36 year old) to, say, a 1 in 1,000 chance. A not-so-good result could move me to, for example, a 1 in 50 chance. While not entirely foolproof, it has a 90 to 95 percent accuracy rate. I’m comfortable with that.
So, when will we hear the results? The blood test won’t come back for about a week, so we won’t know the official answer until then. But the doctor said the ultrasound measurements looked perfectly normal. I’ll let you know when we hear back with the final results.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Yay, Kate, you go girl...Now please go home
One thing I told myself when I started this blog was that I wasn’t going to be a hater. It would be very easy to write about the things that bug me, but that serves no purpose. It just fuels negativity within myself and brings attention to things that I don’t like. If I don’t like something, why should I pique your interest in it?
Having said that, I’m now going to bend my own rules a bit. I’m going to talk about Kate Gosselin on Dancing with the Stars.
I am not a Kate Gosselin fan. Never have been. Don’t anticipate ever being one. We’ve watched bits and pieces of the now-defunct Jon and Kate Plus 8 and it wasn’t a program either my husband or myself enjoyed. Having a bunch of kids does not make you a parenting expert. It just means you have a bunch of kids. I’ve got enough chaos in my life, why do I want to watch someone else’s chaos? Plus – remember the title of my blog here – if I’m going to watch “reality” TV, I’d rather be watching Ghost Hunters…or Mythbusters… or Destination Truth.
Even though I don’t like her, I’m not a Kate-Hater. There are plenty of people in this world that I don’t like, but I hate very few of them. To actually hate someone means you are emotionally invested in him or her and, frankly, I don’t care enough about her to hate her.
I just want her off DWTS because she’s not entertaining. She can’t dance. She’s so awkward it almost hurts to watch her. And the rehearsal montage they show each week usually highlights her talking about how her life at home is so stressful that she can’t help but bring her emotional baggage with her. With so many clever and fun contestants, why are we still watching the sad sack attend her own personal pity party each week? We should just put Tony out of his misery and let them go home.
Now that I’ve vented about why I want her off DWTS, I’ll take a moment to defend her decision to join the cast this season. Many of her detractors say that she shouldn’t be on the show because she should be spending time with her kids. Give me a break. Talk about double standards. She’s not the only parent to appear on this show; she’s not even the only parent this season. Pamela Anderson and Chad Ocho Cinco both have kids and no one has criticized their decisions to participate in the show.
The only difference is that Kate Gosselin’s career is centered around the fact that she is a mom. For Anderson and Ocho Cinco, their careers are independent of their parenthood. That difference does not mean Kate has any more or less of a responsibility to her kids than any other parent on the show. So, while I do not want to continue watching her each week, I respect her decision to participate.
But each week, I hope, will be her last on the show.
Having said that, I’m now going to bend my own rules a bit. I’m going to talk about Kate Gosselin on Dancing with the Stars.
I am not a Kate Gosselin fan. Never have been. Don’t anticipate ever being one. We’ve watched bits and pieces of the now-defunct Jon and Kate Plus 8 and it wasn’t a program either my husband or myself enjoyed. Having a bunch of kids does not make you a parenting expert. It just means you have a bunch of kids. I’ve got enough chaos in my life, why do I want to watch someone else’s chaos? Plus – remember the title of my blog here – if I’m going to watch “reality” TV, I’d rather be watching Ghost Hunters…or Mythbusters… or Destination Truth.
Even though I don’t like her, I’m not a Kate-Hater. There are plenty of people in this world that I don’t like, but I hate very few of them. To actually hate someone means you are emotionally invested in him or her and, frankly, I don’t care enough about her to hate her.
I just want her off DWTS because she’s not entertaining. She can’t dance. She’s so awkward it almost hurts to watch her. And the rehearsal montage they show each week usually highlights her talking about how her life at home is so stressful that she can’t help but bring her emotional baggage with her. With so many clever and fun contestants, why are we still watching the sad sack attend her own personal pity party each week? We should just put Tony out of his misery and let them go home.
Now that I’ve vented about why I want her off DWTS, I’ll take a moment to defend her decision to join the cast this season. Many of her detractors say that she shouldn’t be on the show because she should be spending time with her kids. Give me a break. Talk about double standards. She’s not the only parent to appear on this show; she’s not even the only parent this season. Pamela Anderson and Chad Ocho Cinco both have kids and no one has criticized their decisions to participate in the show.
The only difference is that Kate Gosselin’s career is centered around the fact that she is a mom. For Anderson and Ocho Cinco, their careers are independent of their parenthood. That difference does not mean Kate has any more or less of a responsibility to her kids than any other parent on the show. So, while I do not want to continue watching her each week, I respect her decision to participate.
But each week, I hope, will be her last on the show.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Woot! We're #3!
All right, so there are worse lists to be at the top of...like being at the top of obesity rates or teen pregnancy rates. Here's one that's a little funny...unless of course, it's pollen season.
