Munchkin-Approved:
Mariposa Traicionera - Maná
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
2006, 03/20 - Our Speed
Friday: Munchkin & I went shopping for clothes. (Mommy has new shoes! Yay! Happy Mommy!) Munchkin was in a great mood, and she was hilarious. (Not that I'm partial or anything.) She was trying out new vocabulary words on me--continually catching me off-guard and amusing us both. The highlight of the night was when she made me sit on the floor and be her audience as she gave a show in the middle of a store, singing and dancing her little heart out. She's usually painfully shy, so when she actually musters up the courage to be herself in public, I encourage it, as long as it's not bothering anyone.
Munchkin's greatest loves are singing and dancing, and her first ballet recital is later this summer... She's excited about dancing on the stage; I'm terrified she'll develop stage-fright and the experience will be ruined for her. Ahh, motherly anxiety...
Saturday: Munchkin & I attended a birthday party at a place called Pump It Up. This place is insane. Okay? Insane. Might be good for, like, thirty-year-olds, but my little preschooler and I were SO overwhelmed. Munchkin couldn't climb some of the things herself and would not accept help from anyone except me or another little girl. So I, being Super Mom, in my silky skirt and prissy thigh-highs complete with garter belt (panty hose suck, ok?), had to help her through the obstacle-tunnel and then go down the gigantic slide with her. (Luckily, she was sitting in my lap, so HOPEFULLY my skirt did not fly up too far. At the least, I have not yet come across any incriminating photographs.) The slide was terrifying; I refused to do it again. (Literally, it was terrifying, but, if anyone asks, I was simply upset about the amount of static introduced to my skirt, 'k?) Munchkin tried the slide again, this time by herself, but she cried afterward. And who can blame her? It was scary! Then she wanted to try the other giant slide, but when she got to the top, she chickened out and started crying. I had told her I wouldn't go down any more slides, and I held firm. (For heaven's sake, my bosses were there!) So one of the workers slid down with her. She cried. Then she wanted to try it again. Got to the top and started crying. Again. Everyone else left to have cake, and I was stuck alone in the room with the giant slide and a crying Munchkin screaming at me from the top. I climbed up to get her down, and she grabbed my hand and tried to pull me down the slide with her. She ended up letting go voluntarily and sliding herself, only to cry again when she reached the bottom. I climbed back down to console her. She wanted to go up again! (Why? Haven't fulfilled your tear-quota?) But our group's turn in the room was over, so I couldn't let her go up again and test herself. Really too bad. :(
So I am never going to that place again. Ever. With a skirt on. Ever. While my bosses are there with cameras. Never. Okay, thanks; I just needed to get that out.
Afterward, we were both drained. D-R-A-I-N-E-D. But we bucked-up, procured Munchkin's bicycle from her grandparents' house, and spent some time hanging out at a local playground. THAT is much more our speed.
Munchkin's dad has a sinus infection, so, after the park, we bought some groceries and went to his place and made him some chicken noodle soup. (And I swiped back all of my STUFF that he's been forgetting to return. Bastid!) While we were there, I got to watch television! Wow! TV! And, you know what? There was nothing on. Nothing. At all. My wallet and I felt so validated!
Sunday: We did nothing. Also very much our speed. ;)
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Saturday, March 04, 2006
2006, 03/04 - Quotes
1) We watched & sang & danced to "Singin' in the Rain" almost every night this week and several times this morning. It went back to the video store today, and when we got back home, we didn't quite know what to do with ourselves. We kept singing snippets to each other but weren't able to pop in the dvd for reference.
Mama: [perched on the edge of the couch, eyes sweeping the room] What are we going to do now, without "Singin' in the Rain"?
Munchkin: I don't know!
Mama: [sigh]
Munchkin: I miss it!
Mama: Me, too!
[dramatic sobbing, gnashing of teeth, etc, ok, not really]
2) Very cool Munchkin-quote, to a bossy classmate: "Just go do it yourself."
2b) It has come out that Munchkin, though shy, is no pushover with her classmates. She is occasionally bossy herself, and often assertive. When she's not sure, she just plays by herself.
