Posts from — August 2009

Haha, just kidding!  Apparently!  About the internet-being-out thing! Because here I am! On the internet! Typing with my exclamation heavy fingers!

Obviously I think it is a great thing that our connection to the Whole Wide World was restored, but not just for the usual reasons of web-window shopping or Mad Men watching.  The attitudes around here, they were starting to cultivate an anti-The Man sentiment in all our conversations, including ones to the children.  “It’s true Noah, owls CAN turn their heads all the way around.  It’s totally awesome, and I would show you a video of it on the computer, but AT&T told me I couldn’t do that with you. Sorry.”
“Yes, Daddy did get very wet on his ride home, isn’t that terrible? If only AT&T had let us look up the weather today, Daddy would have stayed dry.”

These conversations really happened.

But things are smooth sailing now, internetically speaking.  This means we can get on to more important subjects, namely the fact that Rosie can now do this:

I’m rad!

I remember this phase distinctly from Noah’s babydom, which is not a hard feat because we took approximately 346 pictures of it.  Noah standing up holding on to my leg. Noah standing up holding on the safety gate. Noah standing up holding on to the TV. Noah standing up holding on to the exact same safety gate again but OMG look how cute he is and he has on a different outfit so it must be recorded, etc.

Teeny tiny Noah and his mad standin’ skillz (and my lack of camera skillz)

I have to say that I am really looking forward to the walking phase to come, both because I think it will mean much more interactive play between Rosie and Noah, but also because maybe then I won’t need to use Lava soap to wash off the floor filth on Rosie’s arms and legs every night.

It’s pretty cool to watch, this your-own-flesh-and-blood-growing-up-before-your-very-eyes stuff.  Thanks for ponying up, AT&T, and letting my flesh and blood continue growing up before other people’s very eyes, too.

(Jerks.)

That faint howling you heard Thursday night was not in fact your neighborhood wolves celebrating fresh kill.  It was me, keening and wailing and gnashing my teeth when the internet crashed at our house, leaving me untethered and crazy.  Also, according to the people at AT&T, even though it was shut off with no notice and was their fault, the soonest we’ll be able to have it restored is SEPTEMBER SEVENTH. In case you don’t have a calendar handy, I’ll go ahead and let you know that that is eight days away.  EIGHT. DAYS.

Until then I will be at coffee shops or hanging out my sister’s bedroom window on the top floor of our house by my toes, laptop pointed to the sky in search of some free stilted, takes-five-minutes-to-load-content wireless action.

This sucks.

Jenga Kingdom

Sometimes Noah builds a block castle so awesome that he BLOWS HIS OWN MIND.

Downward Dog

It used to be that if the room that Rosie was in fell silent, we could be sure that it was because she was gumming a finishing nail or possibly a live insect. Now half the time we rush in to investigate the quiet and are greeted with a raised tush and upside down eyes and an expression that is clearly saying NAMASTE, Y’ALL.

Actual Dog

My friend Allen has a dog named Wendy. When Allen pets Wendy in the right spot, she looks like she’s grinning from ear to ear. Rosie tried repeatedly to make out with her on Saturday, but Wendy was very tolerant and gentle, more interested in Noah’s caramel cake than Rosie’s advances. That’s right Wendy, you wait for that girl to buy you some dinner.

Nine Months from racher on Vimeo.

We’ve reached that dreaded point in settling in to a new house called Functioning Pretty Well But Still A Godawful Mess.  Meaning the kitchen is up and running without a hitch, but I still have to step over four boxes to get into my bedroom closet and have done so for many days on end.  I always have a fear at this point in moving that things will just stay this way forever – coasters will go on top of cardboard and we’ll start referring to it as “the side table” or we’ll just go on using that extra large box as a baby gate because, hey – we don’t need those winter coats just yet!

The person that this system actually kind of works for is Noah, who gets to experience a mini-Christmas every time we shove some pile over to get to something important and unearth another (OMG ANOTHER) box of toys.  “MY JET!” he screams. “MY SMALL GREEN DINOSAUR WHOSE NAME I CAN’T REMEMBER!”  He’s reunited, and clearly it feels so good.

I, however, feel as though I need a Organization Intervention.  Like one of those people who can come into your house and take all your crap and rearrange it and somehow make it look like page 21 of the Pottery Barn catalog.  I dream of some perfectly coiffed, perfumed woman breezing in and with a wave of her hand saying, “But Darling! Just put this warped particle board shelf here and put this plant on there and VOILA: you are feng shuied!”  And then we’d go have cappuccinos and lady fingers in the (also feng shuied, duh) kitchen.

One problem is that I keep thinking that we’ll finish unpacking a room “after X.” X being….we die? I’m not sure what I’m waiting for, because it is becoming obvious to me that “free time” is pretty much a bygone these days, along with “sleep” and “cognizance.”

Maybe the solution is just to throw open all the last leftover boxes and just put everything in them on the nearest surface and then have a few friends over and then deadbolt the doors behind them and say NO ONE LEAVES UNTIL THIS LIVING ROOM IS OOZING WITH POSITIVE CHI.

I think it would work.