This Little Piggy

Needless to say, Son of Jake T. Pig is an excellent oinker. Neither of us can oink this way, Griffin just picked it up from watching the ever-dwindling number of pigs at Ryder's house. One of the aspects of toddler-hood that I really enjoy is watching Griffin pick up skills we didn't teach him. Especially skills he learns directly from pigs.

NEWS FLASH: Guess who successfully peed in the potty? No, not Jake, he's pretty good at it these days. It was Griffin!

This morning Griffin had his first actual pee IN the potty as opposed to NEAR the potty or ON the rug. We're trying to introduce the potty, without introducing stress, guilt or shame, in the hopes that he will eventually pick it up sometime between now and kindergarten. Right now the whole potty thing is very casual. For the first few weeks, the potty was a novelty and Griffin preferred to sit on the potty, while watching TV and getting to know his johnson. When he tired of this activity, he would run into his room and pee on the futon. What a fratboy!



Here is Griffin doing his happy little dance with the toy Uncle Patrick scoured the Bay Area searching for. Those of you who were, or had, 70s babies will remember the pull-the-string toy that went, "The cow says, 'Mooooo'....." Apparently none of the schmancy Bay Area toy stores would lower their standards to carry "mooo-ing" hunks of plastic and were happy to tell Patrick to shove off. I'm of the mindset that you should work at an indie-rock CD store if you want to have that attitude, but thankfully Pat found a Target in El Cerrito that carried the moo-er. Griffin calls it "Farmer" and it is his new favorite toy. I say to the chi-chi boutiques "Moo You!"

If Loving Lilah is Wrong...

Since there is some justice in the universe, Griffin is hitting it off really well with Lilah. We are in talks with the Mince-Didier-Sober-Didier-Sobers to determine dowry and bride price. I'm pretty sure Lilah is worth at least four oxen and a half dozen goats. I'll even throw in a 50 pound sack of rice if they'll hang on to her until after she's done with the whole teen-angst/Twilight phase.

Ave and Sam came up last weekend because Sam heard that Piggy Sue had been taken out like Old Yeller. That man loves pig-related events. Our dear Coonass friends, Clay and Sarah, eloped to Burning Man and the pig roast was their reception/Luau. We stayed out WAY past our bedtimes and didn't get home 'til almost 11. Somebody call the Parent Patrol!



We relive this video 20+ times a day. Griffin will get this happy, wistful look and say, "Lilah. Sippy. Funny," and then he will giggle to himself. I love Lilah's uncomplicated determination to get her mouth on the sippy cup at ALL COSTS. At this preverbal but highly mobile phase, she reminds me of John Belushi as Bluto, lolling drunkenly and menacingly towards her goal. Griffin's only got five pounds on her, but at least he can run faster than she can crawl. For now.



For those of you who truly enjoy the antics of mini-Button and mini-Avo, here is another video of how we roll on a lazy Sunday in Willits. If you aren't already celebrating Becky & Ave Day (November 21st, btw) these videos may get gratuitous, but if you need more G-n-L, check it out.



A few days after Lilah left, Griffin decided he wanted her back. This is how he pines at the window. He also told me he wanted to hold Ave. I'm not sure how Sam is going to take this.

Now if only we could get Maddie Sullivan out here and we could finally have the Baby Beaver Toddler Triumvirate. Our plan for world domination would be in full effect. Little people with big heads shall inhabit the earth. Bwah-hah-hah.

Public Service Announcement

Is your cat unable to follow written instructions? Does she struggle to write her name? Well then, it may be that YOUR cat can't read. Before you drown her in the river- WAIT! There is a better way.

Help defeat the scourge of feline illiteracy by providing your cat with a certified Feline Reading Tutor. We can send one to your home RIGHT NOW to help your bad fat cat learn to read.

Your cat CAN read.


Step One: Our certified Feline Reading Tutor will drag the suspected illiterate cat out from under the table.


Step Two: When selecting books for a beginning feline reader, it is important to consider the cat's interests before making your choice. Books about animals are a good bet, as are Garfield and Heathcliff books. Our trained Feline Reading Tutor has many grade-level books about giraffes, squirrels, farm animals and hippopotamuses. (Potami?)


Step Three: After reading with your feline, our handsome feline tutor will leave some books behind for her to read independently, maybe something by Margaret Wise Brown or Maurice Sendak.


Note: Some particularly reluctant feline readers may be extra challenging and can even resort to sleeping in the hall closet. Our certified Feline Reading Tutor will be persistent. VERY persistent.


We have ways of making cats read.

New Skool

Griffin is going to "school" tomorrow. Wow. That was sudden.

