Rachel Callahan

The Latest on the Greatest Show on Earth.

February 1, 2011February 1, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Football and I have a Complicated Relationship, I'm a Glutton for Adventure, Kids: The Experience.

As of Friday night, Chris and I officially earned our Mommy (and Daddy) Scouts Badge for “Taking two kids, one that is under six weeks old, to the Circus, not getting home until 11pm, and living to tell about it.”

And it was worth it – even the ridiculously priced light-up spinning toy souvenir that had offshooting and equally spinning appendages that couldn’t wait for the opportunity to accidentally slap a parent in the face with their pointy stars or, worse yet, an infant baby brother.

But besides the injuries I sustained from those sadistic spinning stars, I was immediately jealous on my state’s behalf of the opening National Anthem performance.

The flag was brought in on an elephant, and circled majestically around the arena.

SO jealous.

Do you have ANY IDEA how much more interesting Alabama football would be for me if we actually got a REAL elephant mascot on field?? I’ve been pining for one since my first football season, way back last century in 1999!!

(Although I slept through most of the games that year since I didn’t even know what a first down was, so maybe I was dreaming about that elephant instead of pining after it, but nevertheless…)

I mean really, how much could an Elephant cost? If Nick Saban can get a $200,000 bonus for winning the 2009 National Championship, SURELY we can afford an Elephant! And THEN, Auburn could get a Tiger with their 2010 National Championship spoils, and our state would rock!!

(And be full of PETA protesters.)

AND if Alabama also adopted my idea of Houndsturf, it’d help hide all of the unsightly piles of Elephant Poo!!

(Until a player slipped in one… but that’d just add an extra element of difficulty for the opponents.)

I certainly mean no offense to Big Al or anything,

but what’s a football team without a real, live mascot?!?

But I digress. Back to the Circus.

Ali’s favorite act were the tightrope walker/runners – yes they ran – and with no net underneath:

My favorite were the guys who ran, jumped, jumped rope, and jumped back and forth onto each other’s metal rings as they circled ‘round and ‘round,

And Chris’ choice of favorite goes to the hilariously awkward strong men…

Who checked out each other’s butts from all of their unsightly angles,

and lifted each other in whoa-I-really-didn’t-want-to-see-your-spandex-panties ballet moves.

Besides the National Anthem Elephant, they had about ten more of the magnificent creatures, but only one of them was special enough to have a tramp stamp on either side of it’s hinder.

Or, as Ali called them, “Bum Stars”.

Bum Star, of course, was Ali’s favorite elephant.

Hopefully, Bum Star won’t be a foretelling of Ali’s future tattoo choices.

My observations of the Circus were:

I was amazed at how, even though I hadn’t been in well over 20 years, the acts are basically the same – just with moderned-up wardrobes.
In my world of social-media-lengthed attention span (140 characters or less), the buildup, drama, and length of the individual acts seemed a bit long to me. I apparently need a Twitter-Lengthed Circus.

Chris’ Observation was:

It was like watching “America’s Got Talent” – only live, and with scores of people employed as animal-pooper-scoopers.

Ali’s observation:

It totally rocked. Every second of it.

Noah’s Observation:

Waaaah, Sleep, Waaaaah.

And when we left, I was thrilled to leave my first mini under the seats, just like everyone else at football games do:

Oh. Enfamil minis are a bit different than Jack Daniels minis, huh?

(Yes, I’m too shy to breastfeed in public, even with my super-duper hooter-hider.)

…But back to football.

If the Circus can afford 10 of them, I am CERTAIN the University of Alabama can afford one.

…although she might have a Bum Star or two. But as long as it’s not a Tiger Paw Print, I think we’re good.

A Few of My (New) Favorite Things.

January 30, 2011July 13, 2011 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore., I'm a Blog Geek, Kids: The Experience., Shopping: A Girl's Best Friend, Stuff I like

Thanks to Christmas, new babyness, and other events lately, I’ve run into a few cool new things that are making my daily life easier and more fun.

(And, for the record, I was not asked to promote any of these items, nor do the companies mentioned know that I’m writing about them, They just rock and I wanted to share in case any of them might be helpful to you, as well.)

