Pensive Frog

For the second time this week, I’m wishing I were handier with a sewing machine. First, I saw this lovely blanket over at Sweet Juniper. What a lovely thing, to make a quilt out of baby clothes. It seems so wasteful, to cut and sew baby clothes into a quilt rather than pass them on to a sibling or another family, but then I think of all the memories I have attached to that sweet little dress the tadpole wore to her first grown-up dinner party, or the little pink squirrel onesie I bought months before I got pregnant. So maybe I’ll make a quilt, with a little help from my friends.

Then, I’ve been scouring the web for a christening gown for the little one, and whoa Nelly are there some ugly gowns out there. But then there are some wonderful, thoughtful sewers making beautiful gowns, like Embroidered Heirlooms, Katland, and Dana’s Unique Christening Gowns. Dana is actually having a christening gown giveaway, which is quite nice and would solve all my sewing angst problems. For this week, anyway.

I’ve had a subscription to Bon Appetit magazine for at least a decade, and I’ve been cooking recipes from the venerable old girl since my early teens. But I can’t stay silent any longer. Bon Appetit irritates the hell out of me.

That’s right, I said hell.

This poor old magazine got a makeover a year or so ago, which to my eye consisted of hiring a police photographer to do the food photography, and strangleworthy content editors.

This month, there’s an article on hosting cocktail parties. An achingly hip Brooklyn couple shares their secrets for the perfect party:

“‘When we host a party, we make everything ourselves, from the invitations to the absinthe, and encourage guests to dress for the occasion,’ says Kate. ‘Our love of old-world extravagance and well-crafted cocktails transforms our parties from get-togethers to grand events.’”

Can’t you just imagine Kate churning up a fresh batch of absinthe in the kitchen, pausing only to daub some ink on her vintage letterpress contraption? And her husband, Cory, has the stupidest handlebar moustache I’ve ever seen.

Yes, I am being a little harsh. But there are so many ridiculous things in this issue. Like a recipe for conch fritters. Or a Christmas caipirinha with fresh mint (fresh mint? In December? I guess it gets shipped up from Chile, giant carbon footprint swaying in the breeze). Their “foodist” suggests bringing a host gift of chicken liver pate instead of a bottle of wine. He even goes so far as to suggest that you secretly stash the pate in the host’s fridge, so they can discover it the next day and exclaim, “what the hell is this grey paste next to the ketchup?” All the food photography is just awful, harshly-lit birds-eye views of unfathomable food. Unnatural, unappetizing. And please, stop photographing models from the chin down. I feel like I’m reading a Fiona Apple video.

OK, I realize none of you are here to read my Bon Appetit rant. So here’s the good news. The recipe for Aunt Bill’s candy on page 96 (by Molly of Orangette) looks really yummy, and I bet I’ll be making a batch before the holidays are over. But the rest of the mag can bite me.

Just the other day I was lamenting the fact that it’s been ages since I won anything online. In my glorious past, I’ve won a cashmere scarf, a TiVo, a roundtrip ticket to London (which I didn’t take because the taxes were horrendous), sock yarn (twice!), and a Chibi. Then, a dry spell. A looooong dry spell. Until yesterday! I won a photo caption contest at Thingamababy and I’m getting a cool baby CD. w00t! I really hope the tadpole likes Medeski Martin & Wood. I already know she likes Johnny Cash and hates Neil Diamond, but her opinions on more current music continue to elude me. Thanks, Thingamababy!

For several years, I had season tickets to the Seattle Opera. The great thing about seeing lots of opera is that you’re free to be honest about it. If you just see one opera every few years (or just one in your life), there’s pressure to really get something out of it. But when you’re trotting to four or five operas a year, there’s a certain freedom to critique, as if seeing lots of operas makes you an expert. I’ve seen Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen in its entirety over the course of one week. I’ve loved Die Fledermaus and hated Mourning Becomes Electra.

After each opera finished, we kept a tradition of going to late-night happy hour at McMenamin’s pub. Pit musicians were often seated at adjoining tables. One night, on the way to the pub, a downtrodden fellow asked if we wanted to buy some “kick-ass champagne” for $20. Maybe, if the bottle hadn’t clearly been re-corked.

Almost every time we went to the opera, we enjoyed a little free tuba music on the steps of the opera house. Before and after the performances, and during intermission, the same guy sat on a stool playing his tuba. Sometimes he’d play When the Saints go Marching In, sometimes he’d play motifs from that night’s production. Always in a silly hat, always accepting tips. I always noticed him, always wondered why he spent so much time playing the tuba at the opera house. I wondered if he ever went in to catch a performance. It’s hopelessly cheesy to say so, but he always made me smile.

