Happy Belated Hanukkah

It was only a matter of time...

...I got a couple e-mails today about lead in paint on dog toys. Won't somebody think of the puppies?

I am having trouble with all the toy danger stuff because I don't like to buy into alarmist-sounding sorts of things. Except that I do think a lot of it is true. On the local radio talk show the other day they had on a woman who has spent her career as a toy safety professional. Someone called in and asked if they should be worried about a random toy they had just purchased. The woman was pretty much like, yes, you should. Cardboard boxes it is, which as you know is how we like to operate anyway.

I have to admit, the video yesterday was about 75% Aaron's doing.

Lately Dylan has been really excited about any Dylan-sized seating that may be available. When it snowed last week we therefore decided to skip the snowman and go for a toddler lounge chair instead. She hung out there for a LONG time while we played with Snuffy.

REPENT

Spicy

Bleisenblog is sweeping the nation

I am nominating myself for Worst Performance at a Yankee Swap at the MD/PhD holiday party last night. Not only did I have to pick first (I spent one second congratulating myself on being first before I remembered how the game works), but I made the strategic mistake of not choosing the obvious alcohol gifts, which are really a no-lose kind of choice. Either you end up with alcohol, or someone else takes it and you get to pick again. Instead I ended up with Bunco,the game that's sweeping the nation. Despite its nation-sweeping properties, no one even considered taking it from me, not even for one second. All in all it was a brutal game, an emotional roller coaster, where people did not hesitate to take games from children if they felt like it. However, I have to say that my pathetic attempts at trading ended well because after it was all over the person who got the snowman decorating kit gave it to me, and just now the guy who got the eggnog came over and dropped it off since I had mentioned Aaron likes it. I guess the moral is if you whine loudly enough you get what you want, just what my loved ones wanted me to learn.

And now, courtesy of Aaron, a series called "Dylan Hatches Her Young"

Dylan: magic eight ball with only one option

Dylan can tell by your intonation whether you've asked a question. This is helpful because it clues her in to start solemnly, yet forcefully, shaking her head no. She signals that she likes something, not by smiling, but by opening her mouth as wide as she can. Like so:

This was not staged

Mini me

Dylan's second winter, but the first one where she will be any fun in the snow

ps Have I inadvertently ensured that Dylan is going to be inundated with Bear Bears as gifts? Raise your hand if you've already hunted one down. I thought so. Although don't you feel a little silly sitting at your computer raising your hand?

Beah Beah

Up until a couple weeks ago Dylan loved all stuffed creatures equally. In retrospect, that was convenient of her. More recently she has completely fixated on Bear Bear (pronounced Beah Beah because of her Boston-area upbringing). It's nice in one way, which is that tossing Bear Bear at her calms her down occasionally. In other ways, ugh, the main one being that I am constantly finding myself in the position of forcibly separating a small child from her beloved. No stuffed animals in the tub? *reaches out plaintively* BEAH BEAH! [Also, no granola in the tub? WAAAAAH!] Don't want the bear to get mixed up with dinner? BEAH BEAH! Casually drop Bear Bear on the floor four times in the grocery store resulting in his subsequent removal from your person? BEAH BEAH!

The other problem is that we are constantly having to locate Bear Bear or time stops. It seems reasonable to think that as long as we're keeping track of Dylan and Snuffy we can probably handle keeping an eye on an immobile stuffed bear, but really it's sort of a pain. Last night as (I thought) Dylan was about to drift off to sleep her eyes suddenly popped open and she whispered, beah beah. I am of course looking to purchase a second Bear Bear, but the Internet seems to be all out, at least the reasonably priced part of the Internet with websites I trust. Oh well, let me know if you see one somewhere. Here he is, Bear Bear.

On an unrelated note, pics from Street Vendor Sol, or In Which Dylan Narrowly Avoids Getting Eaten:

Mmmmm...SOCK BRAINS

What's that? You think I should be working on my dissertation? Instead of painstakingly fashioning giant insects out of household items? Well who asked you? No one, that's who.

The inspiration behind the inspired creation of the inspiring insects was Dylan's membership in the Naturalist Scouts of the Universe, founded by a visionary 5-year-old. We wanted to do a nature project for it so we could send him some pictures, but the sad demise of the snow leading to the 6 inches of slush outside prevented us from doing anything outdoors. I have hardly ever seen the roads as bad as they were today.

Because of the way my research is set up I can't do too much with it on the weekends anyway. Otherwise I surely would have been at my computer working away. That always works well with Dylan around, I've noticed. And between the food poisoning and the working toward an Important Deadline this Thursday Aaron was around between 11am and 12pm Saturday, leaving Dylan and me with plenty of Together Time.

We had two unexpected really fun things happen yesterday.

One. Look what I won! One of these guys. Just for posting every day in November, as if I should be encouraged to do such a thing. If you have any ideas about which one I should choose you can tell me in the comments.

Two. We went to a coffee shop with friends late yesterday afternoon to head off the traditional Two Hours of Cranky Before Dinner, brought to you by Kate and Dylan. Dylan was cautious at first, but soon became comfortable enough to run all around, soliciting smiles from coffee shop patrons, at least those able to tear their glance away from their laptops. I do not know how a child of ours is able to work a crowd in such a manner. She was soon adopted by two wild 4 or 5 year old boys (we're very progressive), who only knocked her over (literally, not the liquor store kind of knocking over) a couple of times. There was a benefit concert in half of the shop that we didn't want to pay for, so we just hung out in the other half. At least for a while. After three or four times of Dylan going over to the door of the other room and staring wistfully at the band while swaying to the music we had no option but to pay so she could get closer. She ran right over to the edge of the stage and planted herself happily, occasionally standing up to rock out to a particularly good song. If only she could have a lighter.

Curled up by the stage (in white shirt) with her buddies twirling around her

Getting her groove on

And the inevitable Talking To

Behind the Scenes

Aaron wandered in occasionally and asked, for example, why my ski poles were out or why he wasn't allowed to reassemble the toy I had ripped apart. Eventually he figured out to ask if all the questions I wasn't answering were related, especially since I kept saying all would be revealed. He did not, however, wonder why whatever game we were playing required every toy and bowl at the same time.








Other updates:

Snuffy's Ugly Doll infection has cleared up nicely.

So has Aaron's apparent food poisoning. It was the clam chowder, with the unidentified infectious agent, at the corporate retreat.

We got about six inches of snow last night. I am refusing to shovel on the grounds that surely it will melt soon. Most importantly, it gave me a chance to try out my cool new snow boots.

Infestation

Aaron Update

Still in bed. A long stretch, even for him. His tactless heirs are already fighting over the estate.