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<rss version="2.0"><channel><description>Hi, I’m Nicole Labry.
I tend to think of this place as a scrapbook of my brain.  (Welcome to Randomtown, population 1).  I live in Austin, TX with 2 mutts, 1 extremely puffy cat, 1 giant boyfriend that resembles a handsome Brawny Towel Man and our teensy daughter, Colette.  She was born May 1st, 2009.  I used to make designy things for a living and would like to one day own my own biergarten.  I like to call myself a humanist.

    



BEFORE:



AFTER:






COLETTE:





THE PROFESSOR:





And our RIDICULOUS pups, Lona and Toolie  (photo courtesy of Chip):






Leaving Comments:
Comments can be entered UNDER each post.  I know it looks like the comment link is above each post, but that just ain’t the case…  and I haven’t figured out how to fix it just yet!  Also, you don’t have to register with disqus to leave a comment.  Talk to me- I like to hear your opinions!

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</description><title>Le Blog</title><generator>Tumblr (3.0; @nicoolio)</generator><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/</link><item><title>Holidaze spirit!</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Oh hey, blog!  How’s it going?  I know, right?  Twice in a month, it’s like a recent record or something!  Well, I tell ya what.  I promise to try and make it back here more often.  Honest.  I’ll put some effort into it, and, uh, maybe we can breathe a little more life into this here relationship, whaddya say?  Kew.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You know, Internet, I just want to tell you something.  Radio silence is sometimes a good thing.  I mean, how many posts about Colette can you really stand?  Well, I’ll just get that part out of the way and see if I can muster up any other material.  Colette is really really really super cute and doing fantastic.  Her sleeping schedule is driving me crazy (oh, hey, look I’m an average parent like the rest of ‘em!), and she’s starting to eat more solid foods but still on 95% milk diet.  Tonight we learned that the child &lt;strike&gt;likes&lt;/strike&gt; loves potatoes.  So she IS mine after all!  Her eyes are decidedly set in an undecipherable color scheme: forest-greenish-grey-with-hazely-parts-in-the-center.  That’s a color, right?  Whatever.  It’s beautiful.  Hmm, what else?  This week we got our first family illness and there was a silver lining: the whole family at home.  Together.  For 2 whole days in a row!  Just us!  Just a cold, and not even really that bad, but also not great, because, you know, it’s still us being sick.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We decided today that this cold has bumped us off track far enough that we won’t make it to Thanksgiving in the Panhandle to see Colby’s family as planned.  Le lame.  I was hoping to introduce little miss long-toes to her partners in attenuated digit having (because we know that crap didn’t come from me).  Well, no such luck yet.  We’re hoping to get there after Christmas and before the New Year instead.  The good part of this otherwise drag of a holiday so far spent on a couch with a bunch of hot toddies and Chinese herbs and terrible-tasting cough syrup, is the fact that I will be spending the Saturday after Thanksgiving with my dad’s side of the family.  This is not to be taken lightly, for it happens to be my very favorite most highly esteemed day of the year.  Simply put, I. LOVE. IT.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The post-Thanksgiving Saturday at my dad’s house is always an eclectic crew with an unwavering core that can be counted on every year, and then of course the rotating floaters (including myself) that drift in and out of the festivities depending on the year.  Yes, it is a bit sad that I fall into that latter category, but it’s also necessary when you’re in a partnership as I am.  Colby and I have an agreement, and that agreement states that we spend one year with Thanksgiving at my parents and Christmas with his and then switch every year to spend rotating holidays with each others’ families.  So far it’s worked pretty well although I don’t really care about Christmas as much as he does and he doesn’t care about Thanksgiving as much as I do.  Perhaps we should make a different plan, you might think, whereby we always spend Thanksgiving with mine and Christmas with his.  But then… you see… I might miss out on the occasional Christmas in New Orleans which happens to be the plan for this year.  And you know I ain’t missin’ THAT!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I’m sorry, Internet.  I really just don’t have a lot of interesting things to tell you right now.  Let me get through the holidays and come back with some better fodder, OK?  I just wanted to stop in and let you know that I am making an effort to be here more often, starting now.  Before I leave, I’ll tell you a lovely story from this afternoon.  You see, I was on my way around town making a run of returns of junk that has been piling up in my house.  A tent used once with a broken zipper: returned to Academy even without the receipt for in-store credit.  I’ll take it!  Next, a never-before-opened-still-in-the-box infant air vaporizer doo-dad on its way back to Babys R Us (I hate them so bad!!!), complete with receipt- aaaaaand forget it.  That’s right, forget about it.  The salesgirl told me that I hadn’t returned it within the requisite 90 days (people, I HAD A BABY IN THE INTERIM), so I should probably just take it to Goodwill because I could get a tax write-off.  Oh, yes, right… what the hell does a stay at home mom even need a tax write off for???  Sigh.  And so, I hauled the damned thing back into my car, cursing their misspelled sign.  It actually reads “7th Circle of Hell”, but it’s spelled wrong, so it just &lt;i&gt;looks&lt;/i&gt; like “Babys R Us”.  Dammit.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Next up: I love you, Costco.  But don’t think I made it there without incident.  Oh, no.  There I was, driving along the feeder of 183 when some young lady in a giant SUV cut me off.  Do you want to make my blood boil?  I have a BABY in the car and you pull that stunt… instant boiling blood!  I notice she’s on the phone.  GRRRRR.  I pull up behind her at a stop-light and when she looks in the rear-view mirror, I make the sign language for, “HANG UP AND DRIVE”.  Yes, I’m guilty of talking and driving sometimes too, but I really do try not to do it on the highway, and if someone made that sign to me after I’d cut them off, you know, the thumb and pinky phone and then hands on the steering wheel signs- I would sheepishly hunch up my shoulders and wave, “oops, sorry!”  That’s, uh, not exactly the reaction I got.  No, actually, what I got was a big ole stiff middle finger.  Are you kidding me?!!!  You are traffic-jerk and then flip ME off?  What the???  And she was PISSED!  She did it over and over again like she was having some sort of seizure.  So, uh, I went ahead and did it back (hey, Colette don’t know middle finger from nothin’ yet).  Except my version was double-handed and all dance-y like to make fun of her.  I think she must have really liked my interpretive middle finger dance, because she started getting really frenzied with that one finger.  Man, she was INTO it.  It was then that I looked in MY rear-view mirror and found the lady behind me laughing hysterically.  She’d seen it all.  And it was pretty funny, after-all.  So I giggled the rest of the half-mile to CostCo.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I then returned a VERY used item (something that is supposed to sweep your floor but doesn’t work for crap), for CASH back even though it’d been almost a YEAR and the price had changed on it.  Bless you, Costco, for you totally just made my day.  That’s right, this is the kind of thing that makes my day these days.  I told you, Internet, I’m boring now.  And with that, I’m off to bed.  It’s past 11 and this hot toddie has done its job.  I promise I’ll try and come back with something better next time.  