Doughnuts and Drugs


Yesterday was Andy’s actual birthday. So, like any good wife, after I dropped the kid off at preschool, I came home with a dozen doughnuts. He was pleased with me. He did say it was probably too many, which made me laugh, as there is one left in the box right now. I mean, duh.

I don’t know how much Audrey grasps the concept of “birthday,” but it must have stuck with her, because when I picked her up a few hours later, she was chanting, “Daddy’s birthday, Daddy’s birthday.” When I told her we would actually see that very daddy for dinner, she squealed with excitement, and spent the rest of the day talking about the “sghetti” we were going to make for him. (It’s fancier than you think: it’s Rachael Ray’s Cowboy Spaghetti, made with beef and bacon and Worcestershire and hot sauce and fire-roasted tomato sauce. Look, Ma, I cooked!)

After naptime, we took a fun excursion to my midwife’s office to pee in a cup. By the time we hit the grocery store parking lot, I got the not surprising call that I had a UTI and antibiotics were awaiting me at my pharmacy. I asked if I could have them in liquid form, as every time I try to swallow even a Tylenol, it’s a life-or-death battle. I was told to take it up with the pharmacist. I had Andy picking up the drugs after work, cause he had the money on him. So it wasn’t until much later that he came home saying the pharmacist had to check back with the midwife’s office to get a proper dosage if it was going to be liquid.

Whatever. Blergh. So we had a tasty dinner and split a doughnut and the kid was off-the-wall excited to have Daddy home chasing her around the house. “Daddy! Git me! Git me!”

So today the pharmacy and midwife’s office finally make contact – and everything seems to be hurting me more knowing how close and yet how far away I am to drugs – and they find the right liquid version. But heads up, the pharmacist tells me on the phone, it costs $560.

Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’ve had liquid antibiotics before and they were normally priced. What on earth is this one made of? So I call the midwife’s office, who calls the pharmacist, and a nurse at the office calls me back to say, hey, while the original drug is in giant capsule form, you can undo them and empty the contents into a bite of pudding and just eat that.

SERIOUSLY? Yes, please, I’d like to have been doing that since last night.

Oh, well.

I wanted to post a cute video here of the kid singing Happy Birthday, but I do not understand these little memory cards at all. So, you know…maybe later, when I can talk Andy into it.


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Party Animal


It was a pretty exciting weekend.

Friday the kid and I headed to my folks’. That means way too short a nap in the car. I dumped her with them and went to my old high school to see a musical and attend a reception for 50 years’ worth of musical alumni. Yes, that’s me in the background of every show. I think I even had a line each of my junior and senior years!

My mom started taking me to the plays at the high school when I was in 6th grade. I worshiped those big kids. I thought they were the most amazing, talented people to ever walk the earth. And the people I was in high school with were really impressive too. And then I watched the current crop of kids performing Friday night, and I realized, yeah…we were all probably just like that. Adorably kind of talented and awkward and awesome and nervous and…yeah.

The kid partied hard with the grandparents while I was out. Stayed up late, refused real food and ate crackers and other packaged nonsense, but what the hey, it was a special occasion. She practiced her new favorite phrase, which is, “I KNOW.” You know how you do that thing where you kind of narrate the action so your kid learns language? Well, she ain’t about to be talked down to like that anymore. ” Ball. Gams.” “Yes, Grams gave you that ball.” “I KNOW.”


Duh, lady, that’s WHAT I JUST SAID.

So we hear that every day now.

Saturday we came back to town. Another short car nap, so a kid who’s starting to be more than a little sleep-deprived. So we threw a party to celebrate Daddy and his BFF’s birthdays coming up. Aud loved it. There were kids, there was another day of eating chips and cake instead of food, and while she looked painfully tired for a while, she got her twelfth wind and worked the room all night. And a good time was had by all.

Sunday we got up and went to church. Then we met Andy’s mom and sister-plus-family for some lunch. Note: pregnant lady at a buffet=pain. I was pretty much dead after that. Aud passed out on the way home and finally got a real nap in and THEN we had my parents over because it’s almost my mom’s birthday too. By then we were mentally gone and were the most boring people to ever entertain company ever. Ever. We had to wait for Audrey to wake up so someone would be charming.


