William's First Halloween

I went trick-or-treating tonight for the first time in ten years (yes, I trick-or-treated until I was 18) and this time there were no "Aren't you a little old for this?" comments. Sweet! Babies can be quite useful in scoring free candy.

The pictures above were taken at the Ontario Early Years Centre near my house. It was a Halloween party there today. Kind of exactly the same stuff went on as any other day, except all the kids were dressed up. For those of you who can't tell because the disguise is so clever, William is the one dressed as a dinosaur/lizard/Godzilla-thing. His best friend Aedan is the lion.

Girl's Night Out. (and why we should always bring a male with us)

The following is a transcript of the interaction we had at the end of the night after the one male we had in our group left for the night:

Nearly deserted Lion's Head Pup in Hamilton, INT. Approximately 2 am. Four women, V, B, A, and ME, sitting around the table. None of us are drunk enough for the encounter that is about to take place.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Hey ladies, I hope you don't mind me asking but how old are you ladies?

V,B,A and Me go around the table and stupidly give our real ages (all between 26 and 28).

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: (seemingly pleased that we are legal): The reason I ask is that my friend and I think you ladies are very attractive.

V,B,A and Me giggle nervously

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: (indicates scraggly friend): This here's Pirate Man. You seen that Pirate's of the Carribean? Well this here's the Pirate of the Carribean. This here's Johnny Depp.

JOHNNY DEPP does bad drunken pirate impression.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING:: You girls wanna dance?

A: It's not really that type of atmosphere. Nothing personal.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Nothing sexual. We just want you girls to have a good time. (pats ME on shoulder) I feel like you girls are like my daughters. I'm just dear ol' dad here.

V,B and ME loudly compare wedding rings. A unfortunately doesn't have one.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: (reaches across the table and grabs A's hand): You especially, your beauty just penetrates.

A: Penetrates what?

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Any you girls wanna dance?

A: As I said before, not really that type of bar.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Nothin sexual just making sure you girl's have a good time. Say I never got your names.

V,B,A and ME go around the table and stupidly give our real names.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: That's okay I understand if you don't give your real names. I'm Howard the Duck and this here's Johnny Depp, the Pirate of the Carribean.

Me: Howard the Duck? That's an obscure reference.

B: I was a just a kid when that movie came out.

V: Yeah, that's kind of before our time.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Say, can I ask you, can I ask you ladies. Any of you wanna dance?

B: I don't like this music.

V: No thank you.

A: No.

ME: We really don't want to dance!

JOHNNY DEPP: Nothin' sexual.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: (inches closer to me on bench, I move away, he inches closer again) We ain't trying to pick you's up, we just want you ladies to have a good time.

ME: You go ahead and dance. Don't let us stop you.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING and JOHNNY DEPP get up and do a weird homo-erotic chicken dance around the bar. CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING makes a point of flexing his muscles.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: They're alot smaller than when I was young. We're old men compared to you girls.

V, B, A, and ME nod our heads in agreement.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING sits down again and squeezes my thigh.

I look away and pretend I don't notice. Attempt to shake him off by crossing my legs.

CREEPY DRUNK 40-SOMETHING: Aren't you girl's pleased to have met Johnny Depp this evening.

JOHNNY DEPP tries to hold V's hand.

A: Well it's getting late.

ME: Yes! Let's go!

V (stands): Nice to meet you guys, bye.

V,B,A and ME leave quickly, rush to the parking lot and drive off. As we're passing the bar on our way home, we see the creepy guys are out on the sidewalk, looking for us. Thankfully, we made it to our vehicle just in time to avoid further harassment.

Other than that it was a fun night. Note: When bar-hopping in Hamilton, always bring a male chaperone.

William Pooed on the Potty!

My goal of producing a baby genius has officially been realized. 8 and a half months old and he pooed in the potty. Why would an eight month old be on a potty in the first place you ask? Well I read recently about "Elimination Communication" aka "Infant Toilet Training" aka "Natural Infant Hygiene", etc. Basically, teaching babies to use the potty from birth. William is considered a "late-starter".

I have an article to write for my magazine writing class, so I've been pursuing this potty thing, half-seriously, as part of my "research". I've been giving him naked-time and cooing "pee-pee" every time he makes a puddle on the floor (which is quite often). Well yesterday I decided we were ready for phase 2, so I bought him a little potty that's low enough to the ground that he can crawl off it if he wants (so as to avoid undo pressure and resulting psychological damage). Well he crawled up to me and I thought, maybe he wants to poo, so I put him on the potty and he went right away! The first day I bought the thing.

And yes, I admit the possibility that this was a fluke. I'm not the tree-hugging hippy you no doubt believe me to be at this point. I still think my baby is a genius though.

Update: it's not a fluke! He pooed on the potty again this morning!

Excuses, Excuses

It's been almost a month hasn't it? There are several reasons (aka excuses) for my absenteeism on this blog. If you would indulge me in a bulleted list:

• My baby crawls. As you might imagine, crawling baby requires much more attention than a stationary, sitting baby, who is fascinated by his own toes. My son is especially talented at testing the limits of baby proofing, using baby radar to detect the most unstable piece of furniture is the room and using sofisticated acrobatic techniques to stand up, vigorously shake the item, and creatively bump his head.
• My writing brain is being used up by school work for an advanced writing course I'm taking. Yes, this is the same course that was cancelled while I was pregnant, and I'm just crazy enough to think that I have time for "investigative reporting"
• The other thing my writing class has done is given me the eroneous impression that every word I write is worth money. One dollar to be precise. That means I've already wasted thousands of dollars that some poor schmuck may have paid me for.
• Every time I think I have the time to do anything for myself, William wakes up from his nap