Dharma Brand Baby Formula or Adoptive Lactation?
I don't know if this is spoilery or not because it's such a small plot line, but if you're waiting for the DVDs don't blame me if I ruin anything for you in the next two paragraphs. It's pretty much your own fault for not sacrificing your social life and family every Thursday or Wednesday night for the last 3 years like the rest of us. No offense, Tessa and Chris.
Fact: "LOST" is such an insanely-detail oriented show, weaving flashbacks with flash-forwards and intricate plot twists, often digging up details and nuances many of us barely remember from past seasons. Which makes it even more infuriating that Baby Aaron hasn't eaten in like 3 episodes now.
I know the idea of adoptive lactation or re-lactation is a little much for a major network, but they could have at least tried to show a case of Dharma (TM) Formula or maybe a bottle? Or fashioning island-made formula out of coconut milk and sea vegetables or freshly-milked Dharma (TM) goats? Or them digging through the salvaged passenger luggage for formula? FEED THE BABY. Babies are rarely "fine, not a scratch!" after not eating in at least a night and a morning.
Otherwise: good show, good show!
5.27.2008
Oh, Oprah.
Oprah!
My husband just sent me this forward, so I feel like I should probably comment on the matter. He wrote, "did you see this already?" and I just wanted to flail my arms about and maybe kick a little. YES I have heard already.
Oprah! Vegan!
Let's back it up a little. I have a not exactly love-hate but more like admiration-irritation relationship with Oprah, as does, I assume, the rest of the country. She does a lot of good. A lot. She's also filthy rich and well-appointed so she'd better do a lot of good. Still, I understand that she gets too much grief, some of it from me.
When Oprah started a book club and started putting her little "O" sticker on the front cover of so many of my favorite books, I got a little defensive. But still, let's read, America!
When Oprah ran a marathon in 4 hours and 29 minutes, I got a little defensive. I can do that, I said to myself. "If Oprah can do it..." the familiar refrain echoed through so many of our training runs that season. People even had shirts heralding her finishing time or something like "Beat Oprah." Note: P.Diddy actually did set out to beat Oprah and succeeded. As the training runs got longer, and we all got slower, the 4:29 pace seemed to be quickly slithering away from us. "Well, sure, she had a staff of dozens training her, cooking for her, advising her, etc. If I had her staff then sure, I'd be able to do a 4:29 marathon, blah blah blah" became our new refrain. I missed her finishing time by exactly 15 minutes, but because 4:44 (and 16 seconds) was still a respectable finishing time and you know how I am with the awkward compliment-taking skills, I quickly summoned Oprah to deflect a little. "Next time I'll hire a personal trainer and maybe I'll beat Oprah?"
Oprah always just sort of symbolized The Masses to me. Whatever Oprah does, The Masses will follow. And I'm no longer obscure and angst-ridden for loving that formerly-obscure but still angst ridden book that nobody had heard of before the O Sticker. And that, technically, is the only side effect of Oprah.
But! Visiting Farm Sanctuary! Going vegan (temporarily)! My own going-vegan story is almost as Hollywoody and gimicky, but I just don't get paid as much nor do I inspire millions to do the same. But with a personal staff...! I kid. But maybe she read my blog when I decided to try veganism for 30 days but kept going for 4 years! "If Julia can do it!" she said to her producer one afternoon as she strained her eyes to read my annoying font, and then she tried to subscribe to my RSS feed so that she would remember who inspired her to go vegan for a few weeks, but couldn't figure out how to do it so she gave up and forgot all about me.
Anyway, it's officially time for me to Give Oprah Credit. Go vegan, my friends. Not because Oprah and her personal chef and personal nutritionist can do it, but because someone reputable and non-PETA-y is finally shedding light on some serious environmental and ethical consequences associated with raising animals for food.
Rhubarb wheat-free crepes for breakfast? Maybe not, but hopefully The Masses will now be more likely to think about clearing a space on their plates for plants. While reading an angst-ridden, gorgeously-cover-ed novel. While stretching before their long run.
