Idle mind = Devil's workshop = good stuff

By kenny friedman on Thursday, July 29, 2010

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There is a saying that an idle mind is the Devil's workshop...and I'm thinking that's a good thing.

A bit over a month ago I was kind of bored and a little bit hungry. I wanted some sunflower seeds. And not just any sunflower seeds...I wanted Spitz dill flavor seeds because they freaking awesome...and better than their competitors.

Then I and idea came to me...what would be better than some seeds? The answer of course is a lot of free seeds...even though in reality it would cure the craving I had then.

So I sat down and wrote what I think was a funny open letter to Spitz asking them to sponsor my blog by giving me 50-100 packs of seeds. But Spitz is owned by Frito-Lay and they had no sense of humor...not that I was really expecting the seeds...but I was bummed by the total canned answer.

Writing the letter was fun...and I figured I could use my talent of writing funny, sarcastic, and semi-obnoxious letters for good. The good being showing my support for brands that folks may not be super familiar with.

That's how open letter number 2 became my letter to PF Flyers...which is hands down my favorite shoe company.

Again writing the letter was fun (read it because it's much better than this post) but since I got no seeds I expected no shoes.

Then the most magical thing in the world happened...I was contacted by someone who from one of PF Flyers marketing agencies...she said she could maybe get me a pair of shoes.

But wait...something even more magical happened. Elvis from PF Flyers found my post, left me a comment and offered me a pair of PF Flyers.

So that is FREAKING AWESOME. I'm rocking 2 new pairs of PF Flyers...a Ramble Lo and a Center Hi.

They didn't need to send them...but they did and I think that shows how cool of a company they are.

And they expected nothing in return. I don't need to review them (but they are sweet and if I did I'd say that besides being cool looking the insoles are so comfy that my f-ed up feet feel good in them...but I'm not reviewing them because reviews are hard work, I need to put them on a different site because of my ad network and really I got sick of doing them) link to them or any of that.

But I did make some promises in my letter and since they sent me goodies I'm keeping my promise. You'll notice in my sidebar that I'm calling them the semi-official footwear of my blog...semi-official because I don't want to freak their lawyers out. That logo link goes to their site...check them out...I did guarantee four page hits.

Also I have photos of Miloh eating the shoes.

But before I get to the pics I gotta tell you how different the photo shoots were. The first one (black shoes) was taken July 10. I put the shoes near Miloh and he instantly grabbed it then went into his mouth.

The second shoot, the white pair, was taken yesterday...and I couldn't get a shot. Miloh is so on the move it's crazy. He is kind of like one of the aliens from Alien. He moves fast, he moves silent and he's sneaky.

He's been interested in my camera for a while but now when it's out he army crawls over to it faster than anyone that's been through boot camp. So every time I put my camera to my eye he tried to grab it.


showing the logo

barely showing a logo



Oh...and don't fear that you've heard the last of the open letters...because I assure you there will be more.*

*not a guarantee...but I'm pretty sure



Gear Thursday: What Would Joe Strummer Do? bodyvest

By kenny friedman on Thursday, July 29, 2010

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Notice his Burt Reynolds pose
This is probably my favorite thing that Miloh is wearing now. It's a bodyvest form Nippaz With Attitude a great clothing company from England that some friends of mine started.

Ian and Leza used to work at indie record labels and that comes through in their designs and in the way they create their stuff. Instead of doing seasonal collections they try to get new stuff out every 6-8 weeks...and it's great stuff.

They sent me the What Would Joe Strummer Do? shirt because I'm a huge fan of The Clash (I sing Bankrobber to Miloh to get him to sleep.)

The stuff is great quality, looks cool and is different from things I've seen out there.

There is a little hint to tomorrow's post in the pic.
I wish I had seen the Love/Hate mittens because Miloh would have worn them as a newbie.

Other fav styles of mine are below.



Seriously check out Nippaz With Attitude for some great stuff...buy some.



Weekly Wednesday Wisdom

By kenny friedman on Wednesday, July 28, 2010

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If you're reading this and your name is Chip Kidd please read the whole thing because there is a designer geek story at the end...and you're in it.

Disclaimer: I'm not a fan of controversy on my blog but this post involves a subject that people are incredibly emotionally attached to so please if you comment keep your comments nice.

This wisdom comes from a recent post from Girls Girls Girls week where I called Morgan out for using a double space after a period. Metta1313 joined the conversation and backed up the use of the double space. As an English teacher she felt she was correct...and via twitter she rallied the troops of other teachers and two-space fanatics...which brings me to my wisdom for Miloh this week.

