on where tinkle goes
you think just in the potty?
hoo boy, you’re so wrong

The wee one busted in on me while I was in the bathroom today.

"I need to tinkle!" he demanded.

After a stern talking to about trying to boot people off the toilet who are in the process of pottying, he got his turn.

"Where does tinkle go?" he asked while he whizzed.

"In the potty," I answered, quickly making sure that the tinkle, indeed, was going into the potty and not all over my Live in New York book on the floor.

"No, Mommy," the wee one said matter-of-factly. "Tinkle goes in swimming pools."

I thought for a moment and said, "Well, no it doesn’t. You should never tinkle in a swimming pool."

"You tinkle in the swimming pool!" the wee one accused.

"I do not!" I retorted. "Tinkle does not belong in a swimming pool!"

"Yes it does, Mommy!" the wee one argued. "The tinkle goes in the potty and then it’s washed and it makes the water for swimming pools."

At this I was struck dumb for a moment.

"Someone has been teaching you about waste water treatment plants?" I asked.

"Not PLANTS, Mommy. TINKLE."

And there you have it.


tivo season pass
unsubscription makes me sad
too old for jay jay

It’s disturbing funny how the TiVo is now a strange kind of baby book. I went through our season pass subscriptions to thin things out in preparation for the new Fall TV season (yes, I’m a dork. Yes, I love TV.) and I went through and deleted all of these season passes for the wee one.

No more Jay Jay
No more Teletubbies
No more Angelina Ballerina

He doesn’t watch them anymore. I should have deleted Sesame Street, but I couldn’t do it. I can’t believe, at three, he’s outgrown Elmo. But he could care less now. It’s Buzz Lightyear all the way, baby.


haiku-ing has slowed
heat waves impair my vision
or I am lazy

It has been so dreadfully hot I can’t do anything but wish I was naked in Siberia. Typing makes me sweat. Thinking makes me sweat. Showering makes me sweat.

And it’s not just me. Everyone in town is feeling it. People are grumpy everywhere. Traffic is worse than usual. Normally sweet tempered folks are grousing at each other in line at the grocery store. It’s hot and miserable and there’s no end in sight.

When you think about it, October isn’t that far away. But then when you think that everyday between now and then is going to be 105 degrees, well, blah. It might as well be 14 years from now.

I guess all of this is a roundabout apology for not blogging more. It’s too damn hot to think of anything entertaining to write. Plus, the only thing of any interest that’s happened lately is that I’ve gone to the eye doctor and he was a shitty-ass time-wasting blowhard who really pissed me off. woo woo.

So I’ll go eat my eggrolls and watch Star Wars and cower in my air-conditioned house. Then maybe something truly enlightening will hit me and I can finally have something to bother you with.

It’s here!

I’m so excited
scared UPS man a bit
when I clapped, hollered

The first proof of Haiku Mama has arrived! I have a few days to read it and stroke it and stare at it and then put all excitement aside and try to objectively comment on the haiku and the illustrations.

Right now, though, I have no objectivity at all. I just want to crochet a little color printout-sized holster for it and cry at it a la Holly Hunter in Raising Arizona, "I love you so mu-u-u-u-u-u-u-ch!"

The wee one (along with the UPS man) thinks I’ve officially gone insane.


so then it’s not wrong
even if you do wrong things
right? wait. I’m confused.

Lord, that was the worst haiku ever.

OK. So I’ve been thinking about all the things I do as a mother that are supposedly wrong that don’t seem to bother my kid. Then there are the things that I do that are supposedly right, and that’s what freaks him out.

For instance, I let my three-year-old watch the entire Star Wars Episode I movie, including the Darth Maul light saber duel scenes. After watching this he has not a care in the world.

Several days later I let him watch 5 minutes of Lilo and Stitch (the Disney show) and he had nightmares all night about creaky ladders and fire and Lilo.

I let him eat french fries and a popsicle for dinner the other night. All was right with the world. Then, when he eats chicken and peas his tummy is upset for a day and a half.

The other afternoon he was freaking out so I let him nap from 3:30 to 5 (!). He went to bed perfectly at 8:30. A day or two before that, he took a 45 minute nap at 1 and then didn’t go to sleep until 10 that night.


Just when I think I have the hang of it, I find out that being the worst mama ever is actually turning out to be the best thing for my kid. I don’t understand it, but I can work with it. You’d think that by now I would have learned that when books and people and web site talk about "the norm" when it comes to kids, it’s all bullshit. There is no norm. Except on Cheers. And he was no piece of cake either.

cough hack

my nose is so pissed
not usually part of
lather, rinse, repeat

I would write a witty blog post but I can’t. I’m too busy fighting off unconsciousness caused by the unavoidable STINK of accidentally washing my hair with my husband’s Head & Shoulders.

And you thought strawberry horse shampoo was strong…


mean letter, red ink
those water bill savages
can kiss my hose pipe

When you mail your water bill the day before it’s due and then it takes THE WATER COMPANY two weeks to cash your check, do you really deserve to get a nasty letter with a water turn off date in it? I mean, come on Water Assholes, if you checked your mail more than once a month you could could save a lot of postage on these damn "late" payment notices.


You wanna?

let’s be creative
not with cooking or finance
but with good story

I’m gonna start a story and you guys can add on to it. Dorky? Yes. Fun? Oh yes.

Once upon a time there was a dog named Krystal Misty.
"Why," wondered Krystal Misty, "did my owners give me a double stripper name?"
It was a question that plagued her for a very long time. She didn’t feel like a stripper dog. She didn’t want to be a stripper dog. She even contemplated changing her name, but since she couldn’t talk, she had no way of telling her owners she wanted her new name to be "Shawna."

Krystal Misty was bummed. The other dogs made fun of her and hummed "bow-chicka-wow-wow" noises whenever she walked down the street. One day Krystal Misty had had enough. She flew out of her doggie door and


it’s our new saying
not very meditative
but it works OK

Our new family mantra is this:

"If there’s a potty you can poop in it."

I’m thinking of having it cross-stitched onto a throw pillow.

My new favorite show!

I would like to think
I might have discovered this
without the tivo

Thanks to the wonders of TiVo, I’ve discovered the most hilarious show ever. Well, maybe not EVER, but it’s cute and original and the art is lovely. I know I’m probably late to the bandwagon on this, but still… check it out: Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. Uber cool.