reasonable creature

no comment, okay?

2007-05-29T23:16:00.001-04:00

I had heard about this, but didn't really process it until is showed up on the Publisher's Lunch list of new book deals:

Denver Post writer Doug Brown's JUST DO IT: How One Couple Screwed Their Life and Love Back Together, about the 101 days the author and his wife committed to have sex every day, no matter what, and exploring how anyone can strengthen a relationship, and fall back in love with their spouse even after a decade together, to Allison McCabe at Crown, by Daniel Lazar at Writers House.

not a hypothetical

2007-05-12T23:47:00.000-04:00

If the Creature takes a job, will she still be Reasonable?

Just axin'.

wanna lift?

2007-05-10T10:19:00.000-04:00

That's right, as of this morning, the Creature is a fully licensed driver. (With a perfect score on the road test, no less.) So to all those people who have let me mooch rides for the past, um, 36 years: Just let me know when and where you need to go, and I'm there.

dept. of making us feel better, encore

2007-05-08T20:06:00.000-04:00

From today's reading, two items that the Creature found most comforting:

On Baby Chic 101, a photo of Apple Martin, about to turn 3 and still drinking from a bottle. (Our doctor demanded we go cold turkey at one year, but we still haven't had the guts to tell Baby.)

And it turns out I'm not the only one who saved the pregnancy test stick as a memento. (Although I did toss it some months later.)

not as bad as they thought, maybe

2007-05-02T22:32:00.000-04:00

Some better news about the Georgetown library in the Washington Post: The historic collections may have not been completely destroyed. And there may be some temporary services restored soon-ish.

Thanks to the many RC readers who have emailed to commiserate.

baby naming

2007-05-01T07:56:00.000-04:00

We've always sensed that there was something otherworldly about Baby. Witness her intense experimentation and nature study (following ants, obsessing about the whereabouts of the moon, testing the laws of gravity, fluid dynamics, etc.). It is as though she is busily readying reports about Earth for her alien overlords. Whatever language it is that she speaks certainly sounds foreign, and her sense of humor is, well, unique.

But my thinking has evolved, and I have a new name for her: Monkey Princess.

I think this captures a lot about her, in particular the contrast between her primate goofiness and her elegant, withering hauteur. She is surely monkey-cub-like in her movements, whether clinging to me, eating a tomato out of her hand, or scrabbling around the living room looking for a pen, or sunglasses, or cellphone left carelessly just within her reach. And while she's no girly-girl, she does have her preeny moments. Plus she is waited on hand-and-foot by her overeducated, underpaid servants. Er, I mean parents.

so very sad

2007-04-30T13:52:00.000-04:00

As I write, the local public library is burning to the ground. I was almost in tears as I watched the roof fall in amid a huge swath of brilliant orange flames. As far as I was able to tell from talking to the police on the scene, no one was injured, but I have come to feel like the place itself is part of our family. Baby visits up to three times a week for the excellent story-and-craft time, and the children's area is--was--big and well-designed, and a great place to run around. Plus the library housed irreplacable archives of local history that no doubt are lost.

It is a big blow to the neighborhood.

babies = bad landlords

2007-04-24T17:16:00.000-04:00

I have a rather bad habit of friendship neglect--there's no good excuse for it, either, save for depressive moments writ large.

But making up is the best part, right? In that vein, here's a gem passed on to me from one such sorely neglected pal. Watch it, you'll thank me.

animals r us

2007-04-21T16:58:00.000-04:00

Words of wisdom from the petting-zoo wrangler at the postponed Easter Egg Hunt party held today at Washington's Rose Park (explaining why the exotic-breed chicken mama was sharing a cage with both her own chick and an unrelated duck):

"You have to keep her occupied. Otherwise she gets frustrated."

Yes, Mr. Farmer Man. She does.

things could be so much worse

2007-04-15T21:37:00.000-04:00

Reader C alerts us to the website True Mom Confessions. A must read. So far my favorite entry is this:

I let my kid watch two back to back movies while I play World of Warcraft.

baby food

2007-04-10T14:16:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I think Baby is special--and sometimes I know she is. At the moment, she is eating a whole tomato, like a hand fruit, while sipping on club soda.

That's my girl!

skinny pants!

2007-04-09T10:32:00.000-04:00

Are there any two more beautiful words in the English language? I think not. Mine are tan cords I bought (on sale!) at Banana Republic around the time I got married. Not particularly stylish, but they mean so much. And I'm wearing them right now.

just axin'

2007-04-05T14:26:00.000-04:00

Is it possible to develop an addiction to Vicks VapoRub?

A "friend" wants to know.

whacka whacka whacka!

2007-04-03T23:10:00.000-04:00

Thanks to another baby-vectored phlegmfest, my voice is all but gone--my real voice, the analog one, that is. But this made me laugh out loud, despite the excrutiating pain (and accompanying coughing out of a lung).

please please please

2007-04-01T10:39:00.000-04:00

Please let the reference to the fierce libido of George Stephanopoulos in today's New York Times be merely some ill-advised April Fool's joke.

Please.

unnecessary list (an occasional series)

2007-03-27T18:31:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, you're watching Sesame Street, and you see something that, well, amazes. For example:

1. The "Elmo's World" about putting on clothing--"you know, clothing!"--in which Elmo dons a seriously leather-man jacket (I tried really hard to find an image of this, but the ~~Children's Television~~ Sesame Workshop people must have sanitized the internets);

2. A song about waking up in the morning that's a rewrite of "Hey Ya" (sans Andre, sans lyrics like "Don't want to meet your Momma/Just want to make you come-ah");

3. Amy Sedaris singing the praises of the humble apple (to a very unimpressed Cookie Monster, it should be noted).

a bout of gore-itis?

2007-03-26T14:14:00.000-04:00

I haven't seen "An Inconvenient Truth," but I did spend the last hour calling up companies to get taken off their catalog mailing lists. (Among them, Chico's--yes, Chico's. From a sad little period of my life.) It's as much for the environment as it is for Husband, who is no doubt sick of carting out all that recycling.