We stopped renewing our season tickets a few years ago, and I forgot about the tuba guy until today, when I read that he died last week, after being beaten and robbed at a bus stop near the opera house. It’s awful to read such sad news on an otherwise happy day. I’m feeling infused with optimism, and it’s a little shocking to remember that bad things still happen for no reason at all.

Ooo everyone is all abuzz with Obama fever! Last night, I watched Obama give his victory speech on TV, while spooning rice cereal into the Tadpole’s mouth. I’m so glad for the outcome of this election, not just because I believe Obama will actually change things for the better, but because a majority of Americans just demonstrated that they are willing to sacrifice for the betterment of their country. This sacrifice may come in the form of higher taxes, or more expensive gas, but we’re all willing to accept those burdens in exchange for helping our neighbors, bettering our society, and rescuing our environment from literal destruction. You can’t get something for nothing, and I think we all just showed that we’re ready to give. So yay for us! We rock, and we just elected a rockin’ president!

Even in this Internet age, I felt compelled to get a newspaper commemorating this election. Which brings me to a question for you all - I’m starting a first-year time capsule for the wee one, to be sealed on her first birthday and opened on her twenty-first. This Obama newspaper is going in the capsule (which will probably be a box, stored on a closet shelf), but I need some great ideas for other additions. Here’s what I’m thinking so far:

Items to show what daily life was like:
Grocery lists
Grocery receipt
Grocery store circular
Bus pass
Celebrity magazine
Cooking magazine
Takeout menus

Sentimental items (informational):
Letters from mom and dad
Letters from other family members
Printouts of e-mails discussing tadpole

Other sentimental items:
Duplicate of a favorite toy
Birth plan

Year-specific items
2008 coins
2008 stamps

Things that may not exist or be used in 21 years
Newspaper
Plastic utensils
Old cellphone

So this is where I need help - what things will be defunct/extinct/quaintly funny in twenty years? Some time capsule websites suggest including recordings of songs or television shows popular at the time, but I think we’ll be able to access those pretty easily in the future. But ephemeral things like grocery receipts are pretty much gone forever.

If you guiltily watch South Park like I’ll do, you’ll get this post title.

So it’s election day! I voted absentee over the weekend, but I’m still giddy like it’s Christmas morning. Just what I wanted! A new president! Well, a gift certificate for a new president, redeemable in January. Some of the giddiness may be attributable to the cup of free coffee I snagged at Starbucks this morning. I think it had much more caffeine than my customary double Americano. Whizzzzz!!!

Even though it’s supposedly taboo to discuss politics at work, it’s pretty clear that most of my coworkers are riding the Obama train, myself included. Take this exchange from earlier this morning:

Coworker: Oh, Obama Obama love love love Obama Obama vote excitement!

Me: I had puppies for breakfast.

Of course I didn’t say that, but you’d think so given the reaction my actual statement got:

Me: Well, I’m pretty sure Obama’s going to win, but even if he doesn’t, McCain is a heckuva lot better than George Bush!

Seriously, can’t we agree on that, regardless of our political leanings? I feel sorry for McCain. I might have voted for him eight years ago. But weird things happen when you try to appeal to evangelicals, financial conservatives, moderates, and everyone in between. Weird things like Sarah Palin, and the “pro-abortionist” trainwreck. It also doesn’t help to be running against the coolest presidential candidate ever.

Oh, Obama Obama love love love Obama Obama vote excitement!

Found via Not Martha

How about this for the most unoriginal post topic ever:

Once you have a kid, everyone thinks it’s their job to keep you from screwing up childrearing.

I’ve found the best way to deal with this is to have science on my side.

This weekend, in the grocery checkout line, the woman waiting in line behind me commented on what an adorable baby I had (duh!) and lamented the fact that she had only one grandchild. I smiled sympathetically, who doesn’t want lotsa babies! Then she said that her daughter stopped with one child because she was only able to take enough time off of work to take care of one child, and she didn’t want her babies to be raised by (sneer) daycare (/sneer).

You know, sometimes you can accidentally insult someone. Like when you introduce yourself to a new knitting buddy and say “oh, don’t you HATE Red Heart yarn?” and they pull a big ol’ Red Heart Super Saver log out of their knitting bag and you’re like, whoops.

So I said, “Well, my baby goes to daycare and she loves it!” As such, I gave the nice lady a way to backpedal and not be all judgmental of a stranger. But she couldn’t take a hint.

“Oh, but it’s so much better if they don’t have to go the daycare.”

