Friday, December 19, 2008
Snappy was overjoyed. "Mommy's bum! Mommy's bum!" She squealed as she paddled my butt with the same fervor that I often do to her cute little tushie. Too be fair, I'm not often naked...even in front of myself, so this might have been the first time she realized Mommy even had a bum. I glanced over at her as I was returning to my naturally clothed state. The look on her face confirmed my suspicions...she working out a very complicated mathmatical equation in her head. Mommy + Bum =... She almost had it. Suddenly, eyes gleeful in her Eureeka moment, she blurted out, "Mommy poops!"
Merry Christmas. Don't say I never gave you anything.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I feel I must start chronicling these phases because it occurs to me that they aren't going to last forever. For example, the "animal" phase where she had to sleep with, be with and carry an armload of stuffed animals at all times, is petering out. I can't say that I'll really miss that phase all that much because it was hard to get her out of the house since she couldn't hold all her treasures and walk down the stairs at the same time. Still, it made me laugh and I got some cute pictures.
Sigh. Oh well. Thankfully, she still sleeps with them:
Not pictured, but all, somehow also crammed in the crib with her: Peacock, baseball teddy bear, Janice, Big Dora, Little Dora, Sonic, Ming Ming, Other Ming Ming, sheep who wears a jacket, hula Spongebob, Mister Crabs, Gary, Hello Kitty, The Pigeon Book and the trio of multi-culti baby dolls that sleep at the foot of the crib.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I've been thinking about Christmas Miracles lately. Glide ran out of food bags for the first time ever yesterday. Innocent children are getting sick...and staying sick. An old lady died in an apartment fire on Nob Hill the other morning. It seems that if you really, really need a miracle, tough shit, you won't get one. (Unless by "miracle" you mean "dead ticket", then you can get all you need...in 1990.)I don't dare hope for miracles anymore. I've developed a painful, paranoid faux-Buddhist need to live in the moment lest I spend every moment worrying about the possibility of not outliving Snappy. The upside is that I've developed a faux-Buddhist appreciation for "The Moment".
Okay, this is going to sound like something I made up for shmaltz sake, but I didn't. I swear. My favorite Christmas present ever was a hairdryer. I was 12 or 13, and I was just getting into stuff like that. I really wanted a hairdryer, but I didn't say anything. I'm not sure why, but we didn't ask for gifts, but just hoped for the best. When it came to clothes, my mom was sure to by the ugliest thing to ever hang on a sale rack, but with everything else she was spot on...buying lots of fun toys when we were little and make-up for my sister and I and rock magazines for my brother when we were teens. I didn't ask for a hair dryer, but all my friends had them, they made lots of noise and provided big, fluffy hair that was the style at the time. After I had opened my presents, I eyed the beautiful Con-air 3 speed and said, "we got a lot of stuff this year." I don't remember, maybe we did, maybe we didn't, but I got a hairdryer, so, in my mind, I made out. My mother said, "no, I only spent about 25 bucks on each of you." I was floored. I was sure hairdryer alone must be worth at least 50 bucks. I didn't believe her.
Now, of course, I realize that it was our poorest Christmas ever. My mom was single and waiting tables at a Chinese restaurant. She had no money, no husband, a mortgaged house with a failing furnace, 3 kids, a bunch of cats and dogs and then, one 9.99 hairdryer bought at CVS had hit a homerun and became the best Christmas present ever. If that isn't a Christmas miracle, I don't know what is.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Oh dear! Oh my!
No cymbal crashes.
And, this is not so much a runner-up as it is an alternate number 1, everytime I wash her face or do something else she doesn't want me to do she says, "Help me Spiderman! Sling some webs.".
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
10. Don't worry, unicorn.
9. Where's my Grouchy Monster?
8. The puma eats a snack.
7. Hello Jackhammer. I want to talk to you!
6. Weee! Woo hoo!
5. Don't swear.
4. I'm swearing!
3. Silly coffee maker/vacuum cleaner! What are you doing here?
(it must be noted that Snaps is terrified of the vacuum cleaner and the coffee maker.)
