Adult Conversation

At a certain point, your little being will achieve a level of sentience that is completely self-centered, and it will realize that you are not always talking about him or her. At that point, you will not only find yourself with a to-do list of chores that reaches from the pile of dirty clothes in the bedroom to the faint memory you had of yourself as an organized, sane being, but you will no longer be able to discuss who is going to do what or how.

You will look at your partner and realize that you have no idea what s/he is doing at work or how s/he is feeling, and it's only because of Facebook that you know anything at all about him or her.

"So, I saw on your wall that you are really pissed off about randompoliticalsituationinAmerica and really love garlic cheese curds only slightly less than you love me and the kid."

You will realize that you only talk to have short complaint sessions or cursory exchanges about who is picking up... the kid.

It really is all about the kid, but now the kid is actually pointing this out to you whenever you happen to veer off kid-course.

If that kid is like mine, it will interrupt your discussion about how much that one guy looked like Frank Zappa to say, "Hey, mama... uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh what's that?" as he points off into the distance at what appears to be absolutely nothing, forcing you to suspend your pointless but still enjoyable exchange to say, "What, honey? I can't see what you are point at. I need more words."

(It's not looking at a goddamn thing. It just wants you to stop talking about anything that's not him or her. I suppose the honesty of that much blatant self absorption would be refreshing if it didn't remind you of randompoliticalsituationinAmerica and make you stabby.)

You will forget what you were talking about. You may forget middle names, birthdays, favorite colors, and entire conversations about truly important things as a wash of mittens, potty runs, Legos, snacks, and sporadic interruptions about nothing pours over you. You will become tiresome and uninteresting to any friends who have not or are not procreating. You will become tiresome and uninteresting to yourself.

You will find yourself writing blog posts about how tiresome and uninteresting you are, and you will grab a Guinness.

News Story on Childcare Union

In which babywhumpus' nappy head, shoes, and bum make appearances.

Story here.



I have many, many thoughts on this issue, which you can probably guess, but I am too mad to write about it right now.

Sofie Ketelaar (Oma), 1921-2011

Sofie Ketelaar (Oma), a set on Flickr.

Pete here... We lost an amazing person today, someone very dear to me. I know that my family and I will miss her very much.

Sofie was born and grew up in Germany, where she married Josef (Opa) 69 years ago! They had 3 kids (while surviving World War 2...!) and came to the US in 1952. Even though they spoke no English when they came here, they managed to build an honest and admirable life for themselves and raise 3 incredible children. They have also been an amazing part of the lives of their grandchildren and great grandchildren as well.

We are so honored to have been able to know Sofie, and I (Pete) feel so lucky to have been able to know her both as a child and as an adult. Her life and her words have always been an inspiration to me, and though I will miss her always, I will also always have great memories of her and remember the wise words she shared with me.

Goodbye, Oma! I love you! Thank you for all the love that you shared with me, and with all of us. We're all the better for it.

(I'll add more pictures to this set as we go...)

Car Talk

spontaneous babywhumpus monologuing:

"I like aikido class."

"I like Marie."

"I like being with Grandma & Gran."

"I like privacy."

breakfast out, 2011

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This is not an ad

DEFINITELY not.

I mean, I think it is the real poster for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but frankly, I am too terrified to go to their webpage to check for sure, in fear of what other horror might pop out at me.

I want nothing to do with this.

As if the giant shark-eyed dough boy and clearly psychopathic Ronald were not enough, there are clowns ALL OVER that scroll-down, with absolutely no warning.

This does NOT look like fun to me.

It looks like precisely the opposite.