out, out, damn tooth (and other comments)

Man, Liam has been putting us through the ringer with the teeth he's trying to cut at the moment. And I use that term lightly, knowing that he'll still smile at the drop of a hat… it's just that he's not sleeping well and is much needier than normal. We've been walking around with him a lot lately. He's had the two bottom centers for a while, and now, weirdly, he's cut a top one off to the side… I've been calling him Billy Ray Snaggletooth. It looks like he's also trying to get one on the bottom and perhaps the top two center chompers. As Jenny McCarthy said, Don't they make baby codeine?

On a related topic, I took Aidan to the dentist yesterday. He was a champ. They did x-rays and polished and flossed and checked out his teeth and he didn't fuss or cry at all. I took him to a pediatric dentist, so it would be more pleasant, and they have that crap down. There's a TV in the waiting room that Dora was playing on, the walls are covered in murals of underwater scenes and animals. He didn't want to leave. The bad news – he has a cavity already. Hats off to Mom for being so not diligent about making him brush. We have to go back for a filling in a week or so. On an unrelated topic, in case you haven't heard, I just purchased the most hilarious t-shirt ever created. It's from Torsopants.com. It has this on the front:

I've realized through the purchase of this shirt, that there must be a lot of people out there that I would like to hang out with, or at least enough of them to warrant the purchase of this shirt. There can only be a very slim demographic of people who can appreciate both the reference to the Kelis song and the hilarity of relating it to Marxist and feminist dialectic. Hell, there can only be a handful of people on the planet who know the Kelis song and can loosely define the word "dialectic."

Tony got one too, but his isn't as funny. It's got a centaur on it and it says ORIGINAL HYBRID. Still funny, and he gets a kick out of it, but mine is better. 

freaky kiddie videos

If you want to see the weirdest kiddie video I've ever seen, go out and purchase or rent the Maurice Sendak video that features Where the Wild Things Are. Aidan got really into that book for a while, and they had the DVD at the library, so we brought it home and then, of course, saw it a million times in a few weeks.

The last cartoon on there is called In the Night Kitchen, which I presume is off of a book, but I've never heard of it. It's like an acid trip or something. It's for kids, but it features, among other things, full frontal animated and anatomically correct male nudity (of the little boy), three identical creepy chefs that look like Oliver Hardy (of Laurel and Hardy), a kid that gets baked into a bread/cake, and some creepy narrative music/lyrics.

Of course, it was inevitable: this was Aidan's favorite one on the entire DVD, so I got to see it ten times more than the others.

woman takes bat to xbox

So I'm starting to understand why you hear news stories where a wife destroys a man's gaming system in the middle of the street and gets arrested for disturbing the peace. Tony got the new Grand Theft Auto, and for some reason, he thinks it's necessary to tell me every little detail. I can't even go in the room to change into my pajamas without his going into the minutiae of what's going on in the game at that moment. "My best friend just got out of jail and he found out his girlfriend's been running around with the guy who ratted him out, so I'm going to off him." It's either details about the story or about the game itself. "The cars are a lot more realistic this time... the crappy cars are harder to drive..."

Apparently, if you're an Xbox fan, hey, I hear the new GTA is a good buy. Ugh.

friendship maintenance

So today is Shannon's birthday. For those of you who don't know, Shannon was a really good friend of mine in middle/high school and some after. She was probably the friend with whom I spent the most time in high school. When we graduated, she went to one school and I went to another, and we kept hanging out for a while, but then a variety of annoying and stupid things happened, not the least of which was at least one of us going insane, not that I'm naming names :), and the friendship ended, probably around 1996 or 1997. God, that's been over ten years ago now, which is unbelievable.

Anyway, that got me thinking about friendship maintenance. Unless there's a situation where someone goes insane, and it does happen, as we all know, the most likely reason that friendships end is that people don't put forth any effort at maintaining them. I can't say I'm great at this, because frankly, I detest talking on the phone so much that if someone isn't willing to stay in contact via the internet, or even written letters/postcards, chances are I'm not in touch with them.

