This could quite possibly be the greatest thing the internet has ever produced...
I...am a SIMPSON!
And because I wanna be gettin' some during my time in Springfield...
Himself.
Thank you, Whit, for pointing me to this fantastic website. My life is complete.
So I'm sitting here at my desk, typing away at today's blog entry, when suddenly it strikes me...a sudden silence. M., who was seated not 5 feet behind me at her toy baskets, is not banging something against something else, or squealing, or shaking something noisy. I whip my head around and find this:
Holy crap! She's like a tiny, backward-crawling ninja! Clearly, I'm going to have to become more diligent. Because that worthless dog in the foreground, who should have been barking at me, "Mom! The puppy's getting away! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!" is lying there as if he didn't realize that there are cords and little pieces and open outlets all over the house where M. is backward crawling. Now I'm going to have to babyproof and shit. Dumb dog.
In the spirit of getting myself writing again, I figured that whipping myself into a frenzy would be the best motivation, so here is yet another rant on gender issues:
First of all, it should be known that I am a scrapbooker. I loves me the scrapbooking. But one thing that I do not like about my hobby is its gender politics. For some reason, scrapbooking is considered "women's work"--that keeping the family history is the job of the woman-folk. That, however, does not keep me from doing it, nor is it the main theme of this post. It does mean, though, that I read a lot of scrapbooking magazines and that while reading such magazines I see a lot of layouts that glorify the "proper" gender identity of children. I am not going to post images of such pages here, though, because it is against the scrapbooking code to snark on other people's pages--let's just say that there are a lot of pages and products out there that announce "100% GIRL" or "All Boy" or "Girlie Girl." These titles are inevitably accompanied by photos of young boys and girls performing activities appropriate to their stereotypical gender roles: girls having tea parties in princess outfits or boys pushing toy trucks through mud...you get the idea.
This really pushes my buttons.
Especially the ones that read "100% girl" or "100% boy." What does this mean? Thank goodness my child is not a hermaphrodite? I'm so glad that Sally never grew a testicle--she's 100% GIRL! No breasts on little Billy--he's 100% BOY! And I know what these pages are supposed to mean, but really, the underlying implication is, I'm so glad my kid isn't queer.
Just once I'd like to see a page that says "Girlie Boy" or "Not-All Girl" or maybe even "75% Girl, 25% ?" I guess what I'm pointing out is that if Hillary Clinton represents one aspect of our society's deeply-rooted sexism, then parental expectations represent another. Most people want their children to follow strictly maintained gender roles, and when they do, it's a cause for celebration. When they don't, it's a cause for silence. Sons should never want to cruise the "pink aisle" at Target, and daughters should not enjoy the, er, "black aisle?" (I'm not sure what to call the aisle dedicated to Legos, Hot Wheels, and action figures--the "Action Aisle?")
And I know that there are those of you out there (Mom) who will say, "What's the big deal? A kid's gonna like what a kid's gonna like...you can't control that." But my point is this: by setting up these standards of what constitutes "All Boy" or "100% Girl," we also set up a framework for deviancy. A boy who wants a pink fairy Barbie is deviant, as is a girl who'd rather have a Millenium Falcon Lego set (Mmmmm...Millenium Falcon Lego set...drool!) We don't tell the children they are deviant, but we show them they are by celebrating those children who are not. So kids are not just "liking what they are going to like"; they are struggling with what they should like.
Of course, I'm the big hypocrite here because if M. decided to like Barbies, I would say, "Too bad...no Barbies in my house." So I guess I am encouraging her to reject her stereotypical gender role as much as another mother might be encouraging her daughter to accept it. I feel I have to do this, though, not only as a mother, but as a woman. Because it's only a short step from this "Girlie Girl"...
To this one...
click on picture for larger viewI've been a lazy writer lately, so please accept more adorable pictures of M. in place of my ramblings. She is changing so fast that I need to take lots of pictures to remember what she was like the day before.
Where did she get all that hair? She's already got enough for ponytails!
A present from Aunt Megan...M.'s first mouse ears from Disneyland.
