Lunch Lady

A trip to the zoo included feeding the goats. Tillie now wants to hand feed everything and everyone--dogs, cats, neighbor kids...

Frank Talk About Pluto

If you have not been following the Pluto controversy, I highly recommend reading up. No, knowing about it will not affect any part of your day, year, or life. No, ignoring it will not put anyone's lives (or livelihoods even) in danger. However, it is one of those purely intellectual quandaries that make us delightfully human and I don't want you to miss out on it.

The debate also brings to light what science is about and how it can and should affect society and education--but it does so without threatening anyone's religious beliefs, health, or budget. (A la evolution, stem cells, and global warming...) It is a lovely, accessible thought experiment. And, everyone from all walks of life seems to have a strong opinion about it. I am dying to know what Tillie and her generation will have decided in 30 years.

I just read something (old news, well, not even news really) that blew my mind. "Pluto last crossed Neptune's orbit on Jan. 23, 1979, and remained within it until Feb. 11, 1999." (from NASA's website) I had heard this, that Pluto spends 20 years as the 8th planet rather than the 9th planet from the Sun every 250 years--no biggie. However, I didn't realize that this was occurring NOW! (That was "then" of course.) It was happening while I was learning about Pluto!! Pretty much from the time I could understand what a planet was and that there were 9 of them and that they were in a certain order--until the time that I was beginning my career as a textbook editor--Pluto wasn't even where it was I thought it was in the solar system. Nobody mentioned this to me!!!

Why is this little factoid important? Well, if you feel that Pluto's status as a planet hinges on tradition--then perhaps you should consider that Pluto itself completely disregards tradition. He (or is it a girl?) says, "Please excuse my dear Aunt Sally, but my very educated mother just served us pine nuts and NOT nine pickles, at least while I'm on my tropical sesquibicentennial vacation in the sunny part of Neptune's orbit, hah, hah, hah!" What a little imp!

Meanwhile, Tillie shops for a revised poster of the solar system...

Road Trip

I took a quick solo road trip yesterday. I love to drive for a few hours by myself. I used to hate it, but that was when I had more time in my life, more time for thinking and not doing anything. I can't just lay and stare anymore. No time. I could be working, reading, cleaning, child-minding, home-repairing, laundry-folding, show-watching, crafting, catching up on sleep, etc. If possible, I should be doing two of these things at once, which means no thinking. The great thing about driving is that you can't do anything else at the same time. You are not tempted to multitask. You can only think. Just in time, too--the old mind files needed a good dusting.

Splitzville

Reasons to Adopt:
You don't have to be pregnant.
You have a choice when it comes to the health of your child.
It is the ultimate low-carbon footprint.
You are helping a woman and a child who are very likely desperate.

Reasons Not to Adopt:
It is very expensive.
It is a lot of red tape, emotional strain, and effort. (Wait, this might go word-for-word in the first list!)
Governments, adoption agencies, and passersby will put you through the wringer, judge you, reject you, and make you feel inadequate.
People you will meet or already know will have issues with the genetics, race, and politics associated with your choice for the rest of your life and your kid's life.

Other thoughts:
I was going to put something about prenatal care concerns under "not to adopt" but then I realized that I still had those as a birth mother. You always wonder if all that coffee and wine you drank as a preggie had some lasting effect on your kid.

Also, I gave up long ago on the good genes/bad genes worries, when I realized that any biological kid of mine is more likely than an adopted kid to have depression, obesity, alcoholism, and myopia in his/her DNA.

I can't help wondering (with great excitement) if the kid we might adopt in the next year or two is alive yet...

Mariposa

Recently picked up Tillie at daycare and she was wearing this butterfly costume:

Ewrphans

I just recently finished a craft I started last fall--three stuffed elephants for Tillie--they are so cute! (I blogged about making them as gifts for kiddos last Christmas--just never got around to finishing the ones I cut out for my own daughter.)

Tillie loves elephants, which she calls "ewrphans." This sounds a lot like orphans, which I've had on my mind lately. I would like to adopt one. If you have any suggestions--like especially if know of someone who is wanting to give up their kid for adoption--please send them my way.

I spoke with a couple of adoption agencies in town and they said they would not accept a couple who is fertile. After much boohooing and feeling how unfair that was, I matured about 20 years (from an emotional age of 2) and realized perhaps being fertile is quite lucky and maybe I should stop my whining. Next realization: there are not enough unwanted infants or desperate pregnant women in America for all the adopting parents out there--this is a good thing. So, this means we will have to go international.

