He sees you when you're sleeping...

So I thought of another reason not to do Santa.

We tell kids that Santa's watching them and that they'd better be good or they'll get a lump of coal in their stockings. Okay, well, I don't tell my kids this. I just sneer and shrug my shoulders when they ask me about Santa. But that's the idea, right, that Santa's watching and keeps tabs on who's naughty and nice.

But how often do you suppose parents actually withhold the Santa present from their kids, no matter the behavior? I can tell you I'd have a hard time doing it. The whole reason I started thinking about this is that Olivier has been full of attitude and grumpiness lately, and I thought he probably deserves a lump of coal, but there's already a big fat present hiding in the basement for him to share with his baby brother, and he's getting it, crappy attitude or not.

What does this teach kids? We tell them there will be consequences if they're not good, and then those consequences never come. They act like little punks and still wake up on Christmas morning to gifts under the tree and overflowing stockings, which really just tells them that no one really cares about their behavior and that they can do what they want and still get what they want.

If you don't have kids, it's easy to say, "No, my kids won't get presents from Santa if they're bad." You can do the whole elf on the shelf thing and threaten threaten threaten. But following through is another matter. It is not easy at all. Little kids have a hard time understanding consequences like that, the kind that aren't immediate. So it's really hard to reinforce the things we try to teach them. But telling them to be good or else without following through seems to me like it might do more harm than anything.

Yet another reason this whole Santa thing is a bad idea.

The Perks of Being Pregnant

It's been three months since my last blog post. What have I been doing? Getting fat, that's what. Big and fat. My fourth baby will be arriving next month, because I didn't have enough kids already.

This will be our fourth child, but it's my five hundred thousandth pregnancy. Yes, five hundred thousand. I must really like to be pregnant. I've been knocked up for much of the last eight years. Today, while examining my expanding abdomen, I began thinking about the pros of being knocked up. There are many that are not as obvious as one might think.

So here you have it. The Pensive Monkey's Perks of Being Pregnant:

1.) First of all, when you get fat enough, your belly button begins to pop out. Now, this might be gross, but at the same time, it's really quite convenient. My belly button is now 100% lint free. It's impeccably clean at all times.

My navel's cleaner than yours.

2.) You can use your huge belly as a shelf for snacks and drinks. Saves a ton of money on side tables.

3.) But don't stop there. You also have a built in shelf for all sorts of necessary items:

Books.

Staplers.

Stuffed monkeys.

Potted plants.

4.) Most hospitals give their patients these awesome water jugs. They're big, they're insulated, and they come with straws! Totally worth the pains of labor:

5.) Speaking of the hospital, if you want to avoid an epidural, one option is to receive an intravenous narcotic. I did this with my first. I was high as a kite, and it was totally legal. (I've since opted for the epidural, and it's really the way to go. But if you like to feel doped up, the option is there.)

6.) When strangers ask you when you're due, no one says you have to tell the truth. You can say, "I was due four days ago!" and they'll be none the wiser, but they'll be more likely to say, "Oh, you look so good!" If you tell them the truth, they'll probably say something that makes you feel fat. Which you are, but you don't need to be reminded day in and day out. So just lie, and you'll likely get a compliment!

7.) You're more likely to be the recipient of random acts of kindness when out in public. People might move to give you a seat on the bus or let you go ahead of them in line. I've been ushered to the front of the line at airports while hugely pregnant. Then again, you should never, ever expect this. Because really, most people are jerks. So. Forget number seven.

8.) That's all I got. Screw this. I'm not having any more babies. How many big hospital mugs does a person need anyway?

To Fall

Ah, fall. You snuck in and then blew your cool breath to extinguish the flames of summer. And I thank you.

This is my ode to Autumn, who I do so love. Summer is still here...but it's hanging by a thin thread. Fall will win. Summer will fall. The trees will soon begin to glow, and then golden leaves will rain upon the street. I've already dug out the sweaters and bought a snappy red trench coat. We're tossing around the idea of a fire pit. I'm mum shopping tomorrow. My apple cinnamon candles make me weak in the knees. Ah, fall.

Things are going well for me. This is my final semester as an undergraduate, and while I initially thought it would be a bit nightmarish, it actually seems quite manageable. I am in two fiction courses, which will leave me with three (hopefully decent) short stories at the end of the semester. I'm also acting as editorial assistant on a poetry anthology (exciting), and my senior seminar involves reading a stack of books that were on my to-read list. Nice.

