#23 in my movie challenge. I had to see Capote alone; my husband G. Grod was so aggravated by Philip Seymour Hoffman’s mannerisms that he not only refused to see the film, but fast forwarded through clips on television. Keener’s performance was good, but I didn’t think necessarily better than that in The 40-Year-Old Virgin. I enjoyed Capote’s portrayal of writerly history.
#22 in my movie challenge for the year. I enjoyed Clooney’s little-seen directorial debut Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (click link; scroll down). His sophomore effort, Good Night, and Good Luck, is even better. The black and white is lovely, the performances are strong, Clooney’s voice is mesmerizing, and the interpolated music is both skillful and entertaining. Most surprising? The erudite vocabulary.
#21 in my movie challenge for the year, In Her Shoes the movie is a good adaptation of Jennifer Weiner’s book. Both get lumped–unfairly, I think–under the heading of chick stuff. Both have a braininess and a lessened (though not absent) sappiness that makes them worthwhile. My two quibbles: Mark Feuerstein, who plays Simon Stein, is too cute to make Toni Collette’s initial rebuff completely believable, and while Collette may have gained weight for the part, she looks normal, hardly heavy, as the script implies. My husband’s quibble: the senior citizens were uniformly funny, sassy, and wise.
#20 in my movie challenge for the year. The librarians behind the desk when I checked it out disagreed–one said Broken Flowers was boring and pointless, the other said it was great. I found it deliberately paced and subtle. Much was made of Murray’s understated performance, but two other things stood out for me. One, the formerly lovely Jessica Lange was nearly unrecognizable for the wrong reasons–artificially up-tilted almond eyes. Two, Tilda Swinton was unrecognizable with a cloud of dark hair, smudged eye makeup, and no trace of her native accent. Her character burned up the screen.
#19 in my movie challenge for the year, Wedding Crashers is a serviceable comedy that ably showcases how funny Vince Vaughn is (his annoying-ness is well-modulated here, unlike in Made) and how charming Owen Wilson is. Blonds aren’t usually my thing, but I’d make an exception for Owen.
#18 in my movie challenge for the year, Triplets is simultaneously creepy and wonderful, with distinctive art and delightful music.
#17 in my movie challenge for the year, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit begs only one question in my mind: could those bunnies be cuter?
#16 in my movie challenge for the year, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was on TMC’s month of Oscar roster. Both clever and funny, it has aged suprisingly well, both technically and narratively.
#15 in my movie challenge for the year. This is the movie I wanted to see a few months ago, but went to see March of the Penguins instead, becoming perhaps the only person to hate that film. Better pimps than penguins, I say. No one picked the pimp song to win an Oscar, which I found strange. Is it possible to see Hustle and Flow and not be humming that tune, no matter the lyrics? I also appreciated how the story had an easily predictable path that the creators did well to avoid.
#14 in my movie challenge was The 40-Year-Old Virgin. Sweet and smart, it’s the best modern comedy in recent memory. Paul Rudd, especially in the sequence at the end, thows himself into his role with delicious abandon. I wish this movie had received Oscar attention for best actor, film, and original screenplay.
After Drake was born, we had our three Netflix movies for three months, then finally returned them unwatched and cancelled our subscription. I’m not exactly sure what’s different, but since Guppy was born, I’ve seen twelve movies, three in theaters. Perhaps it’s that Guppy sleeps more than did Drake. Perhaps it’s that we don’t quibble about watching a movie with him–we put Drake to bed, watch a movie, then (try to) put Guppy to bed. Perhaps it’s the combination of giving myself a movie challenge, which puts it higher on my awareness and priorities. But I’m averaging two movies a week, both for the year and since Guppy was born. In case you want to congratulate me, though, please know that my house is filthy, my blog entries have been sparse, and my other writing has received almost no attention. Guppy and Drake are clothed and fed, at least.