For the first time in my life I wished I knew more pregnant teens and/or unfit/poverty-stricken mothers. Again, please keep an eye out for those for me.

Occupation

Ug, work is painful this month--feels more like a military occupation of my brain and I'm a rebellious local. How does one get a better attitude about it? Sometimes I wish I had a boss to keep me in line and check my morale. I could also blame him or her for all of my problems.

Will Tillie be a firefighter or a librarian when she grows up?

Plate-Letting

I donated platelets today in honor of a friend who is needing them. Too bad I can't fedex my particular bag of life juice directly to her. Hopefully, there is some sort of domino effect with my giving blood causing a line of people giving blood to cascade in her direction all the way to Houston. Still, it feels good to give something, and it has the added bonus of being a futuristic, science-infused endeavor. I find blood chemistry fascinating! (By the way, did you know that the inventor of the blood bank was an African American? Charles Drew. These are the kinds of things that we textbook writers file away for future reference.)

The lady at the blood bank said that she had me down as last giving in 1994. Yikers--I was 19 then! So young, so generous. What happened to me over the next 14 years that I didn't give blood again? Why does it take a personal friend going through hell for me to hike it over to the blood bank? Please check back in with me and see if I've turned over a new leaf and made this a regular thing--preferably sooner than 14 years from now.

More busy baby vacay pics:

Old Biddies

Ug, I just dropped Tillie off at daycare in a mismatched, stained, wrong-weather outfit with shoes that don't fit, a bag of apples because we ran out of her favorite (bananas), and throwing the worst tantrum because she wanted to stay home. Plus she has a horrible yellow-brown bruise on her head from falling down last week, which really just tops off the neglected child look. It felt awful. I mean, I know what Mondays are like. How do you explain them to a two-year-old?

Oh sweet vacation, how I miss thee...

Can't you just tell what these two are going to be like in 80 years?!

Splashy Maddy

Cousin Madz likes a good splash:

Motor Mouth

Tillie did not say a word on her first motor boat ride with Uncle Mike. However, Little Miss Chatty would not shut up the whole rest of the trip!

PS. Life vests must be tasty.

Vacay Vids

Tillie meets an infinite number of Tillies:


Excitement at the Cincinnati Aquarium:
(When Tillie visits the aquarium, she sprints from exhibit to exhibit, spends no longer than 30 seconds at each one, and screams "Fishies!" the whole time.)


Stop, Hammer Time (complete with dance):


Refreshing sprinkler fun:

Monkey See

The Tilminator saw some little girls at the playground hanging from a bar and had to give it a try. She has officially reached a new stage of cute/annoying. If she is not copying everything you do, she's bossing you around officiously.

Staying Cool

Taking cues from the dogs, Tillie uses her tongue too.

Rough Day at the Sand Mines

Shew--operating a back-hoe is tough work!

Fortunately, union workers get a 15-minute snack break--barely enough time for these hamsters to stuff their cheeks with fruit.

Brushing 101

Pop Up

Thank you Camile and Alex for the awesome book!

Bubble Fun

Shooz

I love Till's new laced shoes.

Moving On

We got Zephyr's stitches out today and Athena's yesterday. Both dogs are doing great and need no further vet care--hooray! In fact, Zephyr is downright chipper. He is even healthy enough to get into a spot of trouble now and then--jumping over child gates, low-counter surfing, barking at door knocks and waking the baby, etc. I've decided to follow his heroic role-modeling and move on. The fence repair should be done this week, so by next weekend we should be back to normal and enjoying the scorching heat in our refurbished backyard. Tonight we go on our first post-incident family walk (probably only around the block--we don't want to strain anybody).

And to show how normal things are, here is a picture of Tillie accessorizing:

Tot TV

Tillie played with this balloon ("b'oon") for more than 30 minutes--then we took it away because it was starting to creep us out:


Friendly bus driver?


Tillie loves the "noise":

Look Out E.O. Wilson

Sometimes I find Tillie on the ground like this:

But, it is not because she fell, but because she found some ants:

She likes ants, so she wants to take a closer look:

Quiltcitement!

