Note To Future Self

On a friend’s recommendation, we recently impulse purchased a Nuby Nibbler. I can’t even type it without feeling like a cutesy-wutesy dolt.

Despite that, the Nibbler is easily the best mesh-bag-on-a-technicolor-handle-feeding-toy I’ve come across. Just load that bad boy up with chunks of your defeated enemies (or fruit) and let the grizzly bear loose.

Grizzly bear: 1
Toast fingers: nil

Like father, like daughter.

note to future self: forget pork bellies, invest in banana futures!

Throughout our various pre-natal meetings and check-ups, my favorite bit of old wives’ hokum was the idea that the we should play music for the bean sprout, conditioning her to associate, presumably, soothing ye olde worlde folke lullabies with the snuggly warmth of the womb. I was always too happy to take the bait, nodding enthusiastically.

Oh, what music have you been playing?

Led Zeppelin.

I should interrupt this anecdote to mention two things:

1. Far from being an ardent fan, my familiarity with Led Zeppelin’s canon reaches, perhaps, the level of a furtive classic rock AM station listener. They play some of those songs we listen to on long drives, don’t they?
2. I actually subscribe to the fetus-learns-to-hear-in-the-womb theory for parent’s voices. I’d like to think the grizzly bear learned to tolerate our atonal warbling before birth. In the first few weeks after birth, nothing soothed her like the sound of our voices. But I doubt a steady diet of Beethoven could really convert your darling blasocyst into a NASCAR prodigy, or whatever parents want these days.

All that said, I borrowed some Zeppelin from the library, and did in fact dance the bean sprout to sleep while listening to D’yer Mak’er. Fancy that.

Addendum: On re-reading, I should probably mention that we didn’t actually play any Led Zeppelin to Sprouticus in utero. We didn’t really play any music explicitly for her enjoyment. Well, other than the Ozzy Osbourne/Madonna mix tapes we crank while doing the house cleaning.

It’s winter here, but the sun still shines now and again.

The bean sprout is six months old!

In honor of the auspicious occasion we’ve gone all multimedia and posted a movie here (it’s about 8MB). Yes, it’s a talkie. Mostly.

My soccer game on sunday was called after 80 bone-numbing minutes when the freezing rain turned to hail, so it’s fair to say that winter has officially started.

However, I’ve been a bit behind in my blogging, so here’s one last taste of summer…
This was our front flower bed in march last year

and in march this year. I guess those two weekends we spent digging for dinosaurs were worth it.

Parenting is hard.

Thank goodness for the Jonny Jumper.

Now to just set that bad boy up in front of the TV, put some Tele-Wiggles in the VCR, and get down the jug of Wild Turkey.

Oh yes.