dead baby jokes

closer

2010-07-09T08:38:00.010-04:00

You told me I didn't need to stop by, but I did anyway. I sat on your couch while you made dinner. Can I help? I asked What can I do?

In the kitchen, the radio said, A little bit of Monica in my life, A little bit of Erica by my side. You were singing along, in a big goofy voice.

There was a ballgame on tv and your team was ahead in the first and ahead in the sixth, but you punched the off button on the remote before we could watch them blow yet another lead.

They need a closer, you said.

When you walked me to my car, you opened the door for me and then you shut it. You tapped on the window and, when I rolled it down, you put your hand on top of mine. You said goodbye. You said take care. You probably even said see you later.

I put the car in gear.  The road was empty and, as far as I could see, every traffic light was green or turning to green. I didn't cry until I got all the way home.

                                                *     *     *

As you probably realize, goodbyes are not exactly my strong point. So I'm not going to say it and you don't need to say it either.

You know where to find me.

Or, to put it another way, exit, pursued by a bear.

focus

2010-07-06T09:24:00.000-04:00

And the lucky, lucky winners (chosen totally randomly) thanks to random.org are:

Erica (chocolate)

MFA Mama (coffee)

Email me at like.niobe.all.tears at gmail dot com with an address that I can send your loot to.

And, because we spent way too much time at the playground this weekend, here's yet another shot of Cole. And, yes, he does carry that little car just about everywhere.

long weekend

2010-07-05T16:28:00.001-04:00

fourth of july

2010-07-04T09:44:00.001-04:00

hit and run

2010-07-02T10:44:00.007-04:00

Although it's technically the first Friday of the month, given the long weekend here in the US (and, I suppose, in Canada as well), I'm going to postpone our regularly-scheduled snark-fest 'til next Friday. Try to bate your breath until then. Or, depending on your view of this sort of thing, you have been warned.

In other news, there's still time to enter the fun and educational giveaway. Just add your comment to the previous post, specifying whether you'd prefer inhaleable chocolate or coffee. A super-secret hint: since I'm doing the two drawings separately and since very, very few people have signed up for the coffee sweepstakes...well, you do the math.

And, finally, the lovely and talented Angie is featuring one of my photos today at Still Life 365, a very cool blog featuring creative works of various kinds focusing on the topic of loss. Check it out -- and consider submitting a work (poem, photo, craft object, painting, whatever) of your own.

sweet as chocolate, light as air

2010-07-01T09:43:00.002-04:00

Because I'm all generous and selfless and, most importantly, have finally managed to get my hands on the semi-new product that everyone seems to be talking about, I'm giving away (wait for it) Le Whif.

What is Le Whif? Well, the short version is that it's chocolate. That you snort.

Learn all the tasty, tasty details at lewhif.com. But, basically, it was invented by some biomedical engineer at Harvard and is supposed to give you a calorie-free choco-high that's legal in all 50 states (and likely numerous foreign countries as well). Plus there's a coffee version. And, yes, I'm giving away one of those too.

How does this giveaway work? Just follow (in order) the simple steps below:

Leave a comment to this post expressing your interest. It might read: Chocolate. Or perhaps Coffee. Or even: I just can't decide, so you choose for me, sweet, sweet Niobe.
Get chosen by the random number generator.
Receive Le Whif.
Inhale.

***comments closed ... stay tuned for winners***

Full disclosure: While I wish that Le Whif were subsidizing this post in some way, such is very much not the case.

truth in advertising

2010-06-30T09:08:00.001-04:00

I'm not all that good at actually, um, purchasing stuff that I want -- even stuff I really, really want.

Though we got rid of our old tv back in August 2009, we got a new one only a few weeks ago. And when I say "we," what I mean is that I, personally, had nothing to do with it.

Similarly, I still haven't managed to come up with a persuasive rationalization to replace my wildly outdated cell phone or to get a new camera to replace the one I broke before Ruby was born.

Anyone have a way of convincing myself that it's absolutely necessary that I acquire a smart phone? As in (fill in the blank): Niobe needs to shell out a hefty monthly fee for an expensive new toy even though she seldom remembers to charge her current phone because ______.

On the camera front, I've been fairly happily making do with a teeny tiny Canon Ixus 100IS.

The other day, I was using the macro feature to take photos of various things on my desk (make up, plastic snakes, mini dinosaurs, toy cars), when I noticed something that most of us living in this all-too-unfair world could probably use. See close-up below.

In case you can't make out the label, it reads: FAIR: to use: apply as needed

As, you know, if.

straightening

2010-06-23T13:26:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, Cole woke up (in his crib, because I'm still dithering on the tent concept) with pink, puffy eyes. Conjunctivitis, said the doctor. Which was no big deal, but meant no daycare.

I dropped Ruby off, managed to squeeze a little erythromycin between Cole's goop-encrusted lids and told Gray (who's home for a few days) that, since I was taking the day off, we could do whatever he wanted.

I think we can safely say that Gray is just about the only 18-year-old who would, unprompted, suggest that we reorganize the kitchen cabinets.

But he did and we did, moving boxes, jars and cans to the counter, tossing the stuff that had expired back in 1998, wiping down and repainting the shelves and putting everything back in a new, much more esthetically pleasing arrangement. Including, yes, alphabetized spices.

So you don't get the wrong idea, neither of us is particularly into cleaning and Gray's own room is usually almost as much of a wreck as my closet.

But the beautifully organized cabinets? They make me almost as happy as a clam at high tide. Which is about the best any of us can hope for.

eta: if you want to see far too many iterations of the photo above (plus a t.rex v. vw battle to the death!) check out my flickr photostream.

free range

2010-06-17T13:09:00.003-04:00

This morning, I put Cole in his room, in his crib. I handed him his favorite musical pink seahorse, which (among other things) plays a charming, if somewhat aquatic-sounding, rendition of Ode to Joy. I said, "Mama will be back soon" and I carefully shut the door.

I finished my shower about 15 minutes later. Cole had a brand-new bruise on his forehead and a rapidly-swelling bump under one eye. He had a truck under one arm and a dirty sock in his mouth. He spit the sock out, told me "bye bye," and, when that failed to get the desired response, tried "night night."

He wasn't in his crib. He wasn't even in his room.

Houston, we have a problem.

accidental hearts

2010-06-16T15:48:00.000-04:00

no chip

2010-06-14T13:52:00.004-04:00

I don't follow sports -- any sports -- not even a little.

Still, I couldn't help reading about the unfortunate Danish soccer player who, during one of the recent World Cup games, deflected the ball into his own team's goal, scoring a crucial point for the opposing team.

Which, in turn, made me think of that most infamous of all auto-goals, when, during 1994 World Cup play, Colombian soccer player Andrés Escobar knocked the ball into the wrong goal, resulting in the elimination of Colombia's team from the tournament.

And, ten days later, resulting also in the elimination of Escobar himself, executed outside a Medellín bar by a killer (presumably hired by drug lords who'd lost bets on the match) who shot Escobar 12 times, shouting "Goal!" as he fired each bullet.

In other words, things could be worse. Much, much worse.

What auto-goals (real or metaphorical) have you been scoring lately?

Or, to pose a somewhat less fraught question, do you follow sports? and if so, which ones?

kinda like a silver sixpence

2010-06-11T12:34:00.005-04:00

Not feeling real hopey changey today.

However (or maybe that should be: therefore) here's my submission for Calliope's Photo Friday.

The theme is shoes. The plastic snakes were entirely my own idea.

breaking even

2010-06-09T10:19:00.005-04:00

In the comments to the last post, someone said something to the effect that she felt sorry for Niobe because she (meaning Niobe, since I'm too lazy to rework the sentence to tidy up the pronouns) was so very, very sad.

My immediate and all-too-predictable reaction: introspection expressed through imaginary italics. Am I sad? Am I sad? Am I sad?

I suppose that if you can manage to put the chronic mild dysthymia to one side, I'm just about as happy as I've ever been. Maybe even happier than that. The dead baby thing? History. Ancient history.

Still, as anyone who's read this blog for any length of time knows, there's something, y'know, there. A long, long time ago, my wonderful, perfect best friend started dating my wonderful, perfect boyfriend. They got married and have a big house in the suburbs and a dog and a cat and two adorable children. I haven't seen or spoken with either of them in years.

Have I moved on? Of course I have. But sometimes I don't think I've moved on quite far enough. I was reading a letter sent to an advice column and it sounded awfully familiar. All the responses say the same thing: therapy, self-esteem, a life well lived. And while I'm nodding my head, a whiny little voice keeps saying that they just don't -- won't -- can't -- understand.

Put it this way: you also can't step out of the same river twice. Sometimes you can't even step out of it once.

I think about them every day. Sarah. Steve. Steve. Sarah. I don't want them back, but I can't seem to let them go.

feeding frenzy

2010-06-04T09:32:00.005-04:00

It's the moment you've all been waiting for: Niobe's (mostly) anonymous confessions!

Before we start, let's just stipulate that we all know that the right answer -- no matter what the question -- is always going to be something along the lines of You just need to do what's right for you and your family. Kumbaya. (((big group huuuug)))

But, really, what fun is that? Wouldn't it be so much more, um, educational to stir up lots o' drama and emotions and bad feelings? You know it would.

People emailed me with some great suggestions for a bunch of hot button topics. Let's start with the ever-popular: breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding.

Remember, you don't need to have ever actually fed a baby to participate. You just have to have a view (preferably a vehement one) about what everyone else should or shouldn't do. Or, really, anything even vaguely related to the debate.

Leave your confession below: how does this issue make you feel??

As always, if there are enough comments, I'll add a few of my own anonymous thoughts. Feel free to guess which ones they are.

eta: And one more thing. If you don't enjoy lots of snarky, judge-y remarks and random visits by the typo/grammar police, *do not* read the comments to this post. Just don't. You have been warned.

