Criss-Cross Applesauce

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June 6, 2008

I am slowly and fearfully approaching that time in my daughter’s life where she needs me less and less. She can brush her own hair, pull on her pants, and join in on a heated and intellectual political discussion. Mind you, she does not do these things well, but she does do them.

Now she eats with a spoon all by herself:

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With very little practice, she has already mastered the ‘dip the spoon into the applesauce, while the other hand is flying high, as if to say, I got this on lock-down’ move.

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After a plentiful scoop of applesauce, the spoon steadily makes its way into her mouth. Berlyn would like to take a small time out to thank all those who supported her, especially her left hand, without which, it all wouldn’t be possible.

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Notice the integral concentration of her deft movements. She has applied so much focus, in fact, that she can’t be bothered with things like cleanliness.

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Multitasking.

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All done!

1 Comment:

Dear Beckey,
I would be ever-so thankful if you please stunt Berlyn’s growth until I get back to California.
Thank you,
Amanda

by Amanda on June 8, 2008

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Meet My Dog Zoey

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June 5, 2008

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Many of you know Zoey. She’s my lovable pug who snores, smells, and gets a little too excited at meal time. But how many of you can you say that you really know Zoey? If the answer is no, don’t worry, I’m going to help you out.

Zoey was born on a day…um I think it was November 16 2004, via c-section. Pugs can’t have a natural birth because they’re weird and their brains might explode and if their brain juices get on your sofa it will burn a hole in it, and if it gets on your skin you’ll die, or something. It’s true, I saw it on the Discovery Channel.

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So she came home with us 3 years ago, after I bombarded my husband with a stream of constant pleas and sexual favors. We named her Zoey, but we hardly ever call her that, it’s far to conventional for our taste. Instead we call her:

Zo Zo Brains

‘Ol Gray Beard

10 Nips (she has 10 nipples; 4 on one side, 6 on the other. Being symmetrical is so not her thing)

Bo Bo Burrito

Sacagawea

She also effectively responds to:

Douche bag

Ass hole

Hooker

and Shit Head

She is the best dog for cuddling, and doesn’t even mind if you squeeze her too tight. She’s always down to lay on your lap, and she’ll even spoon with you. And come on, who doesn’t love to spoon with their smelly, hairy dog?

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2 Comments:

I think our dogs would be friends. Yours is stinky and hyper, and mine is old, fat and deaf. I recently conducted an experiment to test this latter characteristic of hers – I screamed her name repeatedly and banged on the wall next to where she was sleeping. She did not, in fact, respond. I’m thinking of switching my major to Biology because the whole thing went so well. Also I like to say the word “hypothesize.”

by Amanda on June 5, 2008

That second picture of Zoey looking in the store looks like it was taken on Balboa Island. That makes me think of Cinnamon Roll Fair, a bakery on said Island. They make the most delicious cinnamon rolls around…you’ve got to try one next time you’re there. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.

by Eric on June 6, 2008

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Will Someone Please Give This Woman A Mylar Balloon?

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June 3, 2008

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The other night Pat had to work for another hour or so, so I went to sleep. About 45 minutes later I saw his silhouette cross the room and he was holding a mylar balloon. He brought it over to his side of the bed to “hide” it from me, and then went back to work for a couple of minutes. He came to bed a little later and this was our exchange:

Me: Where’s my balloon?

Him: What?

Me: My balloon. Where is it?!

Him: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Me: No, I saw you come in 15 minutes ago carrying a mylar balloon and you put it over there by your side of the bed, where did it go? It was for me, wasn’t it?

Him: Beckey, seriously? I don’t have a balloon, and you’re kinda scaring me a little bit.

Me: Fine. Whatever, but I still want my balloon.

HOLY SHIT!! People I’m hallucinating!!
I could have sworn I saw Pat carrying a balloon for me, what’s scary was that I was totally awake when I was demanding it. I can’t even blame my delusion on being in that weird dream-state where coffee pot hats totally sound like the next great idea. No, I was 100% awake, sitting up and irrationally asking for my balloon.

A tip for my husband: tonight before I fall asleep, please give me a mylar balloon, I’ll really appreciate it.
Thanks.

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2 Comments:

LOL – that’s weird. Instead of a hallucination, however, I’d jump straight to a paranormal explanation. Much more cool and creepy than just being crazy. 😉

by Marketing Mama on June 3, 2008

When I was little that used to happen to me. But instead of Pat, it was my mom and instead of a balloon it was a birthday cake. I would see her put it on my bed and then I would go to pick it up and it was gone. I would always go find her and be so angry that she took it away. I remember it being so real!!! Don’t worry, you’re not crazy…or, maybe we both are.

by Jamye on June 3, 2008

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Lovely Ladies Weekend

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June 2, 2008

I just got back from a vacation last night. A fantastic vacation where I watched my ass gradually get bigger and bigger from the combination of laying around all day and then eating bountiful amounts of whatever the heck I wanted. It was sheer magic.

I left my husband, baby, and Zoloft at home and grabbed my BFF Jenielle and we headed for Palm Springs.

Here’s some stuff we did:

  • laid by the pool
  • went in the pool
  • ate lunch at the pool
  • drank pomegranate daiquiris by the pool
  • and peed in the pool

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After a nice long day of getting well acquainted with the pool, we decided to hit the hay and get plenty of rest for the following day of massages and…wait for it–wait for it…laying by the POOL! So we got all nestled in our beds and we were chatting about our similar distaste for pickles, when I glanced up and saw the world’s most giant bug slowly crawling across the ceiling. I quickly jumped out of my bed and did the creepy-crawly-bug dance. Jenielle joined in and we both freaked out for a good 4 minutes. We called the staff and they sent someone over. Before they arrived we saw the bug again, this time he was on the floor crawling in and out of one of our bags. Jenielle grabbed a glass and I, completely unashamed in my cowardliness, crouched behind her. She swiftly trapped the bug under the glass and we did the victory creepy-crawly-bug dance, which looked a lot like the regular creepy-crawly-bug dance, but with sounds of joy mixed in with the sounds complete horror and disgust.

Then the staff security guy came, who was maybe 19, and when he saw the bug he enthusiastically proclaimed, “that’s a roach! And you guys chopped his head off, AWESOME!!”

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Needless to say, we didn’t sleep well that night, I kept having these Kafka-esque dreams that I was a giant roach, and someone had decapitated my head with a glass. I’m not kidding people, that cockroach was the size of small child! And I’m sure, if we Jenielle didn’t kill it, it would have eaten us alive. UCK!

1 Comment:

Thanks for another daily smile. I love your blog.

by melinda on June 2, 2008

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