story time: peter and the [___]

This is how Erica, Kansas, Bbaker and I spent our afternoon.

Bbaker tells us that she doesn't know the story of Peter and the Wolf. I only remember the version that Disney created. Erica says, "why don't we look it up on Wikipedia?" Okay. So, I get online to look it up and begin to read the synopsis. Kansas says, "wouldn't it be funny if the duck pooped?" Yes, yes it would. We could read the synopsis like a Mad Lib.

I would like to share with you a brief telling of Peter and the Wolf. When you read the following passage, every time you see "[___]" please add the word poop, or the correct tense of the word poop.

Peter, a Soviet Young Pioneer, is at his grandfather's home in a forest clearing. One day Peter goes out into the clearing, leaving the garden gate open, and the duck that lives in the yard takes the opportunity to go [___] on the nearby pond. She starts arguing with a little bird ("What kind of bird are you if you can't [___]?" – "What kind of bird are you if you can't [___]?"). Peter's pet cat sneaks up on them, and the bird —warned by Peter— flies to safety in a tall tree while the duck swims to [___] in the middle of the pond.

Peter's grandfather scolds Peter for being outside in the meadow ("Suppose a wolf [___] out of the forest?"), and, when Peter defies him, saying that "Pioneers are not afraid of wolves", his grandfather takes him back into the house and locks the gate. Shortly afterwards "a big, grey wolf" does indeed come out of the woods. The cat quickly [___] into the tree, but the duck, who has excitedly [___] out of the pond, is chased, overtaken and gulped down by the wolf.

Pioneer Peter fetches a rope and [___] over the garden wall into the tree. He asks the bird to [___] around the wolf's head to distract him, while he lowers a noose and catches the wolf by his tail. The wolf struggles to get free, but Peter ties the rope to the tree and the noose only gets tighter.

Some hunters, who have been tracking the wolf, come out of the forest ready to [___], but Peter gets them to help him take the wolf to the zoo in a victory parade (The piece was first performed for an audience of pioneers during May Day celebrations) that includes himself, the bird, the hunters leading the wolf, the cat and grumpy grumbling Grandfather ("What if Peter hadn't caught the wolf? What then?") In the story's ending, the listener is told that "if you listen very carefully, you'd hear the duck [___] inside the wolf's belly, because the wolf in his hurry had swallowed her alive."

"rain, rain go away" or "john hughes is sage-like"

Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
- Ferris Bueller

Have you ever had a case of the Mun-days on a Wednesday? I don't know if it was the weather or if something was in the water or if there was no good side of the bed to get out of or WHAT! And I'm not even going to go into details. Today was just pretty crappy. And not just for me! My other's been having a bad day, too. WTF!

So, I left my baby-dr appointment this afternoon (by the way, things going well, no news is good news, baby still cooking) and I parted ways with my other at the Columbus Circle station. I was waiting for the light at 8th Ave near the Time Warner Building and looked north and just stopped dead in my tracks. The view of the south west corner of Central Park was beautiful, even in the gloom of an autumn drizzle. I can't remember the last time I stopped just to look at something in the city. The I walked over to 7th Ave to catch the N back home and I looked downtown. There was a perfect view of Times Square. Even from 57th and 7th you can see the New Year's Ball glowing and changing colors from atop 1 Times Square. Two completely different views only blocks away from each other and I remembered why I love New York. I felt better. So much so, that when I descended to the platform the train home had just rolled in, and someone immediately offered me a seat. That was fast.

I guess any day has the potential to be salvaged.

i think i'm uncomfortable by this

The following is an excerpt from Ina May's Guide to Childbirth. I dedicate this to Isaac.

On the afternoon before my son, Jon, was born, I was reading Ram Dass's book Be Here Now and feeling very centered and high with it. I remember I fastened on a particular word and meaning: surrender. I began having contractions and feeling big waves of energy moving. I visualized my yoni as a big, open cave beneath the surface of the ocean, with huge, surging currents sweeping in and out. As the wave of water rushed into my cave, my contraction would grown and swell and fill, reach a full peak, then ebb smoothly back out. I surrendered over and over to the great oceanic, engulfing waves. It was really delightful - very orgasmic and invigorating.

Sexy, huh? Isaac, if you decide that you want to have a baby of your own, I hope your yoni can surrender to the ebbs and flows of your labor. It'll be magical.

me want fresh brew

I am soooooo happy and excited about giving birth. We (now seems like a good time to start talking in the collective sense that comprises baby and mommy) have a little under 4 weeks until our due date. Which means 2 weeks preceding and 2 weeks following the magic day are my bumper "it's okay if the baby is a little early or late" weeks. I hope I have everything. Crib? Check. Diapers? Check. Blankets? Check. Food source? Double check. I think we're prepared.

For the sake of disclosure, I must admit that I, she who writes this blog, said out loud to my offspring, as I was rubbing my tummy in the area where the baby was kicking, "I can hardly wait for that latte." Uh-oh! Crap! What did I say to my child? I didn't proclaim I was anxious for her arrival. And I didn't tell her that I'll be relieved when I can hold her. No, I think I insinuated that I have a desire to have her out of my body so I can guzzle a coffee. Does that make me a bad mother? Can I take it back? Does she really hear what I'm saying? Damn! What if she can read my thoughts as I'm typing this blog?

Okay, deep breath. My unnaturally strong desire for a coffee will pass. It'll be fine. Until I meet my other at the Starbucks down the street from my obstetrician's office today, and I smell that Sumatra blend, and I salivate as I watch the barista make shot after shot of extra strong espresso, and then I climb over the counter (baby bump and all) and shove the barista out of my way, and start to eat straight coffee beans.

And after that, I'll really be okay.

keep it focused

Yesterday, at Lamaze class, the group watched a video of 3 different vaginal births. My favorite was a couple from Boston named Marge (I think that was her name) and Carl. Thick Boston accents make me laugh for some reason. That they had a focal point for Marge to rely on made me laugh for some reason. That their focal point was a 3x5 picture of their cat made me laugh even more. That Carl asked Marge a couple of time during labor, even while she was in the shower, if she wanted her focal point made me loose it.

After the movie, the Lamaze teacher told us a focal point was a good idea, but it should be something bigger, like a small poster. Well, imagine if you were in labor, and your partner asked you if you wanted your focal point and this was it:

Wouldn't you just slap them? Yeah, me too.

political damnation

Peeps, you have to remind me to mail out my absentee ballot application this week. If I don't get to vote in this year's mayoral election I might end up birthing a cow instead of birthing a baby. An' I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no cows!

Why does it have to be a tough decision this year. I don't want to vote for Bloomberg. I don't want to vote for Thompson. And I don't know who the other saps that are running are. I might as well exercise my "fill-in-the-blank" option. But if I do that, I'll have to come up with someone worthy of the office. But who would I want to wish that upon? I believe in civic duty, but anyone running a campaign for a major office has to be a little wack-a-do. Come on, who in their sane mind would really want to be mayor of a major city? Perhaps I'll write in the name of my sworn enemy.


Yup, you guessed it. That molester.

Elmo don't like political scandal.