The Eye-Fi SD Card

I got my “big girl camera” (a DSLR) back in November – I ended up getting the Canon T2i , which has been absolutely amazing. One of the features built into it was the ability to use an Eye-Fi Card. This memory card has wi-fi capabilities, which means that as soon as I take a picture (if I’m at home or in a wi-fi hotspot), it transmits it to the correct folder on my computer. And if I’m not within wi-fi range when I take the photo, it waits and transmits it when I am. Also, it keeps all photos on a website for 30 days, so if I’m away from my computer, I can still get to them!

It may not sound like a big deal, but it is absolutely FABULOUS to not have to upload photos anymore! I knew it would be great, but it is more efficient than I dreamed it would be.

****************

The Hot Dots Learning System

I happened upon Schoolhouse Educational Supply in Vestavia the other day, and loved it! They had super creative toys, educational games, and school supplies – much better than any other store I’ve found in Birmingham. However, I was sad that they are planning on closing (if no one buys them out) at the end of February. Everything in the store is 30% off, so I stocked up on school supplies for Ali – it’s definitely worth a visit if you’re local.

One of the coolest things I found was the Hot Dots Learning System(which, by the way, Schoolhouse is already out of the pens, but you can get them on Amazon).

The Hot Dots pen is just like Ali’s Leapfrog Tag Reader pen (which she also loves and I highly recommend as well) in that you touch the page with the electronic pen and it interacts with you. In the case of Hot Dots, it tells you if you have the right answer or not. They can be used with a ton of different types of learning cards at many different age levels. I bought the Telling Time , Counting Money , Phonics , Addition , and Subtraction cards.

Ali absolutely loves them! And the best part is, she can do most of them on her own (no reading required) – it’s a great way for her to be entertained AND learning when I can’t give her my full attention.

****************

The Total Baby App for the iPhone

I SERIOUSLY don’t know how I managed to raise Ali as a baby without this app.

Well, actually I do – remember the craziness of The Notebook?

OH MY GOODNESS this app is so much better – and, scarily enough, tracks even more stuff – in more detail – than I did in my ridiculously OCD notebook.

The app is $4.99, but it is worth every penny if you have trouble remembering when you last fed your baby like I do. It has awesomely simple start and stop buttons, wonderful (albeit at times TOO detailed) descriptions, and it even has the official percentile growth charts loaded in, so you can see your baby’s percentiles anytime you get a measurement!

I wrote a full review of this app at Practical iStuff – check it out for more details and photos!

****************

The Melissa and Doug Fashion Sticker Collection

Ali AND I love these. In fact, Chris has noticed my obsession and accused me of being in Project Runway withdrawals. I do miss my friend Tim Gunn…

We’ve been using these sticker sets as “reward fun” after doing school, and even though Ali likes school anyway, the motivation of getting to do a fashion portfolio helps her school excitement even more.

They’re basically paper dolls, except that they’re stickers – which, even though they’re one-time use, I HIGHLY prefer to paper dolls, because those paper doll tabs drive me CRAZY. Plus, these are only $4.99, and you get 80 girls to dress – which will last us a while.

(Although I’ve already ordered us more, because as I said, we’re kinda obsessed with them.)

I’ve also snuck in a bit of extra school with the fun by asking Ali if she wants to name her girls after finishing their wardrobes. She excitedly writes their creative (and also very Tinkerbell-influenced) names on the sheet, thereby practicing her letters:

Etta, Rosetta, Party, Sovies, Jammy Party, Sophie, Silvermist and Tink.

Great Etta, Vidia, Fawn, and Elvermist.

There are 10 different sets of clothes with 8 girls for each set, and you can mix and match the outfits to your heart’s content:

…and for some reason, according to Ali, whichever girl is wearing the orange panties always has to go last.

There are some things that the world will never understand.

****************

And finally, my favoritest of my new favorite things…

…But you can’t buy that kind of cuteness on Amazon.

Build-A-Bear Workshop Valentine’s Giveaway!

January 28, 2011January 27, 2011 Rachel Callahan Giveaways and Contests

Build-A-Bear Workshop has an adorable new lineup for Valentine’s Day. They include Love Bears and Love Bugs:

They, of course, have a whole collection of coordinating outfits and accessories, or you can pick your own from their oodles of regular extras.

