Yesterday, I completely redesigned this site, if by “redesigned” I mean switched to a different theme, which is something I don’t think I’ve done since I started blogging here in 2006. Everything should function as well (or as poorly) as before, and I hope you like it!

If that’s not exciting enough, here’s a picture of Soren enjoying a peanut at last night’s Rockies game.


Last Year at this Time

Song: Move Your Body by Marshall Jefferson


The caption is “Somebody was worn out by that Villanova game.” He’s been a fan of March Madness since he was almost 5 months old! It’s weird how when you have a baby, time seems to go really fast, but then stuff like this seems like 100 years ago.

In other news, is getting some super-exciting upgrades today. I hope you won’t notice anything on your end. I’ll be back tomorrow with things that haven’t been possible here before. It’s going to be house-music-all-night-long awesome!

Untitled (No. 338)

Song: I Found a Whistle by MGMT

Tonight I was going to tell you about how I sometimes wonder whether I or this blog would be more interesting if I were willing to debate parenting styles and philosophies. There’s always some sort of drama in the mommyblogosphere — it could be about formula, circumcision, working, drinking, having one kid or having 7 kids, or some asshole mother who treats her kids in a way that kind of makes me want to cry. The thing is, try as I sometimes halfheartedly might, I just don’t give a shit. I mean, I give a shit that some kids have a mom who thinks it’s cool to yap about how she called one of them “garbage” once, but really, that’s not my battle to fight, and it ends up being a battle that’s not even very interesting.

In general, I don’t enjoy blogs where the authors go on and on about this big issue or that big issue. I like blogs that are written by someone with whom I’d like to be friends, blogs that give me a little piece of someone’s life, so it feels like I’m there with her, trying on spindly shoes and a belt as a necklace or walking through her quirky neighborhood to an exciting mode of public transportation that might smell faintly of pee. If that’s the kind of blog I like to read, I figure that’s the kind of blog should write, and that’s the kind of blog I’d most enjoy writing.

Tonight, Soren was getting a little antsy and Ben gave him some goofy star-shaped sunglasses we got in a birthday-party gift bag. As soon as Soren started walking around with them and we were worried he’d poke out an eye, Ben traded the sunglasses for a plastic whistle from the same gift bag. This whistle was just about the most exciting thing the world has ever known. First, it functioned as a rattle, which, even though of course Soren is too old and sophisticated for plain old ordinary rattles, was kind of fun for a minute. Then, I blew the whistle so it made its whistle noise, and seriously, that was just so cool you can’t even believe it. It was like there was this thing, and it made a noise! Then Soren took the whistle, gave it back to me, waited for it to make noise, took it back, gave it back, noise, take, back, noise, etc., etc. Then he tried to put it in my mouth for me when I wasn’t doing it fast enough. Then I tried to show him how to put it in his mouth and that was all, oooh, hey, something in my mouth, that’s cool, and then he gave it back to me. Then he’d put it in his mouth and I’d kind of blow air in his face (like, this is what you’re supposed to do with the whistle, see), which is probably rude but he thought it was hilarious. He spent the next 10 minutes walking around the house with the whistle, sometimes making silly noises, as if the silly noise would leave his mouth and make the whistle do whistle things.

For his bedtime story, Soren picked out Romeo Le Chaton, which is in French. It was Ben’s night (we alternate) and he doesn’t read or speak French (neither do I), so he made up the story. That’s a cool thing about babies — they don’t know you don’t read French and are making up the story.