I've got my hands full

Time for more pictures, and I think these show what a charming little girl I'm raising :)

Okay, funny thing about these first two is that while, yes, I own a yoga ball, I've never actually used it as such. It was free from my health insurer, but I found it very confusing. Abbey quickly dubbed it Big Ball and has pretty much just rolled it around the house and tried to throw it and asked me to bounce her on it. So how she figured out the following stance eludes me.

Yoga1
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Yoga2
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

And here, we have the Fairy Princess, complete with wings you can't see in this picture. The streamers are extra, and of course, a red bobble hat is much better than a tiara. I personally like how well she's ignoring Dick Cheney in the background (I believe this is about the time he shot up his poor hunting buddy).

Fairy1
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Fairy2
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Ah, parenthood, what fun. Especially when all bodily fluids are back in their proper places.

On a completely unrelated note, I thought I'd share about an interesting beverage I've discovered (a pleasant surprise, rather than a negative one). IZZE is a very tasty fruit juice and sparkling water combination. I picked up the pomegrante and was pleasantly surprised, though $5 for four bottles is quite steep. Harris Teeter also had clementine (the world's best citrus fruit), blueberry and blackberry. Yum. I highly recommend it for a guilt-free splurge.

Round 2

Geez, now Brad. Funny, I don't remember studying to be a nurse.

That's enough, thanks

This has been such a pleasant week. Sunday night, Abigail came over to me wimpering, just wanting to be held. A few minutes later, I received my first shower of most definitely not water. Ick. Ick. Ick. Rotavirus (follow link only if you have a strong stomach) is finally abating from my little one. While I can't imagine what the poor thing has been going through -- especially since she'd never thrown up before and was very disturbed by it -- this is a most unpleasant disease to watch. A week after seeing my child just about out run my mom's 10-year-old neighbor after 15 minutes of laps around the house, she has spend the past three-plus days lying limp on the floor watching PBS. She even watched "Mister Rogers," she was that listless. But thankfully, the bizarre little stories about potato chips being doors and sandwiches mountains and so forth have returned and Abbey's even been laughing. God bless the makers of Pedialyte.

Movement on my stodgy stack

You may have noticed an alarming trend on this self-described booklover's blog: the same book listed as what I'm reading for months. Sad but true, "Cloud Atlas" by David Mitchell languished on my bedside table for far too long. I read the first chapter, "The Pacific Journal of Adam Ewing," back in at least December and found it mildly interesting but not really my thing. I glanced quickly at the second chapter, "Letters from Zedelghem," and wasn't enthusiastic about devouring the book. (Each chapter ends unfinished.) I don't do well reading journals and letters for some reason; I just don't find them as compelling as dialog and straightforward plot development. So the poor book sat there until after the New Year. I finally got into "Letters" and was more entertained, certainly impressed with Mitchell's ability to create such different, convincing voices. Chapter three, "Half Lives," completely sucked me in, but I was alarmed when the chapter cut off right after a character's death. Wait, I was really interested! What happened next?! How annoying! I flipped to the next chapter, "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish," and wasn't sure if I wanted to start right in. I kept flipping. Chapter five, "An Orison of Sonmi-451." Chapter six, "Sloosha's Crossin' An' Ev'rythin' After." Chapter seven, "Orison of Sonmi-451." Hold on, they repeat?! This book is a wonderful double helix, twisting back on itself and continuing the interrupted stories?! God bless the postmodernists and they're unconventional novel forms! If only I'd noticed this right away, I would've gobbled it up!

Needless to say, I now adore this book. Each chapter flirts with the earlier ones, touching on recurring themes and sights, even people. Mitchell is truly amazing with characterization and absolutely master's each genre. He's also a hell of a lot better than Joyce at writing in dialect with invented words, proving a point, and still actually being entertaining and LEGIBLE. (Bad English major!) I highly recommend this book if you're a fan of postmodernism or even just fabulous fiction. Smitty, give it a try. A., you'd love it.

