Tonight as I was getting Isaac ready for bed, he started flipping through a Baby Einstein book he has that purports to teach children about rhymes. As he turned each page, he said the rhyming words to himself out loud.
"Chair. Bear!"
"Mouse. Dollhouse!"
When he got to the page with a picture of a frog next to a picture of a log, he very clearly said,
"Frog. Blog!"
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Pardon Me While My Head Explodes
Yesterday I had a day-long, as in, from the moment I woke up at dawn til I finally slipped into blessed unconsciousness just before midnight, migraine.
Ugh.
The first time I ever had an actual, full-on, NO THIS IS NOT JUST A HEADACHE, THANK YOU, migraine, was when I was in my senior year of college. In the middle of film class while I was squinting at a grainy 1940s drama, trying to ignore a dull throbbing behind my left eye, I experienced a sudden sensation not dissimilar, I imagine, to what one would experience upon having a rusty iron spike driven into one's skull.
I saw rainbow halos around Gene Tierney. Not the pretty kind of rainbow halos either. I'm talking about the thug kind of rainbow halos that dismember fluffy baby bunny rabbits and send the baby bunny rabbit pieces to you anonymously through the mail, postage due.
I slunk out of the lecture hall and staggered to the women's restroom, convinced I was going to hurl. What was wrong with me? Was I dying? Was it a brain aneurism? (I always knew I'd die tragically of a brain aneurism before I hit 25-- I just KNEW it!)
I wasn't dying, of course. I was being hazed. For initiation into the exclusive club of migraine sufferers. Ah, joy.
The migraines continued, at first randomly, then weekly, then, at the worst point, almost daily, for nearly six months. They seemed connected somehow to my vision; they were often triggered when watching movies on a big screen (so much for that "A" I was hoping for in film class) or when I spent more than an hour straight working at my computer. I saw several specialists and asked repeatedly whether my extreme nearsightedness might be a factor, and whether getting a new eyeglasses prescription or having corrective surgery on my eyes might provide some relief. A general practitioner, a neuro-opthamologist, and two optometrists all told me it would not.
I cut chocolate, coffee, tea, balsamic vinegar, parmesean cheese, asiago cheese, and wine out of my diet. I changed my sleep patterns. I tried to meditate. I took long baths. I took long walks. Nothing helped.
Then my glasses broke, and I got a new pair. The headaches all but disappeared.
I started eating chocolate again immediately, and attempted mightily not to wish chocolate-triggered migraines on all of my doctors.
Since then my migraines have been blessedly rare. As long as I keep my eyeglasses prescription up-to-date, I can go months at a time without experiencing one. Sometimes I even start to think they might never be coming back.
So, at first, yesterday morning, when I woke with a dully throbbing head, I tried to convince myself it was not a migraine. I was sniffly when I woke up in the morning, so I thought, hey, this is a sinus headache. I'll take a hot steamy shower and drink some peppermint herbal tea. That will clear up my sinuses, and the headache will disappear.
It didn't.
Around lunchtime, as the dull throbbing became more of a shrill hum, I realized I hadn't been getting much sleep the past few nights. Maybe it was a sleep-deprivation headache! Miraculously, my son fell asleep in my lap with no fuss whatsoever shortly after lunch. I decided to take a little nap with him on the futon.
When I woke up, my headache was worse.
Suddenly it occurred to me-- I'd had caffeinated tea or coffee every morning for the past five days until that morning, when, silly me, I'd tried to clear up my sniffles with herbal tea. Of course! It was a caffeine withdrawal headache. That was it. Look at me, an addict. What a terrible habit, making myself dependent on a certain drink ingredient every day to function. I told myself I would have to cut back on the caffeine. Right after I made myself a nice big steaming stoutly brewed cup of Earl Grey. To wash down some Extra-Strength Tylenol.
My headache stayed.
My husband came home to find me languishing in a chair under dimmed lights with my eyes half-closed while our half-naked child traipsed gleefully through our uncleaned house wantonly scattering plastic toys. Shortly after he arrived I shut myself in our bedroom, locked the door, and hid under the covers of my canopy bed, without a word.
Oh yes, Migraine was back, and Migraine was determined to punish me for forgetting that I am one of Migraine's Chosen Sufferers.
One of these days, I am going to figure out a way to kick that bitch Migraine's ass out of town.
