Apparently, ted turner’s first word was “pretty” which he uttered while watching a butterfly. He tells this story as demonstration of his lifelong commitment to environmentalism. I wonder if you’re trying to convince people of your commitment to something, if this is a fruitful strategy. I admit that I never really thought of ted turner media tycoon as ted turner staunch environmentalist. But certainly, since I have trouble believing that his first word didn’t involve long vowels, soft consonants, and repeated syllables, I’m not more convinced of his love of the environment after hearing this “pretty” nonsense. Ted turner, expert storyteller: yes. Ted turner, environmentalist: eh, I can’t really say. I also wonder, if the story is true, whether his parents made predictions about him based on his first word, like “maybe our son will be a biologist, or a lover of nature, or an irritating guy who always states the obvious.” I muse about these things because today toby said his first word. It’s a word that may signal his becoming a voice for his generation as they face environmental or geopolitical catastrophe, or maybe it’s just a verbal prelude to his response when we catch him smoking or he finds himself in his first a bar fight. Regardless, I suspect it will serve him well in the future, and will easily fit whatever story he needs it to whether he’s a savvy venture capitalist or an unemployed guitarist. And of course it will serve us well when toby tells us of his dreams to become either a savvy venture capitalist or an unemployed guitarist. That word, of course, is ‘uh-oh’.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
toby of the day, 5.22.2008
Apparently, ted turner’s first word was “pretty” which he uttered while watching a butterfly. He tells this story as demonstration of his lifelong commitment to environmentalism. I wonder if you’re trying to convince people of your commitment to something, if this is a fruitful strategy. I admit that I never really thought of ted turner media tycoon as ted turner staunch environmentalist. But certainly, since I have trouble believing that his first word didn’t involve long vowels, soft consonants, and repeated syllables, I’m not more convinced of his love of the environment after hearing this “pretty” nonsense. Ted turner, expert storyteller: yes. Ted turner, environmentalist: eh, I can’t really say. I also wonder, if the story is true, whether his parents made predictions about him based on his first word, like “maybe our son will be a biologist, or a lover of nature, or an irritating guy who always states the obvious.” I muse about these things because today toby said his first word. It’s a word that may signal his becoming a voice for his generation as they face environmental or geopolitical catastrophe, or maybe it’s just a verbal prelude to his response when we catch him smoking or he finds himself in his first a bar fight. Regardless, I suspect it will serve him well in the future, and will easily fit whatever story he needs it to whether he’s a savvy venture capitalist or an unemployed guitarist. And of course it will serve us well when toby tells us of his dreams to become either a savvy venture capitalist or an unemployed guitarist. That word, of course, is ‘uh-oh’.
toby of the day, 5.18.2008
today is bay to breakers, an annual “race” where several thousand people “run” from the bay to the ocean. The race begins with actual runners, most of them wearing sensible running shoes and attire, except for a few old naked people wearing only sensible shoes. Actually, truth be told, we have never witnessed this part of the race because they run at the typical running time of day well before we’re ready to even think about leaving the house. So they may be wearing funny hats or something, we can’t say for sure. Regardless, these runners are followed by a second wave of people dressed in clever costumes that they have thoughtfully put together to allow them to run or walk quickly, usually in pairs or trios, along the route. Most everyone is wearing an official race number, including the old, naked people. Some of them carry bottled water. In the third wave, the costumes become less clever and the shopping carts and other smaller wheeled alcohol carrying contraptions emerge. The number of people wearing official numbers declines, as does the number of people wearing sensible footwear. the old naked people are joined by naked people who are less old. In the final installment, most participants either have their own small wheeled alcohol carrying contraption or are members of a float entourage, where they are required to help move an enormous portable bar along the route. You can tell the members of a float entourage because they are dressed as 1) pirates 2) tiki bar patrons 3) vikings. No one has an official number or sensible shoes. Except for the police who follow the last of the “runners” and try to keep them from defacing the conservatory of flowers or passing out in the street. We have never participated in bay to breakers, but instead, each year we sit on the sidelines and watch the parade evolve. This year, toby got to see lots of old naked people, some mildly clever costumes, and a few shopping carts full of beer, though we did take him home before the pirates arrived, lest he get swept away and end up doing keg stands on one of the moveable bars. We’ll save that for next year.