2c) I am pleased to see that her natural personality ("choleric," ref: http://oneishy.com/personality/choleric_strengths.php) comes through in spite of her over-protected only-child shyness.
2d) My response to Munchkin's "very cool" quote: YOU GO, GIRL!
3) Random Munchkin-quote: "You're gonna be so excited, your foot's gonna blow off!"
Mama: [perched on the edge of the couch, eyes sweeping the room] What are we going to do now, without "Singin' in the Rain"?
Munchkin: I don't know!
Mama: [sigh]
Munchkin: I miss it!
Mama: Me, too!
[dramatic sobbing, gnashing of teeth, etc, ok, not really]
2) Very cool Munchkin-quote, to a bossy classmate: "Just go do it yourself."
2b) It has come out that Munchkin, though shy, is no pushover with her classmates. She is occasionally bossy herself, and often assertive. When she's not sure, she just plays by herself.
2c) I am pleased to see that her natural personality ("choleric," ref: http://oneishy.com/personality/choleric_strengths.php) comes through in spite of her over-protected only-child shyness.
2d) My response to Munchkin's "very cool" quote: YOU GO, GIRL!
3) Random Munchkin-quote: "You're gonna be so excited, your foot's gonna blow off!"
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Blogrolling.com
Hey, kids:
I don't post here often because I want to be careful not to give too many details about my kiddo.
For those of you who've been checking in multiple times daily (you flatter us), I recommend signing up with http://blogrolling.com/. It'll let you know when the blogs you list have been updated. (As long as they have enabled RSS-aggravatorialgravitygravydestabilizators--which I have.)
I don't post here often because I want to be careful not to give too many details about my kiddo.
For those of you who've been checking in multiple times daily (you flatter us), I recommend signing up with http://blogrolling.com/. It'll let you know when the blogs you list have been updated. (As long as they have enabled RSS-aggravatorialgravitygravydestabilizators--which I have.)
Monday, February 27, 2006
2006, 02/27 - Reese's
1. Turn off your computer and RUN/SPRINT/FLEE/FLY/SCRAMBLE to your local grocery store. The candy section. Find it! Hurry! Now, look for a yellow box or bag bearing the words: "Reese's Pieces GONE NUTS: PEANUTS and peanut butter!" If you cannot find this candy, track down the store manager and MUTILATE him/her!
1b. REESE'S PIECES WITH PEANUTS! O!M!G!
1c. Someone brought two boxes to work and left them in the snack room. Usually this means they are for general consumption, but I didn't bother to double-check. Those boxes are mine. And if more show up, they will be mine, too.
1d. And if I were an airport screener, I would allow you into the terminal with your handgun if you offered me a box of this candy.
2. I painted all weekend long. I hadn't painted in eons. Eons of eons. And you know what?
2b. Painting is like crack-cocaine.
2c. Actually, CREATING is like crack-cocaine. Any chance I get to CREATE something lately, I run with it. Painting, learning guitar, writing, trying a new recipe, whatever. I am enjoying CREATING as if it were sex. And creating via sex is fun, too, but that's not where I'm at right now.
3. Munchkin and I watched "Singin' in the Rain" about 50 times this weekend. We still like "An American in Paris" better, but... The first time you watch "Singin' in the Rain", you think, "Gawd, how corny!" Only, it gets better and better with every viewing, so that by the 30th viewing, you're ready to build a time machine so you can go back and have Gene Kelly's babies.
4. I'm not going to take a vow of celibacy or anything, but I am really enjoying my independence lately. Really, really, really.
5. My sinus infection is getting better, but Munchkin's is not. And her dad keeps giving her sugar, which only makes it worse. So I guess he can pay the doctor's bill.
5b. Munchkin also seems to be developing cavities. WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?
5c. PoorMunchkin. :(
5d. But she's doing spectacularly at school. She's beginning to get past her shyness and really make friends. ...I am swelling with a mixture of pride and relief.
5e. Children. Are. Spectacular.
1b. REESE'S PIECES WITH PEANUTS! O!M!G!
1c. Someone brought two boxes to work and left them in the snack room. Usually this means they are for general consumption, but I didn't bother to double-check. Those boxes are mine. And if more show up, they will be mine, too.