WORST PLACES TO HAVE ALLERGIES
1. Knoxville, Tennessee
2. Louisville, Kentucky
3. Chattanooga, Tennessee
4. Dayton, Ohio
5. Charlotte, North Carolina
6. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
7. Greensboro, North Carolina
8. Jackson, Mississippi
9. St. Louis, Missouri
10. Wichita, Kansas
WORST PLACES TO HAVE ALLERGIES
1. Knoxville, Tennessee
2. Louisville, Kentucky
3. Chattanooga, Tennessee
4. Dayton, Ohio
5. Charlotte, North Carolina
6. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
7. Greensboro, North Carolina
8. Jackson, Mississippi
9. St. Louis, Missouri
10. Wichita, Kansas
Friday, March 19, 2010
Fantastic Friday
So, what am I excited about this Friday? Several things.
1) Scrapbook club meets tonight. It's a chance to hang out with the girls and work on a scrapbook layout. If you've ever been interested in paper crafts, check out my buddy Ellen's blog Stamperiffic.
2) After scrapbook club, I'm going to go home and watch Who Do You Think You Are. If you haven't heard of it, each week of the series explores genealogy by exploring a celebrity's roots. When I saw the show's teasers during the Olympics, I wasn't sure about it. I'm not a big celebrity-follower, so did I really care about watching famous people find out who their ancestors were? But I am interested in genealogy and finding my own family history so I gave it a try. I haven't been disappointed.
The first two episodes dealt with Sarah Jessica Parker and Emmitt Smith. Watching these individuals discover their family history is like watching history come to life. It's a reminder that those who came before us were more than just names on a page, they were living, breathing people with joys and sorrows, heartaches and victories, and a story to tell. Just like us.
So if my pregnant self doesn't fall asleep on the couch at 9 p.m., I'll be watching this well-crafted show. And if I do fall asleep, the DVR is set, so I'll watch it tomorrow.
3) Last, but certainly not least, The Punkin is spending the night with Mammaw and Grammy tonight. So I get to sleep in tomorrow. Hallelujah. It's the little pleasure that matter the most.
Have a great weekend. I hope you enjoy yours as much as I'm planning to enjoy mine.
UPDATE: I was wrong...Who Do You Think You Are actually comes on at 8! I obviously have never watched it when it was actually on (the miracle of a DVR!). But I did manage to watch it Friday at 9 and stay awake. It was really, really good. I cried several times.
1) Scrapbook club meets tonight. It's a chance to hang out with the girls and work on a scrapbook layout. If you've ever been interested in paper crafts, check out my buddy Ellen's blog Stamperiffic.
2) After scrapbook club, I'm going to go home and watch Who Do You Think You Are. If you haven't heard of it, each week of the series explores genealogy by exploring a celebrity's roots. When I saw the show's teasers during the Olympics, I wasn't sure about it. I'm not a big celebrity-follower, so did I really care about watching famous people find out who their ancestors were? But I am interested in genealogy and finding my own family history so I gave it a try. I haven't been disappointed.
The first two episodes dealt with Sarah Jessica Parker and Emmitt Smith. Watching these individuals discover their family history is like watching history come to life. It's a reminder that those who came before us were more than just names on a page, they were living, breathing people with joys and sorrows, heartaches and victories, and a story to tell. Just like us.
So if my pregnant self doesn't fall asleep on the couch at 9 p.m., I'll be watching this well-crafted show. And if I do fall asleep, the DVR is set, so I'll watch it tomorrow.
3) Last, but certainly not least, The Punkin is spending the night with Mammaw and Grammy tonight. So I get to sleep in tomorrow. Hallelujah. It's the little pleasure that matter the most.
Have a great weekend. I hope you enjoy yours as much as I'm planning to enjoy mine.
UPDATE: I was wrong...Who Do You Think You Are actually comes on at 8! I obviously have never watched it when it was actually on (the miracle of a DVR!). But I did manage to watch it Friday at 9 and stay awake. It was really, really good. I cried several times.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
In the Family Way
It's been almost a month since I posted a blog. I've started several, but haven't actually finished one (as I'm sure you've been able to figure out.)
One reason is...a few days before my last post in February, I found out I was pregnant. What does that have to do with my serious lack of output? Well, with the exception of telling a few friends, we were waiting until after my first doctor's appointment to tell people. But when I'd try to write something for my blog, being pregnant just seemed to come to the front of my mind. Sigh...so it was hard to blog and keep a secret. haha. I'm sure many, many people have discovered that over the years.
This here is just a quick note to let you know I'm still alive and kicking. And will be posting again soon. Now that I'm not concerned about spilling the beans about my pregnancy, it'll be a little easier to write.
One reason is...a few days before my last post in February, I found out I was pregnant. What does that have to do with my serious lack of output? Well, with the exception of telling a few friends, we were waiting until after my first doctor's appointment to tell people. But when I'd try to write something for my blog, being pregnant just seemed to come to the front of my mind. Sigh...so it was hard to blog and keep a secret. haha. I'm sure many, many people have discovered that over the years.
This here is just a quick note to let you know I'm still alive and kicking. And will be posting again soon. Now that I'm not concerned about spilling the beans about my pregnancy, it'll be a little easier to write.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Canadian Grudge Puck
Canadians love hockey.
I don’t know that we Americans can truly understand how deeply hockey is ingrained into the Canadian psyche. Probably the closest we come is the religious events that we here in the South call football games. Yes, the Super Bowl is routinely one of the most-watched television events of the year, but for many of the viewers it’s as much of a social event as a sporting one.
