A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm!

Of Boobs and Bubs*

Hello there, blogworld: I've been neglectful once again.  But you can take my word that my neglect has been peppered with many a sad moment wondering when I'd get the chance to tell you how much guilt I've racked up on account of not posting.

Today I bring you two products that I think you may like (including something I'm giving away for FREE), and assorted thoughts, as always.  As I get into the swing of things, I will do my best to start posting again in a more disciplined basis.

_________

Item one:  Are you a mother who needs a breast pump and who has the good taste of reading this weblog?  Then please, by all means, CLICK HERE and go read my review of the Comfort Select Performance breast pump by Evenflo.  You may WIN a breast pump!  All you have to do is share an embarrassing pumping or nursing story with me (and however many other people read this)! Whee!  Let's make it an oversharing party!

_________

Item two:  Do your kids do what they are told before you're done counting to three?  Do they suck in their snot when you ask them to blow?  Do they explode in silly gales of laughter anytime the word "poop" comes up in conversation?  Is there a cavern-worthy thread of drool hanging from your infant's mouth right now?  And do you need a term for describing that sinking feeling that you're turning into your parents, along with all the other situations listed here?

If so, The Kid Dictionary is a book you will enjoy reading.  And by "enjoy", I mean you'll be clutching your belly hard from laughing heartily.

And honestly, anyone who's ever babysat, had siblings, has nieces or nephews, or has been stuck in an elevator with a child, can probably find a funny, warm and insightful kernel of truth in the Sniglet-like portmanteau entries that comprise this funny, charming little book by Eric Ruhalter.

What are you waiting for?  Go check out my review AND The Kid Dictionary!  Because I said so, that's why!

_________

*With hearty apologies to Mr. John Steinbeck.

Thanksgiving Started Early

Earlier I was writing this long and complicated entry I was going to share with you guys today.  It's in my drafts, waiting to be edited and shared and dissected.

Several things happened, in no particular order, which made my mind wander elsewhere:

1.  It's been really cold here today.  We had some very cool snow flurries.  Snowish!  I can't think in snow.

2. I came across this thing where you find out whether your cat is plotting to kill you.  Apparently Miss Gracie is plotting to kill us only about 85% of the time.  I suspect it could be more, but she is too busy sleeping or plotting to Hot Carl us while we're sleeping (why kill the source of sustenance and nourishment when you can just defile and savage them instead, right?).  Do you want to know if your cat is definitely plotting to kill you?  Get thee to Is your cat plotting to kill you?

3. I was also going to write about my prenatal yoga class and becoming one with the universe and stuff, but then this morning I saw this sad story on the Washington Post (subscription for today, sorry about that) about some detectives holding a funeral for a baby they found abandoned inside a trash bag (the third such case in a short period of time) and it hit me really hard.  One of the detectives was quoted as saying that the baby was "a little girl no one loved".  Her mother was charged with murder, as she ought, I suppose; but basically no one was excited about this little person entering the world.  No one cared to give her a proper burial, except for these caring men of the Prince George's police department. 

After having gone to this loving class taught by my friend Kat --whose class is very nurturing and like a loud, perky cheerleading  paean to natural birthing and to mothers and to babies-- where all the moms in attendance looked happy and, if not totally ready to be mothers, at least excited to be pregnant and to prepare for their births in our little kind-of-affluent niche of the world; and then collide in the morning with the grim reality of knowing that there are mothers out there who are willing to throw their newborns away in a garbage bag, my mind became numb.

I am not sure I want to understand.  I don't know what the words are that anyone can say to anyone else in those circumstances, except that those circumstances happened and a tiny infant was left for dead instead of being turned over to a loving family or someone who cared for her.  The only bit of happiness I can glean from all this is that while some may criticize the police and resent them with seething rage for doing their job or not, they are often the only rays of light that shine bright in a victim's life, however brief.

