Saturday, February 27, 2010
Now that we've been at it a little while...
Are you a "twenty-ten" or a "two thousand ten?"

I'm a firm "twenty-ten" myself.
"C" is for...
Caterpillar, cake, and cupcake.


Car, carrot, cat, and cookie.

Friday, February 26, 2010
My new comments
If you read my comments or try to post one you'll find that it's different. JS-Kit bought out Haloscan around a year ago and left things as they were. Until now. Now my Haloscan has turned into Echo and they want $12 a year to continue the service. I'm thinking about it. I really don't know that I have any alternatives where I don't end up losing the access and easy linkage to nearly five years worth of comments.

Just be aware that it appears you need to log in the first time you comment. If you hit the drop down box it gives you a list of options you're probably already using. Sorry for the sudden change. It wasn't my idea.
Too clever by half
We went out to dinner Wednesday night at the Inn. We had to ride herd on Emma constantly because she cannot seem to use a quiet voice. She's too loud, she doesn't want to stay in her seat, she's just not great to have along at the Inn. When the (rotund) chef came out to visit with the kids Emma asked her if she ate a lot. Oy, the whole experience was a headache.

On the way home I explained to her that I was disappointed in her behavior. We talked about the loud voice, about the fact that she doesn't listen, and about how she probably hurt the chef's feelings. I wanted her to understand. She started to sniffle and argue back. Always the arguing. I knew I was getting through because Emma's feelings were hurt. Finally, she tried another tack. "You're never proud of me." "Emma, yes I am." "When are you proud of me?" Honestly, I had to think hard because she's been a bit trying lately with the arguing about every single thing. I offered that I was proud that she'd been good shopping with us Saturday. "When's the last time you were proud of me?" There was a lot of silence on my end. Mainly because I was thinking to myself something I could never say out loud. I'm proud that my five year-old daughter is clever enough to try to back her mom into a rhetorical corner. Nicely done.
Jack, the other kind
My son is obsessed. Now that he's mobile he has one goal on the floor of the living room. To reach the phone jack on the wall. To get there he has to crawl over the nasty, hairy dog bed. That's the main reason I don't want him doing it. What happens to the phone jack or cord is only a secondary consideration. We'll put up a barrier of toys and he'll tear past it. Or he'll sit in the middle of the floor, seeming to contentedly play with one of his toys...until he flings it to the floor and bolts for the jack. We have to keep a constant eye on him because he rarely gives up completely. Stinker.
Pocket Pocket God
I love my iTouch. There is so much to do with it. It's quickly become a necessary sidekick for me. I've bought lots of apps based on rave reviews. Some I like, some not so much. One app I bought, based on the rave reviews, was "Pocket God." They describe it thusly:
If you were a GOD what kind of god would you be? Benevolent or vengeful? Play Pocket God and discover the answer within yourself.

On a remote island, you are the all-powerful god that rules over the primitive islanders. You can bring new life, and then take it away just as quickly. Exercise your powers on the islanders. Lift them in the air, alter gravity, hit them with lightning...you're the island god!

It's kinda cute because the islanders, the pygmies, are cute and they adore you because...well...you're God. But most of the gameplay involves the pygmies being expendable. They fall in the ocean and drown, they burn up, the zombies get them, the shark gets them...all this is controlled by you. Me, I get a twinge of conscience killing off digital pygmies. I've played with it enough to know my way around. But it doesn't really capture me.

So imagine my surprise when my five year-old discovered the game and found killing off pygmies to be HILARIOUS! She giggles her butt off as the pygmies meet their fate. She thinks they're cute, too, but `"they're so funny when they go splat!" It's hard to convey how funny she finds all of this. Now that twinge I feel worry that my daughter is having too much fun at this.