***comments closed*** -- save your snark for next time round.

spare change

2010-06-02T09:15:00.007-04:00

While it's not exactly an ecological disaster of cataclysmic proportions, we have our very own mini-spill going on. As in a self-destructing dishwasher gushing torrents of dirty water all over the kitchen and basement below.

Plus, in seemingly unrelated developments, our landline no longer works, the a/c has conked out and my cell phone's reception is spotty at best. Though I'll admit that that last is likely due to my having left it out in the rain overnight.

What minor, um, challenges are currently confronting you?

eta: And, before I forget, the first Friday of the month is quickly approaching, which means it's time to cross over to the dark side for yet another round of fun and educational and (of course) completely anonymous confessions.

Any suggestions for a theme? Bonus points if it's likely to generate venom, vituperation and general internecine strife. Check out last month's edition for inspiration.

asked and answered

2010-05-27T11:23:00.002-04:00

The other day, Live Emotionally was talking about refrains, those things you say to yourself when you don't know what to say. Hers were It could’ve been worse and I still have Lily.

There's a comfort in repetition and, said often enough, any phrase becomes both mantra and penance. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. Words without end. Amen.

When I'm reminded of what I've lost, I think: I'm better off without them.

When I wish I were dead, I tell myself: You will be. You will be.

What's your refrain?

bad trip

2010-05-25T09:25:00.001-04:00

This morning I got this email, seemingly from a friend of mine (spelling, punctuation and capitalization as in original).

from [xxxxxx]
date Mon, May 24, 2010 at 11:17 PM
subject Dilema!

How you doing? We made a trip to London (United Kingdom) unannounced some days back, Unfortunately we got mugged at gun point last night! All cash, Credit cards and phone were stolen, we got messed up in another country, stranded in London, fortunately passport was back in my hotel room. It was a bitter experience and i was hurt on my right hand, but would be fine. I am sending you this message cos i don't want anyone to panic, we want you to keep it that way for now!

I have been to the police and embassy here, but they aren't helping issues,I have limited means of getting out of here, we canceled our cards already and made a police report, I won’t get a new card number till I get back home! So I really need your help. I Need you to loan me $2,500 You could wire whatever you can spare to my name and Location via Western Union, below is all you need:

Receiver's Name -[xxxxx]

Location - 272, Coriander Avenue, Docklands, E14 2AA , London United Kingdom I still have my passport so I can use it as identification,email me the transfer details and the confirmation # would def refund it to you once we arrive hopefully tomorrow.

I guess this is a very common Facebook/gmail scam, though one I've never been the recipient of before. But it strikes me as just about the weakest attempt ever.

Wire $2,500? Like, what's in it for me? Couldn't they at least offer a 20% share of the proceeds from the under-the-table sale of South African diamonds inherited from an "honored and deeply Christain" aunt or a fee for allowing "over-invoiced funds" embezzled by goverment officials from the Central Bank of Nigeria to be laundered through my bank account?

Who's been scamming you?

righting

2010-05-20T10:10:00.002-04:00

It was more a mistake than a milestone, but, the other day, Ruby rolled over for the very first time.

She was next to the coffee table, tummy to floor, when her forearms unfolded, her back arced and the weight of her head toppled her with the force of an undertow. She stared at the ceiling. She started to cry.

Nothing was certain, but this much was clear: something had gone wrong, someone had blundered. Somewhere above her, the lights glared and dazzled. Nothing would ever be the same again.

natural history

2010-05-18T13:06:00.001-04:00

I realize that just about the least interesting thing to read about is how tired someone else is. But, honestly? I'm tired. Very, very tired.

So tired, in fact, that when I try to read, the words spontaneously generate their own anagrams, like barnacle geese, born of driftwood, or crocodiles spawned from the mud of the Nile

And how (or how many hours) did you sleep?

and so on

2010-05-14T09:19:00.003-04:00

Fascinating discussion going on in the comments to that last post. Kind of a SAHM v. WOHM inferno cage match to the death!

I've closed comments, but, due to popular demand,* I'm thinking we'll have another round on a different topic next month. Stay tuned.

*yes, I realize that there's probably a certain amount of popular demand going the other way. But what's that saying about ~~fooling~~ pleasing all of the people all of the time?

first friday

2010-05-07T11:13:00.004-04:00

photo is for Calliope's Photo Friday whose desk theme conveniently matches the theme of this post.

I know, I know I said I was going to give up my first Friday confession thing. But I kind of miss it, plus I have my own confession ready to go right up front.

I'm going back to work on Monday. And (here's the confession part) I'm really, really happy about it. My job has the usual quotient of annoying stuff and people connected with it, but mostly it's fun and challenging and makes me feel that, in my own way, I'm saving a tiny little corner of the world.

And it's not that staying at home is actually unpleasant -- it's more that I don't see it as the best thing for anyone involved. I have certain strengths as a parent, including a reasonably large vocabulary, an even temper and a preternatural tolerance for repetition.

But, more to the point, there are a number of lacunae in my skill set, the most gaping of which is my pathologically shy and (let's face it) antisocial nature. If I want my kids to be able to deal with other people, well, let's just say, that's not something that they're likely to learn from me.

So, in summation: TGI(almost)M

Add your confessions (anonymously, unless you don't feel like it) in the comments. For example, tell us why you love/hate working/staying home and why everyone who doesn't feel exactly the same way is, at best, sadly misguided.

If there are enough confessions, I'll add a few more of my own. See if you can guess which ones they are.

tag: yet another of niobe's deep, deep thoughts

2010-05-04T15:34:00.002-04:00

No matter how many cooks you have, it's pretty hard to spoil broth.

Generate your very own profound insight with (what else?) one of these profound insight generators.

Share your newly-acquired wisdom in the comments, if you're so inclined.

eta: Clicking on either "one of these" or "generators" will bring you to one of two (similar, but subtly different) random insight generators. If you don't like the insight you get from one, try the other.

iced venti nonfat latte

2010-04-30T10:43:00.003-04:00

Just remember: caffeine is a drug. And, like all drugs* ~~can be a lot of fun~~ should be consumed only in moderation.

Is Niobe been hitting the latte a little too hard this morning? Let's look at the evidence, namely, a few of her recent tweets.

And, moving right along, what's your favorite drink? Check out Calliope's Photo Friday for lots of pretty beverage (and cooking) pictures. Then go ahead and add your own.

*NB:I am, of course, referring exclusively to those drugs legal in all 50 states. Don't look at me like that.

spellbound

2010-04-29T15:45:00.007-04:00

So, I'm posting these pictures of my two boys and what I'm thinking is mainly how impossibly lucky I've been. Yes, I've been unlucky too and there are lots of reasons that you would absolutely not want to trade your life for mine, but the last two years I've gone through two successful surrogacies, resulting in two perfect babies (a boy and a girl) and let's not forget the extra kid I already had.

Someone recently asked me how come I'm no longer cursed and while I don't have an answer, it's the kind of thing I wonder about when I have nothing better to do. In other words, far too often.

Which brings me to the ostensible point of this post, namely that the other day, a, um, friend of mine was googling curses and she found this nifty site enables you to send a free voodoo curse by email to the victim(s) of your choice (providing, of course, that you know his/her/their email addresses).

The recipient will get a personalized picture of a creepy voodoo doll with a creepy voodoo message. Plus the site has bonus features like tracking so you can see if the voodoo curse message has been opened and a selection of (definitely not family-friendly) victim feedback.

While I don't think I'd want to really and truly curse anyone, I have to admit the idea is intriguing. Considerations of karma and such aside, theoretically, is there a person or group of people you'd kinda sorta like something bad (but maybe not too bad) to happen to? Answer anonymously if you'd like.

good intentions

2010-04-27T14:38:00.003-04:00

I'm an idiot for many reasons, not least of which is that I really, really thought I'd already posted this or at least a reasonable facsimile* thereof

First, because narrative clarity isn't my forte, I was planning to link to Ruby's birth story.

Second, I keep meaning to participate (And you should too! Participate, that is. Not mean to.) in Calliope's Photo Fridays, a weekly event where Calliope provides a prompt and you provide a photo.

For example, the picture above was supposed to be my representation of the Cooking Oil theme from a few weeks back. Though the actual theme was Cooking Oil and Electric Light Source, and it only now occurs to me that I'm not entirely sure whether it was a pick-one-from-column-A kind of thing or if photos of both are required. Obviously, if it's the latter, well, that's just another reason I'm an idiot.

*Also, because I'm always happy to provide unsolicited insight into the way Niobe's mind works, the word "facsimile" irresistibly reminds me of a sentence from some otherwise-forgotten 19th or early 20th work describing two sofas (or chaises or some kind of furniture) that facsimiled one another, meaning that they were exact duplicates. A usage that struck me as whatever the opposite of an anachronism is, something that seems temporally out of place, but actually isn't.

Like, for example, the all-too-modern (to my eyes, anyway) umbrellas in Caillebotte's famous Impressionist painting, Rainy Day. Which, incidentally, you can purchase in reproduction, printed on an actual umbrella. If you're so inclined.

one, two

2010-04-22T21:00:00.007-04:00

I realize this is not exactly what Diana (link added) ~~(who didn't leave a link to her profile)~~ and Furrow had in mind when they requested a picture of Cole and Ruby together. But it's about the best I can do at the moment, because if my hands and attention are occupied with a camera, they are, necessarily, not occupied with preventing Cole from expressing his over-enthusiastic affection for his little sister.

The best I've been able to do is this photo which, though not the most awesome shot ever, nicely illustrates the problem. While Cole has managed to climb into Ruby's moses basket, he is not (I promise) sitting on top of Ruby's feet. However, I admit that his demonic grin is entirely due to the fact that he has, at long last, managed to swipe her bottle.

