Quickies

SpiderJude goes down

Our itsy bitsy spider climbed into a web of hurt this afternoon when he pulled a chair down on his head. We had been washing the floors and stacked the chairs upside down (closing time at the pub style) on the table. Jude was able to grab hold of the back on a chair and out of the corner of me eye he just went down with the chair bouncing off his forehead. When I picked him up his forehead looked squished and fluid was moving under the skin. We were shaken and dashed to the ER where most of our fears were allayed. He looked a lot better once the mountain of forehead fluids subsided. He was happy and playful this evening before bed, although I have to wake him every couple hours and see if he is behaving normally for a one year old rudely woken in the night. How do I determine that? I am grateful and relieved to still have a little spider to crawl around our house.

Posted on 07.19.09 to Quickies. Grab the feed. No comments yet. Comment or trackback from your own site.

Emerson Jude, Tamara

Shenanigans

Jude is something else.  He does things, scary dangerous things, that would make most parents absolutely freak out.  We, on the other hand, are used to his craziness, his shenanigans, that we don’t react so much.  If we chased him around and took him off of every high place he manages to climb to we would never be able to sit down.  We remove him and he is right back at it.  This is the child who shows you the (remote/ cell phone/camera…) and runs away as fast as his little legs can carry him chortling with glee.

For example:

There is Gigi sitting peacefully on the couch while Jude is literally standing on the back of the couch, playing with the buttons on the exercise bike and attempting to toss the lamp.  Notice, if you can, that naughty little look on his face.  Does he know that he shouldn’t do this?  ABSOLUTELY!  Nyah nyah!

He also makes his way to the windows at times with is feet on the back of the couch and his forehead pressed to the glass.  He even tries to escape through the window!  In this hot weather, we can’t open the windows until Jude is in bed because he gets out and makes a break for it!

Here he is at mealtimes:

He starts out fine.  But notice how stripped down the high chair is!  This is him when he first gets close to finishing:

Yes, that’s my son sitting on his food.  He is still eating at this point and gets even more comfortable with his new seat:

If this ruse doesn’t work, he stands up and does the fake-out step off.  That is, he stands up and puts one foot over the side.

We’ve had people over when he does this, and for the mere mortal, it is frightful!  He’s going to FALL!  But, he never has.

Finally, his last effort, and the sign that he is TRULY done with his food, he throws it all on the floor.  We clean him up, Martha gets a treat, and we start the whole process over the next time we feed King Kong the Mountain Goat.

Posted on 07.19.09 to Emerson Jude, Tamara. Grab the feed. No comments yet. Comment or trackback from your own site.

Tamara

What’s in a Name?

With each of my children, I knew their gender at about six weeks.  I guess it was that mother’s intuition kicking in right away, I am not sure.  But funnily enough, Bradley managed to sway me the other way with both of them, until at that 17 week ultrasound we were told that my intuition had been right!  The first game we played upon confirming both pregnancies was the name game.  A child’s name is the first gift a parent gives to their child and we seek out the most perfect, the most wonderful, the most appropriate name for this little person who is forming inside.  Here are the stories of our children’s names.

Guinevere Rose Littlejohn

In our humble opinion, Guinevere is a severely underused name.  Guinevere is a beautiful name, the name of a queen, the name evokes magic.  The name encompasses Bradley’s love of folklore and my desire for an unusual name.  It is elegant and beautiful.  Her middle name, Rose, is a family name.  My mother’s father’s mother’s name was Rose, and it was a lovely pairing with Guinevere.  It also happens to be the name of Laura Ingalls Wilders’ daughter, my best childhood friend’s last name, and represents our love of gardening.   If she happened to be a boy, we were throwing around the idea of Percival, Jude, Piers, Emerson, Willem, and Wilhelm.  Her name was decided within weeks of hearing that we were pregnant.  However, I am not a fan of the name Gwen.  Gwen is the name of women who are between the ages 26 and 34, it is not a child’s name.  As soon as we announced our intentions to name our daughter Guinevere, we began hearing her referred to as Gwen.  We countered with Winnie.  Oh!  Winnie!  Our beloved babe, such a cute nickname.  During her entire stay in my womb (once we knew she was a SHE), we called her Winnie, told people we would call her Winnie, and then, as soon as she came into our world on October 13th, 2003, we promptly stopped calling her by that name.  I tried, Bradley tried, but every time someone uttered that name, I inwardly blanched.  What were we thinking?  Winnie?  That is an awful name for this sublime child, so full of beauty and grace.  So for the first few months she was Guinevere, our queen bee in training, and only known by a few other pet names.  We called her Bunny, Sweetie, Smartie, Honey and all of those typical baby names.  We also called her Rosie and Rose.  Around five months, we were able to start chanting, “G-Baby G-Baby G-Baby G!”  and Guinevere would scootch her little baby bottom in rhythm with the chant, and when she was in her exersaucer she would really go wild!  So G-Baby was born, which eventually lead to Gigi.  We still call her Rose, Rosie and Guinevere, but Gigi is what she chooses above all else.  When she starts kindergarten this fall, she will be known as Gigi to her friends.  When we are in public and I am trying to get her attention, I use any of her names: Gigi, Rose, Guinevere or Rosie and switch them up often as she responds and hears different ones better than others at times.  I think sometimes people are wondering what this poor kid’s name really is!