As long as it does not involve giving up chocolate.
Ugh.
The first time I ever had an actual, full-on, NO THIS IS NOT JUST A HEADACHE, THANK YOU, migraine, was when I was in my senior year of college. In the middle of film class while I was squinting at a grainy 1940s drama, trying to ignore a dull throbbing behind my left eye, I experienced a sudden sensation not dissimilar, I imagine, to what one would experience upon having a rusty iron spike driven into one's skull.
I saw rainbow halos around Gene Tierney. Not the pretty kind of rainbow halos either. I'm talking about the thug kind of rainbow halos that dismember fluffy baby bunny rabbits and send the baby bunny rabbit pieces to you anonymously through the mail, postage due.
I slunk out of the lecture hall and staggered to the women's restroom, convinced I was going to hurl. What was wrong with me? Was I dying? Was it a brain aneurism? (I always knew I'd die tragically of a brain aneurism before I hit 25-- I just KNEW it!)
I wasn't dying, of course. I was being hazed. For initiation into the exclusive club of migraine sufferers. Ah, joy.
The migraines continued, at first randomly, then weekly, then, at the worst point, almost daily, for nearly six months. They seemed connected somehow to my vision; they were often triggered when watching movies on a big screen (so much for that "A" I was hoping for in film class) or when I spent more than an hour straight working at my computer. I saw several specialists and asked repeatedly whether my extreme nearsightedness might be a factor, and whether getting a new eyeglasses prescription or having corrective surgery on my eyes might provide some relief. A general practitioner, a neuro-opthamologist, and two optometrists all told me it would not.
I cut chocolate, coffee, tea, balsamic vinegar, parmesean cheese, asiago cheese, and wine out of my diet. I changed my sleep patterns. I tried to meditate. I took long baths. I took long walks. Nothing helped.
Then my glasses broke, and I got a new pair. The headaches all but disappeared.
I started eating chocolate again immediately, and attempted mightily not to wish chocolate-triggered migraines on all of my doctors.
Since then my migraines have been blessedly rare. As long as I keep my eyeglasses prescription up-to-date, I can go months at a time without experiencing one. Sometimes I even start to think they might never be coming back.
So, at first, yesterday morning, when I woke with a dully throbbing head, I tried to convince myself it was not a migraine. I was sniffly when I woke up in the morning, so I thought, hey, this is a sinus headache. I'll take a hot steamy shower and drink some peppermint herbal tea. That will clear up my sinuses, and the headache will disappear.
It didn't.
Around lunchtime, as the dull throbbing became more of a shrill hum, I realized I hadn't been getting much sleep the past few nights. Maybe it was a sleep-deprivation headache! Miraculously, my son fell asleep in my lap with no fuss whatsoever shortly after lunch. I decided to take a little nap with him on the futon.
When I woke up, my headache was worse.
Suddenly it occurred to me-- I'd had caffeinated tea or coffee every morning for the past five days until that morning, when, silly me, I'd tried to clear up my sniffles with herbal tea. Of course! It was a caffeine withdrawal headache. That was it. Look at me, an addict. What a terrible habit, making myself dependent on a certain drink ingredient every day to function. I told myself I would have to cut back on the caffeine. Right after I made myself a nice big steaming stoutly brewed cup of Earl Grey. To wash down some Extra-Strength Tylenol.
My headache stayed.
My husband came home to find me languishing in a chair under dimmed lights with my eyes half-closed while our half-naked child traipsed gleefully through our uncleaned house wantonly scattering plastic toys. Shortly after he arrived I shut myself in our bedroom, locked the door, and hid under the covers of my canopy bed, without a word.
Oh yes, Migraine was back, and Migraine was determined to punish me for forgetting that I am one of Migraine's Chosen Sufferers.
One of these days, I am going to figure out a way to kick that bitch Migraine's ass out of town.
As long as it does not involve giving up chocolate.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Cruel, Careless Mother Destroys Precious Avant-Garde Artwork by Child Prodigy
A Missouri housewife by the name of Ms. Jaelithe J was denounced by the international toddler arts community today for prematurely destroying a masterpiece temporary art installation completed just minutes earlier by renowned child prodigy abstract artist Isaac J, who is Ms. J's son. Child artists and art lovers everywhere will be shocked to learn that Ms. J apparently ruined the piece in full view of the artist, despite the artist's desperate pleas that his work be left intact.
