Sunday, February 27, 2011

How to be a Hippie

OK people. I'll be honest. I'm suffering tonight because the Oscars are on and I can't watch them. Why not, you say? Well folks, it's because I went and cancelled the goddamn cable.
And why would I do something so incredibly anti-American? Well, because I had a real problem with the TV. Especially reality TV. If you put Bret Michaels, a posse of strippers, Dr. Drew, and Tyra in a blender and hit "puree" there you would have my fantasy show.
Before I had Ceci I watched an embarrassing amount of TV. Matthew and I went through a phase where we were parked next to one another on the couch, surfing channels and the Internet all night long.
I grew up watching TV. My parents both worked full time when I was a kid. Laverne and Shirley were my babysitters. And guess what? I turned out fine. I can read. I play nicely with others. I share. I make it through the day without behavior modifying medications ( I'm secretly very proud of this).
I cancelled cable because I like it too much. I can easily fall into a trance watching the tube and lose four or five hours at a time.
I started to worry, before Ceci came, that I was leading a digital life. I blogged. I facebooked. I watched TV. I spent a lot of time looking at screens, thinking about other people's lives, instead of living my own.
These days, we read cookbooks and novels and magazines. We clean. We cook. We talk. Sometimes we watch Netflix movies. Overall, I'm glad we watch less TV. I feel more awake.
There are a lot of anti- TV hippie enthusiasts in our town, and I'm not really a part of that camp yet. I'm bummed I'm missing the Oscars. But until I can control my intake, I'm going to avoid cable. No TV until I crave Masterpiece Theater instead of I Love Money. I naturally gravitate toward the tacky and the trashy, so that day may never come.
Anyway, tomorrow I will re-attempt the Pavlova cake. Wish me luck!

Ceci feigning interest in a toy.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Free Advertising for the Oriental Bamboo Ear Wax Cleaning Spoon

Today's post is brought to you by boogers and earwax.
Ceci has a nose full of boogers and ears crammed with wax and I cannot stop trying to excavate both. Gross, I know. I have become one of THOSE mothers. You know the ones. The monkey-like mother that obsessively grooms her child.
It amazes me that cleaning out my daughter's nose does not make me squeamish at all. It actually makes me feel accomplished. Am I mentally ill? Possibly.
Since my hobbies include surfing the Internet for objects to waste money on (only when I'm not busy picking Ceci's nose), I came across this gem- the Oriental bamboo ear wax cleaning spoon. This thing is brilliantly marketed towards obsessive compulsive and culturally insensitive mothers. Do I need to buy this "very special oriental gift" for Ceci? Maybe I do.  If I rupture her eardrum while using it, at least I can distract her from the pain with the "strap -on mascot".
Check it out and tell me if it isn't the most lethal looking Q-tip you've ever seen.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Candida Got Me Down

So, lately I've gotten more than my fair share of "chubby thighs/ fat baby" jokes, and I'm feeling sensitive because at Ceci's recent doctor's visit, I mentioned an innocuous rash on her neck and was told it was a yeast infection. Um, people, I work at a doctor's office and I see herds of fat people with yeast infections in their fat rolls. I've started associating yeast infections with the obese.
But really, what strikes me is that not only does fungus stalk my life, but so does this stupid fear of my daughter being teased for being overweight. I could go on for hours about female body issues and how they fuck with your mind etc. It's old news.
It's also silly how a little fungus in your daughter's neck can mess with your peace of mind. It's no biggie, right?
In other news, I am seriously considering buying this cabin for my cat.
I feel a bit guilty for ignoring her since the baby came. This cat used to be my BFF. Now she's like an annoying relative that you resent, but you are not sure how to ask them to leave. Once again, I am a terrible person.

Friday, February 18, 2011

This Moment

This moment. A Friday ritual. A single photo- no words- capturing a moment from the week. A single, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor, and remember. Inspired by Soule Mama.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Day

Heart shaped ricotta pancakes from the Old Town Cafe

Ceci and Ada

Ceci pulling a weird zombie maneuver on Ada. She has my talent for scaring away potential friends with her unquenchable thirst for human flesh. 

Heart garland I made at the Temple Bar craft night. Martha Stewart, watch out! I'm sneaking up behind you with a club and some chloroform. Wow. This post is just getting creepier and creepier, isn't it?

The pavlova cake that I fucked up utterly and had to throw away. It sounded great though, and according to the lovely Megan, it is. But I am too mentally challenged to use parchment paper, apparently. Also meringue baffles me. Although in my defense, it is a recipe from an Australian website and the temperature described was in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. So I spent the entire afternoon trying to bake a cake at 100 degrees. Christ, how embarrassing.
Good thing my husband loves me. Happy Valentine's day!

Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Painted Man

The Black Apple

I'm newly obsessed with this Portland artist and especially her "Lost on the Midway" series. It reminds me of one of my favorite books, Geek Love, and it fills me with the warm fuzzies. I'm not sure how many unframed prints one infant girl needs for her nursery, but one more can't hurt, right?

In other news, Ceci had an epic meltdown tonight. The girl was very tired after a long day with no nap. I continue to be baffled by this child that fights tooth and nail against napping during the day. If someone was cooing to me, reading to me, and cuddling me all day I would sure as shit be happily sleeping all the livelong day. I love sleeping. I love sleeping so much that I believe the sleep deprivation is the hardest part of parenting. Even when Ceci is a hormonal teenage girl attempting to stab me with a shiv, I will be thinking -
"This teenage homicidal angst IS challenging, but really, that sleepless screaming baby was INSANE"*.
I'll have a triple espresso, please.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


Well, there's no theme behind this post except that I am deeply moved by this guy's panache. I saw this gentleman in Venice Beach a few years ago while I was vacationing in LA with friends. Really, who could be more beautiful and inspiring than this man? He's obviously highly committed to physical fitness, and he's not afraid to show off his chiseled bod. He is patriotic, and doesn't let his limited clothing prevent him from toting the essentials around. Please note the mysterious tube of pepper spray or possibly sunscreen wedged between the fanny packs. I'm going to go ahead and assume it's sunscreen, because although he is gifted with ample melanin I can tell he is sun-savvy. 
I admire self confidence, and he has it in spades. Cheers my man! Next time we cross paths I will buy you a protein shake. Until then stay awesome.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Weekend Bling

A great big thanks to Studio 30+ for adding my blog to today's Saturday Spotlight! I think they included everyone who emailed them, but I'm just going to go ahead and pretend I've just won a really prestigious award. It's good for my self-esteem, ok?
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