Oct
12
October 12, 2006
I am disturbed by how quickly the weeks fly by; I feel like this is an eye-rollingly banal observation I’ve made at least four hundred and fifty-seven thousand times in this journal alone, but, you know: whoah, time keeps on slippin, slippin. Into the future, man.
Also, I have clearly created this particular problem for myself, but posting to four separate blogs (this one here, and that one there, and that parenting-related one, and Workplace’s blog, and jesus christ I am sick of the word “blog” and yet I’m actually considering attending this conference for work-related reasons which will be like bathing in a rich creamy soup of BLOOOOG) sometimes feels like…hmm, what’s the word for rolling a big rock up a hill throughout eternity? Sinbad? Sassafras?
It does seem like there are never-ending deadlines to consider, especially as I try and get posts lined up in advance so I’m not tempted to spend my limited office time doing personal work – not really even an option as the January Macworld Expo shuffles closer and I have to devote entire cobwebbed sections of my brain to planning out Workplace’s corporate presence, did you know renting a trash can at the Moscone costs, like, forty hojillion dollars? – but I am enjoying the work, I’m enjoying the fact that I’m forced to keep writing, even if I feel like I have nothing to say.
There are times when I wish I had a few more diverse hobbies, because some days I come home from my work day, which is spent almost without exception in front of a computer, to power-bonding with Riley for a few hours, then once he’s in bed I’m right back in front of a glowing screen. I think a lot about how I hope Riley will be a kid who prefers playing outside to the lure of the Xbox or fucking MySpace or whatever when he’s older and how we as parents aren’t exactly providing a stellar example in that department quite yet.
It’s really all about balance, just like everything is, but it’s a relatively new sensation for me to wish there were more hours in each day, so I can fit in everything I want to do. I used to think in terms of killing time. I don’t anymore. For this, I’m glad.
:::
Lately Riley has been making these very distinct sounds whenever we put on his shoes or our own shoes. Or even if he crawls past some shoes lying on the floor. He says “Ba ba! Ba ba!” and while “ba” and “da” and “pa” are basically top of the pops on Riley’s lexicon hit parade right now and can be substituted for almost every word in the English language including pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism, these are deliberate sounds he says the same way each time.
I theorized at first that he was saying “backpack”, like, it’s time to put on our shoes and go for a walk in the backpack, but he says “ba pa” for backpack, not “ba ba”. Next I thought he was saying “bye bye”, like, it’s time to put it in B for boogie and get the hell out of here, but no, he says “beh bah” for “bye bye”. So: shoes = “ba ba”. Why? No one knows. It is a mystery! Sort of like how a human that weighs less than 25 pounds can produce a sound equal to that of a Boeing 747 jet engine.
Comments
-
My product review site:
[
The “ba ba” is Riley imitating the sounds of your footsteps. Thus, “ba ba” equals your shoes, in motion. Do you not see that your own child is some sort of genius!
first comment? maybe? gotta try for it anyway.
at least people enjoy reading your blog and it’ll be nice for riley later on in life to look back on too. keep that in mind when you think of the stresses of it!
sisyphus was the myth
I thought of you and your little suctopus when I saw these: http://www.elsewares.com/commerce/Recycled-Socktopus_MPD558.html
Adorable, no? I totally want to argyle one.
Er, maybe I want THE argyle one, since I don’t know how one would go about argyling something.
I can see how blogging could quickly become a chore rather than a hobby (Gawd, who says “hobby” anymore?!), especially since you sort of are required to write in the ClubMom one, at the very least. Maybe the workplace one too. I don’t think I could deal with that and writing in a personal one…. Even with just the personal one, anytime I feel like I *have* to write in it (whether by request, or simply because it’s been too long) I will completely avoid it. It’s something I do for fun, and to express some creativity since, er, being a chemistry major and a retail monkey does not exactly fulfill one’s creative side. Anytime it feels like a chore, I drop it… until I hunger for it’s sweet bloggy flesh once more.
Speaking of which, I have four teensy notebook pages on John Mayer that I wrote at work a week ago… I should go ahead and just post it.
I really enjoy your blogs, all of them. Obviously, as I’ve been reading you regularily lo these… what? 4 years? Wow. That’s pretty fucking crazy. All the way back to diaryland!
My oldest used to say “saa saa” for cat and “nanu” for his brother’s name (which doesn’t even have an ‘N’ in it). And everytime I see pics of you and the family out hiking and geocaching and stuff I scold myself for not taking my kids outside more (even though they are both outside as I type this) so please don’t worry about the Great Outdoors vs. Xbox just yet. BTW, both boys speak just fine now so again, worry not.
Dude…great minds think alike. I used those exact words of time keeps on slippin, slippin. Into the future (with out the whoa & man-because I can’t pull that off) as a headline yesterday.
I’m somewhat ashamed to recall all the things I was adamant about doing or not doing once I had my child. I also thought that using the television as a distraction (babysitter) was a horrible thing to do until I realized that that was quite possibly the only way I was going to get a shower that day or do some other unpleasant but necessary task.