Three years ago when I shopped for a single stroller I didn’t feel there was a lot of consumer information on which to base a purchase. Yet the dearth that there was (a scanty comparison by Consumer Reports, a decent comparison in Baby Bargains, and highly unreliable personal accounts online) came to seem a relative abundance when my husband and I began to research double strollers recently.
Most feedback favors the side by side instead of the inline style, both for maneuverability and so that both children can see. We first checked out the Combi Twin Savvy and the Maclaren Twin Traveller. Both seemed fine for light, mostly indoor use. I walk a lot, though, and one of the things I like about our neighborhood is that we’re within a mile of our grocery store and two libraries, so I need something that can go up and down curbs, over rough sidewalks, and through the snow. Neither the Combi nor the Maclaren looked up to this kind of travel, so we looked at jogging strollers instead.
The less expensive jogging strollers have a fixed front wheel. In order to change direction, you have to press down on the back wheels so the front one lifts up, then adjust the front. This would be fine if I were running in mostly a straight line.
Pivoting wheels on a double jogging stroller solve the maneuverability problem, but just about double the average price. While the Maclaren, Combi, and fixed-wheel models are priced between about $200 and $350, pivoting-front wheelers start at over $500. We found three models: the Bob Revolution Duallie, the Mountain Buggy Urban Double and the Phil and Ted Twin. Fortunately, we found a good local store, Baby Grand, that carried all three models so we could compare them in person, since information on the web was sometimes sketchy (Phil and Ted don’t even have info on the twin model on their website. Their E3 double is great in theory, and apparently the big thing in NYC, but we want Guppy to have a view other than that of Drake’s bum.)
The Bob has only a single front wheel, and is the least expensive at just over $500. The Mountain Buggy and the Phil and Ted have double front wheels, cost over $600, and are significantly (about 40 cm) shorter in length than the Bob. All three are comparable in width and fit through most doorways. The Bob has the best canopy coverage, and would not require anything additional for sunscreen. You could also access your kid through the back of the canopy, which could be very useful. Both the Mountain Buggy and the Phil and Ted have short, inadequate canopies that are most likely designed so that one also purchases the extended cover, at about $75, making them even more expensive. The Phil and Ted had a forward center of gravity, which made it harder to lift the front wheels than on the other two. We came very close to choosing the Bob, because of its price, its canopy and its overall function, but in the end went with the Mountain Buggy because the seats on the Bob don’t recline. The Bob is better for two children of the same age, or at least two older children, not one like our Guppy who’s only a few weeks old. The Bob also had a more detailed restraint. It was more a stroller for a true runner than for someone like me, who merely walks a lot in the city.
I’ve taken the Mountain Buggy out twice now, and it handles like a dream. Going up and down curbs is easy, and both boys enjoy the ride. We ordered a canopy extender rather than what Mountain Buggy offered, and while it annoys me to have to spend so much more when the Bob had such a great canopy included, I did appreciate that I could have Guppy sitting up, supported by a Snuzzler, or lying down when asleep, which I would not be able to do with the Bob.
I’ve written before that I do not want this site to be a mommy blog, but if you look at my recent infrequent posts, I know that’s what it looks like. I’m not going to apologize, though. It’s just that the mom stuff is very front and center for me now that we have a new baby in addition to a two year old. Their needs are often necessarily in advance of mine, and blogging falls pretty low on Maslow’s hierarchy, though I’m sure Maslow’s list for a mom of a new baby is different from the general one. For instance, need for sleep now trumps need for food, and Maslow doesn’t even mention the need for a shower.
A Mom’s Credo has been banging about in my head like Athena, though, and I think it encapsulates a lot of what this weblog is about, and why I write it:
Be I sleep deprived, covered in spit up, unshowered, and clinging to my last frayed nerve, I will continue to pursue a life of mind. My own needs are physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. I may need to delay my own fulfillment of these needs to meet more immediate ones of my children, but I refuse to forego them.
***
For example, I resume this after fetching a crying Guppy after his nap, waking Drake from his nap, and putting on a sling, in which I now nurse the baby while typing one handed.