1d. And if I were an airport screener, I would allow you into the terminal with your handgun if you offered me a box of this candy.
2. I painted all weekend long. I hadn't painted in eons. Eons of eons. And you know what?
2b. Painting is like crack-cocaine.
2c. Actually, CREATING is like crack-cocaine. Any chance I get to CREATE something lately, I run with it. Painting, learning guitar, writing, trying a new recipe, whatever. I am enjoying CREATING as if it were sex. And creating via sex is fun, too, but that's not where I'm at right now.
3. Munchkin and I watched "Singin' in the Rain" about 50 times this weekend. We still like "An American in Paris" better, but... The first time you watch "Singin' in the Rain", you think, "Gawd, how corny!" Only, it gets better and better with every viewing, so that by the 30th viewing, you're ready to build a time machine so you can go back and have Gene Kelly's babies.
4. I'm not going to take a vow of celibacy or anything, but I am really enjoying my independence lately. Really, really, really.
5. My sinus infection is getting better, but Munchkin's is not. And her dad keeps giving her sugar, which only makes it worse. So I guess he can pay the doctor's bill.
5b. Munchkin also seems to be developing cavities. WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?
5c. PoorMunchkin. :(
5d. But she's doing spectacularly at school. She's beginning to get past her shyness and really make friends. ...I am swelling with a mixture of pride and relief.
5e. Children. Are. Spectacular.
Friday, February 24, 2006
2006, 02/24 - Friday!
It's FRIDAY!
Meaning I haven't seen my baby in person in TWO DAYS, and I miss her, and I get to see her as soon as this foolishly long work-day ends!
We've nearly worn-out our copy of "An American in Paris," so, tonight, I think we shall rent "Singin' in the Rain."
And, if someone could direct me on proper punctuation usage inside and around quotation marks, that would be great. They stop teaching grammar and punctuation after sixth grade, you know.
Meaning I haven't seen my baby in person in TWO DAYS, and I miss her, and I get to see her as soon as this foolishly long work-day ends!
We've nearly worn-out our copy of "An American in Paris," so, tonight, I think we shall rent "Singin' in the Rain."
And, if someone could direct me on proper punctuation usage inside and around quotation marks, that would be great. They stop teaching grammar and punctuation after sixth grade, you know.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
2006, 02/14 - Crappie Update
Pseudo-Update: I have been back to the grocery store at least three times already, and "CRAPPIE" Magazine has been nowhere to be seen.
2006, 02/14 - Baby
Four is a really difficult age. Four is Independence. Four is Entitlement. Four is Gimme, Gimme, Gimme.
There are episodes where Munchkin makes a request which must be denied, and her immediate response is to begin bawling or yelling. This only makes the denial more firm. A calm and considerate "Oh, please, Mommy?" would at least get a moment's consideration. The diva hissy fit of "PLEASE, PLEAAAAAASE!! YOU NEVER LET ME DO WHAT I WANT!" wins nothing but a Time-Out, and perhaps loss of a priviledge. It's getting repetitive. Can we move on to age five and be done with this lesson, please?
Of course there are good points to this age as well. Munchkin can do so many things by herself now. She can make her own peanut butter sandwich from start to clean-up. She can help with chores. She can wash herself. She can pick out her own clothes, dress herself, and come out looking completely coordinated. She can dig through her toybox without tossing toys everywhere. She can put things back where they belong. She can help me remember things.
And there are things, simply in her nature, that she has always been able to do, still does, and, most likely, will always be able to do. She has always been able to make me laugh. She has always been able to work a remote control (almost always!). She has always been ticklish. She has always been able to sing. She has always been able to dance. She still experiences the joy of simply being alive.
My four-year-old is still my baby, and she still lets me call her "my baby." She still loves to be held close and rocked. This is what we did tonight at bedtime. I held her in my arms and I rocked her. She leaned against me and smiled.
I sang the song/chant I made up for her when she was less than a week old. No one but us knows this song.
