Thug Life

Henry wakes up in his poop diaper and rolls over out of the covers, the nightlight glow upon his face. Pretty soon he pulls himself up the slats of his crib and looks around with his sleepy eyes.

Pop.

He lays a little left jab on Piglet’s cheek, and Piglet flips this way and that, the whole mobile shaking along with him.

One left jab and Piglet and Winnie and Tigger, and the sad donkey, I forget his name, but one shot from my boy and they’re all running for cover.

Strong kid, huh?

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Help a Scraggly Sister Out

This house we're renting doesn't have a shower, it has a claw foot tub from, like, the 1890s, which sounds romantic, I know. But listen, I've shaved my legs exactly twice since the house fire because I just can't get warm in the damn thing. Do you know how much water it takes to fill a humongous claw foot tub even just a few inches? So I'm always sitting there shivering and I'll be damned if I can figure out how to shave with goosebumps the size of golf balls.

We're working on getting a shower installed in the tub but, in the meantime, I've kind of avoided the bathroom. Another bathroom-related dilemma? Much of this house, built in 1890-something, has knob and tube wiring, which, if you aren't In The Know, is basically what they used to wire houses pretty immediately after Ben Franklin flew the kite. The sole socket in the bathroom is not capable of handling the wattage of even your most basic hair dryer. New haircut + no hair dryer = me not looking in the mirror pretty much ever because why do that to myself? I just like to roam around this new town we live in punishing everyone who has to look at me. WHEEEE!

Let us review, shall we? Tub ain't cutting it, can't really fix my hair and pretty much no desire to give a shit. Which isn't the greatest of timing for this Babble assignment I accepted before the house fire. Basically, they want me to buy seven beauty products. Whatever I want. Lipstick, eyeshadow, false eyelashes, hair wax... whatever! And then try out the products and showcase the results with photos.

Yes, exactly what I want to do: take photos of my Peppermint Patty football bangs hair and show them to you. But then again, maybe this is exactly the pick-me-up I need to get going again? I dunno. What I do know is that I have absolutely no idea what to buy and try. What's hip? What're all The Kids doing? I'd like to maybe try some fake eyelashes because they seem fun and my eyelashes are straighter than the apparent stick jammed up sweater vest Rick Santorum's ass. Maybe a red lipstick? A bronzing type item to do some skin shading? I'm also interested in finding a really good concealer, because, you know, I look dead most of the time and a jazzy, little concealer might help the people at Walmart to recognize that yes, I am indeed alive and I would like someone to ring up my goods!

Yes, basically I need to look nice for that weekly trip to Walmart. God, isn't life grand?

Can you help me? What is the must-have product in your beauty arsenal? Do you have a beauty arsenal? Is there a mascara, lip gloss or lipstick color you swear by? Some kind of hair treatment conditioner item? What products do you absolutely, positively recommend? Can be any item, any brand.

Handsome Devil

This mischievous little sucker keeps us on our toes all day long but damn if he isn't an honest to goodness delight. His big sister is still trying to kill him and because of that I am utterly amazed at what a knocking baby noggins can take. Her favorite maneuver is to palm his head as he sits pleasantly playing and swipe it to the ground like she just made a touchdown and is celebrating by spiking the football. Poor fella. He's gotten short shrift around these parts lately, but that's gonna change starting now! This photo was taken a couple months ago but his grin is so delicious I absolutely had to post.

The Painted Father

These paintings really got to me. Especially this one:



Dads, even the short ones, have a way of looming large in our eyes when we are very young, no? Click here to read and view The Painted Father over on Dadding. It'll only take you a minute or two and you won't be disappointed, I promise.

It's What They Do

_{Violet was right where that large pile of rubble is when I found her standing near the flames.}

One of the first things firefighters did upon entering our house was attempt to throw tarps on everything they could see. I thought this was amazing. When I expressed my incredulity to the chief he said that their top priority, aside from, of course, getting people out safely and fighting the fire, is saving people's possessions.

The thought of these burly-ass firefighters taking the time to throw down tarps in an attempt to protect our stuff from smoke and water damage reduced me to tears. Working in the news industry for more than a decade, I've seen my fair share of devastating house fires. But my vision of what went down in each home was only limited to what ultimately aired on television, and of course, that was the flames and the charred remains because that makes for good TV. Good television is not someone's unburned belongings kept safe from water damage by tarps that firefighters hastily flung down while fighting flames.

I guess the movies made me believe firefighters are mostly destructive; you know, crashing through windows, hacking through walls and using furniture to bash through doors - whatever it takes to fight fire, you know? But they aren't like that at all. They are thoughtful in the midst of the chaotic dance they are performing to try and save whatever structure is aflame. And it was like that, like a dance. Each player knew his part and performed it well. Had you set their firefighting performance to some sort of classical piece of music people would pay good money to watch. It would at least be as good as any Broadway number.

Organized chaos, the chief told me when I expressed admiration. The chief, by the way, stayed with me as I toured the blackened ruins of our second floor, excitedly pointing out certain items they were able to save. I was so touched that he seemed so personally pleased to have been able to save a picture here, a dresser there.

Firefighters have always been considered heroes, but mostly for those overtly heroic acts; hoisting someone down a ladder to safety, catching a child tossed from a window, bravely storming up staircases to the twin towers against a flood of panicked, fleeing people... But this thing I learned about them that day, the fact that they strive not only to save people in peril and fight the fire, but that they try their very hardest to save your personal items and it is important to them... Well, that chief, and the obvious pleasure he displayed in pointing out certain belongings of ours that made it through the fire, that will stick with me until the day I die.