Can you believe November is over?
Writing every day wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. But don’t bet the farm that you’ll see a post from me tomorrow.
Thanks for reading.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: Wide Open Spaces : Dixie Chicks
The Girls
A memoir-style novel about a pair of conjoined twins. Proves that an interesting premise doesn’t always mean the story will be any good.
Cold Mountain
My friends who read this romantic yarn about a Confederate deserter’s journey back home didn’t like it, but they read it when it was at the height of its hype. My advice: wait to read books when they’ve gone out of fashion and you have no expectations. I loved Frazier’s writing, and the story is a good one.
Fargo Rock City
My reading pleasure was enhanced by being almost exactly the same age and from the same kind of town as the author of this book. Also, it helped that I still listen to Def Leppard.
Theo and his dad went out to get some Chinese food for our dinner, so I’m writing in blissful quiet. Our little pterodactyl has recommenced his dinosaur screech during the past few weeks and, frankly, it’s giving me a headache.
Also giving me a headache is the aftermath of my visit to the dentist this afternoon. The hygienist cleaned my teeth for an entire hour and I hate to tell you this but it was sort of gory. Do beer and bratwurst cause plaque to multiply exponentially or is it just another example of German thoroughness? I think I might even start flossing just to avoid the bloodbath next time. (Wait, isn’t that almost exactly what I said last time?)
Speaking of (no, not bloodbaths) dental hygiene, I bought a weird little baby toothbrush for Theo earlier this week. It has about twelve rubber bristles and I guess I’m supposed to rub it across his little teeth after he eats. So far I can’t even get the package open. That, combined with my bad example, does not bode well for his future dental health.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: Uncle Scott and Auntie Kerri’s Christmas Mix
I’ve been tagged for a meme! Which is a good thing because otherwise you would be reading a post about the weather or what I ate for dinner or something, and nobody wants that.
1. Post five links to five of your previously written posts, relating each to the key words family, friends, yourself, your love and anything you like.
2. Tag five other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least two new acquaintances (if not, your current blog buddies will do) so that you get to know them each a little bit better.
3. Don’t forget to read the archived post and leave comments.
Family: Sibling Rivalry
Friends: This one is rated R
It’s not really ABOUT my friends, but it was from my friend Daniela and it will give you a laugh.
Jeff: Jeff as Wayne Gretzky
Myself: Tricky Questions
Anything I Like: When country wasn’t cool
I hate to say I told her so.
I’m not going to tag anyone because I’m trying to work on being less of a rule-follower. This is a rebellious act. I dare the blog police to come and find me.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: X&Y : Coldplay
Dear Chuck Klosterman,
I tried to find your email address so I could send this letter directly to you, but I’m going to post it here instead. I imagine you’ve tracked down all the thirty-something bloggers from small towns like yours and that I’ll receive a comment from you soon (fingers crossed).
I’m 2/3 through your first book, Fargo Rock City. This is problematic because my master’s degree thesis is due in just two weeks, but I can’t seem to stop reading your social commentary about small town America in the 1980’s as it relates to heavy metal bands. While my thesis topic does relate to small town America, it does not include an analysis of power ballads, so reading your book doesn’t really count as research.
You seem like a cool guy who might do me a favor. Well, actually you seem cool now because you have published four books and write for Esquire. You probably were one of the kids in school who initially scared me with his long mullet and Iron Maiden t-shirt (DEVIL MUSIC said my Young Life leaders). But eventually I sat next to you in World History and realized you were hilarious, even though I was surprised you spoke to me in the first place considering how much Duran Duran and George Michael I listened to at that point. So yeah, you’re a nice guy. Could you call my thesis advisor and let him know my thesis will be late? And that it’s your fault?
Because I guess living in a small town meant that I absorbed waaaay more metal music than I intended to. It was probably some kind of backward incantation by Nikki Sixx that caused me to memorize all the lyrics to “Lick It Up” and “Crazy Train.” Or maybe I accidentally watched a few episodes of Headbangers’ Ball.
Anyway, thanks for writing such a kickass book. I really appreciate your ironic use of umlauts in the subtitle, especially now that I live in Germany and know what an umlaut is supposed to do. And I’m blaming you if I never get my master’s degree.
Sincerely,
Blythe
PS
This is still killing me (P. 21):
“Listening to Clapton is like getting a sensual massage from a woman you’ve loved for the past ten years; listening to Van Halen is like having the best sex of your life with three foxy nursing students you met at a Tastee Freez.” Yeah, we used to have a Tastee Freez in my town too.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: Cross Roads : Bon Jovi
We’ve already had one of those evenings where we wondered when Alan Funt was going to emerge from the bathroom closet.