Hockey is different. Hockey is in the Canadian blood. Little Canadian girls play hockey and little Canadian boys play hockey and then the two grow up and have babies that learn to skate at the same time they are learning to walk. The entire country expects both the men’s and women’s hockey teams to take gold in these Olympics.
So imagine the shock to the Canadians this past weekend when the American hockey team beat the Canadians 5-3. The game-winning goal came against an unguarded net. At first I thought the goalie had simply been pulled away from the net in a puck-control skirmish, but then it was explained to me that taking the goalie out of the game is a strategic measure used in times of desperation. A team replaces the goalie with a sixth skater in an effort to outman the other team's goalie. It gives the goalie-less team a better chance of scoring. But sometimes it backfires.
It backfired on Canada. Taking out the Canadian goalie gave an American a chance to make a haphazard shot, one that shouldn't have worked. But it did.
I believe Canadians collectively did a national face-palm at that moment.
The US went on to get one more goal just for good measure and at the final buzzer, the tally was US 5, Canada 3. It was eerily quiet in the hockey stadium. If you’ve never seen a full-house hockey stadium go quiet, I’ll tell you – it’s downright spooky.
I tell you all of this so you’ll understand a little more when I tell you about the Canadian/German hockey game. The initial games are over and now we are moving on to the serious stuff—the quarterfinals, semifinals and finals which will determine gold, silver and bronze medals. Because of our victory the other night, the US got an automatic spot in the quarterfinals. Canada, however, had an elimination game with Germany before they could get to the quarterfinals. The Canadians were mad. And the Germans were in their way.
I’m positive that this was the first and only time in the existence of these two nations that Germany feared Canada.
Canada beat Germany 8 – 2. It was 8 – 1 until the last few minutes when Germany happened to score a second goal. The Canucks had a grudge and they were taking it out on Germany.
If the unthinkable were to happen, and the US were to wind up beating Canada for a second time on their home turf and taking the gold (or knocking Canada out of gold contention) it could spell the end of peaceful diplomatic relations with our neighbors to the north. Political scientists 200 years from now would study the Great Hockey Disaster of 2010 and how it affected international alliances for decades afterwards.
So in the interest of world peace, or at least North America peace, let’s all root for Canadian hockey. Go Canada!
I don’t know that we Americans can truly understand how deeply hockey is ingrained into the Canadian psyche. Probably the closest we come is the religious events that we here in the South call football games. Yes, the Super Bowl is routinely one of the most-watched television events of the year, but for many of the viewers it’s as much of a social event as a sporting one.
Hockey is different. Hockey is in the Canadian blood. Little Canadian girls play hockey and little Canadian boys play hockey and then the two grow up and have babies that learn to skate at the same time they are learning to walk. The entire country expects both the men’s and women’s hockey teams to take gold in these Olympics.
So imagine the shock to the Canadians this past weekend when the American hockey team beat the Canadians 5-3. The game-winning goal came against an unguarded net. At first I thought the goalie had simply been pulled away from the net in a puck-control skirmish, but then it was explained to me that taking the goalie out of the game is a strategic measure used in times of desperation. A team replaces the goalie with a sixth skater in an effort to outman the other team's goalie. It gives the goalie-less team a better chance of scoring. But sometimes it backfires.
It backfired on Canada. Taking out the Canadian goalie gave an American a chance to make a haphazard shot, one that shouldn't have worked. But it did.
I believe Canadians collectively did a national face-palm at that moment.
The US went on to get one more goal just for good measure and at the final buzzer, the tally was US 5, Canada 3. It was eerily quiet in the hockey stadium. If you’ve never seen a full-house hockey stadium go quiet, I’ll tell you – it’s downright spooky.
I tell you all of this so you’ll understand a little more when I tell you about the Canadian/German hockey game. The initial games are over and now we are moving on to the serious stuff—the quarterfinals, semifinals and finals which will determine gold, silver and bronze medals. Because of our victory the other night, the US got an automatic spot in the quarterfinals. Canada, however, had an elimination game with Germany before they could get to the quarterfinals. The Canadians were mad. And the Germans were in their way.
I’m positive that this was the first and only time in the existence of these two nations that Germany feared Canada.
Canada beat Germany 8 – 2. It was 8 – 1 until the last few minutes when Germany happened to score a second goal. The Canucks had a grudge and they were taking it out on Germany.
If the unthinkable were to happen, and the US were to wind up beating Canada for a second time on their home turf and taking the gold (or knocking Canada out of gold contention) it could spell the end of peaceful diplomatic relations with our neighbors to the north. Political scientists 200 years from now would study the Great Hockey Disaster of 2010 and how it affected international alliances for decades afterwards.
So in the interest of world peace, or at least North America peace, let’s all root for Canadian hockey. Go Canada!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Gold Medal Mamas
More reason to love curling -- It's a family sport!
Quite literally, in the case of Canadian curler Kristie Moore who is 5 1/2 months pregnant. (There's a joke waiting to be made about how she needs to check into the products offered by the USA Curling sponsors, but I'm going to take the high road and not go there :-)
Can you imagine the story she'll have to tell her little one? "You were at the Olympics with Mama when we won the gold."
How many times can you say that has happened?