Don’t leave me just yet, it’s only a phase, I promise!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/256548951</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/256548951</guid><pubDate>Tue, 24 Nov 2009 23:18:00 -0600</pubDate></item><item><title>I'm workin' on it!</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I know, I know.  I neglect this blog.  It’s terrible.  My once constant internetty companion… tossed by the wayside like so many disposable diapers.  Sigh.  I do solemnly henceforth promise to TRY and be better at this.  Heck, if only to avoid the reprimands I’ll see what I can do!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is to be but a short entry because, um, it’s a million o’clock.  I shouldn’t be up this late because 6:30 a.m. really does come early, but I can’t help myself.  It’s the only time I have alone!  You try not having any alone time to yourself ever and see what happens.  I wager you too will sacrifice sleep in honor of being able to stare at the wall undistracted!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;You want an update, don’t you?  I know you, Internet.  And I know you don’t wanna hear about me and my lack of time alone.  You wanna hear the ridiculous things that my cute baby is doing, don’t you?  Well, today I was glad to have Colby as a witness, for Colette uttered yet another accidental word.  You see, she’s not old enough to form actual words with her lil mouth, so she just babbles a whole bunch and the out comes 99.999999% nonsense and then that very very very rare accidental combination of syllables that sounds like a word.  Like the time a few weeks ago when she was all, “na na mo ma mah moo haaa MONEY”.  Yeah.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So today she was doing something similar and what should she spit out but “YEEHA!”.  Yes, really.  Then, she totally undid half of her diaper and took her socks off.  WHAT!  This all happened so fast that I could scarcely even spend 5 seconds laughing about it before she began eating a package of wipes.  (Whence did those even &lt;i&gt;come&lt;/i&gt; from, I make my own!!!)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Today was an extra special day of cuteness and also a day of excessive frustration.  You see, normally lil C likes to nap about twice a day, for at least an hour or two at a stretch.  Sometimes she’ll sleep up to 2 and a half hours, during which time I never know what to do with myself.  (Better fart around on the internet and not try to do anything, you know, useful, in case she wakes up!)  But not today, my friend.  Not today.  Today was reserved for that special 18th level of hell where the child only naps for 25 minutes at a time, and I spend all day trying to put her down… tip-toeing away only to close the door on a bright-eyed non-napping babe.  No, really, I thought I might lose my mind today.  I rubbed my temples at some point and silently repeated to myself, “this too shall pass”!  And it did!  The extra special cuteness came when Colette’s friend Pavla came for a visit.  I didn’t have time to grab the camera, but I’ll do it next time.  Oh jeez.  Two babies.  Holdin’ hands.  Makin’ googly eyes at one another.  You know what?  That makes it ALLLL better!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So now I really do have to go to sleep.  Soon I’ll tell you all about how Colette has two teeth (she’s had ‘em for a while, maybe I already told ya), and how she’s able to sit by herself now and likes oatmeal and bananas and our cat a whole lot, and likes to go, “ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba baaaaa” and, uh, generally be ridiculously cute.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Oh, and I dressed her as a French villain for a play the other day complete with curly-q moustache.  Yep.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;More soon, I promise.&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;ZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZZzzZzZZZZzzzzZzzz&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/249397132</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/249397132</guid><pubDate>Thu, 19 Nov 2009 01:09:10 -0600</pubDate></item><item><title>Strange Creatures...</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Ever play that game where you read a really bizarre description of some creature and you have to guess what it is?  Here, let’s play.  If you were this beast, you would:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Look as though you’re wearing rubberbands around your wrists at all times.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Often wake up in places that you had not fallen asleep in… often times with freshly clipped finger and toenails.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Be incontinent.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Have an effect on people that makes them completely lose their minds and act like imbeciles in an effort to amuse you.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Kinda always look like a can of biscuits right after it pops open- especially in the, uh, thigh region.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Not be at all put off by vomiting all over yourself (and your loved ones).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Live in a world of non-stop affection and adulation.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Have a severe OCD-like need to put everything that came into your vicinity into your mouth.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- Not need teeth.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Give up?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I know you can guess this one!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2581/4023984949_898917d7d3_b.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Don’t you think that just sounds like they must have such a strange existance?  I mean, really.  It’s gotta be SO. WEIRD. bein’ a baby…&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/216757511</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/216757511</guid><pubDate>Sun, 18 Oct 2009 20:59:00 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Newest in New</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Oooh.  I shouldn’t be up this late.  But I am!  I’ve got a glass of wine in front of me and a melatonin down the hatch, so let’s share these last late moments of the evening together, oh Internet, shall we?  (Don’t worry, melatonin isn’t a drug- it’s a nutritional supplement that doesn’t affect little miss Colette and the breastfeeding).  There’s also a giant moth doing retarded gymnastics in here to keep me company.  Occasionally, it lands near me and causes the jumping out of the skin, but I know better: the cock-a-roaches are gone for this season!  Can we all dance a jig now please?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lately I’ve been itching to &lt;i&gt;do&lt;/i&gt; things.  &lt;i&gt;Make&lt;/i&gt; things.  &lt;i&gt;Write&lt;/i&gt; things.  &lt;i&gt;Create&lt;/i&gt; things.  &lt;i&gt;Clean&lt;/i&gt; things.  I’ve got so many good ideas, I’m positively overflowing!  I hauled out all that costume jewelry that I inherited from my late grandmother.  I can’t bear to part with it, but I really can’t wear clip-on earrings, of which she had so very many fabulous pairs.  But you know what I can do with them?  Repurpose them into rings!  I went online and found some nice cheapish ring bases and I’ve been experimenting with different types of metal glue.  Looks like J-B Weld is the next—&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;OK, I’m loathe to kill a moth just to have it dead, but this guy is really cramping my style.  The thing is positively hyperactive!  It just landed in my hair 3 times during the previous (and unfinished I’d like to add) paragraph!  Cool it Moth, or I’m comin’ after you!  And don’t even THINK about getting anywhere near my wine!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;— Ahem.  Where were we?  