Ugh, is she really going to make me be the mean epidemiologist? I guess I have to…

“You know, it’s so interesting, they’ve actually found that children who go to daycare have a reduced risk of leukemia compared to kids who just stay at home, and kids in daycare do better on achievement tests when they’re older. Amazing, huh? There are pros and cons to all our choices!”

She looked really disturbed, and I felt kind of bad. The risk of leukemia is so small that daycare really isn’t going to make a difference for most babies. And parents who choose to care for their children at home can do a fantastic job of giving their babies all the stimulation they need to be the next Nobel Laureate. I would like nothing better than to win the lottery, buy a foreclosed megamansion and take care of the tadpole myself until the Rapture.

Unfortunately, I think making grandmas feel bad in the checkout line is sufficient grounds to be Left Below.

Gah, do I really look like I’m doing that bad of a job?

Over the past few weeks, I often sometimes find myself looking down at the tadpole and thinking, “what the heck is the world going to be like when she’s all grown up?”

Man, things have gotten messy in the world recently. I’m optimistic that things will get better, and I’m so curious and nervous about our upcoming presidential election. I’m totally planning to Barack the Vote, but whooee it’s going to be a close one. I just found this site via Strollerderby - Yes We Can (Hold Babies). Lots of great pictures of babies and Barack Obama, with lolcats-esque captions. Oh yeah, and there’s also a photo of McCain and a baby, which is just funny as heck.

A few months ago I would have written “funny as hell”, but this is a family blog now.

Damnit! Something I actually ate recently, White Rabbit Candy, has been recalled due to melamine contamination! Actually, I bought a bag of this last year because I remember it being so very tasty when I had it as a child. I was rather turned off by its plasticy taste and only ate a few pieces - I figured that my childlike tastebuds just had no taste. For those of you who are wondering why melamine ends up in so many foods, there’s a great Scientific American article here. As it turns out, melamine is a great protein mimic because it’s rich in nitrogen (as is protein). Some simple tests that measure protein levels are based on breaking the protein down, releasing the nitrogen, and measuring it to estimate the protein concentration. Melamine breaks down and releases nitrogen in much the same way, and is quite good at impersonating protein.

I hope melamine doesn’t get a bad name from this, I rather like these (harmless) melamine bowls.

Before I had a baby, it seemed like all the parents I knew only talked about the great parts of parenting. As if they were trying to reel me in, or something.

Oh, having kids is so much FUN!

Baby poos are really adorable, when you think of it.

And now that I’ve got my tadpole, the parents have switched tactics. I’ve joined the cult, and now reality sets in.

Yeah, you’ll never sleep again until she turns 18.

Your car will soon be full of Cheerios, too.

Well, the tadpole sleeps through the night like a champ, cloth diapers are a breeze, the wee one adores daycare, but the Cheerios thing has me terrified. We’ve thought about imposing a Cheerios ban, but then what about the goldfish crackers, marshmallows, and caviar? (Maybe I should read that “Feeding your baby” manual again)

There appears to be a solution, the Munchie Mug. It’s well-reviewed at Z recommends, so maybe we’ll give it a try. It’s like a one-way valve for dry munchies, which apparently keeps all messiness at bay. There doesn’t appear to be a solution for babies removing snacks from the mug and hurling them across the room, but I could always get one of these.

Check out these great instructions for a fabric party garland at the Purl Bee. So easy, I just might be able to do it!

And here’s a tip for buying clothes for babies - it may seem like a no-brainer. I was at the Hellmouth the other day buying long-sleeved onesies for the tadpole. She’s just turned 5 months old, but is already into 9 month sized clothes. I automatically picked out some 9-month onesies, then I thought, hey - let’s see if the 12-month size would be too big. I went back to the rack to check, and whaddayaknow - the 12 month size is barely larger than the 9-month. It will be a little loose on the babe for a month or so, then fit perfectly for a few months, then she’ll be busting out of it by Christmas. But it will last a lot longer than the 9-month size.

In a nutshell, my tip is to buy the biggest clothes that won’t totally dwarf your baby. I know, you’re all saying, well DUH!

I’ve also started knitting an adorable Debbie Bliss Baby Shrug for the wee one - w00t the pattern is available for free right here!

Google Ads mean well, but sometimes they really miss the mark.

Like just now, I’m looking up diagnosis codes for lip cancer. And at the bottom of the page, I get a text ad that promises I can “Find Out How to Get Full Lips, Naturally”.

Plump lips?

Yep, a tumor will do that for ya.

Given the hundreds of comments on the previous post, I know y’all were really excited to help me choose a Halloween costume for the Pensive Tadpole. Well, the contest ended because I decided to buy this adorable Yellow Caterpillar costume. So that’s that. Now I just need to find somewhere awesome to take my caterpillar on Halloween, so that she gets all the recognition she deserves.

