Go Meat!

I am not as ashamed as I should be to be completely amused by this ad:

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

When curses are directed at other people, I absolutely know for a fact that they are complete hogwash. But I'm considerably more open-minded when it comes to curses directed at me.

Allison Silverman
Have Fun

I have never had so much fun at the park

What a difference each day makes

Earlier this week I read about Hau's project to photograph an aspect of her family's life every day for a year. She encouraged her readers to participate, and almost without thinking I told her I wanted to do it. So I am. I've set up a flickr set, and put a little flickr rotating photo doohickey in my sidebar. I may also occasionally post my "365" photos to the blog.

After I set up the "365" set, I took a peek to see who else is posting using "365" as a label. Turns out lots of people are. Plus, Emily let me know about a 365 Kids group on flickr. Take a look, there is some good stuff out there.

I told Chris that I was going to do this, and he gave me a smile suggesting he recognized my desire to jump into this kind of project with great enthusiasm but maybe not too much thought. He knows I get excited and take on projects that end up having a life of their own. In this case, I have thought some about how I can realistically engage in a photo a day project. I make no promise that I will upload my daily photo to flickr every day. I can take a picture (or 30) every day, but I will need a little slack on the posting side. I will try to do it at least weekly.

As much as it makes me nervous to type this, I promise to post a photo even if I am not happy with any of the photos I take on a given day. This is going to be the hard part for me. I make no claims on being a great photographer, but I am vain. That aside, I will try to get past my discomfort to give you a daily glimpse into what is happening in my world.

Photo 1/365: Ada post-nap

So, who'll join me? It will be fun!

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

In the long run, everything is a toaster.

Bruce Greenwald

Ceci n'est pas une pipe

I usually shower before Chris leaves for work. Recently, Chris has had several early morning appointments and has had to leave at an unreasonable hour. This has left me with Ada and a need to wash my hair.

Ada is much better than she used to be about me showering on her watch (she used to cry the moment I stepped behind the shower curtain), but I still have to talk to her about what I am doing. "Look, I'm soaping my face! And now I'm rinsing the soap off."

After the shower, I got out to dry off. Ada has seen me without clothes before, and I am not concerned about her seeing me naked. (Well, except for her comments on my less than firm belly.) But today Ada regarded me with a new eye, and pointing at my pubic hair declared: "mustache". "Mustache?" I asked. Nodding, she emphatically repeated "Mustache!"

I immediately thought of this Magritte painting.

Open letter to Barak Obama

Re: How not to get me to give you money

Dear Senator Obama:

I am sure that as a busy senator and hopeful Democratic nominee for president you have no direct oversight of the organizations or individuals who phone bank for you. However, I thought you might like to know that my interaction with a caller who contacted me on your behalf has made me less likely to give you money in the future.

Last night a guy called to ask me to support your campaign. I told him that I would not donate until you had a real plan for universal health care in the U.S.A. (health care access is my thing, and since every other Democratic candidate seems to have a plan, it doesn't seem too much to ask.) The guy responded: "He TOTALLY has a plan!" and hung up. Maybe it's me, but insulting and hanging up on potential donors doesn't seem like a great way to get them feeling the wallet-opening love.

I am sure the call was not random, as I have given money to Democratic candidates in the past and am on various lists of left-leaning, bleeding heart tree-huggers. It seems like a bad policy for the people reaching out to me (and my credit card) to insult or annoy me. Maybe you know better, I mean, you did raise $25 million so far from 108,000 contributors. So maybe this "piss off the donor" thing is working for you. But just in case it isn't the thing for everyone (except me), I thought you might want to suggest your phone bank managers do a little training.

