Monthly Archives: July 2013

Evie’s Playlists


To prepare Evie for the world, I’ve been creating playlists. I feel that I’m rather gifted at the art of playlist making. I’ve been honing my skills since I was in elementary school.

Dave has made his own playlists. He has one of random music, which he wrote about many weeks ago. He also has one of classical music and jazz. Classical music and jazz are great and all, but I want a baby who’s ready to belt out some tunes. Thus, I’ve created four playlists. Please note that these are all Spotify playlists.

Playlist 1: Calm Evie — Based on the title, it’s clear that this is her chill music. When she’s become too crazy, I can just try to bring the excitement level down a bit with songs from artists like Judy Collins, David Bowie, Otis Redding, Cat Power, etc.

Playlist 2: Dance, Evie, Dance — I love to dance. Dave does not. I want to make sure that she enjoys shaking her tail feather to music from the 1950s on. She’ll be like this…

…only cuter.

Playlist 3: Evie Have Fun! — Dave thinks it’s lame for Evie to listen to kid music. I’m OK with it, but think she can have something even better…goofy adult music. This might also cause her to dance and make weird noises, which is wonderful.

Playlist 4: Sing and Dance Evie — Evie’s life cannot be complete without showtunes. This is really a must and will help prime her for watching movie musicals when she gets older.

Take a listen to any or all. I’m also up for suggestions, but do be aware I might judge you harshly on your music tastes. Do expect these to be tweaked a bit more over the following weeks.


Cribs and Rutabagas


The crib is put together, matressed, and bedded.  In fact, the whole crib area is more or less ready to go:


We also went ahead and decorated and set everything up, complete with speakers, an MP3 player loaded with awesome tunes, stuffed animals…

We know, we know, we need to do something with the chords - we'll figure it out.

We know, we know, we need to do something with the chords – we’ll figure it out.

the all important Wonder Woman picture custom drawn by George Perez…

And, yes, the rollicking theme song is on the aforementioned MP3 player.

And, yes, the rollicking theme song is on the aforementioned MP3 player.

and… Chekhov.  Yep, within fifteen minutes of putting the bedding down, he decided it all looked very comfortable and decided to commandeer the whole thing.  So, until Evie comes, we’re going to keep aluminium foil spread over the mattress to hopefully teach him not to go up there.  Otherwise, we’ll have to get a net to keep him out.

Stupid Cat

Stupid Cat.

In other news, today marks the beginning of week 25, which means, according the Baby Center website, she’s now the size of rutabaga.  I assume she looks exactly like this:

Only cuter.

Only cuter.

New Doctor, New Chair


Yesterday, almost simultaneously, Norie saw the new doctor and the new glider arrived.  Alas, I had to be home to receive the delivery, so I didn’t get to go with Norie to the doctor, but I got a full report when it was finished.  Apparently, the new doctor talks very fast, overbooks appointments (like every other doctor these days, it seems), but is very nice and gave us a good update.  There were no new ultrasounds, though, so we’ll just have to trust that Evie’s still in there.

We did learn that the original due date is the correct one – October 31st.  I’ll resist the urge to say I told you so.

As all of this was happening, the glider arrived.  Norie likes to call it her pregnancy throne:

Unfortunately for Norie, her pregnancy throne is already spoken for.

Unfortunately for Norie, her pregnancy throne is already spoken for.

Otherwise there’s not much new to report.  We did put the crib together on Sunday, but we’re waiting until it’s all bedded out and everything before we take pictures.

Trips and Projects


There haven’t been any posts in a while because we’ve been visiting my parents in Colorado.  It was a fun visit, though weird to think it might be the last time I see the house in the mountains since my parents put the house on the market.  In addition to getting a group photo…



we also got the obligatory pregnant lady shot:



Anyway, now we’re back and have a lot of work to do.  Shortly after our return, the crib arrived in the mail (which I now have to put together), as well as a bunch of crates that I intend to make into a set of bookshelves for Evie.  Here’s the “before picture” (so that everyone can be amazed at my handiwork when I post the “after” picture in a few days):

This is not the final design.

This is not the final design.

Also, while in Colorado my dad helped me make a set of blocks for Evie.  I’ve already cut and sanded them, but plan to wood-burn/paint letters and pictures on them, so I have that project to work on as well.  Here they are in their current form:

This is my dramatic rendering of Metropolis after the events of "Man of Steel."

This is my dramatic rendering of Metropolis after the events of “Man of Steel.”

We also got a bunch of baby clothes while on the trip, and brought back some things from my childhood that Evie will enjoy, including stuffed animals and a set of wooden puzzles that my grandpa made.  All in all, I’d say the Varmint made out pretty well.

The Worst Children’s Classic of All Time


Norie and I are traveling to Colorado today to visit my parents, so this felt like the perfect time to address my hatred of Goodnight Moon – a book I never liked but that my mom read to me a lot as a kid.  Here’s a picture for reference:

Is it children's literature or the nightmare of an opium addict?

Not to be confused with the nightmares of opium addicts.

Right off the bat, the color scheme in this book is off-putting and hurts my eyes.  Always has, always will  (except for the kittens, who are inexplicably in black and white).  Whoever thought red carpet went well with green walls should have his or her face eaten off.

Which leads me to my next point – that “quiet old lady who is whispering ‘hush'” looks like she’s eaten plenty of faces in her time.  The panel before that sinister line, the rocking chair is empty – so I can only assume that that demonic, face-eating rabbit woman materialized out of thin air before she started knitting some fiendish device while whispering her menacing threat.

Added to all of this, on the wall to the left (meaning that if the child bunny looked at the woman-rabbit it would be hanging ominously right behind her) is the scene from Runaway Bunny in which the mother is trying to catch her child using a fish hook.  I’ve already covered that book’s disturbing threats of violence, and this one is apparently using that trauma to further intimidate the child.  No wonder this book always creeped me out as a kid.

Another part of what makes everything so creepy is the logical inconsistency of the anthropomorphized rabbits.  If I’m to believe that rabbits in this world are vaguely human, then why aren’t kittens also more like people?  Bears in this world apparently sit in chairs, but what about the cows?  For all of its delightful crappiness, Howard the Duck had the decency to explain the strange human/animal hybridity of its main character.  Here, we’re just supposed to take for granted that human/rabbit crossbreeds exist, live in houses, and based on the rug next to the bed, kill tigers.

But even if I’m willing to get past all of that, there’s still the issue of the book simply being poorly written.  The rhymes are forced and the verbal gymnastics that Margaret Wise Brown goes through to make them happen render the sentences choppy and ungraceful.

Not to mention, like the worst of the board books (and there is, appropriately, a board book version of Goodnight Moon) almost the entire book consists of nothing but a repeated phrase.  In my last post I wrote jokingly that I could make a book out of the phrase “Goodnight, sleep tight,” but I was apparently being overly ambitious.  Just “Goodnight,” is all I needed.  At least Hello Bugs went to the effort of using different drawings as it went through its list of saying “Hello” to things, but Goodnight Moon just recycles the same LSD trip of a picture as it recites its catch phrase over and over.

What it all adds up to is a creepy, aesthetically bankrupt piece of drivel whose writing is as stilted as the visuals are abrasive.

Oh, and what the hell is mush?