In defense of grammar geeks

Courtesy of Kerry, #99 in the ongoing series of Things White People Like: Grammar.

Sheesh, can you believe there are people in the world who get frothed over the use of the comma? Or punctuation? Or the last letter of the alphabet? What kind of geek delights in discovering grammatical errors the same way kids love to find Easter Eggs?

*whistles tunelessly while looking obliquely to the left*

Hmph.

(P.S. If you click through to read the article, be sure to scan the comments. The original post is funny, but seeing how many people completely miss the satire and argue the rules of grammar — correctly and incorrectly — is priceless.)

Survivor, baby!

Was it just me, or was that one of the best seasons – and most satisfying finales – of Survivor in a long, long time? And wouldn’t you just LOVE to see Ozzy and Amanda do the Amazing Race together just like Rob and Amber did?

I usually find the first hour and a half of the Survivor finale rather tedious. They tend to recap and rehash just a little bit too much; even with my shoddy memory, I can remember what happened eight weeks ago. Mostly. But I really enjoyed watching it last night, mostly because it was like replaying our lives with Lucas so far.

You might remember that my water broke the morning of the season debut, but Lucas held off arriving until the next day just so we could watch Survivor that night. Seeing Jonny Fairplay and Mary again reminded me of how I’d missed a lot of the details of those earliest episodes as I paced in and out of the room with a wailing babe against my shoulder, trying anything to get him to settle down. By the time Jonathan Penner had to leave the game, we were giving Lucas his extra bottle at night, and he was starting to settle in to a workable routine. By the time Jason found the fake immunity idol, my little angel was sleeping rather reliably (shhhh!) through the night. And by last night’s finale, I could no longer remember what it was like to not have Lucas in our lives. Once again, Survivor and my life as a mother are inextricably intertwined — so it seems plenty appropriate that the Fans versus Faves series ended on Mother’s Day.

Is it just me, or is Jeff Probst getting hotter by the season?

***

Speaking of celebrity crushes, I’ve finally figured out why I find American Idol’s David Cook so compelling. I said before that I had a crush on him, but even then I knew “crush” was the wrong word. In watching the dual performances last week, I realized why I like David Cook so much: looking at him, I can imagine what my grown-up Tristan might be like. I don’t know what it is, but there is something in his face, his build, and even his demeanor that is so evocative of Tristan that once I noticed it I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

graygreenblue.jpgWatching for the ferryIt might be the eye colour. Like Tristan, David’s eyes seem to shift from gray to green to blue. I stole this photo from a fan site. And David is tall and broad-shouldered, like Tristan will be. And he has reddish brown hair that doesn’t really behave. Tristan is genetically predisposed to all these things, thanks to Beloved and I. My father was a professional musician when I was a kid, and Beloved’s cousin was the lead singer of the moderately popular Canadian band, The Tea Party, so he definitely has the potential for some musical chops. The more I think about it, the more similarities there are.

That’s not too weird, is it?

Good thing the nice weather is here. I think I need to get away from the TV…

Lucas at three months

Lucas loves the bathtub the way some people love roller coasters or horror movies; his eyes reflect both delight and abject terror, and he watches me with obvious trust. “This is fine, mum, as long as whatever you do, do NOT let go!”

Three months old

Three months of age is the beginning of the fun stage of babyhood, IMHO. Lucas smiles and laughs, and is beginning to interact with the world. He’s discovered his hands, and is starting to be interested in looking at toys and other things. And today, as a three-month-old gift for me, he slept for an hour in his cradle.

Happy third month, big boy!

Random bullets of stay-at-home mothering

So I survived my first few days full week week and a half (it’s taken me a long time to finish this post!) of being at home full time with all three boys, without daycare. Barely. Even if I did have time for a full post with proper paragraphs and segues and actual, you know, thought, I don’t have the brain cells any more. Bullets is the best I can do for you.