I watched her face in the dark. Same big, sparkling eyes, same eyelashes, same color hair, same eyebrows, same lips as when she was a baby. For a fleeting moment, she was that baby again. She is that baby. With the chunky thighs, chubby cheeks, pudgy fingers, huge cloth diaper. Look how big that baby is now. Her legs have stretched. Her hair is thick and long. Her ears have clogged (ha ha). She wears almost my same size hat--not the tiny, pink, stretchy, cotton caps anymore.
We've grown together.
When she was born, she and I had almost the same length of hair. We've grown our hair out together.
We're both different people now. We are both more mature. The love has not changed. It is full and constant. We make adjustments in ourselves--consciously on my part, less-so on her part--for each other.
I'll never be perfect. And she'll never be Sara Crewe from "A Little Princess." She is Munchkin. She is herself. She is perfectly herself.
I was once her. I was once a baby with chunky thighs, chubby cheeks, pudgy fingers. I had the same big, sparkling eyes and the same shaped eyebrows. Maybe I am perfectly myself, too.
There are episodes where Munchkin makes a request which must be denied, and her immediate response is to begin bawling or yelling. This only makes the denial more firm. A calm and considerate "Oh, please, Mommy?" would at least get a moment's consideration. The diva hissy fit of "PLEASE, PLEAAAAAASE!! YOU NEVER LET ME DO WHAT I WANT!" wins nothing but a Time-Out, and perhaps loss of a priviledge. It's getting repetitive. Can we move on to age five and be done with this lesson, please?
Of course there are good points to this age as well. Munchkin can do so many things by herself now. She can make her own peanut butter sandwich from start to clean-up. She can help with chores. She can wash herself. She can pick out her own clothes, dress herself, and come out looking completely coordinated. She can dig through her toybox without tossing toys everywhere. She can put things back where they belong. She can help me remember things.
And there are things, simply in her nature, that she has always been able to do, still does, and, most likely, will always be able to do. She has always been able to make me laugh. She has always been able to work a remote control (almost always!). She has always been ticklish. She has always been able to sing. She has always been able to dance. She still experiences the joy of simply being alive.
My four-year-old is still my baby, and she still lets me call her "my baby." She still loves to be held close and rocked. This is what we did tonight at bedtime. I held her in my arms and I rocked her. She leaned against me and smiled.
I sang the song/chant I made up for her when she was less than a week old. No one but us knows this song.
I watched her face in the dark. Same big, sparkling eyes, same eyelashes, same color hair, same eyebrows, same lips as when she was a baby. For a fleeting moment, she was that baby again. She is that baby. With the chunky thighs, chubby cheeks, pudgy fingers, huge cloth diaper. Look how big that baby is now. Her legs have stretched. Her hair is thick and long. Her ears have clogged (ha ha). She wears almost my same size hat--not the tiny, pink, stretchy, cotton caps anymore.
We've grown together.
When she was born, she and I had almost the same length of hair. We've grown our hair out together.
We're both different people now. We are both more mature. The love has not changed. It is full and constant. We make adjustments in ourselves--consciously on my part, less-so on her part--for each other.
I'll never be perfect. And she'll never be Sara Crewe from "A Little Princess." She is Munchkin. She is herself. She is perfectly herself.
I was once her. I was once a baby with chunky thighs, chubby cheeks, pudgy fingers. I had the same big, sparkling eyes and the same shaped eyebrows. Maybe I am perfectly myself, too.
Friday, February 10, 2006
2006, 02/10 - "Love Stories"
1. Munchkin stays with her dad most Wednesday and Thursday nights, as well as every other Saturday. Every Friday when I see her again, she seems to have grown an inch.
2. I had a song in my head. I did not sing it out loud. Out of the blue, Munchkin started singing it. We thought that was cool.
2b. The song, by the way, was "Skin Is, My" by Andrew Bird. A song that makes no sense.
3. HELPFUL HINT: When you have a cold, you may not be able to smell things. So when you buy a new jar of minced garlic, and you can't smell it, please don't assume you chose a lame brand and proceed to smother extra garlic on your sandwich. Especially because garlic will make your cold go away, and then you'll be able to smell everything.