Emerson Jude Littlejohn

While waiting those four long years between Gigi and Jude, we had plenty of time to think about a boys’ name.  Emerson Jude was decided long before we ever even got pregnant.  In fact, I believe Emerson Jude (or Jude Emerson) was a possibility for Jeff and Michelle’s second child who turned out to be a girl (Luna Willow).   I had a feeling that I was carrying a boy, but just like my first pregnancy, Bradley convinced me that the baby was the opposite of my intuition.  While we waited to find out his gender, we threw a couple of girl names around (Tallulah, Winifred, Penelope, Margaret, Adalaide) but could never land on the just right name.  I was panicky before going to the first ultrasound because (for some irrational reason) I felt like we had to have a girl name and a boy name, just so we could be prepared.  No need to worry though, Jude was so wiggly that we couldn’t get a clear look.  The second time round, though, we were able to see that he was indeed a HE!  Emerson Jude, he would be.  We decided on Emerson because of the great American transcendentalist and writer, Ralph Waldo Emerson.  Jude was just a name we liked.  That St. Jude is the patron Saint of lost causes seemed appropriate because his very existence seemed like a lost cause at times as well while we were trying to create his little beautiful life.  Both of Jude’s grandfathers use their middle names rather than their first names.  By using Jude as his primary name we are paying homage to this tradition in our families.  We realize that we have saddled him with a lifetime of explanations, but I like the tradition regardless.  In addition to his given name, he has a score of nicknames.  While in utero, we decided to decorate his room with retro space and robot artifacts.  He was called Spaceboy, Astroboy and The Cosmic Kid.  After making his entrance to this world, he gained the names Boo (and even Boo-boo), Boy, Little Man, Mr. Man, Little Lamb, String Bean and Sweet Boy.  As he has gotten older (and more adventurous/WILD AND CRAZY) he has become King Kong the Climber, Wild Boy, Monkey Man and Tuffy Toughskin.  We also call him Joodle, Joodlebop, Jujubee, Judie and the Dream of Horses and sometimes just Judie.

Pearl Littlejohn

Before there was Jude and Gigi there was Pearl.  Just like my other children, I knew this one’s gender early on.  I have to rely on my mother’s intuition with her because she was just a little grain of sand who turned in my womb for a mere six weeks before coming into the world too early on October 7th, 2002.  She brought us the hope of a family and the opportunity to know the love we had in store for our future children while we were able to nurture her for such a short time.  She is named Pearl for Bradley’s grandmother whose name is Alouise Pearl and because she was so tiny, so precious.  She remains in Bellingham, buried under the magnolia tree in a tiny Disneyland jewelery box because she’ll never get to go.  Every year on her birthday we think of her and the gift she brought to us with her short life: hope.  Incidentally, Gigi’s due date was October 7th exactly one year later.  I took that as the most perfect sign that Gigi would come into this world perfect.  She did.  Four and a half years later Jude did too.

*note* in this picture the foreground is Gigi at about 2 years.   In the background is the Magnolia tree.

Posted on 07.18.09 to Tamara. Grab the feed. No comments yet. Comment or trackback from your own site.

Quickies

Blogworthy

We grown-ups spent the evening in seperate rooms writing and then came together on the sofa to share our blog entries and laugh.   En route to a good finale there was a Panini Bar by chef Tamara, a playdate for Gigi with friend Kylee, a near miss for Jude as he played the role of jack tumbling down the hill towards a pond of fetid water, a botched reprisal of the Otter Pop Store (in which no Otter Pops were sold), Jude’s first authentically joyful experience with a paddling pool, and Martha and Bradley were assaulted by a goose who has taken up ownership of the pond and trail at Mill Creek.

Posted on 07.17.09 to Quickies. Grab the feed. No comments yet. Comment or trackback from your own site.

Bradley, Earful

Six Pack of Summer

Just for posterity’s sake, I thought that I would lay down some notes on the  albums of my summer (since no one besides my posterior cares what I am listening to… well my ears care… and my heart… and head… but they are all invested in my posterior… and posterity for posterity’s sake).

Ahem.

I just remember driving across the trestle from Everett to Marysville in 1997 and the Sundays’ Static & Silence had just come out.  Tamara & I had just moved to Bellingham and things seemed freshly laundered and crisply laid out.  That was an anthemic summer album for me… although it was released in the fall.  To me, it IS driving North. That album defines a portion of time to me and it is always fun when that happens.