As Kramer said, before he got scary: "now, it's payback time. 'Pottery Barn' is in for a world of hurt."

things i've learned in california

2007-03-23T15:40:00.000-04:00

Although I've agreed with my personal consultant (that is, my pal J) that my daily word count should be no less than 500, I wrote 1000 today, on the dot, no sweat! If I do that again for the next 99 days, I will be in the ballpark. The ballpark of it's time to edit and rewrite. But still.

So I guess I've re-learned how to concentrate on the novel, and how to get a lot of work done.

I've also learned that a breakfast burrito is more than just a euphemism for morning wood!

ADDENDUM: Speaking of which, now I remember what that song in my head is, it's "Nth Degree."

pretentious crap unmasked (first in a series, no doubt)

2007-03-22T13:06:00.000-04:00

I now feel even more justified in hating "I [heart] Huckabees." Thank you, Defamer.

(P.S. I know that a better blogger than I would have figured out how to post the "heart" symbol, but I'm not wasting that 5 minutes of my life.)

oh, those rockin' swedes

2007-03-21T15:35:00.000-04:00

Wanna name your baby Metallica (via Gawker)? Well, why not?

youth and beauty

2007-03-20T13:45:00.000-04:00

Yes, I'm overreacting. But when I went to purchase the aforementioned Nutella crepe last night, the young woman behind the counter called me "Ma'am."

Is it that obvious?

here i am, baby

2007-03-19T20:27:00.000-04:00

I guess the flight went well--I mean, I didn't wake up next to a corpse, but then, I wasn't flying first class. I did, however, sit next to a very nice man with a very viscous cold. And I had a "celebrity" sighting: Bubba Sparxxx. No, I didn't know who that was either, but the gals at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport Starbucks were very excited. I, meanwhile, was mourning the loss of my confiscated hair gel.

And so here I am, miles and miles away from a very pukey Baby (the doctor is sure it's a passing tummy flu), in the land of beautiful undergraduate youths and aged conservative think-tankers. If I were still ranking colleges, I would certainly have to add this to the methodology: At Stanford, you can purchase a freshly made Nutella crepe at 1 a.m. As we used to say at Princeton: 'nuff said.

gone but not forgotten

2007-03-17T21:54:00.000-04:00

Although it is infinitely easier to pack for a trip when you're not lugging a toddler along with you, I'm finding myself pressed for time nonetheless, mostly because a sense of duty--ok, guilt--has me doing every piece of laundry in the house so that Husband won't have to deal with that while I'm away. Also, I baked muffins for his breakfasts.

And if that's not enough, I have a review in the Washington Post this weekend. See? You can have it all.

there's only one way to get the "elmo's world" theme song out of my head

2007-03-16T19:03:00.000-04:00

That's right, the Creature is about to head off for a one-week retreat, out in the Old West. But be of good cheer: This should mean more blogging, not less of it.

dept. of making us feel better

2007-03-13T23:25:00.000-04:00

From the profile of 30-year-old math genius Terence Tao in today's New York Times:

A 2-year-old Terry Tao used toy blocks to show older children how to count. He was quick with language and used the blocks to spell words like “dog” and “cat.”

“He probably was quietly learning these things from watching ‘Sesame Street,’ ” said his father, Dr. Billy Tao, a pediatrician who immigrated to Australia from Hong Kong in 1972. “We basically used ‘Sesame Street’ as a babysitter.”

fruits, labor, etc.

2007-03-12T23:01:00.000-04:00

I have a piece in Tuesday's Washington Post.

reward

2007-03-08T13:56:00.000-05:00

Good things come to those who wait--and so I decided to reward myself for this week's successful work-outside-the-home by visiting various independent bookstores and buying sci-fi novels recommended to me by a blogger I met the other night at a dinner at the European Union ambassador's residence.

(see how I slipped that in there, oh so casually?)

Also, I am told by Baby's minder that it is International Women's Day. So remember to congratulate your uterus--or the uterus of someone you love.

penance

2007-03-07T10:28:00.000-05:00

Every time I file a story I have the same feeling of karmic rebound. After a decade of being on the other side of things as an editor, I can't help but remember that I wasn't always as kind as I might have been--although, I think most of "my" writers would say that I was pretty darn kind. Still, I am reminded this morning how much it means to have an editor who responds quickly when you send in your pathetic scribblings, hoping for a morsel of approbation.

And so I wait!

why?

2007-03-06T22:43:00.000-05:00

Why do people feel compelled to clip their fingernails while sitting behind me on the D6 bus?

Why was there a man getting measured for a suit in the back seating area yesterday at our local Starbucks?

Why has my printer stopped working and my computer gone fritzy the very week I am filing two articles?

Why do I have Baby's "Music Together" cd playing a loop in my head?

Oh yeah, it's 'cause we listened to it four times today. But I still want to know about the first three things.

super mom

2007-03-03T22:10:00.000-05:00

Mornings are not my time. They never have been. And I've been blessed with a child who often respects this, sleeping until 8 or 9. So consider that this morning--a Saturday morning--I was out of the house by 8:30, walking over to the local rec center to sign Baby up for music class. (And yes, she was still asleep.) Got there at around 8:45, half an hour before registration was set to open, but I was not first on line. Or second. I was 69th.

Two hours later, we had just barely made it into a class on the day we wanted. But I did it! And all joking aside, it means a lot that I am not falling at this hurdle, but putting aside my own desires (for sleep) to do something important for her. It took effort, and it was worth the effort.