My husband just sent me this forward, so I feel like I should probably comment on the matter. He wrote, "did you see this already?" and I just wanted to flail my arms about and maybe kick a little. YES I have heard already.
Oprah! Vegan!
Let's back it up a little. I have a not exactly love-hate but more like admiration-irritation relationship with Oprah, as does, I assume, the rest of the country. She does a lot of good. A lot. She's also filthy rich and well-appointed so she'd better do a lot of good. Still, I understand that she gets too much grief, some of it from me.
When Oprah started a book club and started putting her little "O" sticker on the front cover of so many of my favorite books, I got a little defensive. But still, let's read, America!
When Oprah ran a marathon in 4 hours and 29 minutes, I got a little defensive. I can do that, I said to myself. "If Oprah can do it..." the familiar refrain echoed through so many of our training runs that season. People even had shirts heralding her finishing time or something like "Beat Oprah." Note: P.Diddy actually did set out to beat Oprah and succeeded. As the training runs got longer, and we all got slower, the 4:29 pace seemed to be quickly slithering away from us. "Well, sure, she had a staff of dozens training her, cooking for her, advising her, etc. If I had her staff then sure, I'd be able to do a 4:29 marathon, blah blah blah" became our new refrain. I missed her finishing time by exactly 15 minutes, but because 4:44 (and 16 seconds) was still a respectable finishing time and you know how I am with the awkward compliment-taking skills, I quickly summoned Oprah to deflect a little. "Next time I'll hire a personal trainer and maybe I'll beat Oprah?"
Oprah always just sort of symbolized The Masses to me. Whatever Oprah does, The Masses will follow. And I'm no longer obscure and angst-ridden for loving that formerly-obscure but still angst ridden book that nobody had heard of before the O Sticker. And that, technically, is the only side effect of Oprah.
But! Visiting Farm Sanctuary! Going vegan (temporarily)! My own going-vegan story is almost as Hollywoody and gimicky, but I just don't get paid as much nor do I inspire millions to do the same. But with a personal staff...! I kid. But maybe she read my blog when I decided to try veganism for 30 days but kept going for 4 years! "If Julia can do it!" she said to her producer one afternoon as she strained her eyes to read my annoying font, and then she tried to subscribe to my RSS feed so that she would remember who inspired her to go vegan for a few weeks, but couldn't figure out how to do it so she gave up and forgot all about me.
Anyway, it's officially time for me to Give Oprah Credit. Go vegan, my friends. Not because Oprah and her personal chef and personal nutritionist can do it, but because someone reputable and non-PETA-y is finally shedding light on some serious environmental and ethical consequences associated with raising animals for food.
Rhubarb wheat-free crepes for breakfast? Maybe not, but hopefully The Masses will now be more likely to think about clearing a space on their plates for plants. While reading an angst-ridden, gorgeously-cover-ed novel. While stretching before their long run.
5.24.2008
Things to do.
Things to do.
I used to be a compulsive list-er. I made to-do lists to pass time and sometimes I would even start my lists with "1. Make to-do list" just so I could have a momentous taste of achievement by crossing that one off and it's kind of like how some writers say that you should start writing a new song/book/whatever by writing down something you already know or have memorized first until your pen and thoughts take off somewhere else.
Since I became a mother I've felt like the number of big picture wish list items or even simple tasks has increased tenfold. However, I hardly ever make lists anymore. In that spirit, I'm going to force myself to make some right now. My favorite lists always involve big ideas next to day to day things like "rice milk" or "call Shawna*."
So whenever the mood strikes me I'm just going to unload a handful of items. Maybe 25 at a time like everyone else on the internet? You all know I don't have that kind of self-discipline, so let's all be happy with what we get. I think I'll start with 10.
