Marina Hall has made the perfect mix tape. Here's what's on it:
(Translation: These are the songs that make you say "mas" when they are over. So instead of listening to "Dance Tonight" 15 times in a row, I have created a CD full of all your "mases" to make our car rides more musically tolerable.)
1. "Dance Tonight," Paul McCartney
2. "Good to Sea," Pinback
3. "The Devil," PJ Harvey
4. "Australia," The Shins
5. "La vie, l'amour," Edith Piaf
6. "Kelly Watch the Stars," Air
7. "Iron Lion Zion," Bob Marley
8. "Stereo (Mono Mono)," The Brunettes
9. "Futuresex/LoveSound," Justin Timberlake
10. "15 Step," Radiohead
Clearly I have had a tiny bit of influence. Except for the reggae, that's all you.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Baby Crack
I never really understood what people meant when they said "baby crack."
I mean, I get what the point is.
Like that pacifier or whatever is so addicting it's like crack. But, not being from the street or having actually tried crack, I always felt awkward saying it.
I avoided the expression (which is more common in baby circles than you'd think) in the same way I avoid writing LOL or :)
But because of the fires, we've been inside for a week.
We've been reading books and trying on hats and listening to your favorite song, Paul McCartney's "Dance Tonight," all from the comfort of our ash and smoke-free little bubble.
But those things get old after three days.
And that's when we found it. The Baby Crack.
You wake up in the morning needing a fix. The first thing you say is"Lala?"
You will not eat breakfast until I tell you we're eating "Tubby Toast."
At very random times throughout the day you run to the TV and say "Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala?"
I try not to encourage it. I think crazy things like: "If I just sit here, she will forget about it and move on."
But you keep saying it and saying it until my brain goes numb.
"Lala? Lala?"
And as you notice that I'm not turning it on for the NINTH time in one day, your voice gets more and more frantic.
"LALA?? LALA??"
Until there's nothing left for me to do but be the enabler and turn it on. Plus, now I'm one of those mommies who says "baby crack" and uses emoticons :0
I mean, I get what the point is.
Like that pacifier or whatever is so addicting it's like crack. But, not being from the street or having actually tried crack, I always felt awkward saying it.
I avoided the expression (which is more common in baby circles than you'd think) in the same way I avoid writing LOL or :)
But because of the fires, we've been inside for a week.
We've been reading books and trying on hats and listening to your favorite song, Paul McCartney's "Dance Tonight," all from the comfort of our ash and smoke-free little bubble.
But those things get old after three days.
And that's when we found it. The Baby Crack.
You wake up in the morning needing a fix. The first thing you say is"Lala?"
You will not eat breakfast until I tell you we're eating "Tubby Toast."
At very random times throughout the day you run to the TV and say "Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala? Lala?"
I try not to encourage it. I think crazy things like: "If I just sit here, she will forget about it and move on."
But you keep saying it and saying it until my brain goes numb.
"Lala? Lala?"
And as you notice that I'm not turning it on for the NINTH time in one day, your voice gets more and more frantic.
"LALA?? LALA??"
Until there's nothing left for me to do but be the enabler and turn it on. Plus, now I'm one of those mommies who says "baby crack" and uses emoticons :0
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Cookies
Our city is on fire.
Even though we can't see the flames, they are all around us. The TV shows non-stop bad news and the mood around town is very scary.
Your school, like all the other schools, is closed. You and I are stuck inside. I don't want to open the windows because I don't want us breathing in all that ash and smoke. So we have watched hours of Signing Time and have finally found that Animal Planet channel, where you like looking at monkeys and meerkats.
But it's really stuffy in our house. And it's not big. So yesterday after we read every single one of your books - twice - I was at a loss. What can we do now? It's only 4:30 p.m. I can't put you to bed this early, can I?
And then, some weird 1950s maternal instinct hit me. I don't know where it came from. But the only solution to all the awfulness outside and our stir craziness inside, was warm chocolate chip cookies and milk.
We have a bag full of cookies leftover from my birthday in the freezer (thanks Tia Patty). I stuck a few in the oven, poured us a glass of milk, and for ten minutes, everything was OK.
Even though we can't see the flames, they are all around us. The TV shows non-stop bad news and the mood around town is very scary.
Your school, like all the other schools, is closed. You and I are stuck inside. I don't want to open the windows because I don't want us breathing in all that ash and smoke. So we have watched hours of Signing Time and have finally found that Animal Planet channel, where you like looking at monkeys and meerkats.
But it's really stuffy in our house. And it's not big. So yesterday after we read every single one of your books - twice - I was at a loss. What can we do now? It's only 4:30 p.m. I can't put you to bed this early, can I?
And then, some weird 1950s maternal instinct hit me. I don't know where it came from. But the only solution to all the awfulness outside and our stir craziness inside, was warm chocolate chip cookies and milk.
We have a bag full of cookies leftover from my birthday in the freezer (thanks Tia Patty). I stuck a few in the oven, poured us a glass of milk, and for ten minutes, everything was OK.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Guilt
There are legitimate reasons you are still going to daycare even though I have started my maternity leave.
Like, I need to clean the car. And install the baby car seat. And do laundry. And bring up your old clothes and crib from the garage. And get our lives ready for baby Ella.
There's no way I could do this AND stop you from eating lotion at the same time.
So you're at daycare.
Except this is wht I've really been doing: drinking mini cans of Coke, eating Pirate's Booty and watching hours and hours of "Project Runway" reruns.
Please don't hate me.
Like, I need to clean the car. And install the baby car seat. And do laundry. And bring up your old clothes and crib from the garage. And get our lives ready for baby Ella.
There's no way I could do this AND stop you from eating lotion at the same time.
So you're at daycare.