Plus, I got to eavesdrop on line and heard this amazing story. There was this woman who pumped 60 bottles of breastmilk (over time, of course). And then her husband left the freezer door open.

good weather + yoga class = happy mommy

2007-03-02T16:53:00.000-05:00

Also making me happy today: The mom I met who announced "you know, I really don't like music" when I mentioned Baby's music class. Not that I agree, but I love when people are straightforwardly, surprisingly, honest.

baby's first existential angst, or, death of a snowman

2007-02-25T20:26:00.000-05:00

I suppose I should have thought this through in advance. But the snow was so perfectly packable, and i had a carrot and raisins at the ready, and really I guess I was fulfilling my own childhood fantasy about what a perfect snowman should look like. In any event, it stopped snowing, and started raining, and we looked out the window and noticed that the snowman's head had started to tilt to one side. That's when baby began her slow chant of "uh oh!" She stood watch at the window, pointing, chanting, sad-faced, while I explained to her about how snow melts, and snowmen melt, and that's why we get to build a new one every time it snows. And how we should say "bye bye" to the snowman (whose head had by now fallen off completely).

I don't think she bought it.

But baby angst being what it is, ten minutes later she is telling silly stories (in her language, we don't actually understand them but they seem to have punchlines) and giggling and rolling around on the sofa. I think I'm forgiven.

nine months on, nineteen months off

2007-02-23T08:48:00.000-05:00

After you have a baby, there's this wonderful short period of miraculous weight loss--after all, you pushed out several pounds of it, plus various fluids I'd rather not think about. But most women don't get all the way down to their pre-pregnancy weight right away, and to make them feel better, their friends might chant that magical "nine months on, nine months off"--in other words, it took you nine months to gain all that weight, so it shouldn't be surprising if it takes nine months to get rid of it.

Or longer.

Or never.

But this morning was the big day for me: Hopped on the scale, and there I was, the pre-Baby me. I'm back in my "skinny" jeans, and I've put away the transitional jeans (a few pairs of those, actually).

Of course I'm not really the pre-Baby me, not physically or in any other way I can think of. Nor would I want to be.

mush alert

2007-02-22T23:19:00.000-05:00

I've been waiting for this moment. I used to read Goodnight Moon to my (much younger) brother and (even younger) sister when they were small, and they both did a similar thing. Baby has learned to say, per the "quiet old lady whispering," hush. And she does it with both vigor and exaggerated pronunciation. We read it through several times this afternoon (she made me skip most of the pages so we could get right to the hushing).

It was a nice break from her early-terrible-twos chant of "no!" She says that with vigor, too.

new shoes: is there nothing they can't do?

2007-02-20T16:18:00.000-05:00

I should probably add that they were half-price, just in case you doubted me.

the woo-hoo people

2007-02-17T20:58:00.000-05:00

It may have been in high school that I first noticed them, but by college I was not able to avoid them: People who shout "woo-hoo!" at parties.

Not only have I never done this, I'm not even sure when or why someone would choose to do it. And yet, my current neighborhood is home to many woo-hooers, including the people next door who are doing it right now.

I think these may be the kind of people who use "party" as a verb. Which I also could never understand: What actually happens when one "parties"? It seems like it's just drinking and listening to bad music and having really boring conversations peppered with the "woo hoos." I used to believe, sincerely, that I just didn't understand, and that there was something going on at these parties that I was missing. Or something I was doing wrong, because sometimes I did "party," I suppose, and I was painfully bored, standing in the crush of bodies, having uncomfortable, banal conversations and drinking rancid beer.

So where does the "woo hoo" come from? It predates the ubiquitous Blur song. Any word freaks want to take a crack at this one?

young and younger

2007-02-17T17:40:00.000-05:00

Finally got the car out today, which meant we also got to restock our freezer with Trader Joe's whole-wheat blueberry toaster waffles. Awesome. And once again I cringed at the clientele at the West End TJ's: 20-something singles who look to be "play shopping," bopping around with just a few cute little bottles and packages in their hand baskets. But the scene at the R Street Starbucks was worse: Seems that the model UN conference at the Marriott had just gone on break, so a huge pack of ugg-booted, mini-skirted resume-stuffers had descended. The orders were flying: Tall vanilla-caramel hot chocolate! Vente cinnamon dolce latte! Make that two!

Which is why, when my tall americano was announced by the cashier, the barista blurted out "Americano? That one's got to be for a grown-up, right?"

Yes, Mr. Barista, I suppose that's what I am.

mmmmmm, full of stephen-y goodness

2007-02-16T11:01:00.000-05:00

A devoted RC reader based in Italy drew my attention to some exciting news: Ben and Jerry's has launched a Stephen-themed ice cream flavor! "Stephen Colbert's Americone Dream" is vanilla with fudge-covered waffle cone pieces and caramel swirl. The Fox News website ran the AP story about the new flavor--without comment. But here's what I have to say: I'm so glad it's a vanilla ice-cream based flavor, because I really don't like chocolate ice cream. Too cloying.

what does this say about me?

2007-02-14T17:47:00.000-05:00

Full disclosure: After shoveling today, I salted the front steps and walk with La Baleine sea salt. 'Cause that was all we had in the house.

so very scared

2007-02-14T09:25:00.000-05:00

A full day stretches out ahead with no babysitting and sidewalks too icy and snowy for the stroller.

Gulp.

out of hand, this is getting

2007-02-13T22:25:00.000-05:00

Baby now requires that I go through every page of the Star Wars visual dictionary looking for pictures of Yoda, followed by a google image search for him. "Woh-dah" is even edging out Elmo. These are heady times.

mmmm, spicy crab babies

2007-02-12T20:38:00.000-05:00

The Creature, you may have noticed, prefers a truncated blog roll, though she certainly reads many, many more sites on a daily basis. It just looks cleaner this way. However, from time to time she will alert RC readers to a site that, while not rising to the level of the roll, still is noteworthy.

In that spirit, here is PingMag, "the Tokyo-based magazine about 'design and making things' ":

Isn’t it wonderful to live in a country where drunken panda-seals lounge on peanut snack packages sniffing beer?