Things to do before I die or run out of rice milk:
1. Actually, we're totally out of rice milk.
2. Hike the Coast-to-Coast trail across northern England.
3. Find my green card.
4. Get a scoop of compost worms from Diane.
5. Hang house numbers above the front door.
6. Hang caterpillar hook in Ollie's room.
7. Home-birth a baby.
8. Buy 2 more big floor pillows for living room.
9. Archive 3886 never-to-be-read unread messages in gmail.
10. Listen well.
Oh, sweet list of neatly numbered items, it is so hard to stop at just 10 but I must. I missed you so.
__
* - I am kind of cheating here because I really do need to call Shawna, and I didn't even use up one of my 10 items to remind myself! O, thy sneaky fox. But look how honest I was with the rice milk.
I used to be a compulsive list-er. I made to-do lists to pass time and sometimes I would even start my lists with "1. Make to-do list" just so I could have a momentous taste of achievement by crossing that one off and it's kind of like how some writers say that you should start writing a new song/book/whatever by writing down something you already know or have memorized first until your pen and thoughts take off somewhere else.
Since I became a mother I've felt like the number of big picture wish list items or even simple tasks has increased tenfold. However, I hardly ever make lists anymore. In that spirit, I'm going to force myself to make some right now. My favorite lists always involve big ideas next to day to day things like "rice milk" or "call Shawna*."
So whenever the mood strikes me I'm just going to unload a handful of items. Maybe 25 at a time like everyone else on the internet? You all know I don't have that kind of self-discipline, so let's all be happy with what we get. I think I'll start with 10.
Things to do before I die or run out of rice milk:
1. Actually, we're totally out of rice milk.
2. Hike the Coast-to-Coast trail across northern England.
3. Find my green card.
4. Get a scoop of compost worms from Diane.
5. Hang house numbers above the front door.
6. Hang caterpillar hook in Ollie's room.
7. Home-birth a baby.
8. Buy 2 more big floor pillows for living room.
9. Archive 3886 never-to-be-read unread messages in gmail.
10. Listen well.
Oh, sweet list of neatly numbered items, it is so hard to stop at just 10 but I must. I missed you so.
__
* - I am kind of cheating here because I really do need to call Shawna, and I didn't even use up one of my 10 items to remind myself! O, thy sneaky fox. But look how honest I was with the rice milk.
5.22.2008
Walkie Talkie.
Walkie Talkie.
Ollie has been "walking" for over a month now, taking steps ever since a few days after his birthday, but he really started to opt for the two legged method as his primary mode of transportation just about two and a half weeks ago. And you're just hearing about it now. I know. I never write, I never call.
His language has also taken off. He's kind of gotten lazy with the signs lately, which is slightly frustrating because I'm like a freaking puppet sometimes with all of my examples of signs. I have to stop myself from saying "look at mama!" all the time trying to get him to look at me doing the sign. Listen, self, it's more important that he enjoy the tree than watch you wave your arm about, my less-interesting, flesh-colored tree. Actually, he can sign "tree," so that was a lousy example. But I think he's making up for signing with actual words. I'm happy with either. Actually, I'm 100% content with the "baapdabaaavvffba" he says after interrupting himself nursing to look me straight in the eye, and then he gives me a giant sloppy kiss on the mouth. Oh, my heart. I baapdabaaavvffba you too, little man.
So, since language is both verbal and sign-y at this point, I'll list all of his words in both forms.
sign language (asl) he will do himself
- nurse (milk)
- more (although he's more likely to point at what he wants to eat)
- eat (again, he's just going to point. but we have seen this sign)
- stars (oh god, this one is adorable) (and kind of much more useless than the above signs? but for some reason, it comes up ALL THE TIME).
- car
- dog (we use a non-ASL sign (panting), and is always coupled with a loud DOG ("DUH")).
- mouse (kind of. he moves his finger over MY nose)
- tree
- hat
- music (again, non-ASL. I do use the ASL sign all the time, but ollie just stands in front of the silent stereo/instrument and "dances," indicating that he wants the music turned on.)
