Bailout fun

Got this today.

Happy Halloween!

In The Know: Has Halloween Become Overcommercialized?

More on Flying with Kids

Lisa Belkin of the NYT, whose writing I admire greatly, has a nice post on kids on planes. Thought fellow parents might like to read.

The comments are interesting--mostly sympathetic, with a few crabs thrown in who obviously hate kids all around, so no surprise they hate them on planes, too.

The most cogent remark about the situation is from a commenter who puts it thusly:

"You don’t realize how peaceful flight travel is, even when someone else is screaming, until you fly half a dozen flights with your own kids."

It reminded me of a funny encounter I had on our last flight with the munchkin. I sat down in an aisle seat next to a business traveler, Nolan in my lap, while Brandon installed the carseat in the seat next to his. The man looked at me with such a pained expression on his face, and I said "Don't worry, the kid is going over there." He said, "Oh, good. I mean, I have nothing against kids, but I've had a very long day." I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Yeah. You and me both." Which totally shut him up.

Because let's face it--it's always easier to have to listen to a crying, upset, unhappy child than it is to be the parent that has to deal with that child. I don't care where--grocery store, bus, mall, park, wherever. You were a teething child once too, so pay your Mom back for having to deal with your infant bullshit and try not to hate too much. That is all.

Saving Calories and Money

Margie and I were talking about cheap wine today. Trying to be calorie conscious, we are both cutting back on the alcohol. . .which for me means 1 glass per day, and for M considerably less [comment was made that she and I drink the same amount when I am pregnant. ahem.]

So you need to buy cheap when you are drinking less, because you don't want to waste an expensive bottle by having only 1 glass of it. I can usually stretch the bottle two days by using the storage vacuum pump, but after that the wine's toast.

Which leads me to my latest finds:

Bandit Pinot Grigio from Three Thieves: Yes, it's technically in a box. Get over it. This is NOT FRANZIA! Bandit comes in this awesome, 1L portable cardboard carton, like a big juice box, and it keeps forever in the fridge. So you can have 1 glass/day and it will last the whole week. It's really good and it's only $6.99.

Hey Mambo Sultry Red from Don Sebastiani and Sons. This wine is so so good, and it is ten bucks a bottle. It's just delicious. I got a whole case at Andronico's awhile back.

Also by this group, but slightly more expensive (I think $12.99 at Faletti's) is the Plungerhead Zin [I had the Lodi vintage. Yes, you read that right]. Awesome buy for the price.

Now go and enjoy your wine according to FDA guidelines. Post suggestions if you have them!

It's Great to be Alive. . .in Colma!

Forum has an awesome program about Colma this morning. I was especially pleased to hear it referred to as the only necropolis in the United States. Rad.

Also, one consequence of a 1000:1 dead to living resident ratio, a huge budget and lots of great services for the citizens of Colma--including summer camp, after school care, and tickets to Giants and 49ers games.

Corn Salad

From Martha: Sauteed Corn with Bacon and Scallions. Just in time for the summer corn rush.

Really good--nothing like a little grease to bulk up your 5 a day veg requirement.

Hangin Old!

OMFG y'all. New Kids on the Block (NKOTB for those of us who had Bop Magazine pictures of Joey McIntyre hanging on our walls in middle school) has a NEW ALBUM. Molly pointed this out to me last week. We watched their video, "Summertime," about 6 times in a row until we could finally stop laughing. I highly recommend watching. It's like the big budget follow up to Dick in a Box.

I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out

Hey--that could be you!!

NCWHL is hosting Give Hockey a Try Day, an annual event where players donate the use of their gear for a game so other women can try out the sport. We have coaching, skating lessons, and a scrimmage.

And, obviously kidding about the fighting. We are an all women, no check recreational league. Instead we fight about what the logo should look like, who gets to be on what team, and who takes the best notes at the board meetings.

See you on the ice, girls!

Running Sucks Less

I got a lot of reactions to that last post to the effect of . . .quit whining. Totally on point. I think was in a lot of pain and kind of frustrated when I posted.

It turns out that I had a sprained/turned/busted ankle, which was causing said pain when I ran. I took a week off, let it heal, and then got back into the grind. It's getting better now--I am doing a 12 minute mile and I can go for 30 minutes, or 2.5 miles, at a stretch. I think managing expectations is key here--giving yourself 5 minute or quarter-mile goals.