4. This site doesn't have to be all about Munchkin-conversations, does it? Mommies have lives apart from their children, sometimes, right? So who wants to read my love story? Great! Here ya go:
Last night, right after work, I headed to the grocery store, where I was able to observe a rather nice-looking guy--no wedding ring, definitely mid-forties, in good shape, wearing business slacks and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I ended up behind him in the check-out line. He was looking at me, but I couldn't really see him because the sun was directly in my eyes. (Stupid, west-facing, glass-walled grocery store!--Although, with all that light shining directly at me, I probably appeared to be a red-headed 10-items-or-less-purchasing ANGEL!) I had to turn my face away from the sun, and, as I did, I caught sight of a magazine titled "CRAPPIE". It was a fishing magazine with really dopey-looking guys in a boat on the cover. I wondered if it was real, because it was next to all the feminine magazines, and this was so funny to me that I started smiling, and couldn't stop, and I looked like an idiot. But I was a happy idiot, right?
In an effort to stop smiling, I turned around and started looking at the nice-looking guy's purchases while I waited for free counter space. I decided he was definitely a recently-divorced bachelor; he was buying beer, donuts, some other stuff, and--*gasp*--the same brand of baby spinach leaves as I had in my hand! When I set my stuff on the counter, I knew he saw my spinach leaves, too. [He was definitely watching me, and I didn't even have ketchup on my face or anything! (I know, cuz I checked when I got home.)] We were ANONYMOUS SPINACH BUDDIES! HAWT! I wanted to comment, but I'm still sick and my throat was really dry; my voice has been coming and going randomly. So I remained silent. Silent and smiling about CRAPPIE Magazine--and smiling about smiling about CRAPPIE Magazine.
Anyway, he paid and left, then I paid and left. I saw him in the parking lot as I came out, putting away his grocery cart. He paused, looking in my direction. We were now too far apart for me to nonchalantly speak to him, so I just smiled and headed to my car. I managed to get out of the parking lot two cars ahead of him, and I saw that he had a little [secret color] car TOO! We were Anonymous Spinach Buddies AND Little [secret color] Car Pals!! Then we lost each other. It was over. *sob*
4b. Love Story #2: There was a really hot guy in the office today. REALLY hot. (Married, too! The bastard!) But SO HOT. HOTTTTTT. As I put in an email to Punky today:
2. I had a song in my head. I did not sing it out loud. Out of the blue, Munchkin started singing it. We thought that was cool.
2b. The song, by the way, was "Skin Is, My" by Andrew Bird. A song that makes no sense.
3. HELPFUL HINT: When you have a cold, you may not be able to smell things. So when you buy a new jar of minced garlic, and you can't smell it, please don't assume you chose a lame brand and proceed to smother extra garlic on your sandwich. Especially because garlic will make your cold go away, and then you'll be able to smell everything.
4. This site doesn't have to be all about Munchkin-conversations, does it? Mommies have lives apart from their children, sometimes, right? So who wants to read my love story? Great! Here ya go:
Last night, right after work, I headed to the grocery store, where I was able to observe a rather nice-looking guy--no wedding ring, definitely mid-forties, in good shape, wearing business slacks and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I ended up behind him in the check-out line. He was looking at me, but I couldn't really see him because the sun was directly in my eyes. (Stupid, west-facing, glass-walled grocery store!--Although, with all that light shining directly at me, I probably appeared to be a red-headed 10-items-or-less-purchasing ANGEL!) I had to turn my face away from the sun, and, as I did, I caught sight of a magazine titled "CRAPPIE". It was a fishing magazine with really dopey-looking guys in a boat on the cover. I wondered if it was real, because it was next to all the feminine magazines, and this was so funny to me that I started smiling, and couldn't stop, and I looked like an idiot. But I was a happy idiot, right?
In an effort to stop smiling, I turned around and started looking at the nice-looking guy's purchases while I waited for free counter space. I decided he was definitely a recently-divorced bachelor; he was buying beer, donuts, some other stuff, and--*gasp*--the same brand of baby spinach leaves as I had in my hand! When I set my stuff on the counter, I knew he saw my spinach leaves, too. [He was definitely watching me, and I didn't even have ketchup on my face or anything! (I know, cuz I checked when I got home.)] We were ANONYMOUS SPINACH BUDDIES! HAWT! I wanted to comment, but I'm still sick and my throat was really dry; my voice has been coming and going randomly. So I remained silent. Silent and smiling about CRAPPIE Magazine--and smiling about smiling about CRAPPIE Magazine.