OK, so the article gives you the answer to that question... This is only the second known time an athlete has competed in the Olympics while in the family way. In 1920 Swedish figure skater Magda Julin won gold while three months pregnant.
So, best of luck ot Kristie, her teammates and her little curler-in-training. Maybe we'll be watching him or her curling in the 2030 Winter Olympic Games.
Quite literally, in the case of Canadian curler Kristie Moore who is 5 1/2 months pregnant. (There's a joke waiting to be made about how she needs to check into the products offered by the USA Curling sponsors, but I'm going to take the high road and not go there :-)
Can you imagine the story she'll have to tell her little one? "You were at the Olympics with Mama when we won the gold."
How many times can you say that has happened?
OK, so the article gives you the answer to that question... This is only the second known time an athlete has competed in the Olympics while in the family way. In 1920 Swedish figure skater Magda Julin won gold while three months pregnant.
So, best of luck ot Kristie, her teammates and her little curler-in-training. Maybe we'll be watching him or her curling in the 2030 Winter Olympic Games.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Awesome Olympic Sponsor
I love the Olympics. The pageantry, the glory...the sponsorships. Nothing can get me crying faster than a well-crafted, heart-string-pulling commercial about the trials and perseverance of Olympic athletes.
So...I submit for your approval...possibly the strangest, yet most strangely compelling sponsorship of the 2010 Olympics. Don't hesitate to get your Official Condom of the US Curling Team.
If that's not a reason in and of itself to love curling, what is?
So...I submit for your approval...possibly the strangest, yet most strangely compelling sponsorship of the 2010 Olympics. Don't hesitate to get your Official Condom of the US Curling Team.
If that's not a reason in and of itself to love curling, what is?
Thursday, February 11, 2010
A Rose by Any Other Name . . .
So...I think I made my child's daycare teacher a little uncomfortable this morning...
Let me begin by explaining that we taught The Punkin the proper word for her vagina. There's several reasons we did this, but to sum it up: we call an arm an arm and a leg a leg, why should we make up words for other parts of the body?
Also pertinent to the story, we have a new teacher at daycare. The Punkin moved up to the three year old class last week. So we're still breaking her in (whether that refers to The Punkin or The Teacher, you can decide :-)
Well, this morning The Punkin told me that her 'gina hurt. Lovely. She's had some problems with her bowel movements the last couple of weeks, please don't let her be getting a bladder infection, too.
So when I dropped her off at daycare the teacher asked if she was still 'running off' -- that's a colloquialism for diarrhea -- and I said it was coming and going. Then I told her what The Punkin had said that morning: "My 'gina hurts." I asked her if she'd just make a note if The Punkin told her that today when she went to the bathroom.
As I was saying "I hope she's not getting a bladder infection, too" the teacher's eyes got wide and she took a step back. Hmmm, she must be a germaphobe, I thought to myself.
Nope. Turns out it was not the loose bowels, potential bladder infection and lingering cough from a recent bout of croup that was getting to her. It was the fact that our 2-almost-3-year-old knew the word vagina.
"Oh, oh, I don't want to hear the bad word," she said.
"Bad word?" I asked, confused because I still thought this was about bladder infections.
Nope, the bad word was Vagina.
Now, I knew we would eventually encounter some resistence for teaching The Punkin to say vagina, but this is not the form I thought it would take. I figured we'd be talking to the teacher because The Punkin had taught another kid to say it and that kid's mom hadn't taken too kindly to the added vocabulary. But I had not expected to hear a grown woman call it A Bad Word.
Now I guess I'm going to have to rehearse the speech about Vagina-Is-Not-a-Bad-Word,-It-Just-Makes-Some-Adults-Uncomfortable-So-Let's-Just-Use-It-at-Home-and-the-Doctor's-Office-But-Not-at-School. I knew I'd be telling her this someday, I just didn't think it would be for this reason. Or so soon.
I suppose we'll have that talk tonight. I want to be proactive about it because I don't want her to use it repeatedly at school and then her teacher put the idea in her head that it's a bad word. There are plenty of tacky, vulgar and classless ways to refer to a woman's genitalia. Vagina is not one of them. Let's not be ashamed to give it a name.
Vagina, Vagina, Vagina
UPDATE: After some thought about this, I decided not to bring it up yet. The Punkin doesn't use the word often enough that I think it will be a problem with her Teacher. And I can't see the Teacher calling it a Bad Word unless The Punkin is using it a lot. So I'm not going to make it a problem until it becomes a problem.
Let me begin by explaining that we taught The Punkin the proper word for her vagina. There's several reasons we did this, but to sum it up: we call an arm an arm and a leg a leg, why should we make up words for other parts of the body?
Also pertinent to the story, we have a new teacher at daycare. The Punkin moved up to the three year old class last week. So we're still breaking her in (whether that refers to The Punkin or The Teacher, you can decide :-)
Well, this morning The Punkin told me that her 'gina hurt. Lovely. She's had some problems with her bowel movements the last couple of weeks, please don't let her be getting a bladder infection, too.
So when I dropped her off at daycare the teacher asked if she was still 'running off' -- that's a colloquialism for diarrhea -- and I said it was coming and going. Then I told her what The Punkin had said that morning: "My 'gina hurts." I asked her if she'd just make a note if The Punkin told her that today when she went to the bathroom.
