look who has a case of the MUNdees

Doing my best to defunkify the funk - which, when I put it that way, makes it sound like I'm trying to get the smell out of something. And maybe in some ways I am. The SMELL OF THE GRAY DOLDRUMS. Today, I'm feeling both random and weird, which means that you get the benefit of random and weird. Now aren't you lucky?



I love the smell of a to do list in the morning!

We got back into town Friday night and woke up Saturday morning with a to do list that was about three feet long. A three-foot long to do list tends to make me simultaneously CRANKY and also MEGA MOTIVATED. Which is a weird combination. Luckily the mega motivated part of me won out and we got a lot done. Including some weeding. Which is strangely satisfying.




Mother? No? Not mother?

I received a really thoughtful email from Miss Sarah in Georgia, who remembers my SAD DEVOTION TO MOTHER'S SUGAR COOKIES. Being all connected and stuff, she received this message from the folks at Kelloggs, and had to share it with me, saying, "Yes, we're on the Mother's newsletter listserv". That's the kind of girl I can understand.

Mother's Cookies, Returning to West Coast Stores May 4

Posted by Erin Zimmer, April 30, 2009 at 6:45 PM

After filing for bankruptcy last year—but then being miraculously saved by Kellogg's!—Mother’s Cookies announces its return to West Coast shelves starting May 4. Many favorites seem to be back, including Circus Animals, Iced Lemonade, Iced Oatmeal, and Taffy.

I planned to head out to a grocery store today, to document this bittersweet entrance to the cookie aisle (I say bittersweet because the kind people at Kellogg's are all clued in to what YOU want back on your cookie shelves --namely those pink and white interlopers, the Circus Animals-- but are terribly uninformed what those with discriminating and complicated palates are craving --i.e. the irresistable Mother's Sugar Cookie--). ANYWAY. We went to the grocery store on Saturday and what did I find between the Keebler striped fudge and the Archway no-name cookies that no one eats?


Yep. That would be the NOTMother's cookies from Kelloggs. See how much I love you? I even took a picture (badly, but still: a picture). West coasters, you may now visit your local grocery store to pick up the circus animals or iced lemonade or iced oatmeal. Don't tell me I never did anything for you. East and middle/Not coasters? You're out of luck. Unless, of course, I do a giveaway at some future date and you win and I put a bag of circus animals in your package. That's a lot of If's.



I don't want to go in your car, it's all vomity.

There's a story about PUKE from last week that I haven't told you yet. And I'm still not sure if I want to tell the whole story, because it paints Chip and I in a very un-parenty / un-aware / completely IDIOTIC light. Um. Suffice it to say, there was some kind of middle-of-the-night puking event in Bean's vicinity (okay, IN HER PACK N PLAY) and we were totally oblivious to it. In fact, she woke up whimpering a little--- and we sauntered over to her bed, gave her a new paci, and then she went back to sleep. IN THE VOMIT. I know. I KNOW. It gives me the heeby-jeevies, and also scares the living daylights out of me because while we are totally STOOOOPID and OBLIVIOUS and obviously have malfunctioning NOSES, we AREN'T unschooled in all the bad stuff that could have happened to a little girl who throws up in the middle of the night. Namely, she could have choked. Or, like, DROWNED IN IT.

Oh nasty. ANYWAY. In the morning light (after Alice got some revenge on her dumb parents when they brought her pukey little self into bed, and she was able to roll around repeatedly against their faces and all over their pillows)--- Chip looked at me (after I'd been snuggling the smelly girl for a while) and said, "You know, she smells a little... vomity." And I was all, "Ummm... yeah." And then we turned on a light. And saw PARTIALLY DIGESTED BANANAS IN HER HAIR. And there was something of a freak-out on BOTH of our parts. We've never moved so fast to get Alice and I into the shower.

Also: can't say I've ever tried to rinse out thrown-up banana from someone's hair. If you're wondering, it's not an easy chore.

Let's move on from this nasty subject, shall we? But first: I have been trying to get the awful smell out of the Pack N Play for four days now and I'm not having much luck. And let's just say:

Febreze + Odour de Vomit = YUMMY



People are always asking me about Eskimos, but there are no Eskimos in Iceland.

You haven't lived until you have listened to my husband try to (poorly) imitate an Icelandic accent. Not that I know what an actual Icelandic accent sounds like. I just know it doesn't sound like the girl from Journey to the Center of the Earth. (Post-edit: Behold the power of the internet, and also dumb me. Guess I really DON'T know what an Icelandic accent sounds like because the actress that PLAYS the Icelandic chick in Journey to the Center of the Earth is actually FROM ICELAND. Well now.)



You haven't finished your milk. We can't put it back in the cow, you know.

Saturday marked the first day when Alice got all of her milk from a sippy cup. I had eliminated her two daytime bottles back in March, but I hadn't done anything about the first-bottle-of-the-day and the nightcap bottle, right before bed. Talk about stress, man. I did my best to take it in stride, but when Alice didn't drink any milk in the morning, any milk in the early afternoon, and then ANY milk before bed? I was a wee bit stressed. She drank some water, but it wasn't enough to make up for the nearly 12 ounces of dairy she'd been putting down before. Sunday dawned a new day, and I told myself that if things weren't getting better by afternoon, I'd examine my goal and see if I should make a change (like just remove the evening bottle, but keep the morning one). And... afternoon came and I decided that I could give it one more day. She didn't drink milk in the morning. She didn't drink milk in the afternoon. She barely put some down at dinner. What she did drink was a healthy dose of Pedialite, which I gave her telling Chip it was Gatorade for babies. He tried to drink a little and told me that it was DEFINITELY NOT GATORADE FOR BABIES because it was, in his words, "AWFUL". So again I told myself last night that if things hadn't gotten better by Monday morning, I'd just revert and not make a big deal out of it. But lo and behold, this morning Miss Alice actually DRANK HER MILK. FROM THE SIPPY.

I was going to ask you guys if anyone had some experience with this whole sippy cup switch for milk (she's been drinking from sippies for a long while now, but it's been exclusively water), but now, NOW I'M FEELING ALL SMUG AND STUFF. Behold my MENSA child who has figured out that she can actually drink the cow juice from a cup like the rest of us. My advice to anyone contemplating the switch: give it two and a half days. There. That's the end of my advice. Aren't I so helpful and stuff?



Now that I've done my best to bore you to tears with some of the Whimsy-brand Mundane, I'm curious to see who can name all the quotes I listed (and also annihilated) in this post. Game on, folks.