It's Dancy-Dance Time!

I have no idea what happened but Calder freaked the hell out last night. In a good way. Perhaps it was the Freezee Pops he was mainlining or the two giggling teenagers who were his captive audience. Whatever it was Calder was a man who needed to DAAAAAANCE! Actually, first he needed to stomp around and act like a dinosaur and roar and crouch and wriggle his butt like a Velociraptor but I was too busy laughing my ass off to remember to get up and get the camera. After the dinosaur bit he stomped over to the ipod speakers and demanded that Daddy put on some jamz. Naturally, he obliged. The result. Well, the result is why having children is awesome.





Keep in mind, I didn't even get half of Calder's dance party madness on camera. I may dope him up on sugar/attention more often. Like for parties or when there's nothing on tv.

New Niece! New Niece!

Caroline Elaine Rupon borne June 23, 2009 3:48AM today weighing 7 pounds 4 oz.

Happy Father's D- Bleeeerrrrrghhhhh

It's a good thing that I am a totally derelict in my duties with regards to Father's Day. If I had come up with some super fancy brunch plans or trips for today, we would have had to cancel them because Calder is barfing all over the place. To be fair, Calder has been puking since Thursday. Not continuously obvs since I am typing this and not sitting in a hospital watching him an IV. But yeah, since Thursday Calder has spectacularly vomited up his morning milk all over the place and then been ok for the rest of the day. Friday was particularly lovely, he booted in the car on the way to daycare. Oh, it was also the first high 80s day we've had here in a long damn time. Super. We haven't done much except feed him popsicles and bathe him (a lot) since he doesn't have a fever, he isn't particularly cranky or lethargic and he only throws up once a day. We've already got a trip to the doctor scheduled for Wednesday so unless the boy gets significantly worse in the next day, we'll probably just wait until then to ask Dr. Merens about Mr. Puky McVommmypants. Considering I am all "OMG, dehydration!" every time he yaks, it's entirely possible Calder is just doing this for the unfettered access to popsicles. Either that or it's an indictment of my housekeeping skills and Calder is not so subtlety suggesting that I should get off my ass and mop all the goddamn floors around here.

Bye, Bye Baby

Calder is a year and a half old today. It's officially the beginning of the toddlerpocalypse. I don't think I can get away with calling him a baby any more. How's really a little boy now. How sad. Although Calder would probably think it's ok if I kept on with the babying since he calls every kid, from 2 months to 12, "beebee". He also refers to every grown woman as a "Mommee" and every adult male as a "Daddee". It's a little disturbing to hear Calder call Miss Leslie, the daycare teacher. Mommy. The whole class does it though so I am not super concerned that he's stopped loving me or anything. I am more concerned that the other day Calder said Mommee and Daddee while pointing at a picture of Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt*. I nearly just gave up on this whole child rearing endeavor right then and there because clearly I have failed him and was trying to find the number to call the state to take him away when he turned away from the computer and jumped at me screeching "Mommee! My! My! Mommee!". After a few sticky hugs and kisses I decided that maybe I wasn't so terrible a parent that DCFS should get involved so I put the phone down. Calder's turned out to be a super little kid. I think I'll hang on to him for a bit longer.

*If you don't know who this is, don't worry. And don't bother trying to find out, just know that I am jealous of you.

I Must Be Psychic, Yo

So two days after I put up that post about the children's books there was a question about Dominion Day on Jeopardy. I am just getting to that episode today because my time is spent finding random things in the fridge and cleaning the sticky hands that put them there but, dude... creepy.

Seriously, Rich People?

Yes, it's totally what you think it looks like, a "crib" made out of card board. Not only is this thing SIDS waiting to happen (the mattress is a fluffy, tufted thing), it is a major case of baby constipation in the making. Babies, especially teething ones like to chew on shit. Some children, like I dunno, Calder, EAT what they chew on. Calder even had a particular taste for paper products. (It must be hereditary. I apparently got my hands and mouth on some paper before I had even been brought home from the hospital.) So, In a household like mine we would quickly have half a crib and one hell of a stopped up child.

