Archive | August, 2007

News flash: That’s apparently not a family in NJ

By on August 31, 2007 in Miscellaney

Hot off the presses from Dana at Mombian: School Board Upholds Ban on Film Depicting Same-Sex Families. (I posted an All Points Bulletin about this broo-haha over the prizewinning documentary That’s A Family way back in February.)

In a first-person account of the school board meeting by Steven Goldstein, Garden State Equality’s chair, we learn that this is far from the end of the saga.

Our plan, which indeed we’re moving forward with, is:

1. Likely litigation, based on a violation of the state’s Law Against Discrimination, among other grounds
2. The formation of a local organization, United Families of Evesham, to go block by block to educate parents about the film and to work to increase tolerance of all groups of people
3. An Open Public Records Act request, which our friends at the ACLU of New Jersey filed on Thursday. We want to see the behind the scenes deliberations of this tortured vote.

The school board voted to overturn the recommendation of the very committe they appointed (professional educators, social workers, etc.) quite openly because a sizeable minority of homophobic local parents got the better of them:

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Lose some, winsome

By on August 31, 2007 in Anima animus, Baba familias, Re: the lil' monkey

“Let’s play ‘Family,’” says the lil’ monkey this afternoon. How can I say no? Also, how can I not use it as yet another opportunity to massage the concept, yet again? In situ? Under the guise of her initiative?

“When you play ‘Family,’ who is it that’s in the family?” I ask as coyly as I can manage.

“There’s two baby brothers, and two baby sisters.”

“Yes,” I say, “go on.”

“And a Mommy, and a Daddy.”

“So not two Mommies, or two Daddies, or a Mama and a Baba?”

“No, a Mommy and a Daddy.” She’s cheery, and of sound conviction.

I try to investigate just a weeee bit more. Without flooding the room with the stench of didacticism. Nothing spooks an unwitting brainwashing subject more than catching a flash of the propaganda in broad daylight.

“Why do you want there to be a Mommy and a Daddy?” I ask, with as cheery a tone as she’s had all along. Since I actually am cheery. And doing a good job of stuffing the worry down deep in my shorts pockets.

“Cause there are lots of people with Mommies and Daddies. Most people have Mommies and Daddies.” Can’t argue with that, especially when that’s what we’ve been telling her all along. Our line is, most people have a Mommy and a Daddy (we provide illustration from the copious supply of aunts and uncles around her). Some people have two Mommies or two Daddies (again, illustrations from friends she knows). And some people have a Mama and a Baba (e.g., her best chum across the street). From time to time, further elucidation is provided on what a Baba is, technically speaking: a kind of a parent part way between a Mama and a Papa. If you had to say it was more one thing or another, you’d go wtih a Baba being a kind of a Mama.

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APB: Sign the Gulf Coast Recovery Bill of 2007

By on August 30, 2007 in APB


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Dispatches two years out: leaving and coming home.

By on August 29, 2007 in Miscellaney, Seraphim/dakini


Photo by David Rae Morris, part of his gallery “Mr.G. and the Rev.”
Posted on the Lagniappe page at his site.

• The beloved heard this commentary, “Dear New Orleans: I’m Leaving You,” by Eve Troeh on NPR the other day. Eve said,

Now I’m a jilted lover of the city. I’m angry and confused. Which is the real New Orleans? The one that’s violent and desperate? Or the one that coos softly, and caresses me? The answer, of course, is both.

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Baba’s own food delivery & object retrieval system

By on August 28, 2007 in Baba familias, LLLDP, Re: the lil' peanut

Otherwise known as the FD+ORS. Beta-tested on the lil’ monkey, now polished to near-perfection with the peanut. [Caveat: this FD+ORS is applicable during the series of weeks/months between when the kiddle starts to eat spoon-delivered solids, and when said kiddle can reasonably direct spoon to food, then to face. Their face.]

This FD+ORS treatment touches on the following basic issues: setting, materiél, proper frame of mind, use of decoy objects, spooning technique, food detritus clean-up techniques/debates. Included also is an introduction to Baba’s Little Helper, an unpattented device for Object Retrieval.

First, to the setting. Note, in the image above right, that the child is parked at table in a portable baby chair designed for use in restaurants. Floor space is at a premium in a domicile such as ours, in which the kitchen, dining, and living areas all share a room of fairly modest proportions. Dual purpose objects are a must.

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Overheard (1)

By on August 27, 2007 in Re: the bairn

Scene: Little Monkey is tucked into a room taking care of “business” in her diaper. Downstairs Girl Cousin enters, and squats down next to her.

LM: I’m having privacy.

DGC: Can we have have privacy together?

LM: Privacy is when you are by yourself.

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Weekend bonus shot, 08.25.07

By on August 26, 2007 in Mostly a picture, Weekend bonus shot

IMG_0523 copy copy

Wood nymph in diaper, Carmel, CA.

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Scat Friday

By on August 24, 2007 in Nonsense fun, Re: the lil' monkey

Oh, but how I wish I meant the Ella Fitzgerald kind.

Nooooo, no. Alas, it is the lesser kind to which I refer today. The kind that stars in every – okay, not every, but nearly every story and joke uttered of late by the lil’ monkey.

See, last week the scatological dam broke. (I’m not blaming her little chums from the Southland, but the coincidence with our vacationing together does give one pause.) I was tucking her in to bed. We had a delightful time reviewing the hightlights of the day, singing lullabies, things of this nature. Then she’s done with me.

“Go get mama,” she barks, with an unsettling urgency. I do so. We both wait breathlessly to hear the pronouncement.

“Mama! Mama! Why did the poopy diaper cross the road?”

“I don’t know dear,” intones the beloved, gamely, “why did the poopy diaper cross the road?”

“To get to the other poopy diaper!” Tee hee hee hee, burbles the monkey, thinking to herself, I’m sure, “Man, that was funny!”

The next day she was working other classic comedic structures.

“Did you hear the one about the poopy?” she asks me, utterly out of the blue.

“No, dear, I did not.” I try hard not to phone in my lines.

“It combined with pee and became diahhrea!” Woo, I totally did not see that coming.

Where in the Sam Hill does she get this stuff. I truly believe she makes it up. Doctor of Scatology meets Henny Youngman.

The next day she began experimenting with narrative structures. Oh, except with the same featured protagonist.

“Once upon a time there was a poopy,” she began. I could keep going and fill out the story, but I think you get the point.

Then she lured us with an angle she knows is effective: demonstrating fantabulous new vocabulary.

“Mama? I have to tell you a really funny word.” Watch out, though. It’s not exactly a word, per se.

“Once I was mad, and then I farted out A BIG POO!”

Warned you. Not a word.

By now she has featured poo in just about every narrative and comedic delivery mechanism I’m aware of. No, wait, not a sonnet. And not haiku. Though I fear that’s around the corner.

I wish I knew when the end of this phase will be, since it’s not anywhere in sight. All’s I know is, if a talent agent casting for The Aristocrats: Part Deux calls, I am sooo telling them she’s busy.

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