When I got the invitation to Ryan and Jenny's baby shower, I knew I was going to make a gift that was strange...strange and furry.
My goal was to create something that looked like it belonged on The Muppet Show.
The year I left for college, my sister made me a hamper that had eyes and teeth and was covered in fur. It was one of the best gifts I've ever received. I bought a flip-top hamper and started concocting my laundry monster for the Wee Gantz's nursery. 
I ordered turquoise and neon green fur. 
I carved a foam nose and some ears. I painted eyes. I added feathers. 
Many hours and many, many, many hot glue sticks later, the hamper was complete.
The finished product looks like a cross between Falcor from The NeverEnding Story and , Sully from Monsters Inc. 
It sort of looks like a big, blue beaver, too.
The Laundry Monster
Cymbalta
Side effects may include the following...
* Nausea
* Dizziness
* Diarrhea
* Insomnia
* Fatigue
* Loss of appetite
* Vomiting
* Decreased sex drive
* Shakiness (tremors)
* Blurred vision
* Anxiety
* Vertigo
* Chills
The positive effects of Cymbalta can be hindered, reduced or reversed by the following:
* Listening to more than six songs by either Elliott Smith or Aimee Mann.
* Getting a haircut that makes you look 40.
* A cranky toddler throwing instant oatmeal at your face.
* Watching "The Brave One."
* Poor posture and a large bum
* Being alone and scared
Nikki Doodle
My husband recently left a collection of R. Crumb comics in the "library." (BTW-that's the bathroom!)
I was in high school when I saw Terry Zwigoff's documentary on Crumb and I instantly became a fan. His stuff was ugly and beautiful and satirical and sexual and attractive and uncomfortable. I liked the way he drew woman. I knew people thought his work was misogynistic, but I saw girls that were big and round like me and I liked it.
Jakob put the book in there on purpose. He wanted me to sketch. He knew that I'd start sketching if I started thumbing through Crumb comics.
I've always been a doodler. I'm constantly clogging the margins of my journals with odd illustrations of tree people and pigs and such. 
I drew this one after my workout at the YMCA.
I was wearing my Pixies shirt and two different people said "nice shirt."
I hate exercise. I hate dieting. I love being sedentary. I'm way good at it.
My doctor has advised me to lose weight. I'm really going to try this time. I'm using my son as inspiration. I want to be the best mom I can be and that means being healthier.
Sea World
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.
Dickens was talking about San Diego, right?
Sea World recently opened what I can only describe as "Elmo's Ultimate Toddler Chaos!" It's a Sesame Street themed section of the park. 
It's basically a lot of well-padded areas where kids can scream and freak out. Cooper loved it, but he kept crashing into other kids and making them fall over. An uptight one-year-old in a floppy hat HATED my son. It was hard to see his expression beneath the ridiculously over-sized hat, but I did hear him yell "Stop, you!" right at Coop and then (I think) he rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Then, it happened. 
Cooper met Cookie Monster. Yes. THE Cookie Monster.
He was overwhelmed. His little brain blew a fuse. He got to see and touch his fave tv celeb.
A line began to form so I started to pull Cooper away. "Say bye to Cookie," I said gingerly. Then my lovely little child lost his s**t! He began to yelp, "Wait! WAIT!" His little hands were trying to grasp at the blue fur. He sobbed. He begged. For several minutes he was simply inconsolable. 
Ice cream eased the suffering. 
The stingray pond was very crowded. You could pay $1 for some fish to feed them, but since Coop seemed more interested in splashing the water rather than viewing the marine life, I decided to save my 100 cents. 
Coop's favorite thing (besides meeting his furry, blue idol) was the aquarium. Each section we entered, he would yell 'FISH!"
He watched them swim. He saw a frog and said, "ribbit." 
There were more meltdowns and tantrums.
I wish he'd stop flopping on the ground like a mackerel. I'm not a fan of that move.
Party Animal
I'm going to be better about posting.
I'm going to be better about posting.
I'm going to be better about posting.
There. That's three times I promised. 
I made two cakes for Cooper this year. One was the Blues Clues cake for the big birthday bash and the other was this Animal cake for his actual birthday on June 10th.