Speaking of reading lists, if you enjoy reading and haven't already heard of http://www.goodreads.com/, you should check it out. You can rate what you have read and make a list of what you still need to read, which is pretty awesome, especially if you're like me and tend to wander into libraries and draw a blank. (I used to do the same with music stores, but now I just buy mp3s. But we've already discussed my feelings on digital books. Not happening.) You can add friends, straight from facebook, if that's how you roll, and see what they're reading, liking, disliking, etc. It's pretty sweet.

Standardized Tests...

...blow. I hate them. Loathe them. Bomb them.

I registered for the GRE last month, which was $160. I bought two practice books (one math, one verbal), and devoted some time to studying, although I'll admit that I lost steam rather quickly and decided not to try anymore. Oops. People said, "It's not that bad!"

It was that bad. I guessed on so. Many. Questions. Both in the math and verbal sections. Which is pathetic. I'm supposed to be smart. All these people think I'm smart. And I blew it.

I'm not going to post my scores here. I'm not particularly happy with them. Suffice to say, I scored well below average on the quantitative section, and above average, but not as high as I would have liked, on the verbal. I cried afterward. Yes. I felt that defeated.

Not only did the test itself suck, but I spent all that time and money on it, and I really just don't feel like a standardized test is a good measure of everyone's intelligence. I don't do well on objective tests like that, where there's one correct answer. I like a good essay question, where I can explain my logic.

Plus, I felt like I was applying to be a spy or something. They actually used metal detectors (ha, freudian slip...I just typed mental detectors -- no brains allowed!). I had to turn my pockets inside out. Etc. Overkill, maybe? No?

I'm applying to MFA programs. From what I've read, they don't care much about the GRE scores. Let's hope that's true.

Another technology tirade.

I'm having a crappy day. It's been almost a month since my last post, and apparently my only inspiration these days comes from stupid technology.

This is just my public service announcement telling you that HP sucks, and you should not give them your business. I won't anymore.

In early 2007, I spent quite a bit on an HP Pavilion. I chose what I did because it had a built-in webcam, a feature that my family would use a lot, and at the time, it was the cheapest laptop I could find with that feature. I so regret my decision. The laptop is literally falling apart -- we've lost a key for no known reason. But worse than that, it won't boot up anymore. It started having problems a long time ago. It would only boot up sometimes. It would crash a lot. Et cetera. We figured we had a virus or something. My tech-savvy brother-in-law tried to fix it for us, to no avail. We gave up on it.

This January, we bought a Macbook. We like it a lot so far. We had completely retired the HP. Then today I discovered that my department at school has changed its graduation requirements, and I'm now supposed to present a portfolio of work from three classes, two of which I took back when we had this laptop, meaning all of my essays are saved there. I never thought I'd need them, so I didn't back them up. Now I can't access them. I googled it just to see if there was some way to get them, and in that process, I found that HP had recalled this series of computers (tons of people had the exact same problem we were having) and was repairing them for free. Awesome, I thought. I called to get in on the action. I talked to a TOTAL DOUCHEBAG, who spoke to me as if I were a complete moron, and said that yes, these computers had this problem, and yes, they were fixing them for free, but if the problem happened after the warranty had expired, then it was the computer owner's fault. HA.

I wasn't exactly surprised to get that answer. I was really, really irritated with his condescending attitude. I have ZERO tolerance for condescension. Zero. Am I wrong to think that they should fix the problem if they have acknowledged that it is THEIR DEFECTIVE PRODUCT, not some user error, no matter when the warranty expired??? It's not like this laptop is fifteen years old. It's three years old, and we started having problems over a year ago, probably a year and a half or more.

There. Vent over. Don't buy HP.

Hackers and other Modern Day Joys

I have four email addresses (my first one -- hotmail -- which I just haven't deleted because some people still send me emails there, a yahoo address that I mainly use for bill pay but occasionally use for personal emails, my gmail account, which is the one I use the most to send personal emails, and my school address). In the past year and a half, three out of four of these accounts have been hacked, and all of the people in my address book have received junk messages from me, presumably with viruses attached. The most recent incident was yesterday.

