failure pile in a sadness bowl's Journal

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My innocuous quirk (for Renee):

Having to share popcorn with others causes me undue stress. This increases exponentially if (1) it is movie theatre popcorn, and (2) the person with whom I am compelled to share is Cullen.

Current Mood: crazy

Stuart has done some pretty repulsive things in the past, but this is the worst that I've witnessed. Thirty seconds ago, he took the lid off his diaper pail, skimmed his hand over what I can only assume was pee condensation, then took a taste.

Just a public service announcement.

Current Mood: sick

Someone posted this recipe for blueberry brownies, from Veganomicon, in

vegancooking the other day. The instructions make mention of sugar, but there is no sugar to be found on the ingredient list. If any of you has a copy of the book on-hand, would you please let me know how much -- and what kind of -- sugar is called for?

I'd like to make these for Stuart because he so rarely gets "treats." I have precious little time to bake, and premade baked goods that don't include eggs, cow's milk, or peanuts are hard to come by in Nowheresville, Wisconsin. For example, I discovered that the "low-fat" version of Stuart's beloved Fig Newmans (our local supermarket no longer carries the "regular" variety) contain dried milk. Of course, I made this discovery after I purchased them. And after I handed one to Stuart. You try wresting a "coooookie" from the death-grip of that child!

Edit: Never mind. I think I found the answer to my question here. And I'll just assume they're talking about vegan, granulated sugar. I have the authors' Vegan Cupcakes book, and "sugar" tends to be shorthand for that in all of those recipes.

Current Mood: working

One of Minnesota Public Radio's regional news overview nuggets for the day involves a proposal, currently in the State legislature, nicknamed "Dine With Your Dog." Basically, it's a motion to allow patrons of bars and restauarants with al fresco seating to bring their dogs (pets, not service animals) into the outdoor dining area. Which, you know, I could give or take, seeing as I don't have a dog, but am far from bothered by their presence.

That isn't the point of my post, though. I found this story to be noteworthy because, whenever the newscaster reports on the item -- which I've caught three times since this morning -- I hear the proposed legislation name as "Dying With Your Dog." And that brings up all sorts of horrifying images involving modern day incarnations of those mummified Peruvian pups. (The link does include a pretty remarkable photograph that some may find disturbing. If it's any consolation, the dog pictured probably would have died of natural causes a good 990 years ago, anyway).

Maybe the name was chosen, by the motion's sponsors, to be intentionally misconstrued ...:

"What?! Dying With Your Dog?! Who could get behind such a morbid, inhumane ... ? Oh -- Dine With Your Dog! Well, that sounds much better. Sure! Why not?"

Current Mood: weird

The three hours I spent with Stuart this mid-morning-to-early-afternoon can be broken down thusly:

an hour of holding a sketchpad in front of the boy, who sat in a one-cubic-foot galvanized steel bucket (where he had deposited himself) making very deliberate marks with his Crayola Washable Crayons, and even more deliberately placing each crayon back in the box. It was apparent that the bucket played a more important role in this tableau than I did.
90 minutes of watching coma-inducing daytime television programming while Stuart napped
half-an-hour of diaper changing, lunch preparation, and more sitting in front of the idiot box as Stuart tucked into his soy yogurt, carrot sticks, and bagel

I can't imagine why people who spend all day, every day, with a toddler go stir-crazy sometimes!

Current Mood: okay

I thought I'd tap into the vast experiential knowledge of my Friends List and pose this question: what is the most reliable way to lift (or strip) existing color from your hair, then reapply a shade vaguely resembling something naturally occurring (that is, not dramatically dark, light, or bright. I do work for the state government in an organization that trends conservative). I have access to a Sally Beauty Supply, so any specific product recommendations are greatly appreciated. I also have years of home hair-coloring experience under my belt; I've just never attempted this particular feat.

Oh, and the using-hairdye-while-pregnant angle does not alarm me. Truth be told, I have done it before. Always in a well-ventilated area, yadda, yadda.