As I was saying "I hope she's not getting a bladder infection, too" the teacher's eyes got wide and she took a step back. Hmmm, she must be a germaphobe, I thought to myself.
Nope. Turns out it was not the loose bowels, potential bladder infection and lingering cough from a recent bout of croup that was getting to her. It was the fact that our 2-almost-3-year-old knew the word vagina.
"Oh, oh, I don't want to hear the bad word," she said.
"Bad word?" I asked, confused because I still thought this was about bladder infections.
Nope, the bad word was Vagina.
Now, I knew we would eventually encounter some resistence for teaching The Punkin to say vagina, but this is not the form I thought it would take. I figured we'd be talking to the teacher because The Punkin had taught another kid to say it and that kid's mom hadn't taken too kindly to the added vocabulary. But I had not expected to hear a grown woman call it A Bad Word.
Now I guess I'm going to have to rehearse the speech about Vagina-Is-Not-a-Bad-Word,-It-Just-Makes-Some-Adults-Uncomfortable-So-Let's-Just-Use-It-at-Home-and-the-Doctor's-Office-But-Not-at-School. I knew I'd be telling her this someday, I just didn't think it would be for this reason. Or so soon.
I suppose we'll have that talk tonight. I want to be proactive about it because I don't want her to use it repeatedly at school and then her teacher put the idea in her head that it's a bad word. There are plenty of tacky, vulgar and classless ways to refer to a woman's genitalia. Vagina is not one of them. Let's not be ashamed to give it a name.
Vagina, Vagina, Vagina
UPDATE: After some thought about this, I decided not to bring it up yet. The Punkin doesn't use the word often enough that I think it will be a problem with her Teacher. And I can't see the Teacher calling it a Bad Word unless The Punkin is using it a lot. So I'm not going to make it a problem until it becomes a problem.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Croup is a Bitch
Croup is a bitch. She's a bitch that sneaks into your house in the middle of the night and closes up your child's airways so that you are awoken at 3:30 a.m. to the tell-tell sound of a barking cough coming from the baby's room. If you've been around someone with croup, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't heard it before, once you do hear it you will instantly know what it is.
Croup almost always starts in the night; it almost always sounds better during the day; but it's 100% always scary. It's scary when your child coughs and sounds more like an animal than a baby. It's scary when their coughing makes them cry. And it's even scarier when they wheeze as they inhale. Let me repeat: croup is a bitch.
I'm grateful I live in a time and place where a quick trip to the doctor's office will yield a prescription for steriods that will take down the swelling and return breathing to normal. I try not to be the momma who's always rushing to the doctor's office. (Well, once I got past the first 18 months of momma-hood, I try not to be, but that's another blog altogether.) I'll wait out a fever for a couple of days and I'll let loose stools go for close to two weeks before we call. But I don't mess with the croup. This is the third time in three years that we've had it and my rule is: you wake up with the croup and momma's calling the doctor. (But now, I do wait until the office opens, but again, another blog.)
So now, we've had a dose of medicine at the doctor's office and the rest is waiting to be picked up at the pharmacy this afternoon. Hopefully, we'll have a more restful night tonight. And hopefully croup will go away and stay far, far away for a long time.
Croup almost always starts in the night; it almost always sounds better during the day; but it's 100% always scary. It's scary when your child coughs and sounds more like an animal than a baby. It's scary when their coughing makes them cry. And it's even scarier when they wheeze as they inhale. Let me repeat: croup is a bitch.
I'm grateful I live in a time and place where a quick trip to the doctor's office will yield a prescription for steriods that will take down the swelling and return breathing to normal. I try not to be the momma who's always rushing to the doctor's office. (Well, once I got past the first 18 months of momma-hood, I try not to be, but that's another blog altogether.) I'll wait out a fever for a couple of days and I'll let loose stools go for close to two weeks before we call. But I don't mess with the croup. This is the third time in three years that we've had it and my rule is: you wake up with the croup and momma's calling the doctor. (But now, I do wait until the office opens, but again, another blog.)
So now, we've had a dose of medicine at the doctor's office and the rest is waiting to be picked up at the pharmacy this afternoon. Hopefully, we'll have a more restful night tonight. And hopefully croup will go away and stay far, far away for a long time.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
iPad…from Apple or Always?
When Apple announce their newest product this week, people immediately began making jokes about how the name sounded more like a feminine hygiene product than a groundbreaking computer.
Honestly, did no one at Apple see that one coming?
One of the questions I’ve heard batted around because of this is: Does Apple employ any women on their marketing team? I think a better question is this: Does Apple employ anyone with a sense of humor?
No, I’ll admit, I didn’t pick up on the connection to begin with. My first thought was “huh, isn’t that name a big close to iPod?” But Apple is a BIG company. At least one person had to crack that joke. They should have known. Or maybe they did and, as Andy Ihnatko, a tech columnist at the Chicago Sun-Times pointed out, they just knew that they could call it anything, even “mangled baby duck” and people would still buy it.
So, what’s the final outcome going to be? The jokes will last for a day or two until something else comes along to grab our attention. Then, the general public will forget them until December when they make a brief resurgence during year-in-review programs. Computer geeks will giggle over this for a while. And Apple won’t care because they’ll be laughing all the way to the bank.