A lot of people think that common interests, lifestyles, locations need to exist for staying friends, and I hear a lot about people who say they can't stay friends with anyone because those things aren't there.

I'll just tell you this - with Jenny as my example. Jenny and I have many differences. We differ greatly on political views, we don't really listen to the same kind of music, most of the books we read aren't the same. Our life experiences have differed. We've dated/married guys that the other person didn't like. We've had at least one massive falling out. We've pissed each other off more than once. And until we were both married to our current spouses, I'd say our lifestyles differed greatly - since I was single when she wasn't and then she was single when I wasn't and I had kids before her. And needless to say, we don't live close to one another. I'm saying, even if you look at the way we look/dress/fix our hair, you'd probably not pair us up.

The difference is that we both put effort into staying in contact. There are people that I am ambivalent about that I was once good friends with because while I attempted to maintain contact, they did things that made it clear that maintaining a friendship with me wasn't a priority even to send an email or something. And there are people that I literally haven't seen in years that I still consider some of my really good friends, like people from school who are all over the place. And here's my salute to you, people who keep in contact with me! I really appreciate your continued friendship maintenance effort! Since blog readers and hotmail are most of my social life, you are irreplaceable!

On an unrelated topic, do clothes shrink in length as they hang in a closet unworn? Why are all my clothes from pre-Liam too short, but still fit otherwise? I guess maybe I'm wider - but then wouldn't they be really tight? Maybe it's my chest. Anyway, I have to hit Old Navy today because I tried on six shirts this morning and none hid my stomach when I lifted my arms.

school then and now

Sorry, I have never posted a forward before, but this one is so true...

SCHOOL -- 1957 vs. 2007

Scenario : Jack goes quail hunting before school, pulls into school parking lot with shotgun in gun rack.
1957 - Vice Principal comes over, looks at Jack's shotgun, goes to his car and gets his shotgun to show Jack.
2007 - School goes into lock down, FBI called, Jack hauled off to jail and never sees his truck or gun again.. Counselors called in for traumatized students and teachers.

Scenario: Johnny and Mark get into a fistfight after school.
1957 - Crowd gathers. Mark wins. Johnny and Mark shake hands and end up buddies.
2007 - Police called, SWAT team arrives, arrests Johnny and Mark. Charge them with assault, both expelled even though Johnny started it.

Scenario: Jeffrey won't be still in class, disrupts other students.
1957 - Jeffrey sent to office and given a good paddling by the Principal. Returns to class, sits still and does not disrupt class again.
2007 - Jeffrey given huge doses of Ritalin. Becomes a zombie. Tested for ADD. School gets extra money from state because Jeffrey has a disability.

Scenario: Billy breaks a window in his neighbor's car and his Dad gives him a whipping with his belt.
1957 - Billy is more careful next time, grows up normal, goes to college, and becomes a successful businessman.
2007 - Billy's dad is arrested for child abuse. Billy removed to foster care and joins a gang. State psychologist tells Billy's sister that she remembers being abused herself and their dad goes to prison. Billy's mom has affair with psychologist.

Scenario: Mark gets a headache and takes some aspirin to school.
1957 - Mark shares aspirin with Principal out on the smoking dock.
2007 - Police called, Mark expelled from school for drug violations. Car searched for drugs and weapons.

Scenario: Pedro fails high school English.1
957 - Pedro goes to summer school, passes English, goes to college.
2007 - Pedro's cause is taken up by state. Newspaper articles appear nationally explaining that teaching English as a requirement for graduation is racist. ACLU files class action lawsuit against state school system and Pedro's English teacher. English banned from core curriculum. Pedro given diploma anyway but ends up mowing lawns for a living because he cannot speak English.

