We Hardly Knew Ye...

Listen, I know there is real stuff going on in the world. Big stuff. Scary stuff. Really big scary stuff. It's too much sometimes to comprehend. Sometimes all you can do is give a little of what you can and keep hoping that there are the right people trying to do the right thing at the scene, on the ground, that will make a difference. Then you go give your daughter an extra hug and a kiss and thank the universe that just by sheer luck alone you and she were born in a safe and beautiful place.

When the magnitude of what a shitstorm the world can be at times is just overwhelming, you focus on something smaller, something more compact and more manageable. I think this is the main reason why we have the kind of celebrity mania we do in our culture. It's easier to get all riled up about who's with whom or not, who's had what done to any part of their body, who's too fat, too thin, too crazy and on and on it goes. Why? Because it really doesn't matter. It's all projected angst, displaced rage, disgust, indignation. It's a really really good distraction. If people were to funnel all of the energy they put into caring about American Idol contestants and voting frantically to make sure they live to karaoke another day to issues that really matter, well, I have a faint hope that the world would be a
better place. At the very least, at the absolute minimum, a more engaged one. In the absence of true civil discourse though, there is just an awful lot of noise. And late night talk show feuds.

So I suppose that it's without not a whole lot of irony that a small part of me is the tiniest bit heartbroken at the moment.



I've had a crush on this guy since 1993 when he first hit the airwaves, at a time in my life when you still lived and died by late night television. He was high school hallway talk the following morning. He went from 'Who the hell is this guy' to 'Hey, did you see Conan last night?' I only ever remember Johnny Carson as host of the Tonight Show and despite being quite young during his reign, I seem to recall watching quite a bit of him. I distinctly remember watching his final show in my parents basement. And then promptly forgetting about the Tonight Show altogether until June of 2009.

Because the other guy isn't funny. At all. Never has been. He wasn't funny at 11:35, he wasn't funny at 10 and I'm fairly confident he will continue to be not funny when he's back at 11:35. I kind of have my fingers crossed that after an illustrious 60 year run, the other guy will be the one to kill The Tonight Show once and for all. In my opinion, that would be a fitting legacy. Because if he had any class at all, he would bow out and RETIRE like he said he was going to five years ago. Passive aggressive placating to network executives is unflattering to say the least.

Lunacy. It certainly has been fun to watch though, on all fronts. Especially Letterman. I'm going to miss this incarnation of The Tonight Show, I think it had real potential, had it been given a chance. Seven months. I can't get over it. Seven measly months. It's almost enough to make me just throw in the towel and cancel the cable altogether.

Anyway...



Here's the cute patoot doing her level best at posing in knitwear. This adorable ensemble is courtesy of lexa over at Just in the Knit of Time. It was only after I had taken this shot that I tidied up her hair a bit and attempted another shoot, but no dice. And it was later still that I found tights with ruffles on the bum at the Superstore, which are just begging to be worn with outfits such as this. I'm a big fan of tights for babies, I never thought I would be, and it's just too bad that little boys can't wear them too. I never have to worry about socks being pulled off and the rest of the leg is nice and toasty. It's a small luxury. For both of us.

In Pinta news, she's had a bit of a cognitive explosion in the last couple of weeks. After months of trying, she finally figured out the commando crawl and just in the last few days had been putting her arms and hands too practical use after being on hands and knees for what seems like forever now. Most of the time, you'd think she was doing baby yoga, with her on her tippy toes in a downward dog position. Then she does that leaning thing that you see above, which is pretty much her version of getting to a sitting position from lying down. It's freakin' adorable.

Then all of a sudden, out of the blue, on the same day no less, she started waving and clapping her hands. Out of nowhere. And after months of indoctrination, she finally started doing the hand sign we'd assigned to her bottle. She does it all the time now, prompted and unprompted, when she wants her bottle (or pretty much anything else to drink for that matter). I'd also been doing my own hand sign for 'all done' when we're having meals, and she's started to do it pretty consistently now too when she's had enough. In addition, she can also say 'Doggie', or her interpretation of it which is more like 'do-do-do-do', but it's a word associated with a thing and she has connected the two. So I was partially correct in my assumption that her first word would have something to do with the dog, but relieved it isn't the string of obscenities that she has likely heard since she was a zygote. I really gotta stop that now.

While we're bragging here, her vocab includes 'Da-Da' pretty much all of the time that she is happy and only 'Ma-Ma' or 'Mmumumum' when she's pretty miserable or in desperate need of something, like a block she can't reach, a nap or some food. There is all kinds of other gobblydegook in her chatter now that are sounding more and more like mimics of real words and the fact that we're communicating on an interactive and meaningful level now just blows my mind.

In crafty news, I'm chugging away on my Babette blanket with renewed intensity and am nearing the home stretch. Very excited. I still think it's going to be too wee, but whatever. I'll just be pleased with myself to have finished what I started.

Until later...