4.  I am grateful for our policemen and other civil servants.  Are you?

You Still Didn't Ask, But Here I Am Telling You Anyway (x2)

Hmmm..... okay.  I will do a double whammy: another blast from the past, on cravings and other pregnant myths (or not?), and I will also admit to liking the following foods --though most perhaps not in the order listed:

French Fries (um.... anything potato, really)
Hamburgers (okay, these two are pretty much in order)
CAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!!
Oxtails (I know, odd)
Pineapples
Cashews (the superior nut)
Pickles (pregnancy or no)
Onions (however you dice them, or slice them)
Pasta (mmmmmmmmm!  Although, it HAS to be al dente-- no mush for me)
Black cherry preserves (these are my favorites)
Veggie sandwiches from Subway, with extra mustard and onions
Chee-tos (oh boy)
Skittles (ooooooh boy)
Vanilla-almond granola

Okay.... there.  How about you?

And Most Things Seem Possible With the Help of a Really Good Shredder

If you are a regular to this space, you may be wondering what on God's green earth happened to me. 

I probably won't be able to condense, as I'm aiming for brevity here, but here we go:

1. "God's green earth" is actually a cruel, cruel joke around these here parts.  California has been burning everywhere and it's at times scary and at times frustrating.  True-- Chaparral forests will burn, as is their wont.  But when you know that the fire that held you up for hours somewhere between Santa Cruz and Monterey in the amazingly and unbelievable temperature of 94 degrees was caused by someone and not by the sheer forces of nature, it's a little harder to understand the will of nature.

2. Do you have a yearning in your heart for leading a less complicated existence?  Pretend you're moving and can only ship a very select amount of belongings!  You'll be struck at just how useless most things suddenly appear.  Right, Rev. Mom?

3. One of the most amazing things of early pregnancy (and you may feel free to roll your eyes at this whole item) is the fact that your sense of smell becomes like a weird superpower.  I am Super Smelling Pregnant Lady, and I can tell there is a magnolia three blocks away!  SHAZAM!

4. It's amazing how nearly 20 years' worth of memories can fit in two boxes.

5. It's even more amazing how 10 years' worth of living in one place can produce three obscene trips to Goodwill that didn't even appear to make a dent.

6. A two-year old can reduce your vocabulary to "NO!" and its derivatives, "DON'T!" and "STOP!"

7. One or two really good friends can make ten okay-acquaintances seem nearly pointless.

More later, promise.  July is just around the corner, and with it comes the food-themed NaBlo.

Because I'm insane.

This is Your Brain on Hormones. Any Questions?

To say that I haven't felt like blogging lately is to say that Russia is kind of big.  But yes, I do have reasons:

1. We've been roasting here in the Southeastern You-inted States for four days in a row-- all in the upper 90s.  Now, I remember a while back I was complaining about 102 degrees in August and how it was a record-breaking temperature and I had a reader in Australia chide me about that being nothing, compared to Australian heat.  Yes, dear reader: that's because this is NOT Australia and temperatures over 100 degrees are highly unusual around these here parts.  If I were in California, I'd be complaining about someone spitting a little too forcefully and getting a rock wet, understand.
2. I've been tired and distracted and stuff because,
3. I'm pregnant.
4. It's due in February-- I'm just amazingly bad at keeping anything a secret.
5. Also, Herr Meow had a very scary accident today.  He's okay, but I'm still traumatized.  More on that later.

Alrighty.  Um.  Enjoy the thunderstorm, those of you who get to live through it, and for the rest of you, enjoy your June 10/11 timeframe.  Whee.

Pee Ess: It's in awkward moments like these that I realize why it's important to have a catchy valediction or closing line to fall back on, such as, "I remain your ever faithful servant and admirer;" "Good night and good luck;"  or, you know, "Seacrest, out!"

Also, My Hair is Getting a Little Frizzy

I am overwhelmed.

For some reason, those words are not easy to dislodge from one's heart-- they cling on stubbornly, as if prying them too forcefully might cause a violent rush of either blood or tears to gush and engulf everything.  And really, the overwhelm is a very manageable overwhelm, as far as overwhelms are concerned.  It's just so hard to accept the condition and move on.

So, why am I overwhelmed, you may wonder.  Maybe you're even rolling your eyes a little and calling me a weenie or some such.  That's okay: I kind of am.