Jeff arrived home at 6:30pm and by 6:45 all three of us were covered in the remnants of a dirty diaper, bath water, and salty tears. It wasn’t anything particularly horrible, just a bad blowout and a baby who was tired and naked and cold and decided he was terrified of the bathtub faucet and therefore must wail and weep and pee all over his parents. Dinner was sizzling in a pan on the stove and the dryer was beeping too. There really wasn’t much to do except laugh and mop up the various puddles.
Now, an hour later, our bellies are full (homemade hummus and grilled lamb pitas, yum), the baby is asleep, we’ve had a wardrobe change, and peace has been restored.
I think I might be in bed by 8:30.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: The Best That I Could Do : John Mellencamp
We are not decorating for Christmas this year. We left the decorations, including the wonderful handmade wooden nativity set we bought last year on Christmas Eve, in the attic. Instead, I plan to bury all three of us in baked goods in honor of the Christmas season. I will post photos of my treats next month if we don’t eat everything immediately.
OK, I couldn’t resist buying a poinsettia at the grocery store on Friday. But it will probably be buried in the baked goods eventually too.
Jeff took Thanksgiving off work. After my book group lunch when our new Thursday afternoon babysitter arrived, the two of us headed out for an afternoon of relaxation at a new nearby indoor water park. We decided to splash (ha!) out for access to the SaunaLand in addition to the water slides and current pool and jet pools that we’d tried before with Theo in tow.
This explains how I found myself on Thanksgiving day wrapped in a towel, eating a soft pretzel, sitting in a bar with a two-story view of naked Germans walking around in the freezing weather between outdoor sauna buildings. The facility is beautiful and houses a bunch of small indoor sauna rooms including one in which aroma is pumped on a changing hourly schedule, plus a series of sauna huts in an adjoining yard. After an hour riding the waterslides (strobe lights! inntertubes!), floating in the whirlpools, and paddling around in the steamy outdoor pool, we both could have used a half hour of pineapple-flavored warmth. Instead, we sat around on the benches outside the sauna rooms with our towels cinched tightly around us, soaking our feet in little basins and trying not to make eye contact with anyone, especially each other, as people dropped their robes and strolled around the room. Finally we realized we would never get over our ingrained American giggle reflex and we’d better get out of there. So we went upstairs, ordered pretzels, and realized when we looked out the window that we could not escape the skin display.
I have no problem with public nudity in theory, in fact the whole experience led me to realize how much more realistic American body image would be if we were used to seeing regular people’s naked bodies more often. We grow up seeing movie stars and models and other teenagers in gym class naked, but I can tell you with great certainty that those bodies bear no resemblance to the average fifty-year-old. And I admire the idea that the human body is just normal and everybody has one and blah blah blah.
However, there was no way anyone was going to talk me into peeling off my bathing suit and entering a sauna room with three old, nude strangers. It didn’t matter how nice it smelled in there.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: Slave4U : Britney Spears
My international women’s book group shares a Thanksgiving meal each year. It’s such a nice way to mark the day that isn’t a holiday around here. We ate turkey and mashed potatoes made by Americans, veggies by a Romanian and a Filipina, soup by a Colombian, sweet potatoes and stuffing by Germans, and trifle by an Englishwoman for dessert.
(see photos of the lovely ladies below)
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: 80’s Hits Stripped : Various Artists
Lately, when I sneak in to check on Theo before I turn in for the night, I’ve noticed that he is usually lying at the same end of the crib where Jeff put him down to sleep. It signifies for me that he’s growing up a little. When he first learned to roll over and then to scoot around, I would find him at the far end from where he started, sometimes with his little feet in their footed pajamas sticking through the bars of the crib because he had wiggled sideways. Then, by morning, he would have wedged his head into different corner completely and tossed his binky on the floor. I wondered how he would ever learn to sleep with blankets and a pillow. But now that he has learned to keep his head at the head end of the bed, and his bare feet at the other end (Did you know that jammies in size 12 months and larger don’t have feet? Except Carter’s brand.), I guess he is on his way.
He has also mastered the sippy cup. Theo has always been happy to drink anything out of any vessel that anyone puts to his lips, but just this week he finally figured out how to tackle the project on his own. This development could be related to the recent introduction of saltine crackers into his diet. Lesson: if your baby won’t feed himself liquid, just pour salt down his throat until he’s so thirsty he can’t help but suck down any water within his reach.
Theo is thankful for turkey, mashed potatoes, bath time, and the fact that cheese is not a traditional Thanksgiving food.
THEO’S BREAKFAST SOUNDTRACK: Sinatra Reprise, The Very Good Years : Frank Sinatra