Last month, in my effort to enrich our national vocabulary, I reported on T's use of the word jimmy-jangled. Fittingly, this month's vocabulary lesson is a word that has been jimmy-jangled together: coo-coo le crazy. Plenty of folks have behavior that is a little odd. Those folks may be coo-coo or they may be crazy. But when behavior or words go over-the-top nuts, then let's face it: we need a better description for what's just occurred. Behold coo-coo le crazy. When you sound or act insane but you don't know it, then you're coo-coo le crazy. To hear T explain it, coo-coo le crazy is a 15 on the 10 point scale of nuts.
We've all been a little nuts on occasion. And then we've come back across to the sanity side of the table. We recover. But there is no recovery from coo-coo le crazy. And yes, I'm looking at you, Rick Santorum.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Real Life Conversations with T: Capitalist Exploitation edition
The backstory: Yesterday, I read a Mac McClelland Mother Jones story about on-line retailers and the inexcusable labor practices of the their warehouse operations and promptly felt bad about on-line purchasing. This is a shame, because most of my clothes and shoes are purchased in this fashion. T, forced to endure my horror, opted to make me feel better about things.
Me: And the warehouses are dreadful…yammer, yammer, yammer. I mean really awful for the workers, whinge, whinge, whinge. I feel bad for shopping on line. Amazon is among the worst but I love Amazon.
T: Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, honey. All that Etsy stuff you buy offsets the karmic damage.
Awesome.
Me: And the warehouses are dreadful…yammer, yammer, yammer. I mean really awful for the workers, whinge, whinge, whinge. I feel bad for shopping on line. Amazon is among the worst but I love Amazon.
T: Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, honey. All that Etsy stuff you buy offsets the karmic damage.
Awesome.
Monday, February 27, 2012
McBraces
Last month, when JT's braces were first placed on his teeth, I made a picture of the shiny new wires and elastics (he went with bright blue and orange for the first month).
On that day last month, we decided that I would make his picture each month, a record of the changes that seem to be coming our way far faster than I expected. Today, he got his second set of elastics. He chose red and gold in honor of Harry Potter, whose theme park we'll be visiting next week.
Things are coming along nicely. McBraces even got himself a complement for his quality brushing and flossing….and that alone is a miracle that might be worth the thousands of dollars that straight teeth will cost me.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Cardinal!
Two cardinals have made their home in our backyard this winter and though they are sometimes elusive, the other day I was able to snap this shot of one of the birds. Look closely for the spot of red in the middle of the lawn.
That's happy.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Public Service Announcement: Shoes
My job is mostly performed on my feet. And at the end of a day on my feet, I like to head to the gym and run. On my feet. Running is a lot more enjoyable when my feet don't hurt. The upshot of this personal reality is that I am careful of my feet. I have a preference for comfortable shoes with a good deal of arch and heel support. Admittedly, this likely means that I'm not particularly stylish. As it turns out, I don't care so much about that. Having seen what "stylish" looks like, I'll take a pass and opt for functional feet. I think the rest of the population should follow in my foot-steps and I'd like to propose a shoe dress code to make it happen. This is for your own good, America. On my banned list.....
Heels over 2 inches tall
Heels so high that you cannot walk in a sturdy fashion do not make you look sexy. You do look silly, and that's the best thing I can say about that. And beware: those heels place you in much greater danger that your already far too-short skirt will reveal more than you intended to reveal. At least I hope that's more than you intended to reveal…..eeeep, I say. Eeeep.
Fleece-Lined Nonsense
Lest you think I'm picking on high heel wearers…..let's talk about those dreadful fleece-lined Ugg boots and suede slippers people stomp about in. If you must wear this footwear (say, you live in an igloo and are chilled to the bone; you're a guest at my home), for heaven's sake PICK UP YOUR FEET when you walk. Nothing quite sets me an edge like my fellow citizens dragging their feet as they walk through life. Cut that shit out, people. Stat.
And what is the deal with untied laces?
Frequently, I see people (let's admit it....they are mostly young, though one hopes old enough to know how to tie their own shoes) slouching about with nice shiny sneakers, carefully laced up, and then left untied. Why is this stylish? How can it be comfortable? Are these folks in need of the instant ability to step out of their shoes and run free in their socks? I don't understand. And more to the point: I don't approve.