  • My overall impression? What the hell was I thinking. Three? Why didn’t you stop me? Or warn me at least.
  • Seriously, it’s not so bad. It’s worst when the baby is fussy or needy or being fed, which is only about twelve hours of the day. The sleeping times are good.
  • What the hell is it about the arsenic hours of 4 to 7 pm? If a day is going to go sideways, it’s going to happen during the arsenic hours. And it does — often.
  • Earlier in the week, I had my first genuine fight-or-flight moment. I’ve never been closer to bolting. No joke, for a delicious minute I seriously considered just dropping everything and walking away for good. A new parenting experience to add to my resume.
  • I feel much better now.
  • As if simply getting through an ordinary week weren’t enough, this week Beloved worked late three nights, leaving me to fend for myself with three at bedtime, the neediest time of day.
  • Thank god for my mother and pizza delivery, or else we all four might have starved.
  • Now, just getting through an ordinary day at home with the boys seems like a breeze.
  • Because I love a challenge, this was also the week I decided to volunteer for “Snuggle Up and Read Day” in Tristan’s classroom. Lucas was a celebrity on par with Hannah Montana in the six-year-old girl crowd. The boys seemed nonplussed.
  • It was, in retrospect, prolly not the best week to implement my new “less videogames and computer and TV” policy. But I stuck to it, sheerly because I am so damn stubborn.
  • I remember a time when I used to use my stolen moments to read a book, or a magazine, or even (gasp!) sneak onto the Internet. Now I use my stolen moments to empty the dishwasher or (gasp!) fold the laundry.
  • After two weeks of stunning warm temperatures and sunshine, the weather this week has been nothing but cold and rain. We’ve visited the grocery store with the free drop playzone (twice), the mall with the $4 drop-in playzone and Ikea.
  • I heart Ikea madly. You simply cannot beat an hour of free childcare in the ball pit during which you can leisurely browse Swedish ingenuity with a hot coffee, followed by lunch for four for less than $4. I knew we couldn’t stay broken-up forever.
  • Next week, we’re planning on two trips to Ikea and at least one to a McDonald’s playland. And Costco. Staying at home may just be as expensive as daycare after all.
  • I really, really have to get Lucas to start napping in his crib, or in the swing, or somewhere other than in my arms. Thank goodness he’s amenable to a good snooze in the car seat.
  • I’ve also discovered that if you run the dishwasher and the exhaust fan over the stove and put the sleeping baby in his car seat in between the two, you can drown out the sound of just about anything and pretty much double nap lengths.
  • I’ve also discovered extended amounts of white noise make me twitchy.
  • Or, that might be the boys who are making me twitchy.
  • I really, really like staying at home with the boys. But I really, really miss having intervals of longer than two minutes to myself.
  • This is going to be a stellar summer!

Second-hand show and tell

Andrea over in the fishbowl is hosting a little second-hand show and tell carnival. (She’s endlessly creative and clever, that one!) She often blogs about the cool stuff she finds, either in second-hand stores or even on the street, and she’s invited us to play along:

The goal here is to open more people to the idea of shopping second-hand, to showcase what kind of stuff is out there, but also remind people to donate their goods instead of pitching them in the garbage.

I love the fact that people are getting more and more into curbside recycling of goods, not by dumping them into the blue or black recycle boxes but by simply leaving stuff at the end of the driveway with a “free” sign on it. Just last Sunday on the way to swimming lessons, we picked up a perfectly lovely soccer/hockey net for the boys, which I was planning on buying this summer anyway, that was left with a computer monitor by the curb. Sadly, the monitor was still there the next day in the pouring rain and I’m sure is now sitting in a landfill somewhere, but the soccer net will have many years of use with its adopted family.

Other goodies I’ve scored from the curbside include a set of hockey skates, a bookcase, and an electric lawnmower. (What a picture I was that day, pushing Tristan and Simon in the double stroller while holding the dog’s leash with one hand, while dragging the lawnmower behind me with the other. A lot of work, but FREE! And that perfectly good lawnmower lasted us a good two or three years, if you didn’t mind the duct tape residue on your hands every time you cut the grass.)

That’s not my second-hand show and tell, though.