Yes, so I’ll be trying J-B Weld as the next type of glue but I have yet to haul my butt (and Colette’s) to the danged hardware store.  I have one or two errands in me per day.  That’s it, people.  I’m almost afraid to leave the house for fear that she’s going to fall asleep somewhere along the way and I’ll get nothing done around the house!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This brings me to my current woe of never ever ever being able to do anything for more than an hour at a time.  If my house were a person, it would continually walk around with one shaven leg, one sock on, half its face washed… why, just today I swept, uh, the front half of the house!  Colette’s whole nap schedule is still being instituted, and it’s left me pining for just a few hours &lt;i&gt;in a row&lt;/i&gt; to myself.  Oh, how the luxuries change when chirrens enter the picture!  In talking to Colby about all this, he offered me a wonderful deal.  He proposed giving me structured time.  Wednesday nights after work, he has agreed to make dinner and get the girl ready for bed.  In turn, I get to use that time (aside from feedings) to write, make, create, whatever!  Normally, the way it works is this: during the work week, I take care of the baby during his working and sleeping hours.  In between (say, between about 5:30 and 9:00pm), and on weekends, we split the duties.  All this, is only insomuch as splitting the duties is possible since, you know, the breastfeeding really does tip the scales in my opinion.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Tonight I used my time to make some homemade liquid hand soap and to create the outline for a parenting book I have in mind.  Yes, yes, I mentioned it in the last blog.  And now that I’ve told you, I have to do it!  I did it on purpose to myself!  Unfortunately, I had already forgotten what Wednesdays were for, and didn’t get home tonight from grocery shopping until 6:15 this evening.  That’s a whole 45 minutes I missed out on!  No matter, I still feel awesome for having used that time to get some things done that I really wanted to.  The point is, I can always pay a bill here or there during the day.  I can get smallish tasks done, but nothing monumental or really satisfying is being implemented unless I’ve got a clear schedule.  Bless that Colby for being so wonderful and understanding!  This is truly a gift.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I’ve also been cleaning things out and trying to get rid of stuff.  You know… all that clutter in your house that has hardly any use?  Mmm.  I’m working on getting rid of it, and so I resolve to do away with one trash bag of crap per week this season.  That is, all the way until Spring if I can.  I seriously think there’s that much to toss.  I give a lot to the Salvation Army.  In fact, I’m not making any purchases other than necessities until I’ve got ten bags out of the house.  Ten.  I’ve got three and a half in my car destined for you-know-where.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The last project I’ll share with you is a bunch of hair doodads.  I’ve been making barettes for ladies and I’m awaiting some supplies I ordered online to make things for babies, too!  Hooray!  I know, it’s stuff that I didn’t need that I bought before ten bags were gone, but to be fair, I ordered them before I decided that.  I need projects, people!  And speaking of, the ultimate in projects is set to wake up real early, so I best be gettin’ my tired butt to bed so I can take care of her tomorrow!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Good night, Internet!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/213518674</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/213518674</guid><pubDate>Thu, 15 Oct 2009 00:19:12 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>The 5 month update</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Oh, hello!  It’s 10:30 on a Saturday morning, and I feel more rested than I have in the last two months.  Why’s that, you ask?  Well, I can attribute this to the power of the Mimi.  You see, Colette has a regular weekend date with her grandparents that gives Colby and I a chance to act and feel like real, regular people!  Last night we went on a double date with our friends Addam and Stefanie.  You won’t believe it, but we went to dinner and a show!  OK, you got me.  Colby and I left not so long after the show started, but that’s only because he fell asleep standing up no less than three times.  When he told me he was going to go and sleep in the car, I said, “No, you’re not!  Let’s go home, you silly goose!”&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;This morning we slept in until nine- &lt;i&gt;nine!!!&lt;/i&gt; Colby’s already gone to do hunting season preparations for the day; he and his friend are installing homemade deer-feeders somewhere in the Texas Hill Country.  I’m about to go pick up that girl, so I am stealing a precious few moments… not to pick up my poor, forsaken house that needs it so very badly.  No, not to wash those scattered and dejected dishes lying about or even put that slighted laundry from yesterday into the dryer.  Oh, no.  Nuh-uh.  I’m using this teensy bit of spare ALONE time to write to you, dear Internet!  Isn’t it romantic?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Someone asked me recently what my social life is like now that I have a baby.  I answered that really, only the most essential things get done.  Additionally, only the most awesome events are attended.  I’m exhausted, but it’s a good fatigue- if that even makes any sense.  You know how you work really hard on a project; say for work or school or whatever, and you stay up for three nights in a row making sure it’s perfect?  And you know that feeling when it’s done and you feel SO. GOOD. So proud, so satisfied?  It’s the beautiful feeling of accomplishment and now, come hell or high water, you’re going to have a glass of wine or three, a long bath, and a giant brownie a la mode and sleep in?  Yeah… that’s the feeling of raising a baby except you don’t have time for the wine, brownie, bath, or sleeping or brushing your hair or putting laundry in the dryer or making the bed or making dinner or taking out the trash or breathing.  So… there you have it.  It’s a positive sort of enervation.  I know, weird, right?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;This’ll sound crazy, but whenever anyone comes over and holds Colette for a few minutes, a switch is flipped and I turn into this like Betty Crocker robot that NEEDS to clean things up.  Like, I can’t sit still.  The baby is actually not in my arms, and my arms can’t stand to just sit idly by.  Now, say it with me in your best monotone robot voice: “Must. Fold. Laundry.  Must. Put. Dishes. Away.  Must. Sweep. One. Million. Pounds. Of. Pet. Hair. Off. The. Floor.”  And on that note, will someone please explain to me why I have so many flappin’ pets?  Because this is ridiculous, people.  Those animals are so emotionally neglected these days that whenever any company comes over and actually pets one of them, you can totally see that look in their eyes.  You know the look- I know you know other people with pets and new babies.  It’s the look that says, “Oh my gawd, you can SEE me?  I thought I had turned invisible!!!”  It’s sad, y’all.  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Although being a new parent is akin to learning how to surf giant tsunami waves every day anew, it’s becoming somewhat routine.  Of course, I say that and really, the honest truth is that whenever I think I have something down (naptimes, feedings, scheduling)… the rug is pulled out from under me, and everything changes.  Oh, you thought that baby was sleeping every night from x time at night until x time in the morning with x amount of feedings at an interval of x hours in between?  JUST KIDDING!  Right now there seems to be more and more routine even if in constant flux, but enough predictability that Colby and I are talking about me doing things (gasp) other than baby rearing.  Things like, setting aside scheduled time to write.  Oh, did you hear that?  Yes, that was the high-pitched sound of me squealing with Pure.  