As I was working on the cakes, I thought about my Aunt Tricia and how many cakes she's made for the family over the years. So much effort and love goes into each cake. I don't know how she does it. 
Coop likes cake. We even got him to blow out the candle and sort of sing something that may have sounded a bit like "Happy Birthday."
He wanted to eat the whole cake and when we tried to just give him a slice, he was angry. Like, real angry. Grrrrrrrrrr. Like, punk riot stomping screaming angry.
It being his birthday and all, we caved and gave him the whole cake. A calm fell over the room.
I hear Bill Murray's Caddyshack voice when I see this picture. "Yeah...uh...cake's pretty sweet. I like cake. Like the way it tastes. I'm studying up on cakes. Gonna, uh, find out which cake is my ideal cake, you know."
Why use a fork when a fistful of cake is so much more festive!
Coop requested pizza for his birthday. He learned to say it, so we order it.
He's asked for pizza every day since then.
Laguna Beach Bash
I believe this picture sums it all up:
That's what beaming with joy looks like.
Cooper's birthday party was a spectacular event in Laguna Beach featuring all of Coop's favorite things. 
Swimming, bubbles, music, balloons, food, handy dandy notebooks, grab bags, goofy adults AND A PINATA!
Actually, Cooper had no interest in the pinata. He ignored it and then when we broke it open to show him the "awesome pinata fun", he just sort of had this look like, "why are mini-candies and cheap plastic toys falling on me...what is this odd game, lady?"
The day also included another fave thing...flirting with cute gals. 
I made a Blue's Clue's cake. FYI--Funfetti is officially my new cake of choice in case you're keeping track. 
Thanks Poyant Family for the Celtics shirt. Now that we've won the championship, it's his lucky shirt! And thanks Tagues for the snazzy sweatshirts!
Thank you to Great Grandma Marie for The Tawny Scrawny Lion book. And a great big kiss, hug and thank you to MiMi, Grampy, Uncles Scott & Jordan. When Cooper opened his Red Sox book he saw Fenway Park and said, "WOW!"
By the end of the day, he was dizzy with party glee. 
The weekend had a certain Cape Cod vibe. It made me think back to my summers in Falmouth when we'd swim all day and then stay up all night and play games. 
Of course, if my parents plan a party, it's always fun. The Charbs know fun. Thanks mom and dad for making last weekend a success. My kid already has some pretty amazing memories thanks to you. And now that you got him Tee Ball, maybe he'll have a killer swing, too.
How can we possibly continue to top ourselves? We went from Muppets in the park to a beachside inn. What will it be next year? Barney the purple dinosaur drives us all on a bus filled with cookies to Sea World?
Actually, that sounds like good times.
Holy Crackers, You're Two!
Dear Cooper,
Two years ago today I held you for the first time. You looked up at me with big eyes as if to say, "You're my mom...I'm hungry, by the way."
You'll always be my baby, but you are so NOT a baby anymore. You are a little boy.
You climb EVERYTHING.
You say your letters and numbers.
You do the big slides at the playground.
You sing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."
You whisper secrets.
You call crackers "ca ca" and your binky a "dinky."
You've fallen madly in love with your yellow blanket and bubbles.
You say "Gonzo" and "Kermit" and you make those particular plush toys kiss each other.
You say "It's stuck," when you try to open things that I've baby-proofed.
You count to ten and say, "Ready or not, here I come!"
You can pat your head and rub your tummy. 
You draw, write and paint.
Sometimes you randomly start naming fruits...apple, nana, orinch.
You know many animals sounds and you perform them with true commitment. Your MOOOO for the cow always has gusto. Your kitty cat meow is so delicate. Your frog ribbit is enthusiastic. But my fave is the monkey..."Ooo Ah, Ooo Ah!" 
I'm proud of you. I'm honored to be your mother.
I can't believe how quickly the time has gone by.
Someday you'll be a man. From what I've already learned from you in these past two years, I can tell you'll be a great man.
I love you, Cooper. Happy, happy birthday.
-Your Mommy
Everybody Hurts
Dear Cooper,
It seems that Daddy's business trip to India just happen to coincide with your full-throttle launch into the "terrific" two's.