Last week I got some advice from my friend Heidi, who runs. She told me that I won't understand the point of running until I get the high. She also told me that it's about distance, not speed. Unless, of course, you're a competitive lawyer, and then obviously its about both. Right. I wouldn't know a thing about that, as I sit here typing up a post about my progress so you all won't think I'm a total loser.

Running Sucks

I have been on a mission to get back into shape for hockey, and the evil masochist in me said "start running again--it's the fastest way to get lung capacity back up." What the little leather-clad angel forgot to mention, however, was "it's also the fastest route to feeling like someone has taken a drill to your heels and a sledgehammer to your ankles and knees." I feel like someone has driven strategically placed nails into my feet.

I have been running (actually, let's be honest here--walking and jogging) for 2 weeks now. It is hell. Now I remember why I HATED THIS SHIT in gym class--which, of course, was 20 years ago when my bones weren't made of dust and my muscles weren't completely atrophied.

Today I looked like a complete geriatric on Stevens Creek Trail. I could only lift my feet about 1/2 an inch off the ground, and that was possibly only by shaking my ass like I was in a Sir Mixalot video [oh.my.god. becky. look at how crippled she is]. My age loomed ominously before me as I realized that my lungs had outpaced my legs.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but running actually hurts worse than hockey. Hockey, which produced bruises that led my sister to comment that I looked like a battered wife. Possibly the cure is worse than the ailment, here?

Nolan's Inaugrual Flight, and Why Does Mommy Dress Like a Whore?

Last week we took Nolan on his first plane trip, to San Diego. I wanted a practice run for the longer flight to Chicago in June.

Here's what I learned:

1. TSA is an even more of a giant pain in the ass with a baby. Now I understand why Midway has separated the lines out for "novice" travelers. Otherwise known as the people I hated before I had a munchkin with 14 pieces of luggage to drag through the airport. We are totally green circle people now.

2. Your 6 month old is a suspect, too. I thought things were going well, we took a friend's "divide and conquer" approach to security--Blong handled the luggage and I took the baby--everything was dissasembled, on the belt, ready to go. My big ommission--I didn't take the baby's hoodie off. Yes, I know the fucking rule: jackets (and sweatshirts) have to come off before going through the metal detector. Really, honestly--I did not think it applied to tiny babies. Just to show you the extent of naivete I am functioning under when it comes to the executive branch's enforcement powers.

I was about to step through when the agent said to me "You need to take the baby's jacket off." Stupidly, I said to her, "Are you serious?" Which leads me to my next lesson:

3. Apparently, I dress like a slut when I travel. Aforementioned federal employee fired back at me, "YES. And the only reason I am not making you take yours off is because what you have on there is so skimpy." [For the record, it was a black v-neck t-shirt, ok, it's not like I remembered to take my clear plastic heels off but didn't want to expose the pleather halter with the keyhole cut-out to the world.]
At this point, all of my professional traveler friends are rolling their eyes and thinking, "no shit, this is why security lines are so long," and they are right. This, more than anything else, is why I am joining the green circle club--baby has addled my brain and affected my ability to multi-task. I have baby ADD. I was so worried about the pacifier attached to the car seat getting covered in filth on the conveyer belt that I didn't think to remove my jacket.

By the way, this is not a new phenomena. In my pre-child days, I got tossed out of St. Peter's Basilica for wearing this:

According to the 400 year old asshole working as a docent there, I was exposing too much skin. For the twelfth century, which is I believe where the Catholic Church is currently operating.

Despite all of this, Nolan was good (asleep) on the plane, and we had a fun and uneventful trip. I now have some confidence to go forward with Chicago. This time, I will dress my kid like a whore, in a super tight little onesie, and we will sail through the line (green circle, of course).

Um

Kel and Al took this photo for me in Omaha, Nebraska. I'm to write a funny blog about it, but man, what else can I say? This shit speaks for itself. Go Nebraska!

Represent!

Who's Your Nabby?

A scrappy hottie from Chino, you say? SI has a hilarious, and oddly accurate, photo montage comparing NHL stars with their lookalike Hollywood Stars.