Far from stodgy stacks

At my alma mater, the library was a nightmarish example of bad '70s architecture. Even worse, the English and French literature were buried, literally, on the second-to-lowest floor underground. Worn, mottled red industrial carpeting combined with that dank subterranian feeling to give an overall icky feeling. I didn't voluntarily spend much free time there.

However, I would gladly spend scads of free time in the Parisian libraries. Be sure to watch the multimedia slideshow and look for the Biblioteque Ste.-Genevieve. Gorgeous. Add these to my list of new things to do in Paris whenever I finally get back over there.

On a side note, I'll be trotting off the the lovely Florida Panhandle tomorrow, so I'll probably be silent for another week. I'm looking forward to a good dose of mothering and shopping and warm weather, but thanks to my sinus infection, I'm not looking forward to the actual travel with Abigail. At least she's ecstatic about getting to fly in an airplane. Almost as good as Christmas.

At-home relaxation -- POP!

You might think that this post would be about the nice massage I had yesterday. Quite relaxing, though using an unusual, um, shaking technique?

No, this relaxation method is even more affordable. Step one: buy 10 feet of bubble wrap, the large bubble variety. (Or purchase something online and wait for it to be delivered) Step two: unfurl the wrap and lay it like a red carpet through your living room. Step three: walk slowly down the wrap, letting your body weight shift from side to side. You get the stress relief of the popping mixed with the nifty massage on your feet and the plain old childish joy of bubble wrap. For a moderate aerobic workout, consider swapping step three with playing tag with a 3-year-old. I have a feeling that will be reprised after naptime.

Damn that radio song, man

A friend and I were talking about music yesterday, specifically what we listened to at different points in our lives. This was a particularly interesting conversation considering were we also talking with a friend who's about a decade older than us and remembered being big into Blondie. A. was talking about who had what CDs on her freshman-year hall (circa 1994), and while I liked the music she mentioned, they weren't the CDs I had -- or at least weren't in heavy rotation at the time. Of course, my mind then went crazy thinking about what CDs I liked then and images that I associated with specific songs, keeping me well occupied on my trip back home from north Charlotte. So I thought I'd spead the discussion to you lovely readers. What were you listening to your freshman year of college? And it certainly doesn't have to be just popular music -- hint, hint, Smitty with your Philip Glass and Rambling Speech with your "Yente" soundtrack. I'd be especially interested in hearing from the Dunces and my mom -- I know you figured out how to comment at least once!

To get things started, my favorite CDs in 1995:

• Barenaked Ladies, "Maybe You Should Drive" -- Heard them live on WYEP in high school and thought they were hilarious -- you've gotta love the Canadian "sorry"; favorite tracks: "Jane", "You Will Be Waiting" and "Little Tiny Song"


• Better Than Ezra, "Deluxe" -- Very vivid associations with "This Time of Year" and that autumn, both doing homework in the dorm and walking around campus


• Blue Traveler, "Four" -- I adored "Just Wait" and "The Mountains Win Again"


• Dave Matthews Band, "Under the Table and Dreaming" -- especially "Satelite" and "Lover Lay Down," which I associate with Pensacola Beach, for some reason


• Jump, Little Children, "Licorice Tea Demos" -- I think I've covered this


• REM, "Green," "Document" and "Automatic For the People" -- I'm pretty sure they still would have been in rotation given I saw them in concert the day after graduation


• They Might Be Giants, "John Henry" and "Flood" -- Knew Rambling Speech and I would be friends when I heard "Flood" start up in the room next door


• Weezer, "Weezer" -- I taped this from my roommate shortly after arriving on campus and always had it on in the car; loved "The Sweater Song"

Probably not a comprehensive list. Sadly short on female singers, though they featured more prominantly in high school and later college -- Tori Amos, 10,000 Maniacs and Natalie Merchant, Fiona Apple, Sarah McLaughlin, Jewel. At least this list isn't embarassing like a junior high list would be -- I'll 'fess up to Boyz II Men since a. admitted to Paula Abdul!

