I Have Been to the Mall

Posted on 12/12/2006 by cheesefairy

I am pleased to report that I have heard the bane of my Decembers past, “Wonderful Christmas Time” only once this season! On the surface, this is a fine, fine state of affairs because those sleighbells make me mean and surly, however what it means, really, is that something has replaced it ( and before it, Mary’s Boy Child) in the Holiday Torture Canon. That something comes from Sarah McLachlan’s new album Wintersong (or as I’ve heard it referred to, The Nipple Album – you be the judge:

I do think she looks a mite chilly but anyway, she’s covered “River,” a lovely, bittersweet Joni Mitchell song. She’s done a good job; it’s a perfectly inoffensive treatment. But I heard it 4 times today at the mall, as well hearing it every day at Safeway, the liquor store and at the end of ER I think, last week, so I am wandering around in a blue haze now, mumbling about how I drove away the best baby I ever had and how I wish I had a river to skate away on. Which, I suppose, is a suitable enough sentiment for the time of year (dark, stormy weather, breakups [I’m thinking here of the girls behind me on the bus, one of whom recently ended her 2 year relationship in part because, “I was, like, GOD! I just don’t even want to THINK about buying you another present you’ll HATE!”]) but might not be the best music for shopping. Drinking, yes. Shopping, no.

Now as soon as the marketing geniuses figure out that drinking and shopping go together (I am thinking of copious red wine sampling at Walmart, specifically, actually, I’d PAY to drink wine while I shopped at Walmart) like bacon on waffles, they’lll have earned the right to play whatever music they want. Until then, I’ll just have to keep getting liquored up before I leave the house and you know Trombone reacts violently to clouds of rum toddy-breath billowing over his stroller.

Babies. They’re so sensitive.

Posted in music, outside | 4 Comments

Sweet Baby – Week 22 and 23 Because I am a Slacker

Posted on 12/10/2006 by cheesefairy

How is it that you’re sitting up now? Hi? One day you’re not sitting up, the next day you are?

Thursday last you were as resistant to sitting up as ever – kneebending BAD, straightlegs GOOD – and Friday last we stuck you in the stroller in the mall and you sat there. Holding on to your teddy bear, sucking on your fist, sitting. Talking to passers-by and making them coo at you and ask you questions no one can answer, like, “Where did you get those beautiful big blue eyes?” And when I answer, “They’re glass – I bought them on ebay!” people don’t even notice, they just keep staring at you, trying to figure out a way to make you smile again because you’re really, awfully cute.


Another hat by Eastern Grandma. Sweater by Western Grandma.

And the rolling? Every time I put you on the floor, you roll. Last week I put you on the floor and took your diaper off so you could taste your toes and I went into the kitchen and when I came back you were on your tummy. Trying to swim towards the fireplace. Crap! Childproofing!

It’s so frustrating for you. You get rolled over and you think that will solve all your problems. Somehow, the catt will be easier to grab, the television will be closer, the dangly/bobbly/rustly things will all be nearer to your grubby fingers. But this is not the case. You can’t crawl yet. Yet. So you flip over and then you’re all: Hey, I’m on my front but NOTHING IS HAPPENING. Yo. Make something happen, lady.

Sorry. I’m too tired to jig for you, son. You’re just going to have to figure out how to crawl.

We spent the week at your grandparents’ house, where you licked everything. Either you’ve just discovered your tongue, your tastebuds have finally matured or perhaps you have just discovered your lazy side because now instead of grabbing things and putting them in your mouth, (a skill you only just mastered) you now prefer to stick your tongue out and lean hopefully towards things you wish to chew on. When those things fail to insert themselves in your mouth for inspection you either cry the fakest cry I’ve ever heard or keep leaning until you are 1. on the floor or 2. bent double.

Your focus on what you want reminds me of something my driving instructor said, way back when. Look off into the distance and focus on where you’re going, he said, lead yourself with your eyes and your hands will automatically adjust the steering so you get there. It works for licking, too.

You’ve had your Jumper with a Bumper for 2 weeks now. I have been taking several showers a day to make up for lost time. In those 2 weeks you have figured out how to jump higher, how to Riverdance and recently, how to stop moving altogether to enable better licking of the straps that suspend you.

I attempted to document these skills but all 47 pictures ended up looking like this:

You chose your own first book at a bookstore this week: Curious George. I tried to read it to you last night but you just kept bumping up and down on my lap, tongue sticking out, trying to get close enough to lick it. You’re right. Sometimes, books are for licking. And this one came from a used bookstore. I bet it tastes fantastic.


With the addition to your wardrobe of this loaned t-shirt, you are now officially the trendiest of our entire family. Several generations of our family, in fact.

Because you don’t know what you got till it’s gone, I didn’t realize how much of a routine we had until this week when it got blown to hell. We had a good time in the next suburb over, hanging out and eating food. Your grandparents were delighted to spend as much time with you as they did. I was delighted to shower under real water pressure. (Yes, it’s all about the showers. Someday you will understand.) But this morning, when your dad was home and you woke up smiling and I got to sleep in – just a little; not so much that I get spoiled – it was so good. Our little family, our own home-sweet-home.

Posted in trombone | 3 Comments

Hombre Carajo!