Yes. It must be.

so proud i am now

2007-02-10T11:14:00.000-05:00

After hours of extensive coaching by her father, Baby can now say "Yoda!"

These are the moments every mother cherishes.

is it just me?

2007-02-09T14:30:00.000-05:00

The scene: Gentle Hatha Yoga Class, noon
The players: One lovely yoga instructor and four very mellow students, including the Creature

So we're leaving class, and one of the other students pulls on her full-length fur coat. And I'm trying to be all yogic and non-judgmental, but all I can think is "wow, that takes balls."

yes i said yes i will play!

2007-02-05T00:09:00.000-05:00

Forgot to look at this on Friday, but Bookslut pointed toward this video entitled "Pitch 'n' Putt with Joyce 'n' Beckett," which seems like a good enough way as any to begin this week.

typical sunday at rc hq

2007-01-28T13:13:00.000-05:00

I'm baking a wedding cake and listening to classical music, baby is nibbling on rye-caraway crackers and playing with a plastic bag, husband is reading the Michael Pollan article in the Times mag and giving me nutrition advice.

Yes, a typical Sunday--in Bizzaroland!

he's crafty

2007-01-24T16:28:00.000-05:00

No offense to D-Sed, but I think this Gawker post parenthetical has a point:

what does it say about the world that David Sedaris can write for the New Yorker whenever he wants but David Rakoff is forced to share a stage with a blogger and the chick from "Dinner and a Movie"? Nothing good, that's for sure. The man is a genius.

are you freakin' kiddin' me?

2007-01-19T10:13:00.000-05:00

So, the White House Correspondents Association is now not only hiring a pathetic has-been to host the annual bash, but censoring him too?

See what Colbert has wrought?

Speaking of which: Last night's Colbert/O'Reilly mash-up was more like a mash note, but apparently Stephen really did steal a microwave oven from the Fox green room. Which is so weird that it makes me love him even more.

blah blah blah helen mirren blah blah

2007-01-17T14:17:00.000-05:00

I'm as big a fan of Helen Mirren as anyone--basically, I will watch anything she's in, save for "Teaching Mrs. Tingle," which I assume she hasn't seen either. I once saw her in person but was too shy to say anything to her. She was probably 57 or 58 at the time, and drop-dead gorgeous.

So, good for her for winning two Golden Globes, one for playing Elizabeth I, one for playing Elizabeth II. I haven't seen either production yet, though I'm sure they're swell. But don't let that distract you from what may be the definitive Elizabeth I: Anne-Marie Duff, who plays her in "Elizabeth I: The Virgin Queen," a BBC miniseries currently in reruns on Masterpiece Theatre. Duff is an extraordinary Bess, in all her raw, pale, red-headed (and then -wigged) glory. (Plus, she's married to Mr. Tumnus!) And the historical detail is yummy yummy yummy.

little giggle

2007-01-12T11:02:00.000-05:00

Maud Newton made me chuckle this morning with this.

a johnny cash children's album?

2007-01-10T10:53:00.000-05:00

Why didn't anyone tell me about this sooner?

i think i need to be alone with the television

2007-01-09T16:58:00.000-05:00

Those who know the Creature know of her love for the Stephen. Colbert, that is. So the news that he and O'Reilly will be trading appearances on each other's shows is rather exciting!

and a happy new year to you, too

2007-01-07T12:21:00.000-05:00

The Creature has a review in the Washington Post today, here.

tree at last?

2006-12-23T22:23:00.000-05:00

There is a Christmas treelet--two-and-a-half feet tall at its highest point--here at RC HQ, and I have mixed feelings about it. It's only here for the visiting cousins, who come by it naturally, and it was purchased at the Whole Foods, but it has the feeling of a slippery slope about it.

Also, there is a mini-creche on the bookcase. (The Irish visitors call it a "crib," and they call Baby's crib a "cot," and their "creche" is a daycare center. Follow?)

To the miniature Waterford crystal dove and maid-a-milking already on the tree I have added my own ornaments (a Grinch, from a preview showing of the Jim Carrey film; a small plastic lobster; a Homer Simpson action figure--in his Stonecutters outfit). I guess I'm trying to secular it up a little. And I am sort of counting on Baby not to remember that we had a tree this year, so that by the time we figure out our tree policy she hasn't already copped on that she could demand one, by right of her half-Catholicism.

For that, I guess we can wait until she's a teenager.

omigod!

2006-12-22T23:40:00.000-05:00

Why didn't anyone tell me that the new season of Campus Ladies had already begun?

baby talk

2006-12-13T10:34:00.000-05:00

Babble, the new hipster parenting website from the Nerve people, has launched.

true story: the creature needs to spend more time with grown-ups

2006-12-12T18:34:00.000-05:00

As we walked around the neighborhood today, Baby pointed and grunted and I named objects as indicated. Street light! Fire hydrant! Leaves! Palimpsest!

(It wasn't really a palimpsest, to be fair--it was more like a rubbed-out stripe of paint on the sidewalk, probably marking a gas line. But still.)

UPDATE: You'd think that it would be impossible to stick a pink-and-green-flower baby barette in your hair--you know, as a way to show a 16-month-old how barettes work--and then forget about it until you were in the checkout line at the supermarket. But still.

not that i care, but...

2006-12-12T14:35:00.000-05:00

For those of you who were concerned about the situation, Kate Hudson has finally cut that kid's hair.

what's in a word

2006-12-11T13:44:00.000-05:00

How can you tell when a baby has said her first word? There are so many false starts: the mamas and dadas that don't actually signify anything in particular, the claims of various relatives that they heard her say "tomato," really she did! (No, she didn't.)

In one sense, Baby said her first "word" in her first month of life: She had a particular sound she would make when she wanted milk--I would call it a phoneme if I hadn't gotten that B- in Linguistics. It was a completely distinct "ging" that happened to be the exact same sound I made as a baby, when I wanted milk. She said "ging" for the purpose of communication, and it was effective for that purpose. A word, but clearly not a word.