Anyway, he paid and left, then I paid and left. I saw him in the parking lot as I came out, putting away his grocery cart. He paused, looking in my direction. We were now too far apart for me to nonchalantly speak to him, so I just smiled and headed to my car. I managed to get out of the parking lot two cars ahead of him, and I saw that he had a little [secret color] car TOO! We were Anonymous Spinach Buddies AND Little [secret color] Car Pals!! Then we lost each other. It was over. *sob*
4b. Love Story #2: There was a really hot guy in the office today. REALLY hot. (Married, too! The bastard!) But SO HOT. HOTTTTTT. As I put in an email to Punky today:
He's HERE!
Omg, still hot. Really hot. Damn hot. *thumping foot* *droooooling*
Sunday, January 29, 2006
2006, 01/29 - Crack Whores and Cheese
Munchkin: I'd like some more crackers, please.
Mama: Ok.
Munchkin: [singing mindlessly] Crackers and cheese... crack-hors and cheeeese... crack-hors and cheeeeeese...
Mama: Crack-ERS!
Munchkin: [continuing] Crack whores and cheeeese...
Mama: Stop saying that!
Munchkin: [looking at Mama funny]
Mama: Ok.
Munchkin: [singing mindlessly] Crackers and cheese... crack-hors and cheeeese... crack-hors and cheeeeeese...
Mama: Crack-ERS!
Munchkin: [continuing] Crack whores and cheeeese...
Mama: Stop saying that!
Munchkin: [looking at Mama funny]
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
2006, 01/25 - Divorce, Death, Boogerheadedness
Munchkin Initially Rejected:
For Once In My Life - Harry Connick, Jr
Munchkin Approved After Much Mommy-Peer-Pressure:
For Once In My Life - Harry Connick, Jr
Munchkin: What if Daddy gets married and I don't like the new mommy?
Mama: Don't worry; Daddy would never marry someone you didn't like. And anyway, I'll always be your super best number one mommy, and I'll always be here to take care of you.
Munchkin: Step-mommy?
Mama: No, I'll always be your number one mommy, because you came from my tummy.
Munchkin: You won't be my mommy after you die!
Mama: Yes, I will always be your mommy. After I die, I will still be your mommy. I won't be here, but you'll feel me in your heart.
Munchkin: [with a mischievous gleam in her eye] What do you mean? Does that mean you'll be beating on my heart and scratching it?
For Once In My Life - Harry Connick, Jr
Munchkin Approved After Much Mommy-Peer-Pressure:
For Once In My Life - Harry Connick, Jr
Munchkin: What if Daddy gets married and I don't like the new mommy?
Mama: Don't worry; Daddy would never marry someone you didn't like. And anyway, I'll always be your super best number one mommy, and I'll always be here to take care of you.
Munchkin: Step-mommy?
Mama: No, I'll always be your number one mommy, because you came from my tummy.
Munchkin: You won't be my mommy after you die!
Mama: Yes, I will always be your mommy. After I die, I will still be your mommy. I won't be here, but you'll feel me in your heart.
Munchkin: [with a mischievous gleam in her eye] What do you mean? Does that mean you'll be beating on my heart and scratching it?
Saturday, January 21, 2006
2006, 01/20 - Booger Hat
We like to make impromptu recordings on my cell phone; here's a transcript of the latest:
Munchkin: I'm wearing a booger-hat here, you've noticed.
Mommy: Yes, I have noticed your booger-hat! It's lovely; where did you get it?
Munchkin: I got it from my mommy and my daddy.
Mommy: Oh, where did they get it from?
Munchkin: My mommy and daddy got it from their nose.
Munchkin: I'm wearing a booger-hat here, you've noticed.
Mommy: Yes, I have noticed your booger-hat! It's lovely; where did you get it?
Munchkin: I got it from my mommy and my daddy.
Mommy: Oh, where did they get it from?
Munchkin: My mommy and daddy got it from their nose.
2006, 01/19 - Mommy Met Dave Barry
Munchkin: Ew, that's disgusting! Why did he hug you? You don't even know him; he's not your friend!