Scenario: Johnny takes apart leftover firecrackers from 4th of July, puts them in a model airplane paint bottle, blows up a red antbed.
1957 - Ants die.
2007- BATF, Homeland Security, FBI called. Johnny charged with domestic terrorism, FBI investigates parents, siblings removed from home, computers confiscated, Johnny's Dad goes on a terror watch list and is never allowed to fly again.

Scenario: Johnny falls while running during recess and scrapes his knee. He is found crying by his teacher, Mary. Mary hugs him to comfort him.
1957 - In a short time, Johnny feels better and goes on playing.
2007 - Mary is accused of being a sexual predator and loses her job. She faces 3 years in State Prison. Johnny undergoes 5 years of therapy.

Currently reading: Pop-Porn: Pornography in American Culture

the little munch, etc.

So I have a topic for a blog, but I am in a blah mood today, so I will wait till I'm in a better mood to type it up in a more positive fashion. Instead, I have a few random comments.

How can we tell Aidan's got my nurture added to his nature? Last night, I put his Thomas the Tank Engine underwear over his sleeping diaper, and before he went to bed he said he had to take the underwear off. I asked why. He said, after a few moments to think, "They're too Thomasy." I guess when there's no real word or reason, adding a "y" is always acceptable. Hence my continuous use of the phrase "English teachery."

I took Liam to story time today and met yet another bitch librarian. I'll write about the first bitch librarian later. Anyway, this one was idiotic - expecting people to keep their kids in perfect circles and sitting for the songs and stories. Hello, lady - it's storytime for ages birth to two!

On a related note, there was a little boy there named Strummer.

And there, were it not for the grace of God, goes the child of me and all my friends who used to date musicians but thankfully waited until we weren't with musicians to have kids.

Currently reading: Into the Wild

heeeeeere's jme

You know you've been living away from your hometown too long when you have a dream that you are waiting for a friend for lunch, and you run into random idiots from high school and you talk to them briefly. They say, "hey, it's jme."

And when you wake up, you realize how awesome and weird was that to run into someone who knows you by your first name! It's been literally FOREVER since I saw someone randomly who knew me by anything other than Mrs. Fieldpea. Which is not only weird in that you're referred to constantly by your "teacher name" but also weird because, in essence, Fieldpea isn't even the name that half the people you've met in your life know you by. It's really weird to live somewhere where NO ONE knows you as your birt name.

our song

So when Tony and I got married, we (or, I guess, I) picked the "first dance song", an appropriate wedding song, lovey dovey and nice, a song I still love and have always loved: "Feels Like Home" by Bonnie Raitt.

However, if we had to pick "our song," our real song would be "Down Together" by The Refreshments. It is very us, particularly before we had kids. Here are the lyrics:

We could write our names here in the mud
No one's around to see them
We could hang our shoes here in a tree
No one's around to steal them
I could give you a star
You could give me one too
And that way we'd be even
And I could sing a song way out of tune
And not care a bit about it

We could both wear cowboy hats
And pretend that we could speak Italian
I could eat some gum
And make my breath so minty fresh
To kiss you
Your breath will smell like wine
I like that a lot
Especially when I kiss you
And I could hit my funny bone real hard
And you could call me sweetheart

And who ever said there's nothing new under the sun
Never thought much about individuals
But he's dead anyway

Let's go down together
Down together
Well, let's go down together
Down together
Down together

We could all wear ripped up clothes
And pretend that we were Dead Hot Workshop
I could drive a long long way
And not even have the gas to make it back
We could chase our shadows around the lawn
until we're both exhausted
I could forget the words here one more time
and hope that no one notices