Sincerely,

Nonlinear (I still won't contribute until you have a plan for universal health care) Girl


Edited to add: I sent a (slightly less churlish) note to the campaign via the website, and this morning got a form-email completely unrelated to what I'd told them. The email was super rah-rah, yay for us, and for you (assumed contributor to this presidential campaign juggernaut). I did learn that he actually had 104,000 (not 108,000) first quarter contributors, so at least I got a little fact-checking out of it.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week (Susie Edition)

photo by my pal Susie

So now every time I see the ugly doll that Ada likes, I think of new my puss lyrics. Like this one:

My puss teach Harvard classes
Your puss emit greenhouse gasses

-Susie

Eggstravaganza

Thank goodness for the Stute Fish and Mother-Woman. If I had not seen the cool photos of their lovely egg decorations, I would not have remembered to download the pictures from our visit to eggland Ada's grandparents' house. But lucky for both you and me, I did see their pictures. After hosting a wonderful (and woefully unphotographed) late Passover seder on Saturday, the nonlinear family headed down the road to search out an array of real and plastic eggs. Sadly, most of the photos look something like this:



or this:



Yup, some of those dyed eggs leaked. And a blue and purple marbled egg would be really cool, if I hadn't peeled it intending to eat it. But I challenge you to hold up a blue and purple marbled egg and bite into it. I know the dye is food safe, but there is just something about neon blue that screams "DO NOT EAT!" So I didn't.

Despite this photograph, Ada had a great time hunting for eggs. She really enjoyed the hunt, and her grandparents did a perfect job of "hiding" eggs for her. Plus, the more I see of it, the more I understand what a racket this whole series of Christian holidays is. For easter Ada got real eggs (lovingly dyed by her grandparents, uncle and her beloved almost-cousin), plastic eggs filled with raisin packets, tiny oval playing cards, silly putty and play-doh, plus a soft white sheep (cryptically dubbed "goat"). Oh, and a basket. Plus a little chocolate and a full satisfying dinner of ham, ham and more ham. (For a girl who has been much pickier of late, she can really pack it in when she likes something.)

Lest you think that we spent all week peeling and discarding blue eggs, I share this as evidence that we also worked in the garden. And by "worked" I mean that Ada asked to see worms, which I dutifully dug up and presented to her so that she could touch them and then demand that I put them "home" (back in the dirt).

Got insomnia? I might know why

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

Dennis Mitsubishi, where every Friday is Fatah Friday, with free rubber swords for all the kiddies. Our prices are lower than the evildoers' every day - just ask the Pope.

As reported in Harpers Magazine (March 2007), from a preview radio advertisement for Dennis Mitsubishi in Columbus, Ohio leaked to the media in September 2006. (After the Council on American-Islamic Relations issued a protest, the ad was cancelled.)

Treasuring Toddlers Tiptoeing through the Tulips

Welcome to my home among the tulips
I learned an important parenting lesson in a tulip field: when you are in a scenic, pastoral setting in which you want nothing more than to take an adorable photo of your child frolicking amid gorgeous flowers, your child will do everything in his or her power to make that impossible.


Lucky for me, I did not have to learn this the hard way. I took in this lesson several years ago, when my mother-in-law and I went to see the tulips in bloom at a local farm. We watched (and laughed) as parent after parent plopped down their child (or two or three) amid the tulips, crouched to take a picture, only to find the child not cooperating in capturing the moment. What inevitably ensued was some version of the parent yelling/commanding/cajoling: "look over here/smile at mommy/don't pull that/stop eating mud/no eating flowers/turn around/stop crying". It was a near universal experience for the parents and children attending the tulip festival that year. I appreciate those parents, because their pain was my lesson learned.





Monkey Boy makes a break for it

With this in mind, I had low expectations about what photos I could capture on my own trip to the farm with Ada, Monkey Boy and J (and their moms). Going into the excursion with such a limited goal made it more fun for me (if not for the others in my little party).

The intensity of her love for the little house can not be overstated.
The tulip farm has a child-friendly area, with a big hay bale hill (with tube slide), a sandbox, a fake cow to rope, Dutch wooden shoes to try on, a "cow" ride, and (Ada's favorite) a child-sized house. We spent much of our visit in and around this little house. It gave Ada so much pleasure to be there, enough to make up for the screams of outrage that accompanied my attempt to change her diaper before she floated away in her own pee. Made up for the complaints about the length of the car ride (about 40 minutes), and almost made up for the highly abbreviated nap that followed the outing.