Halloween is fast approaching, and I’m stumped on what my baby will be. Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to get the Internets to help me pick a costume? Get ready to vote!

I’ll add a new costume every day for a while (don’t make me commit to a timeframe, people!) and the one with the most votes might convince me to buy it! Unless it’s really expensive!

One more rule - I know there’s an obvious (and cute) costume that makes sense given my daughter’s name - but I’m keeping her incognito on the Internet, OK? OK. We’ll just steer clear of that.

Option 1: Stormtrooper from Starwars

This is cool because the Princess Leia costume is the more obvious choice. I’m all about subtlety. There’s also Chewbacca.

This just in - scientific evidence that the Flying Spaghetti Monster is real.

And dripping with marinara.

Hey, whaddaya know, I finally updated my links list. This is now a pretty good representation of what I’ve been reading lately. And, just so there’s a little content in this post, I have to share this link to an Onion article that made me cry with laughter this morning. Perhaps that’s why they call it the Onion?

Do you know what “nonplussed” means? Well, you probably don’t. I didn’t. Until I read this detailed explanation at the Language Log. Now I have to wonder about all the other words I’ve been using wrong. At least I have the less/fewer thing figured out. Most of the time.

OK, I’ve been away for a few months. So what?

I’ve been ready to come back to the blog for a while now, but as the time since my last post got longer, I was intimidated by the pressure of writing an “I’m baaaack!” post. It should be glitzy, or full of content and pictures - heaven knows the one thing a baby generates is gigapictures. I spent a few minutes over a few weeks plotting my comeback, only to realize that the fabulous re-entry post wasn’t going to happen. Pre-baby perfectionist me would have had a problem with that. Post-baby me just shrugs and rolls with it. So here we go.

Hiya, loyal readers! I’m posting again (or at least today). I had my sweet baby in April, and it’s been a wild, lovely ride. Things I’ve learned:

1. The 5-1-1 rule is bunk. All you moms out there know what I’m talking about. The birthing unit at the hospital doesn’t want to see your sweaty, pain-pinched face until your contractions have been 5 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute for at least an hour. I called the on-call OB when my contractions were 8 minutes apart, lasting 2-3 minutes, for God-knows-how-long. I was told to take Tylenol and wait until “real” labor started. Finally I said (yelled) “screw it!” and we went to the hospital. Guess who was 6 centimeters dilated?

2. I need a lot less sleep than I thought! I would have finished my dissertation in 3 years if I knew I could survive on 3-4 hours per day! Wait, does completing a dissertation require more brain power than remembering to remove underpants before entering the shower? Actually, that’s a good way to get a little laundry done at the same time.

3. My baby is the smartest because she can sleep ALL NIGHT LONG! Yessirree, she sleeps from 9 pm to 6 am (give or take) every night. I know by typing this I’m digging my own karma grave. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning at 2:30 am, and scream “sleeping is for nerds!” No, of course she doesn’t talk yet, but at 2:30 I would be hallucinating anyway.

4. Cloth diapers are totally doable. Although the experience of washing them is… um… horrible.

5. Daycare is a nightmare. In Seattle, there are a fair number of lovely, accredited childcare centers that would be happy to care for my little girl for the modest sum of over half my salary if I had had the foresight to join the waiting list two years ago for the low, low nonrefundable waiting list charge of $100. WTF? Two years ago, I might have joined the waiting list at the University, which is (get ready) over one thousand children long! I write this less to complain, and more to warn other Seattleites who may be reading and gestating as we speak. Or planning to gestate in two years.

6. Another memo I didn’t get - if you lift your baby “wrong”, you can get DeQuervain’s tendonitis, which sucks and can require physical therapy or surgery.

7. Nothing is cuddlier than a sleepy baby, and figuring out what is upsetting my girl and fixing it is a great way to feel like a superhero.

8. Sometimes babies are born bald. Sometimes babies are born with hair. And sometimes babies are born with a little ring of hair that makes them look like Friar Tuck.

9. And oh yeah, onesies are cute.

I hope I can continue to post at least every few days, I’ve been learning so much from the Internet that it seems dumb not to give a little back.

Wowza - I just learned this morning that Magknits has evaporated! I’ve already had a few requests for my Peekaboo Mittens pattern, which makes me happy! I just need a little time to put together a pdf of the Peekaboo Pattern, and I’ll upload it to Ravelry, or post it here, or some other solution that works for Peekaboo fans. If you’re smack in the middle of a mitten and suddenly without a pattern, leave a comment and I’ll hook you up with some text instructions ASAP. Thanks for your patience, and for making lots of Peekaboos!