Thursday, January 30, 2014

Ivy Lou Turned 2

Well, it happened.
My baby became a kid.

Stephen's parents flew in for the birthday weekend and we started celebrations with some pancakes. It quickly became apparent that Ivy does not like fire.

But she does like presents. As she sat down to open her gifts she said, "Okay! Here I go!" which is her longest string of words ever. She was either really good at faking enthusiasm or genuinely excited about everything she received, including the socks that I purchased to make my order total eligible for free shipping.

We spent the afternoon at the zoo, cause, you know, it was a day that ends in "y". We're at the zoo all. The. Time. As we pulled into the parking lot Ivy said, "Monkey, lion, quack quack," quack quack referring to the geese and peacocks that roam the grounds. Ivy chased a peacock for a good ten minutes, and we fed half a bag of popcorn to the geese. We also saw a baby leopard, performing sea lions, and zip-lining monkeys. Mary and Phil (the Walter parents) took Ivy for a ride on the carousel, a real birthday miracle, and I have one million pictures of their blurry faces on the back of a ceramic cheetah, like so:

It was a short visit for Mary and Phil who flew home that evening, and Stephen, Ivy and I spent the rest of the night watching Brave and eating popcorn.

The next day, her actual birthday, we had my aunt, uncle and cousins over for dinner and cake. They have kept us alive and nourished these past two and a half years with Sunday dinners at their house, and we decided it was finally time to return the favor so they joined us in our shoebox apartment. But because I am apparently incapable of photographing anything or anyone beyond my child, I have no proof that guests were actually in attendance.

Anyway. Here's the cake. It's a frog. My vision of what I wanted the cake to be was a lot less sloppy, but my vision didn't account for my lack of piping bags and tips. 

Still afraid of the candle flames, this is as close as she would get.

Two years ago, when I was waiting for Ivy's arrival, I'd take long walks around the neighborhood to try and jolt my body into labor. Everyday I listened to "She's a Rainbow" and everyday I grew more excited (read: unbelievably anxious, irritable, and impatient) to meet my baby girl. When she finally did make her appearance, she did not disappoint. 

I can't believe it's been two years. I can't believe this sweet kid is mine.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Dear Beyonce

Hey Bey,
How are things?
Things are good here. We're out of toilet paper so I'll have to go to Target later, but other than that, no complaints.

So. Girl. Listen.
I heard about your album debut. Congratulations! That must have taken a ton of work. And to not tell anyone about it? Super impressive.

The thing is though, I kind of feel like I've been ripped off with one song in particular.

Exhibit A:

A duet. With your daughter. Your daughter named Ivy.

This is clearly a blatant copy of the single I released last fall:

It got 40 hearts on Instagram, so there's no way you didn't hear about it.

I'm sure there's some way we can settle this without a lawsuit. Maybe you can send me royalties?
I'll be in touch.


Monday, January 13, 2014

Meck, irishus, and accidental obscenities.

We're rounding the corner on Ivy's second birthday and she has the vocab to prove it, though it takes a fair amount of listening and concentration to determine what it is she's trying to say.

Ivy calls me by my first name, or her version of my first name: Meck. "Meck!" she yells first thing in the morning. "Meck?" she implores while knocking on the bathroom door.

She learned to say "no way", and then decided that "way" belongs at the end of lots of words. Bottles are now called bottle-ways, water is water-way, and popcorn is cockaway.

"Cookie" is a favorite word.

A particularly tasty meal is declared "irishus" (delicious), and she'll say "yum" as she force-feeds her parents goldfish.

Her pronunciation of both "Frog" and "Fork" are extremely profane, as is the way she says "sit."

But some words she's mastered. She still says, "Bye! See you!" but now with so much bravado you would think she was yelling it from the upper deck of a luxury ocean liner to the bon-voyagers on the dock below.

She says "NICE!" every time she throws a ball, and "BUBBLES!" every time she hears bath water running. She can count to ten, but usually counts to 5 and then adds some letters.

Her favorite word by far is Ollie, and she spends all day lecturing the dog, sometimes ending her thoughts with "Amen."

I'll close with a direct quote: "I see Doggie! Woof! Meow?"

Monday, January 6, 2014

A mostly true story.

My conversation with Key Bank's customer service hotline:
"Good afternoon, thank you for calling key! How can I help you today?"
"Hey there. I misspelled the answer to my security question and now I'm locked out of my online account."
"Okay ma'am, that's no problem, I just need to ask you some questions so we can verify your account."
"Great. Thanks."
"My pleasure, ma'am. First question, what date did you open your account?"
"Oh gosh. Um. It was ten years ago. Maybe nine. I think it was the summer time? Let's say 2005."
"Ma'am, how much is currently in your account?"
"Not a lot."
"Ma'am, I need an amount."
"Well that information is online and I'm locked out of my account."
"Okay ma'am, and what is the location of the branch where you opened the account?"
"Ma'am I need the exact address."
"Oh. Well. That information is online. And I can't get into my account. Which is why I'm calling. Remember?"
"Ma'am I need the branch location."
"University Parkway?"
"Okay ma'am, and what time of the day did you open the account?"
"Yes. Also, if you could describe the weather and the color of shirt you were wearing and the name of the mayor of Cincinnati at the time."
"Wait, what?"
"Ma'am what was the amount of your last deposit?"
"Again, that information is online."
"Okay ma'am, can you describe what you ate for lunch?"
"Leftover what?"
"Okay ma'am. Edward or Jacob?"
"Jacob. I guess."
"Interesting choice, ma'am. Okay at this time I cannot verify your account."
"But why?"
"Ma'am I cannot tell you which answers were incorrect."
"It was Jacob, wasn't it."
"Ma'am, at this time, I cannot tell you which answers were incorrect."
"Okay. Well what else can I do?"
"Ma'am, you can visit your nearest Key Bank location. Thank you for calling Key!"

My conversation with the manager at my nearest Key Bank location:
"Hey there. I misspelled the answer to my security question and now I'm locked out of my online account."
"Okay ma'am, that's no problem, I'll just need to call customer service."