Okay, if I have to.

Then yesterday we got back to our comfortable nothing. How do you people with lives do it?

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Oh…we’re going there


I am falling behind on Bible reading. Shocker, right? It’s hard to know how to deal with this stuff. I feel my options are A) Wow, this God is brutal; B) What looks harsh is probably an improvement on where society was – the idea that God meets us where we are and moves us forward a little at a time; or C) People projected plenty of their own scary values onto God.

I would sure like it to be B, but it doesn’t help you feel any warm fuzzies while you’re reading it.

So let’s talk about a hard passage here in Numbers. This is how a man is to deal with an unfaithful wife. Well, let me rephrase that. This is how a jealous, controlling man is to deal with his own anxieties about his wife’s faithfulness, even if he has no evidence whatsoever that she cheated on him. He is actually supposed to inflict this on her in order to find out. (You’ll note, no one cares if a man is unfaithful to his wife at this time.) He takes her to the priest, who mixes holy water with dust from the Tabernacle floor and the woman has to drink it. If she is guilty, the bitter water will make her abdomen swell and her womb shrink, rendering her infertile, and causing a lot of pain. If she is innocent, it won’t affect her and she will still be able to have children.

Now, the implication here is that if she should dare to be knocked up by some other guy, this will absolutely induce abortion. God-ordained, priest-induced abortion. Let that swirl around in your mouth awhile. This passage, as weird as it is, is the closest the Bible ever comes to addressing abortion. No, seriously. (And yes, abortion was a known practice documented elsewhere in the ancient world.) Do with that what you will.

This calls to mind another bit in Exodus that I just did not know what to do with at the time, but I have to mention now. In the long list of who you are allowed to kill for what reasons, many oddly specific scenarios are given. Here’s one: If two dudes are fighting and they accidentally hit a pregnant woman, who then miscarries, whoever hit her has to pay whatever fine her husband demands. “But if there is further injury, the punishment must match the injury: a life for a life, and eye for an eye…” and so on. Now let THAT sit with you a moment. The death of the unborn child does NOT COUNT as a life that would need to be balanced with another life. It’s not morally okay to cause that miscarriage, but it’s not the taking of a straight-up innocent human life that is roundly condemned everywhere else, and requires the death of the murderer.

Look, I’m not morally neutral on abortion at all. I’m not pointing these things out to say it doesn’t really matter. But I do find it crazy interesting that you really can’t make a solid Biblical case against it either.

Thinking about all this stuff is why reading the Bible is hard for me. Also, probably good for me. But, oh, so hard.

Let’s balance this passage by remembering how Jesus treated a woman caught in adultery. That’s straight-up CAUGHT, not suspected. Oh, yeah: “Let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone…Yeah, that’s what I thought. Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”

Let’s Party Like It’s 1600 BC


God wants to make sure you know how to have a good time. Really! Cause there’s got to be some reward when you can’t have sex with sheep or sacrifice your children to Molech. So here is when you party:

Passover – No working on the first and seventh days of this one.

First Harvest – I don’t know if there’s a modern corresponding holiday for this one or not. And it doesn’t so much look like a party. Mostly sacrifice.

Shavout – 50 days after the First Harvest. Some sacrifice, and a day off work.

Rosh HaShanah – The new year, with a day off and trumpet blowing.

Yom Kippur – The day of atonement. Take the day off, fast, sacrifice, make things right with God.

Sukkot – 5 days later. Spend seven days living in makeshift shelters, so you don’t forget how tough it was when you came out of Egypt. First and eighth days you get off work.

More rules: Keep the lampstand in the Tabernacle burning constantly on olive oil, don’t plant your fields every seventh year. We depart from the rules for a minute to tell a specific story about a dude who blasphemes against God while in a fight. He’s held in custody until God tells everyone to stone him to death.