Who are the people that buy this? Design obsessed weirdos who care about the environment (but not too much since this has to be shipped from Europe) and only plan on having one child? That seems like a really, really small niche to be going after. I guess that's why is so expensive? Not for a crib of course. It's expensive for shit made out of cardboard which is a material you can get for free on the loading dock of any large building in any city in America as long as you don't mind the smell too much. I think it's the cardboardness that really chaps my ass. This dingbat crib is touted as environmentally friendly because you can recycle it when you no longer have a child or when the child you do have has eaten through it's structural integrity. Super! I love recycling but do you know what's even MORE environmentally friendly than recycling which uses energy and creates emissions because it's not like Al Gore is sitting in some warehouse just wishing all the garbage into really itchy toilet paper? Reusing, that's what. Reusing doesn't use ANY extra energy. Oh and you know how the recycling bajingers all have a triangle symbol on them? That's because there are three tenets of environmentally friendly consumerism. Reuse and recycle are two but the first, the first on is friggin' reduce. Which will not be happening because any minimalism loving schmo family that decides Sarvis needs a little Ophelia to play with is gonna have to buy ANOTHER one of the crap death boxes because the first one was put out with Mommy's empty wine bottles. This crib is actually an environmental fail on an epic level.

That is my hippie screed for the day. Please see me later on this week for such topics such as Get Off Your Lawn, Those Chemicals Will Kill You and Stop Trying to Sell Me Meat with More Drugs in it Than My 12th Grade English Teacher.

Accomplishment and Awesome Shit That I want

So, uh, I've had these letter thingies to hang up in Calder's room since, well, December? Maybe even November? Well yesterday, in a fit of well meaning, I finally got around to hanging them up. Word to the wise, attempting to hang 6 ill-designed letters in anything resembling a straight line while PMSing is not a good idea. I have officially been reduced to tears by less than a pound of wood and enamel paint... F-U letters and the Company Store what brought you. Seriously, they make is look so easy but the Company Store is so full of LIE. I would boycott you except you keep coming at me with things like this, and this, but especially THIS. And OMFG THISSSSSSSSSSS. If that came in Queen, Bruce would be very shocked to come home one day to find our bedroom redone in the style of 10-year-old boy.

Water Baby

Second swim class! Same amount of screaming! Well, that's just an estimate since instead of doing his hollering in convenient to measure 15 minute blocks, Calder spent this class intermittently enjoying the crap out of himself and thrashing and yelling like Bruce was pinching him under water. I blame Bruce for this. Perhaps I am cranky (YES) but today's whole swim class has been grating on my nerves since last night. First, despite saying all week he'd take this one so I could get some pictures, Mr. Cheese is a vegetable informed me last night he doesn't have a bathing suit that fits. Huge shocker there. After going through every bin and tub in the joint I finally found a pair of running shorts that would be serviceable. Christ on a bike, it was a pain in the ass but that is just how badly I do not want me in a swimsuit on the internet.

Second, during the class Bruce pretty much did his own thing, ignoring the instructors and not really reading Calder all that well. I think if Calder's head hadn't been accidentally dunked so many times he would have enjoyed this class a whole lot more. Looks like I will be doing it again next week*. Hopefully by the last class (video permitted class), Calder will have calmed his shit down about the water and we can bring Friday Film Fest back with some footage of my little guppy splishing n' splashing about. Maybe he'll get really good at it and we'll have another potential college scholarship/mommy's retirement plan to dream about.


















*I firmly believe I do everything better parenting-wise than Bruce. That sounds mean, I know. I don't care. Please someone go get me some beer and an ice cream sundae.

WTF, Children's Books?