Mommy: He's very nice! And I know of him; he's very famous!
Munchkin: What do you mean?
Mommy: He's famous; a lot of people know him!
Munchkin: Well of course a lot of people know him! I know [about] him, too! A lot of people know ME, too; I go to preschool! And everybody knows me there! Everybody knows everybody; we'll ALL be famous!
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
2006, 01/10 - Music
A.
Munchkin (and Mama)-Approved:
Wonderboy - Tenacious D
Munchkin-Denied:
Mama singing "Wonderboy" over and over and over again, and then singing it some more
B.
Munchkin-Approved:
Musicology - Prince (he's back to that now, right?)
Munchkin-Rejected:
Copacabana - Barry Mani-NO! (I'd never heard it all the way through, so we gave it a listen; with NO prompting from me, she insisted the song be stopped right away. 'So proud!)
Munchkin (and Mama)-Approved:
Wonderboy - Tenacious D
Munchkin-Denied:
Mama singing "Wonderboy" over and over and over again, and then singing it some more
B.
Munchkin-Approved:
Musicology - Prince (he's back to that now, right?)
Munchkin-Rejected:
Copacabana - Barry Mani-NO! (I'd never heard it all the way through, so we gave it a listen; with NO prompting from me, she insisted the song be stopped right away. 'So proud!)
Monday, January 09, 2006
2006, 01/09 - Music
Munchkin-Approved:
Feel Good - Gorillaz
King Tut - Steve Martin
Munchkin-Denied:
Mellow Yellow - Donovan
Feel Good - Gorillaz
King Tut - Steve Martin
Munchkin-Denied:
Mellow Yellow - Donovan
Friday, January 06, 2006
2006, 01/06b - Weird Al
Do you remember "The Weird Al Show"? On CBS, Sunday mornings? In 1997?
I skipped teaching my Sunday School class of first graders at least once so I could watch it. ...Good times...
Well, I remember it, and that's what counts. And it's coming to DVD this year, people!
For your salivary pleasure, a "clip" (from IMDB.com):
Announcer: If you thought there were no more natural disasters left to make a movie about, you thought wrong. 60% Chance of Rain, the most horrifying new movie of the season. The weather got out of hand.
Mayor: We can't go starting a panic, not during tourist season!
Announcer: Only one man had the courage--
Deputy Al: Mr. Mayor, I don't care what happens to your tourist season! Someone needs to tell these people that they might need a jacket!
Announcer: To bring Mother Nature to her knees...
Deputy Al: C'mon, people, let's go! Everybody in the rec room! We don't know what we're in for. C'mon inside, everybody!
Announcer: When the barometric pressure increases, so does the terror.
Boy: So we don't even know if it's gonna rain?
Deputy Al: No, son, we don't.
Announcer: 60% Chance of Rain. Coming soon to a theater near you, maybe.
I practically wet my pants reading that. (Practically?) That's comedy, people. (The pants wetting?) Shut up.
I skipped teaching my Sunday School class of first graders at least once so I could watch it. ...Good times...
Well, I remember it, and that's what counts. And it's coming to DVD this year, people!
For your salivary pleasure, a "clip" (from IMDB.com):
Announcer: If you thought there were no more natural disasters left to make a movie about, you thought wrong. 60% Chance of Rain, the most horrifying new movie of the season. The weather got out of hand.
Mayor: We can't go starting a panic, not during tourist season!
Announcer: Only one man had the courage--
Deputy Al: Mr. Mayor, I don't care what happens to your tourist season! Someone needs to tell these people that they might need a jacket!
Announcer: To bring Mother Nature to her knees...
Deputy Al: C'mon, people, let's go! Everybody in the rec room! We don't know what we're in for. C'mon inside, everybody!
Announcer: When the barometric pressure increases, so does the terror.
Boy: So we don't even know if it's gonna rain?
Deputy Al: No, son, we don't.
Announcer: 60% Chance of Rain. Coming soon to a theater near you, maybe.
I practically wet my pants reading that. (Practically?) That's comedy, people. (The pants wetting?) Shut up.
