"That's Not Food!"

When your baby starts to do things that any other normal person would expect to do without fanfare- such as putting a spoon down on a table instead of throwing it in someone's face- you, as an encouraging and loving parent, find yourself doing something which never would have come naturally during the pre-baby years. You applaud. You clap and say "Yay!" and act like your baby has just completed his or her valedictorian speech, the one in which the statement "couldn't have done this without my parents, who are not at all expected to pay for my college" is peppered liberally throughout. Before baby comes along, applauding for the simple act of not intentionally breaking something, making a mess, or being generally jerky would have been unheard of. If your coworker managed to keep her yogurt in her mouth instead of spitting it all out in an explosion of milky strawberry bits and saliva, it wouldn't even cross your mind that this was something deserving of...

Love of animals is certainly not a genetic trait. My husband and I are not pet people, and Chris has gone on record saying that he doesn't get "the point" of dogs. When his friend's dog died a few years ago, Chris managed to muster a "Sorry to hear that. I know you really liked that dog." The unspoken part of that last sentence was "for some reason." Don't be fooled by these dogs; not one of them knows how to vacuum. In fact, Chris thinks that everyone that wants a dog would be better off just taking in a drifter. His argument is that in the battle of dog versus homeless person, a homeless person wouldn't need to be housebroken, he probably wouldn't chew up your slippers, and he could make himself useful by helping out with chores and being the third player when you and your significant other have a hankering for a game of "Clue." So, next time you're considering adopting a puppy, why not just take in a wino? ...

"That's not food!" is a life lesson that I try to teach my fifteen month old son daily. "That's not food!" usually refers to the toilet brush, paper napkins, dirty socks, currency, and other items that look delicious but, as we've learned, are not food. Since this blog is to ultimately serve as a love letter and message to my son Andy (and any other future offspring that come tearing out,) I figured it was only appropriate to entitle the blog after one of my mother exclamations that he's currently hearing (ignoring). Along this vein, other possible blog titles could have very well been: Get Out Of The Dryer! There's Poop On Your Sock! That's Not A Toy! Don't Kiss With Your Tongue! Get Your Hands Out Of Your Diaper! and Don't Throw Liquids! Or Solids For That Matter! I meant to start this blog about fifteen months ago, right after little Andy was born, but it's just today that I finally decided on the title. Tha...