toby of the day, 5.17.2008
today we went to a birthday party for genki, provider of 85% of toby’s clothes, and 100% of his swings, bouncers, entertainers, and changing tables. Genki just turned two. One of his gifts was a baseball bat and helmet which he wore for protection while he tested the bat on the walls, furniture, and our camera and which he found much more exciting than the book that we gave him. Even though it was a pretty cool book. Cute pictures, funny text. But that’s okay, I can understand. In fact, I’m secretly looking forward to receiving the baseball set as a hand-me-down so toby can bat at our walls, furniture, and camera. of course, then we’ll need is someone to hand us down another camera. On second thought, maybe we’re better off with the book. cute pictures, funny text, no broken cameras.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
toby of the day, 5.15.2008
I hate to say it, but it’s hot. I know that it could be hotter. I know that when we lived in Austin, this would not have crossed my threshold for hot. Certainly, I am not stripped down to my skivvies, soaking the sofa with my sweat, unable to do anything except wonder why we don’t have central air conditioning, and worry each time sweat drips from my forehead that it is my brain melting. But today has been quite warm. To deal with the heat wave, Toby and I spent the afternoon in a shady spot in the park, with toby picking flowers and me trying to intercept his chubby yet nimble fingers before he could eat them. When we weren’t eating flowers, or really, when toby was eating flowers but I was pretending not to notice, we watched a girls soccer team practicing. I just read an article about girls blowing out their knees playing soccer and wondered whether such a fate awaited any of these girls. I wondered this until the coach escorted one of the players to the restroom and while he was gone the rest of the girls took all the cones that had been set up for their drills and wore them as hats. Then they all sat down in the shade drinking water and complaining about the heat. Confident that their knees were safe for the time being, I returned to plucking daisies from toby’s mouth and waiting for the fog to return.
toby of the day, 5.14.2008
So toby has been kind of shuffling around for about a week. Not quite walking, certainly not for any considerable distance, but also not just standing still. Last night I think he made his biggest advance, travelling upright for a few feet before returning to his standard mobile downward dog style crawl. Then today I picked him up from daycare and denise told me he had been running around all afternoon. Since it had only been 9 hours or so since I
last saw toby, I of course assumed she was exaggerating, or crazy. But It turns out she was neither. As I set toby down this evening he essentially took off, waddling his way through the living room. I guess when you’re ten months old, a lot can happen in 9 hours.
toby of the day, 5.11.2008
Jon and I study birds. Singing birds to be precise. And while what we know about birds may not be nearly as exciting to reveal at parties as the things we know about lizards (for example, lizards have two penises), we know a lot of arcane facts about birds. However, despite our vast bird knowledge, we know absolutely nothing about this bird. We discovered it pecking our sofa the other night. It appears very hungry as it will peck at almost any surface –coffee tables, rugs, your chest. Fortunately it is a large bird, so perhaps we can keep it without worrying that we will return home one day to a pile of feathers and two full cats. If anything, it looks like the cats are the ones who should worry, it might try to peck them next.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
toby of the day, 5.8.2008
the women's restroom where I work is just fine. it's reasonably clean, there are usually paper towels, there are even daily attempts by some insane prude to protect us all from any shameful peeping by covering up the 2mm of open space near the door hinges on one of the stalls. overall, I have no complaints. but for a long time, I have been perplexed by the plaque outside the restroom that touts it as a "nationally designated center for excellence". such a moniker would lead me to expect more out of the restroom. like golden toilet seats, or at least hands free faucets. something. fortunately, they recently added another plaque specifying that it is the breastfeeding room accessed from the bathroom proper that is the center for excellence. although, again, I'm not entirely sure what makes it a center for excellence. sure, it has its perks: the dilapidated vinyl furniture is not too uncomfortable, there is a blue checked cotton privacy curtain so you can separate yourself from the people who come in to nap on the vinyl furniture, there’s a dusty potted plastic flower and some wall decorations including "por favor, no fumes" scrawled in sharpie under the window that is too high for anyone to see out of, and of course there’s the hospital grade breast pump chained to the radiator. but I must admit that excellent isn't a word I associate with the room. drab but functional, yes. excellent, not so much.