Sometimes I dream of abandoning the "perks" of the modern world, which often become annoyances. I regret signing a two-year contract on my satellite TV because the TV is on far too much. I wish I could cancel it and use the TV only to watch movies that we rent. I mean, I could, but I'd have to pay a fee. I wish I didn't need internet, but I do. I have to have it for school. I pay tons of my bills that way. We keep in touch with far away family that way. And I really just can't imagine not having it. Not having google at my disposal to find the answer to virtually any question? Inconceivable.

But in my head, it's lovely to imagine abandoning it all and living in some quiet country house with a beautiful garden, and writing, and watching my kids play outside all day without worrying about them being hit by a car or kidnapped, and reading, and painting, and gardening, and actually doing productive things. Who's going to hack my garden? My books? My typewriter?

Someone. Someone would find a way, because people are evil. My kids sometimes obsess over "bad guys," and they ask if there are bad people here, where we live...and that terrible part of me that just can't sugar coat things for my kids has to sigh and say, "Yes. Bad people are everywhere." Sad, but true.

Puppy Goes to the Gallows

I found this in the kitchen. How concerned should I be for the safety of my dog...and the rest of the family, for that matter?

Fun with Frogs

My sister and I took our kids to my parents' house a few days ago to swim in their pool. Thalia proceeded to rescue a tiny, tiny frog (toad?) from the pool.

I held him for a bit and the kids poked at him. They soon lost interest and jumped back in the water. Kristin and I, however, did what any mature woman would do...

We put the frog on a horse. Yes, that's a tiny, tiny horse. It was just Frog's size. How could we not take him for a ride? He enjoyed it quite a lot.

After a little gallop around the yard, he decided it was time to dismount...

...and find a more modern ride:

Yes, Froggy was big pimpin'. You can tell by the expression on his face that he was pretty full of himself in that car. Frog went a-courtin', and he did ride...he cruised around for awhile looking for a lady. Seems all the girl frogs had washed up dead in the pool's skimmer, however.

Frog's now on the lam, accused of murder. Good luck, Froggy. Godspeed.

Advice for Future Puppy Owners

This obviously applies to a small audience, but I'm sharing nonetheless.

I really adore my new puppy. Granted, he's kind of a pain in the butt sometimes, and it's been work dealing with his puppiness, but all in all he's a good guy. Very good natured, eager to please, playful with the kids, and darn cute. So far we've taught him to sit, lay down, pee on command, get off the couch when asked, drop whatever's in his mouth, and to not jump up on people. He no longer tries to bite everyone or jump on everyone, which is great. Olivier antagonizes him, so he does still nip and jump with him, but we're working on that. And Liv deserves it. I have a book of tricks that I'll soon start working on with him.

By far the biggest hurdle has been house training, and even though this advice is readily available via google, I thought I'd share what I've learned, and how we handled it, and what worked.

1. Get a crate. We initially tried to gate him in our laundry room, which is very small, but he found places to pee and poop. It wasn't small enough, and he could jump the gate. We hadn't wanted to spend the money on a crate, knowing he'd outgrow it, but we did a couple of days after we got him, and it was SO WORTH IT! You have to get one that's only big enough for the puppy to stand up and turn around in. Anything bigger and he'll find a corner to pee and poop in. The idea is that he instinctively doesn't want to make a mess where he's going to sleep. It really works. He had a couple of accidents in the crate, but very few. He actually still fits in it and we do use it if he's going to be alone for long.

2. Make up a chart to track his habits. Have a column for what time he eats, poops, and pees. You will soon see that he does have a schedule, and this will really help you to be prepared when he needs to go. We used a highlighter to mark each time he had an accident in the house, and we were quickly able to see the number of those incidents decrease, which was gratifying. We charted for about 6 weeks before we felt like we really knew what to expect. He was doing great by the time we stopped.

3. Always take him out before and after you feed him, even if you think you don't need to. We're growing out of this need now because he's learned to tell us when he needs to go, but this was the source of many an accident.

4. When you take him out to pee, use a word (we say "potty") when he goes, and praise him lavishly when he does it outside. Contrary to some advice that I found online, I'd say DON'T stay out there endlessly with him until he goes for the first time. Take him out, say potty, and if he goes, praise him and let him have a little free time inside, supervised. If he doesn't go, crate him and take him out an hour later (or sooner if you think he really needs to go). Keep this up until he goes. He'll quickly learn your command and know what you expect when you take him out, and the time he needs to spend in his crate will decrease.