And who ever said there's nothing new under the sun
Never thought much about me

Yeah, well, what's good for you is good for me
And what's bad for you is bad for me and
What's good for you is good for me
And what's bad for you is bad for me
Well, cars break down and people break down and other things break down too, so let's go
down together
down together
down together
let's go down together
down together
down together
let's go
Alright! alright!
we could find a speck of dust and scribble down our life stories

pageant of the bizarre

You know, oftentimes I think perhaps I'm a few cards short of a full deck. When I step on a crack with my left foot but not with my right foot and my left foot feels distinctly heavier for an indeterminate period of time afterwards, I think perhaps I should see someone about brain chemicals other than my GP. When I experience extreme annoyance upon hearing the incorrect grammar in Fergie's "Big Girls Don't Cry" ("I'm gonna miss you like a child misses THEIR blanket" -- it's HER blanket, jackass), I think perhaps OCD therapy is really in order.

I also sometimes think that other people are insane. Like when a student emails me to tell me that he won't be in class today because he overslept... like that's an excuse. Even more, when I look around the living room at these two little humans and think, Who in the world let me take these kids home to raise?

That said, a few of my peeps have, in the past, joined eHarmony, that internet dating/matchmaking site. Some have had friendly experiences, some haven't dated at all... regardless, they still send you matches occasionally, even if you don't use them for a while.

Behold. Hark. I have found the definition of "crazy." It lies within this particular profile, for a "prize" named Michael. This is not made up! I didn't change anything! It's straight off of a match email someone forwarded to me.

The one thing Michael is most passionate about:
Being a good father and my own spiritual evolution; dwelling in the peace that I have found.

The most important thing Michael is looking for in a person is:
That she is capable of feeling as deeply as I do; that she is not afraid of passionate abandon; that she know what it is to dwell within the unseen and the boundless.

The first thing you'll probably notice about Michael when you meet him:
I don't see how this can possibly be known.

The one thing Michael wishes MORE people would notice about him is:
I do not wish for things such as this.

Michael typically spends his leisure time:
Reading worthy books; cuddling with my children; making love.

The things Michael can't live without are:
Air
Water
Food
Shelter
Anything else is illusion.

The last book Michael read and enjoyed:
The Tao Te Ching. It is a book about everything and nothing. What I liked most? "... ..."

Some additional information Michael wanted you to know is:
If you need to move slowly, I'm not the one. If you are unable to lay your spirit bare, I'm not the one. And, if attention, affection, communication and touch make you feel "smothered," then definitely... I'm not the one.

books and movies

Latest book/film comments based on what I've read and watched recently...

Lucky by Alice Sebold. An autobiographical book about Sebold's rape and aftermath. This was a GOOD book. I posted an angry response to the first chapter, which detailed the rape, earlier.

The Future Dictionary of America. I also posted some favorite entries from this one. Not a "reading book," more like a "perusing book."

Her Last Death. This was a well-written memoir, unbelievable in the stories it tells. If this stuff is true, for goodness sakes, there are some people who grow up totally screwed up. Not really funny, but interesting and cool to see how one grows out of a bad situation.

All the King's Men. Okay, I didn't read this one. I didn't have any desire to do so after reading the first two pages. I'm sure it's a good book, and I'll see the film, but I'm not wasting my time on a book that reminds me of something I'd be forced to read (style-wise), when there are so many other books out there.

White Oleander. Excellent book. I've not yet seen the film, but it's a good book. A girl with another crazy mom and the girl's trip through the foster care system and search for self. Sounds cheesier than it is.

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. I didn't read every chapter, but the chapters I was interested in were interesting, that's for sure.

The Book of Vice. Very interesting book. Just look up the subject.


Movies:

Sweeney Todd. Gotta say. Didn't particularly like it. Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter are always enjoyable, but wasn't into the movie.

Henry and June. Excellent. Not for the easily offended. Since Anais Nin's books were largely erotica/journals, take your cue from that. Interestingly, starred Uma Thurman and the French girl who played Bruce Willis's girlfriend in Pulp Fiction. I wonder if they met again during Pulp Fiction and talked about this one, years before.

A Jonestown documentary. Incredibly interesting. Very good.

