A Woman's Work is Never ___________

Hello!

Sorry I've been MIA of late, guess I've been busy being a mother, a working mother. I could say there's no glory in motherhood (they wouldn't even light up the Empire State Building for Mother Theresa for cryin' out loud!) but ask me again whenever John smiles or laughs at me, and I'll retract that statement.

My little sweetie pie is growing fast and doing all kinds of new things like laughing, drooling, grabbing faces, glasses, and necklaces and rolling over on his sides. And he's got two bottom teeth poking out. Pretty soon he'll molt from a mole person into a mobile person. That's going to be a hoot.

Speaking of hoots, Auntie Jenn made this sunburst bib for John. Doesn't it manage to look delightful despite the dollop of puke on the front?

PS Doodle's been good. She won't use her new litter box (but hasn't used the bed), hates her new food (my bad, this working mother tried to save time by ordering a similar thing online, negativo resultivos), she ran away (again), she caught another mouse (again), and she killed it in the bathroom. Again. So, Mouseville took another hit and things are status quo in Doodleville.

John, NYC ~ August 3, 2010

Meet You on Niagara Street

Buffalo, New York, circa 1908. "Erie County Savings Bank, Niagara Street." 8x10 inch dry plate glass negative, Detroit Publishing Company. View full size.

www.shorpy.com

www.marriedtothesea.com

Baby's Got a Brand New Play Spot

photo via www.poshbaby.com

When John was a wee wee little one, he didn't need much room for much of anything. Now that he's rolling over and on the brink of being mobile in the self-powered way, I decided it was time to designate a nice comfy corner for him in which to play. His "Uncle" DeeAnne purchased these delightful interlocking foam floor tiles by Skip Hop for just such a purpose, and I set them up yesterday afternoon. I learned this morning that the new romper "room" isn't just a great place for baby to hang out in his Fisher Price Kick 'n' Play bouncy seat, but it's also suitable for Mommy to get down and do her 7 Minutes of Magic Qi Gong DVD. I wonder if it is also a nice place for Mommy to nap? Baby got up at 3 a.m. today. Oh, baby...

www.marriedtothesea.com

What Happens When You Wear Eleganza?

Things!

Johnny Johnny Quite Contronny How Does Your Garden Grow?

When I was home on maternity leave, I spent a lot of time over at my sister Whipcreamy's house. She and her hubby have a lovely backyard they work on most every weekend which upon buying the place they brought back to life with a wonderful lawn, plants and flowers. Upon seeing it, JD suggested they grow some vegetables. It was planting season afterall, and he urged that they get the stuff in the ground as soon as possible so as not to miss the window. Back in the day when this City Mouse did a stint Upstate as a Country Mouse, he tried a vegetable garden himself by tossing a bunch of seeds into a patch of dirt and had some pretty good success with it. He had enough of a return to produce a tiny salad, afterall. The way he described the process, he made it seem easy, but we were all daunted by the idea nonetheless.

Intrigued, I decided the garden idea was goin' down, no matter what our objections were. Whip and Hubby tossed all the rocks out of a corner of the lawn that got the most sun and tilled the soil. I bought a boatload of different seed packets at the Dollar Store in town, and one night over a few glasses of wine and PBRs we banged it out. Sure, we had a book to guide us, but no, we really didn't know what the hell we were doing. We just plopped the seeds in the dirt into dedicated rows as neat as we could be, highlighted the rows with some string tied to old tent stakes with the designated packets on top, and then crossed our fingers to see what happened with water, sunshine, and time. We named it John's Garden.

I present you with a photo of a newly-planted John's Garden:

Anne and John ~ May 4, 2010

And some of the results:

Anne and John ~ July 2, 2010

Lesson learned: More often than not, it pays to just bang something out even if you don't know what the hell you're doing. So what if its not perfect? If we waited for perfect, we'd have no zucchini. Or John, frankly.

GTL 1905 Style

The Jersey Shore circa 1905. "Atlantic City, on the beach." Surf, sand and Steeplechase Pier in the distance. Detroit Publishing Co. View full size.

Do you think The Situation would recognize this Jersey Shore? How could he? The view's the same from the gym, the tanning booth, and the laundromat.

A Good Summertime Read

John, NYC ~ July 14, 2010

Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman

Nothing Says Summer Quite Like a Weird Picnic

Mother's Little Helper

I like to keep plenty o' the "appetizing, stimulating tonic" around here. It's "essential at this time."