There are some curious real estate laws here I can’t completely follow. Ever 50 years is Jubilee. Everyone is to return to the land of their clan and, I think, give up ownership of any land they had purchased in that time. In fact, anytime someone sells property, they have the right to buy it back when they feel like it. Exception: a house in a walled town, a year after sale. Exception to the exception: a Levite can buy it back anytime. I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t know why I’m typing this part up at all.

Slaves are set free during Jubilee. Don’t ever treat a fellow Israelite as a slave, but you can treat other people as slaves, and pass them on like an inheritance. But don’t allow foreigners to treat Israelites harshly.

God gets very specific on how good it will be for people if they obey the laws. God will make their crops grow, keep wild animals away, let them slaughter their enemies, and hang out with them and be theirs. Of course, the horrific opposite is true for disobedience, including things that start to sound like exactly what is going to happen: enemies will occupy the land and the Israelites will be scattered throughout the nations. God forsees repentance and renewal though. God’s not gonna give up on them.

Here’s a fun little tidbit: If you decide to dedicate a person to God, you can pay the value of that person instead. And here’s what you can get for your shekel:

50 shekels: Male, 20-60

30 shekels: Female, 20-60

20 shekels: Male, 5-20

15 shekels: Male, 60+

10 shekels: Female, 5-20 or 60+

5 shekels: Male, 1 mo.-5 yrs.

3 shekels: Female, 1 mo.-5 yrs.


posted under the Bible in 2014 | Comments Off on Let’s Party Like It’s 1600 BC

Yeah, It’s the Bible Again


Okay, we’re almost through Leviticus. Keep on chugging, keep on chugging…

Here are some more rules for you from God! (No, not actually for you. So don’t worry. Paul will tell us again and again in the New Testament that this stuff does not apply to followers of Christ, Gentile or not. So chillax.)

Don’t sleep with anyone you’re related to, whether by marriage or biologically. God goes into specifics here, but if you have questions, just…don’t have sex with family members, mmkay?

Don’t marry a woman and her sister while both are living (Oops, Jacob!) Don’t have sex with your wife during her period or for seven days afterward. No sex with animals. Don’t consult mediums.

Don’t let your children be sacrificed to Molech, a local god who was into that sort of thing, I guess.

Dudes can’t get it on with other dudes. If you’re tempted to keep this one alive as opposed to all the others, you should note in this time and place there was no such thing as a mutually supportive, monogamous gay relationship. What did go on was a lot of pagan naughtiness, including boys being used as temple prostitutes, something no decent person, gay or straight, would consider okay.

Again God notes this is all stuff those wicked Canaanites do.

There’s some more about caring for the societally screwed: Leave some of your harvest for the poor, pay your workers on time, don’t trip blind people, judge fairly, don’t be a bullying bystander, treat immigrants like they’re natives.

Don’t mate two different animals, plant two kinds of seed in your field, or wear clothes made of two different fabrics. Hmmm, where do you think GMOs would fit here?

Okay, a lot of these are repeats. Sorry.

Then we have a list of the punishments for these things, from death, to being cut off from the community, to infertility.

God gives the priests a lofty set of standards to live by too. Of note, they can’t be the ones to offer food to God if they are “blind, lame, disfigured, deformed, [have] a broken arm or foot, or [are] hunchbacked or dwarfed, or has a defective eye, or skin sores or scabs, or damaged testicles.” Huh. Sounds like a list of people Jesus would have had dinner with. My, how times will eventually change.

Over and out.


posted under the Bible in 2014 | Comments Off on Yeah, It’s the Bible Again

Today in Parenting “News”


Every now and then, I’ll scroll through the articles on the Yahoo parenting site. I can’t do it all the time; they can be pretty inane. Today I’m going to sum up the latest news for you based on the headlines alone. Because they probably won’t get more informative anyway.