Later addendum:
As I got in my car to drive to Spanish class, I remembered another frequently listened-to group: Rusted Root, "When I Woke." I also heard them on WYEP -- a hippie, world music band from western Pennsylvania? -- and taped it off someone in college. Perhaps Smitty, since I recall him exuberantly saying, "Simians, away!" I listened to this a lot in the car, though really, it makes no sense for me. The music doesn't match anything else I ever listened to, and I'd stick out like a giant, preppy thumb at a concert. But it's so much fun to listen to, even if I have no idea what the lead singer is saying!

Slightly unsettling

frosty
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

What might this be? A strange cult practice, perhaps associated with the Flying Spaghetti Monster? A large purple alien landing on another planet with the local inhabitants unable to restrain their curiosity? A message from an ancient people, akin to Stonehenge?

Or perhaps just my daughter's perpetual fascination with "Frosty the Snowman", in particular with recreating the scene where Frosty is first built, receives his magic hat and announces, "Happy birthday!" (Seen here, the bathtub version) This same formation has occured with stuffed animals, Little People, even food. It's like every day is Christmas -- or at least a poorly animated 1960s TV special version of it.

The hilarity continues

Okay, this guy has a site of all KINDS of ironic commentary! Wheeee, who needs housework?!

Weapons of mass congelation

You know, most food products never really need to congeal. That's even an upleasant word to say. Now, I am okay with plain old Jell-O, Jell-O fruit salads and even jigglers. Adding bananas, pineapple, etc. or even mini marshmallows or cream cheese, all fine within reason. That really yummy pie my mom makes with Jell-O and CoolWhip, none of which may actually be able to be classified as food, that's just wonderful. But there are many congealed things that are simply wrong: aspic, Jell-O salad not of the fruit variety -- don't offer me lime Jell-O with grated carrots, call it Congealed Salad and try to convince me it's a vegetable -- and dishes including the following ingredients: olives, kidney beans, hot dogs, corned beef, and I have no earthly idea.

Making regrettable gasping, dorky noises of laughter

Oh. my. god. And, yes, I must be that Valley Girl about it. This site is HYSTERICAL. If you don't at least find it mildly amusing, I obviously don't know you, so you should go away and stop reading about my family! Thanks, a., I knew you needed a blog.

Today brought to you by chocolate

Though of course, I doubt I'll be getting any of the heavenly dark stuff today, for which I thank my husband. But wow, chocolate. I love chocolate. Dark chocolate, please, and none of that Hershey crap. I love chocolate so much that it actually prompted me to read the Business page today in The Charlotte Observer. Apparently there's a new franchise hitting the streets: chocolate cafes. Get together with your girlfriends for truffles or fondue or just gourmet chocolate in a coffeehouse setting, how fabulous! My "bible study" group would have a field day! "Dead Sea Scrolls, yadda, yadda -- ooh, try this hazelnut-creme filled, triple-chocolate dipped truffle!!" Between discussions about food and babies, there's precious little said about religion sometimes ...

And speaking of a fellow chocaholic classmate, tumnus is now Coffee and Drivel on a much happier Blogger site. Two posts in a week, it's encouraging!

The dark mind of journalism

Okay, does it make me severely dark and twisted that I find it absolutely hysterical that Dick Cheney just accidentally shot his hunting buddy? I feel awful for the guy, hope he fully recovers, but I'm sorry, it makes me laugh.

A new convert

Everyone, say hello to tumnus. Otherwise known as the mysterious a., I'm publicizing her debut to coerce her into posting lots! Now that we're both officially stay-home mommies again (or will be as of 10 tonight), maybe we can get some fabulously deep discusions going about the nature of motherhood and womanhood and chocolate-adict-hood.

Mini Me

Abigail glasses
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

Sometimes, no matter how hard you swim, there's no escaping the gene pool. No only did Abigail have her mommy's history working against her, but also being preemie made her almost guaranteed to have glasses. But isn't she cute?