I am overwhelmed because,

1.  I am a single mother for the week (with a champagne toast to my good friend who does this EXTREMELY HARD DUAL ROLE THING every day of her life).
2. I am still really sad over the death of Yves Saint Laurent: he and his brand were such icons throughout my entire life.  I know that sounds selfish because after all it's a life of a person who's passed on and here I am blabbing about me and my recollections of what has always meant to be well-dressed.  However, I think it's still somewhat meaningful: he was an iconoclast who decreed it was okay for women to wear pants and look fabulous while doing it.  As a woman born in the 70s, I've never had to confront the static and reproach of wearing pants and all the other little ways in which women and men have kept women passive-aggressively dominated for ages.
3. Which leads me into overwhelm #3: I read a novel from the early 1970s about a woman who struggles with the unhappiness she feels trying to be a liberated woman while quite obviously not grasping the full idea of what liberation means to her, and I'm all up in arms feeling the women's lib pain.  Why couldn't Hillary be a better candidate so I could proudly vote for the first woman in office?  Raaargh! (and sorry fellow sisters who support Hillary)
4. Also, Herr Meow had a really hard time going to sleep tonight. 
5. And he has way too many toys-- I spent the better part of the afternoon rearranging train tracks.
6. And I'm starting to realize that shopping for clothes does not hold the same thrill it has before.
7. Partly because it's more fun to shop for kids' things and for home goods-- lots and lots of delightful house goods.  Naughty, I know.  And oh-so-predictable.
8. I really need to get a handle on my gardening clutter too.  And my craftling clutter, which is woefully out of hand.  And you should see our garage.
9. I hate my husband's motorcycle with a deep and abiding passion.   There Internets: now you know. (eta: hate is too strong.  I do like it but I resent it.  AND IT TAKES UP TOO MUCH DAMN SPACE!)
10. And finally --for now-- I gotta say that keeping up with NaComLeavMo is getting to me too.  There are way too many blogs to read and the pressure of reading new blogs plus my steady list is getting to be too much to bear: I want to leave nice insightful comments that don't just sound like I skimmed the entry and thought of a platitude to say.  So I think that I have to bow out, for my own sanity.  I thank you if you're coming through NaCom and I will do my best to visit all the bloggers who stop here directed through the blogroll, but I must needs take a sanity break (I told you I was kind of a weenie).

So there you have it: I have cracked like a fresh egg.  I just hope I don't smell too bad and that you can scoop me up and use me in an omelette or something. 

Toodles, dear Internets! 

The Post That Almost Lived on Without a Title

Several things:

1. Typepad changed the "compose post" layout.  Aaack!  I was having a minor freakout for a few seconds, thinking I'd somehow stumbled into the wrong place or a twilight zone of weirdness where nothing is as it was.  Which it isn't but please, don't make me repeat myself.

2. My last post was #666.  Yikes!  I told you, Momzillas are evil and even my post counter thingy knows it.

3. Go to Zen Sarcasm Reviews! to read about a new book called The Yummy Mummy Manifesto.  It's very cute and a good read.  Please go?

4. Davdid Archuleta is going to win, isn't he?  If so, I'm wishing him a merry Jordin Sparks career.  Booooo.

5. I promised the very talented and awesome news source Anita of Prairie Dreams that I'd do a meme tonight so here goes.  It's time to reveal six weird things about me:

• As of today, May 20th 2008, I've never had one cavity in my life.  I realize in these days of modern dentistry and fluoridated water and whatnot it's not as big a deal.  But hey, I think that going 31 years without a cavity is kind of... weird at least.
• I like stale cookies, because I like my cookies soft, not crunchy. Whenever cookies accidentally stay out or opened just a bit and they go all soft and stale, I secretly rejoice.
• I like the smell of dead skunk on the road.  It smells kind of grassy and exotic and oddly happy.
• It won't ruin my day if it doesn't happen, but I strongly prefer to get up on the right side of the bed and place my right foot down first.
• Recently, I had a bite of a tofu pup (fake hot dog) and the mouth feel of the whole thing (semi-crunchy casing, semi-solid innards) nearly made me vomit.  Never again, my friends.
• I like Peeps.  It's the sugary crunch, I think.

Hmmm.... not a stellar diet, but oh well, right?  I am supposed to tag six people, so I think that I'll tag the last six comments, Anita excluded.  Yay!  You're it(s)!