Woman Expecting Triplets Births Four Babies Instead

Andy told me about this one yesterday in the midwife’s office, after I confirmed I was nowhere near big enough to have more than one in me. He said they were all of them non-fertility treatment related and, in fact, identical, which is so insanely rare. Doesn’t the thought of this just make your life seem easier? I mean, really, you’re not going to go grocery shopping with four infants. They don’t even make carts that big. Could you ever leave the house again? Ohmygoodness, one baby and one toddler seems like a walk in the park now!

8 Things I Want to Teach My Kids About Being Happy

There’s a version of this useless meaningful article ever day. I bet you could figure this one out yourself. Let me guess: happiness is a choice, happiness is not something you need someone else to provide. Blah blah blah 6 more things like that.

10 Presidential Baby Names

There’s a version of this article every day too. 8 Olympic-Inspired Baby Names. 6 Names Inspired by This Thing You Like. Basically that. Look, if you like a TV show, or country music, I think you can figure out these things without clicking through a list.

What Happens to Parents When You Have Too Many Snow Days

This one is probably funny. I see a lot of posts when bloggers have their kids home more than they were expecting, and they all sound crazy. It makes me stop and think about my inclination to homeschool. They’d be there EVERY. DAY.

Barbie Graces Cover of “Sports Illustrated,” Mom Wants Apology

First, I don’t think magazine titles go in quotes; second, I think that comma should be a colon or semicolon.

Woman Breastfeeds Puppy to Save Its Life

I don’t even know what to do with that one.

Is It Poor Etiquette to Have Second or Third Baby Showers?

In most cases, I believe so. I’m sure there are exceptions for unusual circumstances. That being said, no woman should ever turn down a party if it’s offered, amiright?

Study Says Moms aren’t as Annoying on Facebook as Everyone Thinks

I wonder what fine institution devoted research to this.

6 Baby Name Pet Peeves

Oooh, let me do mine! 1. Names spelled differently than the traditional. Jaxston is going to have a hard time. 2. “Boy” names on girls. I know this is just me and I think you have every right to name your kid anything you want. I just like to be able to tell gender with a name. I’m so old-fashioned. Though I’m sure it works out better for the gender confused kids to have a more flexible name. 3. Names made of made-up syllables that sound nice. Oh, man, I’m such a cranky bitch. I should stop now.

Doctors Find 44-Year-Old Fetus in Woman, 84

I’m fighting hard not to click on this one. It sounds like it belongs on a tabloid cover with the breastfed puppy.

A Message to My Daughter: Don’t Be a “Good Girl”

Many articles like this every day. I agree with what I assume the message is: don’t let people take advantage of you because you think you’re supposed to be “nice.” I think of the stories I’ve read of children brought up in scary fundamentalist churches who were so indoctrinated with the respect of elders and male hierarchy that they didn’t even know “no” was an option when they were sexually assaulted. That’s the extreme, of course.

Tech Savvy Tots Can Use Smartphones Before Writing Their Name

First of all: duh. Writing is a very complex motor skill that comes years later. Smartphones require tapping and swiping. It’s all okay. Also, it should be “Names” plural.

5 Books About Love to Read to Your Toddler

The picture is of Love You Forever, the creepiest parental love book ever. I’m not going near this article.

Is It Wrong to Call Daycare “School?”

Who cares?

Male Lawmakers Want to Make Breastfeeding Mandatory for Baby’s First Two Years

I’d like to assume this craziness is exaggerated/taken out of context just to make us read this article. But then a lot of craziness comes out of male lawmakers when it comes to women’s special parts. I’m going to assume they simultaneously want to ban public nursing. Just to make it extra-special.

One Mom’s Controversial Approach to Getting Her Kid to Sleep

When it comes to sleep, I can’t imagine there’s anything left that’s controversial. Anyone who’s been in the trenches isn’t going to care if she’s bribing her kid, cuddling her 8-year-old, or letting her toddler cry about it. You can’t surprise me!

I can’t take anymore. I’m tired. But now you know, you don’t have to read content ever!

That’s Icky. Don’t Touch That.


I know, I know, the Bible again. Is anybody actually reading these ramblings? Look, I can’t stop now. Writing about what I’m reading makes me absorb it in a way I just plain would not otherwise. Seriously, though, sorry if I’m boring you.