Utter.  Delight.  Usually only dogs can hear it.  I’m pleased to announce that I will be working on a short book of sorts!  Look, don’t pee your pants.  It’s going to be about parenting and all that junk, and it’s probably not going to be finished until Colette makes me a great-grandmother, but it’s in the pipes.  Hooray!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;On another note entirely, if you recall anything about the episode where I was convinced Colette had plagiocephaly (and she did), I am delighted to inform you that her noggin is lookin’ great!  We’ve been putting her on her side or belly to sleep now that she’s able to roll over, and keeping her propped up instead of leaning back onto things.  In turn, a few months have gone by and that little head of hers is looking decidedly less Quasimodo.  Hooray!  I kept tellin’ her she needed something to keep her humble (jeeeeez she is cute)!  The doc even mentioned what a beautifully shaped head she has.  (Funny she should say that, eh?)  Last week at the doc’s, I thought I’d go ahead and get a shot in solidarity with Colette.  She got the HIB, and I got a Tetanus shot- which she’d had the last visit.  Well, I’ve never had one in my adult life, so I figured it was about time for a booster and boy, after looking at pictures of lockjaw on the internet…  WOW.  Don’t do that, by the way, unless you &lt;i&gt;like&lt;/i&gt; having nightmares.  Anyways, I am here to report that Tetanus shots are not awesome, but probably about 4,000 times better than lockjaw.  I see now why that poor baby cried for the rest of the day after she’d had hers!  I felt like someone had punched my arm about 80 times!  Tenderized meat, I tell ya!  Anyways, we’re all happy and healthy over here.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;On that note, I should probably get myself an iced coffee to go and get on the road to pick that little angel-pants up.  Before I go, I just have to tell you about her newest trick.  I’ll try to catch it on video and post it, but let me tell you what.  The child has mastered something new!  I saw her puckering her little lips and frowning the other day.  It’s like she’s in constant discovery that a body part (in this case her mouth) can do something previously unknown.  Last week she figured out that she could draw up her teensy mouth into a pursed lil rosebud.  I held her so she was standing on my lap while Suzanne was over.  We were so tickled and couldn’t figure out what that kid was up to.  All the rest of that day Colette played with this newfound ability.  You could just see the gears turning in her little head.  She had learned a new thing and the rest of the afternoon was spent perfecting… the fart sound!  The entire front of her outfit was wet from spitting all over herself- hilarious!  So now, if you come over and see Colette, you might notice that in addition to the rest of her little sound machine, she’s added raspberries.  And I hope you know Colby and I well enough to know that this fits in very well indeed over here at NiColby Castle.  Everybody now, on the count of three!  1… 2… Ppppptththpphttthhhpp!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/209346104</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/209346104</guid><pubDate>Sat, 10 Oct 2009 11:31:24 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>SQUEEEEE!!!!!</title><description>&lt;img src="http://5.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kr962pGQuU1qzn303o1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;SQUEEEEE!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/208463713</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/208463713</guid><pubDate>Fri, 09 Oct 2009 10:08:48 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Colette’s 1st meal, take 1!</title><description>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a264a5e2fd&amp;photo_id=3994333868" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=a264a5e2fd&amp;photo_id=3994333868" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Colette’s 1st meal, take 1!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/207933696</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/207933696</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 18:47:49 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Colette’s 1st meal, take 2!</title><description>&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="300" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=c632ecee94&amp;photo_id=3993599559" /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=71377" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;photo_secret=c632ecee94&amp;photo_id=3993599559" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Colette’s 1st meal, take 2!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/207933230</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/207933230</guid><pubDate>Thu, 08 Oct 2009 18:47:14 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Update, etc.</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Oh my.  I’ve been neglecting Le Blog somethin’ fierce.  Sorry, y’all! You’ll have to forgive me; I’ve been in the land of baby dental hell.  That’s right.  &lt;b&gt;HONK, HONK!!!  ’Scuse me, ‘scuse me… comin’ through here, BABY TEEEEEETH!  HOOOONK!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;!&lt;/b&gt; Ahem.  Now that the TWO &lt;i&gt;count them&lt;/i&gt; teeth- because one at a time would have just been for sissies-have made their way into this world, the poor child has already begun to experience the hardships of tooth-dom.  She freakin’ bit her tongue &lt;i&gt;already&lt;/i&gt;.  That’s adding injury to… injury!  Trust me when I say that the last thing you ever want to see is wanton blood hangin’ out around your baby’s facial area.  We were going into the grocery store today when I noticed the red in her saliva.  I’ve learned to quickly assess potential emergencies and hide the all-out full-body adrenaline-tizzies.  Child was blinking happily as though nothing had even happened and I realized that she had the bittiest bite taken out of her ittiest little tongue-tip.  Are you kidding me?  You bit your tongue and it was the most adorable thing ever.  Yes.  Apparently, I am indeed a mom since nothing she does isn’t cute.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lately I’ve been marveling at the incredible new dexterity that her hands have been developing.  Now, when I say that, realize that dexterity is all relative.  We’ve gone from hands moving just because they could when she was first born.  I’m talking zero purpose in hand movement, just… teensy lil flimsy-fingernailed fingers undulating about.  After that, her hands promptly clenched shut for a few months.  I would have to pry apart her fingers at the knuckle to dig out little chewy milk-barf hair-leaches.  Mmmhmm.  I took ya there.  When her hands finally began opening up, it happened gradually.  A four-fingered grasp on the neck of my t-shirt while she was eating.  A onesie caught in the vice grip of infant digits during a diaper change.  I began hauling out those flat toys- so &lt;i&gt;that’s&lt;/i&gt; what they were for!  Oh, texture!  Wonderful, exciting, riveting texture!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Somewhere along the way, the arms began to extend, flailing in any direction with open hands that were ready to clench down onto whatever happened to land in their path.  Colette’s hands as Godzilla, and my hair, earrings, dinner napkin, Colby’s beard, all reduced to Tokyo rubble in the wake.  You know the next step.  Do I even have to mention it?  Well, I will anyways.  Shoveitallinyourmouth.  Rightnow!  Nothing escapes, I tell you, nothing.  Was there a reason I’ve been washing and disinfecting everything that comes into contact with her?  Because, uh, it’s all obsolete now.  I’ll be at the grocery store with her in the front-facing Baby Bjorn carrier.  I’ll turn away from the basket only to realize I’m attached… by way of baby hand.  I’m not kidding, anything in the way will get grabbed and then the nasty baby hands go straight into the drooling baby mouth.  