My friend Blogenheimer posted this link to The Online Film Critics Society’s Top 100 Overlooked Films of the 1990s. Curiously, the list doesn’t state what the “overlooked” criteria are, but since there are many movies on the list I haven’t even heard of, I won’t quibble about it. I’ve seen a little more than a third of the movies on the list, and agree that they were worthwhile, even if it was only in a ‘I liked this movie because of this specific thing’ way.
One of my husband G. Grod’s favorites–the Coen Brothers’ Miller’s Crossing–leads off the list. Particular favorites of mine include 45. My Neighbor Totoro, 63. Croupier, 75. Bottle Rocket, 86. The Secret of Roan Innish, and 99. Titus.
I do, though, quibble at the inclusion of Steven Soderbergh’s The Limey. It was a very good film, but not as good, and not as overlooked, as his previous one, Out of Sight, starring current media darling George Clooney and an actress who many believe can’t act, though I believe Out of Sight proves them wrong. Out of Sight also stars the very talented Don Cheadle.
Now that he’s a big brother AND he’s two, Drake continues to exhibit some strong opinions and spectacular tantrums if he doesn’t get his way. Of late, there are a few things that my husband G. Grod and I are no longer able to do if Drake is in the vicinity. He insists on doing them, and throws a spectacular tantrum if we don’t let him, or if, out of habit, we forget and do these simple things ourselves: flush the toilet (though he still refuses to use the toilet); use the microwave; put the lid on his sippy cup; and even more random, pass a burp cloth.
In some ways, though, these are easy to handle, because Drake is consistent about them. He ALWAYS wants to do them himself. Other things sometimes bother him and sometimes don’t, like turning the pages of books, opening the garage door, and unlocking the car.
Monday was supposed to be the first day of new life as usual, but Minnesota got a blizzard with about 10 inches of snow in about as many hours, so G. Grod’s bus wasn’t running to work and he had a snow day. Plus we have kind friends who are bringing us dinner, so we’re hardly left to our own devices.
Getting computer time at all is hard, and having time to write is even harder. And thinking of something quasi-intelligent to say? Ha. I’ve had two very bad nights in a row. I don’t think Guppy has colic, but he is definitely having more trouble at night than during the day. I hold him in the dark, and whimper, “Please, please, just go to sleep.” He’ll usually be up for the two hour feeding interval between 11 and 1, then I’ll get an hour or so between the next few intervals when he wakes at 3, 5 and 7. Someone once told me that sleep deprivation is cumulative, and I’m feeling five weeks of it.
I’ve meant to chronicle some of the firsts as I went. I spent the two weeks after he was born mostly in PJs, only getting dressed to take Guppy for his 1-week checkup. My first solo outing was to the grocery coop. My first outing with Guppy alone was in the stroller to the coffee shop. I took both boys to an indoor gym playdate a few days later. I got there 15 minutes before it ended, but by goodness, I got there. G. Grodd and I went out for birthday sushi. Guppy was in the car seat, and he slept through the entire meal, in spite of slow service. Next, all four of us went to the coffee shop. Then last Friday I put Drake in the stroller and Guppy in the Bjorn and we walked to the coffee shop, the park, the pizza place and home. My next challenge will be taking both boys either to the coop or to Target by myself. I’m in no rush, and I don’t fool myself that it won’t be difficult. Drake is doing pretty well with the big brother thing, but he is throwing some truly spectacular tantrums over some truly trivial things of late, so we’re taking care not to push things.
As for me and the sleep deprivation, I realized yesterday, after he got sopping wet, that I’d put pants on Drake but forgot his diaper. Oops.
In spite of it all, though, I’m managing to get some reading, movies and TV. I’m still ruminating on the last few episodes of Battlestar Galactica, and peeved that I have to wait till October for new ones. I think I’ll try to get some one-line reviews up when I get a chance. Or if I get a chance. Sigh.