Note: My camera still isn't working, so I've been using this cute little Canon Ixus 100 IS that (I think) Gray picked up in Europe. I like it, but I yearn desperately for a camera of my own.

portents of the apocalypse

2010-04-18T19:40:00.002-04:00

A ravening ash cloud spawned by a subglacial volcano! An eerie ball of fire in the midwestern skies!

And, for about half an hour yesterday, Cole and Ruby asleep at the same time!

Obviously, I haven't quite got this one toddler + one infant thing completely figured out yet. But I'm working on it.

the winner is...

2010-04-13T19:58:00.001-04:00

Ruby!

Thanks so, so much for your votes and your good wishes. I can't begin to tell you how much they mean to me.

day for night

2010-04-11T14:38:00.004-04:00

My camera's at least temporarily on the blink, as is the baby's ability to distinguish day from night. My capacity for coherent thought isn't doing much better (see, e.g., the hour-plus it's taken me to type out these sentences and my epic fail of an attempt to add a poll).

For the moment, we're slightly stranded in a perfectly nice hotel just off the highway and halfway to sleep, surrounded by what sounds suspiciously like the buzzing of innumerable bees, but is, in fact, the a/c.

Luckily, Kym lent me her camera, so at least there's the photo above. And, since I can't seem to focus, literally or, y'know, figuratively on the pressing issue of the baby's blog pseudonym, please vote in what I'm very much hoping is the poll below.

Or add your suggestions for a name -- or for just about anything else -- in the comments. I promise to thank you all, individually, collectively and sincerely, just as soon as I've managed to get a little . . . more . . . sleep.

eta: poll is now closed

at last

2010-04-06T19:19:00.000-04:00

She's here! Everyone is doing very well and all of us are sleepy and at least one of us is crying.

details and pictures to follow...

minus seven one

2010-04-05T23:44:00.003-04:00

I had this post all mapped out in my head. About how there were just seven days to go before (fingers crossed) the new baby arrived. About how I simply could not wrap my mind around this (admittedly none-too-difficult) concept.

Try to imagine the whole thing leavened with rapier-like wit, flashes of blinding insight and faint, yet earnest, attempts to transcend the solipsism that is my natural element. To, y'know, mix a whole bunch of metaphors.

However. As it turns out, I've spent most of the day on planes or waiting for planes. And Trish is going to be induced first thing tomorrow morning. I'll keep you posted.

Meanwhile, look! Once again, the license plate auguries are speaking to me. As can be seen in the picture below, spotted on the cab ride on the way to the airport.

Minus one, indeed. And counting down.

eta: And a bonus special message from the bumper sticker gods! Check out the back window of the white van. (click on the picture and choose the all sizes icon) And don't blame me. I only took a picture of it. Well, and posted it on the internet. And drew your attention to it. Okay, I guess you can blame me.

prop

2010-04-04T09:23:00.003-04:00

Finally, it was an actual nice (almost too nice, even) day, so I let Cole run around outside while I took pictures.

And, yes, in every single one of them he's clutching that bright green straw that we swiped from Starbucks when I got my iced latte. At least it's kind of photogenic.

april fishing

2010-04-01T10:07:00.010-04:00

So, I open my browser to find that all the vowels have vanished from gmail and that Google has changed its name to Topeka.
eta: And Starbucks is offering two new sizes the itty-bitty micra and (for the true caffeine junkies among us), the 128-oz plenta!

Which leads me to the probably totally unnecessary suggestion that, for today, you take everything you find on the internets with an even larger grain of salt than usual. If you're in a Francophone country, watch your back. Literally. Or you might find an April Fish taped to it.

What's the best April 1 prank that you've ever been the victim (or perpetrator) of?

(Picture is a public domain image of French greeting card, found via Wikipedia)

and another thing

2010-03-30T09:16:00.014-04:00

You know that I love each and every one of you. But I have to admit that I have a very special place in my heart for the thoughtful, generous, but, alas, anonymous person who sent me the set of ten plague finger puppets.*

You're one of the few people who truly understands me. Make of that what you will.

Anyway, in the spirit of "let all who are hungry, come and eat," next Passover (April 18, 2011, in case you're wondering) you're all invited to my place for the first seder. See you then!

*eta: And, because I'm sure it's not exactly clear, this is a *second* set of finger puppets, which my anonymous benefactor must have ordered even before I posted about the set I'd bought for myself. Two minds with but a single thought...

ten

2010-03-29T10:06:00.006-04:00

Tonight is the first night of Passover and, thanks to the helpful links supplied by Which Box, my seder will be truly complete, featuring ten nightmare-inducing finger puppets depicting the ten plagues visited upon the Egyptians (which, in case you've misplaced a plague or two, were: blood, frogs, lice, wild animals*, pestilence, boils, hail, locusts, darkness and the death of the firstborn)

You can see a picture of all ten of the creepy little puppets here. Hail is incongruously cheery and the Lion (the token wild animal) is actually kind of cute. Darkness is a frowny-faced house, a marked improvement over its prior incarnation, which resembled nothing so much as a racist cartoon.

But the pockmarked Boils puppet is pretty nasty and the color and shape of Blood look like a used feminine hygiene product. And (the title of this blog notwithstanding) let's not even get into the macabre dead baby puppet.

In fact, there's apparently a whole cottage industry of plague-themed toys. Like these plague masks (check out the Xs for eyes on the Firstborn mask) and this bag of plagues ("After the ten plagues, Pharoah never learns. But after the bag o' plagues your children will never forget your "special" seder.")

Plus, the admittedly rather adorable ten plague bowling set whose description encourages you to just try to pick up (and I only wish I were kidding) a "hail/death of the firstborn split."

The traditional thing to say at the end of the seder is Next year in Jerusalem! However, this year, mine is going to end with Next year, the ten plagues in delicious Kosher (and parve!) dark chocolate! Although pricy, they look rather tasty. Well, except maybe the Boils.

*Or perhaps insects. Depending on how you translate arov

half and half

2010-03-26T10:29:00.002-04:00

As it happens, today is my half-birthday. At least according to some calculations. Because, while you wouldn't think it should be all that difficult to figure out when your half-birthday is (take your birthday, add six months and voilà!), counting by calendar months does leave some people, say, those born at the very end of August, without any half- birthday at all.

So, since there's no need to make life any more unfair than it already is, let's agree that those unlucky folks can count half a year from their actual birthday (182.5 or 183 days, depending on whether it's a leap year or not -- use this handy half-birthday calculator), allowing everyone to have the opportunity to bask in the unadulterated joy that is a half-birthday. Which is even better than an actual birthday because you don't have to get all philosophical contemplating the deep, deep meaning of turning a year older.

On your half birthday, be sure to tell your friends to send you one of these half birthday cards. Bake or buy half a cake and decorate it with half the usual number or candles or, if you prefer, candles cut in half. If you blow them out, exactly half your wishes will come true*

*Of course, à la Half Magic, you could try wishing for twice as much or twice as many as you actually want. But that strikes me as, well, cheating.

even a watched pot boils eventually

2010-03-23T09:53:00.002-04:00

So, I took a screen shot of the ticker from Trish's blog and I was, like, gulp. Because, even though it says there are about 25 days left, in fact, there are considerably fewer. As in, say, 20. Maximum.

I've been pretty thoroughly in denial for months, but I suppose I need to make travel plans.

Can I start panicking yet?

sign of the times

2010-03-17T05:27:00.004-04:00

Via the billboard at the local liquor store: A wee little tip that just might come in handy this St. Patrick's Day.

Or, indeed, pretty much any day.

everything has an end and pudding has two

2010-03-06T18:55:00.015-05:00

remained my favorite proverb even after I came to the sad realization that it had nothing to do with the kind of pudding pictured above.*

*referring, instead to this rather less tasty-looking (to me, anyway) variety.

i'm lovin it

2010-03-03T09:26:00.004-05:00

I'm what you might call a "tardy adopter" --someone who never quite manages to be on the cutting edge of, well, just about anything. Which is why I was thrilled to see yesterday's Wall Street Journal article about the newfound popularity of macarons, a treat I've been touting on this blog for a long, long time.

Upon reading more closely, however, I learned that macarons have already plummeted all the way from très chic to totalement déclassé especially since they're now selling them (quelle horreur!) at McDonald's in Paris.

Still, on balance, this is a good thing. On the negative side, I'm going to have to find some way (brain bleach?) to suppress this image of a macaron looking for all the world like a tiny hamburger. But it's awfully nice to know that next time I get a big mac(aron) attack while strolling in the general vicinity of the Paris Opera House, I'll be covered.

What are you craving today?

blame it on betty m

2010-03-02T10:28:00.010-05:00

The Tragic Tale of Kaspar

The Sad Story of Pauline

Because, in her comment to the last post, Betty M reminded me of Strewwelpeter, that whimsically gruesome collection of cautionary tales for 19th century children. As you'll see in the before-and-after pictures above (labeled for your convenience)(click to enlarge) it's the macabre details that give the book its distinctive, um, charm.

Chubby Kaspar refuses to eat his soup and, shortly thereafter, starves to death, leaving behind only a little grave festooned with an oversized soup tureen.

Pauline, ignoring the sage warnings of her talking cats, plays with matches and is, alas, reduced to a heap of ashes. However, her shiny red shoes (apparently made of asbestos) manage to survive the conflagration in remarkably good shape.

Though the book is wildly inappropriate for children, I have to admit that, as a timid child, I loved it. Because -- and it's not hard to understand why -- just about the only things that didn't terrify me were the ones I should have been afraid of.

the lonely doll

2010-03-01T10:48:00.001-05:00

I was taking pictures of the toys on Cole's shelves, when déjà vu gave me a nudge like a tiny stilleto between the ribs,reminding me of a book from my childhood called, yes, " The Lonely Doll

It was a big hardcover book with a pretty pink gingham cover, but when I opened it up it was filled with black and white photos of a world strangely shrunken to exactly the right size for a doll and two teddy bears.