Tell me, can you even imagine &lt;i&gt;licking&lt;/i&gt; a grocery cart?  Vile!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But all of this had a purpose, I was going to tell you about her newfound dexterity.  Yesterday I actually saw her not just accidentally slap her own face, or messily attempt to rub a sleepy eye, but actually use both hands to rub both eyes.  Back and forth, back and forth, went the moist little paws over those squinty, reddish eyes.  This is purposeful, calculated hand movement, and it’s monumental.  Not only that, but she’s grabbing things on purpose as well.  It used to just be closing an errant hand over whatever was in the way, but that is a distant memory in the presence of such new tasks as seeing something (cell phones in particular these days), desiring the object, and actively going after it.  &lt;i&gt;Reaching&lt;/i&gt; for it.  Yep, sounds like something we do every day without a second thought, and that’s true.  But this little learning process has me completely captivated.  We take it for granted that we can just see a glass of water, pick it up and put it to our thirsty mouths for the drinking.  To watch someone learning how to do this seemingly simple activity gives me pause for thought.  It’s a complex skill being enacted.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At night or naptime I like to watch what Colette does with her hands.  She grabs at the sheets, her bib, my shirt, she pulls the fabric towards her mouth and away from her face to look at it.  She intertwines the fingers of her hands together ever so daintily.  I am sure she is plotting world domination in those moments.  I marvel at how soft and beautiful her hands are.  Puffy palms and dimpled knuckles, attenuated digits that taper into the softest of fingertips… Oh jeez, I need to cut those nails before she looks like she tried to make out with the neighborhood alley cat again.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Aside from the teeth that have finally just begun to poke out of the gum-line, and all the hand-to-mouth activity, she’s just growing like a little weed!  Her next well-baby check up is early next month, so I’ll let you all know what percentile she’s at for height, etc.  Last time it was the 95th- a long, tall drink of milk she is!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I wish I had a whole bunch of other exciting news to relate, but this is Babyland I’m reporting from.  Things are so domestic over here that I’m even planning meals these days!  Colby and I are about to go to our first theater movie in at least 6 months and that is the most excitement we’ve gotten around to in a while.  Come on by for a visit if you’re so inclined, we’re open for business and love company.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3472/3938353071_496eeaccd7.jpg" width="500" height="371"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/192867726</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/192867726</guid><pubDate>Sun, 20 Sep 2009 17:37:00 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>I hear the train a-comin'...</title><description>&lt;p&gt;We took the train last weekend to Dallas to visit our friends Lorena and Adam.  Although the trip is 6 hours one way instead of 3 and a half or 4 hours by car, it was well worth it.  We probably wouldn’t have made it any sooner in any case with the baby.  There’s no taking her out of the carseat to feed or get changed whilst flying down I-35.  Nope.  And so it was that the train afforded us the opportunity to travel comfortably with Colette, see some new things, and feel very relaxed indeed even after our somewhat long journey.  They say getting there is half the fun, right?  Absolutely.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The Austin Amtrak station was a bit aesthetically deflating, but we didn’t let it get our spirits down.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" width="500" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2653/3877277364_f8189a2f4f.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The pigeons seemed to like it…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2439/3893343082_317c949115.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Oh, Colette!  The train is coming!  Are you excited?  No?  Oh…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" width="500" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3419/3877280408_74e042bccd.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Look, though!  It’s a big giant choo-choo!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2497/3877291916_253e25de41.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well guess what the baby thought about the train ride?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/3877292944_d611b99730.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;But look, baby C!  TRAIN STUFF!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2469/3877294070_d7aaa162d6.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Seriously?  You woke me up for &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt;?  (No, not really).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" width="500" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2545/3893658253_8f5e7764f2.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We woke you up for THIS:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" width="500" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2551/3894581504_8bd7c568be.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;…ZZZZZZZZZZ!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3524/3893801661_cfb93185fb.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Well, we thought it was all pretty interesting even if Colette was less than impressed.  This would have been a better picture if smoker dude hadn’t invaded my shot…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/3893805925_9665a92afe.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And suddenly, we were in Dallas!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="375" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/3876507083_af5c9af27c.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The train station there had some neat features, so I snapped a few pics:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="375" width="500" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3424/3877321068_8b92a21aa9.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="370" width="500" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3512/3876493759_75f93647e7.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;At Lorena’s house, we had a good time hanging out by the pool!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img height="500" width="386" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2508/3877307802_ab2e060879.jpg"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Lorena’s hibiscus plants were SO beautiful!  How big do you think they were?  Would you believe me if I said they were over 10 feet tall?  It’s true!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2660/3896410415_4fd2d7ce3d.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;How about a little perspective on those giagantor blooms?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2550/3877778691_8f332fc3fe.jpg" width="500" height="375"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Yep.  The flowers really were that big!  EEEeeeeEEee!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2676/3878568284_d4e9107cec.jpg" width="500" height="375"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;The flowers were great, but she didn’t have &lt;i&gt;quite&lt;/i&gt; the same affection for the pool.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2591/3877308680_9141f581f2.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After our swim, it was finally time to go get ready for sushi dinner!