Got Crabs?

I made this recipe for dinner last night, after having seen it on Dan Eaton's Cooking at Home segment on NY1 in the morning. Now, folks say that Dan creeps them out a little bit. Sure, his voice is on the high side and his hair is on the 80's side, but he invented a good and easy crab cake. I'll be sure to keep checkin' in with Dan and his recipes now that I have a baby, and I have to cook stuff. The days of Saltines for lunch and Miller Lite for supper are over.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Homemade Crab Cakes - Dan Eaton

SERVES: 8

INGREDIENTS:


1 pound canned, pasteurized crabmeat

8 slices white sandwich bread

1/3 cup finely diced red pepper

1/4 cup finely diced red onion

1/4 cup finely diced green onion

1 heaping Tbs Dijon mustard

1/2 cup mayonnaise

Olive oil for sauteing crab cakes

Tartar sauce and sliced tomatoes for serving (optional)

PROCEDURE:

For 1 pound of crabmeat, you'll need to cut the crusts off of 8 slices of bread and finely dice it and throw it into a large mixing bowl.

Take a few minutes to pick through the crabmeat to make sure there aren't any small pieces of shell in it and then add it to the bowl with the cubed bread and add 1/3 cup finely diced red pepper and 1/4 cup each of finely diced red onion and green onion and then add 1 heaping Tbs of Dijon mustard and 1/2 cup mayonnaise and mix everything together.

This amount of crabmeat will make 8 medium sized crab cakes and you'll want to shape them into equal sized 1-inch thick patties.

Cook the crab cakes in batches or in one large nonstick pan with a splash of olive oil until they're golden brown on both sides and hot all the way through.


HINTS:

Feel free to cut this recipe in half by buying 8-ounces of crabmeat instead of 1-pound. Jumbo lump crabmeat is more expensive than back fin crabmeat….either one works fin although there may be more bits of shell to pick out of the back fin meat.

Serve the individual crab cakes with a little tartar sauce and some sliced tomatoes if you like or with a simple tossed green salad.

How Do I Do It?

NERVINE, of course.

Hey. Wait a minute. I've gone through every pocket of my purse. I'm out of NERVINE! Need large package ASAP.

What Happens Las Vegas

John, NYC ~ July 19, 2010

--

I mentioned earlier that John got a ride in his first ExerSaucer on his four-month birthday, and JD named it The Las Vegas of Playtime because John gets such a kick out of it. Ironically, it is a medieval-themed version with King and Queen, Jester, etc, and looks not unlike the Excalibur Hotel.

Lately we've been playing a game where JD will "fly" John around the room and into Las Vegas: "We're now landing in Las Vegas International Airport, where the time is 4:20 pm and the temperature a comfortable 108 degrees..." And then he plops the baby down in the seat, and we usually have the following conversation with him as he bops around in there and has his mind blown:

• Good afternoon, Sir. Welcome to the Excalibur Hotel. Are you checking in? Do you need help with your bags?
• Here are you keys, Sir. Suite 5000. Yes, the Dom is chilling in your room, everything is as you requested.
• Dinner is at 6:30. Shall we draw a bath in the meantime for you, Sir?
• Have you had too much to drink, Sir?
• Would you like another drink, Sir?
• Is this dealer cold? Would you like to switch tables?
• You're crying. Have you had enough of Las Vegas?
• No? Would you like another drink? Can I interest you in the roulette table?
• Have you tried the slots? Please swivel around and enjoy the buffet.
• Glad you're having a good time.
• You're drooling, Sir. There's a big puddle betwixt your toes. Or is that pee?
• As the Mayor of Las Vegas, I would like to present you with the Keys to the City.
• Sir, I noticed you got sick on yourself. And you're crying again. And you may have made a little bean pie in your pants. Did you make a little bean pie in your pants? Whoa! Excuse me, Sir? If it's no trouble, might you warn me before you belch your drink of formulakkah in my face? Okay. Can I escort you to your room? Are you ready to leave Las Vegas? You can always come back...

Are You Sure These Babies are Fresh?

Time for a Re-Post: Dick in a Green Track Jacket

Remember Dick in a Green Track Jacket? I didn't, either, until tonight. Man, I love remembering things.

Most of the time, anyway.

Enjoy.

Refreshing

www.marriedtothesea.com

Nothing Says Summer Quite Like a Weird Picnic

Water Beds 'R' Good 'N' Trashy

Why Thank You!