At the beginning, Edith the Doll was lonely. At the end, the bears told Edith she would never be lonely again. Which somehow never struck me as exactly comforting. In fact, quite the reverse.

What books terrified you when you were a child?

prepared

2010-02-26T11:45:00.002-05:00

I clicked over to Trish's blog, the way I do pretty much every day, looked at the baby-ticker-thing and realized that tomorrow will be (gulp) 33 weeks. Now, if this were a less, I dunno, fraught pregnancy, I probably would have gone out and bought some adorable infant-related stuff. As it is, I haven't gotten anything. Not one thing.*

But I didn't get anything for Cole before he arrived either and, although I had to run out of the hospital to pick up a car seat and some clothes and he slept in a laundry basket for the first few nights at home, it seemed to work out just fine.

So, when people ask me what they need to do to get ready for a new baby, I tell them "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Though, as usual, your mileage may vary.

*Okay. I'll confess. I got two things. Namely, two little pink outfits that I bought right after the 20-week ultrasound and left with Trish. But they're not in my house, so they don't really count, right?

listen to the music

2010-02-24T09:24:00.000-05:00

It's gotten over eight million views on YouTube, but if you’re prone to night terrors, I can’t in good conscience recommend this Indian kids video. It’s an oddly animated, strangely authoritarian-sounding rendition of a creepy, yet catchy, song. And, despite the title, it doesn't resemble any nursery rhyme I’ve ever heard.

It’s definitely not safe for work. But only because if they hear it (and it is LOUD), your coworkers will think you’ve gone off the deep end.

Also. Is anyone else troubled by the fact that, while the characters are named Rhyme Man, Rhyma and Rhymey, there isn’t a single rhyme in the entire thing?

p.s. Cole loved it.

idle musings

2010-02-22T11:10:00.004-05:00

Yesterday, I was sick. Sick in a unpleasantly kind of all-inclusive way that left me lying in bed, barely able to whimper and feeling rather like Death Warmed Over. Which, it suddenly occurred to me, would be an absolutely perfect name for a flourless chocolate torte – a kind of riff on the ubiquitous Death by Chocolate theme.

Since the vast majority of my flashes of inspiration have already been preempted, I weakly lifted my head from my pillow and googled the phrase. And while, strangely enough. I failed to find a dessert by that name, I did come across a “unique”* book entitled Death Warmed Over.

At least according to the reviews, Death Warmed Over is a combination catalogue of funeral rituals of various cultures (conveniently listed alphabetically from African-American to Zoroastrian) and cookbook, featuring such useful tidbits as whether it’s appropriate to serve chocolate caskets and skull-shaped cakes at a wake (my guess would be no) and how to make a Funeral Pie (a recipe that rather creepily includes chocolate-covered gummy people).

Which is to say that, if you’re trying to think of a name for your molten chocolate cake creation, Death Warmed Over still seems to be available. You’re very welcome.

And what brilliant ideas have you been having lately?

*It only qualifies as “unique” because I also found the remarkably similar-sounding Food to Die For -- a cookbook offering “a lighthearted look at funeral customs, old and new,” “practical advice for writing obituaries and condolence notes” and instructions for making a gingerbread house. (yeah, I don’t get it either).

fishing for carp

2010-02-19T10:26:00.002-05:00

(photo by Gray)

Thanks so, so much for ~~enabling~~ supporting me. I'm feeling much better and everything will work out and, though it may not be immediately obvious from the general tenor and content of this blog, I don't actually enjoy being all whiny. Really. I swear.

Which brings us to the fascinating (well, to me, anyway) question of whine v. whinge. Apparently (at least according to the first few google results I looked at) whine derives from the Old English verb, hwinan, meaning "to make a humming or whirring sound," while, in contrast, whinge comes from the extremely closely related Old English verb, hwinsian, meaning (no surprise here) "to wail or moan discontentedly."

Of course, the main difference is that whinge, was, until quite recently, a mostly non-US usage. Though these days you hear it more and more from the same Anglophile types who say things like presently instead of soon and holiday instead of vacation. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Anyway, misery loves company, so I'm thinking we should have a contest for best whin(g)es. And by best I mean something like loudest or most creative or most trivial or most disproportionate to the thing complained about.

So leave your whiniest whines in the comments and help me pick the winners Bonus points for a complaint that is, itself, annoying.

Whin(g)e away.

in which niobe sulks

2010-02-18T09:30:00.003-05:00

(photo by Gray)

I know I'm going to regret posting this. In fact, I already do. And let me preface it by saying that I realize that there are far, far worse problems to have and that I should probably just shut up and be grateful. However, consider the following, purely hypothetical scenario:

Imagine that in approximately eight weeks (thanks to a wonderful surrogate named, say, Trish) you were expecting a, y'know, baby. And, because Trish lived relatively far away and you wanted to be there when the hypothetical baby was born, you asked your parents to babysit your equally hypothetical toddler for a couple of days.

Under those circumstances: would it slightly annoy you if your parents refused to babysit because, on one of the nights that you'd be away, they had tickets to a play? You know, hypothetically?

eta: And feel absolutely free to suggest which variety of cheese would best complement my whine.

arabesques

2010-02-16T18:25:00.003-05:00

Gray is still touring round Spain. He sends me the above photos (of the Alhambra), tells me that he went to a Visigothic mass at the cathedral of Toledo and provides the following explanation:

The Visigothic mass (also known as the Toledan or Mozarabic rite) is the old Spanish form of the Catholic mass, used by the Mozarabic Christians of Toledo under Muslim rule. In 1085, when the Christians reconquered Toledo, they had to choose whether to switch to the standard Roman mass or continue the traditional Mozarabic one. They put the issue to a trial by fire.

According to the Catholic Encyclopedia: “The two books were thrown into a fire. By the time the Roman book was consumed, the Toledan was little damaged. No one who has seen a Mozarabic manuscript, with its extraordinarily solid vellum, will adopt any hypothesis of Divine interposition here.”

Sometimes Gray is so like me that I wonder if I somehow accidentally cloned myself.

my secret valentine

2010-02-14T06:34:00.000-05:00

palm autopilot

2010-02-10T07:35:00.000-05:00

And what's written on your hand today?

Let us know in the comments or leave a link to your blog if you're posting a picture.

fight fiercely, team!

2010-02-07T14:11:00.003-05:00

I hear there's some sort of athletic event occurring later this evening. Likely, I'll be wheezing and sniffling while trying to sleep off my recent Theraflu binge.

But who are you rooting for?

eta: and thanks so much for the many compliments on the exceptional cuteness that is Cole!

ring of truth

2010-02-05T09:28:00.000-05:00

While things may be different in other worlds, here's the way it works in this one: the only person you can count on is yourself.

and according to the random number generator...

2010-02-03T12:13:00.001-05:00

the winners are...

mfa mama

and

ally pally

Congratulations to the lucky winners (who just need to let me know what email address they'd like to have their prizes sent to)

Thanks to everyone for playing!

And may the random number generator smile on you the next time round.

the finalists

2010-02-03T10:25:00.002-05:00

Drumroll, please. The finalists, all of whom picked the correct hockey player out of the line up are:

meg
carla
mfa mama
lizard bits
magpie
lindsay
girl in the glen
two hands
the nanny
ally pally

honorable mention to:

trish (on behalf of the baby) since she has the advantage of actually having met L.

Winners to be announced shortly....

the answer

2010-02-03T08:29:00.001-05:00

To this question. Did you guess correctly?

Winners to be announced later today. Stay tuned.

funnel vision

2010-02-02T08:49:00.002-05:00

Look, I make every effort to do the hands off, detachment parenting thing. But even I have my limits.

So when I ask what Gray what he's doing in Spain and he responds by emailing me the above picture, I feel like it may be time to have a serious talk with him.

Because, honestly, the composition and framing are atrocious.

free stuff 4 u!

2010-01-30T23:29:00.007-05:00

Recently discovered photographic evidence (see above) conclusively demonstrates that, way back in the 1980s, L played high school hockey. Which inspired me to do a contest slash giveaway.

Here's how to play:

1. Stare at the photo.

2. Figure out which one is L

3. Leave a comment by midnight-ish Tuesday, February 2 with your guess. (see how I've numbered the jerseys for your convenience)

4. If you get it right, you'll be in the running for one of two(!) GRAND PRIZES , namely, a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com

One entry per day per person.

Note that since these are online gift certificates, the contest is open to everyone, everywhere and that if you win, all you'll need to supply me with is an email address.

And if you need a hint to which of these hockey gods is L: He's the one that's so hot that you wonder if they really needed a zamboni® to melt the ice.

eta: Just to make it a little easier. So far (that is, as of comment #5) no one has guessed correctly. If you've already guessed and gotten it wrong, feel free to try again.

edited even more to add: And, in case it wasn't clear (which it obviously wasn't), when I said hot what I actually meant was "hot." As in the guy you'd most like to have sitting next to you in AP Chemistry. So you could copy off his paper during tests.

Another hint: As of right this very minute -- 6:10 am on February 1 or febrúar 2010 06:10, if the Icelandic thing is still up -- only one person has guessed correctly. Remember, you get one guess per day. So, even if you've already guessed once, keep trying!

minor annoyances

2010-01-27T14:33:00.007-05:00

The cord to my camera is missing, meaning I can't upload any pictures

I yearn for a new camera. With all my heart. And what's left of my soul.

We haven't had a tv since August.

An enormous bill just arrived from the exterminator guys. The good news: No more termites. The bad news: No more money.

Sometime other people's news -- whether happy or sad -- is indescribably depressing

Conjunctivitis.