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2545/3898767672_e1aba2bee0.jpg" width="358" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Nom nom nom…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2475/3897194564_5cc4fb75f2.jpg" width="500" height="333"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Rosco the dog wanted to give Colette an after-dinner kiss…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2499/3877306126_be204d85c5.jpg" width="500" height="375"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;No, seriously.  Look closely.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2510/3898775145_c28f5bc7ab.jpg" width="500" height="417"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I decided it was time to bathe her.  I mean, really.  A girl can’t go to bed with slobber all over her.  Oh wait.  She’s &lt;b&gt;always&lt;/b&gt; covered in drool!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Anyways, bathtime!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2445/3877317934_92ea33f808.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And you know what’s cuter than cute?  This:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2666/3877316324_a924ef06c1.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;After two whole nights of baby-torture, we finally headed home.  We said goodbye to Auntie Lorena…&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2472/3898787524_ab4b72867a.jpg" width="500" height="408"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And I think baby C liked this leg of the trip a lot better.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2432/3876550253_ccf2cf3a81.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Come on.  If someone held me up like that I would just fold over in half.  I can’t believe how strong she is!  Lookit those little baby legs all straight out behind her!  So cute!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We also stopped in Fort Worth for a minute on the way home.  Their train station was also kinda cute!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2582/3876545037_a61b48c31f.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Strange things can be seen from the train windows, I tell you.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3526/3897999629_8968ca9726.jpg" width="500" height="386"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Also, ridiculously, ridiculously, ridiculously large sporting arenas:&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2452/3877284066_8de140dfc8.jpg" width="500" height="375"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Someone get me off this crazy thing!  At last, we made it back into Austin.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2428/3877343142_761a04a1ea.jpg" width="375" height="500"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We did not, however, make it to the car without some serious tears.  You see this here train engine?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2661/3876541153_bb25ea381e.jpg" width="500" height="375"/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Yeah, notice its proximity to our car.  Just as I was snapping this picture, the horn went off.  TWICE.  Child was not pleased.  No, not pleased at all.  I’ve actually not even heard that cry before.  It was pretty heart-wrenching!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And so, although our story had a bit of an unhappy ending, it really was a fantastic time.  I so totally recommend the train.  You can take a nap, eat a snack, read a book… or all of the above!  We’re thinking that maybe we’ll take another longer trip soon.  New Orleans?  Chicago?  Choo choooooooo!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/182590160</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/182590160</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Sep 2009 00:14:38 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Photo</title><description>&lt;img src="http://17.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kpmrdi1Xqn1qzn303o1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/182462376</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/182462376</guid><pubDate>Mon, 07 Sep 2009 21:10:30 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Hey guys, guess what I did?  I graduated from swaddling to...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://20.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kp92yesKR11qzn303o1_500.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey guys, guess what I did?  I graduated from swaddling to pajamas!  Woo hoo!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;And I also kept my mama up from 1am - 3am trying to get used to all this.  Tee hee!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/176358636</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/176358636</guid><pubDate>Mon, 31 Aug 2009 11:54:14 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>If you’re seeing this on Facebook, it’s imported...</title><description>&lt;embed src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/1137883380" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=17075685001&amp;playerId=1137883380&amp;viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&amp;servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&amp;cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&amp;domain=embed&amp;autoStart=false&amp;" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="400" height="339" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swliveconnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you’re seeing this on Facebook, it’s imported from my regular site, Le blog.  Click &lt;a title="Le blob" href="http://nicoolio.tumblr.com" target="_blank"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; to see all the content.  There’s a video!&lt;/p&gt;

&lt;p&gt;Uhm… extreme sheep-herding anyone?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Seriously, who has time for this sort of thing?  Oh right, shepherds!!!!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;WHAT??!!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/173582157</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/173582157</guid><pubDate>Thu, 27 Aug 2009 23:59:00 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Well, juice “drinks” (aka high fructose corn syrup)...</title><description>&lt;object width="400" height="336"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0zmDwMNaTzA&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0zmDwMNaTzA&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="336" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, juice “drinks” (aka high fructose corn syrup) and sodas aren’t FOOD.  If you think drinking fruit juice “cocktail” or downing a juice “drink” is a healthy alternative to drinking soda, I suggest you compare some ingredients…  Added sugar or HFCS is, um, not exactly a wholesome family value in my opinion!  Simple pleasures?  Really??&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/171041766</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/171041766</guid><pubDate>Mon, 24 Aug 2009 23:40:45 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>The Oil Teat, Briefly...</title><description>&lt;p&gt;My morning walks have twice found me passing a truck whose bumper sticker  I find myself thinking about it, wanting slip a little note onto.  Nothing terrible, just… a response.  I guess I think of bumper stickers as a one-way conversation, but if you’ve got a chance to have dialogue, well, they started it, right?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So here’s what the bumper sticker says: “Thanks to the democrats this truck is powered by foreign oil”.  (And the part that says “foreign oil” is written in drippy script).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Really I just want to leave a little post-it on the driver’s side window that says something like, “I think you’re missing the greater point”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It’s just my opinion, I suppose, but I don’t think that this liberal side of the fence has more to do with it than the other.  I mean, come on.  You really think that the Republicans aren’t collusive in that business?  