5. Take away his water bowl a couple of hours before you go to bed. We made the mistake of trusting him one night, and sure enough, he got up and peed in the night. I think by now we could probably trust him, but I still take it away by 9 p.m.

I might think of other tips to add, and feel free to comment with questions. I'm no expert...this is the first time I've ever house trained a puppy. But it feels so good to finally be there. I shouldn't even say this because I'm afraid I'll jinx it, but I think he's pretty much got it. It's been awhile since his last accident. I still watch him carefully and don't trust him too much, but he's been able to go longer and longer at home without us and without being in his crate, which is awesome.

If only I knew now what I knew then...

I swear that I was wiser as a young child than I have been as an adult. When I was a kid, I refused to mark off days on the calendar in anticipation of some big upcoming date. Each day mattered, I thought, and I wasn't going to just cross them out as if they were only marking time.

But today, of course, it's all about tomorrow. When does my vacation start? When will I get back home again? When will school start again? When will I graduate? When will I have a baby? When will my baby start school? When will I make more money than I make now? When will I feel accomplished? When when when?

And if that's my attitude, the only question that really matters is when will I die? Because really...if I'm constantly looking toward the next milestone, then I'm never leaving this state of transition, and that's no way to live. No wonder I don't enjoy life. No wonder I lie around moping all day. No wonder I don't feel productive. Productiveness is for the future. Today, I wait.

It's 1 a.m. and I feel, of course, that tomorrow I will wake up and enjoy tomorrow and do all that I can to make tomorrow a worthwhile day to be alive. But I tend to fall short of my goals, so I will probably just sit around on my bum all day, waiting for the house to clean itself, waiting for the kids to stop nagging, waiting for my stories to write themselves...you get the picture.

Are you noticing a theme with my posts? I am, and it's that I suck!

San Francisco

It's been awhile since I've checked in. The past couple of weeks have been somewhat chaotic, between house guests and a trip across the country. I just returned yesterday from five days in San Francisco, where I met up with my friend Lindsay. Her wonderful friend Cristina was kind enough to put us up and show us around while we were there. I thought I'd share pictures and stories here, and I hope to resume more regular blogging now that the craziest part of my summer has passed (and it's not even summer!).

I flew out last Thursday and met Lindsay at the SF airport, where she'd just flown in from New York. We trained it to Cristina's apartment, dropped off our bags, and set out to explore and find a place to eat. Cristina lives in the Mission, which is a cool neighborhood, and the Castro is adjacent -- that was our first destination. The Castro is always the center of San Francisco's gay community, but I'm sure it helped that June is Gay Pride Month. As two straight women, we were definitely in the minority as we walked down the street.

We lunched in the Castro, then made our way to the Haight, where we saw the Grateful Dead house:

We walked around that neighborhood for a bit, popping into a souvenir shop and nosing around Amoeba Music before heading homeward.

That evening we had Mexican in the Mission. Lindsay enjoyed a gargantuan burrito, and I went the boring route with a (very spicy) taco and a scrumptious quesadilla.

On Friday, we took the train to the Ferry Building, which houses an indoor market and several restaurants. We ate lunch at the Market Bar, which was quite tasty, and sat outside to enjoy the beautiful day.

We walked up the Embarcadero and saw an assload of wild sea lions sunning on the docks:

We went to the Aquarium of the Bay, which is small but pretty cool. The sea creatures that swim above the glass tunnels that you walk through come in and out freely from the Bay -- they're not captive. We saw jellyfish...

...anchovies...

...oddly contorted starfish...

...and sharks, among other beautiful creatures:

That evening we returned to the Embarcadero and boarded a ferry for Alcatraz.

We took an audio tour of Alcatraz, which I must say was pretty interesting. It's an eerie place, and the tour is well done. Worth doing.

The cellhouse was cold and frightening, as would be expected, but there were surprisingly beautiful parts of the island, like this view walking down to the dock from the cellhouse. Wildflowers still abound on the island. They were planted by prisoners and the families of the guards, who lived on the island. Imagine being a little child and living on Alcatraz in the shadows of the prison. Chilling!