2006, 01/06 - CPR
Fun night tonight:
1) We love french bread. Love, love, love it. Mommy loves to dip it in olive oil with garlic salt & italian spices. Munchkin loves it plain, as long as the crust is good and crunchy. But the best part of having french bread is feeding the stale crumbs to whatever wildlife (birds?) lurks on the grass below our balcony, which Munchkin did tonight.
She donned her heavy coat and braved the near-freezing Georgia cold (ha ha, I know) while I huddled under my laptop to perform the post-dinner email check.
After she had done her Good Deed for the Day, she held the door open and called out, "ENJOY YOUR DINNER, BIRDS! GOOD NIGHT!" and blew them kisses and hugs.
2) Munchkin, on playing with a folded-up stroller: "How do you get this situated?"
3) "Mommy, you be the hospital-man. Um, hospital-man? My piggy got his knee scraped. And he died. You're not supposed to be laughing! You're supposed to be sad! ...You have to put oxygen through his mouth."
So I gave the piggy a bandage, a blood transfusion, and an oxygen tube up his nostrils. Then I told him to take it easy, and handed him back to his best friend. (She's not his mother; she's his best friend, she says.)
The verdict? "He's still dead!"
So I gave the piggy a new bandage, checked his pulse, administered CPR, and handed Munchkin a bill for $1,000,000, which she apparently paid in cash.
Oops, piggy scraped his leg again. And he doesn't have a pulse. And my CPR isn't working, so I showed her how to beat the heck out of his chest. She's having fun with that now.
4) "OW! You poked my eye!"
"Oh! I'm sorry, Sweetie!"
[she starts complain-crying (no tears)]
"Are you sure I poked it? I didn't feel any gooey eyeball slush on my hand!"
[complain-cry turns into a giggle]
Tonight:
Munchin-Approved:
Shout - Isley Brothers ("You head-shake, too, Mama!")
Tutti Frutti - Little Richard ("Yum!")
In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry
Good Golly Miss Molly - Little Richard
Superstition - Stevie Wonder
Munchkin-Rejected:
Under the Boardwalk - The Drifters ("not fast enough")
1) We love french bread. Love, love, love it. Mommy loves to dip it in olive oil with garlic salt & italian spices. Munchkin loves it plain, as long as the crust is good and crunchy. But the best part of having french bread is feeding the stale crumbs to whatever wildlife (birds?) lurks on the grass below our balcony, which Munchkin did tonight.
She donned her heavy coat and braved the near-freezing Georgia cold (ha ha, I know) while I huddled under my laptop to perform the post-dinner email check.
After she had done her Good Deed for the Day, she held the door open and called out, "ENJOY YOUR DINNER, BIRDS! GOOD NIGHT!" and blew them kisses and hugs.
2) Munchkin, on playing with a folded-up stroller: "How do you get this situated?"
3) "Mommy, you be the hospital-man. Um, hospital-man? My piggy got his knee scraped. And he died. You're not supposed to be laughing! You're supposed to be sad! ...You have to put oxygen through his mouth."
So I gave the piggy a bandage, a blood transfusion, and an oxygen tube up his nostrils. Then I told him to take it easy, and handed him back to his best friend. (She's not his mother; she's his best friend, she says.)
The verdict? "He's still dead!"
So I gave the piggy a new bandage, checked his pulse, administered CPR, and handed Munchkin a bill for $1,000,000, which she apparently paid in cash.
Oops, piggy scraped his leg again. And he doesn't have a pulse. And my CPR isn't working, so I showed her how to beat the heck out of his chest. She's having fun with that now.
4) "OW! You poked my eye!"
"Oh! I'm sorry, Sweetie!"
[she starts complain-crying (no tears)]
"Are you sure I poked it? I didn't feel any gooey eyeball slush on my hand!"
[complain-cry turns into a giggle]
Tonight:
Munchin-Approved:
Shout - Isley Brothers ("You head-shake, too, Mama!")
Tutti Frutti - Little Richard ("Yum!")
In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry
Good Golly Miss Molly - Little Richard
Superstition - Stevie Wonder
Munchkin-Rejected:
Under the Boardwalk - The Drifters ("not fast enough")
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