In terms of true English speech, then, there are two contenders. Husband is voting for "eye," which she says while pointing to her eye, so it's definitely legit. It's clearly first, but I prefer the more recent "apple," because it is so cute, and also it's two whole syllables, and she says it with such glee and pride.

The backstory here is that no one can remember what my first word was--apart from that "ging." So I really want to get this thing right.

reader response

2006-12-11T00:04:00.000-05:00

The Creature cares what you think! For example, reader J cautions that our kvelling of last week may have been a bit premature. And he's right, but gosh! we did get excited when we read the headlines. So, a belated caveat to the kvell: Once the rabbis catch up on the sodomy angle, we'll get our naches on.

the creature is kvelling

2006-12-06T22:38:00.000-05:00

Because of this.

"groaning and travailing"

2006-12-04T00:03:00.000-05:00

At the "Answers in Genesis" website, there's an essay occasioned by my most recent book review.

support yr local independent bookstore

2006-11-28T13:40:00.000-05:00

It's so cool how, let's say you have two hours to kill out and about in the city, and for once you remembered a pen, but you forgot your notebook, and you're actually in the mood to write, so you think about buying a new notebook, even though you have a gazillion of them at home and you would have to hide the new one from your husband because he would like freak if he saw you had bought another one, but you don't have enough bits of paper/receipts/blank phone-book pages to work with, so you ask your local nice bookstore lady for some scrap paper and she happily gives you a generous chunk of computer printout from the recycle bin, which turns out to be the best stuff to write on! Ever!

It's so cool.

a little bit lucky and a little bit plucky

2006-11-25T11:05:00.000-05:00

Those of you keeping score at home, take note: Last night in Philadelphia, the Creature beat her own all-time Scrabble record, with a handsome 481.

not a thanksgiving post, per se

2006-11-23T00:28:00.000-05:00

The boys over at Brainiac--perhaps sensing a wee bit of dissatisfaction among some readers frustrated by the boys-club aura beginning to emanate from said blog--call our attention to a Mothering magazine contest that produced this new "international breastfeeding symbol":

I must say I rather love it, all caveats aside about the need to accept and support formula-feeders. And it reminds me that I kind of miss those vachement days, just a little.

rainy day fun

2006-11-22T22:04:00.000-05:00

Blame it on the rain, or on the fact that my iPod seemed to be randomly playing more songs with the word "rain" in them than should be statistically possible. In any event, I decided today to begin the Great Clothing Reassessment that has long been overdue in the RC household. This involved putting away summer clothes, including the maternity stuff I hadn't ever stored last summer, and getting out the winter wear. It also meant trying to rearrange what goes where, especially since there was no previous order--things were just stuffed in whatever closet or drawer or corner happened to be closest at the time.

So I created several piles of clothing, by category. In the process I figured out two things: One, I never need buy a piece of sleepwear again for the rest of my life. And two, it turned out that my pile of "loungewear" was the biggest of all. This is what happens when you work from home/work in the home, I suppose. The need for anything tailored, or dry-clean-only, or not cotton and comfy drops dramatically in favor of old banana republic t-shirts and frayed-at-the-ankle yoga pants. At first you just wear them indoors, while on deadline, or during cleaning binges, but then it occurs to you that you can run out to the Starbucks like this, particularly if you have a coat to throw on top, and then it's not like the people at the Safeway care how you dress...

Before you know it you're showing up at dinner parties in a Gap hoodie and sweatpants.

the greatest story ever told

2006-11-21T09:58:00.000-05:00

Let’s teach our children from a very young age about the story of the universe and its incredible richness and beauty. It is already so much more glorious and awesome—and even comforting—than anything offered by any scripture or God concept I know.

Yes! Let's!

diagnose this

2006-11-18T12:11:00.000-05:00

Every time I see Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas, I think about old people solving crimes. Why?

Oh yeah.

for your reading pleasure

2006-11-18T10:27:00.000-05:00

There's a rather, um, extraordinary letter about my last book review in the Post this weekend.

freedom has a new url

2006-11-13T00:18:00.000-05:00

It's here.

i'm not proud of this

2006-11-09T17:07:00.000-05:00

Earlier this week, baby's doctor announced that we are to go cold turkey on the bottle. Well, we could still do one at night, she allowed, but at 15 months she said it was high time to give them up.

Baby disagrees.

However, husband and I decided to comply, even though it feels like unbridled sadism and it means several hours a day of complaint (which is sort of like unbridled masochism, I suppose). And we'd been spared a battle over the pacifier, since she'd weaned herself off them before we even noticed.

Still, the worst moments are brutal. Today at play class, some of the other moms were commiserating with me, and sharing their own stories. Then Mrs. Fussy Smugalot (not her real name) primly announced that she had called a halt to the bottle at 14 months. Someone else asked how many days of hard going they had before her daughter got used to it. "Oh, no, she's good. It was fine right away," she smirked.

Harumph. Well, fine. Some kids walk early (smirk) and begin sleeping through the night early (smirk, smirk), and others whine incessantly for their bottle even after 14 months, and that's just the way the world works. Normally I don't let the likes of Mrs. S get to me, but the lack of sleep from last night's cryfest plus the misery of the day before had worn me down.

That is, until we were all packing up to leave, and there was Baby Smugalot, tucked into her stroller, sucking on a big ol' multicolor pacifier.

Smirk, smirk.

live-blogging election night

2006-11-07T22:56:00.000-05:00

Actually, I won't be live-blogging anything, but I do find myself mesmerized by Candy Crowley's fingernails on CNN. While I can assure you that black nailpolish is very chic right now, I just don't think it's working for her.

29 hours in hyde park

2006-11-06T20:31:00.000-05:00

Visiting baby's American aunt at the University of Chicago this past weekend I was reminded of many important things. Among them:

1. napping is great, and cannot be overestimated as a recreational activity. Co-napping=even better, if you find the right partner.