Your own bad habits become so painfully obvious when you think of passing them down to your children. I don’t want him to sit around, watch tv, play video games, surf the web, drink sugary sodas, eat junk food or be unhealthy and overweight either. But it’s exactly what his father and I do and are.
You nailed it, though. It’s all about balance. And it’s a bitch to find, I’m thinking.
Oh yeah, and when you figure out what all those ‘ba, pa, bahs’, etc, etc mean, you be sure to let me know, because I haven’t a clue either.
Yeah, mine cheerfully says “ya ya!” whenever we’re waving goodbye to someone. We’ve worked so hard on “Bye Bye!” And he makes the “b” sound all the time. So what’s the damn problem already? Where does “ya ya” come from?
I count it as a word anyway, when the doctor asks.
Ah, sometimes the comments are as funny as the entry. :) You parental units make me wonder how nuts I must have driven my parents. My mom says I didnt’ say a single thing until I was 18 months old. They even took me to a specialist to see if there was something wrong with me. Then, she says, suddenly at 18 months old, I started talking, and they could not shut me up…which has pretty much held true most of my life. Since I don’t get to be a mom, I really enjoy reading your entries, Sundry, dear. They’re damned funny and touching and well-written and just fanfrickingtastic. I don’t know how you do 4 of them, all of kickass quality. But I’m glad you do!
Ami used to be the word for airplane. I was so sad the day he stopped saying it too. Also, James (Thomas trains) was Nops. No clue where that came from. Almost cried the day he stopped saying it (so did my babysitter’s son who was named James too).
The only funny word we have left right now is Nain (Train)… and that’s just not as cute as Ami and Nops.
Ditto what Katie said, re blog. You mama’s are amazing, don’t know how you balance work and baby, let alone blogging.
Something I forgot….my son loves Thomas the Train. I would continually have that little diddy in my head and sing to him ‘do do do do do dodo…’ the song from the show. While we were in the toy aisle one day he started going ‘dodo…doo…do…doo’ and pointing at a Thomas in a sing-song voice. I’d inadvertantly taught my child the song rather than the name of the damn train. Every time he sees Thomas now, he does that.
Also, he’ll be two in January and my doctor says she wants him to go to a specialist if he’s not talking more. His father didn’t talk until he was over 2. Really talk, anyway. I’m not too concerned just yet. If he ends up talking like he babbles, he’ll never stop once he does start.
you’re making me twitch with the tradeshow talk. God, the amount of time and money I spent back in the day figuring out things like hotel rooms, booth breakdown and my personal favorite, booth duty (“But I’m meeting with customers then, oh no!” “But NO ONE IS IN THE BOOTH TO GIVE DEMOS”) and so on.
As for “whoah, time keeps on slippin, slippin. Into the future, man.”: I went to a Steve Miller Band concert this summer (free tickets and aging hippies to watch make any concert worth going to) and he played that song in an extended version that went on for, I swear, 15 minutes, and I couldn’t get it out of my head for weeks. I even dreamed about it. Now I’m going to go use my ipod, which thankfully does not contain that song, in order to avoid that ear worm.
My sister called me “La-La” (for Angela). That nickname has stuck — now my newphews and niece call me that.
“It is a mystery!”- that made me giggle out loud.
If you didn’t blog I wouldn’t have anything to waste my time while my daughter’s in the playpen playing! Oh wait, is she whining? Naw, she’s playing. Yeah….. she’s playing.
I have a myspace and I play video games and I eat completely unhealthily (sp?). Am I worried about my daughter doing the same? Not quite. That whole “only in moderation” thing really is lovely. And though I would hate to tell my child to get off those darn games, much like my own mother did, if I have to I suppose I will. But hopefully since my fiance and I both like playing them, it would be more like bonding time than just wasted time. As for the food….. I really need to start eating better before she can tell what’s going on. -.-
Yeah, for the longest time I called my older sister “Deet.” Her name is Nicci. Who knows? I spent a long weekend with my friend’s little girl, and you really can eventually tell the difference between “ba” = blanket, “BA” = baby doll, and “baaa” = your wallet. Though “Daddy/baby juice” (Big/little cup of juice) comes out perfectly clear. I think she’s got us trained.
maybe it’s morse code. like–2 short ba’s is shoes. maybe 2 long ba’s is something else & one short ba & one long ba is yet another thing.
heh. that might be going out on a limb. : )
Hey, this may not really be the point of your entry, but in the interest of saving your eyesight, be sure to look away from that glowing screen often! I’m positive that it’s not merely “growing older” that has caused my eyesight to swifly plummet downhill in the past 9 years (since work has become 100% on-computer as well as school and home and evenings consumed with hobbies, letters etc all online).
Anyway, I’m sure you do this, but keep on doing it: focus away from the screen often! Look out the window or far far across the room every 20 minutes!
I only got reading glasses about 5 years ago… still resisting the whole “bifocals” trip – ow! ow!
Google is the best search engine