It's lose. Not loose. Trust me on this one.

If Phantom Scribbler hadn't already copyrighted the term, I'd call this Wednesday Whining.

What's vexing you?

horseshoes and hand grenades

2010-01-25T16:04:00.010-05:00

Q: Why does this not quite qualify for Lori's Perfect Moment Monday list?

A: Because that's not my drawer.

Console me and soothe my gnawing pangs of envy (or perhaps hunger) by telling me what's your absolute favorite cookie (or, more accurately, bakie) in the whole wide world.

eta: Looking for tasty cookie recipes? Check out the comments. And try not to drool all over your keyboard.

what i really, really want

2010-01-21T07:56:00.009-05:00

Is to see Frank (that would be Kym's Frank, aka, the world-famous Frank of the world-famous Frank's Big Ones) all dolled up in a sparkly dress and doing a super-sexy dance. Just for me. Well, me and everyone else on the internets. As they say in Paris: “ooh la la!”

But there’s only one way to make that happen. And it all depends on you. Just click on the link below and donate a buck (or a couple if you can spare them). It all goes to some do-good benefit thing related to infertility or something. Kym explains it all here. (Look, there’s a reason her blog is called I’m a Smart One, while my blog is called Dead Baby Jokes)

And here’s the important, nay, critical, aspect: for every dollar you contribute, you’re entered in a drawing to win a dozen of Frank’s Big Ones Cookies. Again, refer to Kym's post for the details, which I'm sure I don't really understand.

What I can tell you is that these munga-sized cookies are the most awesomest ever. Also, as the name suggests, they are, well, big. Very, very big. (Parenthetically, while, as always, I’m entirely open to ~~bribes~~ incentives, particularly in the form of tasty sugar-saturated treats, full disclosure requires me to reveal that for this particular post I have not received any. Yet.)

eta: an exciting update: Kym tells me that, if, for whatever reason, you don't have any spare cash money, just leave a comment on her post (click here!) and you'll be automatically entered in the FREE COOKIE GIVEAWAY! How great is that?

To recap: Click on the button below. Donate a buck. Cookies! Plus, Frank in a dress! Or, if we pony up enough: a g-string!

Hubba, hubba! Dance, Frank, dance!

The animation is from wikipedia. It illustrates objects experiencing different kinds of, uh, drag.
I totally crack myself up. .

parallel lines

2010-01-18T08:34:00.004-05:00

When I started this blog, almost exactly three years ago, I'm not really sure what I was thinking. I was a few months out from the loss, able to go hours at a time without crying, even capable of a certain amount of ironic distance.

But, whatever I was looking for, what I've found over the last three years are many, many people who've given me love and support and hope. And I can't begin to express how grateful I am to all of you.

Still, until a couple of days ago, I'd never found someone who was, right now, right this very minute, almost exactly where I was three years and a few months ago.

I'd occasionally read Eve at Infertility Rocks, but it was one of those happily-pregnant-with-boy-girl-twins blogs that I could only manage in very small doses, with squinting eyes and clenched teeth. That all changed a week ago when, at her routine 24-week ultrasound, Eve learned that, while her little girl is doing well, her little boy is gone.

And, for once, I imagine I know pretty much exactly what she's feeling. I didn't write about it when it was happening to me. I wasn't blogging yet and I'm not sure I could have said anything that made any sense. But, reading Eve's beautifully crafted words, I remember crying for my little boy. I remember hoping with all my heart that my little girl would make it. And I remember that she almost did.

Please stop by Eve's place and give her all the love and light you can spare.

first impressions

2010-01-14T11:00:00.004-05:00

photos of Alicante by a somewhat jet-lagged Gray

drive by

2010-01-13T08:36:00.012-05:00

The other day I got a call from someone who I hadn’t heard from in a long, long time. Someone who I was kind of hoping I would never hear from again.

He had apparently managed to get himself in some sort of trouble stemming from an incident that sounded like a cross between a bar fight and an episode of road rage. And not in a good way.

Because let's just say that it was a long and complicated story and when he said he hit someone I wasn’t listening closely enough to figure out if he meant with his fist or his car.

When he was done, I told him that I couldn’t help him and gave him the names of a couple of people who might be able to. Then I tried to hang up, but he kept talking.

"So," he said, "I see you’ve moved to a new place."

"What do you mean?" I said. And what I’m thinking is: I haven’t moved since 1995.

"Well," he said, "I was driving by your house the other day -–"

"Mmmmm," I said. And what I’m thinking is: I live on a dead end street.

" -- and I saw a baby carriage on the front porch."

"Oh, yes," I said, "That must have been the day my friend, um, Ellen stopped by with her 18-month-old. She visits, like, um, all the time. Well, nicetalkingtoyougottagobye."

And what I’m thinking is: Here’s to long-lost friends. May they stay that way. Permanently.

Who’s been calling you lately?

the rain in spain

2010-01-12T05:53:00.014-05:00

Someday, it'll make a great story. Sunday night, we dropped Gray off at the airport. He was carrying a brand new backpack and wheeling a small suitcase. He was on his way to Alicante, a Spanish Mediteranean port city, where he'll be living with a host family and studying Spanish for six weeks, before spending some time traveling around Spain and France on his own.

In theory, he was supposed to catch a connecting flight from Madrid to Alicante, but it's wet and foggy enough that the airlines have been cancelling flight after flight and Gray's been stuck at the Madrid airport for almost 36 hours.

Gray calls me at work. He's tired and hungry. He doesn't have much money and he speaks only a few words of Spanish. I tell him that everything will be fine and I remember when I, a couple of years older than Gray is now, arrived at the train station in Milan on my way to somewhere else, just as all the railway workers went on strike.

I had no nowhere to stay and, in those days before cell phones, no way to tell anyone where I was. A one-eyed pigeon pecked viciously at the ground in front of me and, as I checked my pockets one more time for my passport, I realized that the only person I could really depend on was myself.

Someday, it'll make a great story and later, Gray calls me back. "I waited in the customer service line for three and a half hours," he says,"Coincidentally, you know what else would have taken me three and a half hours? Taking the train to Alicante."

Someday, it'll make a great story. He's already working on the first draft.

Do you have a nightmare of a travel tale to share?

eta: If you like reading about other people's misadventures, be sure to check out the comments. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll vow never to leave home again.

twice told

2010-01-08T08:37:00.001-05:00

This morning, it was snowing. Cole, sitting on the kitchen floor, dropped the plastic cups he was banging together and pushed himself to his feet to run after the cat. He screamed when the cat, tail twitching, vanished with a well-practiced leap over the safety gate. He screamed again when I put him in his high chair and screamed even louder when I put on his bib and tried to wipe his nose. Then he said "guh-GAH" and started making small munching noises as he picked up and carefully examined his breakfast -- a waffle, torn into pieces, and the remains of last night's roasted garlic potatoes.

A year ago, it was snowing. I was in the hospital with Kyrie, both of us trying to explain the concept of surrogacy to a series of sceptical nurses, who, despite the order signed by the court and a phone call to the legal department, couldn't make up their minds who should get the plastic bracelet that said "baby boy." On a table in the corner of the room, Cole was being cleaned up and weighed. I kept waiting for someone to say "I'm sorry," but instead, they put him my arms. I looked at him, then at Kyrie. I knew I was supposed to say something, but I couldn't string the words together.

Happy first birthday, Cole. And, Kyrie, though you're probably not reading this, I want to tell you that today I'm thinking of you with love and a heart-stopping gratitude for, well, everything. Just like I do every day.

join the counter-resolution!

2010-01-05T10:10:00.007-05:00

So, it's been 2010 for five whole days. And when you're not thinking about how twenty-ten sounds all cool and futuristic, you're probably feeling guilty and anxious about those pesky New Year's resolutions you've made and, most likely, already broken.

But all is not lost. If you're tired of resolutions that you just can't manage to keep, there's still time to make a fresh start with counter-resolutions, a brand-new and exciting concept developed by yours truly.

Problem: New Year's resolutions

Solution: Niobe's Counter-Resolutions®

Those bad habits? Well, they're called habits for a reason. Instead of trying to fight them, embrace them. In other words, promise yourself you're going to do something that you're likely to do anyway. Here's how it works:

Old-fashioned resolution: Work out three times a week.

New and Improved Counter-Resolution®: Join a pricy gym in January. Buy lots of expensive work out outfits. Twist your ankle during your first spinning class. Decide to skip classes for the month of February so your ankle can heal. You'll start again in ~~March~~ ~~April~~ ~~after Memorial Day.~~ In October, call your credit card company to ask what the heck is this $89 charge that keeps showing up every month.

Old-fashioned resolution: Carpe diem (literally "seize the day"). Live mindfully. Cultivate an attitude of gratitude. Count your many blessings.

New and Improved Counter-Resolution®: Carp diem (literally "whine all day") Complain. Vent. Work on making that all-compassing list of the faults and irksome behaviors of your partner/relatives/friends
/coworkers/kids/houseplants.

Basically, it's win/win. You'll feel good about making a counter-resolution that you can actually follow through on. And on the off chance you don't keep your counter-resolution, well, you can feel good about that too.

So, post your counter-resolutions here, anonymously, if you'd like. And, unless I forget, we can check once in a while to see how they're working out for you.

limited time offer

2010-01-02T10:03:00.020-05:00

It was snowing. And it was going to snow. A pot of soup made according to jo(e)'s double super secret recipe* is simmering on the stove and I'm thinking about shoveling the walk. If you're twiddling your thumbs, at a loss for something to do, here are a couple of helpful suggestions:

First, if you know of any more 2009 babies for my list, please let me know.

