Monday, August 3, 2009


I am currently parked in procrastination station and I gots nothin', peeps, nothin' to write about. For awhile I was on a roll with the magazine stuff but now that I've started pitching (gasp!) feature articles, I'm on hold until stronger clips come out. (Hopefully I'll be able to move come September's Babble essay.) I've been so busy in magazine-land that I've totally abandoned the book, and trying to get back into that world is some seriously heavy lifting... So instead I futz and fluster, reading archived blind items on dlisted. Who knew Bruce Willis had work done? (Allegedly! Allegedly.)

The boy is 19 months now and independence is definitely being asserted. He's mastered the "don't touch me, mama" shrug (I thought that didn't start until 2rd grade) and spends an inordinate amount of time shouting "no", which he pronounces "doh" for no reason I can ascertain. To whit:

"Owen, no coloring on the TV."

"Owen, leave the plants alone."

"OWEN, no throwing food."
"Doh! Doh! Doh! Doh! DOOOOOOOOH!"

Oh doh. Oh yes. (Ba-da-CHI!)

Other new words in the repertoire: car and guy but they only pop up if prompted. Come to think of it, the only unprompted word these days is "doh". It's going to be a long month.

Say, how did you explain to your kids that sometimes other kids act like shits? Specifically when little brats bar your child from playing on public playground equipment or come up and grab something out of your sweet, adorable toddler's hand. Do you chase them down and tell them to give it back? (What if your kid happened to find it on the playground so it's not technically his - but you know it's not the other kid's toy either.) Do you say something? Preferably something passive-aggressive and within earshot of the caregiver? ("Some kids have trouble learning how to share.") Point being, this has been happening to Owen a lot and even though I know it's normal and that children are grubby little tools sometimes, I don't want him picking up on it. He's already started giving the stink-eye (that bullshitty precursor to the eyeball roll) and it makes me irrationally angry. Right now he just stands there and looks hurt when kids grab stuff away and I'm not sure how or when (or if I even should) intervene. Thoughts?

Also, I'm taking suggestions on hip, arty small towns with great public schools. Oh, and with low costs of living. Please stop laughing.

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