Honestly, did no one at Apple see that one coming?
One of the questions I’ve heard batted around because of this is: Does Apple employ any women on their marketing team? I think a better question is this: Does Apple employ anyone with a sense of humor?
No, I’ll admit, I didn’t pick up on the connection to begin with. My first thought was “huh, isn’t that name a big close to iPod?” But Apple is a BIG company. At least one person had to crack that joke. They should have known. Or maybe they did and, as Andy Ihnatko, a tech columnist at the Chicago Sun-Times pointed out, they just knew that they could call it anything, even “mangled baby duck” and people would still buy it.
So, what’s the final outcome going to be? The jokes will last for a day or two until something else comes along to grab our attention. Then, the general public will forget them until December when they make a brief resurgence during year-in-review programs. Computer geeks will giggle over this for a while. And Apple won’t care because they’ll be laughing all the way to the bank.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
I Brake for Chupacabras
As further proof of my dorkiness, let me introduce you to one of my favorite xenocreatures. The Chupacabra.
I got excited when I saw an internet story about the latest possible sighting of a chupacabra. A television station in San Antonio recently ran a story about a possible chupacabra corpse. I'll warn you before you click on it, it's pretty gross looking. It actually looks more like a mummified raccoon than the mythical descriptions of the chupacabra, but, hey, who knows what the DNA will come back as?
Do I really want a chupacabra to be found? That's like asking if I want the Loch Ness Monster or a Yeti to be found. One one hand, seeing proof that these creatures exist would be fascinating. One the other hand, these animals would become so hunted and harassed that it may be better for them to remain 'undiscovered'.
One creature I would certainly like to see researchers find is a Thylacine someday. Also known as the Tasmanian Tiger, the Thylacine was the modern world's largest carniverous marsupial. The last known Thylacine died in captivity in 1936, but reported sightings have continued until the current day.
Unlike the chupacabra, Yeti/Bigfoot or Loch Ness Monster , the Thylacine is an actual, scientifically validated animal. If a small population could be found in the wilds of Tasmania, it would be the equivalent of bringing the animal back from extinction. And with all the ecological problems in the world today, that would be a cause to celebrate.
I got excited when I saw an internet story about the latest possible sighting of a chupacabra. A television station in San Antonio recently ran a story about a possible chupacabra corpse. I'll warn you before you click on it, it's pretty gross looking. It actually looks more like a mummified raccoon than the mythical descriptions of the chupacabra, but, hey, who knows what the DNA will come back as?
Do I really want a chupacabra to be found? That's like asking if I want the Loch Ness Monster or a Yeti to be found. One one hand, seeing proof that these creatures exist would be fascinating. One the other hand, these animals would become so hunted and harassed that it may be better for them to remain 'undiscovered'.
One creature I would certainly like to see researchers find is a Thylacine someday. Also known as the Tasmanian Tiger, the Thylacine was the modern world's largest carniverous marsupial. The last known Thylacine died in captivity in 1936, but reported sightings have continued until the current day.
Unlike the chupacabra, Yeti/Bigfoot or Loch Ness Monster , the Thylacine is an actual, scientifically validated animal. If a small population could be found in the wilds of Tasmania, it would be the equivalent of bringing the animal back from extinction. And with all the ecological problems in the world today, that would be a cause to celebrate.
I don't understand . . .
I did a search for "tea cup" at factorycardoutlet.com Can someone tell me why in the world Dream Team Football Player Costume came back as a response???
Friday, January 15, 2010
What am I Excited About Today?
What am I excited about today?
I'm excited about two things.
1) I finally figured out how to make a link on this blog page. Yippee!
2) I'm excited about a book I bought yesterday -- Heat Wave by Richard Castle. Well, it's kind of by Richard Castle. Richard Castle, as portrayed by Nathan Fillion of Firefly and Dr. Horrible fame, is the eponymous character in the ABC show Castle. He's a fictional character and how he's published a book. I understand he also has Twitter and Facebook accounts, but after publishing a book, a little social networking seems rather tame for someone who doesn't even physically exist.
For anyone who hasn't been following the show, Castle is a mystery writer in NYC who finagles his way into following around Detective Kate Beckett, played by Stana Katic. After killing off his last main character, he is suffering from writer's block until he meets her. She becomes his (somewhat put-upon) muse and the result is a character based on her -- Nikki Heat -- and the novel Heat Wave.
Now, I know Richard Castle didn't really write this book. ABC hired a ghost writer to write it under the nom de plum of Castle. But I'm willing to play along with the gag. I think it's a brilliant publicity move. And I'm excited about reading this book.
I'm excited about two things.
1) I finally figured out how to make a link on this blog page. Yippee!
2) I'm excited about a book I bought yesterday -- Heat Wave by Richard Castle. Well, it's kind of by Richard Castle. Richard Castle, as portrayed by Nathan Fillion of Firefly and Dr. Horrible fame, is the eponymous character in the ABC show Castle. He's a fictional character and how he's published a book. I understand he also has Twitter and Facebook accounts, but after publishing a book, a little social networking seems rather tame for someone who doesn't even physically exist.