Invasion of the body snatchers, ya'll

Okay, whoever has my child, I'd like her back. Abigail woke up today magically speaking Hick. Seriously, she sounds like she's from Pelzer, or the lovely hamlet of Sharon here in York County (pronounced Shay-run). She's been saying thay-ut (that) and bay-uth (bath) and hay-ouse (house) and hey-ulp (help). It's really strange. Brad has a Southern accent, but nothing stronger than saying bol and ol for boil and oil. His mother's fairly country, but not too bad. One of her preschool teachers has an average Rock Hill accent, and the other's from Charleston. Where is this coming from? And why over night? Yesterday, she was wearing a hat. Today, a hay-ut. And six months ago, she sounded like she was from Long Island. Maybe this means she'll be good with languages and accents like her mommy.

Okay, one more for today

One her way upstairs for her nap today, Abigail said, "Eating makes me happy. And life makes me happy." What a fabulous philosophy!

And for more in the kids-say-the-darnedest-things category, a few weeks ago, Abigail was getting into something she wasn't supposed to, and Brad told her to stop. Her response? "Oh, Daddy, you're being over-sensative this morning." That's a paraphrase of one of her Berenstain Bear books, but still, how did she think of that?!

Like new

Another oddity that I saw yesterday at Winthrop: A for sale flier on a hallway bulletin board. "That's not unusual," you say. Yes, colleges are papered with "Roomate needed" or "Books for sale" or "Summer work opportunity" which winds up being door-to-door selling knives, but this one was unique. Honestly, it might not have been too out of place in certain buildings at Clemson, but not in the language and math building at Winthrop: A John Deere tractor.

Can you hear me now?

Okay, I'm supposed to be cleaning a bathroom and buying a new car battery, but I want to get this down before I forget because it was such an interesting moment to observe.

I was walking to my Spanish class yesterday, crossing the commuter parking lot, when I heard a girl across the aisle from me talking on her cell phone. She told the listener where she was, and then started to offer advice on how to lessen the severity of a cold. I wasn't really listening, it was just a plug for Zicam. Actually, I was lusting after her sweater. Ah, it was fabulous. Dark charcoal torso and turtleneck, with dusty pink arms down to just below the elbow, where there were multicolored stripes the rest of the way. I need that sweater. Even more than I need the Twister purse some girl carries that has a class near mine. But I digress. Anyway, just as I rounded a car a few steps behind her, I saw her chatting away and midsentence flip the phone closed, look at the girl on the sidewalk, who simulaneously flipped her phone closed, and continue her conversation without missing a beat. It was amazing choreography. Of course, why they needed a 1 minute conversation on a cell phone rather than just meeting up is a bit of a mystery, but it was amazing to witness.

It was also a bit sad, though. When I walk around campus, all the kiddies are on their cell phone or have iPods in their ears. I can't help but think of the Seashells in Farenheit 451. Very, very few people are talking to each other. I'm surprised the girls I saw didn't keep talking on their phones as they walked together. Back in the dark ages of my undergrad experience, we actually talked to our friends or just THOUGHT as we walked. And all the interesting overheard conversations these people are missing out on. I remember walking in front of Cooper Library one day with one of you lovely readers, though I don't remember who, and we were behind two frat boys who aparently learned their rhetorical skills from the Smurfs. "Man, that f*er has the best f*ing s*it I've f*ing seen. F*. It's f*ing great. I'm not f*ing kidding. F*itty f*itty f* f* ..." And more to that effect. I think these two fine scholars then turned into the library, at which time my friend and I burst into hysterics. And today's college kids are missing such comedy.

Chewandswallow

There is a new favorite book at the Williams' household: "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." While the repetition can get a bit wearying, there is simply no better children's book than this. The drawings are fabulous, and you have to love a book that teaches kids absurd humor. I loved this book as a kid, and when we first cracked it open for Abigail a few weeks ago, the pictures brought back so many memories! Baseball players snacking on pie, a mother running from giant doughnuts, a man lying squished under a huge hamburger, the houses made out of stale bread at the end ... Every child needs to learn very early on about irony. Hopefully we're on the successful path of instilling the proper appreciation of humor so she can later enjoy "The Princess Bride" and "Monty Python." Every mother's dream.

And aparently there's a sequel! Any one ever read "Pickles to Pittsburgh"? Based on the name alone, I'm intrigued.