Friday, January 07, 2005

Dear Leta Dooce posted another letter to for her baby daughter.  Again, that kid is going to have some great moments to share with her mom once she's old enough to understand it all. Here's a bit of it. Dear Leta, Today you turn eleven-months-old. Coincidentally, that’s almost three times as long as most of my relationships during college and afterward lasted. You’ve got longevity! Right now you’re in your crib for your morning nap and I am sitting in the living room listening through the monitor to you talking to yourself. Before you fall asleep you also like to pat your right hand against the mattress and kick your left foot up and down. If these habits are any indication, we’ve given birth to the female Stewart Copeland, and if that is the case I can’t wait for you to go on tour and pay for our retirement. We could live with your on your tour bus and drink a couple beers after each show. WHO SAYS YOUR MAMA CAN‘T HANG? This month you’ve learned how to turn in circles while sitting on the floor. I find it somewhat frightening to return to you after running to the bathroom only to find you 180 degrees from the position I left you in. This means I have to be THAT MUCH MORE vigilant about the things within reach of your wingspan. Yesterday I found you flipping through the pages of The Metrosexual Guide to Style which you had somehow snatched off the coffee table (your father won that book as a prize for being the Best Dressed Bowler at a company bowling party). Just as you were about to shove a page into your mouth I rescued the book and moved it far from your rotational reach. Don’t you know? METROSEXUALS DON‘T EAT BOOKS. Consider that lesson number one. For the past two weeks your two top teeth have been trying to make their way into the world. Leta, those two teeth are HUGE. I didn’t know babies could have such gigantic teeth. They are a big as walrus tusks, and I’ve considered pulling them and crafting some ivory jewelry. You can bite through cardboard boxes and rip holes in stuffed animals. Yesterday I gave you a sealed box of Dulcolax to entertain you for just a few seconds while I wiped down the kitchen counters. Within two seconds you had gnawed through the box and were on the verge of puncturing an actual tablet wrapped in plastic coating. I had to shove my fingers into your mouth to dig out portions of the box, and then I picked you up, set you on my hip and called the police. “Please arrest me,” I begged them. The rest of the letter. Related link: Last month's letter 6:34:13 PM     |

How To Make A Big Wave With the tsunamis and their aftermath dominating the news the past couple of weeks, How Stuff Works has put together a very interesting article on how tsunamis are formed.  Dramatic before and after pics included, as well. The rest of the site has more inside scoops for your browsing pleasure.  Oddest one?  How Chupacabras work. 6:15:51 PM     |

© Copyright 2005 Alex L. Mauldin.