- drum (I don't think this is an ASL sign)
- airplane (kind of - he doesn't quite do the intricate finger work)
- light
verbal words
- cat (although he hasn't used this one in a while)
- hat (sounds exactly like cat)
- hot
- ball (repeatedly, all day long with the ball-ing)
- dog (repeatedly, all day long with the dog-ing)
- woof woof
- toes/toast (these things are exactly the same in his mind)
- shoes (it sounds like "shits") (i'm totally serious)
- mama
- dada
- rock
- pup
- bat (he said this once)
- water (more like wawa, of course)
I'm only partially bragging. I'm mostly just writing it all out so I'll remember.
Ollie has been "walking" for over a month now, taking steps ever since a few days after his birthday, but he really started to opt for the two legged method as his primary mode of transportation just about two and a half weeks ago. And you're just hearing about it now. I know. I never write, I never call.
His language has also taken off. He's kind of gotten lazy with the signs lately, which is slightly frustrating because I'm like a freaking puppet sometimes with all of my examples of signs. I have to stop myself from saying "look at mama!" all the time trying to get him to look at me doing the sign. Listen, self, it's more important that he enjoy the tree than watch you wave your arm about, my less-interesting, flesh-colored tree. Actually, he can sign "tree," so that was a lousy example. But I think he's making up for signing with actual words. I'm happy with either. Actually, I'm 100% content with the "baapdabaaavvffba" he says after interrupting himself nursing to look me straight in the eye, and then he gives me a giant sloppy kiss on the mouth. Oh, my heart. I baapdabaaavvffba you too, little man.
So, since language is both verbal and sign-y at this point, I'll list all of his words in both forms.
sign language (asl) he will do himself
- nurse (milk)
- more (although he's more likely to point at what he wants to eat)
- eat (again, he's just going to point. but we have seen this sign)
- stars (oh god, this one is adorable) (and kind of much more useless than the above signs? but for some reason, it comes up ALL THE TIME).
- car
- dog (we use a non-ASL sign (panting), and is always coupled with a loud DOG ("DUH")).
- mouse (kind of. he moves his finger over MY nose)
- tree
- hat
- music (again, non-ASL. I do use the ASL sign all the time, but ollie just stands in front of the silent stereo/instrument and "dances," indicating that he wants the music turned on.)
- drum (I don't think this is an ASL sign)
- airplane (kind of - he doesn't quite do the intricate finger work)
- light
verbal words
- cat (although he hasn't used this one in a while)
- hat (sounds exactly like cat)
- hot
- ball (repeatedly, all day long with the ball-ing)
- dog (repeatedly, all day long with the dog-ing)
- woof woof
- toes/toast (these things are exactly the same in his mind)
- shoes (it sounds like "shits") (i'm totally serious)
- mama
- dada
- rock
- pup
- bat (he said this once)
- water (more like wawa, of course)
I'm only partially bragging. I'm mostly just writing it all out so I'll remember.
5.11.2008
The best mother's day mama could ever dream of.
The best mother's day gift mama could ever dream of.
I can't write much, because I'm working on a deadline, but I just went through to the kitchen and ERIK HAS CLEANED ALL THE DISHES AND CLEANED THE COUNTERTOPS. Let me give you a little backstory.
Two people love each other very much and have a baby and live in a charming house with no dishwasher. Baby is hard work. Housework suffers. One person puts in 12 hour days (well, 9 hour days + 3 hours of train riding). Other person edits (interesting! but time-consuming!) dissertations whenever the baby is asleep. Two people also watch the Twin Peaks DVD box set whenever possible; I'm just throwing that in there so you don't think I'm a robot. Dishes, they pile. Pile pile pile. Charming house is less charming with no dishwasher. Craigslist is stalked for dishwashers. Dishes are pile-ier. Take-out is purchased. Rinse. Repeat. Comb in conditioner.
You're probably thinking, "oh, so what. He did a load of dishes? Whatever." No, my friends. Our cabinets were empty. Empty! Empty, because there were no clean dishes to put in them. Because they were all piled not only next to the sink, but on almost every inch of countertop space. I don't think anyone can really understand except for Lorien, who unassumingly stepped foot into the dish carnage yesterday. (Thank you for the cough pellets!) Don't try and pretend that it wasn't so bad in there.