After Alcatraz, we had dinner at the Stinking Rose in North Beach, a restaurant that's obsessed with garlic.

Then we hit up City Lights, bookstore of the beat movement and the home of Ginsberg's "Howl":

The following day, we set out for Napa Valley. The weather was glorious and the drive was breathtaking. We crossed the Golden Gate, though it was cloaked in fog until we came out the other side:

We stopped at In'N'Out Burger, where I witnessed probably the most chaotic fast food restaurant I've ever seen. The burgers were quite delicious, though.

We visited various wineries and indulged in the fruits of their labor:

Then we headed back to San Francisco, where we had some delicious Japanese food.

On Sunday, we picnicked in Nob Hill with a friend of Lindsay's and her darling baby. We drove to the beach, which was rather frigid, not surprisingly, but nice just the same:

Lindsay braved the chilly waters, but I preferred to remain on dry sand:

And that's the end of my photos. We went to a contemporary dance show that evening, which was entertaining, and Monday was spent in airports and planes, biting nails over delays and driven nearly to insanity by boredom. If only I had taken my laptop with me, I could have spent the day writing this blog.

Food!

When I run out of ideas for dinner, things get ugly. I get grumpy and just want to eat take-out all the time, and let's face it, my family just can't afford to eat take-out all the time. Nor should we. But coming up with lunches and dinners every damn day just gets so old. I don't love cooking, but I don't hate it . . . I just have to try new things to mix it up a little. Last week I was nosing around on some online recipe sites, and I tried a Philippino chicken dish called chicken adobo. DIVINE! So I thought I'd share the recipe here:

Ingredients

For the Chicken Adobo:

6 chicken thighs, bone in, skin on
1/2 c. low sodium soy sauce
1/4 c. white vinegar
1-2 T. water
1/2 tsp. cracked black pepper
1/2 bulb garlic, very roughly chopped

For the Garlic Fried Rice:
 
2 T. oil
3 cups cooked rice (leftover rice works GREAT)
1/2 bulb garlic, sliced
1/2 tsp. salt (more or less to taste)

Rinse chicken thoroughly and pat dry. Place in large saucepan with a lid. Pour soy sauce and vinegar over chicken, add garlic and pepper, and stir to mix well and coat chicken with sauce. If there is not enough liquid, add water.

Place chicken over medium flame and cover. Cook for 30 minutes or so, mostly undisturbed, till chicken is cooked through and tender. Check a couple times toward the end of cooking time...the sauce will reduce drastically, which is normal, but if it gets too dry, add a little water as needed.

While the chicken cooks, heat oil in a large frying pan over medium high heat. When oil begins to smoke, add garlic slices and stir fry till light golden. Add rice and continue stir frying till garlic darkens and rice is warmed through. Cover and set aside.

When chicken finishes cooking, serve with rice. A squeeze of kalamansi juice (or lime juice) goes nicely with the chicken.

Number of Servings: 6

I found this recipe on a site called sparkrecipes.com, which is partnered with sparkpeople.com. Imagine a free version of Weight Watchers -- that's Sparkpeople. You can track what you eat, and many foods are available in their database, which means you don't even have to enter the nutritional info. You can track exercises, weight loss or gain, and specific nutritional goals that you might have. You can find recipes and articles, and you can also join groups and create a profile page along the lines of Myspace. You can then add friends to your page and check out what they've been eating so that you can hold one another accountable. I'm on there, and it's pretty crazy to see how much junk I eat sometimes!

I knew it wouldn't last...

Last month was warm and sunny -- unseasonably so. There was so little rain that I wondered how the May flowers would ever come. Well...the rain came in May. I knew it would. I knew one nice month was as much as we could possibly expect. Now it's chilly and rainy and not May-like at all. I'm not moving to Oregon. It would be like this all the time, and I would possibly jump off a bridge. Vitor wants to move to Quebec . . . ha! There's no way. I wish, but man, the winters last most of the year! I couldn't bear it.

I did plant some bushes in my front yard last week, but I've been hiding inside since then. I have flowers waiting to be potted, but I don't feel like digging in the dirt. I'm lazy and drowsy. I need sunshine.