This year there are some contenders for summer album.  A six pack exists at the moment, the first of which being Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear.  Coming off of a flirtation with the Fleet Foxes my ears were primed for what I found contained therein.  The album sounds like it is pouring out of a tin can that used to contain peaches in heavy syrup… the mixture still clinging to the ribs of the can as the noise filters out.  Everything I read compares them to Animal Collective and points out the Pet Sounds pedigree yadda yadda.  I hear lots of Disneyana and the Cocteau Twins sent away to summer camp.  They break into a music hall, dust off the modge podge of instruments and belt some tunes from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young catalog while standing beneath a poor taxidermized moose on the dusty bear skin rug…  get it!  I full circled to the image of a grizzly bear… I am just good like that.  I like this album a lot although I like it as a whole and not for any one or two bits.

The other newcomer to my sonic paint palette is Deerhoof.  In my ignorance and uncouth desire to parent and live I somehow grew up stunted and ignorant of the San Francisco treat’s existence.  I love to let things grow on me and they do just that.  they are difficult.  Challenging.  In some ways they are awfull.  Which is exactly why they are such a good use of my time.  I cannot ignore them when they are playing and I can’t tick them apart and leave them in the trash bin the way so many artists can be easily deconstructed.  I look forward to building our new house with some Deerhoof action going on.

I fell back in love with Sonic Youth with the Eternal and hope that we have finally made up and can go on being intimate.  I know I like this album because everytime I hear Sonic Youth I am reminded of my classic blunder upon meeting Kim Gordon during the Dirty tour.  She stared at me all icy and detached as I asked if Lee Renaldo hadn’t lived in Seattle some years ago.  “No.”  she replied.  For some reason I followed this up with a rephrasing of the question which only served to bury her interest in me even further.  UGH.  Personally I like to slough the blame for Kim Gordon’s opinion of me as a Seattle-centric grungish dweeb upon Rocket magazine;  to this day I can vividly recall reading this little factiod in the pulpy pages and had hoped to score an in-road to conversation with my stalker creepy inner knowledge of Sonic Youth’s members.

Anyway.

You know the Sonic Youth album has to be good for me to overcome visceral shame to push play.  The Eternal retouches on all things cool about Sonic Youth.  Reference the Deerhoof  comments to this album as well since the band has returned to the atonality and interesting structures that used to cajole me to listen to their fuzz and disonance in spite of the fact that I generally despise fuzz and disonance.  Every review says best disc since Daydream Nation and I wholeheartedly agree… For me it is like Goo without the cool album cover and “Cool Thing”.

I didn’t know that Death Cab had an EP on the docket but I stumbled upon a stereogum link to the video for the single.  It is fun.  It has the same slick sound that Plans featured, which is not a bad thing in my book.  Narrow Stairs was turned into Plans Part Two by all the reviewers, but to me it was a much different product.  This EP sounds like Narrow Stairs never happened… which is neither a good nor bad thing to me, but it is strange that the band I most closely identify with dcfc has almost the same narrative in reverse: ( how is that for a segue?)

The Hazards of Love came out before summer, but I just picked it up.  The Decemberists threw this whopper out on the table after a string of fun singles that were solid and lovely and built upon the momentum of songwriterly goodness that was Crane Wife.  (That was the wind-up, the part where I draw my fist back and then sock them in the eye.) POW!  I have the toughest time listening to Hazards.  I almost HATE IT because I care so much about them.  It is great that the band is stretching out, but I am not happy listening to it.  The prog in their prog-rock needs to be prodded.  The folk in their folkiness needs a fork stuck in it.  I include it here simply because I love them so dearly and I have pried my ears open even as they have sought to close themselves tight to escape the uncomfortable disappointment of hearing the album I was most eager to hear.  Kim Gordon isn’t even in this band and I feel like I have to overcome something to play it.

The disc that has taken hold of the “album of the summer” reins and has repeatedly beaten me with said reins like a sad pony is Day & Night by The Killers.  It is embarrassing and I don’t fully know why.  Like Keane, the band seems to build their albums specifically so that I will like them and that feels confectionery.  I guess I prefer a more medicinal quality to my music:  “take two tracks a day and it will broaden your horizons… and call me if you start having those Kim Gordon chest pains again.”

But the album is pretty well stacked with identifiable hooks and familiarities to the aural landscape of my formative years.  In short, if Modern English’s “Melt With You” brings back fond memories of something other than Burger King, then this album will be a fountain of youth.  I feel pangs of cool and uncool simultaneously when driving solo with the windows down and sun pouring into my daddy wagon as Brandon croons “Are you human, or are you dancer?”.

I am with you Mr Flowers, and I think I am defiantly dancer.

Posted on 07.17.09 to Bradley, Earful. Grab the feed. No comments yet. Comment or trackback from your own site.