Posted on 12/6/2006 by cheesefairy

My apologies if I offend any Spanish speakers (esp. Peruvians) with my title. I think it means Man Penis! but my co-worker who taught me the word carajo (pron. Ca-RA-ho! with a heavy, throat clearing on the “RA” – I don’t even know if that’s the right spelling) won’t tell me what it means because her mother will find her and beat her butt. Mothers are like that. However, it is my favourite exclamation of late, replacing even “Stephen Joseph Harper” because sometimes, there’s just that much more poop and you’re just that tired.

Ahh, yeah, so I’m not dead or quitting writing this blog or anything. I can hear you all releasing those breaths you were holding. Dudes, you’re all blue! But Trombone and I have been holing up chez grandparents and I’ve actually been reading a book instead of the Internet. What? I know. Before there was the Internet, there was books. There were books. I’m reading Pattern Recognition by William Gibson and I have never read a Gibson book before and also I hate sci fi as a genre, but I am loving this book. Take that, preconceived notions. Pow! Right in the kisser.

For more interesting bloggity woo, check out Saint Aarvark, who is documenting his trip to the great, wooly Washington, DC. And I’ll be back here when I’m back in my own living room with tales of new, perfect doctors, fat babies and dumb catts.

Posted in bloggity!, trombone | 5 Comments

Liberals = Forward!

Posted on 12/2/2006 by cheesefairy

Saint Aardvark is in America, (I know! They let him in! With that beard!) geeking it up for a week and I’ve gone bachelor. Currently eating a frozen lasagna (from M&M Meat shops – and it’s surprisingly tasty and yes I heated it) out of the plastic pan, watching Entertainment Tonight. Tonite? Tonight.

No sooner did nablopomo close its heavy doors but some gremlins in the computer made the cheeseblog disappear! Plus, my email! As I am Totally Blogged Out, I spent the afternoon staring at the TV while it broadcast the Leadership Convention for Canada’s Liberal Party. They did it up really well! They’ve got some money, those Liberals. There were even fireworks at the end. Just like a Nickelback show.

I’m not a Liberal. And I didn’t think I was particularly interested in the leadership convention. But last night I turned on the TV when Bob Rae was speaking and suddenly it was like a reality show. I had to find out who won. I kept looking for Tyra but she was totally not there.

I used to think Michael Ignatieff was handsome but close up he looks a bit like Norman Bates. Also, I’m pretty sure I heard him assert during his speech yesterday that “Aboriginals enjoy the same rights as the rest of Canada” and that kind of canard cannot go unpunished. So Bye! Bye! mon cowboy, no leadership for you.

Anyway, Stephane Dion won (all you Americans are so glad you came by, no?) and he does not appear to be powerful enough to be Prime Minister but hey: I live in constant amazement that prime minister Stephen Harper hasn’t melted yet so I could yet be surprised by the little grey-haired professor who named his dog Kyoto after the Accord.

I was watching with the sound off & closed captioning on. I recommend this. 1. The spelling mistakes are often hilarious and 2. You can discover things that might escape you if you were listening. For example, we already knew that “moving forward” was like a bowl of Cool Whip in its useless fluffiness and inexplicable popularity amongst those who try to sound smarter than they are. But did you know that close on its heels is “transformative change?” Now, there’s a phrase. I have seen it written countless times and heard it uttered even more times. I’ve typed it. I’ve even booked meetings for crowds of people where Transformative Change was the topic. (ha ha! Muffins for everyone!) I know people who champion it. But – amazingly – until today, I didn’t realize how significantly awful it is.

I find it useful to role-play when attempting to cut through bafflegab:

“So with the new initiatives, which way are we moving?”
“FORWARD!”
“Not backward? You’re sure? The initiatives are NEW, remember.”
“No! Forward! The way forward is forward. Moving forward!”

See how fun?

“What kind of change?”
“The transFORMATIVE kind!”
“As opposed to…”
“The kind where nothing transFORMS!”
“So, not change at all, then?”
“CoRRECT!”

I saw a bumper sticker yesterday that said, “Unless you’re a hemorrhoid: get off my ass!” Now sir, ma’am; you’re just INVITING hemorrhoids to blight you, while not really providing any incentive for me not to hit you. You saying I’m going to want to not think of myself as a hemorrhoid so much that I’m going to change lanes and stop tailgating?

Where are the bumper stickers that say NOTHING? Nice, long strips of sticker with no words. That way, no one squints up against their windshield to see what it says and that way, you, mr. bumperstickerman, don’t get rear-ended. Which I’m pretty sure is what you’re trying to avoid. As you move forward.

Posted in food, outside, television | 3 Comments

OK Not Quite the End

Posted on 11/30/2006 by cheesefairy

I can’t stop! Can’t stop the beat! Just like Junior Senior. Go Junior. Go Senior.

Ahem.

So, in all this fuss about the nablopomo, I just remembered the Canadian Blog Awards! where I did not make it to the second round but some other cool people did? OK, so the polls close tomorrow and you really ought to consider voting for Milkmoney Or Not Here I Come for best blog because Schmutzie is Da Bomb and takes gorgeous pictures and writes some damnity good poetry and then, y’know, scroll on down to the bottom to vote for Gecko Bloggle in the category of Science and Tech. He is, like, the techiest dude ever. (except for my own Saint Aardvark) He will speak in paragraphs that require diagramming. He also does some tasty podcast. Yum.

I have no opinions about anybody else. Except I spent a good 20 minutes or so trying to figure out what the hell The Stroumboulopouli is all about (Best Group Blog). It’s about George. Why not, I guess.

The Real End.

Posted in bloggity! | 6 Comments