Bloglets

I have no real topic today so I thought I'd treat you all (all 4 of you still checking this, although I seem to have fallen into a once-a-week-or-less rut) to some random little bloglets....


* Boo hiss on the outcome of the World Series. I was pulling hard for the Astros. Now we enter the black hole of my life, the time between the end of the World Series and the start of Spring Training (yes, on my planet, Spring Training is important enough to deserve capitalization). Once college football ends I REALLY have issues. You know those two days a year - before and after the baseball All Star Game, the only two days where there are NO professional sports played whatsoever??? Worst two days of my year. It's like tomboy PMS.

* Molly's new phrase this week is "dat doo," which for those who do not speak babble-ease, means "thank you" -- I know this because she says it after you hand her something (or she gives you something -- whatever, we'll get the etiquette logistics worked out later). Apparently at daycare this week she has been talking up a storm -- she said "snack" yesterday -- great, now maybe sometime she will want to EAT food rather than just talk about it.

* Molly has been on an eating strike lately, and when you only weigh 22 lbs, "you've lost weight!" is NOT a positive comment. She has a bizarre affinity for pizza and garlic bread though, and has been wolfing down Ensure shakes every morning to add calories. So far her caloric intake each day is about 800 calories, and her output is about 167, 453. NEVER. SITS. STILL. Unless Melmo is on TV.

* Halloween is quickly approaching, and we have a very uncooperative little bunny on our hands who does NOT want to wear her cute bunny ear hood/headpiece thing under any circumstances. We took her to Zoo Boo last weekend to go trick or treating at the Detroit Zoo, and she spent much of the time waddling around like an overstuffed marshmallow since 1) she did NOT want that hood on and 2) she did NOT want ride in the wagon we lugged down 5 flights of parking lot stairs -- she wanted to WALK, thank you, and also did NOT want to hold our hands. None of the scenarios we presented to her were met with much enthusiasm (i.e., be carried, ride in the wagon, or hold our hand - ewww, responsible parenting sucks!!!) so we'll see how we do with the rest of our trick or treat adventures. And to those parents who think that taking young children out for trick or treating is a devious, underhanded way for parents to eat candy while exploiting their children --

Yup. Sure is. Payback time from our own childhoods. I think my dad convinced me that I HATED Snickers bars as a kid, solely so he could swipe them out of my pumpkin pail. If anyone talks to Molly, pass along that she can't STAND peanut butter cups and M&Ms. Please reiterate that dislike early and often so it's stuck in her head for all eternity, and I am 13,000 calories richer because of it this weekend.

I told you I had nothing interesting to write about, so I'll sign off. Went to the doctor yesterday and yes, I am still certifiably crazy -- nope, they haven't developed a cure for irrational emotional nutcakiness yet. Damn.

Banned Books

I am stealing this post directly and shamelessly from my friend Heather's blog -- the 100 most banned and challenged books from 1990 through 2000.

The ones in bold are the ones I've read. Some of the things people ban or challenge are just incredible. I mean seriously. "How to Eat Fried Worms"????? Who does this offend?!?! Are fried worms too tempting for those on Atkins that we should remove all traces of them from our kids' bookshelves in an attempt to cure childhood obesity? Would "How to Eat Zero-Trans-Fat Worms" be more acceptable?!?

"Anastasia Krupnik"??? Seriously???? I have no problem banning Howard Stern's "Private Parts," only because he is a moron and no one should have to be subjected to reading anything about him. But anyway, I hope this encourages others to steal this list and evaluate their reading history as well...Sadly, for an English major, there are many I should read/should have read already -- kind of pathetic that half of the banned books I've read on this list are courtesy of Stephen King or Judy Blume.


1. Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz
2. Daddy’s Roommate by Michael Willhoite
3. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
4. The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier
5. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
6. Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
7. Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling
8. Forever by Judy Blume
9. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
10. Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
11. Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman
12. My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier
13. The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger
14. The Giver by Lois Lowry
15. It’s Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris
16. Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine
17. A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck
18. The Color Purple by Alice Walker
19. Sex by Madonna
20. Earth’s Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel
21. The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson
22. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle
23. Go Ask Alice by Anonymous
24. Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers
25. In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
26. The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard
27. The Witches by Roald Dahl
28. The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein
29. Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry
30. The Goats by Brock Cole
31. Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane
32. Blubber by Judy Blume
33. Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan
34. Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam
35. We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier
36. Final Exit by Derek Humphry
37. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood (Mel's note: this is FANTASTIC)
38. Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George
39. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison
40. What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras
41.To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
42. Beloved by Toni Morrison
43. The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
44. The Pigman by Paul Zindel
45. Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard
46. Deenie by Judy Blume
47. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
48. Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden
49. The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar
50. Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz
51. A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
52. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
53. Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice)
54. Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole
55. Cujo by Stephen King
56. James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl
57. The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell
58. Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
59. Ordinary People by Judith Guest
60. American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis
61. What’s Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras
62. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret by Judy Blume
63. Crazy Lady by Jane Conly
64. Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher
65. Fade by Robert Cormier
66. Guess What? by Mem Fox
67. The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende
68. The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney
69. Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut
70. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
71. Native Son by Richard Wright
72. Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Fantasies by Nancy Friday
73. Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen
74. Jack by A.M. Homes
75. Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya
76. Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle
77. Carrie by Stephen King
78. Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume
79. On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer
80. Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge
81. Family Secrets by Norma Klein
82. Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole
83. The Dead Zone by Stephen King
84. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
85. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
86. Always Running by Luis Rodriguez
87. Private Parts by Howard Stern
88. Where’s Waldo? by Martin Hanford
89. Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene
90. Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman
91. Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
92. Running Loose by Chris Crutcher
93. Sex Education by Jenny Davis
94. The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene
95. Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy
96. How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
97. View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts
98. The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder
99. The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney
100. Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier

Experts Announce New, Highly-Effective Method of Birth Control!!

It's called "stay at home with your sick child." I guarantee it'll knock the potential future reproductive vibes right outta your procreation tool of choice (it is effective for both male AND female users).

Molly has been sick since, roughly, the 4th of July -- just had a sinus infection and a week later ended up with a nasty virus of some sort that decided to manifest itself in her lower eyelid. What? You didn't know this was possible? Oh, indeedy. You learn all kinds of wonderful medical mysteries when your child is ill.

The other night she woke up crying, and when I touched her, the mommy-hand-thermometer instantly registered in the "DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!!!" range. I took her temp using the handy dandy ear thermometer, which at any other time she likes to chew on - we knew she was legitimately sick when she didn't try to gnaw on the probe or club one of us to death with it.

104.3, which is too close to the end of the radio dial for my comfort. We knew we had a dreaded task ahead of us, one that would require all of our colletive fortitude, strength and cunning.

We had to use the rectal thermometer.

For those of you who don't have kids (and therefore probably still harbor a desire to have sex again, at some point), ear thermometers are accurate, but rectal thermometers apparently are the pinnacle of precision. Children who still chew on crib slats like a deranged beaver cannot be trusted to hold a poison-filled glass mercury stick in their mouths, so to get the most accurate reading and see if that 104.3 is really HIGHER than you think, thus necessitating a trip to the ER or at least a panicked phone call to Grandma, you have to resort to the ol' butt stick method.

The "What to Expect: The Toddler Years" mush-covered lovey version of how to do this is like: "Gently insert one inch (ONE INCH!?!?! The kid is 33 inches tall!!! You are not sticking something 1/33 of the way into ME via that particular orifice!!!!) of the thermometer into the rectum, using a generous amount of lubricant (yes, because that makes the baby MUCH less likely to want to disintegrate you with its laser baby death ray eyes)...hold for TWO MINUTES, applying gentle pressure to the buttocks to keep the thermometer in place."

TWO MINUTES?!?!?!!? This is a child who will not stand still and watch (M)Elmo for more than 11 seconds at a time. And you want me to shove a cold stick of glass covered in Vaseline a fair amount of space into her butt, knowing WHAT COMES OUT OF SAID BUTT at any point in time, and HOLD IT THERE for TWO MINUTES?!?!?!?!?! The book suggests singing to the child, or rubbing its back.

At at time like this, when you are trying not to lose your grip on the little glass stick of death and accidentally ram it far enough in to cause another belly button protrusion, you are NOT thinking "hmmm, I wonder what that 4th verse of 'If You're Happy And You Know It' is??" I can tell you it is NOT "If you're happy and you know it, stick a thermometer up your ass and THAT'LL wipe the smile off your damn face!!!!" Although it should be.

Molly was sick enough that honestly, she really didn't put up that much of a fight during this ordeal. Dan and I were more traumatized than she was. Over the next 3 days she developed an eye infection and coughed up half a lung (which I'm sure she subsequently fed to the dog, as regurgitated Molly food is one of his favorites), and was forced to stay home from daycare for three whole days.