For anyone who hasn't been following the show, Castle is a mystery writer in NYC who finagles his way into following around Detective Kate Beckett, played by Stana Katic. After killing off his last main character, he is suffering from writer's block until he meets her. She becomes his (somewhat put-upon) muse and the result is a character based on her -- Nikki Heat -- and the novel Heat Wave.
Now, I know Richard Castle didn't really write this book. ABC hired a ghost writer to write it under the nom de plum of Castle. But I'm willing to play along with the gag. I think it's a brilliant publicity move. And I'm excited about reading this book.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Potty Humor
The Punkin is of an age to be potty training and we are working on just that. Potty training is a mix of triumph (yes! we pee-peed in the potty!), backsliding (uh-oh, we had an accident) and occassional humor. ... Or, depending on how you look at it, lots and lots of humor.
Most of the humor deals with #2. For some reason, #1 just isn't as funny. But I have lots of funny stories to tell you about #2. For example, this weekend I left the Punkin in the living room and ran downstairs to put up a book. I was gone for 30 seconds, tops. 30 seconds. ... ok, maybe 45 seconds, but I think you get my point. I come back upstairs and immediately notice that there's an additional aroma that was not present when I went downstairs.
"What's that smell?" I ask.
"Poopy," the Punkin replies without even looking up from her doll.
"Did we poop in our pants?"
"Yes," she deadpans, just as calmly as if I'd asked if she had enjoyed school that day. The child should consider a career as a straightman for a stand up comic.
But this was still a better answer than the previous week. She had pooped in her pants and I was hoping she hadn't.
"Did you really poopy?" I asked.
She turned around, stuck out her butt and said "Here, smell."
I thought they weren't supposed to be smart-asses until they were teenagers!
As funny as these little asides were, the real coup de grace (or, should it be pooh de grace?) came last night at bathtime. I'm sure you see where this is going by now.
We had finished with the actual bath and were just playing in the tub. The Punkin stood up in the tub, reached around and started picking at her butt. I told her to stop that and she ignored me. Again, I told her to stop it and this time she moved her hand, but she got a very strange look on her face. The next second plop! plop! and two turds splashed down into the bathwater.
"I pooped," said Captain Obvious.
There was a pause from Mommy as I took this in, then I did the only thing I could do...I laughed.
Now, the Punkin was a little upset about this turn of events. She's at the point in potty training where, while she still has accidents, she doesn't like to and she feels bummed out afterwards. While I got her out of the bathtub, wiped her butt and toweled her off, she kept lamenting "I pooped, I pooped."
However, by the time she was clean and dry, she saw the humor in it, too. She ran her little naked butt down the hall looking for daddy (who, coincidentally, was in the other bathroom having a #2 moment of his own). "Daddy, Daddy, I pooped in the bath," she announced as she ran down the hall and into our bedroom. "Daddy, I pooped in the bath," she reitterated as she knocked on the bathroom door.
"Hmmm....Did you?" Daddy answered hesitantly. I don't blame him. This isn't something you hear everyday.
A little while later, Punkin in her pajamas, bathtub depoopified, I took a moment to do what any 21st Century Mom would do...I texted several friends to enlighten them with my child's latest antics. Once upon a time we would have savored this story for years, waiting for the day we could embarass her by sharing it with a boyfriend of fiance. But thanks to the wonders of technology, we can share it immediately with friends, family, and total strangers on the internet. Now, if whoever invented the internet could just invent a quick and easy way to potty train kids . . .
Most of the humor deals with #2. For some reason, #1 just isn't as funny. But I have lots of funny stories to tell you about #2. For example, this weekend I left the Punkin in the living room and ran downstairs to put up a book. I was gone for 30 seconds, tops. 30 seconds. ... ok, maybe 45 seconds, but I think you get my point. I come back upstairs and immediately notice that there's an additional aroma that was not present when I went downstairs.
"What's that smell?" I ask.
"Poopy," the Punkin replies without even looking up from her doll.
"Did we poop in our pants?"
"Yes," she deadpans, just as calmly as if I'd asked if she had enjoyed school that day. The child should consider a career as a straightman for a stand up comic.
But this was still a better answer than the previous week. She had pooped in her pants and I was hoping she hadn't.
"Did you really poopy?" I asked.
She turned around, stuck out her butt and said "Here, smell."
I thought they weren't supposed to be smart-asses until they were teenagers!
As funny as these little asides were, the real coup de grace (or, should it be pooh de grace?) came last night at bathtime. I'm sure you see where this is going by now.
We had finished with the actual bath and were just playing in the tub. The Punkin stood up in the tub, reached around and started picking at her butt. I told her to stop that and she ignored me. Again, I told her to stop it and this time she moved her hand, but she got a very strange look on her face. The next second plop! plop! and two turds splashed down into the bathwater.
"I pooped," said Captain Obvious.
There was a pause from Mommy as I took this in, then I did the only thing I could do...I laughed.
Now, the Punkin was a little upset about this turn of events. She's at the point in potty training where, while she still has accidents, she doesn't like to and she feels bummed out afterwards. While I got her out of the bathtub, wiped her butt and toweled her off, she kept lamenting "I pooped, I pooped."