2. Don't cry anymore, Hello Kitty.
Yeah. That's right. Hello. No, you don't understand, see, whenever Snappy is caught doing something she ought not to, she dances over to me and, doing an amazingly accurate imatation of a Monty Python housewife, says "Hellooooooooooo! Hi mum!"
Next up: the runner ups.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
As you might know, Snappy has been in speech therapy for the past few months. It's been doing wonders for her vocabulary and grammar, but almost nothing for her pronunciation. (Which is why we're pretty darned sure that we're in for a second palate surgery...hence the sadness.) I told the speech therapist early on that I was afraid that when she did start talking, it'd be just a string of swear words, and he said, "yeah. That happens with these kids."
Makes sense, when you think about it. If your toddler isn't talking, then they don't repeat everything you say, if they don't repeat everything you say, you don't watch what you say because, even though you know you should, you don't get any negative reinforcement when you do swear (i.e. a little potty mouth running around the playground, shocking grannies). Parents are a lot like children. They too need positive and negative reinforcement.
And without it...well, let's just say that for a while now, I've suspected that Snappy has been saying F You! Now, I knew she'd been saying shit because she said it five times when I accidently dropped her Goldfish crackers into the cat's water dish. Hey, at least she used it correctly. But she was also, with quite the sneaky little gleam in her eye, saying something that sounded a lot like Uck OO. Hmm. What to do? I can't tell her not to swear if she's not swearing. So I had to tread lightly.
"Snappy, are you saying Achoo?"
"No," She said giggling. "Not achoo!"
"Are you saying Got you?"
That's when she squealed, "Uck you, La-ee!"
Ah ha. Oh yes. I know where she heard that. Many times. All over the city. From her mother, who thinks many ladies need to go uck themselves and has a hard time keeping her mouth shut when she encounters one. Oh boy.
I didn't know what to do then, but a few days later, at the grocery store, in the middle of a tantrum, I told Snappy she couldn't have some candy, and she screamed "Uck Oo! Uck Oo! Uck Oo!" It was strange. I found myself actually being glad that Snappy's 1st palate repair had left her with a palate too short to allow for proper pronunciation of plosives like p, b and good ol' F! Having the tantrumy child in the grocery store is one thing, having a filthy mouthed tantrum thrower is yet another. I hugged her, kissed the top of her head and said, "Oh Snappy, that's really naughty. You can't do that." She stopped.
I guess my days of swearing at ladies are over. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted. Damn b words had it coming.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Well, maybe she's matured. After all, the kitty cat story made her cry when she was one and a half. She's nearly two and a half now. She plays intricate imagination games with her dolls and animals, she makes up wild stories about the owl, puma and Moll Moll, she sings Twinkle Twinkle Little star on the potty, she sits on a potty, she talks in full sentences, she answers questions in full sentences, she makes demands in full sentences, she swears! and she has trouble deciding whether to be a witch or a pirate for Halloween...such a grown-up problem. Such a big girl! Surely, she no longer cries when the kitty gets his paw pinched by the crab. Surely she's past that.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Our first day there, we arrived to find that our room wasn't ready. We were disappointed. We left our stuff with the bell hops...and wandered around..until we wandered outside...and there it was...in the middle of this strange tourist trap...Waikiki Beach. I heard Polynesian rhythms in my head as I watched a group of people row a native-style canoe in the pale blue surf. So this was it. This was Hawaii...not a secluded waterfall in the middle of a rain forest, but one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen set straight across a busy city street.