So there's this Dominick's I sometimes stop at on my way home from work. It's a typical city grocery store what with being kind of small and being arranged weird and having almost no choice of brands. It's a last ditch kind of store. The only redeeming feature of this place is the totally random folding table full of used books that is given the place of prominence right in front on the check out. This table is awesome. The books are dirt cheap too, $1 or $2. I believe I have mentioned Calder's love of the written word before in this space. Even though he already has more tomes than a small town library, I cannot help myself when ever I am forced to shop at the second worst grocery store on the north side (the Jewel at Lincoln & Foster is #1). On Monday I had to swing by for some last minute dinner additions since, unlike Bruce, I do not consider cheese to be a vegetable. Let me tell you, the book table made this well worth the trip. Along with a bagful of broccoli and a mega pack of wipes I came home with ten new(old) books for Calder. So what if I spent my lunch money for the week. Calder now has ten more books that run the gamut from the wonderful, to the weird, to the just plain creepy.

WONDERFUL

And to Think That I Saw it on Mulberry Street, Dr. Seuss.

This is just a straight up classic. Currently selling for just over $10 on Amazon so a decent score even if you don't consider it to be one of the finest pieces of literature to come out of Western Massachusetts. Which I do. Dr. Seuss was a Masshole, deal with it.

The Sesame Street Library, vols 7-9

These are just plain distilled vintage awesomeness. They have stories, games and activities featuring various letters and numbers just like an episode of the show. The main attraction here is that they seem to predate the furry red scourge of the modern Street. No Elmo, fuck yeah! I bet he isn't in 1-6 and whatever the hell comes after 9. It looks like I maybe have a new eBay hobby.

Charlie Brown's 'Cyclopedia, vol. 12

Oldie but goodie Charlie Brown is all about holidays. Just flipping through it I learned something new. That $2 investment will pay back tenfold someday when I answer a question about Dominion Day correctly on Jeopardy. Perhaps I should add these to the eBay list as well in case that magic phone call from Sony ever comes.

WEIRD

Bernie: The Beagle Who Liked German Cooking, Jean Rossbach & Cathy Bobak

This not not a story about a dog that has a fondness for sausages. The dog likes to cook the sausages. lol wut? This is even a chapter book. THAT MEANS THERE ARE SEVERAL HUNDRED WORDS WRITTEN ABOUT A DOG COOKING. HE RUNS A RESTAURANT, EVEN! How do you even go about pitching this to a publisher? Was everyone in that meeting high? Anyways, it's a book about beagles and German shit so, don't worry Mom, I'm shipping it to you.

CREEPY

Three Little Kittens, My Tiny 3-D Book Series

The poem is standard for sure but the puppet photo illustrations are just cray-cray. For example, that is clearly not a pie. It's a M-Fing cake.


And this is just simply disturbing. Why didn't she just make them take their goddamn mittens off before they ate the not-pie. Maybe you should get the spanking, Mrs. Cat, because you have clearly stolen my grandmother's crochet toilet paper cover bajinger. Now all poor Gramma has is a naked Barbie jammed in a cardboard tube.

WTF, CHILDREN'S BOOK
My First Book of Words, pictures by Tadasu Izawa

On the surface this looks normal enough, sure. Each set of facing pages features an everyday tableaux that any average toddler would recognize. Puppy, chair, milk, cookies, boy...


REE REE REE REE! Green-eyed monster Satan Boy!? Kill it! Kill it! OMFG, Children's book! That is goddamn TERRIFYING.

The Swimming Lesson

Going into yesterday's first Aquababies class I was thinking that it could go one of two ways: it could go really, really well and he'd take to swimming like a fish or it could go really, really poorly and he could take to it like, well, me. I was wrong. There was a third way it could go, both of them. Combined. The first 15 minutes of the class was abject screaming and Calder trying to climb me like a ladder to get the hell out of the pool and the second 15 minutes was happy splashing and chanting, "kee, kee keek!" while we motored around the pool chasing after squeezy toys and bouncy balls. I'm sorry to say that there's no pictures to commemorate this momentous achievement in our lives, our ascension to becoming full on "stroller people". I did bring the camera with us but A. I wasn't sure it'd be kosher to bring a camera into the pool area since other people might be weirded out by that, B. I was doing the co-swimming and that would mean Bruce was taking the pictures and he kind of sucks at it, and C. There is no way on God's green earth or in the Devil's fiery Hell I am publishing pictures of myself in a bathing suit on the internet. You want to see this pale, fleshy expanse for yourself you are just gonna have to come by next Saturday. The good news is that almost every family there was taking pictures so it's cool all around and next week it's Bruce's turn to jump in the pool so I can photograph Calder screaming/splashing to my heart's content. Plus, I have no compunction about pasting Bruce's pasty chunk across these worldwide interwebs.