We've often talked about wanting to get Griffin into a half-day, half-week sort of childcare or nanny share so I could finish my masters. Since Griffin was young and the Bay Area notorious for childcare hassles (i.e. you need to sign your baby up while you're trying to conceive,) we just relied on over-educated friends of my cousin, Cass. While I'm, thankfully, already finished with all my coursework, I still have to make up 25 days of student teaching and have a thesis to write.

Now we've moved to Willits, home of many deer and a few people. There is a new Montessori/Waldorf-based infant and toddler center opening five minutes away that is cute and very affordable. Everyone in town knows about everyone else and I have been hearing about it for weeks now. (I have yet to get tired of Willits' lack of options! The Bay Area could be mind-bogglingly wide-open.)

Tomorrow, Griffin's going to Learning Roots Toddler Center on Main Street, right across from the Mariposa Market to spend the morning with Tatiana and her crew. He will be one of seven 18-30 month olds who will comprise the Toddler Class. Today I wrote "Griffin O." on diaper packs, wipes and sippy cups. It was another of the sneaker parenting moments that make you catch your breath- writing my son's name on his things. Here is where it begins.

Since we don't have any pictures of Griffin at school yet, please enjoy these shots from the Laytonville Junior Rodeo. Yee-ha!

Since We've Been Home...

I came very close to slashing my aunt, Joell's, tires this morning as a ruse to keep her and Cindy at our house. I could have gotten away with it in Oakland, since a little auto-vandalism is par for the course, but here in Willits, it couldn't exactly be blamed on rebellious deer. In the end, I had to suck it up and be a big girl, and not clinging to my Mom's leg, begging her to stay and be our unpaid au-pair.

Against my better judgment, we let Cindy and Joell go to the Beach House and Jake and I had to become primary caregivers for our child once again.

Endearing New Trait #1: Baby Talk

I used to think "baby talk" was a really annoying habit of grown-ups and teenagers in love, but I just realized that the babies themselves are the ones who started it. Out of the blue, Griffin has begun adding a "-y" to the end of words. I promise you, we didn't start this. When he whacks his toe with his banging stick, he shrieks, "Toey! Toey!" He loves eating "chippys," talking on his "phony" and trolling night tables looking for the ultimate prize "balmy!" What can I say, the kid likes to moisturize.

Griffin's Summer Trip

Griffin kept busy while we were in Louisiana. He went swimming all the time- the child has no fear of water, likes going under and appears to think he's a capable swimmer. Griffin mud-painted himself in the O'Rear's front yard. The afternoon thundershowers are even better than I remember them and Griffin enjoyed plumbing the warm, wet mud and painting tribal designs on his face.


He caught up on his reading at the local mega-bookstore. They may be a depraved corporate monster, but, hey, they have a swell train table and a whole lot of Dora.


Griffin rode a gi-normous bunny with his Grammy (aka "Nami") at the illustrious Mall of Louisiana. He made his "Carousel Face" which appears to fall directly between "elated" and "about to puke."
Granny Lynn kept Griffin entertained by performing "Creepy Mousie" a record 57 times in a row.
We took Griffin to Louie's for his breakfast initiation. Cheese grits, biscuits and gravy and a deliciously dirty concoction called the Mitchell were made for us by a man some call "Big Ball Fred." You would have loved it.


Griffin used his french toast to call Sam and talk to him about Lilah. Unfortunately, Sam had turned down the ringer on his french toast and they had to catch up later via bacon texting

Grandma Cindy and Grandpa Wil made Griffin feel especially welcome in New Orleans.

Something about the situation unnerved the young lad.


The Potamus ate beignets in the Riverwalk while we waited for the Insectarium to open. Then he ate bugs at the Insectarium. Good boy.

Sure, I felt a little guilty, manipulating my son's trust and good eating habits to get him to eat toasted mealworms, but I ate several Crispy Cajun Crickets, myself. C'mon, people in many cultures consider nibbling larvae a delightful snack.


All of Griffin's NOLA Aunts and Uncles were thrilled to see him and partake of his youthful mayhem.


Eventually, he became too exuberant and tried to beat Aunt Katie with a bat. Fortunate is the boy who has four uncles, two aunts named "Kati(e)," another adoring aunt and three grandmas. It's true that Griffin is sadly short on Pop Pops, but he is still rich in relations.


Since Griffin didn't realize the gravity behind our trip home, he was able to become a gleeful, pint-sized bottle of Lexapro, bringing joy to all who encountered him. Well, everyone except maybe the lady who sat behind us on the plane.


We love you Pop Pop.

Griffin and Kati at Superior Grill

Griffin loves him some Aunt Kati.

Aunt Kati loves her some Griffin.