I've had one cell that made it through a two-year contract in one piece. It was the first one I ever had. It probably helped that it was the size and weight of a brick.

Since then not a single phone has passed the test. One didn't survive its trip into the shower, another fell into the toilet and a few were dropped. Lately, they've just been committing suicide before I have the chance to off them. I think they're on to my strong dislike of phones and just decide a life as Allie's Phone isn't a life worth living. I can't say that I blame them, but it'd be nice to be able to reserve my phone purchases for contract renewal discounts.

This contract period has seen the death of three phones. Two to technical glitches that were beyond both my control and the warranty. My third and most recent phone was an Ebay purchase from some company in Hong Kong. It was never a great phone (mostly because it insisted on the "Hello Moto!" ringtone and would not stay changed no matter how many times I tried to fix it) but it worked. Right up until it spontaneously shattered.


It was spontaneous, I swear!

I'm pretty sure this is the Technology Gods telling me I shouldn't get an iPhone.

Read more »

You came to me a hand-me-down
A couch much loved and old.
Your stitching still immaculate
Your color still so bold.

I took you up to Lausanne 3
(The pimpest room of all)
And put you in a place of pride
Right up against the wall.

You soon became an icon there,
A bright orange installation.
We brought to you our brand new friends
And some infatuations.

You were on the receiving end,
Of many a co-ed butt.
And even under all that weight
You never got a rut.

You had your share of spills and stains,
Of sodas, beer and wine.
A simple dab with paper towels
And once again you'd shine.

For you were like an armored car
Impervious to wear
Your zig-zag fabric shimmering
No matter who slept there.

And when you went off campus
To the Cottage you did go.
To face a brand new challenge:
The dastardly Clio.

I hope you know I loved you
As if I were your mother
Even when I had to move
And leave you with my brother.

I'm not sure what all happened there,
But I have my suspicions.
And I'm impressed you endured so well
Under such conditions.

When I reclaimed you once again
You were a little worn.
The fabric had since faded
But not a single hole was torn.

You went with me from house to house
And welcomed home two boys
Your cushions hold the memories
Of ten years worth of joys.

You were more than just the place
Where bottoms went and farted
I hope you know I'll miss you,
My dear old couch departed.

Read more »

Ryan met our kitty-corner backyard neighbor lady this afternoon.

Neighbor: Do you have a bird?
Ryan: Like a pet?
Neighbor: Yeah, an exotic bird. A cockatoo maybe?
Ryan: Nope, no bird.
Neighbor: Hmm. Someone around here does.
Ryan: Really?
Neighbor: Yeah, we can hear it every so often. It's like they take it out for a walk or something.
Ryan: ...

And on the other side of the continent, Marty starts laughing and doesn't know why.

Read more »

He's made a lot of progress since we first were reading this book.



(It's only the first half of the book because of the upload limit on blogger. Rest assured he does know what the sheep, donkey and owl say! Donkey is my personal favorite. Next time you see Cael you'll have to ask him to demonstrate...)

Read more »

We're working on potty training Cael. It's going very, very slowly. He'll go in the potty if he happens to have to go when it's time for a diaper change, but other than that he's pretty much a diaper guy still.

In an attempt to encourage pooping in the potty, we flush his poops down the toilet and tell him that's where poop belongs. He likes to wave goodbye to it when it goes. He's actually pretty enthusiastic about the whole thing, but so far it hasn't translated into actually wanting to make a direct deposit.

Today, Cael and I were playing on the floor while Finn was having some tummy time on a blanket nearby. Finn passed some gas (loudly) and Cael ran over to him, waved at Finn's bottom and said, "Bye bye, boop!"

Read more »

Read more »

Cael no longer flips out when you try to wipe his nose! This is huge progress.

Instead, you can simply ask him to get himself a Kleenex. He'll pull one from the box, wipe his nose (to varying degrees of effectiveness) and then... stuff the tissue back in the box.

We're working on dropping the last part, but he's pretty insistent. So, for the time being, the Carty house is B.Y.O.K!

Read more »

Don't you wish I'd brought the video camera?

Read more »

Cael and I were playing on the floor of the dining room and Finn started crying. I said, "Sorry Cael, I have to go feed your brother now." He jumped up and said, "No!" Then he ran to the door to the living room and shouted, "Bye bye, baby!" before slamming it closed.

Read more »

The back wall of our house is entirely windows, but that's never been a problem. The only time my privacy feels invaded in this giant fishbowl is when someone is at the front door. The sliver window there is one-hundredth of the size and a hundred times more revealing than the rest of the windows combined.

The placement of this window is between the door and the doorbell, ensuring that every person who comes to call has to lean over it and look inside the living room. And when they do they inevitably see me. Or rather, my shoulders and head above the back of the love seat that is adjacent to the couch I sit on while I nurse.

So delivery person or solicitor rings the doorbell while looking inside and seeing me sitting there. They don't see the baby attached to my chest - they just see a rude woman who refuses to come to the door even when they know she's just sitting on a couch fifteen feet away.

The FedEx lady actually threw up her hands and rolled her eyes at me.

In an effort to avoid insulting those that seek to sell me things (French encyclopedias, anyone?) and because I'm not Wile E. Coyote* I actually have taken to detaching the poor, hungry infant and taking him and his ensuing cries to the door. I figured at least with the screaming baby the sales people would leave me be and I'd stop buying things I don't need (why do I want to be able to eat my cleaning solution?) but it turns out it doesn't even phase them. They still insist on giving the entire spiel and I end up answering all their questions. Because, "I'm not interested" isn't an answer to, "Which night of the week is best for you?" and I can't figure out how to work it in.

Yes, I did make an appointment to have my windows checked and no, I don't intend on being home when the guy comes by to inspect them. I plan on being in the bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights turned off.

*

Read more »

He certainly doesn't need the shirt to tell us he's still a baby...

Read more »

Usually Cael's bath with Ryan ends with them both calling, "Mama!" That's when they're ready for towels. Occasionally the call will come in early if Cael starts drinking the bathwater and needs a cup of tap water instead. The other day, however, the call for Mama came for an entirely different reason and was accompanied by a panicked, "Help!"

I ran to the bathroom and found Ryan practically crawling up the wall of the tub with Cael secured in his lap. Ryan repeated his cry for help with a look of utter terror on his face and Cael was totally nonplussed.

Allie: Hi, guys. What's up?
Ryan: Help!
Allie: Are you ready to get out?
Ryan: Help!
Allie: Help with what?
Ryan: Get it out!
Allie: Get what... oh.

And there, resting conspicuously at the bottom of the tub was the biggest turd Cael has ever produced. Seriously huge. And if that weren't offensive enough, more poo debris was floating aimlessly through the water, which Ryan was trying valiantly to escape.

Allie: Wow. That's huge.
Ryan: Just get it out!
Allie: How do you want me to get it out?
Ryan: I don't know! How do you usually get rid of the poop when Cael goes in the tub?
Allie: I drain it.
Ryan: Then drain it! Hurry!

I reached over, flipped the switch, and the water started heading for the drain... followed immediately by the giant turd. This probably wouldn't have been an issue had we not made a habit of removing the drain filter during Cael's baths so he won't impale himself on the sharp metal prongs. But, since there was no cover, the turd plowed straight ahead and down the drain only to be stopped by the built-in stopper about 2 inches down. So there it was, in all its giant poo glory, sticking out of the drain like a nail waiting for a hammer.

Allie: Uh oh.
Ryan: What?
Allie: This has never happened before. I didn't factor in the size of the poo.
Ryan: What do you mean and why is the tub not draining?
Allie: It's clogged!
Ryan: Well, unclog it!
Allie: You know you are like a lady standing on a chair when she sees a mouse, right? It's just a little feces.
Ryan: Unclog it!

So, after weighing my options, I decided the best course of action would be to grab a handful of toilet paper and grab the turd. I, of course, neglected to take into account the reason toilet paper is toilet paper - it disintegrates in water. Before my hand made it from the surface to the drain the paper had come completely unraveled. Obvious solution:

Ryan: Get a bigger wad of it!

Bigger wad of toilet paper still didn't make it all the way to the drain. Nor did the next few wads. But now the tub was filled with chunks of poop, wisps of toilet paper and the world's largest turd.

Ryan: Use a baby wipe or something!
Allie: But then I can't flush it!
Ryan: I don't care what you do with it, just get it out!

And get it out I did.

Allie: Okay, it's draining.
Ryan: The rest of the poo is incoming!
Allie: We have to stop it before it goes down the drain!
Ryan: Throw on the cover!

The drain cover does indeed stop the poo from going down the drain. The new problem that arises, however, comes when the wisps of toilet paper and little chunklettes of poop clog the cover. I spent the next several minutes scraping accumulated bits of poo and paper so that the tub could drain.

Later that evening, after everyone had been sterilized, Ryan observed: "You know, I saw it coming."

Allie: The poo?
Ryan: Yeah. He stood up and started going and I watched the whole thing play out.
Allie: That's disturbing.
Ryan: What's disturbing is that all I am thinking now is, "Damn. I should have just reached out and caught it."
Allie: See that's the difference between you and I.
Ryan: In retrospect you still wouldn't have grabbed it?
Allie: No, in retrospect I would have taken a shower instead of a bath.

Read more »