We've had some major meltdowns the past couple of days and I want you to know that I'm not mad.
The incident in the park with the bubbles was just as heartbreaking for me as it was for you.
Those kids had brought buckets of bubbles. I know you've never seen so many bubbles before and that must have been a bit over-stimulating. And those kids were older and not playing very nice. They didn't understand that you were just a baby. And you did start pouring all the bubbles onto your chest and that was not a popular decision amongst the crowd of 7 and 8 year olds. I felt it was time to leave the bubble area. I tried to explain that we'd play somewhere else and all would be ok, but you just kept crying out in agony..."BUBBLE! BUBBLE! BAAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOL!"
After snack, you felt better.
I hope I'm not turning you into an emotional eater. Mommy tends to get over grief with treats. It's not the best way to deal with your problems...but sometimes you just need treats to get through. 
We watched Beakman's World this morning. It was about how things float (density and displacement). You really like "Phoebe." You always like the girls.
I know you are struggling with trying to be a good boy. I can tell what a great heart you have. You want to be friendly. You want to be good. And you're trying to figure this whole language thing out. It's frustrating. Honestly, I still have a hard time trying to say exactly what I mean.
And this time with Daddy being gone...I'm not gonna lie. It stinks. It stinks like poopy. But it'll be over soon. He'll be back and it'll get better. I promise.
I'll do all I can do to make sure your two's are not terrible.
I love you, Coop.
-Mom
UPDATE!
He's staying at the RAMADA, not the Marriott.
That's a horse of a different color.
But HIP HIP HURRAY there' a BUFFET!
Burbank to Mumbai
My husband flies to India on Sunday.
He'll be staying at the Mumbai Marriott of JuHu Beach.
Holy Vishnu! It's a paradise! I'm wicked jealous.
If you take the hotel's website photo tour you can see all the super fancy stuff this place has to offer. (And the picture of the entrance makes it look like you get a free, high-class courtesan upon check-in.)
I wonder if Jakob will get a Ayurvedic Massage or visit the Enigma Lounge.
The only definite plan he's shared with me is waking up at 5:30am to watch the Celtics game.
I'm going to miss him so much.
It's hard to be away from the one you love.
Coffee Conspiracy
8 varieties of coffee are offered at work and they all taste the same.
Is this 'Colombian Supremo'?
Nope.
It's 'Lake and Lodge Blend.'
I bet it's the same coffee with different labels on it to give us the illusion of choice.
What's Coop's Favorite Food?
Video killed the radio star...but it's done wonders for the blog!
I'll set up this clip by saying Coop just finished a banana and he's looking for that extra little "something" to finish off the meal.
It's Just a Ride.
The Barnstable County Fair had a ride called THE GRAVITRON. It was just a big room shaped like a space ship that spun around real fast. I always wanted to go on that ride and it always made me nauseous.
I feel like I've eaten a pound of fried dough and cotton candy and I'm stuck on an ever-spinning ride run by some carnie who refuses to let me off even though I keep screaming, "I feel sick! I need to get off! I don't feel well."
And he laughs and says, "You wanted a ride!"
But I'm done riding. I want a nap.
I keep working, doing, trying for my family. For my husband. For my Cooper. 
I don't want to let them down.
But I'm dizzy.
Feelin' Bloggy?
My life is hectic right now.
I have way too many pies in the oven.
But, if you've come here looking to read about my family and you're sick of my inconsistent posting, then check these bloggy blogs:
If you need more California and Cooper, visit my mom's blog:
RiRi-FIIF
If you want to see what my preggo sis is up to:
Fletchonneaus!
If you want to know who these "Tague" people are who always comment:
Taguelines
If you want to delve into the capricious brain of Andrew Wollman:
Awol
And if you want to read about my friend Jessica Trimble and her adventures in nursing:
Paging Dr. Nurse
And here's a fave of mine, Dave Lowe's cartoon blog:
ParaAbnormal!
More from me soon...well, not so sure "soon" is the right word.
More from me at some point...guaranteed!
A Waste of Cake and Paper?
Happy Birthday, Mr. White.
You told me this year that you didn't want a party because it would be (to quote Patton Oswalt) "a waste of cake and paper."