They sent Ali a gift card to come make a Valentine’s Friend, and of course she was more than happy to oblige! When I told her that we were going to Build-A-Bear, she immediately gave me an entire run-down of every time we’ve ever gone there, what “friend” she made, and all about the entire process of creating her friends. Obviously, Build-A-Bear makes an impression on her!

She chose to make a Love Bear and got creative with her outfit, choosing her current favorite character, Tinkerbell’s dress:

(She also got her a pair of pink panties, but that’d be slightly improper to photograph – Build-A-Bears are MUCH more modest and proper than those Toilet-Paper-Covered-Backside-Charmin’-Bears, after all.)

Ali was thrilled with the entire process – from picking out the clothes, getting her stuffed, creating her new friend’s birth certificate, and getting her dressed in the “dressing room”.

And, in case you wondered, her new bear’s whole name is “Heart Bear Tinkerbell Sovies”.

(I’m not sure where the last name “Sovies” came from, but I totally expect Heart Bear to have a Russian Accent when she learns to talk.)

If you’d like to make your own Build-A-Bear, I have a $25 Gift Certificate for one lucky winner! Just comment on this post to be entered.

You can earn up to four extra entries by:

Following Build-A-Bear Workshops on Facebook OR Twitter
Tweet, blog, OR Facebook about this giveaway
Subscribe to OR Follow my blog
Follow me on Twitter OR Facebook

(be sure to leave separate comments for your extra entries.)

Best of luck! This giveaway is open until Monday, February 7th. The winner will be randomly selected and posted on my giveaway winners page on Tuesday, February 8th.

Disclosure: Ali received a $25 gift card to be able to review the product, but my opinions are always my own, as are Ali’s. And believe me – she’s QUITE opinionated.

Circus in the Dark Ages.

January 27, 2011January 26, 2011 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Just My Luck, Storytime

I bought tickets for the Circus on Monday – in anticipation of taking Ali for the first time ever.

I bought them online – of course. I asked around on twitter until I found the best discount code (which, by the way, if you haven’t gotten tickets and plan to, use the discount code “JUGGLE” – it saves 50%!!!), used the nifty ordering system, told it what I wanted, paid, and printed out my tickets all in the matter of a few minutes.

Which, of course, is nothing especially notable in these wonderfully modern times.

But it took me back to my most vivid childhood memory of the circus…

We used to go each year, and it was one of those events that we looked forward to all year long – almost as much as our birthdays. It was just awesome. But, of course, in those ancient days known as the 80’s, there was no internet. And so, as archaic as it sounds, if you wanted to buy tickets beforehand, you actually had to drive 20 minutes downtown to the Civic Center ticket office and buy them.

Bizarre, ay?

AND there was no Twitter to find awesome coupon codes!!

Seriously. How DID our parents survive? Thank GOODNESS for Civilization as we know it.

Well, the particularly fateful year that I remember, my Mom took all three of us kids with her to purchase tickets – her own three-ring circus. There was the drive, then the long walk from the downtown parking lot to the ticket booth, and then the long line to buy tickets in that ugly, bland, concrete building with nothing to interest three energetic kids…

And, apparently, throughout all of that ridiculously laborious process, us kids were whining, arguing, and, in general, acting like the cavemen-children that you would expect to exist in such an anciently dark-age era.

And so, just as it was almost our turn at the ticket window, we apparently reached the limit of unacceptability.

And so, my Mom turned to us and calmly told us our consequences.

There would be NO circus tickets purchased – we’d blown it.

Of course, we immediately grew the most wonderful of Angelic Halos and began to beg her most sweetly to please reconsider her harsh (albeit deserved) judgment upon us.

But no – consequences were consequences, and we would not be attending the circus that year – she’d had quite enough of our circus, thankyouverymuch.

I remember that year’s non-circus trip better than any other actual circus event, and you better believe that I behaved myself when big things were being purchased for my benefit from that day forward.

And so, the moral of this story is…

I was an incorrigibly bratty kid.

Carefully chosen painful consequences stick with kids and teach them to behave in the future.

The internet and it’s efficient and quick purchasing abilities is the best thing that ever happened to kids!!!

You Know You’re a MOM when…

January 26, 2011January 25, 2011 Rachel Callahan Blogging: the therapy., Every Now and Then I Can Be Sappy Too., Kids: The Experience., Newbornities

The events depicted are real events that happened to the author in much-too-recent memory – no actors were ~~harmed~~ used in the creation of this post.