M. is working on crawling, but she currently can only push herself backwards, which means she usually ends up under the furniture.
Hanging out with Auntie Crystal and Lucy--M.'s swimming buddy.
At the movie theater--M. loved Homer! She laughed and laughed!Mama and I are currently in Long Beach visiting Auntie Erin and Uncle Brian so that Mama can be their professional organizer. I am so excited about this because it means I get to spend lots of time with my friend Claire. Mama has been very busy, so she asked me to post some pictures for everyone to see.
I was very good for my second airplane ride. Mama let me sit in my own seat and I even got this bag of peanuts! Mama told me that I wasn't old enough to eat peanuts, but I sure liked the shiny bag!
On Wednesay, Auntie Erin took us to meet friends of hers at the park. I was too little to play with all the other kids, but I liked swinging on the swings and riding this froggie.
On Friday we went to Claire's playgroup and I had fun playing with other babies. I had never been around so many babies before! I didn't mind, though...I was very interested in meeting them all.
On Saturday we went to a restaurant called Lucille's. They have food called barbeque. I know that this is Mama and Daddy's favorite food, so I thought I'd try some. Auntie Erin gave me something called a rib, and I LOVED it! I also ate macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, and biscuits. Yum! Mama says that this is one of her very favorite restaurants...I think so, too!
I liked to chew and suck on my rib...
Claire uses hers to eat her sweet potatoes.
After eating BBQ we were so messy that we had to take a bath. I like splashing Claire and chewing on her rubber duckies. Claire likes combing my hair and splashing me back. We had lots of fun!
That's all! I am having a very good time. Mama says that she will be back to blog in a few days.
Love,
Matilda
...Lots more chances for good photographs.
I'm not usually a big fan of pink...but these were awfully pretty.
Yes, I am still alive. I have not been able to post on my own blog or read anyone else's for three weeks now. Because we moved! Yay!!! Moving Day was May 16, but we have been very busy ever since painting and unpacking and organizing and all of that crap that is part of the deal when you move. Plus I didn't have internet for a week...GAH!
Anyways, our new house is SO GREAT! It is in the old part of town--my favorite--in an old brick duplex that is historically protected by the City of Reno. And for an old house, it is BIG! 1100 sq ft and a basement! The inside has some aesthetic challenges, like a previous resident who liked wallpaper A LOT and a kitchen that was remodeled in the '70s, but what can you do? I am willing to overlook all of this for one simple pleasure...I am centrally located and can WALK downtown! No more nasty suburbs for me! I cannot tell you how much this has done to improve my mood. The last year has taught me that I am NOT a suburbs person, even with the perks of new houses with all of their new house smell and their new house wiring and their new house insulation. I like being in the middle of things, and, most of all, I like walking. "Commute" is a word that I would like to eradicate from my vocabulary altogether. From where we now live I can walk to the movies, walk to five different coffee houses, walk to the river, walk, walk, walk. And when I do have to drive, no more than a couple of miles will get me pretty much anywhere I want to go. I LOVE IT!
View of our new house, left side. Note that even though it is a duplex, the houses are only joined by the garages.
View of our new house, right side...Did I mention it was a corner lot?
Our neighbor across one street--God.
And across the other street--God.How do you know when you're really, really cheap? Not just frugal but C-H-E-A-P? It's when you get as excited as I do about the holiday weekends because it means 50% off day at the thrift stores. Because it's not cheap enough to shop at thrift stores, you have to wait for a thrift store SALE!
So on Memorial Day I hit Savers and went crazy buying myself a whole new summer wardrobe! I literally filled an entire shopping cart up with clothes. And I spent $63. Beat that.
The reason that this is important is because it is the second step in my making-myself-feel-better-about-myself regimen. The first step was moving into a new house (see next post). The second step is giving up the battle and buying myself real, non-maternity clothes that actually fit instead of holding out in my maternity jeans for that magic day when I will be able to fit back into my pre-pregnancy jeans. It's been 8 and a half months, and I'm done. I'm not giving up completely--I have packed my old clothes in a box for that time when my body finally decides to start working properly again--but boy does it feel good to have a waistband again. And even if I shudder every time I think about the size I am wearing, it doesn't make me shudder nearly as much as wearing pregnant lady clothes. There's just something so sad about that. And I'm tired of being sad. I'd rather be fat and happy.
