TV Nation

The dude is entirely too interested in the television. P didn't look at it intentionally until she was about a year old, when we got her the Signing Time DVDs. Even today, she only wants to watch a select number of shows: Signing Time, Mr. Rogers, and Thomas the Train. Her relative innocence regarding all things commercial is actually one of my smug-mama points.

We took the dude in for his DTaP while we were in VA and there was a sticker catalog on the table, you know, those stickers kids get when they go to the doc. Of the 100+ pages, outside of animals, baloons, etc., the only thing she could identify was Thomas. No Barbie; no Bratz; no Strawberry Shortcake, nada. I was really quite proud.

The dude, on the other hand, he has me worried. He's SO tuned in (heh) to the TV. He's obviously very visual: he calms down from just about any situation if you just give him a little eye contact. From across the room. In a mirror. He doesn't care, just LOOK AT ME, FOR GOD'S SAKE, LOOK AT ME!!! It's a little alarming.

The trip to VA was good. I was writing a post about it when my laptop decided to crap out. The battery only holds about 20 minutes' charge now. Oh, the suck. So I'll come back to it and tell you, my friends in the internet, how to get around the TSA if your luggage is soaked in diesel fuel. The More You Know™.

It finally cooled down yesterday. Today it was a bit warmer than I'd like but hey, it wasn't a hundred freaking degrees. On the plus side, another chicken got nailed. Jesus. At least it was someone's dinner, but now I think we're down to one hen. I think the guinea is gone, too. Project the Next: gate and electric fencing for the new chicken yard. Oh, and a coop. Sigh.

Okay, I have NO idea why the font is so fucked up but I've monkeyed with it like five times and it still won't go right so I'm going to say to hell with it and have a drinkiepoo.