But Coop insisted on making his Daddy a birthday card. 
Since this was gift art, Coop wanted to move beyond crayons to something with more of an archival quality. 
I busted out the watercolors. Coop wanted to use every brush and dip into multiple colors. His technique is very progressive. 
"Mom! I'm creating art right now! Could you stop it with the photos? You're distracting me."
Here's the finished piece:
Untitled watercolor by Cooper Kingsley White 2/23/08
I think his work is very sensitive. AND he spelled 'Birthday' right! Pretty good.
A great card, an Apple product and breakfast at Big Boy. 
Happy birthday.
Valentine
Remember that time when we talked all night long?
We were shocked to hear birds chirping
A sneaky dawn had arrived
And we kept laughing
Remember that time when you picked me a flower?
You stole it from Beacon Street
Placed it in my hand and said, "It matches your dress."
And we kept walking
Remember that summer on the Cape?
You worked the deli at Star Market
We danced and drank cheap beer
And we kept watching the ocean
Remember that time we didn't talk?
I hated it.
Remember that time we got married and had a baby?
I loved it.
Remember that Valentine's Day when I wrote a piss poor poem-like-thing for you?
We were too broke for gifts
We were too busy to go out
And we kept loving each other anyway.
Play D'oh!
Last week I started my month long stretch in studio. Then, I was abruptly laid off. Then I was suddenly re-hired and now I'm out of a job again.
Weirdest week ever.
Now I'm back to being a full time mommy. It was time to intro (drum roll, please) Playdough.
Coop started by trying to eat it. Of course.
Then, he really got into it. He really liked squishing the colors together and then ripping them apart again. He also enjoyed jamming the colors back into the correct container. He likes sorting and filing and putting things away. Future artist/musician/athlete/administrator.
I like his take on Edvard Munch's THE SCREAM. Nice.
The Story
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to
It's true
I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
Yeah you do
And I was made for you
You see the smile that's on my mouth
Is hiding the words that don't come out
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed
They don't know my head is a mess
No, they don't know who I really am
And they don't know what I've been through like you do
And I was made for you...
-Brandi Carlile
The Artist's Way
I've started a 12-week program called, The Artist's Way.
The book encourages artists to stop judging the art they make and embrace the creative spirit that is alive and at work in all of us. The exercises are supposed to help blocked, stifled and depressed artist find their path. Sure it sounds new-agey, but belittling a method that could possibly aid me as an artist is just fear and self-sabotage, right?
My first assignment is a daily one. It's called, "Morning Pages." Each day when I awake, I'm supposed to grab my notebook and write no less than 3 pages of stream of consciousness writing. No sensor. No filter. No attention paid to punctuation or spelling. No rules.
It was freeing! And it was weird. I started writing about the guy from Blues Clues. 
NO! Not that that one. That's the old dude named Steve. I like the new dude named Joe:
He just handles the material in a very believable way. My stream of conscious writing went on and on about how I prefer Joe to Steve. Oh. My. God. Please don't let me be that mom at the playground talking about which member of The Wiggles is "hot." Yeeks.
Oh...according to "The Artist's Way," I'm not actually supposed to share my stream of consciousness writing.
Am I'm already messing this up? Whatevs. I refuse to judge myself!
SEE! IT's already WORKING!!!! YAY!
Rick Moranis?
"Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to be roasted in the depths of the Slor that day, I can tell you!"
Blue Period Hero
I wanted to decorate an old messenger bag that had been sitting in my closet. I painted my own version of one of my favorite paintings--Picasso's "The Old Guitarist."
He's sad because he can't make it through 'Knights of Cydonia' on hard.
Do Gnomes and Iconic Mexican Painters Go Together?
Last night I was crabby and goofy at the same time.
I was teasing Jakob because he requires a certain extra soft toilet tissue and I called his bum "dainty."
I don't remember his exact verbal response, but he called me an emotional nutball. (In a cute, friendly way. Not mean.)
I said, "I'm going to wear my Frida Kahlo socks because you're acting sooooo Diego Rivera right now!" (Melodramatically. Playful. Not mean, either.)
I already had my gnome pajama pants on and I started to laugh hysterically when I saw Frida and the gnomes collide.