Big Birthdays in Las Vegas

John turned four months old yesterday. Since he's outgrown his "lie around on the Boppy pillow and get a flat head while Mommy watches The Price is Right" stage, I thought it was a good opportunity to drag out the over-sized toy my boss generously donated to us, an enormous EvenFlo ExerSaucer (ie: Neglect-a-Saucer) which had been living in a jumbo black garbage bag in my foyer.

I was hoping against hope that the baby didn't like it so I'd have a reason to donate the saucer someone who lives in a more appropriately-sized dwelling, but to my chagrin, John is bonkers for it. JD calls the ExerSaucer, appropriately, "The Las Vegas of Playtime." Here is Mr. Las Vegas himself literally in his element:

John, NYC ~ July 14, 2010

-

Additionally, John celebrated his four-month milestone this morning with a new trick after Fido's own heart: He rolled over. His Daddy and I cheered, complete with a high-five. Go Johnny, go Johnny, it's your birthday. Now if you don't like what you see, just spin around, you little twerp! This is Las Vegas!

Do You Know What It Sounds Like When Your Neighbor's Soda Can is Empty?

I do.

He's been fishing around for those last few droplets with a straw for five minutes. Now techincally speaking, he could ingest all the remaining moisture if the can were to be crammed down his throat. Just a suggestion, something I thought of this very second.

Someone's Got His Big Bag of Pretzels On Today

So it's time for a re-post! Enjoy.

Shrimp Recipe of the Day

I made this for shrimp recipe dinner last night, and I highly recommend it for its easily acquired ingredients, quick preparation, and zesty flavors which will impress those folks whom generally aren't very impressed with you.


Garlic Lime Shrimp with Black Bean and Corn Salad by Aviva Goldfarb of The Six o'Clock Scramble:

This combination makes for a colorful and delicious summer feast. It can also be transported to a picnic and served at room temperature. Serve it with brown or white rice.

Ingredients:
1 lb. large shrimp, peeled and deveined, and thawed, if frozen
1-1 1/2 limes, juice only, 2 1/3 Tbsp.
1 Tbsp. minced garlic, (4 - 6 cloves)
1/4- 1/2 tsp. kosher or sea salt, to taste
15 oz. canned black beans, drained and rinsed
1 1/4 cups frozen corn kernels, thawed (or use kernels off of 2 - 3 ears of corn)
1 red bell pepper, finely diced
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1/4 tsp. salt (optional)
3/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped (optional)
1 cup low fat sour cream, for serving (optional)

In a large bowl, combine the shrimp, 2 Tbsp. lime juice, garlic and kosher salt. Refrigerate it for 15 minutes while you prepare the black bean and corn salad. (Meanwhile, prepare the rice, if you are serving it.)

For the salad, in a medium bowl, combine the beans, corn, bell pepper, 1 tsp. lime juice, 1 tsp. oil, the salt (optional), and 1/2 cup fresh chopped cilantro (optional). (If you are using fresh corn, boil or microwave it for about 3 minutes before adding it to the salad.) Refrigerate it until ready to serve.

Heat 2 tsp. oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. With a slotted spoon, remove the shrimp from the marinade, reserving the marinade. Sauté the shrimp for 2 - 3 minutes until it begins to turn pink, flipping it once or twice as it cooks. Add the reserved marinade and continue cooking for about two more minutes, until the shrimp is cooked through. Toss it with 1/4 cup fresh cilantro (optional). Serve the shrimp and salad with a dollop of sour cream, if desired.

Scramble Flavor Booster: Stir a little fresh lime juice and cilantro into the sour cream before serving, and dice 1 chili pepper, such as a jalapeño or Serrano chili, into the salad.

Tip:

While the shrimp imported from Asia and Latin America are often not an ideal choice because of the lax environmental and fishing regulations in those areas, there are now more sources to buy U.S. farmed or Canadian wild shrimp which are much better options for the environment. Look for U.S. or Canadian shrimp from brands like Henry & Lisa's Natural Shrimp available at Walmart, Giant Foods, Whole Foods, Harris Teeter, and Publix, or get a list of stores in your area through http://www.ecofish.com/.


SERVE WITH BROWN OR WHITE RICE
Prepare 1 - 2 cups quick-cooking brown or regular white rice according to the package directions. (Or don't. I didn't)

Life's Tough So Let's Make Fun of These Folks For Awhile

Baby Clam

We put John to sleep in a full clam shell last night. He still awoke at 3 am.