I was just as happy to see Nabby compared to Ryan from the OC as I was to see the Flames' captain Jarome Igninla compared to Mike Tyson. In Mike's defense, he still has his real teeth.

And, hai, Marco Sturm and Adam Sandler! Awesome. But Big Joe and Rhys Ifans? What the fuck is a Rhys Ifans? Dude, we do not compare hockey players to British actors. Note I am resisting another teeth joke. I hate to be redundant.

In case you don't follow hockey [hmmm, Trimbo?], you should know that the Sharks finally closed the deal in Game 7 of the Western Conference Semi-Finals last night. Get ready, Dallas. With the dude from Napolean Dynamite on as center, you're sure to give it up in 4.

Source: Sports Illustrated via Defamer.

Where the Sidewalk Ends

Starbucks finally opened up in Crescent City, where Meg lives. Seems like maybe the last place on earth to get an SBUX? Well, now you know why.

How to Stop the Examiner

Finally! Contact information to stop the Examiner from trespassing on your property with their unread crap landfill fodder:

866-733-7323
circulation@examiner.com

The only good thing about having these goddamn papers cluttering up the sidewalks is that you can use them for emergency dog shit receptacles. I'll just have to carry more blue plastic bags now (thanks, Supes).

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Moooovin. . . onto the Interweb

I know everyone hates those Star 101 billboards, but my best friend Julie Gahan is guest-starring on the waayyyy better 99.7 website.

You know 99.7--they play the shit we used to dance to at our Burlingame bars back in the day (by which I mean the 90's). Well, Julie is living proof that people do win radio contests, and get free food and DJ meet and greets. Yay Julie!

MY KID WON'T BEHAVE LIKE THAT (another lie I tell myself)

I am terrified that I am going to raise a monster child. Despite the fact that I was not a bad kid, neither was my husband, neither were our siblings. . .I see them all around me and I can't help but think it could be inevitable in this modern era. Maybe it's in the water, like ADD and autism. Perhaps brattiness is linked to vaccinations or plastic leaching into water bottles. Maybe Nolan's age group will be known as "Generation B."

Yesterday I was at McDonald's for lunch (in my defense, I had a hangover). Now, this is the McDonald's on Haight and Stanyan, which is usually populated by equal parts tourists and drug addicts. Yesterday, though, it was weirdly full of local old people. One of them had a little gaggle of grandchildren with her. They were seated at the table next to me. They were noisy and running around, but whatevs--they're kids, it's fine.

Well, it's fine up to a point. For me, that would be when the oldest, AIDAN AIDAN AIDAN, who appeared to be about 7, started climbing up on the chair at my table. And yelling. And climbing. And thrashing around like a little epileptic. Grandma was trying to corral this kid by telling him AIDAN AIDAN AIDAN NO AIDAN but I guess AIDAN AIDAN had trouble hearing her over the sound of his little shoes kicking my table. So, being hungover, I turned and gave him the hairy eyeball. To no one's surpise, AIDAN AIDAN AIDAN gave it right back.

Poor Grandma was trying to get the kids out of the restaurant. AIDAN AIDAN's two siblings were just as terrifying. . .a boy and girl, with big bro dangling a toy that little sis was trying to catch with her mouth. On the floor. Of the McDs. Where all the drug addicts hang out.

If God is reading this blog, he is no doubt poised to aim a thunderbolt of hyperactivity at my kid, turning NOLAN NOLAN NOLAN into a spastic short bus paste-eater because of Mommy's bad taste in blogging shit about other children. This is, after all, the kid who pulled a fistful of his own hair and made himself cry. But I'm sure other parents have this fear, right? Or is everyone else just more self-assured about their ability to instill good behavior and moral character in their kids? Or maybe they just beat their kids. [Clong: KIDDING! Don't call CPS on me].

Nolan's Internet Debut

Nolan had his first blog mention today on HugPug (we can't count bragging parent blogs). Not bad for a 10-week old. We predict plenty of internet fame for the child of a web producer and a software engineer. Check it out for cute pictures of his new best friends, the Justia Pugs.

Log Cabin Fresh!