I had originally intended to have a dreamy, sappy mother's day post wherein I waxed and waned on and on about sweet wee Oliver and how nothing is cuter than a slightly chubby baby scrunching over so that he can peek at and poke at his own belly button, but instead we get a dishwashing post. Happy Mother's Day '08! Clean dishes!
I can't write much, because I'm working on a deadline, but I just went through to the kitchen and ERIK HAS CLEANED ALL THE DISHES AND CLEANED THE COUNTERTOPS. Let me give you a little backstory.
Two people love each other very much and have a baby and live in a charming house with no dishwasher. Baby is hard work. Housework suffers. One person puts in 12 hour days (well, 9 hour days + 3 hours of train riding). Other person edits (interesting! but time-consuming!) dissertations whenever the baby is asleep. Two people also watch the Twin Peaks DVD box set whenever possible; I'm just throwing that in there so you don't think I'm a robot. Dishes, they pile. Pile pile pile. Charming house is less charming with no dishwasher. Craigslist is stalked for dishwashers. Dishes are pile-ier. Take-out is purchased. Rinse. Repeat. Comb in conditioner.
You're probably thinking, "oh, so what. He did a load of dishes? Whatever." No, my friends. Our cabinets were empty. Empty! Empty, because there were no clean dishes to put in them. Because they were all piled not only next to the sink, but on almost every inch of countertop space. I don't think anyone can really understand except for Lorien, who unassumingly stepped foot into the dish carnage yesterday. (Thank you for the cough pellets!) Don't try and pretend that it wasn't so bad in there.
I had originally intended to have a dreamy, sappy mother's day post wherein I waxed and waned on and on about sweet wee Oliver and how nothing is cuter than a slightly chubby baby scrunching over so that he can peek at and poke at his own belly button, but instead we get a dishwashing post. Happy Mother's Day '08! Clean dishes!
5.04.2008
Farewell, vague grammar.
Farewell, vague grammar.
Here are some of my favorite former signs around San Diego. All have been removed or corrected, and I sorely miss them. In order of local fame/lore:
1. "CRUISE SHIPS USE AIRPORT EXIT." - seen from interstate 5 south, just before the airport, which is also near that cruise ship terminal. So if you're either driving your car or sailing your cruise ship down the 5, you'll know where to exit.
2. "OUR SAVIORS LUTHERAN." - this is a little Lutheran church in North Park. The technical name is Our Savior's Lutheran Church, with an apostrophy - they are stating that they belong to their Savior. However, the old signage out front didn't have the possessive, and simply informed us that Jesus was in fact Lutheran. I'm not saying it's not true, but the sign is now corrected.
3. "PLEASE HELP US NOT TO HAVE PETS IN THE STORE." - this was scrawled on a white board and propped up against the open door to a liquor store in Normal Heights. In smaller print, beneath the pet request was a significantly less polite command: "KEEP YOUR HOODS DOWN!" I'm not sure if the two messages were related.
Here are some of my favorite former signs around San Diego. All have been removed or corrected, and I sorely miss them. In order of local fame/lore:
1. "CRUISE SHIPS USE AIRPORT EXIT." - seen from interstate 5 south, just before the airport, which is also near that cruise ship terminal. So if you're either driving your car or sailing your cruise ship down the 5, you'll know where to exit.
2. "OUR SAVIORS LUTHERAN." - this is a little Lutheran church in North Park. The technical name is Our Savior's Lutheran Church, with an apostrophy - they are stating that they belong to their Savior. However, the old signage out front didn't have the possessive, and simply informed us that Jesus was in fact Lutheran. I'm not saying it's not true, but the sign is now corrected.
3. "PLEASE HELP US NOT TO HAVE PETS IN THE STORE." - this was scrawled on a white board and propped up against the open door to a liquor store in Normal Heights. In smaller print, beneath the pet request was a significantly less polite command: "KEEP YOUR HOODS DOWN!" I'm not sure if the two messages were related.
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