Yes, yes, long absence, life = busy, blah di blah, no one cares.
FIRST OF ALL: Whoa, was I wrong about the deodorant thing. Apparently many of you love the advanced solid, which, although it -- to me -- appears to be crafted of lies, apparently is amazing! Live and learn, I suppose.
Moving along to other topics about which I clearly know nothing, what age is too old to still have your child in a crib?
I ask, because, well, some decisions in life get made for you. (I'm not pregnant! Hear me out here:) Like, say, if you decide to have two children literally two years apart, your older child is going to have to transfer from a crib to a bed fairly quickly, so the baby has a place to sleep. And you'll be lucky, in that he comes to this decision on his own, and with minimal fuss, but still--point is, you didn't really need to THINK about it, you know?
Then there are the other types of decisions, the ones where you get reality slapped into you, and you have to really start weighing things, and making lists of pros and cons. Like, say, if you happen to caaaaaasually mention in conversation with a relative that the "baby" -- your daughter, now two-and-a-half -- is still sleeping in a crib, and you get a HORRIFIED, BOSCH-PAINTING-LIKE TWISTED LOOK OF HORROR in return.
I had not really seen this as a big deal. Apparently it..is?
The thing is, Lo is...spirited. She reminds me a lot of my brother Goose, when he was little. Goose, who was known around our neighborhood as "Trouble," or alternately, "that perpetually naked child riding around on the Big Wheel." (As you can imagine, he loves being reminded of this.) She's a kid who gets syrup in her hair seven seconds after it's washed, then proceeds to remove her pants and do somersaults in the dining room whilst holding a princess doll. I am not making any of this up. See?
Me: J, am I making any part of that sentence up?
J: You forgot the part where she's singing The Backyardigans theme song while she's doing the somersaults.
Me: Right.
So, yeah. Add the singing to that, and you get a general idea of things. We're...skittish, and that's putting it charitably. I think our hesitance may in part be due to our experience with giving her a bed trial period this summer on vacation, or as I refer to it, "the week we all got woken up at basically 4 AM every day -- FOR THE DAY -- by the Rooster Child and sort of wanted to die, or at the very least, mainline espresso." Coupled with that, she likes sleeping in a crib. Whenever we return from weekends away, you can almost SEE the look of relief on her wee face as she swan dives into it.
So, what to do? On one hand, I know she's HAPPY in the crib, and we're happy not getting woken up when farmhands do, but on the other hand, I don't want to turn around and find myself the unwitting star of some freak-ass TLC Show called, like, Crib Moms or something, where moms...keep their teens in cribs. While hoarding coupons. Or something.
When did you move your kid(s) to a bed? Any and all advice is welcome!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Secret & Lies
I have spent the better part of the week being annoyed with a stick of deodorant.
"Now Metalia," you're probably saying to yourself, "Surely there are more important things going on in your life and the world at large, such that you realize how stupid it is to care about deodorant." And you're right, which is exactly WHY I'm choosing to care focus on the deodorant! If I don't, I'll start obsessing over why starlings are just DROPPING FROM THE DAMN SKY like misfires in Angry Birds, or why THOUSANDS OF FISH ARE SIMULTANEOUSLY DYING AS THOUGH SHREK FARTED IN A POND. So it's either focus on the deodorant, or spend my evenings constructing a doomsday shelter out of what appear to be my most abundant resources: Anthropologie cardigans, and shoes. Accordingly, it will be whimsical, yet shoddy.
I am doomed.
Deodorant it is!
I am very particular about deodorant. When I was in fourth grade, wearing deodorant -- regardless of whether it was yet necessary for you, personally -- was arbitrarily determined to be a Very Cool Thing To Do, and a subcategory of this Very Cool Thing To Do was that you had to use aerosol spray. You needed to be as obvious as possible about your Deodorant-Wearing Status, I guess, and basically, what we had there was 18 little girls -- who probably smelled perfectly fine -- constantly whipping out huge spray cans of deodorant between classes, world-weary expressions on their faces. "Oh, man. Here I go. Gotta spray the deodorant. No choice. Such is life," our world-weary expressions said. Like we weren't SECRETLY OVERJOYED to be among the deodorized. And like we'd just run back-to-back marathons, and hadn't been...sitting still, learning how to find Botswana on a map. SO much physical exertion!!
A few years later, I realized I loathed spray deodorant, (so cold! so sticky! so always-accidentally-up-my-nose-y!) and there were other options out there. After some trial and error, I realized a few things: anything in the "powder" genre makes me want to choke/barf, gel never truly dries, and ultimately, I really, really prefer solids over any other form.