I expect there are other styles of footwear worthy of banning and as the nation's primary advocate of Shoe Authoritarianism, I'll be happy to add them to the list. Let me know, Internet. I'm ready to act.
Heels over 2 inches tall
Heels so high that you cannot walk in a sturdy fashion do not make you look sexy. You do look silly, and that's the best thing I can say about that. And beware: those heels place you in much greater danger that your already far too-short skirt will reveal more than you intended to reveal. At least I hope that's more than you intended to reveal…..eeeep, I say. Eeeep.
Fleece-Lined Nonsense
Lest you think I'm picking on high heel wearers…..let's talk about those dreadful fleece-lined Ugg boots and suede slippers people stomp about in. If you must wear this footwear (say, you live in an igloo and are chilled to the bone; you're a guest at my home), for heaven's sake PICK UP YOUR FEET when you walk. Nothing quite sets me an edge like my fellow citizens dragging their feet as they walk through life. Cut that shit out, people. Stat.
And what is the deal with untied laces?
Frequently, I see people (let's admit it....they are mostly young, though one hopes old enough to know how to tie their own shoes) slouching about with nice shiny sneakers, carefully laced up, and then left untied. Why is this stylish? How can it be comfortable? Are these folks in need of the instant ability to step out of their shoes and run free in their socks? I don't understand. And more to the point: I don't approve.
I expect there are other styles of footwear worthy of banning and as the nation's primary advocate of Shoe Authoritarianism, I'll be happy to add them to the list. Let me know, Internet. I'm ready to act.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Impractical
Yesterday and today the weather around here has been stunningly lovely. Whereas late February typically brings cold (and sometimes cold's best friends ice and snow), we've instead had some very mild days. Temps today will likely top out in the low 60s; there is sun and blue skies and just a few clouds skidding by my window. Though I've not really earned this blessing, I am practically giddy at its development.
We've not required a snow day at all this year so I find myself longing for the opposite: a good weather day. As in: hey, y'all, stay home from school today because the weather is nice. This sort of thinking may be charming, of course. But it also explains why I'll never be management material.
Update: As of Friday morning, there is a cold rain falling and the forecast high is in the mid-40s. So Winter isn't quite yet done with us.
Sigh.
We've not required a snow day at all this year so I find myself longing for the opposite: a good weather day. As in: hey, y'all, stay home from school today because the weather is nice. This sort of thinking may be charming, of course. But it also explains why I'll never be management material.
Update: As of Friday morning, there is a cold rain falling and the forecast high is in the mid-40s. So Winter isn't quite yet done with us.
Sigh.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
What's it to Me?
When it comes to birth control, I shouldn't have a dog in the fight. In addition to the fact that I play for the all-girl team, I'm the mother of a son. So I'm in no particular danger of being responsible for an unintended birth, let alone birth control.
But the current national discussion of women's access to birth control, one filled with loud claims by opponents of birth control for women (I'm talking to you, Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney) sets me on edge. Without a doubt, a woman's access to educational, economic, social, and political power in this nation is a direct function of her access to the ability to control when (and if!) she will become a mother. In the less developed parts of the world today, access to education and birth control for women reduces the poverty of any society within 20 years. The dangers and responsibilities of childbirth are real and significant and women who can control their reproduction have so many more opportunities for both themselves and the children they choose to mother. In my mind, this is a human right.
I realize that men have a stake in reproduction and I'm not discounting that. But for nearly all of human history, men have sought to control women's bodies. Women in modern, developed 2012 may not always realize just how close they are to patriarchal management of their uterus. But they are incredibly close, as close as the 1965 Supreme Court ruling in Griswold v. Connecticut, a ruling that prevented states from making birth control illegal for women to obtain. It's as close as the election of one of the chuckleheads who seems determined to ignore the very real health concerns of more than half of the population.
This morning, Mother Jones organized a chart to show the costs of birth control in this nation. Check it out here. There are both women and women's groups speaking out about birth control and the importance of making it widely and easily available. Planned Parenthood is here. The Guttmacher Institute is here. These folks deserve our dollars and our very loud support as they fight the good fight for women and their children.