Wisdom for Miloh: Teachers aren't always right. They make you want to think they are but they aren't. For instance there was the English teacher I had in 7th grade who said no one had ever gotten out of her class and never would. Then when I pissed her off so much that she hit me on the head with my book I was able to get out of the class...proved her wrong and became a hero in middle school.

When it comes to the idea that there are supposed to 2 spaces after a period it's just plain wrong...unless you're using a typewriter...if you are then continue using 2 spaces.

The basic deal is that with the advent of proportional fonts, on those fancy computers everyone is talking about, you no longer need that double space.

We all know that Wikipedia can have bullshit on it so I decided to go to experts to find out their thoughts of the double space.

I tweeted out to House Industries (a great font house who's merch was mentioned in a Gear Thursday), Chank (awesome type dude who's fonts will rock your blog...so buy some) and the aforementioned Chip Kidd...one of my fave designers...if you've ever read a book there is an 87%* chance that he designed the cover.

Here is what they said.

House Industries: @smonkyou Easy. One space after a period. Chicago Manual of Style also agrees: http://bit.ly/a7WQl5

Chank: @smonkyou Does HTML still convert a double-space to no-space? That's why I roll all single space. Doublespacing is 4 babyboomrs. #spacingWar

@smonkyou are you talking about manual typewriter teachers? nobody should use double spaces. just not a good idea. #SpacingWar

Chip Kidd: @smonkyou One space after a period. Period.

There you have it...the people that matter (designers and type designers) all know that it's one space after a period...

When you think about it by adding that extra space after a period you are basically spitting in the face of type designers who painstakingly set the spacing of the typefaces they create.

So Miloh...when you're in school remember teachers are not always correct, they like to pretend they are but, like all people, they don't know everything.

And if any teacher tells you there should be 2 spaces after a period (even your mom) call me as soon as you can and I'll rush to rescue you.

Oh, and as far as the oxford comma goes there is no definite answer on it...except House told me they are a fan of the song. My thought is it's a huge waste of time and resources. If no one used them we'd kill 21,234 less trees and use 102,348 less gallons of ink each year*.

*my numbers may be off in this post.


And here's my little story about Chip Kidd. When I was a photographer I discovered Chip's (or Mr. Kidd's...not sure which to say) work. I had of course seen a lot of it because he's created some super iconic book cover designs...but I hadn't known who the designer was until I checked design annuals and saw his name plastered in them.

A bunch of years passed and he was doing a signing at a local comic book store with comic book illustrator Alex Ross...they did a book together. I waited in line to get my book signed...I've never done something like this.

The line kind of went like this...people gabbed with Alex for a while, had him sign the book and then move to Chip and left...sorry but that is kinda what went down.

Then I came in...I didn't know who Alex Ross was...so I said hi and skipped over him to ask Chip (or Mr. Kidd) if he'd sign his book The Cheese Monkeys.

I think I was the only one who skipped Alex...because they looked at each other kinda like I was crazy.

Then I might have blown Chip's (or Mr. Kidd's) mind.

In the paper back version of his book there is a line saying that the version had one extra sentence than the hard cover...so I of course asked if that was the extra sentence.

Sadly it was not...but he pointed the other new sentence out.

When I write my first book, and Chip (or Mr. Kidd) designs the cover...I will add that same line to the paperback version and that WILL be the only extra sentence...yes I am a geek.



Independence day

By kenny friedman on Monday, July 26, 2010

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There once was a little boy who was very independent from day one. When he was strapped in a stroller he would find a Houdini-esque way to extricate himself from it. So the stroller was only used for a little while.

When he was between 2 and 3 years-old he was walking in a parking lot with his mom. He started to run from the car his mom said she needed to hold his hand while he walked. He asked why and his mom replied that it's only safe if someone is holding his hand.

So he grabbed his own hand and started walking away. Then he said "I hold my hand."

That boy was me...

Cut to 35 plus years later and I have a son who got that independence gene. One that I believe may lead to pain-in-the-ass-itis.

Early on he started holding his own bottle. Then when he's done he chucks the bottle as far as he can.

The floor bed is helping him become independent because when he wakes up he rolls and/or scoot-crawls across the room to grab a toy and start playing. Oh and didn't you notice the scoot-crawl part...he's 6 months and already crawling...

But one of the times he's most independent is when we're feeding him...or I should say when he's feeding himself.

We're allowed to bring the spoon to his mouth but more often than not he needs to be the one getting the spoon to it's final destination.

This video is from July 4 when we fed him for the first, second time...we started a few weeks before but he wasn't having it then.



