Scribbling Dame

Preposterous Pondering.

Top 5 Children’s books to get your kid if you are a weirdo. May 9, 2011

I pride myself on being a really thoughtful gift giver. So, when Sofia got invited to a birthday party this weekend, I was happy to go to the bookstore and explore the Children’s book selection.

This is one of the many great things about being a parent–suddenly whole new sections of stores and even cities are opened up for your participation and perusal!

But I couldn’t just buy any old book. I have two English degrees! The choices have to be 1)of literary merit 2)not a book that everyone already has and 3)slightly off the beaten path. Thankfully, weird people such as myself write a lot of children’s books these days. Here are some of my top picks for a variety of ages–and they are linked for your shopping pleasure! I am so full service!

Butterfly in the sky...or. Lavar Burton.

1. Interrupting Chicken by David Ezra Stein

It’s pretty much what it sounds like. A rooster is trying to tell his chick bedtime stories, but can’t quite get through a page…

2. Dick and Jane and Vampires by Tommy Hunt

A twist on the old Dick and Jane but less boring because creepy vampires lurk in the background of every scene!

3. Go the F*ck to Sleep by Adam Mansbach

Okay so this one is really for adults and little newborns who can’t repeat the F word. A hilarious rhyming bedtime ditty that shares the honesty of bedtime from the parent’s perspective.

4. Why Mommy is a Democrat by Jeremy Zilber or Help! Mom! There are Liberals under my Bed! by Katharine DeBrecht

An awesome intro to politics for the junior ambitious types. You may want to hold off on the DeBrecht text until you are sure your kiddo won’t have nightmares about the liberals under the bed…

5. A kids weird booklist wouldn’t be complete without Everybody Poops by Taro Gomi.

The illustrations of poop and varying facial expressions are worth the money alone. I wonder, how many darfts did they have to go through to get that book right?

I figure, my kid is already going to be weird given her lineage. We might as well read some funny things along the way…


Yule Log December 30, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 11:07 pm
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Not this kind.


Funny story…

For Christmas Eve for the past couple of years, my husband has cooked a fancy dinner for us and his parents. We do a table setting, use the wedding china, and generally eat expensive rich foods while slowly getting trashed on wine or other bevvies. Regardless, we are sophisticated in the name of the holiday spirit.

So, this year was veal and we had some good wines we picked up on a recent trip that we saved for the occasion. We also went to a specialty spice and chocolate shop to pick out some dessert truffles–we landed on some chocolate covered salted caramels. These details are not explicitly relevent to the story–I just thought you should know how fancy we are.

Anyway, I literally put a bite of salad in my mouth when my kid looks at me with a desperate and crinkled face and announces to all, “I’M POOPING!” Right there at the table. Just like I taught her, only the EXACT OPPOSITE.


So I briskly get up to try and prevent a yule log incident that goes beyond implied and in doing so I manage to knock over my husband’s wine–all over the fucking table.

We really did try to be classy. I should know better by now.

P.S. Did anyone get the yule log on their t.v. this year (I mean the real one, not the poop one)? I was sad I couldn’t find it…



I got peed on, but I am praying for poop July 9, 2010

What has my life come to? Holy Christ!

We are potty training, which really means I am doing laundry every night, finding convincing ways to manipulate–I mean motivate– my child to wash her hands when she’s done, and dreaming of the day when we don’t have to spend loads of dough on something for my kid to shit in.

The other day Sofia had an accident (which, let’s face it, is totally not an accident but an oversight meant to destroy my life) and her piss splashed on my foot. No fucking lie. Pee. On my foot.

This is the Golden Shower Tree. Seriously. This is NOT what happened on my foot.

I have been a very tolerable and gracious mom about all things liquid coming from my child from puke to poop to drool to ABC food, but this really grossed me out. I mean, it’s not like I could take a shower right there or put my foot in the sink to wash like my hands. After all we’ve been through for two-and-a-half years, this is where we end up.

So my kid pees on me. What I cannot get her to do–in her diaper or on the toilet is poop. It’s like she belongs to a cult of athiest non-poopers. I am not sure why I am making that connection, but it seems right. This anti-movement movement has been as far back as I can remember–when she was an infant I distinctly remember hovering over her, crying, and praying to God that if he would make her poop, I would find religion again.

So now I am an athiest. Okay not really, but I have become General Sneaky Fiber. My kid eats Fiber whole grain toast, fiber pop-tarts, fiber (11 grams!) granola bars. If there is any fiber product out there, my kid is eating it. It should be noted here that any of nature’s solutions for this my child declines to eat. Prunes or leafy greens–denied!

Eventually, once a week or so, after many tears and lamentations, Sofia will drop a load so big that I cannot even flush it down the toilet without clogging it up. It is, conservatively, a giant softball sized poopball. I have no idea how it even gets out of her little pinhole of an anus. It’s actually kind of impressive…

This is what comes out of my kid's weency little butt once a week.

And this is why I got peed on, but I am praying for poop.