Saturday was my birthday. According to my friend Lindsay, Saturn is now beginning its return to the degree it was at when I was born, so I'm officially entering adulthood. I'd never heard of the Saturn Return until she told me about it, but I guess I like the idea that the stars are aligning to help push me into a new phase in my life. At first I thought that if I'm just now becoming an adult, then what the hell have I been doing for the past nine years? I became an expat just after graduating high school, got married at 18, had babies at 20, 22, and 25, suffered the loss of a child, moved across the country, and tackled college with three kids . . . am I not an adult???

There is, however, a great deal of difference between doing grown-up things and being a grown-up. And I have changed, no doubt. I have even noticed myself maturing within the past year or so. I'm more concerned with stability, tidiness, health, etc, than I used to be. I used to be very go with the flow, and too relaxed about most things. I'm still like that in a lot of ways . . . but it's true, I do think I'm really becoming an adult.

I will not recommend that my children get married at 18 and have babies before they can even drink legally. I feel that I skipped over an important part of my life by rushing things like I did -- that period of transition between adolescence and real adulthood. I didn't have it. It's no one's fault but my own, but I wouldn't recommend it. Of course I have to be happy about the way things turned out, because I would never trade my children for the freedom to drink copious amounts of alcohol every weekend or to backpack across the world unhindered by my tiny companions. My life didn't end because of my children. But it did get harder, and I think that I probably didn't give them all that I could have if I had been more mature at the start.

Sorry, kids.

School's out for the summer.

Man alive am I tired!! For several days I was going to bed before midnight (which is pretty early for me) and feeling good, and then I started staying up later (until between 1 and 2, generally) and wasn't feeling so good. Last night I had to let my moisturizer/self-tanner soak in before settling in to bed, so I turned on the TV with the intention of watching just for those two minutes, but it was a show about the man whose arms exploded, and I needed to see that, so I stayed up, only to learn that his arms didn't explode at all. Hogwash. The moisturizer, however, is working, and as keen as I'm not on fake tans and the like, my legs always stay deathly pale all summer and I look very strange when my arms and the rest of my upper body is several shades darker than my legs. (Saying several shades darker, by the way, does not imply that I get tan. I just get a little less ghostly.)

But today was my final final, so I am DONE with school until August! Whoopee!! Now. You know what that means. I said that when the semester was finished, I was going to ch-ch-ch-ch-change my life. So, tomorrow. Tomorrow I eat well and read and write and mother attentively and be overall productive.

I've actually been more productive than normal lately (aside from today and yesterday, when my mind was overrun with facts about Quebec. Quebec is a very interesting place, by the way. Did you know that a referendum was held in 1995 for Quebec to become a sovereign nation, and 49.2% of Quebecers voted oui? C'est vrai. Quebec almost became its own country!!) I've been doing a pretty damn good job keeping up with laundry, dishes, and general tidiness. And it feels good. Now that "summer" is here, I'm ready to tackle some bigger projects that have long been on the back burner.

So tonight I will go to bed right after Real Housewives of NYC...and LA Ink...I don't watch those shows, naturally, but, um, I have to stay up until they're over? Er...

Oh yeah, and I'm thinking about moving to Oregon.

I'm changing my name to George.

Not really. But if I didn't already know that being a woman writer was an uphill battle, this fact was reinforced today when I overheard a guy at Starbucks laugh as he said to his friend, "I don't read women authors." Yeah. I mean, that just sucks. And unfortunately, he's one of many. I always like to pretend I'm not a feminist, but how can I help but be when that kind of sentiment is shared by many and is even considered comical? Women can't write? Or what they write isn't worth reading? Do I really have to go by A.M. instead of Abby to get respect? Or George, like George Eliot, whose real name was Mary Ann? I don't really feel like a George. I should at least pick a name out of left field, like Hans or Francesco or something.

I've thought of using a pen name, but I don't see myself as anything but Abby, so my first name will be staying the same. If people want to be jerks and not read me because I'm a woman, so be it. People suck.

Well, just one "i"...

I'm an idiot. I had to acknowledge that yes, there is an "i" in Oliver. Just not the "i" that I was thinking about.

There's no "I" in Oliver.

Maybe I should have named him Oliver, then, instead of Olivier. Maybe that extra "i" really screwed him up. My kid has issues!!