Current Mood: curious

Why do people have such a hard time pronouncing Katarzyna? Oh well. I guess I don't have to bristle at the sound of her massacred name anymore. Except in the eternity of reruns.

Current Mood: confused

courtesy of

herlittledream

This may be of interest to a few of you ... .

Win a Free Ergo Baby Carrier from Along for the Ride!

Current Mood: working

This is a recent newsmaker from my hometown that seems to have also attracted a mild amount of national media attention. The comments appended to the article are actually surprisingly evenhanded, on the whole. Sure, there are some that are expectedly ill-conceived and reactionary. ("And people wonder why an increasing number of families are choosing to homeschool. Discussion of a teacher's sexuality has no place in the classroom. Are there no boundaries left?"). But most -- particularly those from Ms. Rowe's current and former students -- seem to express support in a very logical and reasonable manner.

Clearly, I support the teacher in this situation, especially in light of the fact (mentioned, several times, in the readers' comments) that the "disclosure" was really no more momentous than the sort of revelations made, utterly off-handedly, by heterosexual teachers on a daily basis. As the article mentioned, there had been plenty of speculation by, and delicately side-stepped direct questions from, students over the years. I can't say what my impulse would be if I was in her position. I'm inclined to guess, though, that her thought process may have taken into consideration the dissonance of encouraging students to ask anything within this putatively safe, open environment while simultaneously remaining conspicuously silent about one, benign issue (effectively according it way more weight and mystique than necessary). I know my mind immediately turns to the GLBT students -- avowed or not (more than likely not, unless the climate of middle schools has changed drastically since I was 13 years old) -- in her classroom, and the kernel of hope that her decision may offer them.

Current Mood: contemplative

damiel linked to this parade of horrors a while back. (It's work-safe, but perhaps not retina-safe).

Have any of you metro-area-dwelling Minnesotans -- or west-central Wisconsinites like myself -- seen wee Sven Sundgaard recently? The picture on his website doesn't really do his newly acquired complexion ... justice (?). I think someone needs to send him the Barstool Sports link and advise him that he is traversing a slippery slope.

Current Mood: scared

I'm afraid I'd be hung out to dry on this issue -- from one camp or another -- if I posted this anywhere besides my personal journal. You all know that Cullen and I really try to be discerning and present parents, though, yes? Yes.

A hemoglobin test was ordered at Stuart's 15-month check-up, and the results showed that he is anemic. This in spite of the fact that he has both an allergist and a dietician, in addition to his regular pediatrician -- none of whom has so much as raised an eyebrow, previously, at the nutritional content of our child's diet. (The dietician is the prime offender in my mind. She told us, right off the bat, that her forté was not dietary-based allergy management, and that she was more interested in behavior modification. Well, bully for her).

In any case, our pediatrician informed us that goat's milk (Stuart's beverage-of-choice) has no iron content to speak of -- which, after a review of the package, is true enough. But here's the real puzzler. The "prescription" he offered to counter Stuart's deficiency was iron-fortified formula. You know: the stuff we never had to use when Stuart was an infant. And, frankly, I'm not at all pleased about the prospect of going down this path now.

(I should add that a nurse practitioner Stuart saw a week earlier for an unrelated lung infection prescribed liquid ferrous sulfate, which didn't come in a more palatable, flavored suspension and, as such, tastes like ... well, liquid iron. We've had some success mixing it with citrus juice. Stuart's willingness to actually imbibe this concoction varies from day to day, though).

So far, I haven't given him any formula because the thought of doing so only intensifies the overwhelming feeling of FAIL that goes hand-in-hand with being an ineffectual bystander in the face of your child's chronic illnesses, especially when you've tried to do everything "right." I mean, extended breastfeeding? Check. Not starting solids until Stuart was six months old? Check. Introducing new foods on a conservative rotation? Check.