…You’re hungry enough that you’d rather hold your baby and eat – while smelling dirty diaper – than risk waking them to freshen up their backside.

…You notice people looking at your cleavage, then look down and realize that it’s because you have a stream of baby puke running through it.

…You’re so sleep deprived that you put your purse down in the sink of a public restroom – one of those motion sensor sinks – and watch with horror as it fills up with water for at least three full seconds before your brain kicks in enough to rescue it.

…THEN you instinctively dump it’s contents onto the thankfully-cleanish tile floor, and watch in even more horror as your formerly dry iPhone lands in a puddle of water.

…Right after changing one of THOSE newborn diapers, you’re able to go fix yourself a sandwich – and put spicy mustard on it – without thinking twice about the similarities therein.

…You actually find yourself alone in the car, but it takes you 30 minutes to realize that you’re listening to “Silly Songs” on the CD player.

…You can eat leftovers of the meal that you cleaned up in kid-vomit for eight hours straight the night before.

…You don’t REALLY consider your shirt in need of washing until it has endured the complete Trifecta of infant-bodily-fluids.

…Even after one of THOSE days of inconsolable screaming, nap-resisting, puke, and general discontent of one or more children, all it takes is one look into their eyes to know, without a doubt, that every bit of it is not just all worth it, but it’s a privilege.

Common Crazy and The Talking Breast Pump.

January 24, 2011July 21, 2020 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., It's Tough Being a Girl, Newbornities, Pop Post, Popular Posts, Weird Strange and True

There’s a phenomenon in life that I’ll call The Common Crazy. The Common Crazy are all of the things that the majority of us do or think, but are afraid to admit to, because we think we might be the only ones who do or think them, and therefore, everyone else will TOTALLY think we’re crazy.

Like, for instance, picking our nose (c’mon, we all have to do it sometimes), or not being able to automatically tell our left from our right (I thought I was the only one with this problem for YEARS).

And, even if we are nearly positive that something is a Common Crazy, there are those people in the world that would rather die than admit to a C.C., so if you make the mistake of admitting YOUR C.C. to them, they will, of course, make you feel as crazy as possible.

(I’m sure there’s a nose-picking-denier out there somewhere that is just DYING to comment that they do not EVER pick their nose.)

And, the Common Crazy I’d like to talk about today is The Phenomenon of The Talking Breast Pump.

(Yes, I’m sure that all of you guy readers (like, all three of you) are horrifically uncomfortable with this subject right now. But I PROMISE you that your discomfort is ridiculously miniscule compared to the discomfort that the item in question brings us ladies.)

It all started in November when I wrote a post about another Common Crazy, Phantom Baby (the phenomenon of hearing screaming babies when babies aren’t actually screaming). Many more people than I expected commented in to agree that they, too, have experienced Phantom Baby, but one of my readers, Lori, was even braver than that:

Lori T November 24, 2010 at 11:20 pmAs I was reading this, Lydia started crying. I checked the video monitor, and she was definitely sound asleep. Creepy. Oh, also, my breast pump talks to me. How’s that for crazy!

I had worked so hard to repress all of my breast pump memories from Ali’s babyhood – the pain, the unbelievable time consumption, the visual of being a cow on a dairy farm…

But Lori’s comment immediately took me back to that era, and I totally remembered that rhythmic sound of the motor, chanting random phrases while abusing me mercilessly.

…And, the freakiest part of all – I remembered that the breast pump has a MALE voice.

(Because when we’re hooked up to THAT sadistic device is when we all want anonymous men chanting at us.)

I answered Lori and asked if she was talking about the rhythmic motor chanting, and she confirmed that yes, indeed, her pump chanted things like “Come home, come home, come home”, or “Shut the door, shut the door, shut the door.”

And so I knew. This was a Common Crazy. Or at least common between Lori and I.

After Noah was born, I enacted a policy of active avoidance of my pump if at all possible, but, unfortunately, it’s one of those things you can’t entirely hide from.

And, sure enough, that man is still trapped inside my pump motor.

I of course had to email Lori to report my pump’s secret messages (since I knew she’d accept and affirm my Crazy)…

“Today it said, ‘All that we need, all that we need, all that we need…’, and then it morphed into ‘Waldorf Queen, Waldorf Queen, Waldorf Queen…’!”

Lori responded that her pump had, that same day, been telling her, “Need new friends, need new friends, need new friends…”

(Obviously, Lori’s device is a bit more bossy, as well as being slightly ruder, than my more cryptic PumpMan.)

It just seems that IF the pump is going to INSIST on talking while working, it could say more encouraging things… like…

“You rock, you rock, you rock…”

or,

“Sorry for torturing you, sorry for torturing you, sorry for torturing you…”

or, even better,

“Now you’ll be able to leave your kid with the grandparents, now you’ll be able to leave your kid with the grandparents, now you’ll be able to leave your kid with the grandparents…”

So.. how about it? Are you going to admit to this Common Crazy?

(You know you’ve heard it!)

Or call Lori and I delusional-Moms-in-desperate-need-of-more-sleep?

(You obviously didn’t torture yourself often enough!)

Or, has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?

(In which case your curiosity just might get the best of you and make you pull that dusty old pump out, turn it on, and see what HE has to say to you.)

I have a feeling that I know what he’s going to say to me tomorrow…

“Crazy oversharing blogger, crazy oversharing blogger, crazy oversharing blogger…”

Who Needs Imaginary Friends to do Your Dirty Work?

January 21, 2011January 21, 2011 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Just My Luck, Kids: The Experience., Parent of the Year

One of the first questions that everyone has asked me about our transition-to-two-kids is, “So how is Ali taking it?”

And, since Future-15-Year-Old-Ali is feeling pretty indignant and forgotten due to my lack of blogging-record of her life lately (thanks to an influx of posts about pregnancy and childbirth), I figured it was time to throw her a bone.

Err, a post.

Anyway.

Ali.

To answer the question, she’s adjusting fairly well. Or at least, she’s not trying to flush Noah down the toilet or mail him to Bangladesh, so I will call that success.

She has, however, felt the need to express her feelings with the help of a third party.

And that third party happens to be her tummy.

I don’t know why she picked her tummy to be her evil alter-ego over any other perfectly fine body part, but at any rate, her tummy has quite the attitude.

(All while Ali stays pristinely innocent, of course.)

It goes like this…

I tell Ali to do something, and she wanders off to the other side of the room, with her back to me.

I see her pull her shirt up, and in a quiet, sweet voice, ask, “What did you say?”

Then I hear an angry, bitter, apparently-struggling-with-a-bit-of-new-sibling-adjustment voice say, “NO!!”

She puts her shirt down, turns around, and says, “I would, but my tummy says ‘NO!’”

“Well, then, you need to tell your tummy to be wise and obey your Mommy.”

She turns back around, lifts her shirt, and quietly says, “You need to be wise and obey my Mommy.”

“NO!”

Shirt down, turns around.. “My tummy doesn’t know how to be wise, because it doesn’t have a tummy-Mommy or a tummy-Daddy to teach it to be wise.”

“Well, then, your tummy needs to quit talking until it can learn to be nice.”

Tummy has worked up a rap-sheet of being defiant at bedtime, mealtimes, and has been intensely desirous of getting it’s way – especially when I’m tied up with nursing Noah.

And, although obedience is always achieved, no matter how many times Ali tells Tummy (nicely, of course) to shut it’s Big Tummy Mouth, it always seems to need to have the last word.

Every now and then, Tummy will have a change of heart. After Ali (and, I suppose, Tummy), woke up from their nap yesterday, Ali informed me excitedly, “My tummy has gotten a little nicer!! Would you like to talk to it again?”

Unfortunately, it didn’t take Tummy long to backslide into it’s Foolish Tummy Ways.

So, in light of Ali’s Tummy Problems (and resulting discipline that naturally occurs when you have a disobedient Tummy), I decided to try a bit of positive reinforcement, as well. On Monday, Ali and Tummy had a perfectly delightful morning, so I decided to let them skip their nap and go to a birthday party with my Mom.

Of course, I made an astronomically HUGE deal out of the privilege of skipping nap and going to a party as being a reward for having a happy heart (and Tummy) all day long, hoping to further encourage Tummy’s developing maturity.

Ali was thrilled, enjoyed the party immensely, and seemed to have REALLY responded to the positive reinforcement.