Which brings me to my point.
If you were scouting out a new deodorant, and you saw the phrase "advanced solid" on the front, wouldn't you assume it was, in fact, solid? A normal, straight-up solid, advanced, perhaps, only in the degree of Magical Deodorant Protection it offered?
And not, say, an amorphous mushblob encased in hard plastic? The base of which you had to CLICK CLICK CLICK to access (which was, I'm sure, super enjoyable for others to hear at 5:50 in the goddamn morning, when you were attempting to apply it, like, for instance, your sleeping husband, and no, this isn't getting hyper-specific, this is just a normal run-of-the-mill example for everybody, ever, I don't know what you're talking about)? And then you had to smoosh the "advanced solid" out through the squiggly holes in the plastic top, in a manner reminiscent of the Play-Doh Fun Factory? Only instead of playfully crafting dough faces and spaghetti, you're stuck sort of...smearing deodorant goo around on your person? And you wonder precisely just what the hell happened?
In what way is this an advancement? In what way is this a solid?
Seriously--Is there ANYONE who likes this type of deodorant? What form do you use? And yes, I'm really asking, but I'm doing it for all of us, because: anything to keep from thinking about the dead birds. And fish. (OMG AND NOW CRABS? The Mayans were right all along!)
"Now Metalia," you're probably saying to yourself, "Surely there are more important things going on in your life and the world at large, such that you realize how stupid it is to care about deodorant." And you're right, which is exactly WHY I'm choosing to care focus on the deodorant! If I don't, I'll start obsessing over why starlings are just DROPPING FROM THE DAMN SKY like misfires in Angry Birds, or why THOUSANDS OF FISH ARE SIMULTANEOUSLY DYING AS THOUGH SHREK FARTED IN A POND. So it's either focus on the deodorant, or spend my evenings constructing a doomsday shelter out of what appear to be my most abundant resources: Anthropologie cardigans, and shoes. Accordingly, it will be whimsical, yet shoddy.
I am doomed.
Deodorant it is!
I am very particular about deodorant. When I was in fourth grade, wearing deodorant -- regardless of whether it was yet necessary for you, personally -- was arbitrarily determined to be a Very Cool Thing To Do, and a subcategory of this Very Cool Thing To Do was that you had to use aerosol spray. You needed to be as obvious as possible about your Deodorant-Wearing Status, I guess, and basically, what we had there was 18 little girls -- who probably smelled perfectly fine -- constantly whipping out huge spray cans of deodorant between classes, world-weary expressions on their faces. "Oh, man. Here I go. Gotta spray the deodorant. No choice. Such is life," our world-weary expressions said. Like we weren't SECRETLY OVERJOYED to be among the deodorized. And like we'd just run back-to-back marathons, and hadn't been...sitting still, learning how to find Botswana on a map. SO much physical exertion!!
A few years later, I realized I loathed spray deodorant, (so cold! so sticky! so always-accidentally-up-my-nose-y!) and there were other options out there. After some trial and error, I realized a few things: anything in the "powder" genre makes me want to choke/barf, gel never truly dries, and ultimately, I really, really prefer solids over any other form.
Which brings me to my point.
If you were scouting out a new deodorant, and you saw the phrase "advanced solid" on the front, wouldn't you assume it was, in fact, solid? A normal, straight-up solid, advanced, perhaps, only in the degree of Magical Deodorant Protection it offered?
And not, say, an amorphous mushblob encased in hard plastic? The base of which you had to CLICK CLICK CLICK to access (which was, I'm sure, super enjoyable for others to hear at 5:50 in the goddamn morning, when you were attempting to apply it, like, for instance, your sleeping husband, and no, this isn't getting hyper-specific, this is just a normal run-of-the-mill example for everybody, ever, I don't know what you're talking about)? And then you had to smoosh the "advanced solid" out through the squiggly holes in the plastic top, in a manner reminiscent of the Play-Doh Fun Factory? Only instead of playfully crafting dough faces and spaghetti, you're stuck sort of...smearing deodorant goo around on your person? And you wonder precisely just what the hell happened?
I have been deceived, is what I'm saying, and I will not stand for it. I mean, I will, because I can't find the receipt, but you know what I'm saying, which is that INSIDE, I'm very busy, not standing for it. SONS OF SCOTLAND, I AM WILLIAM WALLACE, and all that.
Seriously--Is there ANYONE who likes this type of deodorant? What form do you use? And yes, I'm really asking, but I'm doing it for all of us, because: anything to keep from thinking about the dead birds. And fish. (OMG AND NOW CRABS? The Mayans were right all along!)
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Elsewhere...
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