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Showing posts from June, 2015

Baby's First Open Casting Call!

Fragrant Junior is pretty. Often mistaken for a girl, his wide smile, bright personality, and forever squishable thighs make him a compact ball of magnetism and charisma. "Wow, he looks like he should be in a magazine!" is a comment that has made his shy, retiring mother blush demurely many a time.

So, for shits and giggles, today I took Baby to a baby open casting call at FancySchmancy Street. A dozen other babies had the same idea, and dragged their moms and grandmas along. There was one dad, too!

We all filed into a small room -- Baby and I snagged a front row seat -- and the owner of the talent agency gave us an overview of How It All Works. As I understand, here are the three most important points:

The agency acts as a middleman between the advertisers and the product (/baby).Success is based upon the 40/60 ratio: 40% is how beautiful baby is, and 60% is "workability" -- how well s/he can be bribed to sit still for minutes at a time.One needs a car to get to a…

Movie Review: Spy (2015)

Spy is a brilliant takedown of the secret agent genre, anchored by Melissa McCarthy's charismatic performance, a bevy of hilarious supporting characters, a pimp soundtrack, and brutal fight scenes (!). This movie has it all.

McCarthy plays Susan Cooper, a CIA agent who's never been out in the field. Because of plot, of course involving the sale of a nuclear device, she volunteers to go on an assignment. Hijinks ensue!

I shan't spoil anything much, but if you've seen the trailers, you know that Jude Law and Jason Statham play versions of the secret agent trope -- one impossibly handsome and suave, the other gritty and rage-y. Susan's dynamic with both is a delight to watch. The same is true for her interactions with her friend Nancy, played by Brit Miranda Hart (see her in this French and Saunders Mamma Mia parody). And speaking of Brits, Rose Byrne once again plays McCarthy's nemesis, as the impeccably coiffed villain Rayna Boyanov. "Thank god your hair br…

Have Too Many Baby Videos, Please Help

Dear readers, the 8GB in my mobile device, Mr. Shinyface, is rapidly beingg depleted due to too many baby videos. I've been backing up to iPhoto on our family computer, but I also want to show off my handsomest, most intelligent baby let interested parties know how Junior is doing.

Below is a list of the video sharing services I've tried, as well as my reasons for not liking them:

1) YouTube: Storage issues. I think everything Google is linked, and I'm getting close to reaching my storage limit there, too. Currently too cheap to buy more storage.

2) Instagram: Kept bugging me to follow people. Deleted.

3) Vimeo: Sounded like a solemn hipster wearing a fedora or a flowing sundress, possibly both at the same time. All but promised me an artisanal video sharing experience. Deleted.

4) Tumblr: Kept bugging me to follow people. Deleted.

So, really, the conclusion to draw here is I am even more antisocial online than in real life, if such a thing were possible. Is my quest doom…

Lesson Learned: Clear the Floor!

Yesterday started out a little earlier and much more eventful than usual, but thankfully everyone is fine. 
To wit: Fragrant Junior, who, when congested, usually hangs out on the bathroom floor playing with a tabo while one of us showers so he can be steamed like a dumpling, got his hands on a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner. His dad stepped out of the shower to the terrifying sight of Baby with blue liquid (on the floor). 
Fragrant Husband went into Dad Emergency Mode, lifted him up, and hollered for me. We both checked his breath (seemed fine), washed his hands (twice), and Hubby called Poison Control, whose number I have saved on my phone, because this is exactly why. 
Throughout all this, Baby was his usual cheery self, and my Mom-radar wasn't going off, so I concluded that he hadn't swallowed the cleaner, and instead had just indulged in his new favorite activity, which is banging things around (hence the spilled liquid).
But Dad Emergency Mode, once engaged, takes about 48…

The Fragrant Husband I Deserve

I shan't bore you with the details, dear reader, but let me assure you that it requires the patience of a rock to live with me sometimes, let alone be my legal property, as Fragrant Husband is.

...Or is it the other way around?
In any case, I know I'm exhausting because I'm exhausted being me. The product of a female parental unit whose hobbies include eating and worrying, and a male parental unit whose modus operandi is to agonize over every decision until someone near him starts yelling, I am on a virtual emotional roller coaster ride every other day. True to my bloodline, my hours are spent eating, worrying, agonizing, and planning my next meal. 
Hubby is no dummy. He cottoned on pretty quick that my engine (tummy) needs to be kept in peak performance mode if there is to be any peace. Here are just a few examples of his genius:
1) On our way to New Hampshire, I happened to mention that I was thirsty about five minutes into the drive. He immediately pulled a U-turn and …

A Family Photo

This post brought to you by spring showers!