So, what did we do in this swimming class? Um, well, the first half was, ahhh, not sure really because I had a slippery 30 lb. barnacle latched onto my face. I think we were supposed to be acclimating the kids to the water and getting them comfortable with being partially submerged and floating on their backs and stuff. Calder was not so much acclimated. The bulk of the other kids, babies mostly, just quietly blorped around like the little floor slugs they are while Calder clawed and howled and clung to the side of the pool. So Jelluz. Calder did do better than the only other real toddler there. That kid did not last 5 minutes before he had to get out of the pool and watch the class with his parents. Haha, other parents, my offspring is better than yours. The second half of the class started with tube time. We slipped (or in my case subdued and jammed) the kids into inflatable swimmy tube majiggers and tried to encourage them to start kicking and propelling themselves by using toys as lures. I think the addition of the tube was the turning point for Calder. After a minute or two in the tube, he was happily splashing around and only half determined to pull down my bathing suit top. Apparently Calder doesn't trust his own Mommy not to let go and let him drown but he trusts a $.30 piece of PVC manufactured by commies implicitly. Super. Finally, we all circled up and played some games. First, we all walked in a circle and sang "The Wheels on the Bus" while maneuvering the kids in whichever directions the lyrics indicated. Second, we were instructed to place the children on the pool edge and recite the first two lines of "Humpty Dumpty" while encouraging the kids to jump into the pool towards us. While a little twee and a bit scar-inducing, I would consider the swim class to be a success. Calder eventually had a good time and he got to use he charms on the half dozen or so naked elderly women lounging in the locker room after class.

A Boy of Letters

Calder's vocabulary is through the roof now. He can name various animals, shapes, colors, things and even individual letters. I guess the eleventy billion alphabet books we have are starting to pay off. The letters he knows include F, M, N, and O. Why these particular letters I have no idea. They aren't in his name and they don't spell anything but regardless they are his favorite and he likes to point them out on signs as we drive around.

What I want to know is is this normal developmentally? Like, is my kid wicked smart? Or is he just normal? Or is Calder, in fact, really, really dumb and most kids his age and recite the alphabet forwards and backwards in three languages? I have no basis for comparison here. I, like, know one other family that has a child his age and they live way the hell down in the Southside hinterlands where they use numbers on the streets and are all apparently cops or something. The internet, for once, fails me here because it's either filled with mothers extolling the virtues of dear little Sarvis and the clever bon mots that he is dropping on the nanny or poor little Jimmy Bob who is 22 months old and hasn't made a sound yet. Listen Mrs. Jimmy Bob, if the little snot picker has yet to utter a word at 22 months you should probably talking to his doctor, not the millions of dunderheads that frequent mommy message boards.

Calder's main day care teacher says he's smart which is nice and might count for something except Miss Leslie also told me I look skinny the other day so clearly her judgement is a tad off. Like, 20 lbs off. Plus, they are so wrapped up in the cult of Calder at Swift that I doubt we could ever get an objective assessment of the kid from them. He is like Dear Baby Leader of the People's Democratic Republic of Toddlers. Follow along as Calder sinks 37 hole-in-ones and recites Longfellow from memory in Urdu and lacerates another child's face with a bookshelf and then miraculously heals him shortly thereafter. It's all very frustrating! Can someone just tell me if my child is a moron so I can start pushing the sports a little harder if need be?

Also, swim class start today. Yippee.