pooping yasss

At dinner, a certain look comes over Annie’s face.

Bryan: “Annie, are you pooping?”

Annie: (silence)

Bryan: “Annie, are you pooping? It’s okay if you are.”

Annie: “I pooping yasssss.”

She repeated this half a dozen times when she figured out it made me laugh. It was almost a letdown to discover that she had not, in fact, pooped.

thanks, Obama

Inauguration day and it’s still surreal, but one thing I know I’m feeling is grief for 8 years with a President I respected and admired. My favorite political blogger rounded up some of his major accomplishments, and current events inspire fresh appreciation for the dignified and reasonable way he operated. Obama made me proud to be an American.



I heard Annie say my name yesterday for the first time. We were in the car; someone called; and I talked on the speakerphone while Annie chirped in the background. At the end, my fellow caller said, “Bye, Leslie.” Annie, little parrot, echoed, “Bye-bye Yesyee.”


nature channel

Previously placid Paul has become quite the rowdy fellow. Even during nursing, which used to be a cuddled-up dream state, he has taken to heaving himself around, preferring to eat on his hands and knees, like a piglet grubbing around the forest floor. Both of us connect with our animal natures. I find myself relating to the mother mammal on a nature show, blinking stoically while her young growl and scramble over her teats.