Because the good people who designed the beach were smart enough to put in a wave wall,so that kids could swim without having to fear for their lives (ahem! Ocean Beach!) We were able to take Snappy down to the water, only to discover that Snappy had developed (along with her new stranger anxiety) a fear of water and wanted nothing to do with it and ran around the beach, knowing full well that we would chase after her. Oh yeah...did I tell you it was a record -breaking heat wave? Yeah, people from Hawaii were complaining about the heat. We were accustomed to life in a fog bank...the last thing we wanted to do was chase a two-year old in the mid-morning sun around the beach.
So, I took her to the pool. Still the blazing sun, still the searing heat, but it had something the ocean did not: steps! I sat her down on the first step and told her to splash in the water. She did this for awhile and then I suggested she try the next step. She did it! I decided to push my luck and try for the next step. At first, she seemed game, but then she balked...and bolted. I caught her just before she went sprinting across the slick tile. I started over again. Slower this time.
The whole process repeated itself a few times before I remembered that Snappy's speech therapist said we should make motor boat noises for her. "Snappy, would you like a motor boat ride?" She shook her head. No she did not. I grabbed her by the waist and spun her in the water Bbbbbbbbrrrbbbrrrbbbbb! Snappy's expression turned from fear to anger to surprise to joy!
"Swim! Swim!" She said.
"That's right! Snappy's swimming. Just like the ducks!" We ventured out into the pool.
"Swim! Swim!" Snappy said at the 5 foot mark, pushing at my arms. It was then that I realized that by "swim swim" she meant "Yes, mom, I've got this swimming thing down. You can let go now. Come on. Let go! Oh for Chrissakes mom, you've got to cut the apron strings sometime."
Much to Snappy's mild annoyment, I did not let go, but I did take our little Swim Swim show on the road. Technically...across the road. To Waikiki beach, where we spent many sunscreen-covered hours splashing and saying stuff like "swim! swim!" and "Bbbbbbbbrrrbbbrrrbbbbb!" Oh...and losing wedding rings, but that's no where near as important as the swimming.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
I know I owe many blogs about how cute Snappy is, and believe me, those are coming, but I'm going to Blog about our big trip to Hawaii for the next couple days. The first installment I like to call "Getting There" or "The Horror. The Horror.".
We started Wednesday am like gangbusters. We woke up Snappy at 6:30 am. It was about 4 hours too early to be getting up by her clock, but we told her we were going to get on a plane and she sprung into action: ready for adventure.
And all was great. We flew Hawaiian Airlines, which precludes the big in-flight entertainment feature presentation (Drillbit Taylor) with lovely, bucolic scenes of Hawaii. Snappy enjoyed this, saying things like "hey fish" and "eat grass" (that last comment came when she saw a horse eating grass...genius!).
A few hours later, it came to pass that I, who had delegated walking-the-high-energy-toddler-up-and-down-the-aisle duty to Dad for the entire flight (there and back, but sh. He doesn't know that, yet.), got the first poopy diaper duty. I changed it in the tiny ass bathroom like the seasoned pro I am. I of course had an extra pair of much-needed pajama bottoms (stupid leaky safeway brand diapers) and plenty of extra wipes to clean up her car seat (while holding a two-year old under my arm like a clutch purse, of course). I resisted the urge to run up and down the aisle, pumping my fist and singing Queen's We are the Champions (with the lyric we are changed to I am.
After a bit of a rough patch (aka full-blown tantrum). I pulled yet another miracle out of my pocket (aka a Big Big World DVD). "Ook!" Snappy exclaimed, And just like that...tantrum over. The miracles continued as Snappy fell asleep just as the words "dangerously low battery" flashed across the screen. Ha! I laugh at danger.
She looks cute, but she's stinking up the entire plane.
Or I did. That is until two agonizing hours before the flight ended, I realized that my sleeping beauty was, yet again, sitting in a puddle of what, for potty-training purposes, we'll call pee-pee. There was also obviously (and not just to me) some poopy. I wasn't going to wake her...oh no...I'd sooner pull on Superman's cape while simultaneously spitting into the wind, pulling the Lone Ranger's mask off and messing around with Jim than to wake a sleeping toddler on an airplane.