The two Tarantino Grindhouse features. Okay, I only watched Planet Terror. I didn't feel like seeing a seventeen-minute car chase to watch the other one. PT was a good comic booky film though.

Big Love, Season One. This show is pretty good. I like the actors, and while I don't know if it'd be something I'd make an appointment to watch on TV weekly, it is entertaining on DVD.

There Will Be Blood. No, thanks. I love Daniel Day-Lewis, as we all know, and he's a great actor, but I didn't care for the movie, and that was only compounded by the fact that it was three hours long and had few, if any, likeable characters.

The Believer. Not so good. Indie.

Next up for reading and viewing:
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. This month's book club pick.
Youth en Acadie by George Arceneaux. Recommended by Ashley, relative of author.
Failure to Launch. Sarah Jessica Parker, etc.
Donnie Darko. Presumably, everyone knows this one.
White Oleander. Based on book, of course.

my new favorite songs

Thought I'd post my new favorite song list, in case anyone wants to groove jme-style from long distance... btw - I'm ignoring punctuation, grammar Nazis. Some of these are, yes, just songs I'd love to karaoke to, but most of them are just groovy cool-daddy songs, cuz.

1963 by Rachael Yamagata (love this one)
You Know That I'm No Good by Amy Winehouse
Beautiful Disaster (live version only - important!) by Kelly Clarkson
Beautiful Secrets by Sarah Blasko
Breathe In by Frou Frou
Come On Petunia by The Blow (I love this one too)
Holding Out for a Hero by Frou Frou
I Want You by Rachael Yamagata (another one I love)
Irvine by Kelly Clarkson
Lullaby by the Dixie Chicks
Not Ready to Make Nice by the Dixie Chicks
Polite Dance Song by The Bird and the Bee
Hazy Shade of Winter by The Bangles
True Affection by The Blow

Let me know what you think!

question

Here's a quandary:

Why in the world do they put pockets on infant clothes? Do they think they're going to have things to carry? Infant cell phones, keys, a little cash and an ID to hit the club. All they do is annoy me, because they won't lay down and even my pygmy hands are too big to fit in to make them lay down right.

a favorite poem by someone else

I was thinking about this poem the other day. I just love it. I don't know if it's the words or the subject matter or the fact that, since I've spent a little time at social gatherings with the author's wife, I can picture her saying the last lines, with her face that reminds me so much of Jami Gertz, whom I love, and with her awesome homey Cajun accent.

From Come Rain, Come Shine by Jack Bedell, 2006
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Last Supper

Because my wife's the kind of woman
who'd rather see a prison museum
than tour the oldest home in Huntsville,
I find myself in rows of homemade pistols
forged from pipe, shieves filed down from spoons,
and knives made from angle-iron
splayed like Christmas trees to go in easy,
come out like a world of hurt.

The walls around are plastered with oddments:
rodeo flyers, a letter from Clyde Barker
to Henry Ford praising his V-8,
a century of newsclippings announcing riots,
executions, politicians' visits,
craft shows, and new construction --
simple enough for the prison's resume.

A life-sized cell and Old Sparky
frame the whole experience.
The distance between the two could never be enough
for a man who knows the day he's going to die.
I can't wrap my mind around the deliberation
it would take to button my shirt for the last time
or to order my last meal prepared fire hot
and in enough bowls so none of it would touch.

The weight of a man's choices bears down on me
in the menu cards taped to the glass,
and nothing I could choose would lend faith
or direction enough to make Death close up shop
and shuffle back down the hall.

My wife slips in behind me to study scene
as quiet as a warden in the witness box.
"Soft-shelled crabs," she says into my ear."
I wouldn't even have to think about it."

sparta will need sons.

So I made my first attempt at cutting Aidan's hair, my first time to cut anyone's hair in my life. His hair grows so fast and it isn't cooperative at all, and it's not like a girl where I could just slap it in a ponytail. I'd mentioned it to Carol a few times, because she usually cuts it, but she's been busy and I just got tired of looking at it standing up on end.

