August 24th, 2009

I rode my bike to the Promenade and returned some things to Old Navy and REI. Then I met up with Stevel and Violet at a street fair/block party the co-op was hosting. If you can imagine a large-scale event that takes up the whole block, and that has been organized by hippies, you can understand why the crowd control and traffic flow were afterthoughts. Non-thoughts. There was a carnival-style popcorn machine IN THE DOORWAY. NARROWEST DOORWAY ON EARTH to begin with, people, and it is both in-door and exit. Not so fun, the co-op block party.

Back at No. 6, Vibble played in her pool. Here are two photos of that. Never mind the captions, unless you were on Noelle and Phil’s Christmas card mailing list, in which case, enjoy the sense of life coming full-circle.

I thought about drinking the tea the acupuncturist/Traditional Medicine doctor gave me yesterday … she said I should “drink it fast in small sips at first until the taste does not bother me.” It remains yet undranken.

Next, Vibble acted like she wanted a nap. But really she just wanted to to watch TV in our room. She did let me trim her fingernails while we watched Sponge Bob, though, and that manicure was three weeks overdue. Eventually she did nap, but it was a struggle to get there.

During the nap time, I took a hot bath, then went to Trader Joe’s and OSH. Yep, I ran errands without a toddler standing up in the shopping-cart seat to scream in my ear. LUXURIOUS. God, I love this kid, but GOD, is she screamy right now. And determined to make our public outings as complicated and potentially toddler-fatal as possible. It can be trying. We really have more fun together here at home.

After her nap, Vibble ate some of her favorite foods: yogurt-covered pretzels, avocado, hard-boiled egg, apple, and DESSERT.

After dinner, and I am not making this up, this happened:

Four people—two long-time friends, and two very new friends—showed up for a little casual hanging out. They had just come from Bed, Bath & Beyond, where they had all purchased toe separators. Three of the friends were raving about their new products. The fourth one did not de-shoe, as he claimed to have some webbed toes he didn’t want to show off, and so planned to try out his new As-Seen-On-TV luxury at a later time, alone.

After the friends left, Stevel spent two hours trying to get Vibble to sleep. We had this thing worked out, before that full moon. Now we have to get anal again about the evening schedule, I think. Food in belly at 7. Butt in bath at 8. Stories and songs at 9. Power down by 10. We get lax, and we miss the good drift-off window. Before the window, she is too awake to sleep. AFTER the window, she is overtired and can’t control herself.

Anyway, now she is asleep. Stevel is submitting iPhone app stuff. I’m thinking about a second round of dessert for myself. And that is the story here.

Some Hilarious Comics by My Ol’ Co-worker Stowe

August 10th, 2009

Nutshot 3

Nutshot 9

I love how now that we’re parents, we just do what we do best, and the kiddos provide the content/ideas. Some days I just feel exploitative. Sigh. But then I change some Huggies.

Just some new photos

August 6th, 2009

Woodbridge Lagoon Day


August 5th, 2009

Full moon here, and Vibble’s been with us long enough now for the pattern to be undeniable: She is a werewolf. Tonight it took me two-plus hours to get her to sleep. My mother is here, but Vibb would have no part of anyone but me touching her after her PJs were on. This happens sometimes, no big deal, but her behavior was erratic and intense. Sleepy, whiny, suddenly energetic, talkative, then lolling, then climby … clearly under the influence of forces that had taken possession of the poor child. And then there is the fur. I haven’t mentioned the fur on this blog yet, but there it is: She has fur on her back and on the backs of her shoulders. It’s soft and black, strange and cute, and when you combine it with the fact she is quite off—quite not-herself—every full moon, it can’t be denied. We need a Nuk made of a silver bullet for these occasions.

In a related sidenote, the ear thing … When she is sleepy, Violet reaches for Steve’s ear (or down my shirt for a nipple to tweak, but that’s more common and less relevant to this particular story). She is often forceful in moving his head to one side or the other to allow herself access to an ear. This is how we really know when she’s tired—you pick her up, and she shoves your face aside so she can rub your earlobe between her fingers. Right now Steve is in New Orleans, and this evening during part of my lengthy and varied efforts to get the kid down for the night, Linus climbed onto my stomach. Violet responded by forcefully moving his head so she could access his ear, which she began to fondle. Linus objected, shook himself free, but the child reined him in with another forceful yanking of the face. They went back and forth a few times before Vibble sort of won, and Linus submitted, albeit somewhat tensely, to her ear-tweaking. Some kids suck their thumbs. Ours rubs the cat’s ear. And has fur.

Jobs of Violet

August 1st, 2009


Vibble moves things all over the house. It is both infuriating and amusing. Since Monday I have been trying to find my metal ruler. I just found it, along with my blue pen, in the drawer in the bathroom where I keep extra TP. “Someone” took it and thought to herself, ‘This isn’t where this belongs!’ And so she put it “away.” I find things like this all the time. I feel like I now spend 30 percent of my day shuttling things back to the room/floor they belong on so I can find them again next time I need them.


Yesterday we went to Irvine to hang out in the Woodbridge Lagoon with Megan and Christopher (photos on my phone—will post them later). The Lagoon is awwwweeeesoooommme. Something between a swimming pool and a beach—perfect for a little one. But we wound up positioned between the Lagoon and the lake, and Vibble was determined to motor it into the LAKE. So unpacking our gear went like this:

1. Pick up a bag/item out of the wagon and hurriedly walk it to our chairs.
2. RACE to the steep bank of the lake and grab the kid before she dives in.
3. Pick up next bag/item out of the wagon and hurriedly walk it to our spot.
4. BOLT to the lakeside just in time to prevent a drowning.
Repeat again.
Repeat in reverse to pack back up to leave.

She was determined to get into the deep water of the Lagoon pool. I decided to let her go and slip under quickly, thinking this would deter her from heading that way. We did this no fewer than five times, me fishing out the sputtering, “WTF-is-happening” Vibble each time. And yet … she just kept doing it! I finally got her distracted by her sand toys. The constant need for me to thwart her suicidal maneuvers—standing up in the shopping cart, racing toward the deep lake, rushing to the deep part of the pool, climbing onto the table at the restaurant, eating crayons on the sly, more, more, more … despite my love for cake, I should be as svelte as a supermodel in no time.


Since her visit with her cousins, Vibble’s play has changed. My nieces are Imaginative. Note the capital “I.” Like, AMAZINGLY imaginative. Since we got home, Violet is playing by herself a bit more, and her play involves a lot more pretending. Steve and I spy on her when we can. ‘Look, she’s scooping things out of the little pot onto the little plate in the little kitchen! AWWW!’ So cute.