Destroyer of Laundry

It's laundry day.

Yesterday was also laundry day.

And the day before.

If you, y'know, wear clothes, this is a familiar process. And if you have kids, you really know how this goes. I'm not sure exactly how, but adding Danny to our household doubled the amount of laundry we create. The kid's only 16 pounds! (And yet, he produces more than triple his mass in spit-up every day.)

Laundry is my nemesis. It lurks in every corner of my house. A stray sock among the baby toys. A slimy bib draped over the back of the chair. The ever-growing pile behind the bathroom door. Everywhere I go, everything I do, it's watching me. It's like Sting.

I hate laundry.

But I have this new philosophy about housework. It's called Defeating It So It Can't Defeat Me.

Amazing Beautiful Creatures

This is one of our all-time favorite Sesame Street clips. Henry's been especially into it lately, asking me to sing the Beautiful Creatures Alphabet instead of the usual song. At the end, he always adds in the little ululation (which I love, because it gives me an excuse to use the word "ululation.")

Ladysmith Black Mambazo always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When Henry was born my parents bought me a collection of world lullabies to play for him. In that first week, when I nursed all day and night and Henry never seemed to sleep, I listened to it over and over and over. This song was my favorite:

Be Still My Child (Album Version)

Friday Flashback: New glasses, old band nerds

Ohhh, week, you elusive little booger, where did you go? Here we are at Friday again. And almost the end of February!

Fridays are now Flashback Fridays at Tarababble, because I need some regular features, and I like alliteration.

I'm modeling the idea on a feature that lots of newspapers run, looking back at the headlines at certain points in the past. The idea is to dig up some fun stories otherwise lost to time (but not lost to Facebook Timeline!), and maybe get you reflecting a bit on points past, too. Let's hope it's fun, shall we?

----

One Day Ago Today: I am the purchaser of new glasses! Present glasses have a nasty scratch and are missing most of an earpiece and also the world has become a little blurry through them, so it was time. I tried on all the Super Awesome Hip glasses and bought the least hip. My face just can't take hip. When I wear thick frames I look like I belong in a old yearbook. Not doing something awesome like A/V Club or ham radio, though. I'm that kid who wandered through the background of someone else's scene and has the hem of my pants tucked into my socks.

One Week Ago Today: Was ... a Friday ... aaaaand that's all I've got.

One Month Ago Today: Henry's third birthday was imminent. I spent most of the day painstakingly making handmade cupcakes in the shapes of Cars characters, inspired by a recipe I saw on Pinterest ... hahahahha, no. I did eat some frosting out of a can, though.

Abundance

I like to think I’m a grocery store Jedi – able to get in and out with a maximum amount of nutritious, tasty food for a minimum bill, all while talking myself out of the expensive junk food I so desire. (These are not the Pop Tarts you are looking for …)

During this week’s grocery trip, though, I decided to look for something at the store I hadn’t before: empty shelves.

You can probably guess that I didn’t find any. No sold-out items, or even waning ones. My cheese was one of scores of blocks. My milk was surrounded by dozens of identical gallons. Even the less common items – this week it was maaagical Odwalla bars, to fill my need as a nursing mother for massive amounts of food all day long – were sold in boxes and stacks and piles.

The store had an abundance of everything.

Here is what got me thinking about this:

Yayyyy fuzzy cell phone picture!

Yup, that’s a table full of bread. It’s in the lobby of my church, which runs a food pantry. Last week, that table was one of four holding breads, rolls, cookies, pastries, and cakes that we ran out of room for on the four big shelves in the food pantry itself.

Pretties!

Look! Tarababble has a new design!

I had planned on writing an actual blog post today, but the limits of naptime dictate one thing at a time! (And for as simple as this is, you'd be surprised how long it took me ... sigh. Thank goodness for this place: http://makincuteblogs.com/ )

Anyway, if you're an old reader, thanks for coming and looking at the new pretties. If you're new, cruise around and check it out!

~Tara :)

Boldly Go, Vandals

The Idaho State Board of Education made a wildly unpopular decision yesterday to yank the word “flagship” out of the University of Idaho’s mission statement, as proposed by Boise State alumnus and SBOE member Milford Terrell.

The move is obviously political – a way to stroke the quivering egos of the Bronco crowd, who are dang good at celebrating the big Whatever Bowl win, but less able to quit pouting that the UI just straight-up shuts them down at academic pursuits.

But – what’s done is done. The real question now is what we do next. If we’re not Idaho’s flagship university anymore, what the heck should we be?

Here’s my proposal:

(Are you ready for this? Cause it’s awesome. And it was actually Tim’s idea, but I’m expanding on it and he doesn’t have a blog, so whatever. Annnnyway – awesome time …)

The starship university.

Heck. Yeah.

I Choo-Choo-Choose You!

When I was 9 years old, I spent hours the weekend before Valentine’s Day creating a pile of cards for my classmates with construction paper, markers, and Looney Tunes stickers.

The effort was out of creative impulse and a love for Bugs Bunny, sure. But mostly it was out of pure terror.

See, at some point in my childhood I’d seen a Simpsons episode called “I Love Lisa.” In it, Lisa Simpson feels guilty that her classmate Ralph hasn’t received any Valentines and drops into his bag one with the slogan “I Choo Choo Choose You.”

Ralph takes the message to heart, and soon the entire school thinks Lisa is in love with the crayon-eating kid known for quips like “Yay, sleep! That’s where I’m a Viking!” and “My cat’s breath smells like cat food!”

To little fourth-grade me, that sounded like the worst humiliation possible. I had to take every precaution, lest some slimy boy think I was in love him. Didn’t matter if he was a crayon-eater or a cool kid – I wasn’t socially functional enough for any of it. (Fourth-grade Tara spent a lot of time writing elaborate stories about aliens. So about the same as now, but with less confidence.)

Rage Against the Blog

I was feeling bloggy (it’s an adjective now!) today, so I polled my Facebook Braintrust for inspiration.

My brother’s suggestion: “I think you should write about that time you punched me for singing that song...is it wrong that it still makes me laugh?”

My brain: “That sounds like something I would have done. Yee-up. Uh-huh. But what the heck song was it? And when? And how could it have been that bad?”

My brother informed that it was the title song for Malcolm in the Middle, They Might BeGiants’ “Boss of Me.”

Ahhh, yes. That one. Thaaaaaat one.

(Is it funny that I kind of want to punch him again for finding it funny that 12 years ago I punched him for singing that song?)

But now that I’ve related that anecdote … what now?

I wish I could just bust something awesome out. But I guess I’m still struggling to figure out what this blog wants to be.