The point of this story without a point (but with a video) is that even though Miloh looks nothing like me (except the hairline and earlobes) he's got my personality...which means he'll be a pain in the ass as he grows older.



Week 26 in numbers

By kenny friedman on Sunday, July 25, 2010

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July 16-22



I took a photo Friday and/or Flashback Friday

By kenny friedman on Friday, July 23, 2010

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When I was a kid my first bike was my sister's yellow bike. On the end of the handlebars was a spring that had streamers.

Since the bike was now mine I pulled the streamers of...then while sitting on the bike talking to a friend I somehow got the now naked spring caught in my eyelid. I couldn't move my head away from the bike until my friend got my dad who extricated the spring from my eye. I believe bikes with streamers no longer have that spring for some reason.


After a trip to the doctor I got an eyepatch, an action figure of Muffit from Battlestar Galactica and I think a new bike.

I think getting yourself in odd situations may be a dominant feature...yesterday Miloh somehow shackled himself to his car seat with one of his rubber teething rings...this is just another thing that makes me think Miloh has too much of getting into weird situations part of me in him...



Miloh's 6 month-day

By kenny friedman on Thursday, July 22, 2010

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Today is Miloh's 6 month-day and I planned on doing a big post, but some things came up an I wasn't able to write it in time.

So I'm literally phoning it in as I write this on my phone on my way to work. That means I not only disappointed myself in not writing, but I could be disappointing people who follow me on twitter by not live tweeting the budding romance of 2 riders or tweeting about a woman eating yogurt on the bus (its a disgusting thing to do...and maybe she got the message because today she is having a granola bar.)

But if I did actually write the post I'd start with how I've changed. I've been writing this blog for just over a year and in that time I went from dude who is completely scared to hold a kid to dude who one hands his kid while holding 4 different things in the other arm.

I changed from a guy who takes 8 minutes to change a diaper (to be fair there was a fresh circumcision, his, and gauze to worry about) to being able to change it as fast as a pit crew.

FYI now the yogurt woman is doing her makeup. I think that's kinda disgusting too...plus my theory is that if you wear makeup the people on the bus should be able to see the best you. I mean we see you every day too...don't just keep the "best" for the people in the office. Kevyn Aucoin must be rolling in his grave (yes I know who he us and love his work.)

Back to the subject...if I wrote a real post I'd write about how I still clam up around other kids, but that I'm getting more comfortable around others.

I'd probably mention Staci and again say how awesome she was in the delivery room and how she's a fantastic mom. With her crazy wacky Montessori ideas she's brought into our house she's created a really cool environment for Miloh.

He's so independent already as he rolls to get whatever he wants and how when he wakes up in the morning he rolls off his bed, finds a toy and plays with it until we get him...NO CRYING to wake us up...it's good stuff.

As long as I'm talking about Miloh and mobility I should mention he just started crawling. He got that and scooting down in the same day. I've never seen it live, I saw a video, because he's f-ing with me. I tried to get him to do it this morning but he wouldn't. However the video of the army crawl is almost scary...he moves as fast as the alien from Alien.

Next, since I mentioned him f-ing with us, if I wrote a real post I'd talk about that. How he knows what to do to get keep us from leaving the room when we put him to sleep. How he'll take his pacifier out and look straight at us, then if we do nothing he'll look at us and cry...but not his normal sad cry...it's a different one, one that I believe is fake.

He also fucks with me when I feed him at night. Sometimes my leg will fall asleep and I can't get up...he'll just look at me and giggle. And sometimes when we're changing him if he's in pajamas with a zipper he'll cover the top of the zipper with his hands so we can't zip it up.

Other times he's helpful like when he lifts his legs to help us get the diaper off and on or how he'll hold his own bottle then toss it aside when he's done.

Then I'd write about how he's giggling a ton. How he loves eating...it's almost crazy how much he loves it (upcoming post.) He almost jumps for the next bite. I'd mention how we're already seeing his personality and how it scares me that he may be like me...a pain in the ass.

And last, if I wrote a proper post, I'd talk about how this experience has been amazing. It's true when people say you can't even fathom how becoming a parent will change you. It's an awesome journey.

But like I said I didn't do a proper post. I just wrote a little email that I'm going to now send to blogger.

And for those who follow my morning bus tweets (when I find some good subject matter) the #BusLove girl is on the bus but the guy is not. I really think that has stalled...probably all the sports he was talking.

And the yogurt woman eating is now eating her banana (which I have established as the second grossest thing to eat on a bus besides yogurt. They are both "wet" and in my opinion attract every germ on the bus.)