When the plane touched down, like a couple of secret ops on a kill-or-be-killed mission, Dad and I managed to get her out of her car seat and into the broom-closet-sized bathroom before the remove-your-seatbelts ding had fully dinged. I still had plenty of wipes, but no more bottoms, so I threw a pajama top on her legs and hoped no one would notice...and possibly inform the autorities.
Enough blogging...I'm in Hawaii, dammit!
Next...Snappy rules the pool.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Make sure all words are spelled correctly.
Try different keywords.
Try more general keywords.
Try fewer keywords.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
But this wasn't nothing. This was West Coast v East Coast, and, in an unprecedented move, a West Coast wimp leveled the first blow. Shocking! I simply had to fire back. My honor as a New Englander (for the first 27 years of my life anyways) was at stake. Now, I know some of you who know me will point out that I not only married a West Coaster, but I gave birth to one. But as the only non-native San Franciscan in the family, I feel I have to represent.
Take my grandmother (still alive, by the way). She's from South Carolina, but lived most of her life in the Boston area, The South Shore mostly. Still, she never lost her accent, never stopped doing weird Southern (I assume)things like putting mint jelly on toast and always made cornbread with her Boston Baked Beans, instead of the traditional brown bread*. She held on so tight to her roots, that I, a true-blue 5th generation New Englander, brought up to believe that everywhere south of Connecticut is exactly like Deliverance, believed (and still do a bit) that South Carolina was the best, prettiest, most refined, and plain old kick-ass (my words not Gram's) state in the whole country.
That is how I hope Snappy will someday feel about New Hampshire...and maybe even the South Shore...hm, that might be asking too much. New Hampshire definitely...and Cape Cod maybe? Who are these Patriots you speak of and why do you expect me to cheer for them?
But I'm getting ahead of myself, back to the Coffee Battle waged mainly by me and some intern at the SF Chronicle. I was checking in on SF Gate, because truth be told, I was up at 3 AM because I was freaking out about preschools and I was going to see if they had any resources. Then I saw this:
Oh really? A blind unbiased taste test for the five spoiled, organic fair-trade farmer hugging West Coast office workers who just happened not to be telecommuting that day? And none of them like Dunkin Donuts coffee? Quel surprise, Ivy League. Dunkins is not for you or for anyone who spells donuts with an "ugh". I maturely responded with this (for some strange, sleep-deprived reason, I mentioned Brains...that's Brains the beer....not the organ.) :
"I find three holes in your supposedly fool proof plan:
Firstly of all, just like, you know, the further from Wales you get...the yuckier the Brains. It's like that with DD coffee the further you get from Boston.
Also, you can't test Dunkin's coffee on spoiled office workers. This is a diner brew that only Truckers, beat cops and gumshoes can test.
And lastly, what did you drink it with a low-fat scone or something pansy-ish like that? No. No. No. You have to drink it with a cruller. A cruller! Eh. Spoiled West Coast office workers don't even know what a cruller is."
Of course, I expected the other New Englanders still awake to put the smackdown on these bean snobs, but no...just someone who likes to eat French crullers (okay, but yuck) a jerk who thinks California has better pizza than NY (yeah, and Noah's makes bagels...not one-holed puffy bread rolls) and a moron who thought that Dunkins default coffee preperation is cream and sugar. Moron. I had to clarify:
"Oh. And Dunkins does NOT autimatically add cream and sugar. It's just that for some strange reason West Coasters order regular coffee. Why? If you don't say regular, do you think you're going to get decaf...against your will??? In New England, regular means "with cream and sugar". We thought it safe to give regular a meaning because we figured no one would be dumb enough to just add extra words all willy-nilly like to their coffee order."
Am I crazy? Or just a New Englander who will never be a Californian but will never ever leave the Sunset district of San Francisco? Sigh. Oh well. Maybe the next time I'm awake at 4am, it'll be to catch the Sox game opener in Japan. Where I'm sure Daisuke will beat the freash-roasted stuffing out of the As.