Being half-Brazilian, my children have soccer in their blood. Olivier has been wanting to play for a long time now, and we finally got him into a rookie league this spring. But he expects the whole world to revolve around him. He's all smiles and rainbows when the kids are practicing, each with his own ball, but then when the game starts and a bunch of kids are fighting over the same ball, he freezes up and stands there sulking in the middle of the field. He says, "They won't let me score a goal!" No shit, Sherlock. (No, I do not say that to him. At least not to his face.)

He's a special little person, to put it nicely. He's a character, but his big emotions can cause problems. Terrible twos? Pshaw! Three was baaaaaaaaaad, and four's not much better.

At least he's cute.

I have to admit that he comes by it honestly. I had a reputation as a little kid as being rather difficult, I guess. They called me the Tyrant. I sometimes overreact...sometimes...

This is me in Paris, pouting because my camera wasn't working. Except it obviously was working, because this picture was taken with my camera.

This is me in Paris, pouting because...well, you've heard that story already. Yup. Same exact situation.

And just for fun, two of the best Paris pictures ever taken:

We went up in the Eiffel Tower, and just as we got to the front of the line to buy our tickets, they closed the uppermost level. Bastards!! This is how I felt. And then...

We bought metro passes, which was marvelous. The Paris Metro is a dream. But it hated me, for some reason. It would never let me through. Only me. Everyone else would breeze through, and I'd get the wind knocked out of me when it wouldn't open for me. I started jumping turnstiles. I hold a grudge.

My son might get his attitude from me.

Straight, not Narrow

I'm coming out.

As a gay rights supporter, that is. Most of the people with whom I associate share my views, I know, but there are those who don't, and I must shamefully admit that I do not speak up sometimes when I should.

Truth be told, I'm extremely gay friendly. I'm not indifferent about this topic in the slightest. So I really should speak my mind. I would love to somehow be involved in activism, but I'm not sure quite where to start.

One evening, a professor of mine started a class discussion by writing a saying he'd seen on a bumper sticker on the board: "I'm straight, but not narrow." He then asked what we thought of it. Some of my classmates didn't care for it, saying that it seemed to be a straight person who supports gay rights but who feels the need to assure everyone that s/he is straight. That makes sense, but I disagreed. I like the saying. I think that if I support a cause from which I have nothing to gain, my support is all the more credible. I feel the same about marijuana legalization. I'm not going to say I've never done it, but I'm not a pothead by any means, and I really don't care if I ever smoke again in my life. But I'm a staunch supporter of legalization. Changing the laws wouldn't benefit me in any way, but I still want them changed -- doesn't that lend me some credibility?

Unfortunately, I don't think that those close to me who don't know my views on this subject will ever read this. But that's all right. I'm still putting it out there. If anyone has suggestions for ways to get involved, please let me know.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes, take II.

So in my usual fashion, I said I needed to change my life and then didn't even attempt to follow through. That's how I roll. I'm still watching reality TV (although I will say that I haven't started any new seasons...I'm just finishing out the ones I was already watching before originally saying that I needed to stop), I'm still eating terribly, and I'm still...uh, well, whatever else it was I said I needed to do, I'm sure I'm not doing it.

But I'm going to throw out an excuse...it's the end of the semester and I'm busy laying around and thinking about how much I don't want to do things. That takes a lot of energy. So give me a few weeks and we'll try again.

Oh, and we got a puppy, too, so yeah, that's my other excuse. He's a cool little dog and I'm really happy to have him. He plays with the kids, which our other dog, Beatrice, does not. And he and Beatrice have a lot of fun together, which makes me happy for her, since she doesn't want to play with the kids. His name is Ezra de la Pound. He's super fluffy and cute.

Ezra de la Pound

Cute as he is, he is, of course, work. We got Beatrice in January and she was 4 years old, housebroken, etc. She's a totally chill dog. She's awesome. We adore her. She was so easy to bring into our lives. Ezra keeps us on our toes. We're trying to housebreak him now. He's pretty much crate trained, which luckily didn't take long, and he's doing really well in the house, but we still have to watch him carefully. And he's very energetic, of course, and bites, and steals the kids' toys, and all that other puppy stuff. Soon we'll have a fence, though, and life should be a little easier.