Really?  And back to my original point of missing the greater point: Last I heard, big business and politicians (yes, red and blue) were &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; in bed together making sure that all our vehicles were run on OIL period.  Who cares where it comes from, we shouldn’t be using it if you ask me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;OK, democrats have lobbied not to have domestic oil drilled, that’s true.  But isn’t it actually in a greater effort to preserve wildlife and try to get our butts off the oil teat?  I concede that I actually think that’s probably just the exemplar fustian, but you know what I mean.  Heck, the dems are probably just as guilty for keeping us in this dumb cycle using dwindling pollutant resources, but at least this liberal side of the fence has &lt;i&gt;some&lt;/i&gt; noble forces working towards such idyllic rhetoric (cough, Kucinich, cough).  All I hear from the conservative side of the fence is “drill baby, drill”!  Since when is that sort of verbosity even a distant kin to conservative idealism?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Anyways, as a bumper sticker I’d rather see, “Thanks to the powers that be who don’t have my best interests in mind, I have to drive this truck”.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sigh.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It’s true, really.  You don’t drive around these parts, you’re pretty much S.O.L.  And jeez, I’ve all but given up on the damned train that we’re supposed to have had up and running last year.  Oh, guess what?  It’s late and I’m rambling again!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Time for the sleepings…&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/167082759</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/167082759</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2009 23:51:39 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Oh, child.  You thought I wouldn’t notice your sleep...</title><description>&lt;img src="http://13.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kolz654D2S1qzn303o1_400.jpg"/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh, child.  You thought I wouldn’t notice your sleep drool?  Indeed, I’m posting this all over the internet.  The Bjorn Identity.  That’s right.  I said it!  Though, to be fair, I can’t take credit.  It came from my friend Bob this weekend.  Nice one, mister.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Colette.  She is 15 weeks old.  How did that already happen??&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;We’re starting to get up early-ish and go walking, though I’m not sure we’ll make it tomorrow what with the late-night bug that I’ve been bitten by yet again.  Anyways, this here photo is the aftermath.  The kid is just plain pooped after being walked around for so long.  I listen to her sucking this thing the whole way and daydream of inventing velcro attachments to sell to Baby Bjorn for millions of dollars.  It’d be like a patch, say, that you could just toss in the wash after a day and apply a fresh one after it gets all soggy with milk-slobber.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;For real, I bought this thing used and it came all pre-drooled-upon, complete with a few crusty barf-curds embedded in the fabric.  I washed it before putting her in, people.  I’m just saying, it would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to wash the whole dang pouch all the time…&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/166286221</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/166286221</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Aug 2009 00:27:41 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Finally, a solution!!!  Thanks, India!</title><description>&lt;object width="400" height="231"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.hulu.com/aol/http%3A%2F%2Fvideo%2Eaol%2Ecom/embed/9lPvSUcXqh7xkc6NPoRsbw" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.hulu.com/aol/http%3A%2F%2Fvideo%2Eaol%2Ecom/embed/9lPvSUcXqh7xkc6NPoRsbw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="231"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally, a solution!!!  Thanks, India!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/166112247</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/166112247</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Aug 2009 20:09:00 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Oh wow…</title><description>&lt;object width="400" height="336"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4FpD8wF1s6E&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4FpD8wF1s6E&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="336" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh wow…&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/164982042</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/164982042</guid><pubDate>Mon, 17 Aug 2009 11:43:09 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Free range frontiers</title><description>&lt;p&gt;OK, I’ve been slacking.  The &lt;a href="http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/32564495/happy-earth-day-sort-of" target="_blank"&gt;first post&lt;/a&gt; I ever put up here at Le Blog was about the beef industry.  In the last year, I’ve traveled to the furthest apogee of my habitual eating patterns that I defined for myself almost three years ago, &lt;i&gt;especially&lt;/i&gt; regarding meat.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I had my reasons for needing a diet with more meat- hello, pregnancy- but that’s behind me.  I’m getting back on the wagon.  And ya know what?  It’s hard work being an environmentalist.  What do eating meat and caring for my surroundings have to do with one another?  Quite a lot as it turns out, so I’m vowing now to return to a stricter program as I originally set out to follow just a few short years ago.  I’ll do my best to explain.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I was reading an &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bill-maher/new-rule-a-hole-in-one-sh_b_259281.html" target="_blank"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt; earlier this evening by &lt;a href="http://www.billmaher.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Bill Maher&lt;/a&gt; posted on the ole &lt;a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/" target="_blank"&gt;HuffPo&lt;/a&gt;.  OK, frankly, the guy is one of the funniest and most intelligent comedians I can think of, and almost all of his rhetoric reflects what I also hold to be true.  The only thing I don’t really get is his anger.  I mean, you can’t help but notice that the guy is pissed off.  I guess as my dad says, “you have to break some eggs if you want to make an omelet”.  And he’s right.  Bill Maher can be totally inflammatory, and sometimes for a cheap laugh at the expense of whatever sector he’s currently targeting.  I might not say the things that he does in the manner that he does, but I do often think them, albeit on a less misanthropic level.  In short, I dig the crap out of his loquacity even though it’s often charged with some serious vitriol.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Anyways, here’s what ole Bill Maher mentioned in his article. “(…) when it comes to bad for the environment, nothing — literally — compares with eating meat. The business of raising animals for food causes about 40 percent more global warming than all cars, trucks, and planes combined. If you care about the planet, it’s actually better to eat a salad in a Hummer than a cheeseburger in a Prius (…)”  FANTASTIC.  I couldn’t agree more.  And I’ll just have to inject here that I get a surge of good old teenage angst against the system whenever I see an oversized vehicle on the road, especially with just one person inside, with Hummers really being about the most egregious atrocity on four wheels.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;There are some days when I seriously feel like taking out all my collective frustrations in the form of a simple note left on every Hummer in every parking lot that I can find.  