He’s 9. Nine. NINE.

At this moment, 9 years ago, I had a 3.5 hour old baby boy. I was high on endorphins, scarfing down a plate of pasta someone had brought me from Romeo's, and in a state of shock over what had just happened.

A baby.

A baby?


I was so surprised that he had a smell – a real person smell on that tiny head! The tiniest fingers I'd ever seen. What appeared to be abnormally long monkey toes. I just marveled over him. And I still do, nine years later.

Eight pounds, seven ounces has turned into giant kid almost as tall as me. He's so smart, so funny, so deeply conscious of the world around him. He is now a kid at an age where I vividly remember being a kid. I find that almost as startling as I found the real human smell on his tiny baby head.

He is, now, who he will be – essentially – forever. Sure, he will have experiences that will change him. He will grow and learn. But that spark in him right now – that light of personality – that is who he will always be. He's not a baby anymore. But he is still my wee one. My big boy.

If you ever have some time to spare, I invite you to go over to the side there and click on "archives". I started this blog when the wee one was not quite 2. So many funny tales of a little boy coming into his own. And now he's 9. Still a boy, but so much more.

Nine years.



Happy birthday, crazyface. Your mama loves you, permanent markers and all.

It is not a teleporter

I should probably stop telling the kids that the new fridge is a teleporter because someone is going to try to get in it and we all know that's a bad idea.

When the deliverymen were here yesterday I just had this weird flash – what if they were delivering a teleporter? What if that's the norm in the far away future? Sweaty guys show up one afternoon in a big truck (because, ironically, you can't teleport the teleporter), wheel this huge metal thing into your house, hook it up to the wall, hand your parents an owner's manual, and then make it very clear that no one is to use it during the first 24-hour "cooling down" period.

Then there would be lengthy discussions about how teleporters are not for unaccompanied minors, and no one is to ever unlock the keypad so that the 2-year-old can bang on it. And, if when you teleport with Dad to school in the morning and forget your lunch, there will be no teleporting of the lunch to you because it is a lesson you have to learn about remembering your things.

Anyway, the new fridge is not a teleporter, which is a shame. But it will keep the food cold and it will produce ice magically from the door, so at least there's that.

I will tell you, though, it did manage to teleport a lot of money from my bank account so now the broken grill and the broken Wii will have to wait before being replaced.

And even though the broken grill can now shoot flames from its knobs, it's not a portal to the Hellmouth.

No teleporter. No Hellmouth.


C'mon, summer, at least you could send some aliens to fix the Wii.

Barney Sings the Rapture

In anticipaton of the coming Rapture, it feels like there should be a Barney episode preparing kids for what's to come. Here are some sample lyrics from the script I'm working on:


Here comes a police car
The people shout hooray!
Until it runs them over
Because the policeman wasn't Saved.


I can be anything when I grow up!
Trash sorter, horde leader, lady of the night!
I'll always do the best I can
as one of the last people alive!


If I want to be a firefighter
I’ll be a cute sacrificial lamb
And put out the fiery fire fires
In the hearts of the damned!


I'm no zombie, no I'm not!
I'm just a soul
that God forgot!


(lyrics from the inevitable rap song)

Playing in the street is A-OK
because the streets are so emp-tay!


Look both ways when you cross the street!
Here's the reason why:
A  dude looking for someone to eat
might be walking by.


People helping other people
is what this world's about
unless the Rapture is upon us
then you better fucking watch out


I love you
You love me
We're as happy as can – OH SHIT, IS THAT A FIRESTORM?!

Sun! Down! Night! Moon!

the simple pleasures
lost, overlooked, found again
moon rises in eyes

It is evident that your family doesn't get out much when the littlest member has his mind 100% blown by being outside in the dark.

Standing on a friend's backyard deck, way past his bedtime, marveling over the sounds of a quiet guitar and tall trees overhead, Ike-a-saurus spotted the moon between the branches of the trees and pointed. "Moon." He said. "Night."