And I know that some people (none whom are likely to be reading this), who have always felt that my attitude toward's Stuart's care in general, and diet in particular, is too restrictive ("No-no, Stuart. You can't have a cheesburger because Mommy said so") probably feel vindicated now. Or, worse yet, that Cullen's and my choices are causing Stuart's health problems outright. Sometimes the thought even crosses my mind.

I did, in a moment of desperation, pick up a farina cereal product called Coco Wheats the other day. Even though it claims to provide 90 percent of the daily recommended value of iron per serving, it makes me sad to shovel Coco Wheats down my son's throat. It's probably just the name and the packaging, to be honest. The nutritional profile isn't really objectionable. I suppose I'm as much a victim of marketing as anyone. After all, I'd probably gamely serve the stuff if I'd found it, for ten dollars a pound, in a bulk bin at our local co-op.

Current Mood: crappy

( What? Too much? )

Current Mood: amused

What should I get Cullen for his birthday (next Friday)? He says that he wants "something for the house"; but I'd prefer not to buy, like, plinth blocks or deck screws for him. That would just be ... sad.

Comments screened, for obvious reasons.

Current Mood: curious

I get promotional emails from IKEA periodically. The subject line of today's reads: "A New Sofa May Be All You Need."

When can I inherit this charmed life in which a new sofa is all I need? And who needs a sofa, anyway? Sure, I'd like a new sofa (although not the white-with-white-flokati-throw model pictured in IKEA's ad -- which also features, quite unrealistically, a mother and toddler happily playing together atop said article of furniture. I think the mom is in such a good mood because sofa just arrived and hasn't had the opportunity to be adorned with applesauce and permanent marker). I'd also like for our cats' claws to magically and painlessly cease to exist in order to preserve this mythic, panacea-of-a-couch. Can someone see to that, please? Thanks in advance.

Current Mood: amused

I don't think I ever mentioned how the whole car fiasco panned out, mainly because it isn't much of a story. My dad ended up having to make the trip to Hastings (Cullen had reached some sort of stress-level tipping point), and jumped the car over my lunch break. I then drove it to a "quick lube"-type service station, where they tested the battery and could find no deficits. The technician's conjecture was "loose wiring," which was momentarily fear-assuaging (for the cheap-fix factor); and when I relayed this guess to our usual mechanic the next day, he seemed pretty confident in it, too. But, later that afternoon, he called with somewhat ambivalent news: they could find nothing wrong with the vehicle. Like ... nothing. All systems are "go" (except when they spontaneously decide not to be).

In the end, the ordeal cost me $10.80 -- plus the $70 I wisely dropped on a portable car battery charger. Not bad considering the money I could have been out. It's still kind of frustrating to know that there is no answer to my continuing woes more plausible than "disgruntled gremlins."

Current Mood: blah

There was a short piece on Minnesota Public Radio this afternoon about efforts to curb the incidence of bovine tuberculosis. How wrong is it that I laughed, out loud, when a state senator spoke of taking, "appropriate measures to ensure that there's no interaction between deer and cattle"?

Forbidden love, torn asunder by communicable disease? It's a faunal Romeo and Juliet!

Current Mood: ashamed to be amused

What? A commercial that I find morally repugnant? Imagine!

Because if you are not competetively employed, you must spend all your time self-flagellating, not indulging in such hedonistic distractions as watching television and chewing gum.

Current Mood: annoyed

Thank you,

half_iowan and

magaggies, for the updates.

Congratulations to

spider8 and

djande on the birth of their baby girl! I'm so excited to meet her!

Current Mood: ecstatic

The news has been leaking out in dribs and drabs for the past month-and-a-half. If you are reading this and know Cullen and I "in real life," please know that we made every effort to tell you in person; but, due to our hermetical lifestyle, we haven't been social animals lately (in my case, ever), and a mass email seemed a little ... vulgar.

For those of you wondering what I'm on about (or what I'm on), here's ( what's up ... )

Current Mood: excited