That's three whole days of Mommy and/or Daddy watching endless amounts of "Franklin" and "Little Bear" and "Regular Bear" and a whole lot of other bears, and Sesame Street, and Disney movies, and so on and so on. None of that sounds like a particularly bad gig in and of itself, but throw in a snot-covered, temper-tantrum-throwing, pick-me-up-no-put-me-DOWN, food throwing, Mommy-slapping little firecracker whose sleep schedule is off and who just feels YUCKY, DAMMIT, and Mommy's magic wand can't fix the problem -- well, it's not a good time.

This morning when Daddy and Mommy AND Molly left the house, on our way back to work and daycare as usual, I am certain that Murphy breathed a huge sigh of relief to have the house back to himself and no one chasing him around trying to wipe their drippy nose on his tail. Molly wasn't very nice to him, either.

Finding Melmo

Sheesh, the pressure! I'm starting to feel like Marlin the clownfish in "Finding Nemo" -- "Hey, you're a clownfish? Say something funny!!"

Write something funny, WRITE SOMETHING, DAMMIT!!!! I didn't realize how many of my friends and loyal readers (all three of them) depend on this blog to entertain themselves during horrendously boring meetings and conference calls. Alright alright, I'll try to do better.

HALLELUJAH, we finally found something else Molly will eat for dinner besides chicken nuggets EVERY DAMN DAY OF THE WEEK PLEASE GOD MAKE THEM STOP HAUNTING MY DREAMS!!!!!!

Last night we had Noodles and Company for dinner because, well, it being a day that ends in "y" meant that I was not going to cook anything. I had my usual healthy staple, buttered noodles with parmesan and chicken, extra cheese thank you very much. Molly finally decided that pasta might not be such a bad thing (phew - I was starting to doubt she was mine. Thank God for the mother-daughter resemblance or people would REALLY wonder) and took a tentative bite of my greasy, butterific noodles.

And another.

And another.

Did I mention that in addition to signing for "more," she can now SAY "more"?? In the span of 15 minutes she ate half my bowl of noodles and yelled "more" so many times she sounded like a broken record of "Oliver."

Except that in "Oliver," the cute little urchin says very politely, "Please, sir, may I have some mohhhhr?" in a very proper British accent; and my cute little urchin says "MAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" and points at the object of desire with more precision than a champion German shorthair on a duck hunt.

Her vocabulary has been growing by leaps and ba's lately, which is dangerous considering she is getting much more adept at parroting what people say and she does, unfortunately, live in a home where her two parents have spectacular linguistic range when watching sports -- none of it suitable for children under 25.

My friend Kathy could tell you all about this danger, as her little miss A was the delight of many a party as she was learning to talk, and her daddy yelled at a Michigan football player named McClintock who screwed up some play or another (as Michigan players are increasingly wont to do) -- "Way to go, McClinCOCK!!!!"

Miss A gleefully piped in, "Cock. COCK!!" and repeated this ad nauseum (fueled, no doubt, by the rest of the grownups who kept asking her to say it -- none of us parents yet at this point, so none of us realizing this behavior would one day come back to bite us in the ass. Butt. Heinie. See, I am incapable of censoring.)

Much to the dismay of several probably-much-better-at-this-than-me mommies I know and love, Molly loves to watch TV (specifically Sesame Street), and LOVES the Sesame Street characters. Of course, making Mommy want to put her head in a nutcracker and smash it to bits, her favorite Muppet is Elmo. Mommy wonders how she made it through her own entire childhood without this annoying pronounically challenged interloper popping up all over Sesame Street, but alas, he is now a regular fixture and, alas even more, (alasier?) he is firmly ingrained in Molly's limited vocabulary.

"Melmo. MELMO? MELMO!!!!!"

Sigh.

She is also a big fan of Ernie ("Heinie!") and Grover ("roh-rov?" not sure about that one yet), and -- gasp, horror or horrors, her favorite thing to play with at daycare? DOLLS. WHO IS THIS KID AND SERIOUSLY, HOW DID SHE COME FROM MY DNA?!?!?! Of course, every doll regardless of age or gender is "Baby."

To those who scoff at the notion of kids learning from TV, yesterday, while watching Sesame Street, the letter of the day was "B" and there was a segment where a big yellow schoolbus drove across the screen. Molly looked up at me and said "busssssss." Kind of in a tone like "God, you big dummy, see that thing?? It's a BUS. Catch up, mommy."

I thought maybe I was high from the chicken finger fumes so I ran to get her plastic school bus, sat it in front of her, and said "Molly, what's this?"

"BUSSSSSSS."

Well, thank God we can watch Jerome Bettis now and she'll know what to say.

I'm off -- I have to go find Melmo. Elmo. Nemo. My sanity. Whatever.