Thirty. Four.
I really wasn't in the mood to celebrate this year. The months leading up to my birthday have been among the worst of my life...my self-esteem has not been so low since I was a teenager. Celebrating 34 just didn't appeal to me because celebrating 34 meant acknowledging that I was turning 34 as an unemployed woman with very little purpose in life whose goals have been shattered after sending out over 20 job applications and not receiving one single call for an interview. Add onto that the 15 years I have spent becoming educated to do the job I am trained to do and the oppressive mountain of student loans I have accumulated to get that education and you can see where I might become a bit depressed. Not to mention the fact that even if I did get an interview I'd have nothing to wear because my wardrobe consists of three pairs of maternity pants and a handful crappy oversized shirts I keep wearing over and over again because I can't manage to lose a single stinking pound!
Yeah, so.
But, strangely enough, my birthday came anyways. Funny how that happens. And I ended up celebrating after all because in the end, it is MY SPECIAL DAY, and I just had to bask in it, failure or not.
May 18
Husband seems to be just as excited as I am about my birthday!
M. chooses an entree.
"I have feet!"
No, Ian is not feeling me up. The one day of the year I wear a dress, and Reno whips up a giant windstorm to blow my dress up over my head. Ian is only trying to keep me from flashing my goods to the camera.
"Mama's HOW OLD?!"My first Mother's Day came very close to being a miserable one. The Friday before, I came down with the nastiest bug I have ever come across...let's call it the Puke Once and Come Very Close to Death in Two Days Bug. First it ravaged the household of our friends, then it made its way into the House of Sangstellero.
Friday, Ian and I dropped M. off with friends and went out for a bite to eat before going to see 28 Weeks Later. (For those of you who understand our affinity for zombie flicks, you will know that this was a BIG DEAL.) As soon as we sat down to eat, I realized I wasn't feeling very well. I figured it was just because I hadn't eaten much all day, and filling up my belly would make me feel better. (Wrong.) By the time we got to the movie theater, I was feeling really bad, but I toughed it out and played some Ms. Pacman with Ian because even when death is knocking on my door, I cannot pass up the opportunity to prove to my husband that I am the queen of Ms. Pacman and he should bow before me. We eventually took our seats, and I suffered through the previews. At the very moment the last preview was playing, I realized without a doubt that my dinner was not going to stay down. I leaped out of my seat and ran to the restroom, but I knew, just knew, as soon as I opened the door, that I wasn't going to make it. And I didn't. As soon as I opened the door to the stall, I erupted. I know that The Exorcist analogy is a common one, but I am going to fall back on it because nothing else can properly describe how badly I violated that bathroom stall. Over and over. Thank God nobody else was in the restroom. Did I mention that I had enchilada soup for dinner? Bright red enchilada soup. When I was done, it looked like someone had hosed the stall down in blood. So there I stood, absolutely mortified, inspecting the carnage I had just wreaked and wondering what in the hell to do about it:
"I want everything on the menu, Mama!"
"Uh, Daddy? I think you got this upside down."
"That's better"
How we spent the majority of Mother's Day.I try not to poach links from other bloggers...it somehow smacks of plagiarism. But this video is just TOO FREAKIN' GREAT not to post (especially considering yesterday's topic). So thanks Bitch, Ph.D. for starting my morning with a good laugh. I'm passing it on.
I went to find something on YouTube today and noticed that one of the featured videos was my favorite living poet reading one of my favorite poems. I thought I'd share.
A few months back, I kept meaning to write a post about the invasion of those annoying stick families that were popping up on SUVs and minivans across the nation. I mean, really, WHY is this necessary? "Oh look, honey, the couple in the Ford Explorer in front of us have two daughters, a son, and a baby. AND two cats and a dog! I guess that explains why they are driving that gas-guzzling monster van! I'm glad they made that clear to me. I feel so much closer to them now."
Whatever.
Anyways, this is NOT the post about how much I hate stick families. That post is no longer necessary because it appears that was the shortest-lived trend ever, and sometime last month everyone got out their scrapers en masse and removed the offending stickers. I haven't seen one for weeks.
What I have seen, though, is this
all over town. And I don't get it.
I will admit...I really, really want to love Clinton and see a woman get nominated by one of the major parties to be president. I would love even more to see a woman in the oval office. I feel compelled to vote for any female candidate simply on the basis of her gender, which is fallacious and biased, but I can't help it...I want a woman to be president THAT BAD.
But Clinton? I'm not a fan.
I don't hate her or anything; I'm just not prepared to vote for her. I have not been impressed by her speeches, by her performance in the Democratic Candidates Debate, or by her interviews. I don't like how she changes her persona from one appearance to the next--all sternness and ice at one; at another, gushing over shoes and giggling about shopping. It seems like she is juggling her masculine and feminine sides to appease her particular audience. It's not working. And it bothers me. But I certainly don't hate her. I wouldn't feel compelled to stick hateful stickers on my car or pay money to erect a BILLBOARD! (I'd include a picture here, but I thought that pulling over on the freeway to snap a photo of a billboard was a risk I wasn't prepared to take for my blog.) I mean, she's not even nominated yet! Why all this animosity? Why do so many people hate Clinton SO MUCH?
Is it because she's a woman?
I hope not, but here are some things I've noticed:
1) Why is it okay to call Clinton "Hillary" when male candidates get referred to by their last names?
2) This sticker is wrong on so many levels. Aggressive woman = bitch, but non-aggressive woman = bad president. A total catch 22.
3) Why do so many conservative pundits claim that Clinton is hanging onto the coat tails of her husband but also believe that it is perfectly acceptable for W. to hang onto the coat tails of his father?
4) Why is Clinton held to a higher moral standard than the men she is running against?
It all just bothers me so much. Just like when people hated Clinton when she was first lady because she, you know, had thoughts of her own and tried to do more than just stand by her man's side looking pretty (gasp!). Remember this?
Because Lord knows that any man married to a smart, competent woman must be CONTROLLED by her.
I guess my point is this. Just because we live in a country where we are allowed and encouraged to speak out against our government (unless, of course, the Bush Administration is involved...then we should just all keep our damn mouths SHUT) does not mean that it is alright to treat a woman in a blatantly sexist manner because she is a politician. I know that there are plenty of other reasons people may not like Clinton, but whenever I ask someone to tell, specifically, what they don't like about her, most cannot answer the question. There's "just something about her." Something like two X chromosomes.
I feel the need to speak out against this now, so that maybe voters will be a bit more enlightened when Matilda runs for president.
Now there's a candidate I can get behind!
Just after I finished that last post, I thought I'd check my site meter and found out that WOW! I have a lot more hits than average this week! How could this be? After some tinkering, I then discovered that on Site Meter I can view how people are getting to my site (that is, who linked to me) and I discovered the culprit. (I know, my technological genius boggles the mind!) DUDE! I've been linked to! Thanks, Surrender Dorothy!
Some further examination of my Site Meter exposed another link...apparently, I have been hit by The Nominatrix for Hottest Mommy Blogger in the Blogger's Choice Awards. Thank you, Oh the Joys, for giving me my first blog bling...It looks so purty over there.
It's the little things that can really improve one's mood on a gloomy Saturday morning.
Okay, so I haven't been writing much this week, but I feel the need to post something, anything, so that my mad, sad, very bad post isn't still the first thing people see when they come visit. So here.
In an effort to convince M. that deep-fried clam strips are not appropriate food for little babies with no teeth, we gave her her own plate to hold her puffs so that she could eat with Daddy. As you can see, she's still eyeballing the clam strips.
You may wonder why M. is in her pajamas...that would be because we already packed away all of her winter attire that she had mostly outgrown in favor of spring/summer wear because it's, you know, MAY?! and then it started snowing this week. Soft, fluffy jammies are the warmest thing M. has to wear. If it snows on my birthday, I'm leaving.