Last night I took him downstairs to the bathroom and plugged in the Peanut clippers and put the "longest" guard on it (yeah, right) and let him tool around with it. He cut some of it, but of course I still had to do it. I was hoping by letting him play with it that he'd not mind, but I still had to essentially put him on my lap and hold him down and buzz him while he hollered. Then I brought him upstairs and distracted him while I did some touch up with some kiddie scissors.
Needless to say, a fashion model he is not. Tony made numerous critical and funny comments, the best being that Aidan looks like he's going to a casting for the movie 300.

blahg

Just a random blog for today.

Aidan has been doing well with the potty training. He successful went fifteen days (daytime only) with no accidents, so he got his "fishies." We got him a little aquarium with two goldfish, one gold and one calico, which he immediately, and with great originality, named Nemo and Marlin. It's been three days and they're still alive, so we'll see.

Liam is sitting up completely on his own now. He still doing the lunge and throw "crawl", not actually on his hands and knees, but he can get anywhere he wants with a lot of effort. Today we'll be moving the mattress down on the baby bed for the last time in our lives... at least for our own children.

School starts on Tuesday. I cannot get motivated to do anything. When I don't have anything rushing me, no grading or planning or reading or anything, I can't get motivated to do anything else, not cleaning or exercising or organizing. It's like I have to be on a crunch to get anything done. So I am hoping once school starts, I can get back on the housecleaning train.

I am in search of a hobby. One that isn't too expensive and that I can do while sitting with the kids. I bought a cheap-o knitting thing, but I lost the stupid book, and that isn't the first time I've tried knitting. I haven't given up, but I'm not feeling hopeful. I also bought a punch-thread kit from this cheap magazine for a few bucks, but that doesn't work worth a crap. That was disappointing. I can't read while sitting with the kids because I have to be able to talk to Aidan. Anyone have any ideas? Anyone know anything about cross-stitching? I wouldn't mind doing something crafty like that if it was easy to carry around. I wouldn't mind if it produced stuff as long as it's somewhat cute. Like, I could do baby gifts or pillows or something, or make scarves, but I don't want anything that is useless like hook rugs. I walked around Hobby Lobby, but it's so much and I know nothing about craftiness. It's not in my blood. Any ideas?

I'm also thinking about volunteering at the library, just a few hours a week. I've decided if I win the lottery, I am going to quit teaching and go get a job at Barnes and Noble. I just want to be able to run the computer or cash register, put stuff in alphabetical order, and be up on all the cool books.

a poem by a friend of mine

My friend Andrea the poet wrote this and posted it to her blog. It's the best, saddest, most real, most tugging poem I've read in a long time. Probably not of the taste of some, but it's going to be inspiring and moving to others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the Children I Will Not Have

I hope you do not think me callous,
that today in the store I do not turn my head
to look at the cribs or highchairs.
Instead, I leave them to collect dust motes and other buyers,
busy as I am, a to-do list crumpled in my pocket.

I have left you in the cold of non-conception,
though I am sure you have waited for your number to be called.
I once dreamt that I had birthed you, and that you were ill.
In the confusion of waking, I do not know if I cried
because my lover was a woman or because I could not fail you.

There is nothing on this to-do list that asks me softly
for my attentions, no gaps in the planning.
If I walk through the grocery aisle,
I will not be the only one browsing grapes wistfully,
looking for the better of the bunches,
thinking I might've done something ultimately
less lonely, ultimately, more expected.

There is the damage of doing
and the damage of not doing.
I have seen a short look in your grandmother's eyes,
only to cut it with the affirmation
that I will not take a man,
that you cannot be a happy accident.
I am passing thirty, and time stares at me:
inaction becomes a choice, like neglect,
and then the memory of having been able
to do almost anything.

Andrea Barton