Ahem. We’ve sort of been in Numbers and Leviticus, if you’re wondering. Chronological Bible and all.

We do some priestly ordination. There’s some special slaughtering so that God will appear as a big blast o’ fire at the Tabernacle. A couple of Aaron’s sons burn the wrong kind of fire for some ritual and God just burns them up right there. Moses, ever so sensitively, says, hey, God said God’s glory would be displayed.

“And Aaron was silent.” No doubt.

More God rules. The priests can’t have alcohol before going into the Tabernacle. Bunches of animals aren’t okay to eat: shellfish, birds of prey, camels, hares, pigs, certain insects, lizards, rats, doggies and kitties. You really can’t touch their dead bodies either. It’s not what we’d call a sin, it just makes you ceremonially unclean. You are also unclean after childbirth, menstruation, having bodily discharges, having sex. Don’t even get me started on the skin diseases. There are a lot of complicated instructions on those, involving repeated examinations by priests to determine how dangerous it is, and how quarantined you have to be. I mean, they weren’t fooling around: skin diseases, bodily emissions, animals that scavenge, these ARE great ways to spread cooties. And since we know how dirty those pagans like to play, it’s a good way to be as different from them as possible too.

My favorite quote under the skin disease category: “If a man loses his hair and his head becomes bald, he is still ceremonially clean. And if he loses hair on his forehead, he simply has a bald forehead; he is still clean.” Good news, guys.

Then we have instructions for observing the Day of Atonement, which would be Yom Kippur, I’m assuming. It’s the usual sacrifice-fest, plus a scapegoat that gets driven out into the wilderness with the people’s sins on its head. Also, the people have to fast and not work.

Then a few admonitions about not sacrificing anything outside of the Tabernacle, so nobody gets too close to sacrificing to the wrong kind of deities.  And no eating or drinking blood in any form, because it is life. It’s only for sacrifice, because that’s where it has meaning. This serious prohibition will be why people look at Jesus like he’s nuts when he tells them they have to eat his flesh and drink his blood. P.S. He never for a second describes it metaphorically, and lets disciples walk away in horror over the concept. Food for thought.

posted under the Bible in 2014 | Comments Off on That’s Icky. Don’t Touch That.

Bebe Dreams


After three and a half months, I finally had my first baby dream. Here’s how it went.

Well, the baby was there in front of me, but required assembly. I put a couple face parts together, had a good chunk of baby there, but when I went to check the gender, realized I only had the top half of the baby. Found the legs and some other stuff, unwrapped some cloth covering each piece, and put my kid together. At that point, it was in a sleeper. So I cracked open a few snaps, and said, “Girl!…right?” And my mom was there and confirmed girlness. What can I say, the girl parts were kinda small. I picked her up and hugged her and was super happy. The sleeper was the first one Audrey ever wore. I almost called her by the name we currently like, but realized I should check with Andrew to confirm that first.

We were then in more of a hospital setting, kind of, and trying to check for her birth weight on her birth certificate and getting really confused. Couldn’t find it, or the time of birth either, but at the time I thought she was 7 lb 4 oz and born at 10:58 am. Later, there was a doctor in there telling us she was a huge baby, like 10 lbs, but that didn’t seem right. Although I had to admit the baby was pretty alert and happy for a newborn. At the time I was trying to calculate just how early she was too. It was at least a few weeks. So I was extra confused.

We were in an out-of-town hospital (this fact and the girl-ness were both influenced by a cousin’s baby being born yesterday in real life, just so you know. It’s not prognostication). We were all totally ready to bail – my whole family was there – as I felt just crazy perky. I remarked to the doctor what a breeze this second childbirth was (apparently forgetting the baby was assembled) and was ready to take over the world. I did want to stay long enough for food, but the hospital cafeteria was closed. At 4 pm. Stupid hospital. So my dad suggested we make some hamburger helper. “At a motel?” “No, at the park.” “Yeah, no, I feel great, but we’re going somewhere I can sit.” My mom and I were both muttering something about Taco Bell under our breath.