Weird Engagement Photos Part MCMMLVMVMMVXX

Say cheese. No, seriously. Say it. Cheese.

You know the expression, "Oh, to be a fly on the wall?" This photo makes me want to be a fully loaded pigeon in the sky.

The 2010 World Cup: John Versus Grampa's Gut

John wins!

John, July 5, 2010 ~ VT

Her Latest Trick

Doodle, NYC ~ July 6, 2010

Baby's arrival, age, and general boredom have affected Doodle's mood of late. I seem to remember a time when she wasn't discontent with her dry food and constantly begging for meaty bits from a can like a dog would, but it's a distant memory. Every time I go into the kitchen now, she whines for food, despite the fact that she gets meaty bits for breakfast and dinner. The problem is, I go into the kitchen a lot these days because the baby needs a bottle every few hours and to Doodle, that means Meaty Bits Time. But if I feed her on every occasion she asks for it, she'll either eat it all and throw it up on the carpets, or not finish it, rendering it useless.

The afternoon I took this picture, she had given up on the posturing with audio after a dozen attempts I ignored, and so she simply sat by her dishes. Cats have tremendous patience; she knows that at some point, someone will give in. Yes, the floor is dirty. And yes, that's Ernie atop her dry food dish in the background, a cherished gift from Aunt Whipcreamy.

We're Having a Heat Wave Alright

And after one look at my electric bill, I'm having a heart attack:

Lame.

Some Magic From Ms. Anya

Anya Garrett & Lisa Levy Pose The Question: Who is THE WOMAN I’M AFRAID OF TURNING INTO?

Combining vibrant expressive portraiture and in-depth psychoanalysis, NYC comedy scene shutterbug Anya Garrett’s photo series THE WOMAN I’M AFRAID OF TURNING INTO promises her viewers catharsis along with chuckles. This showing of Garrett’s all new work will be hosted at HEREart Gallery, with grand opening slated for July 15th, 2010 from 5 PM to 7 PM. Complimentary wine will be served. Admission to the HEREart Gallery is FREE.

Anya Garrett has photographed celebrated NYC comediennes Abbi Crutchfield, Amy Schumer, Ann Carr, Becky Yamamoto, Carolyn Castiglia, Leah Dubie, Livia Scott, Mara Herron, Ophira Eisenberg, and Sherri Eldin-- as well as herself and her co-producer -- for this exhibition. The project began as a collaboration with “Dr.” Lisa Levy, conceptual artist and self-proclaimed psychoanalyst, who alongside Garrett performed in depth sessions with the subjects about their fears for their future selves. Garrett extracted inspiration from these meetings, allowing her to shoot and create highly intimate portraits of these women in vulnerable yet darkly comedic situations.

HERE
145 Avenue of the Americas
(enter on Dominick Street one block south of Spring)
New York, NY 10013
www.here.org
212.352.3101

ANYA GARRETT is a photographer, filmmaker, and performer. She’s documented the NYC downtown comedy scene for over 6 years and has been recognized multiple times at the ECNY Awards. Anya‘s book containing a full year of daily self portraits, 365(6), was just published. She’s been seen on Comedy Central’s STELLA as well as onstage at UCB. Works in film and television that she has contributed to have been recognized by the Emmy and Webby Awards, and at the NY Television Festival. She’s currently producing a syndicated late night talk show. Sometimes, Anya even sleeps. www.anyagarrett.com

"DR." LISA LEVY is a conceptual artist, self-proclaimed psychotherapist, performer, comedian and advertising art director. As Dr. Lisa, she is the resident psychotherapist for the new GalleryBeat web series from Paul H-O. She also performs psychoanalysis on comedians in her regular show "Stand Up. Lie Down." Lisa also makes conceptual art and has exhibited widely at venues such as White Columns, Artists Space, Printed Matter, The New Museum and the Scope Art Fair. www.lisalevyindustries.com

Funny, Smart and Interesting Won't Cut Bachelorette Ali's Mustard

"It didn’t feel good letting Craig go at the end of the night because I liked him so much. He is funny, smart and interesting. I am almost smiling when I say goodbye to Craig because I know in my heart that we will end up being good friends after this. Looking forward to seeing him at The Men Tell All.