I, of course, was ridiculously proud of my brilliance in coming up with the idea to turn the party-attendance into a reward, and couldn’t wait to brag to Chris about my top-notch parenting.

And, to prove to him what a FABULOUS impact that I made on our child, I asked her about it in front of him.

“Ali, tell Daddy why you got to go to the party with Gramamma today!”

“To make biscuits!”

(No biscuits were made in the attendance of that party.)

“Umm…no… Let me be more specific. What did you DO to EARN the reward of getting to go to the party?”

“GUMMIES!!!”

(No gummies were had in the attendance of that party.)

“WHAT??”

“GUMMIES!!”

“Ali. Why did Mommy let you go to the party?!?!?!?!”

“GUM-MIES!!!!!”

Obviously, Chris was unbelievably impressed with the impact I had made on our child.

…and I think I’ll stick to being proud of my parenting just because of the fact that Tummy hasn’t tried to flush, or Bangladeshian Airmail, Noah.

Yet.

On How to Diaper a Newborn.

January 19, 2011January 20, 2011 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Boy Child = Bizarre., Newbornities

Fact of the Day: Newborn Diapering is a completely different pooventure than diapering an older baby.

And, although many pre-baby people have changed a diaper at some point in their life, chances are, they haven’t had the privilege of changing a NEWBORN’S diaper.

Or, maybe you’re post-baby, but you’ve just forgotten some of the intricacies of the procedure.

Because I certainly had.

And so, for those who have yet to have kids or need a refresher course, there are a few things that you might want to know…

~ If, while changing a diaper, you find yourself changing a wet diaper only (which, by the way, doesn’t happen very often), DO NOT BE PLEASANTLY SURPRISED – be very afraid. It’s coming, it’s coming soon, and it’s coming for you.

~ If, while having a diaper open, you either hear, smell, or see (yes, see!!) infant gaseousness, treat this like Westley (aka The Dread Pirate Roberts) did when hearing the popping noise in the fire swamp – move quickly and protect yourself – it’s probably a forewarning of an impending geyser of mustardy fiery swampiness.

~ Mustardy fire can travel very long distances and cover an unbelievable amount of surfaces with it’s shrapnel in under a tenth of a second. For an example of the heights and depths of it’s reach, read this awesomely horrific account of such an incident from This is The Day.

~ If you find yourself under fire, DO NOT SHOW YOUR PANIC – it can upset the subject, causing more outbursts of gaseousness, which will, in turn, reset the fire swamp phenomenon.

~ If waking a newborn and immediately changing their diaper, wait until they completely finish their stretching routine before opening the diaper. Stretching causes gaseousness, and gaseousness leads to…well, we’ve already covered that.

~ Sadly enough and much to my disappointment, boys do not actually have less crevices to clean during a HAZMAT Cleanup than girls. Although my husband assures me that as baby boys become more anatomically proportionate, their situation will become less crevicy. I certainly hope he’s right.

~ Cleaning out crevices must be done as quickly as humanly possible – and perhaps as quickly as inhumanly possible. The risk of unprotected explosion during crevice cleanout is a Code Red Danger.

~ If, while holding a newborn, you find yourself hearing (and possibly feeling) from their hinder the most wet, splattery, explosive sound that you’ve ever heard, your first reaction will be to jump up and hold the baby away from you, just KNOWING that you’ve just been completely plastered in poo. However, this is one unfounded fear – the sound effects are MUCH worse than the product. You will be amazed when, upon opening said diaper, there is mysteriously little evidence for the incredible nuclear explosions that you just thought that you witnessed.

~ You may find yourself aghast at the manners of a newborn, as they tend to find the most delightful time to poo is WHILE they are eating. But do not dismay – they DO learn a bit more couth. Very soon, they will simply stop eating for a second, scrunch up their faces, poo explosively, and then quite satisfiedly go straight back to eating.

~ You, however, may find your appetite completely missing.

As this post is ONLY meant to be helpful (and not at all to frighten people away from having babies, ruin anyone’s lunch, or make anyone feel the least bit queasy), feel free to add your own advice as well!

Awkward Starts Early.

January 18, 2011January 18, 2011 Rachel Callahan I embarrass myself just for your amusement., Just My Luck, Newbornities, Parent of the Year, This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Utter Silliness

All of us have multiple awkward stages in our lives.