However, by the time she was clean and dry, she saw the humor in it, too. She ran her little naked butt down the hall looking for daddy (who, coincidentally, was in the other bathroom having a #2 moment of his own). "Daddy, Daddy, I pooped in the bath," she announced as she ran down the hall and into our bedroom. "Daddy, I pooped in the bath," she reitterated as she knocked on the bathroom door.
"Hmmm....Did you?" Daddy answered hesitantly. I don't blame him. This isn't something you hear everyday.
A little while later, Punkin in her pajamas, bathtub depoopified, I took a moment to do what any 21st Century Mom would do...I texted several friends to enlighten them with my child's latest antics. Once upon a time we would have savored this story for years, waiting for the day we could embarass her by sharing it with a boyfriend of fiance. But thanks to the wonders of technology, we can share it immediately with friends, family, and total strangers on the internet. Now, if whoever invented the internet could just invent a quick and easy way to potty train kids . . .
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Jinkies! Another Blog!
The Punkin has developed a serious love affair with Scooby Doo and that's OK with us. Her daddy and I grew up watching those meddling kids and we're encouraging her infatuation. A group of kids working together and thinking critically to figure out problems? Scooby Doo's producers didn't intend it to be educational television, but you can do much worse with children's television these days.
Scooby Doo doesn't teach the skills of critical thinking, but it does set an example kids can begin with, namely, if something doesn't make sense, investigate it. So, in the spirit of Scooby Doo, I've looked at the clues and come up with my own conclusions which I'd like to share (all in good fun).
1) The Mystery, Inc. gang are all trust fund babies. Think about it... They travel the world solving mysteries, but never seem to work or get paid. The money is coming from somewhere.
2) Probably from the bank accounts of their big-shot lawyer parents. Ever notice how many of the "clues" found by Scooby and company involve breaking and entering? They must be awful confident that someone is going to bail them out of jail.
3) Laws do not apply to the Scooby Doo Gang, not even the laws of physics. Not only are they never arrested for B&E, but the physics police never comes after them, not matter how blatantly they break the law. One of my favorite examples is a scene in which an ironing board is laid across the top of a washing machine and a fan is placed at the back of it. The ironing board gives the washing machine enough lift to zip around like a low flying airplane with Shaggy riding on top. Orville and Wilbur probably wish they'd had it so easy.
OK, that's three...that's a good number to stop on. I'm sure as we watch more and more Scooby Doo, I'll come up with more pithy observations. Until then, I think I'll go have a Scooby Snack.
Scooby Doo doesn't teach the skills of critical thinking, but it does set an example kids can begin with, namely, if something doesn't make sense, investigate it. So, in the spirit of Scooby Doo, I've looked at the clues and come up with my own conclusions which I'd like to share (all in good fun).
1) The Mystery, Inc. gang are all trust fund babies. Think about it... They travel the world solving mysteries, but never seem to work or get paid. The money is coming from somewhere.
2) Probably from the bank accounts of their big-shot lawyer parents. Ever notice how many of the "clues" found by Scooby and company involve breaking and entering? They must be awful confident that someone is going to bail them out of jail.
3) Laws do not apply to the Scooby Doo Gang, not even the laws of physics. Not only are they never arrested for B&E, but the physics police never comes after them, not matter how blatantly they break the law. One of my favorite examples is a scene in which an ironing board is laid across the top of a washing machine and a fan is placed at the back of it. The ironing board gives the washing machine enough lift to zip around like a low flying airplane with Shaggy riding on top. Orville and Wilbur probably wish they'd had it so easy.
OK, that's three...that's a good number to stop on. I'm sure as we watch more and more Scooby Doo, I'll come up with more pithy observations. Until then, I think I'll go have a Scooby Snack.
If you write it, they will come
So it occurs to me last night that it's not exactly a blog if you don't write in it. HaHa...but you already knew that.
I want some followers. I don't want a lot. I don't harbor any dreams of being the next big thing and influencing the world, but I do want a handful of people who think I'm interesting enough to stop by every few days to see what I'm up to. I have one follower right now, but she's a friend, so I think it's a pity-follow. ;-)
But if I'm going to seek followers, then I must uphold my end of the bargain and write... on a regular basis... about semi-interesting things... or uninteresting things in an interesting manner. So that's my new year's resolution. ha ha ... how vague is that?
And as an encouragement (to me, to you, to the world?) I'll do a giveaway when I get to a dozen followers. Nothing big, but just something to celebrate getting a dozen people to listen to me. Just, when it finally happens, someone remind me that I said this. It might take a while to get there.
I want some followers. I don't want a lot. I don't harbor any dreams of being the next big thing and influencing the world, but I do want a handful of people who think I'm interesting enough to stop by every few days to see what I'm up to. I have one follower right now, but she's a friend, so I think it's a pity-follow. ;-)
But if I'm going to seek followers, then I must uphold my end of the bargain and write... on a regular basis... about semi-interesting things... or uninteresting things in an interesting manner. So that's my new year's resolution. ha ha ... how vague is that?
And as an encouragement (to me, to you, to the world?) I'll do a giveaway when I get to a dozen followers. Nothing big, but just something to celebrate getting a dozen people to listen to me. Just, when it finally happens, someone remind me that I said this. It might take a while to get there.
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