Michael: “And you finished off the whole bottle?”
Lindsay Funke: “I had to, it’s vodka. It goes bad once it’s opened.”
Michael: “I think that’s another of mom’s fibs, like ‘I’ll sacrifice anything for my children.'”

(Photo by Steve Rawley)

Watching this week:

“Television ate my family.” — Lance Loud

We came up with the best way ever to spend our wedding anniversary this year: watching the Loud family implode on PBS’s “An American Family.” Me to Steve: “Don’t get any ideas.” His response: “Don’t even worry.”

I remember my ma telling me that she and my dad spent hour after hour, week after week, watching the documentary (the first “reality” TV program) when it first aired in 1973. I didn’t know what to expect, really, but I wanted to watch “Cinema Verite” (with Diane Lane and Tim Robbins as Pat and Bill Loud, and James Gandolfini as the series’s producer, Craig Gilbert). Didn’t feel like it was fair to the Louds to watch the fictional filming of their documentary, or the “behind-the-scenes-making-of” film of the film of the documentary (it all gets a little wiggy) without watching their documentary — the real one, which began shooting in 1971 — first. Now I want to give them all a hug, especially Lance, who I just adore, but he is gone now.

Also we’ve been watching non-stop “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” over here and Lord, does my head hurt now. It’s all good TV, people. Have you watched any of these films/shows? If so, what did you think? Gimme the Louds over the Kardashians any day, and gimme Honey Boo Boo any day over “Survivor,” woooooooooooooo-hoooooooooooo :) We love that little firecracker, she’s a pistol. She fractures me, I am not even kidding.

No, I’m not getting much writing done, but I need that once in awhile.

OK, I have to go to bed. More on all of this later. Much.

Betsy Hammond asks, Is the children learning? Maybe she and Tom Hallman can give lessons — pretty soon they’ll all be writing like m@th!rf&*ers smh ;)

From Thee O’s comments section:

hermtownhomy
“The irony flag was up in my head before I even started reading, and I knew it wouldn’t take long. I made it to the third paragraph. ‘But with class sizes swelling and teens more prone to text and tweet than string paragraphs together, schools and teachers face a tall order.’ And I could go no further.”

(Photo by Steve Rawley)

You know how when you hear someone is expecting a baby, you feel compelled to share all your wisdom with them? Even if you haven’t actually had any babies? Uh, yeah. Most of us do it. Except the dog and cat people out there, who skip the advice and just chime in, I love my cats/dogs, they’re so much easier than babies.

No, they’re not.

For instance, our creaky, kind of kooky 15-year-old boy cat, Wacky Cat 2, (you may remember him from such blog posts as this one, or or this) decided to stay out all night last night and stressed Steve and me the hell out. “Stressed me the hell out” is a phrase I use way more often when talking about the cats than when I am discussing the kids, fyi. I went out on the back porch and called for him, and miaoooow!! There he was. Steve: “He never comes when I call him. I can’t believe all you have to do is call, Here, kitty, kitty, and he trots right up.” Me: “Yeah, after 2 1/2 hours!” Seriously. I was all, Woog! Woogie! Boogie! Here, kitty, kitty! starting at 6 a.m. Our poor neighbors. Miaooooow!! And he won’t tell us where he was. It’s maddening, really.

Next: Kids generally tell you before they throw up. Once they’re verbal, that is. Before that, all bets are off. You will not get that kind of notification from a pet.

My friends, a couple I’ve known since college, who are just adorable and yummy and live in the Bay area with their exciting life, have surprised us all by announcing they’re having a baby girl in a few weeks. I should have known, because they bought a house, and then they got a dog. Breeders. (Kidding. Congrats to the three of you, and blessings. You will both be great parents.)

They even posted pix of preggo mama on Facebook to prove it to us. Wow! Pretty woman. Love her. I promptly sent them a list of the top 5 items they shouldn’t forget to pack in the bag for the hospital (nail clippers for the baby, because the hospitals tell you because of “health codes” or something they won’t/can’t do it; sleeping/nursing bra, without underwire; the baby book, so they can put the footprints in that when they do the state birth certificate; a couple of sizes of clothes for baby; a couple of sizes of clothes for mom) (oh, and I told the dadd-o, for god’s sake don’t eat pizza or a peanut butter sandwich when she’s in labor. Just sayin’…), They promptly sent me back a note that said what they really need is 4 or 5 binders to gather up all the “helpful advice” they’re getting from everyone. My response to that was, Yeah, we’re all obnoxious, sorry. PS it usually takes about 3 weeks to get the hang of breastfeeding; it’s not exactly the most natural thing in the world.

Next time I hear a close friend is having a wee bebe, I’m going to keep my mouth shut. Because why shouldn’t they re-invent the wheel? We all want to. (Except me. I figure, that wheel looks good enough, I’ll use it.) Seriously, I like checking in with other parents, grandparents, nannies, bartenders… whoever… about child-rearing. I didn’t realize my first baby was teething until a mother of triplets pointed it out to me. (See: drool. See: cranky face. See: gnawing on hand.) I didn’t think babies started teething until… later. What the hell did I know? I was also surprised that she started scooting at 4 months and crawling at 6. Both of mine walked on their first birthdays, which was kind of hilarious. “Developmentally, you’re right on track!” were the first words out of my mouth. Kidding.

A friend’s husband also told me, worried, Well, be sure you don’t leave her on the table. (Cuz he did, and his girl went boom on her head.) Just… damn. Don’t leave them on the bed/couch/table/changing table/anywhere high up, unattended.

Some of them start rolling and flipping over from birth, it seems like. (It was three months and younger for our 2.)

“It’s just a matter of time before they’re locking you out of the house.” — my great-uncle to my great-aunt, when her kids were toddlers.