2. used-book stores are much better in college towns (or neighborhoods) than in sterile capital cities.

3. you need club soda to make a proper mojito.

At one of the aforementioned bookstores I came across a book of short stories ($5, hardcover!) by Sylvia Townsend Warner, who I had sort of forgotten about even after reading her remarkable first novel from the 1920s, Lolly Willowes. My stepmother had loaned it to me with some other books and I chose to read it first because the cover was wonderfully strange--a bold yellow, with black silhouettes of witches all a-broom. While I have terrible recall for the plots of novels, I seem to remember that this one was lovely and normal until about halfway through when, with a shock, it got quietly trippy and even more wonderful. The short stories--all or most of which appeared first in the New Yorker--are yummy, too, and I fear I will speed through them too fast and be left to myself once again.

In other news, and against all reason, the plants I brought inside for the winter are flourishing, and the petunia (which I grew from seeds!) has bloomed again. Baby loves to be picked up and brought over to the tray of little pots ("gah! gah!") and then we must count each flower and explain about the herbs, sometimes two or three times over.

by now, nothing is shocking, but...

2006-11-02T23:35:00.000-05:00

This might indeed be an instance of pure evil. And the Creature doesn't even believe in moral absolutes (well, it's perhaps a bit more complicated than that, but you get the point). So let's see, a government attacking vulnerable newborn children? Mmmm, that smells evil-riffic!

surprise!

2006-11-01T23:12:00.000-05:00

I never used to believe those stories about high school girls getting pregnant but not realizing it until they give birth in the bathroom during prom. Then when I got pregnant--and realized I was pregnant about 2 weeks after conception--I doubted them ever more. So this AP story caught my eye.

BELLEVUE, Wash. (AP) -- Amanda Brisendine attributed the 30 pounds she gained in the past year to an abandoned smoking habit and rich food. So when she went to the hospital with sharp stomach pain, she wasn't expecting to leave with a newborn son.

''I don't know how I didn't know. I just didn't know,'' Brisendine said Tuesday from her bed at Overlake Medical Center's Birthing Center, where she delivered Alexander Joseph Britt by Caesarean section.

I suppose we humans have an enormous capacity for self-delusion. But I still don't quite believe this is true.

in other TV matters

2006-10-30T21:18:00.000-05:00

I am really scared about what's going to happen on the Weeds season finale tonight. I feel like the only way they can get out of this is if the DEA dude gets killed in a gun battle with U-Turn. But that seems like a longshot. Also I want Zooey Deschanel off the show, she is too annoying. And I'm very bothered by how they have made Kevin Nealon seem the teensiest bit sexy. That is seriously wrong.

UPDATE: OMG! (Ineffective spoiler alert) They killed Peter!! OMG!

synergy, circa 2006

2006-10-30T14:40:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or is the idea of Andy Dick doing a guest spot on Martha's TV show a little too wonderful?

mother nature is a mad scientist

2006-10-26T12:45:00.000-04:00

Here at RC HQ, we can't stop looking at this (NYP via Gawker).

silly patty! stem cells are for curing kids

2006-10-25T23:07:00.000-04:00

The stem-cell research ad battle in Missouri: almost as much fun as a vice president shooting some guy in the face. First there was Rush Limbaugh calling Michael J. Fox too Parky in his ad supporting the pro-stem-cell candidate. Then came the response ad featuring movie-Jesus Jim Caviezel speaking Aramaic (why, exactly, is he still speaking in a way-dead language? I mean, he knows he's only movie-Jesus and not Jesus-Jesus, right?) along with testimonials from a couple of St. Louis athletes, including pitcher Jeff Suppan, scheduled to start in tonight's World Series game--but oh yeah, the game was rained out, suggesting that a higher power may indeed be weighing in on this issue.

But let's focus for a moment on the other star of that ad: Patricia Heaton. I blogged about her a couple years back here. Then she was starring in creepy telemovies and honorarily chairing the group "Feminists for Life." Now she's attacking the scientists who actually have a chance at saving real lives. Also she seems to think that in the not-too-distant future Earth will be overrun by marauding clone-monsters who will force poor women to donate eggs to them. Or something like that.

warning: potty humor

2006-10-24T22:20:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, even the Creature doesn't know what to say.

Case in point: The plush urine and feces advertised recently on Baby Chic 101. "Meet Pee & Poo, Escapees from the bathroom!"

Pee&Poo – the #1 and #2 cuddly toys, sweeping the globe. Loved by children and adults alike.
The dazzling duo from Sweden helps stop the drama of potty training in a disarming and fun way. See also our range of signature gear for kids, plus a little something for you.

The website homepage shows the two--a drop of pee and a pile of poo, with mouths that are disturbingly reminiscent of one orifice in particular--at the end of a brown and yellow rainbow. In addition to the little critters themselves, you can buy P&P-themed t-shirts, underwear, and temporary tattoos, for baby or adult.

Maybe it all makes more sense in Swedish?

she's available for weddings and bar mitzvahs

2006-10-23T23:04:00.000-04:00

It's happened, and all too soon: Not yet 15 months old, baby has started to make fun of me.

Here's how it goes. I've been coughing a lot (last vestiges of l'affair du phlegm), and each time I have a bout of it, she looks at me, and then coughs in imitation. And then she laughs, and laughs.

This is what passes for humor among the veggie-puffs set, I suppose.

while i was out

2006-10-23T09:10:00.004-04:00

So there were many things I wanted to blog about during my period of phlegm-itude, but my head was always too foggy to actually type out a post. Most of these gems will now be lost to history, but there's at least one thing I feel I must bring to the attention of RC readers. I'm sure by now you have read about Times writer Alex Kuczynski's addiction to plastic surgery, chronicled in her new book, Beauty Junkies. (You can follow Gawker's fervent obsession with her here.) And I'm sure you too have been wondering how she came to be this way. One possible answer was tucked into a "critical shopper" column in last week's Thursday Styles, Kuczynski's review of the Madison Avenue Oilily shop:

In the third grade, I had a teacher named Mrs. Francomono. She was always complaining of poor circulation and fussing that her legs were unbearably hot. While she read to us, sitting on a plastic inflatable doughnut, the girls were allowed to take clean paintbrushes and stroke Mrs. Francomono’s lower legs, encased in cruelly tight support hose, with cool water.