This summer I want to do some work on my house, especially the outside. I want to get a lot of writing done, largely in preparation for my fiction classes that are coming this fall, and also to prepare my grad school portfolio. I want to prepare for and ace the GRE, which I'm really dreading ever since I took a math boot camp last Saturday and was reminded that I'm terrible at math. I want to read a lot (for entertainment purposes, and to read some stuff that I feel ashamed not to have read). I want to start cooking real meals again and trying to get healthy. I did well last summer, but then when school started, it was just too easy to slip back into my old habits. And I want to not just sit on my butt moping around like I so often do.

Here's hoping.

GoodGuide

I was listening to NPR the other night and heard a discussion about the social and environmental costs of making e-readers (Kindle, iPad, etc) versus printing books. I'm totally paraphrasing, but I was delighted to hear that books win over e-readers both socially and environmentally. Because of the costs of producing e-readers, you'd have to purchase 100 books on one to offset that production.

I can see the positive aspects of e-readers for some occasions...but personally, I would never choose to read a novel on an e-reader. Never ever ever. I loooove books. Paperback, specifically. Dog-eared and well-loved -- no problem! They smell delicious. I love folding back the covers and curling up in bed with a good read.

Cozy

There's nothing warm and cozy about an electronic tablet, in my humble opinion. Plus, you can buy an e-book, only to have Amazon suddenly snatch it away from you! Not happening with a real book (barring any Fahrenheit 451-esque occurrences).

Not Cozy

Later in the same NPR broadcast, I heard discussion about an iPad application that allows you to scan the barcode of any item and find out how taxing it is on both the environment and humanity. Now, it's getting easier and easier to find info about green this and green that (to the point of annoyance, if you ask me...it seems so trendy and I'm not sure why people are only now caring about the earth)...but you have to dig a little deeper to find out how the people who make your products are being treated. And that interests me more...but I'll admit, I'm a lazy, ignorant consumer. It's so easy to be.

Well, I don't have an iPhone, but I do have an iTouch, and I just downloaded GoodGuide, the aforementioned app, for free. I think it has its limits...you can't find every product in the world. But there are about 50,000 in its database at this time, so that's something. And it's free, so who's complaining?




And just to try it out, I searched for the Herbal Essences shampoo that I use, which I had a sneaking suspicion was not the most conscious product. It ranked 6.6 overall: 8.0 in health, 5.6 environmental, and 6.3 social. Oops. I can search the general "shampoo" section, though, and find out which rate the highest: Dr. Hauschka's Shampoo with Nasturtium and Lemon, Burt's Bees Rosemary Mint Shampoo Bar (sounds yummy!!), and Miessence Organic Lemon Myrtle Shampoo. The app then breaks down the ratings. For the Burt's Bees product, for example, it says that the company scores well on reducing water use, energy management, and donations to charities.

I have yet to find any products in any category rated at or above 9.0, but I haven't looked much, and nobody's perfect.

You can download the app here.

Baby Legs!

We had to take Julian in for shots today, and it was a bit nippy. He got some knockoff baby legs from his dear aunt for his birthday, and they're perfect for immunization day! We didn't have to take his pants off and were able to keep him warm without irritating his sore little thighs. Parents of babies, buy some!



Here's a close-up of the freshly poked legs:



We also had him in a summery outfit for Easter, but when it cooled off at night, I was really glad to have a pair of these in the diaper bag to throw on him. I recommend them!

Thalia's Thalias

When we were shopping for bulbs last fall, we came across a type of daffodil called thalia. How could I not buy those? So here they are, finally blooming! I had to photograph them from a strange angle, so the pictures aren't anything special, but how cool that my daughter planted flowers that share her name. A name that people thought I made up.

Once, when she was a tiny, tiny newborn, I was at the store with her and a woman came up and was adoring my precious little babe. She asked me her name, and when I told her, she said, "What? How do you spell it?" I spelled it for her, and her reply? "Poor little baby with a name like that!"

Clearly this woman had a super awesome name that made her such a super awesome person, with such splendid manners.



Well, news flash, it's a real name, with a cool origin, to boot. Thalia was a figure in Greek mythology. The muse of comedy, or one of the three Graces.

Notice the flowers in her hair?

Here's my Thalia:



We also got some more tulips...

Okay, I know that my gardening and photographic skills are nothing to brag about, but I've never planted anything that actually grew before! Did some seeds once...did not go well.