We went to get in the car and I realized we had brought the infant car seat but not the base. After way too much fretting, and trying to figure out if we should take Audrey out of her seat, we realized we could still install it with the seat belt in the car. While we were working on this, the baby, now back in the hospital room, crawled over to her seat and chilled there. Audrey was hanging with her on the floor. So then we got in the car. Before that, I realized I should try to feed her, and whipped one out. My dad looked away fast. It went remarkably well; there was milk a-flowing and everything. The the kid declared she was done.

So we went to a restaurant that had an amazing selection of weird, Halloween-themed desserts. I had something that was like cake and candy all fused together. On the way in, I had found two cocktails – Pink Ladies – left over from an event my favorite bookstore had had the night before, and helped myself to both. I was hyper happy. A couple of friends were there at the table now too, and one I hadn’t seen in forever remarked on my happiness. Yeah, it was good.

This was totally the least weird baby dream ever. The ones I had with Audrey were super surreal.

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Don’t Do That


Well, it’s about to get exciting here, for those of you following my Bible journey. 14  pages of Tabernacle construction!

Actually, that’s my summary right there: 14 pages of Tabernacle construction. You’re welcome.

God both hangs out in the space between the cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant and in the Tabernacle generally and over it like a cloud. When the cloud moves, the people pack up and follow. At night there’s a fire inside the cloud. Super cool.

The place is dedicated with lots o’ animal slaughtering.

They celebrate their second Passover (first after leaving Egypt).

God discusses the five different kinds of offerings to be made – burnt offering, grain offering, peace offering, sin offering, and guilt offering. Some of these are for thanksgiving or general worship, and some are for specific sins. When you do a naughty, a really nice, valuable animal has to die in your place, and make you right with God again. I imagine this to be quite helpful. We don’t all see immediate, tangible consequences of the things we do. I mean, it sucks for those sheep and goats and whatnot, but for people, physical things can be more helpful than abstractions. If you’re like me. Not that I want to kill a goat. I really don’t.

Sins listed here include not showing up to testify when you’re called to, touching unclean things, making foolish promises, cheating in business, and keeping lost property that isn’t yours, obtaining anything by lying. P.S. When you make restitution for anything you stole in this way, you have to tack on an additional 20%. Cause you suck. Too bad these laws aren’t in place in our business world, eh?

Next time: More stuff like this.

posted under the Bible in 2014 | Comments Off on Don’t Do That

So I’ve Totally Forgotten to Tell Audrey Stories


I take way to much effort talking about the Bible and completely slack off on proper mommyblogging.

Here are the cute things Aud says right now:

“I so p(r)oud to see you!”

“Hi, honey.” Or “sweetheart.” Or weirdly “Andew” and “Zhooey.”

She loves ballerinas but calls them “Bunny-eenas.”

She has learned the word “yours” after perfecting “MINE!” seven months ago.

However, she’s turned into a total pill about going to sleep. Naptime, bedtime, it all sucks and she just wants to party. The current practice is for me to sit in the chair in her room as long as she’s a) in bed and b) not being a turd. When she hops out of bed, I leave for five minutes. That used to focus her fine, but now I’m leaving for second and third times (longer each time) and it’s a pain. The funny thing is that with naptime, lately I can leave and she’ll just chatter away and have fun and then all will fall silent. I’ll eventually go up to check and she’s crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. Wonderful! I mean, it’s still a long process and it’s a no-go at bedtime, but…hope? Yeah?

She’s just gotten to a place…a level of will and attitude…that is it just plain ineffective to coddle her to sleep. I hate that word but I can’t think of another, and I don’t mean “coddle” as a negative at all. I mean that she just plain can’t sleep with me next to her and maybe not even with me in the room anymore. Yay, really, it’s good, and I’m glad she’s mostly self-assured enough for that. We’ll just have to start getting a little more hardcore with the evening revelries.


In other news, the wee baby in utero is kicking!


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