*Brown Bread is a molasses bread baked in a tin can. It can have raisins or not and it is DELICIOUS.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Snappy has a new crush: Spongebob Squarepants. Which is cuter than it sounds because Snaps knows 5 words. One of them is meow and the other is yeah. So I can show off her genius by saying things like "Snappy, do you like Spongebob?"
Me: Who's your favorite character?
Me: Gary, huh? What about the pirate?
Snappy puts her hand over one eye. (She made that sign up herself. She's made up lots signs, but how often is she really going to need to use a sign for "pirate"? Maybe she's not the genius I thought she was.)
Luggage Tuesdays presents:
"My Blog Live: Online Onstage"
Live performances from Bay Area blogs Good Crafternoon!, Geek Girl Daily, Easy Rider: Strolling in SF, and Luggage Tuesdays
WHEN: Tuesday, March 25, 2008 @ 8pm
WHERE: Stage Werx 533 Sutter Street, San Francisco
TICKETS: $12 at the door
INFO: Mike Spiegelman, firstname.lastname@example.org
San Francisco, Ca. - "My Blog Live" kicks off an ongoing series of live performances from the people behind the sites. This live show highlights the variety of genres and personal voices found on blogs, with performances of new pieces and previous posts from four Bay Area bloggers:
Erikka Innes, Geek Girl Daily, Geek Blog
Host of "Geek Comedy Night" at Rooster T. Feather's, comedian Erikka Innes is no stranger to geekiness.
Melinda Bailey, Easy Rider: Strolling in SF, Mommy Blog
Professional SF guide with Foot Tours, Melinda Bailey writes about strolling with Snappy throughout the City.
Leslie "Miss Dottie" Van Every, Good Crafternoon, Crafts Blog
Leslie Van Every writes about knitting, sewing, and searching through the Alameda Flea Market.
Mike Spiegelman, Luggage Tuesdays, Humor Blog
Comedian Mike Spiegelman presents readings and sketches about family restaurant menu parodies, phone books send-ups, Superman boners, and jokes about salad.
My Blog Live runs Tuesday, March 25 @ 8pm at Stage Werx 533 Sutter Street, between Powell and Mason, San Francisco.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
What could be wrong? She seemed so full of angst! Was she wondering why that toddler didn't want to play with her that one time? Or did she finally realize that the cat really doesn't like her? Is she contemplating the existence of Mom? Or...Oh no! Is it some terrible disease that only House can diagnose after about an hours worth of dramatic content?
She decided to take a nap on my shoulder. I continued to worry. Suddenly! She lifted her head. She looked at me with eyes that said "Emergency! Call 9-11! I've done it before, I'll show you how!" Then she puked all over me.
I felt a little dumb for not figuring it out the first time, but I guess that the angsty world-shattering pathos of an unwanted pregnancy during the teen years is probably the same as a bit of an upset tummy during the toddler years.
Here are my treatments for the Juno Flu (patent pending)
Water, kitty, puke sheet, Yo Gabba Gabba
Dry toast, crayons, more water, more Yo Gabba Gabba
Lots and lots of rest
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Red Vic peeps were kind enough to realize that the crazy lady wearing pajamas and curlers in her hair standing outside with a toddler and a cellphone must be an invited guest and let us in. We were offered an array of breakfast treats including new-to-snappy treats: Pop Tarts and Fruit Loops. She couldn't believe her luck. She thought it was Halloween and Christmas all rolled into one. She calls this new holiday Brunchmasween.
