Love & Blunder

That’s about all of the electric media that I consume outside of the internet. And when you don’t have television (in order to save money and save our children from widespread, unadulterated marketing) I end up hearing both ALL THE TIME. Olivia watches Toy Story at least every other day. She watches part of it every day. I am becoming intimate with all of the nuance and depth of Woody and the gang. And since my other brain-rot outlet is NPR I have developed some fun characterizations of your favorite toy Cowboy.

Woody is the equivalent of G.W. Bush. The All American Cowboy who’s used to things being his way. Then along comes Buzz Lightyear (the Democratic Party) which comes along and spoils all the wild western fun. Now, since Andy (who represents America) wants Woody and Buzz to get along, they’ve gotta find some way to make some bipartisan progress. Continue reading →

Every time that I start to feel bad about my parenting I read Dr. Sears and then I feel confident again.

Elise is my barnacle. She literally cannot be away from me without anxiety. Unless she is engrossed in play with another family member, if she is not near me she is NOT happy. But if I hold her, or stay in her line of sight all day she will not cry at all. She’s amazingly simple to put to sleep, rocking for 5 or 6 minutes usually does the trick. She really is a dream baby.

She just really loves to be held. So, I’ve been wearing her in a sling or wrap, almost all day, everyday. And she is sooooooo happy.

This isn’t really normal in America (no kidding) so I start to feel a little weird after a while, and begin to think that perhaps I am spoiling Elise. Continue reading →

And I ask this, not in a “what can YOU do” sort of way, though that is a good question. But I ask in a more defeated, “ah, I’m feeling the weight of sin” sort of way.

My Dad just went to India on a business trip. While he was there a bunch of beggars came and started pounding on the windows of the car asking for money. Some of the children didn’t have hands. Apparently their parents cut their hands off so that people would feel more compassion on them and they would bring home more money.

Also while there, he and his associates were taken out to dinner. The waiter brought out the Indian version of Diet Coke instead of the American version and so his boss fired him. My dad said that he felt terrible because it didn’t matter to him which kind of Diet Coke they served.

How is it that I can be sitting here in my warm comfortable house, with my children still connected to all of their limbs? I am feeling the weight of sin Continue reading →