Second, I'm finally kind of getting around to sending out ~~holiday~~ ~~Christmas~~ ~~New Year's~~ Epiphany cards. If you'd like one, email me your address (at like.niobe.all.tears AT gmail DOT com, if the link isn't working for you) and (until I run out of cards), I'll put one in the mail. eta: please put the word "card" in the subject line.

edited even more to add: okay, I've run out of cards for this year, but if you've already sent me an address, your card is on its way. Happy New Year, everyone!

*Which (shhh, don't tell anyone) you can find here. Although it's not really a recipe. At least not a recipe for soup.

no interpretation necessary

2010-01-01T06:44:00.005-05:00

In my dream, I was standing in the checkout line at the supermarket, watching as the cashier loaded my purchases into eco-friendly reusable bags. I started towards the exit, when I realized there had been some dreadful mistake.

In my cart was a large and hideous monkfish, its teeth gleaming like pointy piano keys. Some wilted celery. A rutabaga. Five drippy containers of rapidly melting ice cream, all of them strawberry, my unfavorite flavor.

I turned around and explained the situation to the cashier, who gave me a full refund. Then I walked out of the store, a song in my heart and money in my pocket.

How much money? Why, $20.10.

Happy New Year to all of you! May it glow with light and love, and may your metaphorical grocery cart be filled to the brim with everything you could possibly want.

happy endings

2009-12-30T05:47:00.052-05:00

Look, I know that for a lot of you the only happy ending is that we'll be bidding farewell to 2009 in the very near future. It's been a hard year for far too many people, a year when bad things happened and good things, hoped-for, dreamed-of, good things, well, didn't happen.

If you fall into that category and don't want to hear about other people's good news, well, I don't blame you one bit. There are a reasonably large number of years (2000, 2001 and 2002 spring immediately to mind) that I'd like to erase from the calendar. But in that case, you might want to skip the rest of this post which contains a cloying surfeit of happy, sparkly thoughts. I know. I know.

The first very, very good thing is that Sunflower, Ezra's little brother, has arrived safely.

Which got me thinking that I'd like to make a list of the babies that we (and that's the collective we) welcomed in 2009.

So if you, or someone you know, has a new(ish) 2009 baby, could you please send me an email (like.niobe.all.tears AT gmail DOT com) or add a comment including the baby's name or pseudonym and date, the parent/blogger's name or pseudonym and (if applicable) a link to the blog.

Once I've collected a bunch, I'll add a list to this post.

eta:
2009 babies

January 1: perseus (antigone)
January 5: archie (gretchen)
January 8: cøle (niobe)
January 10: lyra phoenix (janis)
January 14: jag (doc grumbles)
January 18: simone adelle (melody)
January 28: amelia grace (aunt becky)
February 5: daniel (other shoe joy)
March 2: genevieve, (becky)
March 20: denis (clc)
April 6: ww (calliope)
April 10: alexis (amy)
April 14: sophie (jess)
April 19: evelyn (jen)
May 13: archer gene (alicia)
May 23: faith addyson (jus and kat)
May 30: finnegan (debbie)
May 31: baby j (luna)
June 15: ryan and dylan (jay me)
June 24: a2 (white picket fences)
June 25: ct (searching for serenity)
June 26: bennett (m)
June 27: moe (after iris)
July 2: junior (thalia)
July 9: the little acorn (rachel)
July 23: brystol rebecca (amanda)
July 25: K (melka)
August 11: magdalene (danyelle)
August 18: henry (rachel)
August 27: petite (gil)
September 17: matthew, brady, aubrey and cameron (kari)
September 21: chou-chou (artblog)
September 24: skeeter (jamie d)
October 3: zoe and sadie (debbie)
October 3: burrito and tamale (babysmiling)
October 14: bean (the steadfast warrior)
October 16: adam (heather)
October 29: mini (sharah)
October 17: angus leo (hope's mama)
November 7: annika (christina)
November 17: charlotte (ja ne)
November 29: s (dora)
December 9: jumping bean (nina)
December 16: ocea (carly)
December 23: sister (rachel)
December 27: k (my reality)
December 30: micah amir(ezra's mommy)
December 31: eliza (emily)

Please let me know about any that I'm missing

the year that was

2009-12-28T17:13:00.005-05:00

Over at flickr, people are posting and discussing their worst photos of 2009. Which made me think that, while I take a lot of fairly lame photos, the vast majority of them never actually make it out of the camera. However, the evidence is pretty irrefutable that I did take the time and trouble to upload the one posted above. And all I can say is: WTF was I thinking?

I'm sure I had some totally awesome concept in mind when I took the picture. See, like, it was raining! And the raindrops were, like, falling! On the porch! And there was light! That was reflecting! On the raindrops!

Um, yeah. Whatever.

Anyway, moving right along, we now come to the interactive part of the post. What's your worst photo or post from the past year? The one that makes you cringe when you think about it? The one that you really, really want to forget? But, before you consign it to the memory hole, how about telling us all about it (with, possibly, a link)? You know you want to.

newest arrival

2009-12-27T16:17:00.003-05:00

My Reality (who's been tweeting her labor and delivery) says: She's here. She's safe. She's perfect.

If you can, please stop by her blog or her twitter stream and welcome her long-awaited daughter.

merry christmas

2009-12-25T07:31:00.002-05:00

antisocial tendencies

2009-12-23T13:40:00.000-05:00

This is absolutely, positively not a confession thread. In fact, I'm thinking of swearing off confession threads pretty much permanently.

Nonetheless, I'll confess this. I often have(no surprise) an inordinate craving for alone time, especially because I don't get all that much of it. So, having the house to myself for the past two days while the other members of the household sojourned in various and sundry faraway cities?

Best. Xmas. Present. Ever.

in the news

2009-12-22T09:58:00.005-05:00

I was fascinated to read (h/t surromoms online) about a recently-published Dutch study discussing a new test that reveals the gender of a developing fetus as early as 5 weeks' gestation and requires only a blood sample from the mother* (and, if possible the father).

Obviously, such a non-invasive test has some medical value, for example, allowing prenatal treatment of certain rare sex-linked diseases. But, by letting people know gender very early in pregnancy, it might also encourage people to terminate if they didn't get the gender they preferred.

What's your view? Do you think such a test is a good idea? Would you ask for it if you were pregnant?

*Or, I suppose (not that I really understand this stuff), more accurately, from the woman carrying the baby, since the initial screening is for Y-chromosome-associated pieces of DNA and doesn't really depend on whether the carrier is also the genetic mother. However, if the Y-chromosome markers are absent, it sounds like you need the genetic parents' DNA, because the researchers check for genetic alterations unique to the father (no Y-chromosome marker + unique paternal polymorphism = female). Also, (based, again on my limited understanding) it sounds like the blood test may not work for multiples.

the year's midnight

2009-12-21T08:57:00.000-05:00

The sun rose at 7:10 this morning and, barring some catastrophe of truly apocalyptic dimensions, will set at around 4:15 this afternoon. It's midwinter, though, technically, winter has just begun. It's the shortest day of our year and, here in the city, cold and covered with snow.

I think it's also my favorite day. Because, pessimistic as I am, I feel reasonably confident that right now it's as dark as it's going to get. And, from now until some faraway time in the middle of June, every day will be a little longer than the one before.

And the picture? It's St. Lucy, whose feast day (at least until they got rid of the Julian calendar) used to be the shortest day of the year. To learn practically everything about St. Lucy (including the St. Lucy song that I made up all by myself!) take a look at this post from a couple of Decembers ago.

measure for measure

2009-12-20T10:22:00.000-05:00

You all really are kind of amazing. Thank you so, so much for suggesting a, well, veritable cornucopia of gorgeous names. I love them. In fact, I love them so much, that I’m beginning to wish that I was negotiating this name thing with one of since you seem to have such exquisite taste (or, which is almost the same thing, have managed to totally peg my taste).

What can I offer in return? Um, well I know that a few of you were noting that the recipes I linked to a couple of posts back used the inscrutable US measuring system. So, I give you a calculator conversion thingy that will help you figure out equivalents in grams. You can also try their beta version, which is a bit more complex.

Important tip: if you’re not using the beta calculator, be sure to scroll down and use the measurement for the particular ingredient you’re considering. Because (and this is probably obvious, but was news to me) a cup/tablespoon/teaspoon of, say, peanut butter most assuredly does not weigh the same as a cup/tablespoon/teaspoon of, say, baking powder.

And, at no extra cost, I’ll throw in a converter that deals solely how to generate measurements in grams for (you guessed it) tasty, tasty BUTTER!!!

Finally, because you’ve all been so incredibly generous in helping me out with my naming dilemma, once the, um, baby’s here (being recklessly optimistic about the whole thing), I’d be more than happy to share the name we end up choosing with anyone who actually wants to know. Details to (eventually) follow.

And, if there's anything else I can do to thank you, just, y'know, ask.

one more time

2009-12-17T11:56:00.006-05:00

Unsurprisingly, despite many long discussions (most of which rapidly degenerated into vicious squabbles), we just haven't been able to find any common ground on a girl’s name.

Can you, O wise and powerful Internets, help?

A few points to consider:

I’m not a fan of most nicknames, but I realize that they’re pretty much inevitable, so if I don’t like the most common nickname(s), even if I like the full name, I’d rather choose something else.

I want a name that’s relatively easy to say and spell.

Because the surname we're going to use is a common English word, a first name that's also a word or a place name (ex: Scarlett, Savannah) tends not to work.

We’re only looking for a first name. The middle name is not in play, because we’ll be selecting one from a limited list of family surnames.