I got to work on a lovely quilt project recently. Twenty-five friends worked on squares for the quilt to give to our dear friend Camile, who has just checked into the hospital for a month-long stay to get a bone-marrow transplant. She finally opened the package yesterday. I have been on the edge of my seat for weeks in anticipation. There is nothing more rewarding than quilting a project made with so much love. Here are the pictures of the completed quilt and the little booklet that we made to go with it. Every person got their own spread with a picture of their square and a little note. My favorite part of this craftventure was seeing the amazing work of people who do not ever craft--they just rose to the occasion and did so with stunning results. I also enjoyed hearing two grown men argue over whether they had made a square for a "quilt" or a "blanket."

"But, you see, it is a quilted blanket."

Mine was the mini-robot square, of course.

Tillie's was a book, because she and Camile like to read together.

Fountain o' Fun

Better than a water park:

Wee Crop

Banana peppers have been flavoring my beans:

Tiny watermelon or giant marble? (Sadly shriveled up a couple of days ago):

Jalapenos that need picking:

Some see a baby cucumber; I see a future pickle:

Water Walking

I love the way she bobs around like an astronaut on the moon:

First Crush

Tillie has a crush on DJ Lance from the kids show Yo Gabba Gabba. She screams whenever this favorite show comes on:

Ready to Go

Pool Party

Tillie and her cousin enjoy a dip in the pool.

Brace Yourselves...

These pictures illustrate a horrible and violent story that has a happy ending...well kind of...I’m not really happy about it just yet. I’m still a bit rattled.

Okay, here is what happened. Our neighbor’s dogs got into a fight with our dogs through a hole in our fence. They chewed up Zephyr so much he had to have the entire front leg amputated as a result. Athena fared much better, only needed stitches, a shunt, and a little splint. That’s it. The dogs lived. No humans were hurt. Tillie wasn’t home to see it. We somehow have enough money/credit to get the pups fixed up and buy a new fence. Even the giant bloody smear can be cleaned out of the car’s leather upholstery.

But, it’s not really all that happened. This horrible lady whose five crazy dogs live behind me said things to me that I cannot get out of my head. They were so inhumane and un-empathetic and thoughtless that I can’t even repeat them. And the hard part is I can’t really hate her. I mean, I do hate her—I just don’t feel good about it. She is mentally ill. She is diagnosably paranoid. She is a horrible drunk—not a festive “baracha” party-girl—the kind of drunkard that slobber-rants at shadows and falls over and smells like liquor at 4 in the afternoon. How do you hate someone like that? Perhaps I can loathe her—that word is soaked in a little more pity than hate. Yes, that is how I think I will describe it from now on. I loathe my next-door neighbor. I loathe the person who lives near me permanently. I loathe the person whose house I see every time I walk through my kitchen. I loathe the person whose miserable problems have leaked over the fence into my life.

Scott says he feels that the experience made him grow, for the better. I’m not there yet. I definitely feel different from before, but it’s not the beautiful feeling of growth that results from overcoming the pain of getting your heartbroken. I don’t have a deeper understanding of poetry or art. I am not inspired to create things or express myself. I’m not a better person. No, really, I just feel like the world is a little uglier than before. Animals are wilder and more unpredictable than before. People are meaner and stupider than before. I’m a little less in control of the safety of my loved ones than I was before.

PS. Okay, maybe there is one ridiculous tiny upshot...Dare I say that Athena looks even cuter with her little pink and purple cast? It is true!

The Tiniest Forager

Sadly, my slow photography skills could not capture the adorable tantrum that Tillie threw because she was not strong enough to lift this watermelon. Fortunately for our little terror, auntie Karin arrived in time to lend some muscle.

Toot Toot

Tillie could not figure out how to operate this party horn. Instead of blowing into it, she just made her own noise into it, as if it were a kazoo. It worked, so who was I to criticize?

Vantage Point

The Fly Whisperer

We went to a party last week and there were about a dozen or so flies hanging out by this one set of windows. Tillie, who lately has been fascinated with insects (and flies in particular), was quite tickled to have so many playmates. She calls all bugs "bees" and if they are very small, they are "baby bees." She played with the flies for about 20 minutes before she actually caught one! The poor fly was still alive, but not long for this world due to the toddler-pinch-of-death grip Tillie had on its hind quarters. She carried that wriggling fly around for another 20 minutes saying "bee, bee, bee" and showing it all of her favorite parts of the house and introducing it to the other flies. She then proceeded to pitch a giant tantrum when I took away her little buddy and made her wash her hands. Okay, maybe I am the bad guy here, but playing with animals that hang out it poop and give birth to maggots is disgusting in my mind.

Here's some video footage of yet another young entomologist moment: