the cult of pie

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Warning: long mommy-blog type post ahead

I decided that we should "do something fun" last weekend, as I was about to start a new job with a horrific commute, and I had a brand new refill on my painkillers. This idea to "do something fun" is usually my undoing, but beforehand it always sounds like a great idea. Yet somehow I never learn.

This time my "do something fun" idea was to visit the Woodland Park Zoo, as I'd recently seen an ad on television stating that they had a batch of brand new penguins. And I'm a sucker for penguins. Plus, Xander loves Pingu, so of course he must love live penguins, too, right? Even if Pingu doesn't really look so much like a penguin, lives in an igloo with indoor plumbing, and hits his sister.

Anyway, we didn't get out of the house until after lunch, which was admittedly my fault. I just couldn't get my ass in gear to shower and get dressed. But we'd decided to forego Xander's usual afternoon nap so that he'd be tired by bedtime as he was going to have to get back into his daycare schedule of going to bed at 7.30-8pm and getting up at 6.30am. Hopefully with a minimum of screaming and whining. So leaving at what was usually his nap time was the plan.

So after we drove around the various zoo parking lots for 45 minutes trying to find a space, stalking zoo patrons encumbered with six ice cream-covered, snot-filled kids and strollers wider than my car, and asking each other "are they leaving or are they going into the zoo?", we finally found a spot and to the tune of "get down! get down!" we removed Xander from his car seat, plonked him in his stroller (which we really only use these days for situations in which he'd suddenly decide he doesn't want to walk anymore and we're forced to carry him on a mini-Bataan Death March (too soon?) for 10 miles back to the car) and gave the cashier the equivalent of a car payment to get into the zoo. [Holy crap, is that the mother of all run-on sentences, or what?]

And there, the fun stops. And it was only fun so far because Xander had slept nearly the entire way in the car (so much for skipping his nap.) We headed towards the penguins first, because that was really the main reason we were there. Plus they were closest to the entrance.

Xander really did enjoy the penguins, but it was difficult to get close because apparently every other parent and child in King County had decided en masse to visit the penguins at that exact moment. So Rob took him out of the stroller and carried him over to wedge a space between some other grubby children to look at the penguins swimming happily about their new habitat.

It was quite a distance between the penguins and the next exhibit and rather than drag Xander by one arm, legs dangling uselessly and mouth screaming, we decided to put him back into his stroller so we could leave the zoo sometime before the end of the world. But of course he didn't want to get back into the stroller. "Do you want to walk?" "NO!" Ok. So he doesn't want to walk. He doesn't want to be in the stroller. What does he want to do? He wants to be carried. Through the entire zoo.

At that point I had a sudden glimpse of Xander's high school graduation where he'd still be in diapers and had to have his daddy carry him up to the podium to get his diploma, because why would he use his own legs when he can get someone to carry him? And then he took up his job as chief fry-maker at McDonald's and made himself cozy in our basement for the rest of his life.

Anyway. It pretty much went on like this for the rest of the day. He wants to be in the stroller. He wants to walk. He wants to be carried. And god help you if you don't react to his demands quickly enough, because even the monkeys stopped their shrieking momentarily to stare out at the creature that was so much louder and shriller than they were.

Lesson learned last weekend: if I want to go look at penguins, leave Xander with a babysitter so I can enjoy the zoo in peace. I've found that a lot of kid-oriented activities are so much better without the kids.

.:0 comments | baked by pie at 9.27 AM | permalink:.

Friday, March 06, 2009

Pie Household Personnel Policies

Overview
These personnel policies have been created to provide members of the Pie household an official written statement of the rules and regulations in effect within this household. Please read the following statements carefully. These regulations have been imposed to promote fairness [terms of fairness to be decided upon by CEO (Chief of Everything Officer, Pie) and CFO (Chief Financial Officer, Rob)] and efficiency within the household.

Work Schedule
Weekday work schedule begins at 6.30am sharp. Employees must wake and be cooperative at this time. Failure to be cooperative will result in shorter allotted time for morning meal, and loss of Sesame Street privileges.

The workday ends when management decides it's had enough of the employee for one day. The workday end encompasses one (1) bath, tooth-brushing, hair-brushing, a minimum of three (3) bedtime stories, kisses, cuddles and tucking-in. Any misbehavior during the end of day activities will result in less bath time and loss of bedtime stories. Kisses, cuddles and tucking-in will be downgraded to one (1) kiss and a tucking-in.

Weekend schedules are more flexible, but work start and end times are set by management. Employees are expected to be cooperative and available for work at a time of management's discretion.

Compensation and Benefits
Compensation is provided in the form of clothing, meals, snacks, toys, books, films, and generally all material items used by the employee. At such time as management feels the employee to be responsible enough, a weekly allowance may be provided in return for chores.

Benefits include Medical (kisses for all scratches, scrapes and bumps), Dental (regular tooth-brushing accompanied the tooth-brushing song) and Life (you won't ask, if you know what's good for you.)

Disciplinary Action
Offender will be allowed one warning before formal disciplinary action is taken by management. The offender may occasionally be permitted a second warning, depending on the type and severity of the infraction. If the offending employee does not respond positively to verbal warnings, further disciplinary action will be taken in the form of:

taking away an item belonging to employee, particularly if said item was used in the commission of a crime (i.e., whacking dog with it)
time-out downstairs on time-out seat
time-out upstairs in bedroom on time-out seat
loss of remainder of meal and/or loss of dessert privileges on rare occasions that dessert is offered
in certain cases, "cruel and unusual" (but hilarious) punishments may be enforced at the discretion of management. These may include, but are not limited to:
1. allowing dog to sit on/ride offender (with or without a saddle) if offense included attempting to sit on/ride the dog
2. forcing offender to wear dress in public (make-up and hair ribbons added at management discretion)
3. imitation/repetition of whining by management (the Echo Game).

Procedures for Filing Grievances or Appeals
There are no procedures in place at this time. The CEO's word is final. And don't whine - nobody likes a whiner.

.:2 comments | baked by pie at 10.40 AM | permalink:.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Creature Feature

Seven months ago, I imparted all the great wisdom I'd gained from having been a parent for three months [pops]. Now that it's been a full ten months since having acquired this adorable little demon in toddler's clothing, I thought I'd share a few more important and insightful things I've learned since becoming a parent.

* Dogs and children are rivals for parental affection and will fight to the death to receive it, if given the chance.

* Xander will never miss the opportunity for a group hug. If Rob and I are in any way touching, he will always horn in on the action, usually managing to grope one or the other of us inappropriately at the same time.

* It's possible to work yourself up into a screaming, frothing frenzy over just about anything. If you do it right you can even get the dogs worked up so that everyone in a 3-block radius will be able to benefit from the screeching and barking extended remix.

* Xander will repeat whatever it is he's just said until you either repeat it or acknowledge it, no matter how inane. Example: "Doggie!" he cries, holding up his stuffed seeing eye dog toy. Two seconds later, "Doggie!" A further 5 seconds later, "Mummy! Doggie!" as he shoves the mangy thing in my face. When I finally say, "Yes, Xander, that's a doggie," he'll move onto the next thing on his list.

* I never thought I'd be so ecstatic about anyone taking a dump in the proper place.

* Toddlers really can't hold up their end of a telephone conversation.

* Toddlers have some sort of unnatural radar that tells them whenever you're getting dressed or undressed. Although I have a sneaking suspicion that Rob's using Xander as a scout to report back when I'm unclothed and vulnerable to ambush.

* If a toddler has been mining for nose gold and you tell him to stop, he will immediately try to shove the offending finger in your ear, eye or mouth.

* If you laugh at something, your toddler will laugh right along with you, even though he has no idea what's funny. They're the ultimate audience for a failed stand-up comedian.

* Peeling a screaming toddler off your leg is harder than it looks.

.:0 comments | baked by pie at 8:04 PM | permalink:.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Valentines Day Schmaltz

In honor of Valentines Day, I thought I'd share the story of my own knight in shining armor.

In 1994, I ended up penniless and homeless in London. I'm not going to get into the events that led me there, that's a horrifying story of mistakes and stupidity for another day. Suffice it to say that homeless and penniless is where I was. I had recently received my official vendor card for selling the Big Issue [pops], although I was admittedly crap at it and wasn't selling many.

That's not a scary picture at all, is it?
One night in January, 1995 I had gone to the Royal George on Tottenham Court Road in central London to meet up with some friends. I was standing near the bar with my friend Dave, and I just sort of fell into conversation with a guy nearby who I'd assumed was friends with Dave. I thought he was cute, but didn't think much more about it.

The next week, I returned to the Royal George and saw this guy again. He was on a date with an American girl, but he couldn't understand her New York accent, and she couldn't understand his West London accent. So I offered my services as a translater. I know, I'm all heart.

His date eventually got annoyed and left (according to the details Rob just filled in for me, she sounds like a bit of a drama queen), and I dragged Rob, with some friends of mine, to rock night at a club called the Astoria just down the road. It was unfortunately so loud in there we couldn't really talk so we wrote notes back and forth on one of my copies of the Big Issue (and you have no idea how much I wish I still had it.)

Well apart from a few bumps in the road, we started seeing each other, and when Rob found out that I was homeless, he gallantly purchased every single copy of the Big Issue I had, and found me a place to stay with some of his friends in Watford. He even helped me find a job, which had been impossible to do previously without having an address.

I really owe everything I have now to Rob. He picked me up when I was at my lowest, and helped get me back on my feet. He was unbelievably generous and kind, overlooking the homelessness, which the majority of people would not have been able to do. He saw that I was worth something, even though to the rest of the world, it appeared that I wasn't worth anything. And for that I'm eternally grateful.

And with that, I wish you all a Happy Valentines Day!

Barf bags available at the exits for a small fee.

.:82 comments | baked by pie at 1.17 PM | permalink:.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Help for men on Valentines Day

I know men have difficulty finding gifts and things to do for their girlfriends/wives that aren't trite and overdone like flowers and chocolates. So here are some thoughtful gifts and sweet little things you can do for your sweetheart to show her how much you care.

* Bring her a bandaid when she cuts herself making a fancy three-course meal for you.
* Point out exactly which part of your back needs rubbing, so she doesn't waste her time working on areas that don't need it.
* Leave the vacuum in the living room, all plugged in, so it's ready for her. For bonus points, unplug the vacuum when she's done with each room and plug it in again in the next room.
* Turn on the dishwasher (and that doesn't mean groping her from behind while she's rinsing the dishes).
* Buy her lingerie that makes her look like a cheap hooker, and ask her to wear a wig and speak with an accent while you have sex.

Gifts that show how much you care:
1) New vacuum bags
2) A set of top o' the line pots and pans
3) Novelty penis swizzle sticks
4) Birth control pills
5) A card that reads: "To my Valentine" on the outside, and written on the inside is: "I'm sorry I gave you crabs. I promise to only use the clean, high-priced escorts from now on". I don't think Hallmark makes these yet, so it'll have to be home-made. And home-made cards show how much you care because you put some effort into it.

Please note that I will not be held responsible for any lack of Valentines Day nookie and/or bruising or fractures caused by sharp blows to the head with a frying pan after your attempt of any of these maneuvres.

From the archives

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Saturday, January 31, 2009

How hot is your car?

Rob and I were having a conversation about the relative attractiveness of our respective cars. My car is cute; it's little and red with tinted windows and snazzy wheels, although it does have something of a large rear end (a little junk in the trunk, if you will).

Rob's car, I informed him, was like the last bar hag left at the end of the night when the lights come on. She has stringy hair and smells of 3-day old whiskey.

His car is like the prostitute who never gets her mugshot in one of those online mugshot roundups, because she never gets arrested, because she's so heinous that she doesn't have any customers.

His car is like a dead hooker.

And with that, I think I won.

.:2 comments | baked by pie at 6.07 PM | permalink:.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Why not?

Edit: You know what's weird is that this bird is almost exactly the same color as my blog background - which was not intentional. Guess I just really love this color red.

.:0 comments | baked by pie at 10.11 PM | permalink:.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Presidents Day ruminations

Why is it that all things honoring past presidents have to do with consumerism? We engrave their images on our coins and bills, and use their one day a year to hawk stuff at a discount. And this is after it was decided it wasn't fair to honor only the good presidents by giving each their own day; now we have to lump them all together in order not to overlook such presidential mishaps as William Henry Harrison. "Monday! Monday! Monday! Come on down and buy a cheap car in honor of Honest Abe. He'll be honest on our behalf, since you know we'd drill a hole in our own skulls in order to sell you a lemon."

Okay, well the consumerism thing isn't strictly true. We also name streets, counties, states, national parks and memorials after them. But as far as holidays go, Presidents Day really is something of a loser. No barbecues, no parades, no ticker-tape, no fireworks, no decorations (unless you really want to plaster Nixon's face on your front door), not even any booze. Hell, I don't even get the day off work. I say we eschew Presidents Day in favor of a new holiday: The "It's Too Freakin' Long Between New Years and Easter" Four-Day Weekend. It'll sort of be a hodge-podge of all the worthless working holidays between New Years Day and Easter weekend.