Look, a picture with actual tulips in it!

Toddler unpredictability aside, the tulip farm was a fun outing. Even better if you can go during the week, when there are fewer crowds and the parking is free.

Random quote and unrelated photos of the week

Well, I really think he shatters the myth of white supremacy once and for all.

Representative Charles Rangel (D-NY)
in response to a question asking what he thinks about President Bush.

Real Moms

So Mo tagged me with the "Real Moms" meme, and while struggling with what to say, I took a shower and Bingo! Inspiration. But not like you think. In the shower I started to think about the dinner I was going to have, at a nice restaurant, thanks to the wonderful Ellen and Jiro (and their Ada-sitting generosity). The dinner, by the way, was fantastic. Highly recommended, especially when you can get someone else to foot the bill. But about that shower.

I was in the shower because I'd just come from a hair appointment. I love my stylist, but in an attempt to accentuate what curls I have, she'd managed to give me a bit of an evil clown look. Ok, maybe not quite that bad, but there was a definite bump around the ear area.

So, here's what I came up with (once the water had sufficiently calmed my post-hairstyle panic):

Real Moms Ask For Help

This seems like a no-brainer, but it is one of the hardest things for me. Before I had Ada, I had no idea this would be difficult. Of course I'd ask for help! My friends and I had always been there for each other, so why would this be different? But even when you desperately need help, it is harder than you'd think to ask for it.

I still kick myself for not demanding to help Ellen more in the first few months of Monkey Boy's life. Only by seeing how amazingly generous she was with her time and energy did I understand what I should have done for her. (Shut it Ellen, I can wish I had known what to do.) Her help, and the help of numerous other friends and family, it made all the difference to me. I am so lucky that people (like my sister) volunteered to visit regularly, or brought me food, or let me borrow baby items I had not realized I'd need or want. That whole village thing, they weren't kidding about that. You get the idea.

When I had Ada, Ellen's help, and the help of numerous other friends and family, made all the difference to me. I am so lucky that people (like my sister) visited regularly, brought me food, walked the girl while I slept, and let me borrow baby items I had not realized I'd need or want. That whole village thing, they weren't kidding about that.

Now that I know, I try to offer help when I can. It seems so obvious now that moms (new and not so new) need help. This is not because my friends are not capable, but because the task of being a parent is so large and unending. And now that I know, I realize that other people see how necessary the help is. I am working on being better about asking for help when I need it.

And speaking of help, I needed it today.

Ada was driving me up a wall with her toddler ways. The whining was especially grinding, making me ready to flee the house even before Chris left at 8:30 this morning. It was all I could do to tolerate her all morning. Nurturing was pretty much out of the question. Of course on the day I need the time without her, she naps restlessly and wakes early, before my (required, demanded) alone time is "up." My time to write this, and to prepare for work tomorrow and to drink tea and be still. Especially on a day that has already felt so hard, I want time alone. Or at least I want to not spend more time alone with her. And since I used nap time to start this post on how key it is to ask for help, I vowed to reach out.

I called Ellen. But even after all this considering, it was hard to take her help. It was hard because she offered more than I'd planned on getting. I called her figuring I'd ask to come over so that Ada and I would not be alone together. She told me to leave Ada with her. Which is great, except that I know her plan A was a nap. So I feel guilty. But lovely Ellen refused to let me say no. It is embarrassingly hard to say yes, thanks, I will take this free time. It is hard to admit that I need it, and scary to take free time without a plan "worthy" of the space. But plan-free, here I am. Sitting at my dining room table typing, considering whether to prepare for tomorrow or to read my novel. Maybe a little of both. Or nothing. Drinking tea and being still are okay too.

Maybe I am not the poster child for asking for help. But whenever I do I am glad I have asked. And getting more than I've asked for is a lovely bonus. Give it a try, you might be surprised by the result.

** ** **

Oh right, the tagging part. Laurie and dodo, feel free to take this up if you'd like. No pressure.

