Community

There is a new restaurant in the 'hood, called Community Food & Juice.

Along with Nana, who graced us with her presence (and babysitting skills - suhweet!) on Saturday night, we took Monkey to brunch at Community on Sunday morning.

Two (ok, 3) things were of note:

1. It is necessary to get there early. 45 minutes after the place opened it was jammed with families.
2. The food is awesome.
3. I had completely forgotten how enjoyable it is to eat a meal, in public, without serving as the referee in a food-chucking contest!

Monkey ate her meal (big ole bowl of fresh fruit) and drank out of a real (plastic) cup and only threw, maybe, 3-4 cheerios on the ground!

I felt so civilized, I didn't even know what to do with myself. And, it was nice to not have to leave a 30% tip to pay off the staff for their post-Monkey clean up efforts, including bringing in the power washer to scrub down the table, chairs, floor and any surrounding surfaces coated in semi-chewed cheerios and general toddler debris.

Pig Pen

I am a wee bit anal and like things to be clean. (and yes, I realize that sounds ridiculous...but I think I could be WAY more anal so bear with me, thanks)


I love clean floors and carpets, and being able to walk around barefoot without anything sticking to my feet. It's the simple things in life, right?


I can no longer walk barefoot in our apartment, especially in the kitchen. I just can't stand it. I take three steps and -blammo!- I've got a pulverized cheerio coating the sole of my foot, a partially-chewed raisin wedged between my toes, or some unidentifiable substance is making my skin stick to the floor and making a sick 'thwack' noise as I lift my foot up into the air.


Not only do we have a cleaning lady that comes every two weeks, but on an almost daily (heh, I was about to write "hourly" but that's an exaggeration) basis I sweep and or/scrub the floor in the kitchen. I find myself with a sore back at the end of the weekend, from bending over constantly to pick up a cheerio, dried fruit, or some other piece of garbage.


Somehow I was describing to a colleague this inability to go barefoot (NO clue how our conversation veered there) and mentioned how cheerios get all over the apartment, even though we have a "food stays in the kitchen" rule that is vigorously enforced.

I described how Monkey will have cheerios stuck to her clothing, her hands, her hair, and that is how they get all over the apartment (I think). My colleague laughed and asked if she had a constant cloud of dust and dirt surrounding her, a la "Pig Pen."

Yup, that's my girl.

Chatty Cathy

I have become a modified version of the doll, Chatty Cathy.

Only, when you pull the cord to make me talk? These are the things you will hear me say, over and over and (ahem) over again:

* No no Monkey, we SIT on chairs.

Translation: stop standing on the chair, kid, or you'll fall and break your neck!

* What goes in the garbage, stays in the garbage.

Translation: stop fishing cheerios out of the garbage and eating them, eeeuuuww!

* No no Monkey, we do not touch Ollie's tail.

Translation: stop trying to pick the cat up by her tail, she's hissing for a reason.

* Monkey, food stays in the kitchen.

Translation: stop jumping in and out of the kitchen to test me, kid, you are NOT taking those guaranteed stain-producing strawberries into the living room no matter how many times you try!

Sigh, I've even begun to bore myself!

Cleanliness is next to Godliness....right?

We are desperately trying to get Monkey to not chuck her food on the floor at every single snack and meal.

To this end, to teach her that her actions have consequences, she is supposed to “help” clean up when she does throw her food.

So......what does she do when it is time to pick up the cheerios??? She stomps, precisely, intentionally….and with visible pleasure, on each and every single g*ddamn cheerio, reducing it to dust. Motes of cheerio-dust waft through the air and deposit in a thin layer, all over everything (including me, dad, and our beleaguered cat Ollie).

If cleanliness is next to godliness, we're raising a heathen.