Truer words were never spoken. To wit: The time my kids locked me out. And the other time. And that one time when… Then there was the incident wherein my son smashed his Thomas the Tank Engine bang into my nose, stating calmly, after the fact: “Train coming.”

“It’s like those books, ‘You Never Know What to Expect…'” — my girlfriend Zip, when I was asking her for more advice. “That’s not even what they’re called! They’re called, ‘What to Expect…'” Her response: “Well, they should call it what I said, instead, it’s better.”

What is it, this desire to “share”? I think we all struggle with parenthood, especially that first year. Especially those first few months. Especially those first few weeks/days/hours/minutes. We want to make it easier for others than it was for us, maybe. Some people (Steve) take to it like a duck to water. Others (me) have to have the obvious pointed out to us. Some advice, however, is messed up.

* My granny, calling every few days while I was pregnant with Wacky Girl. She’d yell, Spina bifida, spina bifida! at me, then hang up. She was making me cry. So I finally said, Granny, I took my folic acid… I’m still taking it… My baby is not going to have spina bifida! “Oh, OK.” (click.) That was my granny, God rest her soul.

* The cow I worked with at Fred Meyer, who told me I really should have another baby right away (our daughter was 1 at the time) because what if something happened… And then she went off on it. Made me cry, just like my granny. I was hormonal at the time, due to the fact that I was already knocked up again and didn’t realize. Sheesh. One child can never replace another child, just fyi, cow-lady.

* You know what I told my friends who are soon-to-be parents? That I used to know so much about parenting. But what I know now, you could stick on the head of a pin and still have room left over for the Pledge of Allegiance.

* The only real advice you’ll need is what our ultrasound tech told us, excited, at the same time she was flipping out about my advanced maternal age 1) “Oh! My kid is 3. I’ll tell you everything I know about parenthood. It’s not the terrible 2’s, it’s the terrible 3’s. 2) Do you want to wear the green shirt? Or the blue one? 3) Do you want the yellow sippy cup? Or the red one? 4) After the baby comes, your dog… is just a dog.”

OK, I’ll add one more, cuz I can’t resist. If you want to make a baby or a little kid laugh, put something… anything… on your head and say, “Look! It’s a hat!”

The end.

“Don’t be yourself. Be someone a little nicer.” — Mignon McLaughlin, journalist and author (1913-1983)

“I’m a slow walker, but I never walk back.” — Abraham Lincoln

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” — Mary Oliver, “The Summer Day”

I got those quotes from Cheryl Strayed. Aren’t they good?

Happy summer, everyone.

— wm

My daughter to my husband: “During the Zombie Apocalypse, the item to your left will be your weapon of choice.”

Steve, puzzled: “My wife?”

Broiled Fruit Shakes

Stay with me here. I know it sounds weird, but this is a chilled drink I tried a couple of weeks ago at that crazy New Seasons Market, and it is quite good. It tastes like a Fruit Crisp milkshake.

3 tablespoons brown sugar
3 tablespoons orange juice
1 1/2 teaspoons honey
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
2 cups coarse-chopped fruit (nectarines, plums, apples or whatever you would like)
2 cups ice cream or frozen yogurt (your choice of flavor)

Preheat broiler to high. Combine first five ingredients in a bowl and whisk. Add fruit; toss to coat. Spread the fruit in a single layer on a jelly roll pan lined with foil. Broil 5 minutes or until bubbly. Allow fruit mixture to cool. In a blender, mix 2 cups of ice cream or yogurt with a few scoops of the fruit mixture. Blend until smooth and enjoy.

Lottie’s Peanut Butter Pie
(This one is in Grandma’s handwriting, on a “Here’s What’s Cookin’” card that’s decorated with pictures of lemons. I’m writing it exactly as I found it. Lottie and her husband Darrell were dear friends to my grandparents for years – they met when they were young married couples, before their children were born.)

1 – 8 oz. cream cheese
1 cup crunchy p. butter
½ cup sugar
1 – 12 oz. Cool Whip

Blend in blender.

Pour into crust.

Choc. cookie crust,
Plain crust,
Graham cracker crust

Bon appetit, babies!

OK, back to writing now. Did I already mention that I was done with my Late, Dear Granny’s cookbook and memoir, and then I came across three more of her cookbooks?

Yes, I did.

Found the cookbooks, that is. As for already telling you this, who can remember?

My point is: They all had her handwritten recipes inside, and well. What is a girl to do? Of course I have to type them all up. Those of you who knew my Granny (i’m looking at you, Cuz 7), know that it was just her style, wasn’t it? To say, Wait, wait, looky here. No, looky. This is what you need/should do/want to take home with you. Do it!

That Nike motto, Just do it!? I think she invented that for them.

At first, I was a little stressed out. Because no offense but I am ready to be shut of this project. I have turned into my Granny’s Girl Friday. I can’t even find my desk anymore it’s so covered with scraps of paper, books and photos. But then I realized… it’s my Grandma.

OK. Back to work, and I’ll let you know when it’s done so you can buy a copy. (PS, I think I’m going to call it, “How Are You, Sugar?” You like that?) (PSS, If you still haven’t purchased a copy of my novel, well, what’s stopping you? lol.) I’m hoping today and tomorrow will be it for typing/writing. My mom is allegedly going over the photos and figuring out captions. Then Steve will do lay-out for it and we’ll be ready to roll it out.

I’ve loved working on this project, but I don’t want it to be the only project I do for the rest of my life, y’know? Besides, as my wise daughter put it: “Think how good it will feel to say, ‘Ah, my book is done!'” Only in this case, it will be “Ah, her book is done!”

xo

wm

(Photo by Steve Rawley)