Parasite

We've had some.  We will have some more soon, no doubt.
I prefer the ones that stay on the outside of my body.
But that rules out reproduction.  And pin worms.

You Can't Say You Weren't Warned

I listened to a podcast last night about pregnancy.... (Just as a disclaimer, I listen to a lot of podcasts mostly on more pleasant topics like science fiction, economics or astrophysics)

This reminded me how little I liked the physical state of being pregnant,  particularly the public, performative aspects of it.  The constant vomiting wasn't very nice either, but still preferable to having strangers address me as "Mommy" and pat my belly.  

But it's funny how after 10 years of parental indignities, I can barely remember how indignant I was about that sort of thing. 

I'm Going To Pull My Other Penis Out

The "other penis" statement is a direct quote.  The speaker had a long twisted piece of paper shoved down in his pants at the time.  

My younger son protested that this one didn't have a well developed head.  I told him maybe it didn't need one right now.

Is That Really The Best You Can Do?

I was thinking that this was a big guy with a tiny head, but when my sons looked at it, they told me that the head was perfectly sized.  

The bottom photo is show the sort of  high tech armature I use to hold these floppy clay things up until they dry.

Fear Of Dodgeball

There is dodgeball stress even at my kids pacifistic Quaker School.  

But maybe it should be more about catching, rather than dodging.

Because It Has Been That Kind Of A Day

How Angry Am I?

 

 I had other plans for this one, building it as a scaffold for something else.  But it seemed to be done enough without the additions.

I was listening to an NPR interview with the author Claire Messud while I was making it.  The opening line of her new book is "How angry am I?" and is probably being asked rhetorically, because the narrator, a thwarted artist is really angry.

In the case of the small people who live in my house, it is a question that often needs an answer.  Trivial frustrations can lead to apocalyptic fury, but one never knows just how furious any given fury will become.  And by one, I mean the furious person, not just the bystander.
Although fury is infectious, so perhaps there is no bystander.

What Makes You So Special?

"Mom, there's poop on the couch!"
"How did poop get on the couch?"
"I don't know!  I just found it there....Well....maybe it came from my finger."

The wise questioner will perhaps not follow up with a question about how it got on the finger.
 I now almost look back with fondness on the time when all of the focus was scatological...
Almost.

Does Someone Need A Hug?

My older son spent the first few weeks of his infant brother's life constantly declaring, "I NEED to hug the baby!"

...."Hug" being perhaps synonymous with "crush," "dominate" or maybe even "obliterate."

While some genuinely affectionate hugging does happen now, there is usually an aggressive quality to even the most benign gesture.

I'm Going To Tear Your Head Off

 

 

If my sons could remove their own heads and throw them, they would.  

And cutting one's own head off to spite one's body... or one's mother, for that matter, has much appeal also.

This image has certainly appeared in my work before: here, and here.  But with a very different meaning, although I guess desperation and idiocy is relevant in all cases.