Baby talk 1: The boom-boom

Baby A is nine months old. She’s not talking yet, but there are plenty of words she seems to recognize. Her name for instance. And “no;” at which she’ll pause, acknowledge our stuffy parental opinion with an indulgent yet rebellious smile, and resume business. And (this is SO cute!) “pet,” upon which she’ll pet-pet-pet your hair, “dance” upon which she‘ll bop on her butt, and “clean” to which she‘ll use whatever‘s handy to wipe a nearby surface clean.

And she has words too. To be precise, she has a very versatile, “boom-boom.” I think she likes the way it feels in her mouth, so she uses it for everything. Even when she’s feeling lonely in the back seat of the car all by herself and goes boom-boom, waaah-waaah, boom-boom, wah-WAH! We’ll have to talk to her about that; it’s completely unconvincing as a heartrending cry for help. Boom-boom.

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The Veggie Update

I received far too much praise for the post I wrote about how my family and I were going to go vegan/ovo-lactarian vegetarians. Uhm… now I have to come back and divulge that it wasn’t the great and lasting success that I anticipated it would be when I wrote about it a week or so into the experiment. The Big and Li’l As have decamped to meat in many forms. Baby A enjoys the taste of all things including veggie burritos, earthworms, and garden dirt. As of today, I still ate cheese. As of last month, I still took one last sushi trip.

Lets detail. Cheese: We were temporarily living with my MIL, who is the sweetest and makes sure that there’s some form of vegetarian protein for me on the table come dinner time. It seems kinda mean to tell her that I don’t eat cheese. Also cheese, it‘s kinda nice; the soy version just doesn’t compare. Sushi: We were moving to what JOAT once called “Holy Middle Earth” which means not very many Sushi restaurants, very few good ones, and no sushi places that would deliver at all--so I had sushi before it got taken away from me. I’ve resisted sushi the last three or four times opportunity has presented itself though. Also, I eat chocolate, but unless it’s made from the eyeballs of wailing baby lambkins, don’t even talk to me about giving it up.

How the family did. Let’s just leave Baby A out of this. She’s into cannibalistically biting everyone lately and just wouldn’t understand about sparing other species. Big A was enthusiastic about the venture; Li’l A was always unhappy about it. But the food that I cooked just didn’t taste right after I removed meat from it. Commenter Amit suggested that meat could be replaced with TVP, but there weren’t too many fans of that at home. I also keep getting asked if I miss meat. I don’t. I used to, back when I used to give it up as a penance or vrath. But this time around, I have zero cravings and actually get a little cranky with all the recipe suggestions for fake meat and substitution.

So at the end of it we have one vegetarian who went vegan (except for cheese and milk chocolate), we have two gusty meaty eaters who tried vegetarianism and one baby who’s demonstrating a growing keenness for animal-based food. Our farm share veggies, which I was depending on to introduce us to an abundance of new veggie experiences are ‘orrible and mealy, but we live in a liberal college town where there are plenty of veggie and vegan choices on every menu.

Being vegan does make it a little difficult to go out for pizza or icecream as a family. And I’ve been opting out of such excursions because it feels weird, but it also feels weird to have them go without me. Much as Big A supports my decision, when I refuse a certain food, there is an unaware split-second, a flash of surprise and then resignation. I hate telling people that I’m vegan, because it sounds pious and as though I am going to sit at the table with them and disapprove of their food choices. So Big A is under strict instructions not to introduce me to anyone as a veggie. When we’re invited to dinner, I’d rather pick food that I am happy to eat without explanation.

I don’t see myself ever going back to animal products. My family eats less meat (esp. at home). It’s not what I’d call a revolutionary transformation, but a modification is blowing in the wind.

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Mahmoud Darwish 1942-2008

I didn't always agree with Darwish's philosophy and have sometimes quibbled about his craft. But his death is a too sudden loss. And i find myself recalling his charm, his insistence that conflict is absurd when all the possibilities for life--for love--exist.

From his 2002 poem A State of Siege: (You can hear Darwish read it here.)

[To a killer:] If you reflected upon the face
of the victim you slew, you would have remembered your mother in the room
full of gas. You would have freed yourself
of the bullet’s wisdom,
and changed your mind: ‘I will never find myself thus.’

[To another killer:] If you left the foetus thirty days
in its mother’s womb, things would have been different.
The occupation would be over and this suckling infant
would forget the time of the siege
and grow up a healthy child
reading at school, with one of your daughters
the ancient history of Asia.
They might even fall in love
and give birth to a daughter [she would be Jewish by birth].
What, then, have you done now?
Your daughter is now a widow
and your granddaughter an orphan.
What have you done with your scattered family?
And how have you slain three doves in one story?

...

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Someone at CNN is snickering sophomoronically

CNN report:

Shanteau, 24, of Lilburn, Georgia, was diagnosed with testicular cancer June 19, a week before he left for the U.S. swim trials.

[down a few paragraphs]

….his girlfriend, Jeri Moss, who played the key role in discovering the cancer...

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Spam trek

Hot on the heels of having several of my online accounts (evite, netflix, gmail, blogger etc.,) hacked, I’m being hit with spam from every where. Even on Flickr.

Ever since I started as poetry editor at _i’m keeping it secret for now_, most of the trash in my trusty gmail spam folder is prefixed with the word “poetry.” Although there’s nothing particularly poetic about it.

You be the judge:

Alfonse Quinlan: For: poetry Britney Spears Shaves Head At Request Of Zombie Overlord
claiborn venkat? For: poetry Britney Spears To Be Adopted By African Child

Umm. Okay?

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Browser gender

I haven't been keeping up with the internets lately, so I don’t know if y'all have already done this test that guesses your gender (although it is expressed in sex rather than gender terms) based on your web browsing history.


Ha! Turns out that I’m well rounded and leap stereotypes at a single bound.

My result:
Likelihood of you being FEMALE is 50%
Likelihood of you being MALE is 50%

Sweet. Treats.

At the antique mall in front of a case of old toothpaste tubes.

Me to my MIL: I used to suck the toothpaste out of discarded tubes on my grandmother’s terrace roof.

MIL to me: Oh. So you wouldn’t eat your lunch (referring to my notorious eating habits), but you would eat toothpaste. Shakes her head at me despairingly.

Me: You don’t understand, my grandmother’s toothpaste was *minty*. My parents made us brush with Forhans--it came in an orange tube and was chalky and horrible. That's why i loved sucking on Colgate.

MIL: Good choice. Did you get all the flouride you wanted?

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