Whether it was to increase the level of excellence, or just spruce things up, a couple weeks ago, someone brought in some old issues of parents magazine. it turns out that parents magazine is absolutely terrible. it's as though someone came up with a way to merge People magazine and the ubiquitous "what to expect" book series. in case you're unfamiliar with these books, I'll just say that I stopped reading "what to expect when you're expecting" when it told me that I should never eat tempura while pregnant, because it would make me fat, but instead I should get jon to order tempura and ask him for a taste. I proceeded to eat tempura and use "what to expect" to wipe off my greasy fingers. anyway, back to parents magazine. it's full of tips. from how to potty train your child, once you've determined which of their stereotypes your child fits into (is she the "hippie" or the "energizer") to how to have a DIY pedicure party with appletinis for your friends who have never had a martini (I believe there could not be a more sure sign that I am not parents magazine's target audience than an article implying I might spend my spare time with someone who has never tried a martini). some of the headlines on the cover include: "new burping techniques" and "when wipes are just too small". seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up. needless to say, I now read parents magazine every day while I pump. sometimes I even stay a little longer than necessary to finish thumbing through. it's like a daily visit to the dentist, without the sore gums. the video below is the result of this daily investigation. it turns out that one thing 10 month olds are able to do is brush their hair. well kind of anyway. I'm especially impressed because we often don't actually brush toby's hair, it’s pretty much just wash and go. Which makes me think that perhaps hair brushing isn’t learned, but like all those weird newborn reflexes, it’s, well, reflexive. in fact, I think this discovery could be an entirely untapped area of research: the central pattern generator that controls instinctual hair brushing in infants. This could be my big breakthrough, nobel prize here I come. and all thanks to parents magazine. and that center for excellence. boy, they're sure magic.
Whether it was to increase the level of excellence, or just spruce things up, a couple weeks ago, someone brought in some old issues of parents magazine. it turns out that parents magazine is absolutely terrible. it's as though someone came up with a way to merge People magazine and the ubiquitous "what to expect" book series. in case you're unfamiliar with these books, I'll just say that I stopped reading "what to expect when you're expecting" when it told me that I should never eat tempura while pregnant, because it would make me fat, but instead I should get jon to order tempura and ask him for a taste. I proceeded to eat tempura and use "what to expect" to wipe off my greasy fingers. anyway, back to parents magazine. it's full of tips. from how to potty train your child, once you've determined which of their stereotypes your child fits into (is she the "hippie" or the "energizer") to how to have a DIY pedicure party with appletinis for your friends who have never had a martini (I believe there could not be a more sure sign that I am not parents magazine's target audience than an article implying I might spend my spare time with someone who has never tried a martini). some of the headlines on the cover include: "new burping techniques" and "when wipes are just too small". seriously, I couldn't make this stuff up. needless to say, I now read parents magazine every day while I pump. sometimes I even stay a little longer than necessary to finish thumbing through. it's like a daily visit to the dentist, without the sore gums. the video below is the result of this daily investigation. it turns out that one thing 10 month olds are able to do is brush their hair. well kind of anyway. I'm especially impressed because we often don't actually brush toby's hair, it’s pretty much just wash and go. Which makes me think that perhaps hair brushing isn’t learned, but like all those weird newborn reflexes, it’s, well, reflexive. in fact, I think this discovery could be an entirely untapped area of research: the central pattern generator that controls instinctual hair brushing in infants. This could be my big breakthrough, nobel prize here I come. and all thanks to parents magazine. and that center for excellence. boy, they're sure magic.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)