"Yes," I answered quietly. "It's nighttime. It's late."

"Sun?" he whispered.

"The sun went down," I whispered back. "And the moon came up."

"Dark." He affirmed. "Dark outside. Night."

"That's right," I said. "That's what happens at night."

"Sun! Down!" he exclaimed, pointing his finger in an arc to the ground. "Moon! Trees!"

And it was like watching his brain grow right before me, an expansion in his eyes I could see reflected with the moonlight. The little boy whose world had been so protected, so contained, was out after dark, in a new place, with new people, new sounds, and he was in awe of this small, but epic expansion to his world.

I don't think I can properly describe the mix of emotions this stirs. But, overwhelmingly, good tops sad.

Maybe there's something to say about a delayed debut to the outside world. It slows time, accentuates beauty, and reminds me, like so many other things lately, how easy it is to take even the simplest experiences for granted.

Dear You Know Who of the Muggle World,

It appears some bad ass dudes busted into your house and killed you to death.

On behalf of lots of people I would like to say, "TAKE THAT."

And then, on behalf of lots of other people, I'd like to say, "But I don't mean 'TAKE THAT' in the way that would mean I want to traipse around town with sparklers and a USA bikini."

On behalf of still others, I'd like to say, "I actually mean TAKE THAT in the way you might mean it if you are shaking your head ruefully and thinking, 'You kind of asked for it, asshole.'"

But then on behalf of those people again, I'd like to say, "Not that by saying TAKE THAT I am also an asshole, I'm just saying, you were a real dick, and the USA is pretty good about showing their dick is bigger and so… this was kind of inevitable."

Though I should probably clarify, on behalf of some of the original "Take That"-ers, that there is a difference between reaping joy from a bag of dicks being killed death in his palace of many wives, and feeling kind of like, "I hope those firefighters in NYC who are heroes got to light at least one sparkler on fire in celebration."

Again, though, I would like to clarify, on behalf of still others, that by saying 'celebration' I still mean 'with humility and reverance for human life – even though it's hard to count evil incarnate as human life, even though (part II) a variety of religions say we should do it anyway.

So, in summary, on behalf of everyone in America we say, "TAKE THAT." And now we're going to continue to argue on Facebook about what we really mean for real, and whether or not our "AMERICA, FUCK YEAH" initial response can be integrated into our humanistic, liberal beliefs.

Please don't climb out of the ocean like Rasputin, or Godzilla.


concerned citizen


Some reasons why I might be grouchy today:

1. the white van behind me that kept honking and honking even though I was not the first car at the green light

2. the child that insists on talking over any other thing (radio, TV, computer, person) that is also talking

3. being reminded that at one time we had a bill for $167,000 for just, like, one day in the hospital

4. none of your business

5. bum knee

6. too much caffeine

7. laundry

8. spontaneous winter time on May 1st (though I like the rain)

9. knowing I have to deal with Medicaid travel in the next few weeks

10. no word on my book that's out on submission

11. crap everywhere

12. hands that look like crypt keeper hands

13. irritating phone calls wherein I'm made to feel like a nobody, even though I am only trying to PAY FREAKING BILLS

14. People who sing out their noses on TV

15. worry over Ike's teeth, which, yes, is a thing that is so simple I should be grateful to be worried about instead of something else, but I fear it's not so simple and some very traumatic tooth fixing is in the future and it makes me want to cry

16. Every time I write the word "grouchy" it initially comes out "grounchy"


OK, now it's time for things that don't make me grouchy:


1. NO TRACH! (which will always have to be #1 on lists like these)

2. The wee-er one is being very sweet today even though I have yelled at her twice. Sigh.

3. I have new eyeliner

4. There is a plan in place for dinner tonight

5. I'm writing a new book and I like it very much even though it's weird

6. The family "library" is almost complete

7. I did not stop the car, get out, and throw my water bottle at the windshield of the honking van because I am learning self-control, kind of

8. I have chocolate. Of many flavors and variety


What are you grounchy and not grounchy about today?