To get an idea of my taste, check out the totally awesome old lady names in the comments to one of my previous posts

Also, to point you in the right direction, here are a couple of lists:

Names That I Love, But Certain Unnamed Members Of My Household Have Rejected

Penelope

Eleanor/Elinor

Augusta (I realize this violates my no-place-name rule)

Octavia (nickname Tavia or Via)

Caroline

Cordelia (though I'm not all that fond of the nicknames Cordy or Delia

Agatha

Agnes

Helen

Alice

Charlotte (mostly because one of us used to know a girl whose nickname was Charlotte the Scarlet Harlot)

Beautiful, Wonderful Names That I *Should* Like, But For Various Idiosyncratic Reasons Don't Really Care For

Elizabeth: The full name is lovely, but it's a mouthful and I'm not really feeling any of the nicknames, both the common (Liz, Beth, Betsy, Elissa) and the more obscure (Tibby, Zibby, Sabeth)

Amelia (can’t get over fact that it means “limbless” in ~~Latin~~ Greek. I know. I know.)

Virginia

Adelaide (I just see “laide,” meaning “ugly” in French. Plus it violates my no-place-name rule)

Adeline

Antonia (too hard to pronounce: An-TONE-ee-a or An-toe-NEE-a?)

Beatrix/Beatrice (I actually do like this name a lot, but the nicknames Bea or Trixie don't work for me)

So, given those parameters, won't you please, please leave a comment with the one perfect name?

all the ingredients

2009-12-14T09:02:00.007-05:00

In our house, we call them bakies. Because, like, duh, you don't cook them, you bake them. Then we giggle hysterically. Because we're very easily amused.

This weekend, Gray looked through the Christmas cookie section of marthastewart.com, selected a slew of recipes and we baked Every. Single. One. Including, but not limited to, the chocolate waffle cookies featured in the previous post, jam-stuffed linzer sandwiches and (my personal favorite) pecan bars.

All of the recipes called for massive quantities of creamed butter, so while waiting for it soften, we constructed the structure pictured above. In homage to the Nephilim, who (in case you didn't know), were giants from outer space who built (among other things) the Great Pyramid of Giza, which predicts the imminent arrival of End Times, we called it the Great Butter Pyramid of the Apocalyse.

And then we giggled. Hysterically.

in the kitchen

2009-12-13T21:47:00.001-05:00

You’ve probably already seen the recent New York Times article about surrogacy.

Like most such articles, it doesn’t focus on the usual happy ending, where a surrogate and intended parents work together to bring a much-wanted child into the world. Instead, it’s mostly about the outliers, the rare cases where surrogacy goes spectacularly wrong, resulting, to take one sad example, in a legal battle over twins who are genetically unrelated to either the surrogate or the intended parents, in a state where surrogacy is prohibited by law. Unsurprisingly, the overall tone is pretty negative and the comments are mostly variations on the theme of "just adopt."

It’s hard for me to get especially upset about it, though, because what really stood out was this: according to the article, there are about 750 babies born each year in the United States through gestational surrogacy. Now, I’m not sure where they came up with that number since whether or not a given birth is a surrogacy isn’t something that’s generally evident from public records. But, assuming that the calculation is more or less accurate, that’s a really, really tiny fraction of the over 4 million babies born each year in the US.

Which, I think explains a lot. Given my perspective, I tend to forget that surrogacy, and even things like donor eggs or IVF, are so far outside most people’s experience, that they must seem entirely theoretical, unreal, like fiction or, I suppose, science fiction. And I suppose I have to admit that this isn’t someplace I ever thought I’d be. But I also have to admit that, when I consider the alternatives, I’m awfully glad I’m here.

comfort and joy

2009-12-11T07:59:00.002-05:00

My grandmother used to tell me the story of how, one December, she persuaded her younger sisters to hide a pine tree in their father’s barn and decorate it with ribbons and necklaces. She also taught me the traditional Jewish blessings and when I hear the prayers, I hear her voice, the Hebrew given the distinctive pronunciation of Eastern Europe , where her parents were born. Baruch ataw adonai, she would say, the “aw” sound drawn out and low.

Hannukah is about many things, but, both originally and in its current incarnation, at least as practiced by basically secular Jews like me, one of things it’s most about is assimilation. It’s easy enough to light a menorah and the candles look pretty as they shine from the window sill. The more difficult question, especially in households with young children or non-Jewish members, is what to do about the other December holiday. I come down on the side of no Christmas in my house, but there’s a wide range of opinions and practices and, in my mother’s living room, there’s an Advent calendar on the mantel and Easter eggs hanging from a tinsel-draped tree.

In general, I’m not a big fan of ecumenism, at least to the extent that it’s construed as blurring, rather than celebrating, differences. But I will say this: here and now, in this season of expectation, as we make our way through the Northern Hemisphere’s dark days and cold nights, there are times when every holiday, no matter what its name, looks an awful lot like a festival of lights.

night and day

2009-12-09T18:47:00.006-05:00

Cole has been (knock wood) almost preternaturally reliable about sleeping -- down by 7:00, up at 5:30. Which is a tiny bit earlier than I like on the morning end, but not bad at all, since I've always been very much an early-to-bed-early-to-rise type.

In college, when everyone else's evening was just getting started, I'd put my head under the covers and drift off to sleep listening to the comforting hum of voices and music. In the morning, while my roommates were still in bed, I'd be the first one in the dining hall, drinking coffee at the one of the enormous oak tables, reciting lists of German verbs -- schlafen, schlief, hat geschlafen. I knew that upstairs, across the hallway, in the dorm on the other side of the street, in every room, in every bed, there were people sleeping. And I don't think I've ever felt less lonely or less alone.

What about you -- lark or night owl?

unsolicited blogging advice

2009-12-06T08:55:00.002-05:00

What Mel said

Here's the short version:

(1) If you have a password protected blog or post, send out a mass email (including your password) to all the people you want to read your blog.

(2) If you have a blogger blog (meaning the url is something like myblogDOTblogspotDOTcom), click on your profile and make sure it's linked to your blog and your email. Set up a new email exclusively for blog stuff, if you'd like. Note: even if you don't have a real blog, you can set up a "blog" (just don't add any content), so you have a profile with an email.

So often, there are comments I want to respond to personally or that make me want to learn more of the commenter's story, but I can't because I can't find blog link or a profile or an email address anywhere. And that makes me all sad and frowny-faced. Which, believe me, is not exactly fetching.

half baked

2009-12-04T09:09:00.004-05:00

I confess that I click over to Trish's place all the time, just so I can look at the baby ticker. Tomorrow, it tells me, we'll be at 21 weeks, which seems absolutely unbelievable. I'm feeling ridiculously optimistic and we're even starting to talk about possible names.

Since you all had such great ideas for a blog pseudonym, I'm thinking that I'd throw the question of a real name out there as well.

The kind of names that I like? Well, as someone recently pointed out, I tend to crush on names that are cool in a horn-rimmed glasses kind of way. My grandmother's sisters were Beatrice, Agnes and Helen, all of which have the kind of jolie-laide vibe I'm looking for -- not cute or conventionally pretty, but more the kind of girl who reads the dictionary for fun. I mean, if the name Hortense weren't off limits for reasons far too obvious to mention, I'd snap it up in a minute.

Any suggestions? Or, to put it another way, what were the names of your grandmother/great-grandmother and her sisters?

eta* ::squealing:: Omigosh -- Eunice, Melva, Vera, Wilhelmine, Thisbe, Lorna, Ida -- check out the comments for the awesomest names ever!

*By which I mean "edited to add," though, now that I think about it, Et(t)a would fit in perfectly.

commuting

2009-12-02T17:55:00.006-05:00

Driving home in the dark, the radio on, the baby asleep in the back seat is when I think about, well, things. And what I was thinking about tonight was this: I've done a lot of really stupid things in my life. And (in what would be a substantially, but not completely overlapping circle in a Venn diagram) I've done a lot of things that I'm very sorry I did. And most of them were the direct and wholly foreseeable result of saying maybe when I should have said no

x is for xmas

2009-12-01T08:33:00.005-05:00

Despite (or, more likely, because of) the fact that we don't celebrate Christmas at our house, I absolutely love pretty much every one of the holiday trappings: the Christmas lights, the Christmas trees, the Christmas cookies, the Christmas stockings.

If I were Christian and even the tiniest bit religious, I'd probably go all out, but, as it is, I don't feel obligated to do anything in particular. In fact, I feel kind of obligated to not do anything in particular (and, no, following the time-honored Jewish tradition of going out for Chinese food on Xmas Day doesn't really count). I know that some non-Christians feel alienated by the pervasive Christmasy-ness of December, but I think of it as kind of like being a guest at someone else's party or a spectator at a play -- all the fun, none of the work.

I do, however, buy presents for my many, many non-Jewish relatives and sign up for the program run by the office to buy Christmas gifts for needy kids. This year I've been matched with Javon*. All I know about him is that he's six years old and that he's asking for jeans, sweaters, a winter coat, books and arts and crafts. It's been an awfully long time since I've had to shop for a six-year-old boy and I'm kind of at a loss. So, if you have any suggestions of specific books or arts and crafts things he might like, please leave them in the comments.

eta: Thanks so, so much for all the great suggestions! You guys are absolutely brilliant!

*Not his real name, of course.

holiday spirits

2009-11-27T08:24:00.001-05:00

As you probably know, I'm very much in favor of drinking responsibly or not at all, so when Mel was asking for tips for getting through the holiday season, I was a little reluctant to share this particular one.

But it's a DBJ family Thanksgiving tradition and comes complete with a pretty blue flame and yesterday, I conjured up a punchbowl full. Because, really, what's more fun that an enormous vat of alcohol that you SET ON FIRE!!!

So, next time you're having a family celebration of something or other, follow this simple recipe. Strike a match. Listen to everyone ooh and ahh. Douse the blaze. Take a sip or two. And watch all those unpleasant relatives fade to a vague, yet charming blur.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, what's one of your family's traditions?

first things first

2009-11-25T10:06:00.008-05:00

Somehow this wasn't exactly the result I was expecting. First, that everything looks fine. And second, that it really looks like it's a, y'know, XX. I mean, it's all good. Very, very good, even. But, as they say, still.