Until Portugal …"

XO, –Ali Fedotowski on poor ol' Craig Robinson, aka The Poor Man's Peyton Manning

photo credit ABC

Come Monday

Come Monday


Headin' up to San Francisco
For the Labor Day week-end show
I've got my hush-puppies on
I guess I never was meant for glitter rock and
roll
And Honey I didn't know
That I'd be missin' you so

Chorus:
Come Monday, it'll be all right
Come Monday, I'll be holdin' you tight
I spent four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze
And I just want you back by my side

Yes, it's been quite a summer
Rent-a-cars and west-bound trains
And now you're off on vacation
Something you tried to explain
And Darlin' it's I love you so
That's the reason I just let you go

Come Monday, it'll be all right
Come Monday, I'll be holdin' you tight
I spent four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze
And I just want you back by my side

I can't help it honey
You're that much a part of me now
Remember that night in Montana
When we said there'd be no room for doubt

I hope you're enjoyin' the scen'ry
I know that it's pretty up there
We can go hikin' on Tuesday
With you I'd walk anywhere
California has worn me quite thin
I just can't wait to see you again

Come Monday, it'll be all right
Come Monday, I'll be holdin' you tight
I spent four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze
And I just want you back by my side

I spent four lonely days in a brown L. A. haze
And I just want you back by my side

~
Written by Jimmy Buffett, 1974

True

www.marriedtothesea.com

Weird Engagement Photos Part MCMMLVMVMMV

Fashions for July

Fashions for July. (1860)

300 Canal Street, NYC today.

The Daily Grind 100 Years Ago

"New York circa 1910. Looking down Broadway from the Post Office. Singer, City Investing and Hudson Terminal Buildings. Detroit Publishing."

www.shorpy.com

Emailing with Tuna the Fish

Anne: "John's growing like a weed. You?"


Tuna: "I'm growing like a weed too. You wouldn't believe how I've changed since the last time you saw me. Pretty soon I won't fit into any of my clothes and I'll be off to school."

Beer Flow Chart

www.marriedtothesea.com

Looks Like It'll Be Christmas in July for Ms. Doodle

photo via ModKat.com

Because it's nothing but the best for a kitty who has used the toilet for almost 11 years. I placed an order for the ModKat litter box in black this morning. The ModKat promises revolutionary space-saving design and litter/odor trapping functionality. With a grand total of $231.51, it'd better. No Vermont for Doodle this summer or any other season as far as I can see, but she may find that digging in the dirt is a fine vacation substitute.



"Digging In The Dirt" by Peter Gabriel

Something in me, dark and sticky
All the time it's getting strong
No way of dealing with this feeling
Can't go on like this too long

[Chorus:]
This time you've gone too far [x3]
I told you [x4]
This time you've gone too far [x3]
I told you [x4]

Don't talk back
Just drive the car
Shut your mouth
I know what you are
Don't say nothing
Keep your hands on the wheel
Don't turn around
This is for real
Digging in the dirt
Stay with me, I need support
I'm digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
Open up the places I got hurt

The more I look, the more I find
As I close on in, I get so blind
I feel it in my head, I feel it in my toes
I feel it in my sex, that's the place it goes

[Chorus]

I'm digging in the dirt
Stay with me I need support
I'm digging in the dirt
To find the places I got hurt
To open up the places I got hurt

Digging in the dirt
To find the places we got hurt

End of an Era: End of the Errors?

John and Doodle, MA ~ May, 2010

Considering the major life change that is John, Doodle's adjustment to her little brother has been relatively smooth. I spent a ton of quality time with Doodle before John was born. Namely because I knew things would be different once our new roommate arrived and also because at the end of my pregnancy, all I could do was lie in bed on my side. Doodle loves nothing better than a still, warm snuggle companion. After John was born, I read in my baby books that you're supposed to limit the time you spend with your animal friend before the infant comes home in order to prepare her. Oh well. I guess I'll just add this to the list of several well-intentioned parenting mistakes I'll make along the way.

Doodle was terrified of John at first, not sure what to make of this wiggling, crying thing that smelled weird and seemed to be everywhere: on the bed, in the basket, on the table, in the swing, in the bouncy seat, with Mom. Always with Mom. But once she realized the squirming twerp wasn't a threat to her safety, she relaxed a bit and went on with her life, a little hungrier for food and attention.