So yes, Snaps is 20 months, not exactly prime movie watching age, but she did AWESOME! Okay, first she tripped in the dark and cried, but hey, who doesn't cry when they fall on their face? After that (and a brief trip to replenish the Fruit Loop supply) she did AWESOME. We sat on the stairs in the back, so she wasn't required to sit. That was key for the awesomeness. And the awesomeness was, indeed, awesome. She laughed when everyone else laughed. Clapped when everyone else clapped. Danced to all the music (even the Big Shoe Dance) and made kissy noises at the big Morgan Fairchild/ PW Herman love scene. Everyone agreed she had great timing (Snappy, not Morgan Fairchild...but she was okay). I think all movie theaters should have a run-around area (or in Snappy's case: twirl around) for toddlers.
Afterwards, me and Dadmonster carried her 12 blocks (it might have been 8, but I was promised 4...so the extra grumbling made it feel longer). Despite the fact that it was The Haight (home of the Red Guy), everyone stared at us. This made me realize we needed to take pictures. Note the sugar crash in this picture...and that Snappy is still clutching an empty bowl that once held her beloved TREASURE (aka Fruit Loops)!
Friday, February 15, 2008
Snappy hung out with Grandpa so we could do this weird thing called "going out". We went to a Vietnamese American Diner called...something like...The Americano Cafe. Being Americanos, we ordered the onion rings...not as good as the grilled cheese...and they have Iced Ovaltine!!! How cool is that?
Next, we went to Hocky Haven for a lovely cocktail. I had two sips of my Jack on the rocks and abandoned it because it was Jim Beam. Why do bars put Jim in the Jack bottle? Do they think we won't notice? We ALL notice. Nuts to Hockey Haven.
Then, best of all, We hit The Balboa for Juno. Which would be my favorite movie I've seen in years, even if I actually had seen a movie in years, and even if Bleeker weren't based on my college boyfriend. Thundercats Ho!
In Snapptastic news, Snappy has been relying upon me a little too heavily to label her world, still I must be doing something right because she sniffs all flowers and gives all cats kisses and treats (aaa-umph). She has perfected dance moves: the twirl, the thigh slap, the stompy-stomp, but is still working on the moonwalk. Oh, and just this morning she perfected the assisted hand stand.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Not Cute: At 20 months, she is fully aware of the capabilities of TiVo (come on...she's not 19 months anymore) and demands that I replay the bye-bye song over and over and over and...over and she likes to watch the 4th and 5th viewing upside down. Damn you Snook you giant stoner sloth!
The cute side: When Snappy comes across something she likes or thinks is cute, she reacts to it much the way she reacts to the apex of all things cute and likable: Ralph the big fat growly hissy cat who thinks she is the antichrist. So yeah, she hugs and kisses and offers imaginary treats to all sorts of things; dogs, babies, stuffed animals, her dolly, Cookie Monster, Daddy's tummy, the laptop, Mommy's kitty cat earrings, pictures of cats, babies, doggies and duckies, her pink cowboy boots, her pajamas, and most recently mom's ring. When a baby kisses your ring, it's not just cute...it's hilarious. Everytime she does it, I say "Yes, kiss my ring because I am Pope of the apartment."
Not quite so cute: Last night she was watching The Colbert Report with me and her Auntie...when all of a sudden, she wanted somthing and she wanted it NOW!!!
"What? What? What? What? Oh. Stephen Colbert said the word "Pope" and now you have to kiss mommy's ring? Sure. Here you go." Okay. So it was kind of cute.
The OUTRAGEOUSLY cute side: Snappy in general and all the Snaptastic things she does.
The Not Cute at All Side: She hates to sleep, but gets very grouchy and tantrumy when she is tired. As does mom.
Even Less Cute: She has figured out the stove guard and has used this info to nearly burn the house down See pic.
*The world keeps spinning round and round it's true/We've had our time and now it's through/but you and I forever will be friends/we'll try to touch the sky where clouds never end/and you and I together in a Big Big World/we'll try to touch the sky in a Big Big World/ And we'll look for wonder all around/ and you'll find me hanging upside down/ you have to go I know it it's time/ so give me five/ this whole world is yours and mine