I'm not going to think about that right now, though, and, instead, I'm going to concentrate on something simple and concrete. Namely (I so crack myself up), it occurs to me that she'll probably need a pseudonym.

Since I have kind of a color theme going with Gray and Cole, I decided that I should follow the path of least resistance and continue along that route. Which turns out to be far easier than one might have thought, since just a few moments reflection generated the following list of possible blog names for the little one:

Scarlett

Pearl

Rose

Willow

Sienna

Jade

+Ruby (added at the suggestion of several clever commenters)

So, tell me, which, if any, sounds best to you?

And feel more than welcome to offer any other suggestions you might have for at least somewhat color-related names.

Thank you so, so much for all your thoughts and congratulations on the last post. I don't want to get all sentimental or anything, but they really mean the world to me. Also.

2009-11-24T12:03:00.001-05:00

and for my next trick...

2009-11-22T02:20:00.005-05:00

I'm sitting in the airport, waiting for my flight to board. Tomorrow is the level II ultrasound and I'm almost too exhausted to be stressed. Please vote in the poll below and I'll do the big reveal when we find out.

eta: I'm too lazy to fix it, but by tomorrow, I mean Tuesday, since today is actually Monday. Sorry!

already gone

2009-11-20T18:42:00.000-05:00

Feeling oh-so-much better, mostly because I'm about to head out on a ROAD TRIP!! For the weekend!!! With the brilliant and beautiful Julia!!!

Laterz!

beware of blog

2009-11-20T09:09:00.002-05:00

Do you ever have one of those days, when, like, everything just irks you? When the spitting rain and stubborn darkness seem like conclusive evidence of a vast conspiracy and your umbrella collapses when you try to open it? When you're sick and tired of your own blog and your own voice and you sit there watching the words you're typing appear on the screen and the letters start to look for all the world like the secret silken cords wielded by murderous Thuggees?

I realize you're probably thinking, Okay, Niobe, whatevs. No one is actually forcing you to blog. And if you don't feel like it you can always, y'know, not.

Which is a perfectly legitimate point, so let me stop whining for a moment and ask you this: For you, what's the most difficult part of blogging? And do you ever read your own writing and wonder what you're really trying to say?

Bonus fun activity! (because I'm thoughtful like that): if you want to design your own warning label (and, perhaps, post it prominently on your blog) check out this site or perhaps this one.

transparency

2009-11-18T08:47:00.011-05:00

Someone once told me that glass, though it seems solid, is actually a very slow flowing liquid. If you examine the stained glass panels in medieval cathedrals, you'll find that they're slightly thicker on the bottom, supposedly showing how, over the centuries, the glass imperceptibly dripped from top to bottom.

However, while it turns out that the nature of glass is an improbably controversial (and, at least to me, all but impenetrable) topic, if it is a liquid, you certainly can't prove it by looking at old windows.

In fact, using the technologies of the time, medieval glass makers were simply unable to produce sheets of glass of a uniform thickness. And so they installed the glass thicker side downward because it balanced better that way.

And the moral of which is that, while, as Yogi Berra said, you can see a lot just by looking, sometimes what's most misleading is what's right in front of your eyes. It's like the marksman who amazed visitors by showing them a series of bullet holes in the side of his barn, each shot exactly in center of a bull's eye. When asked how he did it, he said, It's easy. You just fire a shot at the barn. And then you paint a target around it.

Have you ever been absolutely sure about something, but, you later learned, were totally, completely, entirely wrong?

hard choices

2009-11-16T10:26:00.008-05:00

So, here's a game that I stole from somewhere that requires only minimal thought and limited soul-searching. Which is about all I'm up for at the moment.

How to Play:

--The poster (in this case, me) asks an either/or question.

--The first commenter (which could, quite possibly, be you) answers the either/or question, then poses a question of her own in the same format (ex: Coke or Pepsi? Mac or PC? Beatles or Rolling Stones?)

--The second commenter answers the previous commenter's question, then poses one of her own.

--And so on and so on.

Easy, right? Why not give it a try?

And here's the first question: red or white?

eta: And, if like me, you had no idea what Katie meant when she said "daddy or chips," here's a link to the iconic ad

trompe l'oeil

2009-11-12T09:44:00.001-05:00

I was pushing the stroller across the big street down by the reservoir when one of the cars stopped at the red light rolled down a window and someone began to yell "Niobe! Niobe! N-i-oooobe!" I looked into the car and saw a guy about my age, big, balding, wearing scrubs, the steering wheel in one hand, a blackberry in the other.

"You don't know who I am," he said.

"Of course I do," I lied. "It's, um, been a long time."

"Twenty years," he said. "No, more than that. But I'd know you anywhere. You're just as beautiful as ever. You haven't changed a bit."

He asked for my email address and I gave it to him and kept walking. It was cold and it was going to rain and there was poison ivy twined around the reservoir's chain link fence. I stopped trying to remember who he was and considered what he'd said. And, true or not, it was what I most wanted to believe. Everything was different now, everything was gone or altered past all recognition, but I was exactly the same.

negative images

2009-11-10T10:13:00.001-05:00

The other day, I found a reference somewhere to a study purporting to demonstrate that being unhappy has a number of positive features -- making you less gullible and improving your judgment and memory. The experimenter induced happy or sad moods in his subjects through movies or by prompting recollections of past events and found that those in a negative mood were more critical of, and paid more attention to, their surroundings than happier people, who were more likely to believe anything they were told.

Interestingly enough, the study also found that sad people were better at crafting persuasive written arguments, concluding that a "mildly negative mood may actually promote a more concrete, accommodative and ultimately more successful communication style." Which, I suppose, may fit in with the frequently-made observation that negative posts often seem, not only more interesting to read, but easier to write. Or, to put it another way, (as Tolstoy almost said) happy blogs are all alike; every unhappy blog is unhappy in its own way.

Anyway, what's your mood today: :) or :( or some other emoticon altogether?

tell-tale heart

2009-11-06T08:24:00.007-05:00

At long last: the place where you can ease your conscience by telling us all your guilty secrets. You know you want to.*

As always, the rules are simple and few.

(1) Choose the anonymous comment option. (there are always a few people who fail to do this, so please double check before you hit publish)

(2) Leave your confession in the comments.

(3) If there are enough comments, I'll add a couple of confessions of my own. See if you can guess which ones they are.

And this isn't exactly a confession, but, while I've posted the above photo before, it's become one of my personal faves ever since Charmy pointed out the hidden valentine.

*Well, actually, I know there are some of you who, for reasons that I certainly understand, absolutely hate these confession posts. If you're one of them, just sit this one out and we'll see you on the flip side.

bottlefed

2009-11-05T09:46:00.007-05:00

The other day, I was checking the stats for my Flickr photo account and was ridiculously pleased to see that the above photo of Cole (taken back in June when he was just beginning to hold his own bottle) is featured on some obscure Portuguese language* parenting site.

And, kind of speaking of which, it occurs to me that tomorrow is the first Friday of the month and we haven't done one of those tell-all confession posts for a while. Therefore, I'm soliciting any and all ideas about what this month's confession theme (if any) should be.

Please, help me out. Leave a comment letting me know what genre of confession you'd most like to read and/or share and start thinking about what as-of-yet-unrevealed secrets you're going to reveal.

*Courtesy of Babel Fish, here's a translation into (more or less) English, which at least gives you the general idea of what they're talking about (hint: milk for suckles and of transistion)

there is such a thing as a tesseract

2009-11-03T09:44:00.001-05:00

I was a bookish and peevish and generally ill-natured child and one of the many, many things that annoyed me so much that it made me want to jump out of my skin was the part of Madeleine L'Engle's classic children's book, A Wrinkle in Time where our heroine, Meg, travels to a dimension far, far away and ends up on a planet controlled by an evil telepathatic force known as IT, with a capital I and a capital T.

IT captures Meg's little brother, Charles Wallace, and it's up to Meg to save him. She's trying everything she can think of, when, suddenly, she realizes that the way to rescue Charles Wallace is through the power of love. Love. That was what she had that IT did not have.

I read those words and wanted to rip the page into tiny little pieces. Even then I could see that anyone depending on my ability to love would be pretty much out of luck. It wasn't exactly that I didn't have a heart. It was just that it was two sizes too small. Minus the evil and telepathic elements, I had a lot more in common with IT than with Meg. And, while I knew that that wasn't supposed to be the point of the story, that was what it was whispering to me.

What book from your childhood had an unusually strong effect on you? And, if you know, why?

'round midnight

2009-10-31T14:47:00.004-04:00

Bright lights, big city and a very happy All Hallow's Eve!

And especially for Emily, here's the link for virtual pumpkin carving (with bonus eerie candle glow action!)

straight and narrow

2009-10-29T10:42:00.008-04:00

Apron Strings sent out a heartfelt plea to the universe at large and to me in particular for a map to guide her through the Slough of Despond (or, if you prefer to swipe your metaphors from children's board games rather than 17th century Christian allegories) the Molasses Swamp that is the who/whom distinction. Like, when are you supposed to use "who" and when are you supposed to use "whom?"

Now, I'm the first to admit that, while I have a perfectly adequate array of talents, grammar is, sadly, not among them. Nonetheless, I will share with you my time-tested, easy-to-apply, practically-never-fail who/whom rule. Ready? Cause here it is.

Unless you're absolutely, positively sure it's supposed to be "whom," you should always use "who."

Because if you use "who" when you really should be using "whom," you're incorrect.

But if you use "whom" when you really should be using "who," you're not only incorrect, but you also sound like a prissy grammar snob.* A prissy grammar snob who can't actually, y'know, use proper grammar.

hugs n kisses,
niobe

*Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Please feel free to add your own grammatical tips, tricks and pet peeves in the comments.