Most readers know that Doodle cat uses a toilet instead of a litter box, something I trained her to do over ten years ago with incredible results. I basically moved her litter box into the bathroom, put it atop the toilet, then switched it with a mixing bowl filled with litter, and finally, used some plastic wrap with a hole in it, the litter scattered on top to direct her where to go. And voila!Over the decade, she's had an 85-90% success rate, even managing to poop and pee in strangers' toilets when we've traveled to Massachusetts or Vermont. The problem has been, however, that when she makes a mistake (or an intentional mistake), it's often a costly one in terms of money, effort, and frustration for both of us.

On Monday, Doodle peed in the toilet and I gave her cheers, per usual. Later on, JD's Mom and brother came over to see the baby. JD was in the bedroom on the phone, and Doodle was running around acting a little crazy. Generally I pay close attention to her activity to thwart any potential rogue doo doo bombs, but I was entertaining. I assumed she was running to and fro because she had just done her #2 business in the can and was due another round of praise. I was wrong.

JD screamed out from the bedroom. I rushed in with a "What? What?? What???" He was in shock, and all he could muster was a gesture toward the clean comforter which, in my corner of the bed, now contained a little nest of logs compliment of Doodle cat. In her confusion over the number of guests fawning over the new roommate whom has stolen her thunder since March, she flipped and failed.

With the comforter clean and no "Bad kitty!" reprimands, I'm finally coming around to the idea of providing Doodle with her very own litter box so both of us don't endure the potty time stress anymore. She's a wild animal (wilder than most) with an intelligence, sophistication, and grace which surpass most homo sapiens, and I'm so proud of her. I think it's time I honor her with a box of dirt she can toss turds around in just like her peers. And if she wants to act like a lady and dump in the can once in awhile, that's fine too.

Viva Doodle!

Got Pride?

~

Diana Davies photographs, 1965-1978 ~ Christopher Street Liberation Day, NYC~ 1971

Let's Face It

Having a baby is a good reason to buy this kind of crap so you can put your baby in it and say, "Wow! Look how cute my baby is lovin' this crap that I bought for him (with giftcards)!" Doesn't John need a beach chair and umbrella? At 20% off? I think so. It gets pretty bright in my apartment in the afternoon.

I'll Be Fit as a Fiddle in No Time Thanks to Sans

He found someone (a very cute someone) to jog for me.

Thanks, Sansy! I'll drink to that!

He Likes to Splash It Splash It

John, NYC~ June 22, 2010

When the Baby's Away the Cat Will Play

This little piggy went to market
This little piggy stayed home
This little piggy had roast beef
This little piggy had none
This little piggy cried weeeeee all the way home


And


This little family took a train to visit friends in the Philadelphia area this weekend. There we thoroughly enjoyed exotic suburban luxuries such as central air, washer and dryer, finished basement, SUV, and a big back yard with a kiddie pool. We didn't take Doodle cat with us.

Since we left late Friday afternoon and were scheduled to return early on Sunday morning, I didn't think I'd need to get a friend to come over to check on Doodle. I always worry about her when I'm away, but I reminded myself that one day by herself isn't a big deal. She's a former alley cat for cryin' out loud, she can handle it. Plus, it generally takes two full days of being alone and bored before she freaks out, and she had more than enough food and water to cover one full day by herself. Before I left for work, I gave John's Daddy (I'll call him JD) a Doodle Checklist, which he followed to a T:

• Put up the step ladder (for her enjoyment)



• Close the bedroom door (to discourage a rogue turd expedition)



• Open a window (for ventilation)



• Close the drapes (to keep it cool)



• Keep the closet door open (she likes to sleep in there)

Remember that JD was not only preparing Doodle for our departure, but also packing up Baby John for his first visit to Philly. Anyone who knows anything about babies understands that getting out of the house with a baby is challenging no matter what. Because they can't pack for themselves. Or walk. And they require a lot of odds and ends and bits and pieces and you have to anticipate which ones will be required during your stay. Diapers, formula, burp cloths, clothing, extra clothing for barfed-on outfits, toy, white noise machine, car seat, etc. And since we don't have a car, travelling with a baby is extra complicated and obstacle course-y, because we must carry everything we're bringing with us on our backs.

Lucikly we travel well together and are getting good at it. The journey out was smooth, the journey back even smoother, and a great time was had by all. John got to "swim" in his first swimming pool, sleep in his first Pack 'n' Play, and JD got to celebrate his first Father's Day. My only regret was not eating breakfast at the house before we left because by the time we got back to the apartment, I was ravenous. And of course, curious how Doodle fared in our absence.