One of the intake questions at the hospital where I gave birth was, “Are you under any stress at home, such as a remodeling project?”
Well, um, yeah, we had to admit. The day before I went into labor we’d had an electrician install a heater in our basement bathroom and expand our electric box, the day after labor we had a new washer and dryer delivered, and prior to the baby’s due date we’d hoped to have our old sink removed and a new one plus a dishwasher installed. Alas, Guppy had other plans, which put the sink plans on hold until yesterday.
The last of our out-of-town family visitors left on Sunday. Sink demolition began the day after. While we continue to put off starting whatever life will be as a family of four, we are very much looking forward to having a dishwasher.
As you may have guessed, I haven’t posted recently because I gave birth to Drake’s little brother. I went in for my 38 week checkup on Tuesday the 7th with contractions that went from about 5 minutes apart to about 3 minutes apart while I was there. The doc said I could go home to collect my husband and my things, but then I was due at the hospital. My husband’s ride home from work kindly dropped him off at the clinic rather than at home so he could pick up me and our car. My sister Sydney was staying with us to help with Drake.
We got to the hospital about 6:30. I was in labor for another 5 hours or so, everything going great, using my hypnobirthing techniques and breathing, and certain that I was ready push. Then the nurse checked me, and I was only dilated to 4, a mere half centimeter more than I’d been on admittance. That was a low, low moment. I did all the usual cliches–begged for drugs, cried that I was tired, in pain and couldn’t do it, but my husband, doula and the nurse kept assuring me that I was doing it, and just before 3 am I gave birth, having had no drugs. I still can’t believe I did it. Those last few hours are indescribable in a difficult way. The moment of his birth is indescribable in an entirely different way. We had no problems of positioning, elevated heart rate or meconium as we did with Drake. I did end up with two smallish tears, but nothing like last time. The new guy was 8 pounds,2 ounces and 21 1/2 inches long, in spite of arriving two weeks before his due date.
He sleeps a lot, though not necessarily between 11pm and 6 am, and is napping on my chest in a sling as I type. We finally revealed his name to family and friends; we’d kept it a closely guarded secret. Both his first and middle names were ones that we liked and that are also, incidentally, family names. For the purposes of the blog, though, I’ll call him Guppy.
We’re all tired but doing well. Posts may be a bit sporadic in the coming weeks, but I’ll do what I can, when I can.
Well, yes, at nine months pregnant I am rather larger than I was previously, but still, as I waddle about, struggling with heartburn, hip and back pain, and various other unpleasantries, it doesn’t help to be reminded.
I remind myself, though, that I’m in the home stretch of this pregnancy that’s been less than smooth. My definition of annoying has had to expand a lot, encompassing everything that’s not outright dangerous. Soon, I’ll have a whole different set of issues.
The important things to remember, though, are that I’m healthy, and Drake’s imminent sibling seems healthy, too. I’m going to try and keep us that way through labor and delivery.
Lately I am frustrated that I am less active and less creative–writing both for the blog and on my novel has been difficult. The only thing I don’t have trouble writing is lists. Yet I know this is a phase. Conventional wisdom says I’m nesting. I’m feeling very inward and static, which is yin, according to Chinese philosophy. I will swing back to the complementary yang eventually, expanding once again creatively and intellectually.
#13 in my movie challenge for the year was Lawrence Kasdan’s western, Silverado. The good guys are all very good. The bad guys are all very bad, and further, they all wind up dead by the end. Sorry if I’m spoiling anything for you. This movie contains every plot point from every western, yet its energy and good will let it transcend cliche. A young Kevin Costner plays a charming, immature cowboy. This was apparently Kasdan’s way of apologizing for cutting him out of The Big Chill almost entirely. (Costner played the dead guy, whose funeral was the occasion for everyone else to get together. They filmed scenes with him, but none made it into the final cut.) Silverado isn’t a great film, but it’s a good movie with a good heart that’s a lot of fun to watch.