I think the note would say something like, “Really?  Are you that self-centered that it’s seriously OK to drive this thing?”  But then again, you have to wonder if the drivers of said Hummers are fully aware of their impact.  The last thing I’m going to say about Hummers is this: I find myself beset by their presence on the road precisely because they seem to be such a giant middle finger to the environment.  And I think, &lt;i&gt;come &lt;b&gt;on&lt;/b&gt; guys; I &lt;b&gt;know&lt;/b&gt; you know better!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Breathe… BREATHE!&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I guess I tend to think that most people act poorly because of a lack of access to information, and you can’t blame anyone for that.  In any case, I’m flying way out of orbit here on a tangent, when really my point is to talk about meat consumption and its effects on the environment in this blog.  If any of the information I’m presenting is new to anyone reading this blog, then my job is done.  I truly believe that dissemination of information is the only way towards progressive change.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I used to sit at my desk job before I had Colette and listen to NPR on my computer all day long through our local public radio station, KUT.  Every day, I would find something else to listen to during the lunch hour or risk being irked by the absurd program called World Have Your Say.  I’m here to tell you, the only aim of that show seems to be that of pitting people against each other over a daily given divisive subject.  Oh, please.  Like &lt;i&gt;that’s&lt;/i&gt; constructive, y’all.  Seriously.  Quit acting like you’re six years old, and figure out how to have civil discourse with one another.  One day I heard the most asinine, bat-shit-crazy, ludicrous, senseless, topic being argued that I couldn’t help myself from crafting an email to the show.  The question at hand was whether people thought that animal rights should be eschewed in order to pump out more meat so that starving human populations around the world could be fed.  I could scarcely believe what I was hearing.  You can imagine all the animal rights activists that were screaming murder and their counter debaters pontificating about human rights.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Whoa, Pilgrim.  WHOA.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Let’s just back up a moment here and look at some simple math- bear with me, I’m a creative so this isn’t exactly my strong suit, but even I understand these numbers.  Um, how many people do you think can be fed by one cow?  Let’s just say it’s 20 for argument’s sake, because I think it’s probably more, but hypothetically 20, OK?  OK.  I’m just shaking my head remembering that preposterous radio show.  So now, back to the arithmetic.  Ready?  How many pounds of grains and gallons of water do you suppose it took to raise that cow all the way to a size that could feed those 20 people?  I’m going to put my money on at least enough to feed all those 20 mouths plus their kids and friends and friends’ kids.  I haven’t even touched amount of energy and money expended on housing those cattle, treating them for whatever ailments they have during their lives, transporting them to slaughter, actually slaughtering and processing them, and finally shipping their packaged parts all over kingdom come.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Even if you don’t give a crap that farmed animals are treated like slime, the argument for &lt;i&gt;simple&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;math&lt;/i&gt; in terms of the staggering amounts of resources needed to produce this commodity (and not to mention how many starving people could be fed) is too compelling really to ignore in my opinion.  Personally, I really love animals and I don’t think they should be tortured, but I also don’t have a moral issue against eating them.  This may sound contradictory, so let me expound.  Frankly, I think if animals weren’t meant to be eaten by humans, then it follows that they also wouldn’t taste good, would have no nutritional value, and they’d be a lot smarter or faster or both.  I’m just sayin’.  (And yes, I’m aware that I’ve talked about some of this here before at Le Blog).  What I’m getting at is this: I don’t agree with the &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;rate&lt;/i&gt; at which we are consuming meat (and by we, I’m referring to we as a collective Occidental society).&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In testament to just how horrendous the effects of farming animals for food are on the environment, consider the extent of excrement they expel.  Hi, we’re talking about poop, yes, and also farts.  I’m too sleepy to go research statistics for you, dear reader, so just trust me when I say that it’s absolutely atrocious.  You know, methane, toxic runoff flowing into the water supply.  GRODYTOWN.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;It’s late, so I’m going to wrap up this rant.  I began by saying that I’ve been slacking, and it’s true.  I really think that we don’t need to eat this much meat, and that we have a responsibility as consumers to tell the corporations who provide our food to us (whether in a restaurant or a grocery store) what we want from them.  Eventually, they have to listen if enough people are demanding it.  Tell ‘em.  Tell ‘em ya don’t want tumor-ridden chicken that’s been fed leftover tumor-ridden parts from other dead animals.  Tell ‘em with your dollars.  Tell ‘em you don’t want to eat a chicken that’s lived its miserable life without a beak limping around on mangled excuses for feet.  Sorry to sound like some nut cake hippy, but tell me that sounds appetizing.  Tell ‘em you’re not gonna accept a corn-fed cow that’s trudged around in a cesspool of its own diseased filth.  If you’re skeptical, I invite you to do a cursory google research session on feedlot life.  Seriously.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Here’s what I’m going to do.  I’m not eating any more chicken unless I know where it comes from.  I’m talking about &lt;i&gt;local&lt;/i&gt;, free-range, organic chicken- and that’s going to be &lt;i&gt;hard&lt;/i&gt; to come by.  I’m not eating any more pork unless I know where it comes from.  Maybe I’ve got to wait until Colby goes and shoots us a feral hog.  So much the more momentous and appreciated it will be when it finally does reach my palette.  I’m not eating any more bison (if you know me, you know I don’t even touch beef, so this is my substitute) until I do more research on it.  I’ve actually heard that bison won’t eat corn and don’t do well under traditional domestication and so are necessarily free range by nature.  Lastly… and this one is really going to be difficult… I vow not to eat any more farmed fish if I can avoid it.  I hope that if you’re an omnivore, (and if you’re still reading this post), that you’ll consider at least &lt;i&gt;reevaluating&lt;/i&gt; your own consumption of meat.  It’s much too late and way too hot out for all these deep thoughts.  G’night y’all!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/164045394</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/164045394</guid><pubDate>Sun, 16 Aug 2009 02:49:00 -0500</pubDate></item><item><title>Next time I have a baby… I’m totally doing this....</title><description>&lt;object width="400" height="336"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bVDXC1dOB9E&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bVDXC1dOB9E&amp;rel=0&amp;egm=0&amp;showinfo=0&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="400" height="336" allowFullScreen="true" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next time I have a baby… I’m totally doing this.  Thanks CB for finding this!&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/163908301</link><guid>http://nicoolio.tumblr.com/post/163908301</guid><pubDate>Sat, 15 Aug 2009 22:32:14 -0500</pubDate></item></channel></rss>