Entitled "Ice Cream Railroad," the work, created with melted vanilla ice cream on a glass table top, depicted an abstract interpretation of the artist's grandmother and grandfather eating ice cream while riding on a train, according to Isaac, who was quite distraught at the sudden destruction of his most daring work yet.
"My picture, my picture, my picture! Mommy cleaned up my good picture! My picture is all gone," the boy genius is reported to have lamented, sobbing for nearly thirty minutes straight after the drawing was ruined.
The child artist's mother, apparently oblivious to the inestimable aesthetic value of the ground-breaking installation, seemed puzzled at the outraged response to her removal of the work. "Well, I told him it was a very pretty picture, but that Mommy needed to clean it up now, because melted ice cream just doesn't belong on the dinner table. I tried to explain to him that ice cream makes things sticky, and I told him if I left it there for too long it might attract bugs. Besides, how on earth were we supposed to eat breakfast the next morning off of a table that was half-covered in ice cream? Of course I felt kind of bad, but I told the boy that if he wanted a picture he could keep, well, he could always just use fingerpaints or crayons and paper."
Despite this sad incident, Isaac maintains he will not be daunted in his quest to create thought-provoking yet accessible art installations for his adoring fans. In fact, he is already working on a new project involving shredded cheese and carpet.
"Some people, especially from the previous generation, just don't understand the true spirit of post-modern art," a source close to the artist said. "But Isaac won't ever let that stop him from trying to enlighten them."
Update: Nominated for a September Perfect Post Award by Bub and Pie! Thanks!
Entitled "Ice Cream Railroad," the work, created with melted vanilla ice cream on a glass table top, depicted an abstract interpretation of the artist's grandmother and grandfather eating ice cream while riding on a train, according to Isaac, who was quite distraught at the sudden destruction of his most daring work yet.
"My picture, my picture, my picture! Mommy cleaned up my good picture! My picture is all gone," the boy genius is reported to have lamented, sobbing for nearly thirty minutes straight after the drawing was ruined.
The child artist's mother, apparently oblivious to the inestimable aesthetic value of the ground-breaking installation, seemed puzzled at the outraged response to her removal of the work. "Well, I told him it was a very pretty picture, but that Mommy needed to clean it up now, because melted ice cream just doesn't belong on the dinner table. I tried to explain to him that ice cream makes things sticky, and I told him if I left it there for too long it might attract bugs. Besides, how on earth were we supposed to eat breakfast the next morning off of a table that was half-covered in ice cream? Of course I felt kind of bad, but I told the boy that if he wanted a picture he could keep, well, he could always just use fingerpaints or crayons and paper."
Despite this sad incident, Isaac maintains he will not be daunted in his quest to create thought-provoking yet accessible art installations for his adoring fans. In fact, he is already working on a new project involving shredded cheese and carpet.
"Some people, especially from the previous generation, just don't understand the true spirit of post-modern art," a source close to the artist said. "But Isaac won't ever let that stop him from trying to enlighten them."
Update: Nominated for a September Perfect Post Award by Bub and Pie! Thanks!
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
What Have I Gotten Myself Into?
So, I am sewing several components of my son's, my husband's, and my Halloween costumes this year.
I forgot one thing, though.
I suck at sewing!
I also do not own a sewing machine. So that means I have to sew everything by hand. With my suckitudinous sewing skills.
Minor technicalities, right? Right?
I forgot one thing, though.
I suck at sewing!
I also do not own a sewing machine. So that means I have to sew everything by hand. With my suckitudinous sewing skills.
Minor technicalities, right? Right?
Saturday, September 16, 2006
My Mother Would Be Proud
Today I went to a fabric store looking for fabric for my family's Halloween costumes. I found just the sort of fabric I was looking for to use in two of the three costumes, on sale for half price. Exactly the yardage I needed was all that remained on the bolt.
I walked into a resale store next door looking for a cabinet to store some of my husband's DJ equipment in-- something I could refinish to look decent. I didn't find anything suitable, but I did find two brand-name, never-worn skirts in my size with the original store sales tags still on them, on clearance for 99 cents each.
