Phenon – Hey Soul Sister

While I may not be the biggest fan of the song, I could not be a bigger fan of the singer. I think I need to upgrade that PC; It doesn’t seem to be able to keep the video and audio even remotely in sync. Regardless, the girl can sing. She has a solo in her Honors Chorus concert tonight, and landed a role as a “Silly Girl” in her school’s performance of Beauty and the Beast. Just that many steps closer to her dream of being either a rock star or to perform on Broadway. Sigh.

Little Progressive in Training

My dearest daughter (age 10 in a week) was totally psyched the other morning that she figured out how to tune in the local NPR station on her ipod-dock/radio. To J: “Now I can hear what’s going on with Barack and McCain every morning.” Man, when I was her age I couldn’t stand when my parents put on NPR. I’m so proud of her.

P and Marty

P went to Liberty with my mom to visit my Grandmother Marty at the end of the summer. She took our camera with her and took a bunch of really cool pictures. I love seeing how P sees the world and what she things of as worthy of recording. Everything from door handles on a rental car to the shadows on Marty’s courtyard. This is not one of her pictures, rather it was taken by my mom.

From P’s Pictures in Liberty

Head Not Quite as Hard as Wall

R, not looking happy

R smashed into a wall. These eleven stitches (three on the inside) bring his grand total to fifteen, and his number of visits to the ER to four. While that is an average of less than one visit per year, it must be noted that three of those visits have come in the last 18 months. And all but one of them a head injury.

“Action-Boy” strikes again!

Queer Egg Roll

J and R rolling eggsJ and I camped out all night Friday with a bunch of people organized by to get tickets for the White House egg roll. It was a lovely night and only rained a few minutes Saturday morning. Next year, we’ll be better prepared with tent and sleeping bags and bring the kids.

The egg roll itself was pretty fun. There were lots of performers on different stages, and the kids had a great time. As you see from the photo, young R and old J participated in the roll. P would have none of it and I hung out with her to cheer her little brother on.

The event was marred only by some really horrible protesters outside the gate telling our kids that they would get sick being out on such a rainy day without god protecting them. I’m pretty sure that P felt all confidence that the Goddess had her back all the way, and R doesn’t listen to anything anyone else says anyway.

We overheard some White House staff grumbling as we passed that this was a family event and that…well, whatever they said it was stupid. What would you expect from this White House?

Here are some links to coverage: story slideshow story story
SF Chronicle story

The Mind of a Four-Year-Old

J: Mama
R: Son, Age 7

R: [Gasp!] mama – there’s blood on your finger!! get a band-aid, quick!!
J: Oh, rats, must be a hangnail.
R: Oh, I HATE hangnails!! I hate them!!… What’s a hangnail?
J: [explains]
R: Oh, yea. I HATE those! How old are you?
J: 36.
R: 26?
R: [Gasp!] You’re almost a grandma!!!
J: I’m a grandma when you have babies. Are you almost going to have babies?
R: No. I’m never having babies. I’m going to be partners with P [R’s sister].
J: Partners with P?
R: Yes. I’m never going to marry.
J: Oh. What’s the difference between partners and marrying?
R: I don’t know.
J: Well, you can’t have babies with your sister.
R: Nope. Maybe she can have babies with her husband and we’ll just be partners.
J: What if she doesn’t have a husband?
R: She has to or she can’t play with mans. And, she has to play with mans or it won’t be fun.
J: What if she wants a wife?
R: You can’t have two WIFES!!! Then you would have FOUR babies! And THAT would be TERRIBLE.
J: Why?
R: FOUR babies?!? You would be CRAZY!
J: Well, sure. It’s not such a hot idea to have more kids than parents around. Scary. But, why would two wives have to have four babies?
R: Because each wife has to have her own two. This is boring. Grab my feet!

Dobson is a Dick

What a complete and utter pud. Total dork-wad all tied up in knots. Check out the post on Sadly, No. James Dobson is trying to help you stop the evils of queerness in your dear child.

Is My Child Becoming a Homo…er…sexual?

Should I worry that – at the tender young age of 4 – Demon #2 is only happy when he’s dressed as some sort of superhero-Babushka and thinks he looks smashing in barrettes? Nah, I’ll worry when he stops calling the shrub “President Butthole,” and starts eating meat. No, not that kind of meat. I could care less if he eats that kind of meat. I just fear that he’ll eat animals someday and start voting Republican. Eating hot studly beefcake, though? Not so much a worry here at the homestead.

Who would have seen it coming?

In what I can only imagine to be a hilarious and nearly tragic chain of events culminating in a grand crash and a kind of splash, I rushed to the dining room to witness the following scene:

  • Demon #1 (4 1/2) with one foot in a toy dump truck and the other halfway to a dining room chair.
  • Demon #2 (19 mos) standing with one of his sister’s dress-up dresses on, completely drenched, a little too freaked out and surprised to even be screaming yet. Just sort of whimpering.
  • Four Foot high stereo speaker (until recently the home of a fish tank) rocking back and forth.
  • Goldfish flopping around on a floor completely covered with water and little blue gravel.

I think everyone is ok now. The fish is in new water. The kids ate better lunches than they have in forever (probably ’cause they’re still in shock). The floor is completely mopped and most likely cleaner than it’s been in months. I’m ready for a nap or a bath. I hope J comes home soon.

Uncle Me

I’m an uncle for the first time. She’s beautiful. I want to go see my little sister and her new baby so badly. Soon. Maybe three weeks or so. Beautiful.. Both. Just beautiful.

I’m off from office work this week. I start the new job on Monday and last Friday was my last day at the TV station. I’ve been taxiing kids around this week while J tries desperately to finish collecting data for her dissertation. We’ve been meeting at 5 for dinner the last few nights just because if we don’t we won’t see each other all day. We leave the house at 8am and see each other for an hour for dinner and then she teaches until 9 or so. It’s great that she is getting so much work done. Her shit is always the first to get put to the side because it doesn’t bring in the immediate reward of a paycheck and that sucks. I mean shit…her work actually means something. She is the one that is doing good work for the world…trying to make a difference in some way. I’m just a web drone, like a million other web drones. I like the work fine, it’s just not doing anything to make the world a better place. I wish I could get a gig as webmaster for some really great activist web site.

Here’s a cool one: