Saturday, August 15, 2009

Until very recently, I had never read David Sedaris, famous essayist and contributor to NPR. I hadn't even really heard of the guy. Neither his name nor his books meant much to me. Admittedly, I am hardly an expert on NPR contributors, and although sometimes it does feel like I live under a rock, I do maintain at least a passing knowledge of popular books. Doesn't mean I've read them all. Just means I have heard the titles mentioned on CBC Radio and can nod knowledgeably if they come up in conversation.
All I really knew about this Sedaris guy was there were a lot-- A LOT-- of requests for his books at the library. Request-list numbers generally do not, as a rule, guide my book choices, but lately, I've come to realize I've reread Harry Potter just a little too much and am trying to branch out. Really, though, there isn't much guiding my reading choices other than, "Have I heard of it?" and, "Is it in the library?" Sometimes the process is streamlined further by, "Do I like the cover?"
The first Sedaris book I requested and read this weekend was chosen simply for the fewest number of people asking for it. I picked up Dress your Family in Corduroy and Denim. With a title like that, I was expecting essays along the Erma Bombrek/Dave Barry type or stories along the cute, faked wisdom vein of, "My kid ruined the CD collection I painstakingly collected through my twenties, salad days full of time and money, but since I am such a wonderful person and parent, I'd rather have peanut-butter-smeared everything than precious, rare, hard-to-find status items."
Boy, was I wrong. One story in particular, Blood Work, had me in tears. Honestly, I don't think I have laughed that hard since I was seven and reading Garfield comics in my bed.
By the way, if you read the Google Books deal of Blood Work, the funniest part is not available on the Internet, so you'll have to add your name to the request list at your library to really, really laugh, or I guess you could buy it, if you're into that kind of thing, book buying that is.
I hate to state the obvious, but man, this baby is cute.
And long, very long. Having only had Finn, I might have a skewed frame of reference. The tall genes must be dominant, though, as in crush-all-other-genetic-material-and-laugh-maniacally-while-doing-so dominant.

Being 40 degrees with the humidity, the neighbourhood spray park seems the best place to hang out.

Friday, August 14, 2009

This is Finn happy at the park. Note the lack of other children. Other children at the park make Finn unhappy. He can tolerate one or two other kids running around, and he may even tentatively wave at one, but if it's a full park, Finn's butt will not leave the stroller.He's not totally anti-social, though. He likes us. He really likes Rosemary now. He has given our neighbor's daughter a smile once or twice, and Dylan has successfully coaxed him into giving her a candy.
Her name, the neighbour, is ALAIN. SHE IS 4 AND A HALF. DON'T FORGET THE HALF. OH! SHE GOT A NEW HAIRCUT. IT LOOKS LIKE A MUSHROOM. OH! THERE'S HER LITTLE FRIEND. WHAT'S HIS NAME AGAIN? FINN? WELL, HI FINN. HAVE A KISS. OH! THIS IS HER BIKE. IT'S PINK. OH! DO YOU WANT TO WATCH HER BE A FIRE TRUCK? On and on it goes. She's cute. Finn is just so bewildered by her and her constant chatter, he's immobilized, watching, wondering when she will leave. I like her, though. She is one HAPPY GIRL.
And, by the way, she does manage to give Finn a kiss once in a while.
Girls like you, Finn. I guess it's a curse you will have to learn to live with.

Sunday, August 09, 2009

This is a video of Rosemary's first real giggle session. Finn is trying to get her. I am whisking her out of his reach, and she is laughing at him.
Oh man, now she's encouraging him. These two.
The Leites go to a picnic! Saturday was the NavCanada Annual Family Picnic. Expecting something from an episode of the Simpsons, I was pleasantly surprised. It was like a fun fair except without the crowds, the googly-eyed people, the noise, and everything was free. We ate a lot: caramel corn, cotton candy, hamburgers, hot dogs, chocolate chip cookies, lemonade.

It was a big day for a two-year-old. Finn rode a pony, went down a gigantic inflatable slide, raced cars with Dylan, entered a bouncy castle -- boy, he hated that -- and filled his tummy with sugary goodness.

Nummy, nummy.

Speaking of great, this is my new love, the double stroller.