Smart person. Sometimes. April 20, 2010

Filed under: SuperWoman Syndrome — Scribbling Dame @ 9:34 pm
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I am a smart person on most occasions but there are some things I do that I know are dumb, but I just can’t help myself from doing.

1)Feeding my kid sweets. I don’t do this excessively so her teeth rot out or anything, but I love giving my kid ice cream or candy just to watch the sheer enjoyment she gets from it. This is obviously dumb because after the sweetness of her pleasure, I am susceptible to her sugar-crazed zoo animal behavior.

2)Listening to my horoscope and astrology in general. I am not sure this is dumb as much as it is hokey, but I figure, the Aztecs did it and so did a bunch of other smart people so even though there is no logical proof that it works, there is also no logical evidence that it doesn’t! So, every day when I get my coffee at Starbucks there I am reading the daily horoscope and giving pre-emptive dirty look to the suits I can feel judging me…

3)I do not know how to use fucking Excel even though just about everyone else at my job does. On the one hand I am smart for getting away with it for so long. On the other, I am dumb for not just taking a weekend class for God’s sake.

4) I watch T.V. far more than I read which is actually a sin since I have 2 degrees in English. I don’t just watch smart people T.V. like OPB and Nova and shit, but I spend an equal amount of time watching trashy vapid T.V. like Millionaire Matchmaker and The Bachelor. Although, if I watch the trash on hulu commercial free is that maybe a little smarter?

5) I do not fucking floss, even though I know it literally adds years to your life. I barely have the energy to brush my teeth. I will live dangerously on this one and be sure to always wear my seatbelt to balance it out.

6) I always have to make the sign of the cross when I am taking off in an airplane. I am not Catholic, but I have always done this and I am sure that the ONE TIME I don’t do it, my fucking plane will crash and it will all be because I didn’t do this stupid fucking hand gesture.

7) I refuse to poop when someone else is in my workplace bathroom. I also generally try and go to another floor. Bathrooms are for pooping, yet I censor my butt.

I am sure there are more dumb things I do,but for now I could only think of seven. Stay tuned…


Poo Diddy February 4, 2010

Filed under: Mommy Issues — Scribbling Dame @ 10:58 pm
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More poop talk ladies, because, let’s face it, POOP becomes a major subject of discussion and focus when pregnancy and parenthood are on the horizon. I present you a timeline of POOP:

During pregnancy: You will likely complain that you are not POOPing enough because those prenatal vitamins have so much iron in them you swear someone shoved a cork in your asshole.

Delivery: POOP may or may not have been a known part of your experience. You were a little busy, so you didn’t think to pay attention and like all great mysteries, it is more fun not to know.

Post-Partum: If you have a C-section, POOPing on your own is your crowning achievement which signifies that you can go home from the hospital. Yippee!

Newborn 1st month: You are either amazed at how much your kid can CRAP and how literally after greedily eating s/he SHITS out your breast milk which to you has the value of liquid gold but to your infant is not good enough to keep in his stomach for longer than 5 minutes after digesting, OR you find yourself crying out and making promises of purity to God in heaven because it has been 14 days since your baby had a SHIT and you are convinced this means her insides are slowly disintegrating and your baby is dying and this is all your fault for having sex out of wedlock. (You later find out that 14 days can be “normal” for breastfed babies).

Newborn 2nd month: You have finally left the house with your baby and socialize with other parents so you can talk about POOP all night.

Newborn 3 months: You think it’s no big deal to go ahead and take the hike with the baby in the Bjorn and the SkipHop with one diaper in it. Your kid has never had a “BLOWOUT” POOP massacre before, so there is no way it would happen now. Except that it does and you have no spare clothes so you have to wrap your baby in a receiving blanket like a caveman might and trek back to the car hoping that you don’t have POOP on your hands because you only had 2 wipes to get ‘er done.

Newborn 6 months: now that your baby is eating solids you and your partner think it is cute when little Johnny or Susie makes her scrunchy POOPY face and produces a golf-ball sized excrement.

1 year: you have now honed your craft of diaper changing and even delegating who gets to change the POOPY diapers. You can change a POOPY diaper with your eyes closed, one-handed while half alseep and hanging upside down.

1.5 years: Your baby now loves bath-time and you love it to because you can sit next to her and blog or read or Facebook while she entertains herself in the tub until she says “POOPY” and you experience your own personal pool scene from Caddyshack only your brown floating log is not, in fact, a snickers bar but a CRAP log, which means you now have to give her a bath to clean her up from her bath AND sanitize all her toys.

2 years: Even though you just said in a team meeting on Monday that you think your kid is too dainty to play with her POOP, and you can therefore not relate to the POOP horror stories of your colleagues, it is Wednesday and your daughter shows you her fingers and says “POOPY” and you see that there are smears on your hardwood floors and her fuzzy pink purse and mango looking POOP slices coming out of the back of her diaper.

Thus is the poo-ology of the first two years. Please stay tuned for the next exciting installments sure be produced during the potty training months…


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