(At least I think we do – if you’ve been the perfect Barbie-Cheerleader all your life, well, I hate you lucky you.)

But the rest of us … have had at least a couple.

I certainly had a few myself…

Some brought on by my fur-like Greek Eyebrows and not-nearly-as-dark-as-it-should-be-to-go-with-the-eyebrows Mediterranean skin..

Some brought on by horrific early-90’s fashion…

And some brought on by my Mother’s more…creative side.

Ali had her first awkward stage at around 5 weeks old.

The poor girl had Junior High Acne problems and Old Man hair problems all in her infantile stage:

And now, at four weeks old, Noah has officially hit his first Awkward Stage.

(Not to say that he isn’t completely adorable despite his awkwardity by any means.)

But.

His baby acne is outta control, and since baby acne heals and regrows faster than kudzu, it’s constellation pattern changes daily…

His hairline is beginning to recede, certainly foretelling an impending loss of baby hair in awkward patchyness…

And his eyebrows – well, they’re still completely nonexistent.

Poor kid.

He’s tried out several coping mechanisms to deal with his awkward appearance and resulting self-consciousness…

Aggression..

Melancholy Meanderings…

Addictive Behaviors…

Feigned Indifference…

Fit Pitching…

And Cross-eyed Confusion.

(Not to be confused with Cross-eyed Pooing.)

But despite all of his reactions, I’m just happy that he’s handling it with a little more politeness than his sister did.

The Princesses of the States, 2011 Edition.

January 16, 2011January 16, 2011 Rachel Callahan "Deep" Thoughts by Rachel, A Day in the Life, It's Tough Being a Girl, This is TONGUE IN CHEEK People - Don't take me Seriously., Weird Strange and True

As always, Ali and I had to watch Miss America last night, also known as “The Princesses of the States” – which were thankfully much more classy Princesses than the last pageant we watched.

Besides my fast forwarding through the unbelievably-looking-like-bra-and-panties swimsuit competition (really, there ARE ways to make bathing suits so that they don’t look like lingerie), Ali, as always, enjoyed the Princesses.

As did I.

From the very beginning when they all introduced themselves, it was high quality entertainment.

“From the largest producer of Ethanol, my state gives you gas!! I’m Miss Iowa!!”

Classy, honey.

“From the state with the most Dunkin’ Donuts per capita, I’m Miss Rhode Island!!”

“From the state that touches more states than any other, but never inappropriately, I’m Miss Wyoming!!”

(Which, by the way, Miss Wyoming needed to do her research – Wyoming touches six other states, while Tennessee and Missouri each touch EIGHT other states. Even Ali could have helped her with that fact..)

There were a few other introductions that were notable…

The cheesiest: “From the state that means colored red, I’m tickled pink to be here!! I’m Miss Colorado!”

The most ironic: “From the home of the Biggest Loser, I’m Miss Mississippi!!”

The You-Coulda-Surely-Thought-of-a-Better-State-Characteristic-Than-That: “From the state that brought you everyone’s favorite store, Target, I’m Miss Minnesota!!”

There were, of course, other moments of awesomeness, such as when they asked all of the women, in their matching-teeniny-barely-covering-their-butts-silver-mini-dresses to sit on the couches on the stage, which all of two of them obeyed, while the rest stood around awkwardly trying to figure out how to manage to do such a thing without flashing America in Britney-Spears-Getting-Out-Of-A-Limo fashion, and Miss Oklahoma’s quote from the interview portion, “EVERYONE can be Miss America in how they conduct themselves everyday!” (which thrilled Chris to the core – that even HE could be Miss America!!!), but the best moment of the night was Miss Arkansas’ talent.

Oh yes, she did ventriloquistically YODEL during her hit number, “I Wanna Be a Cowboy Sweetheart.”

AND, with a talent like that, who could blame the judges for awarding her the title of first runner-up??

Ultimately, though, I made sure that Ali understood that there are TWO ways to get to the Miss America competition.

You can either go the “Toddlers and Tiaras” way, complete with spray tanned babies and getting your eyebrows waxed at the age of five…

OR you can become a geeky accountant like your Mommy, get a job with Ernst and Young, and be an official Miss America scoring tabulator.

And, if I know my daughter, she will choose geekily counting things over eyebrow waxing ANY day.