People keep telling me to turn this into a Mommy Blog. Dude, I hate Mommy Blogs. Even though I've never read one. But I'm not above sharing the f'ed up parts of parenting so you can laugh at my misery. Isn't that what blogging is all about, after all??

Let's start with a little something in the TMI category: Fenugreek. I have started taking this herbal supplement to increase breast milk production. That's right--Old Bessie needs to step up her game to keep up with the small hungry monster. (Seriously, this kid is off the charts with the eating. The doctor tells me he is trying to "catch up" since he was born small. Hey doc, isn't there an obesity epidemic in this country?? Anyway.)

While it appears to be working (MOOOOOO), it is not without side effects. The big one being. . .it makes me smell like maple syrup. Yah. Maple SYRUP. Revolting. I guess it is better than the other possibility--"a faint curry smell"--mentioned by one website. GAG!

The Towel Guy, Stars @ Sharks 1/17/08

My dad is an NHL off-ice official for the San Jose Sharks. This week he got to be what we call the Towel Guy (you can DOOO IT! No, wait-- that's the WaterBoy) and manage the Dallas Stars' Penalty Box. Here's a clip of him letting Trevor Daley out after a 17 minute major for fighting (homeboy was in there for a while). You can see him counting down the time before he opens the gate. Sez the Towel Guy, they do that for the linesman so that they know when a player is coming back on the ice.

Go Dad!!

Baby Straitjacket

Preparing for a baby, there are a couple of mantras that the so-called experts hit you over the head with: breastfeeding is better, put the baby to sleep on its back, and swaddle, swaddle, swaddle! You'll hear these rules before you even give birth. You'll hear them multiple times. You'll have them memorized.

Well, we followed the first two, but when it came to swaddling, it just seemed to piss Nolan off even more that he could not move freely. He would fight the swaddle so hard that we would hear him grunting from the effort in his crib. And, he would almost always win.

First, we tried a regular baby blanket. No match for the little 5 lb monster, he plowed right through it. We'd wake up to find him kicking around on a flat blanket. Then we tried two blankets. Same result, though it took him longer. I started to freak out that I was creating a SIDS risk with all these blankets. (Rule number 4: nothing in the crib but the baby! Acck!)

Next, we bumped up the protocol to the Kiddopatomus. These are little envelope shaped blankets with velcro on them. You put baby's legs in the pocket, then velcro the rest of the blanket around him. Velcro! Surely 6 lb child is no match for velcro! WRONG! We found him with arms sticking out, legs sticking out, and sometimes with the whole thing unwrapped. One very scary morning I found him wriggled all the way INTO the blanket, with his whole head stuck in it. (Hello, SIDS?! Acck!)

So I stopped swaddling him. He seemed happier, but he was still waking up every 2-3 hours, which is torture between 12 and 7 am. Also, putting him down for naps was getting more and more difficult. So, out of desperation for sleep, I brought out the big gun: the Miracle Blanket. I doubted its power, but my friends swear by it. This thing is actually a cute, itty bitty, baby pastel colored straitjacket. You put baby's legs in the envelope, then wrap these little flaps (let's call them what they are--soft restraints) over his arms, and then the rest of the blanket wraps all the way around, twice. My small Houdini is no match for this powerful weapon, and you know what? He falls asleep, within minutes! And goes for his full nap!

Snug.as.a.bug.in.a.rug.

Lawyers and Doctors--the new Accountants and Dentists? And why is that bad, exactly?

The NYT reports on the decline in cachet for the "older professions" [Clong: I had to read that twice, my mind went immediately to the world's oldEST profession, not that lawyers aren't routinely compared to whores]. Lawyers and doctors are complaining, it seems, that nobody respects them anymore. Applications to the professional schools are down. This, of course, would have been helpful to me a few years ago.

It seems the gist of the doc's complaints is that they are treated just like every other worker, and that there is a general disregard for their uber-degree. One poor doctor had to fill out a req for his patient's wheelchair--how demeaning! And then there's the pediatrician who takes it as a "personal attack" whenever people complain about the medical industry (presumbaly HMO's) at cocktail parties. Well. Welcome to the party. He should have to sit through lawyer jokes at every social function. Or perhaps he would like to meet one acquaintance of mine, who routinely asks me--"How's the LIARing going?"