The Overcash Prophecy

Apparently, according to my friend Robin, the chinese will be taking over the planet in the next 20 to 30 years, and we should all be educating ourselves in the mother tongue now so as to have a leg up when The Appocalypse comes.

I am now recording this for the future. Consider it my own little time capsule, so in 2026 I can look back and say "gee, he was right" Actually, I guess I'll be saying the chinese equivalent, but I am but an egg. I need a good decade to begin to master another language, and I'm still working on ASL.

There ya go Robin. Now get your butt on a train and come visit your honorary nephews. Who else is going to teach them about The Doctrine of Carl Sagan??

He lets me keep him humble....

What you would have overheard as we practiced sign language with our 2 year old today:

"This is the sign for choo-choo train."

"Wow. Cool. Cuz when you rub your fingers together like that, it actually sounds like a train."

"Uh..no.. because it is the motion of a train moving over tracks."

"No, it sounds like a train"

"Dear, this is SIGN LANGUAGE. Created for the DEAF."

*Blank Stare*

"Oh. Yeah... Shut up."

Hit and Run...

I know I've been sporradic with my posting of late, and I can only plead Holiday-itis. Between playgroups, christmas parties, cookie swaps (2 so far), more playgroups, and shopping and wrapping and decorating.. I'm amazed I still find time to pee and brush my teeth between bouts of laugh/sobbing and emoting on my hair. Speaking of emoting on my hair, yesterday it again paid the price for my emotional outbursts... I cut off 6 inches or so and it is now in a short layered bob around my head. This is good because it is what I refer to as "wash'n wear hair" - meaning I can wash it, squoosh a little mousse or gel in it, scrunch it up and go. This is not so good because when they say a "bob" they don't tell you it means you will end up actually looking like your name might be "bob".

Which reminds me, I used to use the name "Bob Oswald" to register all my software. That's neither here nor there, really, but is somehow humorous to me now....

Any road, I now have short, fabulous soccer-mom hair and I may have to put some streaks of purple just so I can still freak everyone out at the Mommy and Me playdates. Note to self: now might be a good time to buy combat boots. You know, before I give in to the brainwashing and become TOTALLY establishment. (I still refuse to buy a membership to Wee Gym, so at least I still have a few hold-outs.) And when I get invited to Gymboree again, I can always flash my tattoo and shake up the cultist mini-van set a little.

Oh, and Mom if you ever read this... thank you for never forcing us to sit on the lap of some guy's husband dressed as Santa. Jack went willingly, but I was astonished at the number of moms who were content with photos of their precious little darling sobbing uncontrollably in the lap of a complete stranger. Seriously. My therapy would be a lot more expensive if you had forced me to sit on some guy's lap against my will every year.

Oh..and if the real Santa is reading this... I was only kidding about the soccer moms being in a mini-van cult. Please bring me a mini-van. I need something that will haul all the toilet paper I'll be buying at Costco. And we'll leave you the good cookies this year, not the ones that I burned because I was wrapping presents and forgot I had put that last batch in the oven. And I'll forgive you for never bringing me a radio controlled car "because they were for boys". K, Thanks.

Archive Asylum

I copied the entries from the LJ I had started for our little family over to here, for posterity, since when the new site is up and running the Blog links will undoubtedly be pointed here. I marked the subjects with a none-too-subtle [ARCHIVE] in them to avoid confusion since this is the "new" Blog.

Then again, the term "confusion" would imply that anyone actually reads this drivel. And if you do... well, you have my sympathies. Have a coke and a smile, and try not to poke yourself with sharp things.

Love,
MeL

Reasons to love Jack...

He bites his sandwiches into shapes, and then plays with them. Today, his grilled cheese sandwich was a pirate ship (which he sailed around his tray, saying "Pirate, ARRRHHHG!") and then a Telephone (which he put to his ear and spoke into, which was adorable despite the toast crumbs and cheese grease he got in his hair).

Lately I've been giving him Zerberts on his belly. (You know, when you press your lips against the skin and blow, making a "PHHHHBBBBBTTTTT" sound...yeah, that one.) He loves these, in the way that one loves and hates being tickled. That's the part that's nothing extraordinary. The part that makes me want to grab him and squeeze him till he pops is that he calls them "Zoo-burps". I gave him ZooBurps for half an hour today, just to watch him lift up his shirt and say over and over "Zoo Burp, Mommy! ZOO BURP!"

Now if I can just keep his dad from teaching him other bodily-related games, all will be well. (IF he starts making fart sounds with his arm pit, heads will roll.)

December already?

November, what happened to you? And how did you escape me so fast? I suppose the answer is that amidst the Thanksgiving hub-bub, settling in with the new baby, and trying to get a leg up on Christmas shopping... November quietly slunk away into the corner and sulked until December came to the rescue and he could punch his card and disappear until next year.

The Christmas shopping is nearly complete, the house is decorated, the tree trimmed... nothing to do now but bake until my arms fall off and then eat until I explode. Ah, this truly is the season of joy....