As I put the key in the door, JD said, "I wonder if there are 50 million turds in the house."

"I don't know," I said as I turned the key. "Maybe she surprised us."

She surprised us, alright. The smell in the house was not good. Sure, it was hot and humid, and presumably the cat had done at least some of her business in the toilet, but it had only been the one full day. Soon Doodle appeared, content and relaxed, which is a nice change from most cases after I return from a weekend away wherein she greets me at the door frantic and meowing. Now John, no longer distracted from the taxi ride, made it clear that he was hungry, so I had to get it together for him. I pulled a bottle out of the diaper bag, and as JD brought in the rest of the stuff, I went to the bathroom to flush the toilet and eliminate the stench so that John --and eventually we--could eat lunch in a pleasant setting.

At the bathroom's entrance, I was stopped dead in my tracks. Doodle played her own version of the World Cup this weekend. Not with a ball, but with a substantial mouse. And evidently, the mouse lost. Big time.

Look closely at this picture--as hard as it may be--because there's a lot going on. Exhibit A, obviously, is the mouse, taking front and center stage apparently having died a thousand violent deaths. The toilet in the back is chock full of waste, compliments of Doodle. Good girl! Mid-ground is a jingle ball, which may have been a part of the World Cup Game or found itself on the field later. Assorted spots on the ground are fur: mouse, cat, or both. The picture which had been sitting against the wall to be ultimately hung up (and then I went into labor) is askew from the scuffle. Doodle herself is on the side of the tub, so stoked to show off her kill that she can't get out of her own way.

I did a 180 degree turn when I saw this cat and mousy show and screamed for help. JD cleaned up the crime scene (and took this picture) because I couldn't handle it. Suddenly, I wasn't so hungry anymore. I ran to the kitchen to get the paper towels and bleach, and lo and behold, the kitchen door was wide open! In JD's haste to remember everything for Doodle and John, he had forgotten to bolt the back door. Thus, the wind blew it open at some point over the weekend, and Doodle had her run of the place, inside and out. For hours. Approximately 48 hours. Nope, she hadn't found that mouse in my house, she went down 8 flights to the laundry room and out the window to get it, and bring it back up for a good time.

No wonder she was so calm and collected when we got home. She didn't miss us one bit. In fact, she's definitely wondering why the hell we lock the back door at all when life is so much more interesting when her square footage of living space is increased and she can roam as she pleases. Had Doodle not found a mouse, she'd without a doubt have the " Gone Huntin' " sign up when we returned. And had she caught more than one, this joint would've turned into full-on Apocalypse Nimh.


Now back to the photograph for more fun facts. In the tub you can see John's blue playmat, which Doodle peed on earlier in the week and turned into a pissmat. I washed it, and it was hanging on the side of the tub to dry when we left for Philadelphia. But in the mouse melee, it must have ended up in the tub. I pictured the trembling mouse hiding in the mat's folds, Doodle with her paw placed firmly on top. When I went to tidy up the bathroom after JD disposed of Doodle's prize, I whisked up the mat to find approximately 50 million mouse turds flanked by a mega bonus of what I can describe only as a trio of organ meats, delightfully stewing in their own sauce which had coagulated and rendered the gizzards so stuck to the tub that I couldn't pick them up with a dry paper towel. There was also something resembling a tendon in the mix that was particularly stubborn to remove, resisting my grip with the stretchiness of a rubber band. Ahhhhhh eeeeeeeeeee yahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!


When did the disemboweling happen? Before or after Mr. Mouse found himself on the tile floor? Was he so scared of Doodle the Ripper that he literally crapped himself to death in the tub? What's more thrilling, the chase or the kill? What's tastier, the heart or the liver? Was there mouse roux in the pile of Doodle's barf on the carpet this morning? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know if I want to know. What I do know is that everyone had an amazing weekend. Well, almost everyone.

Someone's Not Thrilled About Her Baby Brother

Doodle, NYC ~ June 17, 2010

We left John's playmat on the floor and Doodle decided to play on it, changing its name. Pissmat.

Weird Wedding Photos Part MCLMMVMXMMVM

Remember this crappy series? Well, it's wedding season, folks! And the perfect time for a re-introduction. Enjoy.

My Cousin Went to Hooters: A Review

My cousin went to Hooters last night and said there were "lots of hooters."

There you have it.