Decorations will include cut-outs of our chubbiest presidents (to represent Fat Tuesday & Presidents Day) liberally adorned with green hearts (St. Patrick's valentines), and you'll invite your friends over to enjoy a mid-winter outdoor barbecue where you'll serve green eggs and ham (St Patrick again, plus a little early Easter fun). In honor of tax day and Passover, you should invite your accountant round for a little matzo ball soup. Seasonal blizzards will make the whole thing more exhilarating due to the threat of frostbite and avalanches.

I should really work for Hallmark. I'd make them a fortune.

.:15 comments | baked by pie at 12.54 PM | permalink:.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Tips to Make Groundhog Day More Enjoyable

It's a groundhog.
They've anthropomorphized it, but it's still a groundhog.
It can't predict the weather. It's a freakin' groundhog.
Have you ever really looked at a groundhog? It's ridiculous.
Did I say that it was a groundhog? Yeah.
Drink a lot of beer before checking the official Punxsutawney Groundhog Club website for the groundhog's decision.

.:0 comments | baked by pie at 9.25 PM | permalink:.

Thursday, January 08, 2009

So, it's 2009 already. A brand spanking new year, shiny with promise and edged with hope. Or you know, something a little more ominous and foreboding. A new year means it's time to dust off this blog and see if I can resume something resembling regular updates. I admit I've been seriously lazy when it comes to blogging, but all I can offer as a defense is that my job has sucked every last humorous impulse out of me, probably right about the time it sucked out my soul and left the head of a software developer in my bed.

Anyway.

Rejected Childrens Book Sequels

Guess How Much I Wish You'd Move Out
The Velveteen Rabbit and the Garbage Barge
The Bulimic Caterpillar
The Giving Tree Takes Back
Mrs. Piggle Wiggle's Basement
Uncle Joe Visits The Secret Garden
Mr. Popper's Penis
Pippi Longstocking Walks the Plank
Flicka's Trip to the Slaughterhouse
Harry the Dirty Dog Humps His Last Leg

.:5 comments | baked by pie at 12.17 PM | permalink:.

Friday, January 02, 2009

'Twas the day after New Year

'Twas the day after New Year, and cubicles swept,
With sounds of deep wheezing and snores as they slept.

The trashcans were placed by the queasy with care,
In fears that their hangovers soon cause despair.

The workers who nestled in cubicle lands,
Dreamt visions of holidays spent in the sand.

The boss in suspenders and new reindeer tie,
Had set up more meetings to make people cry.

When down from the lobby there came a loud sound,
I leapt from my desk and tripped with a frown,

Over mountains of desk toys and crumbs of stale cake,
Fell head over heels to the floor with a quake.

I ran to the window to seek out the fuss,
Pulled up the Venetians with just a quick thrust.

The sirens and lights filled my eyes and my ears,
Causing shock and surprise to all of my peers.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But guards and policemen in full riot gear.

I looked out behind me, and what should I see,
The boss looking shaken and gripping his knees.

More evil than demons his plans had been made,
To downsize departments, send workers away

"Now, Oldster! Now, Intern! Now, Useless and Drippy,
On, Techie! On, HR! On Service and Shipping!

To the carpark! Security will escort you there,
Now get out, begone, bugger off, hit the stairs!"

As the workers cleared out their desks, full of woe,
The guards came behind them to give them a blow.

So down to the lobby the guards and the fired,
And the silent coworkers who hadn't expired.

Looking back at the boss, in his shiny suspenders,
We knew he'd had kickbacks from most of his vendors.

A bitter thought swept through all of the masses,
Just about how all the high-ups were asses.

Decisions were reached in the blink of an eye,
Revenge it is sweet, and the time it was nigh,

To take on that backstabbing snake in the grass
Hold him responsible, not let him pass.

Together we coworkers cheered with delight,
Took our boss to the rooftop, not without fight.

Then, in a twinkling, threw him over the side,
We heard the loud thump as he hit, as he died.

And laying a finger inside of his nose,
The prodigy groomed by the boss calmly rose,

To take the position of boss, with a smile,
At all the coworkers, his heart filled with bile.

But I heard them exclaim, ere he ran down the stairs,
"Brake lines can be sliced, he'd better beware."

.:1 comment | baked by pie at 5.04PM | permalink:.