Except this is wht I've really been doing: drinking mini cans of Coke, eating Pirate's Booty and watching hours and hours of "Project Runway" reruns.
Please don't hate me.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
The truth about Lambie
Just because I have not been writing about Lambie much, does not mean you have forgotten all about him. The truth is, that stuffed lamb blanket thing is the real love of your life.
More than me. And, if you can believe it, more than DAAAD.
Lambie used to just be the thing in your crib that made you feel better at night. Then he became the thing that comforted you when you were sad or hurt. But recently the love affair has become much more serious.
The first sign was when you started saying Lambie all properlike: "laMBie."
Lately, if Lambie is not in your range of vision you will freak out. You will stop whatever it is you're doing - reading books or playing with my cell phone or eating ketchup with a spoon - and go get him. You give him a kiss, put him somewhere visible and go back to your mischievous activities.
So, today, you left the room for quite some time.
And it was really quiet.
And you know what they say about how if a baby is quiet it means you will walk into that room to find that baby setting the house on fire.
And, OK, once when we didn't check on you for a full five minutes, you walked into the living room with a weird look on your face only to discover you had dunked Lambie in the toilet.
But, back to today.
We went to check on you because it was unusually quiet. But instead of finding you with a fistfull of electrical sockets, you were sitting on the floor with Lambie and an empty cup. We walked in to hear you say "agua?" And then give Lambie some make-believe water to drink.
OK. So, do I just think this is amazing because I'm your mom and 8.5 months pregnant and totally emotional?
I mean, since when do you know how to share and imagine and be so caring?
I just really hope these qualities stick around when we bring Ella home.
********************************************************************
On a totally unrelated note, I downloaded the new Radiohead album, "In Rainbows." It is amazing. The band leaked its own album online for a "pay what you want" price, with free being an option.
I paid 5 pounds which came out to be about $11.
I think it will be a bit too complex for you, with its jazzy parts and erratic vocals. But then again, you have been surprising me with your musical taste lately.
Like when I played the first song off the new PJ Harvey record, when it was done you said, "mas? mas?"
Actually, maybe that was just as amazing and emotional for me as this whole glass of water thing.
More than me. And, if you can believe it, more than DAAAD.
Lambie used to just be the thing in your crib that made you feel better at night. Then he became the thing that comforted you when you were sad or hurt. But recently the love affair has become much more serious.
The first sign was when you started saying Lambie all properlike: "laMBie."
Lately, if Lambie is not in your range of vision you will freak out. You will stop whatever it is you're doing - reading books or playing with my cell phone or eating ketchup with a spoon - and go get him. You give him a kiss, put him somewhere visible and go back to your mischievous activities.
So, today, you left the room for quite some time.
And it was really quiet.
And you know what they say about how if a baby is quiet it means you will walk into that room to find that baby setting the house on fire.
And, OK, once when we didn't check on you for a full five minutes, you walked into the living room with a weird look on your face only to discover you had dunked Lambie in the toilet.
But, back to today.
We went to check on you because it was unusually quiet. But instead of finding you with a fistfull of electrical sockets, you were sitting on the floor with Lambie and an empty cup. We walked in to hear you say "agua?" And then give Lambie some make-believe water to drink.
OK. So, do I just think this is amazing because I'm your mom and 8.5 months pregnant and totally emotional?
I mean, since when do you know how to share and imagine and be so caring?
I just really hope these qualities stick around when we bring Ella home.
********************************************************************
On a totally unrelated note, I downloaded the new Radiohead album, "In Rainbows." It is amazing. The band leaked its own album online for a "pay what you want" price, with free being an option.
I paid 5 pounds which came out to be about $11.
I think it will be a bit too complex for you, with its jazzy parts and erratic vocals. But then again, you have been surprising me with your musical taste lately.
Like when I played the first song off the new PJ Harvey record, when it was done you said, "mas? mas?"
Actually, maybe that was just as amazing and emotional for me as this whole glass of water thing.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Feet
A few nights ago, you did not want to sleep.
OK, well, maybe you wanted to sleep but your parents didn't realize that it gets freezing cold at night and put you in pajamas that were not the warmest. This made you wake up like, every two hours. And in the morning we were all exhausted and cranky. Plus your hands and feet were ice cold, which made us feel even worse.
So last night we broke out the new pajamas your Grandma (Gima) bought you. Purple! Fuzzy! Pajamas with feet!
Usually, when you wear anything with long sleeves you get very annoyed and immediately say "no more." But you didn't even notice the long sleeves because . . . WOW . . . your pajamas had weird shoes at the bottom! And this was super cool!
We put you on the floor (the hardwood part so that we could hear the classic foot pajamas sound) but you just stood there looking down. Then you laughed and laughed. And finally, you walked a few steps, but still never looking away from your feet.
And best of all, you didn't wake up at all during the night. Feet pajamas are really the greatest thing.
OK, well, maybe you wanted to sleep but your parents didn't realize that it gets freezing cold at night and put you in pajamas that were not the warmest. This made you wake up like, every two hours. And in the morning we were all exhausted and cranky. Plus your hands and feet were ice cold, which made us feel even worse.
So last night we broke out the new pajamas your Grandma (Gima) bought you. Purple! Fuzzy! Pajamas with feet!
Usually, when you wear anything with long sleeves you get very annoyed and immediately say "no more." But you didn't even notice the long sleeves because . . . WOW . . . your pajamas had weird shoes at the bottom! And this was super cool!
We put you on the floor (the hardwood part so that we could hear the classic foot pajamas sound) but you just stood there looking down. Then you laughed and laughed. And finally, you walked a few steps, but still never looking away from your feet.
And best of all, you didn't wake up at all during the night. Feet pajamas are really the greatest thing.
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