Noah's Ark

Although sometimes I get sad that we don't have a creek running through our backyard or that Dash's walk to school won't be through the woods, there are some things about living in a big city that just plain rock. Take, for example, our recent visit to the Skirball Center's Noah's Ark exhibit.

the calm before the storm (the zebra's rump was a painted swamp cooler and its mane was made of piano keys)

is it braggy to mention that he knew this was a camel?

the rain begins

quick! load the animals onto the ark (two by two!)

the Ark and its inhabitants: rope elephant, macaroni porcupine & violin case crocodile

someone has to clean up after all of those beasts

time for a drum circle break

though Dash mainly wanted to eat pretzels

even Baba got her groove

Dash decided he would collect all of the red noisemakers, which was a good plan in theory

just like in the story, it ended with a rainbow and lunch at the Getty down the road

Brace Yourself

Halloween Parade

Happy Halloweenie, 2007!

Halloween, Thus Far

Here's a bit of what I've been up to this Halloween season. There were also cookies and cupcakes that, though yummy, came out too ugly to take ownership of.

These are baby Granny Smiths, each is about the size of an egg. (Stakes are courtesy of Martha)

Treat bags for Dash's friends at school. I printed vintage Halloween cards onto label paper & stuck them onto glassine bags from Target. Each bag contains some cinnamon alphabet cookies and a couple of pieces of candy.

Cupcake boxes for our neighbors and Dash's teachers.

The cupcakes are red velvet, so when you bite in they look like they're bleeding. Yum.

Grub, bub

I always thought it was so weird when my dad would hand me a plate of food at whatever odd hour I wandered in and just set back in his chair to watch me eat. He told me then that I wouldn't ever understand the pleasure a parent gets from watching their child eat until I had kids of my own.

And how.

I'm thinking now, wondering what I enjoyed more: hearing his first "I love you, Mommy," or watching Dash eat an egg and some cherry tomatoes. I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I swear to God it's the food. I always knew he loved me, but I honestly never believed I'd see him eat a tomato.

Fair Cop

Dash is learning about personal property. He walks around the house pointing out random objects and naming their owner: boxers in the laundry, "Daddy;" espadrille wedges, "Mommy;" nana blanket, "Dash." And so on.

The other day my Mother was sitting for us when he happened upon a wine cork that one of the cats must have stolen off the counter. He held it up proudly to his Baba and declared: "MOMMY!"

Goddamn right, son. Goddamn right.

Shroo

Twenty-five posts of sunshine coming out of my ass. Cripes. Now back to our regularly-scheduled ceaseless complaining.

Dear Method,

I love you. I love that you're affordable and available at Target (or what we Engels call "our other house") and smell nice and are good to the environment. I will use your products through thick and thin.

Just one question, though; your dish soap bottles used to look like this:So easy to grab with soapy hands. So lovely to look at--never any need to hide it from guests.

Now they look like this:

Lemme ask you. Did anyone at your packaging design hq actually try to wash dishes with this thing? How many times did the bottle slip into the sink before they declared, "Fuck it. What alternative do those Gore-loving hippies have?" Five? I'm guessing five.

Sincerely,
Housekeeping

**

Dear Person Who Put on Dash's Diaper Yesterday,

I was never any good at physics, either, so I totally see how you could get confused. But the thing is: the diaper has to actually be fastened at the waist in order to stay in place and most effectively absorb the effluvia.

Regards,
The Laundress

**
On a related note...

Dear Dash's Large Intestine,

Really? Ten minutes apart? Full on runs? That doesn't seem excessive to you?

Thanks for nothing,
Head Ass-Wiper

**
But there is some sunshine to report.

Dear Caillou,

Bless your high-pitched, innocuous, Canadian heart. Your mom looks like she actually gave birth to two kids,


and I would move into your house tomorrow if I could.


I'm glad Dash loves you.

Love,
The Entertainment Director

**

Dear Woman in Prada Glasses and Business Attire Walking Down Wilshire Eating a Chicken Leg,

You're flawless.

Warmest Regards,
An Admirer