Kid Farm

The Party's Over

It seems like yesterday that I had a bun in the oven and was waddling around in the cold and getting into fights on the subway when folks wouldn't give up their seats for my pregnant arse. Now the baby's been born, my maternity leave is over, the warm weather is here, and I'm officially back to work.

Not many mothers yearn to leave their children with others so they can bring home the bacon, but it's a fact of life that I have to work. I miss my baby something terrible; we were inseparable for 12 months, afterall. But in the interest of Embracing the Positive Side of Life so You Don't Kill Yourself, I've realized there are some upsides to leaving the house.

One is getting off the sofa and away from the television set. I'm certain I watched every episode of every program on basic cable more than once. I saw so much t.v. I actually witnessed someone win the double showcase on the Price is Right (11 am EST on CBS). That doesn't happen very often, folks--the contestant has to be within $250 of the cost of her showcase to win both, okay? And this woman was off by $151--so... it's clear I put some serious hours into the boob tube while John put some serious hours into my boob boobs.

Another upside to being a working mother is engaging in face-to-face conversations with everyday people from all walks of life over the age of 0-3 months. Sure, mommy groups are nice (I had the chance to join one when I was back home visiting my parents), but the topics of discussion rarely stray from what new Moms are all dealing with 24 hours a day: a parasitic eating, eliminating, sleeping and crying machine who has suddenly developed baby acne and may not be getting enough tummy time--is he normal? Will this last forever? Sure, it's important stuff, and you want to know you're not alone, but sometimes you just want to hear about a great new restaurant--that doesn't have crayons on the table and sawdust on the floor-- that someone --not wearing a burp cloth on their shoulder-- had the chance to eat at recently.

What else? Well, leaving the house to go to work is a good reason to put on pants. And a little makeup, maybe run a brush through the hair. My apartment was a pants-free zone for a long time, because John and I lived on the bed, most everything we needed within arms reach. I wore a Men's XL t-shirt and John a diaper and "putting myself together" meant tossing on a robe before I answered the door for the man delivering the take out cuisine du jour.

Now that John practically sleeps through the night, the house and I are a little less messy and a little more ready for our close ups. Three months later, the baby has almost doubled his birthweight and I've already lost over half the pounds I've gained. I'm not back to my pre-pregnancy shape, and I'm not sure if I'll ever get back there, but I am finding some things in the pre-John wardrobe that fit reasonably well enough to be seen on me in public. And the public, generally, has been quite kind, offering up sentiments like, "You don't look like you just had a baby," and other crocks of shit that I'm all too happy to buy.

Last Thursday, I wore one of my red dresses from my old life which is made of fabric with a little give and has chic little "distracting pleats" in the mid-section. I was so pleased with my appearance, my reflection in the mirror almost convinced me for a nanosecond that I didn't have a baby who happened to be gurgling adorable things just a few feet away as I got dressed. Almost.

On my way home from work, I decided to visit the nail salon near my office for a touch up on the old eyebrows which hadn't been weeded in awhile. I hadn't been there since February when I got a pedicure at eight months pregnant because I couldn't see my toes. When I walked in, I was greeted by the salon owner with a big smile and enthusiastic hello, and all the ladies gathered around to see baby pictures and ask questions about John. Then the salon owner pushed my tummy and said, "You jog."

"Oh, well, yeah..." I shrugged, deflated.

And again, she pushed with her finger. Poke poke. "You jog." And she did the jogging motion with her arms, in case I didn't understand in her broken English that I'm now a fat ass.

"Yeah," I sighed, "I'll get there..."

"Because before, you sooooooooo theeeeeeeeen. And now," she gestured with her hands to make a big belly, "you soooooo..... beeeeeeeeeeeeg." Poke poke. "You jog." Jogging motion.

"Ok."

"Ok?" Poke poke. "You jog." Jogging motion.

"Ok."

I'd go kill myself, but I've got a baby to take care of. Meantime, I'll find someone to jog for me.

Why This Item is No Longer Available

Is because it's freakin' gorgeous!

I met a bride-to-be recently and this is her wedding ring. Paloma Picasso for Tiffany.

Apparently she got it just in time before all the other bitches snapped 'em up because now they're done sold out, yo.

He Likes to Move It Move It

John, NYC ~ May, 2010

It's Sink Season Everywhere

Doodle - Beverly, MA ~ May, 2010

That's me, the terrycloth clad photographer, reflected in the spout.

The Hospital Bills Are Rollin In

www.marriedtothesea.com