To this day, when I hear someone reading from a book, I remember the odd sensation of stroking cold water on nylon support stockings, as scratchy as sharkskin, with a soft paintbrush.

Okay, let's say it together: Ewwwwwww! No wonder poor Alex wants to stave off old age as long as possible. And perhaps we can, therefore, forgive her for not at all understanding the genius of Oilily, a Dutch women's and children's clothing company. (Weirdly, she complains about the prices--isn't that a no-no in the Styles section?) I suppose I'm a little sensitive because if I had the cash I'd be dressing baby primarily in their stuff, but I think this, too, may be Alex's cry for help. If the anhedonia is so acute that you can't even enjoy Oilily's Bjorkian technicolor sherpa stylings, well, let's face it: even the best eye-tuck isn't going to make you happy.

cue the ACDC intro

2006-10-21T10:42:00.000-04:00

Yep, Creature is back. Shout out to husband for his excellent guest blogging.

I have a review in this weekend's Washington Post here.

And all that knitting on the sofa? I finished my first ever sweater (for baby) last night and she is wearing it right now. Which means I've fulfilled all my hopes and dreams for motherhood, and it's not even 11 a.m.

family values

2006-10-18T23:48:00.000-04:00

While creature normally tries to avoid politics-blogging, it's hard to ignore that big elections are just 3 weeks away -- and it's no less true for being a cliche that these elections will help determine what kind of world baby grows up in. Anyway, with that in mind, and by way of monitoring the opposition, we came upon an article in which the National ("Why don't you get William F. Buckley to kill the spider?") Review asked a set of Republican luminaries what the Republicans need to do to pull the game out of fire.

Providing what is doubtless meant to be advice to help regain the soccer/security/mortgage Mom vote, Lisa Schiffren provides the appropriate analogy --

As a parent I’ve learned that sometimes punishing a child who deserves it will cost me more than it will teach her. That’s a judgment call. Passionately exhort your constituents to exercise such judgment.

So: the party that promised us that the grown-ups would be in charge is more like the baby who likes to eat Daddy's DVD equipment. But rather than dwell on this logic, we ask instead whether Lisa Schiffren is fit to be dispensing sensible mom prescriptions in the first place. Through the miracle of the Internet, cast your mind back to George Bush's "flight" onto an aircraft carrier in May 2003, with that Mission Accomplished banner, and to the gushing scribe who wrote --

I had the most astonishing thought last Thursday. After a long day of hauling the kids to playdates and ballet, I turned on the news. And there was the president, landing on the deck of the USS Abraham Lincoln, stepping out of a fighter jet in that amazing uniform, looking--how to put it?--really hot. Also presidential, of course. Not to mention credible as commander in chief. But mostly "hot," as in virile, sexy and powerful ...I decided to run a reality check among the soccer moms I spend my days with. At my daughter's East Side school, my friend Emily, a mother of two and probably a liberal, examined the picture of the president in his fly-boy gear that I just happened to have in my purse. She looked carefully, grinned and said, "He's a hottie. No doubt about it. Really a hottie. Why haven't I noticed this before? He looks so much better than Michael Douglas in that movie we saw," comparing the tired, indifferent megastar of "The American President" to the totally present leader of the free world.

And it goes on like that. And who would this gushing scribe be? Why none other than the one who watched her "hottie" turn into a bold little boy, Lisa Schiffren!

[as creature continues to recover from the baby-vectored cold, this post again written by husband of creature]

pint-sized priorities

2006-10-17T23:55:00.000-04:00

Baby's fan club at the local Whole Foods is growing to a cast of thousands, but she carefully manages her interactions. In particular, whether or not she rewards an entreaty with her beaming smile depends on what else is going at the time -- specifically whether she's working on a bottle. If she is, then the suitor gets a sideways glance which translates as "It's interesting that you've come to see me, but can't talk, drinking." If the visitor persists, then they do get a smile, but it's that smile constructed around the top of the bottle which remains the prime target. Of course, once the bottle is gone, it gets tossed to one side and she's ready to surf the crowd.

[this post written by husband of creature, like yesterday, as creature does battle with the Forces of Phlegm]

wise beyond her years

2006-10-16T23:30:00.000-04:00

Baby is very excited with her latest acquisition: a hand-me-down plastic kitchenette. One of its accessories is a vertically-mounted plastic phone above the "sink." In an interesting commentary on how baby sees the grown-up world, her version of cooking is a plausible shifting of plastic food items around the plastic stove, while her version of being on the phone is a bizarre and loud bleating into the phone that makes no sense at all but leaves her extremely happy once it's over.

[posted by husband of creature, due to creature being indisposed with a cold--i.e., lying on the sofa knitting and watching her beloved Colbert]

up

2006-10-10T23:37:00.000-04:00

Baby climbed all the way to the top of the stairs today, unaided (but with husband spotting and me cheering her on). Which means, I suppose, that she can no longer be referred to here as "baby." But "toddler" is too awkward. I will have to think more about this.

distracted

2006-10-10T23:34:00.000-04:00

I'm watching The Daily Show right now and all I can think about is how David Cross currently has facial hair that makes his chin look like a hairy little butt. I know he's just a comedian, but shouldn't he at least have a part-time stylist?

big day

2006-10-04T09:27:00.000-04:00

I can't decide which is weirder: Turning 36 or marking the one-year anniversary of being "asked to take a buyout." Thoughts?

just when you thought fox news couldn't get any better

2006-10-04T08:48:00.000-04:00

I almost can't believe this, but if it's for real, it is such a sweet catch. Those people are CRA-ZEE!

why didn't you think of this first?