In the mean time...

I am working on several real posts, including one responding to Mother-Woman's call for me to participate in the "real moms" meme, a post with some navel gazing, and some other stuff. But today I am working, and I really need to prepare for a presnentation. Plus I have to finish putting together a hagaddah for passover at my house next week. And there is some gardening to do. And I found some cool things to stencil. So here's what you get instead of real writing: thanks to a cool tool from dumpr I can seem my photos hung in museums!


It looks like they have some other interesting toys as well. Worth checking out.

Oh, and while I am sharing, I thought I'd tell you that while there is a ton of great stuff on youtube for kids (Ada continuously asks for the Sesame Street segment in which a girl takes her llama to the dentist), the following SS animation made her cry. She did have a fever at the time, but even in a healthy state, it is kind of sad and scary. Chris cried too, when I told him about the video and Ada's response.

Thanks for hanging in there while I procrastinate ruminate.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

I had some dreams,
They were clouds in my coffee.

Carly Simon

Must have been the pollen in my eyes

I walk out of the house, leaving Ada elbow deep in puzzle pieces and half learned nursery rhymes. I get into the car after admiring our newly tilled garden. There is a blast of Neko Case from the cd player, and I leave the disk in even though I am kind of a news junkie.

I back the car out of the driveway and head down the street, listening to Neko and feeling weirdly elated. I drive along 12th, where all the cherry trees are in bloom, and suddenly the size of my heart triples. The image is worn, but apt.

I turn onto Powell, and over the Ross Island Bridge the sun comes out. Again, I am feeling the particular joy of early spring. I've found one of those moments of where the world is so perfect, and here I am in it. And, well, I'm driving, so the moment doesn't stop me in my tracks, but it feels like that.

Heading up the hill, listening to Neko and singing, I start crying, sure that the drivers of the jeep from Minnesota and the biodiesel Volvo wonder about the tears streaming down my cheeks while I belt out a tune they can't hear.

And on to Salem.

Kelly, Mint and Forest

In honor of St. Patrick's day - I am wearing green. Green with envy, that is.

Here's what makes me feel jealous:

• A grad school friend with a high profile job;
• You get more hits than me;
• That friend who is pregnant again, and so easily;
• Why doesn't my hair ever look as good as hers?
• Being a little fish blogger, I sometimes won't write about something because I know the big fish are going to write about it and get much more attention for it.
  
• The coolest shoes are so much harder to find in size 9;
• How does she have such willpower?
  

So now I want to know, what are you jealous about? Don't leave me feeling that I'm the only one.

Random quote and unrelated photo of the week

When leaving a tip at the counter, I often do so with exaggerated gesturess, or take a bit longer than necessary to place the dollar in the dish, just to make sure they know what a nice and generous customer I am.

Amy Krouse Rosenthal
Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life

The elephant in the room

In December I got talked into taking a class to learn to make felt elephants. I'm glad I went, because it was a fun project and very easy, even for the sewing-challenged such as myself. I liked it so much that I made a second one for a new baby I know.


The photo is purposely fuzzy, in an attempt to hide the poor stitching on the first (orange) elephant. Her newer, blue friend is a bit better crafted, and I learned not to over-stuff the animal. I just learned that the woman who designed the elephant pattern is going to make a pig pattern, and I can't wait. In the mean time, I am working on using my new-found blanket stitch skills to edge a bib made from a scrap of oil cloth. I am a complete oil cloth addict, and own several items from Love Shine. Now that I live on the west coast and it is less convenient to pop over to New York for the weekend, I'm reduced to making my own bags, etc. To wit:


This is a work in progress; I need to finish the stitch around the outside, and add some velcro to the top.

Oil cloth is fantastic. It doesn't unravel, it repels water (and food), it comes in amazing colors and patterns. If it was a little less stiff, I would make a whole oil cloth wardrobe for myself.

And because I think it is so cool, I wanted to show you the felt board that my mother-in-law made for Ada:


Why didn't I think of this? Why didn't you think of this and tell me about it?