In thinking about what I wanted to blog about, I realized that we’ve hardly bought any new baby gear for Lucas. Of course, we already have a lot of stuff from the big boys, but after two babies’ worth of wear, a lot of stuff was starting to wear out. The only major things we’ve bought new were a bouncy-chair-toddler-rocker because the original one wouldn’t vibrate, and a fancy Maclaren stroller I got on clearance at Toys R Us because the old umbrella stroller was nasty and the bulky one that came with our original travel system was starting to look a little worse for wear as well. But we’ve been given or loaned a swing, a pack’n’play, a sling, and an infant car seat.

Which brings me, by way of the dairy and the dell, to the thing I wanted to blog about for second-hand show and tell.

My friend Candice and I are often on the same wavelength. She and my mom are the ones who, when the phone rings, I already know it’s them. Candice loaned me a lot of baby stuff when Tristan was born, including an exersaucer, a pack’n’play and one of those high-end MEC baby backpack carriers, all of which enjoyed liberal use by both Tristan and Simon. Then she had the audacity to go and have another baby when I was pregnant with Lucas, thus reclaiming a good chunk of our baby gear. Most of it I was able to beg, borrow or steal to replace from other friends and relatives, but I was really bummed about the loss of the MEC baby backpack.

About a month ago, I was in a local consignment shop buying splash pants for the big boys when I happened to notice they had a baby backpack in perfect condition for sale at about half the retail value. I was thrilled and snapped it up. The saleslady said they had just put it out, and the woman who was selling it had used it only once and hated it, so it really was in brand-new condition.

I got home and picked up the phone to tell Candice about my score, and heard the broken dial tone that indicates a waiting message. It was, ironically, Candice. She was calling to tell me that she was in Boomerang Kids, another consignment shop across town, and that they had a MEC baby backpack for sale. It was the exact same model, even the exact same colour, as the one I had just bought around the corner. “If you call them right away and tell them I referred you, they’ll hold it for you while you come down and get it. They’re so rare and so popular, it won’t last.” The selling price was even identical to I’d paid for mine. The time of her call was within about 10 minutes of when I was buying the one I’d found. Weird. I haven’t seen one in stores before or since.

I was going to add more to this post by going on about the glory of garage sales – both hosting them and trawling them as a family expedition – but Lucas is growing tired of swinging in the borrowed swing. And now that I think about it, since it’s the first weekend of May, there may in fact be a few garage-salers willing to brave the risk of rain today.

Do you recycle your stuff? What’s your best second-hand score?

The diaper debate

We’ve talked about circumcision and strollers, breast and bottle, slings and baby carriers. So far, though, I’ve avoided the cloth versus disposable diaper question because for me, it was never really a question. I’ve always used the disposables, and thought I always would. I’ve always suspected that even from an environmental perspective, the disposables weren’t as evil as they are made out to be. This past week, the NY Times called it a draw:

The heated debate over the environmental costs of diapers, a roughly $5 billion business, goes something like this: on one hand, the 25 billion or so disposable diapers used per year in this country are bad because they are made with petroleum-based plastics, account for more than 250,000 trees being cut down and make up some 3.5 million tons of landfill waste that won’t decompose for decades. Cotton diapers, on the other hand, now enjoying a resurgence in popularity, cost less over the long run but require vast amounts of energy from the production of cotton, the washing and the distribution. Environmental and industry groups brandishing rival stats and studies have effectively declared a draw. Even an outspoken group like the Natural Resources Defense Council declines to take a trenchant position (“six of one and a half dozen of the other,” a spokeswoman says).

I’ve always found disposables plenty convenient, and my mother swears that the cloth ones back in the day gave me wicked diaper rashes, so I was happy enough with my choice.

Last week, a friend told me about gDiapers. They have the same cloth shell and plastic liner of cloth diapers, but there is a disposable absorbent insert that you can remove and flush down the toilet. It’s fully biodegradable in 50 to 100 days, instead of 500 years for a disposable. You can even compost the pee diapers in your own garden compost.

The only part that makes me hesitate is the fact that you have to remove and tear open the disposable insert before you flush it, to help it from clogging up the toilet. And then you have to maintain the outer shell, of course. It seems like a lot of intervention, and I’m basically a lazy person addicted to convenience. I’m all about simplifying my life right now, using any shortcut I can.

They’re a little more expensive than disposables, but seem like an environmentally conscientious middle ground. Have you heard of them or tried, and if so, what do you think?