2006-10-02T11:09:00.000-04:00

Gawker brings us the starting entry in what promises to be a sweet new series: "The Unethicist," answering the same queries as Randy Cohen does, but, well, differently.

crisis

2006-09-30T20:33:00.000-04:00

I had made a mental note not to write about TV again so soon after the past few posts. HOWEVER. I was poking around the Sci-Fi channel site, trying to figure out when the next episodes of Stargate SG1 and Stargate Atlantis would be running, when I learned that the channel has actually cancelled SG1.

This will not stand.

Please join the campaign. There is no greater issue facing the nation today.*

*Yeah, I know. But wouldn't it be great if this were true?

good night, david

2006-09-29T22:57:00.000-04:00

Unless I'm mistaken, former New Jersey governor James McGreevey last night ditched David Letterman for Jon Stewart. Gawker referred us to this clip of Letterman's response to the last-minute no-show, a McGreevey-themed Top Ten list that is about one step away from straight-out (!) homophobia. Compare it with the Daily Show's interview with McGreevey, which, while goofy, was also kind of sweet in parts. It's a perfect example of why Letterman's day is done: the culture has passed him by.

fink vs. blink

2006-09-29T18:48:00.000-04:00

Oddly enough, I was watching prime time TV last night, and managed to see all of "Ugly Betty." There are certainly some interesting things to say about it, but I was too distracted to think about them due to this: Could Kevin Sussman, who plays Betty's creepy ex-boyfriend,

... possibly look any more like Malcolm Gladwell??

guilty as charged

2006-09-28T11:49:00.000-04:00

Wasn't it funny to watch Stephen Colbert accept Mort Zuckerman's "apology" last night, in honor of the week between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, a period of atonement? And wasn't it funny to hear Mort say that he feels free-floating guilt at this time of year, for some reason? Why would that be?

insult, meet injury

2006-09-25T00:42:00.000-04:00

It was already bugging me that in Philadelphia they get the Times Sunday sections on Saturday, as in New York, when we in Washington have to wait until Sunday. But this weekend I learned that the egregious crossword error (noted in the previous post) that so frustrated me on Friday did not occur in the Philadelphia edition. Which is just so unfair.

i ask for so little

2006-09-22T18:15:00.000-04:00

Really, I do. I just want there to be some time during the day when I can sit on my own and work the Times crossword puzzle. The days that this doesn't happen, usually I am prevented by mommying duties, and I accept that as a matter of course.

So when baby went for a blessed second nap late this afternoon, i sat down with my folded over Arts section and a nice black pen. Looked down at the first few clues, and realized only then that the paper had reprinted the same puzzle from yesterday.

I had to retrieve my copy of yesterday's completed puzzle just to make sure I wasn't imagining it. And while I could say something more about the end of high standards in journalism, I'm just too depressed to think about it.

again with the alain

2006-09-17T13:15:00.000-04:00

I'm a big fan of the "Domains" feature in the New York Times magazine. Love looking at other people's homes, especially kitchens. But I was a little surprised when I came to the column in today's magazine, featuring the four-bedroom London Victorian of Alain de Botton. It seemed so, well, familiar, with the white paint and the bookshelves and the Wittgenstein-designed door handles.

That's 'cause I kind of already read it.

The piece that first came to mind appeared in one of the Times of London's weekend magazines this past August. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to be online. But you can still find this August 23 piece from the London Independent. Sample de Botton quote from that article:

"London doesn't really work like cities should. It is far too spread out, it is too big. It has become rather like Los Angeles, it doesn't have that tight city feel which is what makes cities attractive."

And from today's NYT piece:

"What he misses about abroad when home: The feeling of tightly packed urban life that you get in a place like Manhattan or central Paris. London is such a disappointing city. It is spread out and suburban, in many ways closer to L.A. than New York."

Hungry for more? There's also this April story, also in the London Times, but this time listed under the rubric "Women," for some reason. All of the press is in support of his new book, which is about architecture. So I guess that makes it fair play. Don't be surprised, though, if you open your September issue of Cat Fancy and find a feature about de Botton's cat's Bauhaus-inspired scratching post. Consider yourself warned.

what have i, what have i, what have i done to deserve this?

2006-09-15T23:41:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid, I had piano lessons, and while I started out strong, I didn't really like to practice. Eventually, I quit, but not before mastering a single piece of music (or at least, the first movement): Mozart's Sonata in C major. I have always felt guilty about quitting. It seems weak, and allows me to globalize the idea of a personality defect, my lack of followthrough. Plus it would be cool to be able to play an instrument.

Flash forward 20-some years. Baby has exactly two electronic toys, one of which she has become completely attached to. It's part of her "gymini" activity mat--the mat itself has been retired, but we kept this thing around, which plays, you guessed it, the first bit of Mozart's Sonata in C in a seemingly endless loop. Every now and then the loop ends, but baby is quickly on it, grunting and pointing until I restart it.

Dante could not have devised an apter hell.

after you, madam secretary

2006-09-12T17:18:00.000-04:00

A perk of the stay-at-home life is that you can do your errands whenever you want, which also means you can avoid the rush at the supermarket, you get public buses all to yourself--and you don't have to wait in line on election day. Apparently Madeleine Albright is on the same schedule: This afternoon she arrived at Ward 2's 6th precinct polling station just ahead of me, wearing a plain but elegant grey suit. We were getting our ballots, and when the polling staffer asked her "Democrat?" She paused for a moment and said "hell, yeah!"--to the delight of the four other voters nearby.

Incidently, one of the poll workers told me to doublecheck that my party affiliation was correct on their list--she said that a lot of Democrats had been finding that they were listed Republicans. She speculated that someone was trying to make it seem like there are more Republicans in the District of Columbia than there really are. Interesting, no?