Later, after dinner, I went to the mall so Isaac could play with the Thomas the Tank Engine tracks at the bookstore. While my husband watched my son play with the trains, I wandered into a favorite store of mine to browse for a birthday gift for my sister. I can't tell you what I bought there, and I can't tell you how much it cost, because my sister knows this URL. But let's just say-- 75% off? Oh, yes. It was so cheap I feel like I have to buy her something else, too!
Yes, the gods of discount shopping were smiling heartily upon me today.
Tomorrow, I am going house shopping.
Shopping gods, do you like cheesecake?
I walked into a resale store next door looking for a cabinet to store some of my husband's DJ equipment in-- something I could refinish to look decent. I didn't find anything suitable, but I did find two brand-name, never-worn skirts in my size with the original store sales tags still on them, on clearance for 99 cents each.
Later, after dinner, I went to the mall so Isaac could play with the Thomas the Tank Engine tracks at the bookstore. While my husband watched my son play with the trains, I wandered into a favorite store of mine to browse for a birthday gift for my sister. I can't tell you what I bought there, and I can't tell you how much it cost, because my sister knows this URL. But let's just say-- 75% off? Oh, yes. It was so cheap I feel like I have to buy her something else, too!
Yes, the gods of discount shopping were smiling heartily upon me today.
Tomorrow, I am going house shopping.
Shopping gods, do you like cheesecake?
Monday, September 11, 2006
More Beautiful
than anything I might have pushed my tired mind to write today is this quote from my son:
"Icicles are stars crying."
I believe the reason good poetry is so powerful to so many of us adults is that it forces us to think, once more, like a child.
"Icicles are stars crying."
I believe the reason good poetry is so powerful to so many of us adults is that it forces us to think, once more, like a child.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Thursday, September 07, 2006
ARGH!
My electricity just came back on 20 minutes ago after being off for two hours.
Was there a storm? No.
Was it raining in my neighborhood at all? No.
Were there strong winds? No.
Was it so hot today that everyone was running their AC at full blast and the power grid got overloaded? No.
Do I have any effing clue why my power went off for two hours in the middle of the afternoon on a calm, mild, sunny autumn day? Did Ameren give me any information whatsoever about why the electricity was off when I called them?
No.
Did I mention this is the second time my electricity has gone off in the past five days? No. Because I am getting so used to my electricity going off for more than an hour at least once EVERY WEEK that it hardly even seems like a bloggable event anymore.
I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! WHEN DO I GET TO MOVE OUT OF THIS PLACE? WHEN?
Oh, that's right-- when my stupid lease ends in January. Assuming I have managed to pull something like $2,000 in closing costs and $5,000 in down payment out of my, um, hat by then.
*sigh*
Was there a storm? No.
Was it raining in my neighborhood at all? No.
Were there strong winds? No.
Was it so hot today that everyone was running their AC at full blast and the power grid got overloaded? No.
Do I have any effing clue why my power went off for two hours in the middle of the afternoon on a calm, mild, sunny autumn day? Did Ameren give me any information whatsoever about why the electricity was off when I called them?
No.
Did I mention this is the second time my electricity has gone off in the past five days? No. Because I am getting so used to my electricity going off for more than an hour at least once EVERY WEEK that it hardly even seems like a bloggable event anymore.
I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! WHEN DO I GET TO MOVE OUT OF THIS PLACE? WHEN?
Oh, that's right-- when my stupid lease ends in January. Assuming I have managed to pull something like $2,000 in closing costs and $5,000 in down payment out of my, um, hat by then.
*sigh*
Sunday, September 03, 2006
They're Going to Get Along Splendidly
"Hey, Cammy!"
"Yes, Isaac?"
"I just had a lovely idea concerning an entertaining use for these nice new Botanical Gardens membership umbrellas our parents received this morning for being such responsible lovers of nature."
"I'm listening! Do tell."
"Let's whack this tree!"
"Oh! What an excellent idea, Isaac! Yes, do let's!"
Two-year-old conversation simulated. No trees were seriously harmed during the making of this blog post.
"Yes, Isaac?"
"I just had a lovely idea concerning an entertaining use for these nice new Botanical Gardens membership umbrellas our parents received this morning for being such responsible lovers of nature."
"I'm listening! Do tell."
"Let's whack this tree!"
"Oh! What an excellent idea, Isaac! Yes, do let's!"
Two-year-old conversation simulated. No trees were seriously harmed during the making of this blog post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)