But the current national discussion of women's access to birth control, one filled with loud claims by opponents of birth control for women (I'm talking to you, Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney) sets me on edge. Without a doubt, a woman's access to educational, economic, social, and political power in this nation is a direct function of her access to the ability to control when (and if!) she will become a mother. In the less developed parts of the world today, access to education and birth control for women reduces the poverty of any society within 20 years. The dangers and responsibilities of childbirth are real and significant and women who can control their reproduction have so many more opportunities for both themselves and the children they choose to mother. In my mind, this is a human right.
I realize that men have a stake in reproduction and I'm not discounting that. But for nearly all of human history, men have sought to control women's bodies. Women in modern, developed 2012 may not always realize just how close they are to patriarchal management of their uterus. But they are incredibly close, as close as the 1965 Supreme Court ruling in Griswold v. Connecticut, a ruling that prevented states from making birth control illegal for women to obtain. It's as close as the election of one of the chuckleheads who seems determined to ignore the very real health concerns of more than half of the population.
This morning, Mother Jones organized a chart to show the costs of birth control in this nation. Check it out here. There are both women and women's groups speaking out about birth control and the importance of making it widely and easily available. Planned Parenthood is here. The Guttmacher Institute is here. These folks deserve our dollars and our very loud support as they fight the good fight for women and their children.
Friday, February 17, 2012
On Twelve
Yesterday afternoon, JT and I headed out to Modell's, armed with some birthday gift cards and a baseball-related wish list: he wanted catcher's gear. Little League practice has already gotten underway and the boy is eager for another season behind the plate. The time had come to invest in his own gear.
As JT tried on the gear and adjusted it all to suit, I was struck by how very quickly the years have passed by. When I welcomed that 7 pound baby bundle into my world twelve years ago, I knew in theory that a boy would some day follow. Even so, at that moment in the middle of the night on February 17, 2000, it seemed like such a time was far, far away.
And yet, here I am, the mama of a young man. He's charming and funny, on the cusp of the world of adolescence (see: iPod, iPad, command of baseball statistics, eagerly read stories in Sports Illustrated, and size 10 feet) yet still willing to embrace some of the trappings of childhood (see: the bins of Playmobil in the playroom, his enduring affection for games of tag, the imaginary games he plays outside, his willingness to call "I love you Mama" as he walks to school in the morning). I feel the passage of all this time. As often as I see glimpses of the little boy he once was, I can see glimpses of the man he will become. And as much as I long to slow the passage of time, I am so very excited to see the future of this seven pound bundle of joy.
Happy Birthday, sweet baby boy of mine.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Real Life Conversations with T: Spoiled edition
T: You don't think that is spoiling the boy, do you honey?
Me: Spoiling? Me?
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Dreaming of Spring
One of the things I really enjoy about New Jersey is the seasons. We enjoy all four seasons here but experience very little of the extremes I endured when I lived in Nebraska or Tennessee. In New Jersey, the calendar is a pretty sound guide to the temperature outside. March, which heralds spring, will bring both longer days and usually a bit of much-desired warmth. I find myself ready for the change.
Unlike last winter's cold and snow, this winter has been comparatively mild. Even so, I'm growing weary of mining jacket pockets in search of gloves and wearing tights, scarves, and jackets. I'm ready for some warmth and the arrival of the short-sleeve, sweater-instead-of-a-jacket season. I want to exercise my California birthright and wear flip flops outdoors. And I long to be in the garden. The last two mornings around here have been cold, but not frigid. I've been drawn outside for just a few minutes. Today, I walked out with my coffee and left some coffee grounds under the azaleas in my front flower bed. Yesterday, I stood on the back deck with coffee and my coat and watched the sun rise.
Each day, we add a few more minutes of sunlight, slowly marching our way forward to spring. I'm glad of it.
Unlike last winter's cold and snow, this winter has been comparatively mild. Even so, I'm growing weary of mining jacket pockets in search of gloves and wearing tights, scarves, and jackets. I'm ready for some warmth and the arrival of the short-sleeve, sweater-instead-of-a-jacket season. I want to exercise my California birthright and wear flip flops outdoors. And I long to be in the garden. The last two mornings around here have been cold, but not frigid. I've been drawn outside for just a few minutes. Today, I walked out with my coffee and left some coffee grounds under the azaleas in my front flower bed. Yesterday, I stood on the back deck with coffee and my coat and watched the sun rise.
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