More tomorrow!

PS: ACK!  A title is like oxygen!  How could this happen?!  I blame Typepad.  And Mac.

"R" is for Road (Trip and Rage), Rest (Rooms), Rib Round Roast (with Sausage!) and Rasca (Too Much Sangria)

If I could telegraph this post with my unconscious mind, I would-- I am that tired.

But a few things need to be said:

1. We're road-tripping again, whee!  Fun but exhausting.
2. My road rage is quite amazing.  I never cease to be amazed by the volume, force, and vulgarity of the things that come out of my mouth when I'm behind the wheel of a car.
3. Rest areas can be quite cute when wildflowers and native structures are introduced.  South Carolina has lovely ones, as a matter of fact.  However, there is nothing quite as beautiful as seeing a rest area with enough rest rooms that are well lit and clean, when you reeeeeeeeeeeally have to go.  Breathtaking.
4. Stuffed beef sounds positively alarming, decadent, excessive when stuffed with chorizo, in a Cuban dish called boliche.  But oh, dear Internets, is it GOOD.
5. And if you're going to be in Florida, why not try to go to a restaurant called Columbia?  It's delicious and I am pretty sure you'll love it, because Spanish and Cuban foods are really good.  Like, really really really good.
6. And finally, if you go there are you order the tableside Sangría, be prepared to be very happy and tipsy.
7. Oh yeah.  In Colombia, when one gets drunk it's referred to as a "rasca."    It's kind of a funny term and it sounds funny.  And hee hee hee hee rasca.  Hee hee.

*Zonk*

"Dromedary Day" Sounded Too Snooty

Several things:

1. If people hit you up for money on the street, even if they are very nice, RUN. 

2. I crafted!  Here's a prettyish view:

Sharks' teeth look nicer when you can actually SEE them.

3. It's colder today.  Boo-hiss.

4. Thank you to V at the Sarcasm Society for linking to this blog under their Sarcastic Fantastic section!  I am flattered (and that is not sarcastic at all).

5. I am seriously getting tired of everything being made in China.  I keep telling myself that I will not buy it unless it's NOT made in China.  But then, I wouldn't be able to buy much at all.

6. Not buying makes me very cranky.

7. Crankiness leads to overindulging.

8. Overindulging leads to depression.

9. Which, invariably, leads to crankiness.

10.  Vicious cycles are bad.

11. Crafting is good.  Unless you have to do it with things from China.

12. Which is why this product, despite its million warnings, made me smile:

Made with pride in the USA.  Will kill you if inhaled.   Ain't it a beaut?

Solider on, loveys.

Blog Cleanliness Is Next To Blogginess (Honest to Blog?)

Hey there, jellybeans!  Please behold the loveliness that is my DevaRoll over on the near right column, okay?

It's been recently updated and dusted off because some people have stopped blogging and/or the link didn't seem to do much.

If I accidentally deleted you; if you do not see yourself here; or, alternately, if you would like to do a mutual back-scratching link love session, please leave me a comment!  I love reading new blogs and having a higher Technorati number as much as the next girl, ya know?

In the meantime, please click on the links!  You might find a new favorite or have a good couple of laughs or fawnings.  I think I can almost guarantee you'll find something cool in any of the links to the right.

And if you're reading this through your trusty aggregator, well.... please come on by and say howdy and have a couple of clicks!  You'll be glad you did!

________

Oh, also I need to tell you that if you want to have an absolutely LOVELY ordering experience ordering online (easy, arrives in cute box with pretty paper, awesome stuff), you need to get your little (lithe, graceful, rock-hard, manly where applicable) patootie over to Delight.com and just go nuts, okay?

Or, well, don't go crazy.  Just shop responsibly and enjoy because they have really cute things.  Currently being enjoyed at Casa de Meow are the recycled-newspaper Smencils.  They write really smoothly and smell so yummy, I've actually been dreaming up things to write about old-school style.

I know, bizarre.  But hey!  I guess snail mail comes in handy sometimes, right?  I'm thinking tax return here, but you can insert at will.

________

Have a happy Monday, lovely people!