Weekly Wednesday Wisdom

By kenny friedman on Wednesday, July 21, 2010

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I was correct two weeks ago when I said there was 0% chance the weekly words of wisdom would actually be weekly...because I missed week 2. So here's week 2 (or 3.)

Wisdom for Miloh: It's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission...but it's more satisfying to just say you were right in the first place.

I heard the first part just this year, but I think I've always lived with this philosophy...I added the second part because let's face it, it's true.

So Miloh as you go through life and come up against rules that just make no sense please take this advice...it's worked for me.

HOWEVER...if it's ever a rule or such that your mom and I put out you better ask permission. If you don't I can assure you begging forgiveness will be much harder...you forget I'm a bit Hungarian and can be a lot stubborn.

None of this asking your mom if it's ok if you can go out even though you're grounded...we're both going to be on the same page.

Actually you know what? I'm not exactly sure what you did, when you're going to read this and quote it to me, but you shouldn't have done it.

You're grounded for a month...no questions asked. No car privileges (if you're over 16) or no video Wii 13 (or whatever it will be called) if you're under 16.



Week 25 in numbers

By kenny friedman on Tuesday, July 20, 2010

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July 9-15



Guest Postapalooza: The lady of the house

By kenny friedman on Tuesday, July 20, 2010

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There was one guest post I wasn't able to fit into last week's Girls Girls Girls week. It's from Staci, my wife. She's awesome...but you have to wonder why she puts up with me daily...it can't be easy. Now that there is a mini-Kenny around it will only get worse.

She's fantastic teacher, a great wife and a awesome wife.

You may know a bit about her from the blog but here are some things you might not know:

  • She makes the word "cold" into a 2 syllable word. Co-wald (think about that as you read)
  • She used to 2 spaces after a period but it looks like she made the switch to 1...which is correct
  • However she doesn't bake...I wish she baked...I like baked goods...especially scones
  • She does buy good pastries so that's good.
  • She has tiny feet. I once bought her snowboard boots by seeing if my hand fit...it did and the boots fit her
  • She adds extra modifiers onto words. Like if she has a cut on her knee she says she cut her knee-skin
  • She has a super cute laugh and smile (yeah that sound mushy but it's true)



If you've read Kenny's blog over the year you know his lifelong dream of having his child join him in his love for snowboarding. He enjoys cold weather, loves the mountains, in fact he could could snowboarding for hours on end.

I am always willing to try new things but not in the cold. I prefer to stay inside. However, when Kenny and I started dating (back in 2000) he convinced me to give the 'sport' a try. We were newly-dates and so I wanted to keep up with my new boy.

The moment I told Kenny I would try to snowboard he made sure I was fully set up with gear. I was excited as I really thought I too could look cute as the professional snowboarders. I figured I would impress my new boyfriend and we would forever be boarding all over the world. Filled with love and coolness.

When Kenny showed me the gear I needed it was then that I learned that I had to bundle up in serious amounts of layers which included:
  1. skin tight thermals head to toe
  2. socks that were so thick it makes me sweat thinking about them
  3. thick snow boarding pants that of course don't match the jacket which doesn't match the board which made me feel like a circus clown. 
  4. I needed to wear my contacts so I could wear the goggles and
  5. Kenny made me wear a helmet over my hat
WTF? This was starting to make no sense to me.

Clothing on, I immediately felt like the little boy in A Christmas Story. I was bundled, restricted and had to pee. As I waddled around it was time to "gear up", step into the boots, click the bindings and hit the slopes

It felt like when I put on ice skates. That's when I realized that I couldn't wiggle my toes. I have to say that I cant stand not being able to wiggle my toes and if I can't, I want to wiggle them more. OK...panic attack begins.

However, it was new love, I was younger (24 or so) and I could do anything right??? So I headed to the resort, Kenny signed me up for a beginner class which would last an hour. I walked my board outside and kept a really fake smile on my face to make Kenny happy. He was so excited people must have thought I was a celebrity as he was following me with his camera clicking away at my every move.

I approached my group for the lesson. Met my instructor who must have been born a few months prior, said 'waz up' (I think he gave me a fist bump) and off I went with with my new found friends (aka classmates) who I believe an hour ago hit puberty.

As I scooted to the gondola, I turned to wave to Kenny. I figured it might be the last time I saw my future husband. I headed up the bunny hill like a champ....feeling like a teen at heart.

Right of the bat, it was not good. As I tried to get off the gondola, I wiped out, got stuck and took down a group on little kids all waiting to go down the hill. I believe they had to stop the gondola in order for me to slither off to the side.

My instructor helped me get back on the board as my classmates watched. He gave them a quick tutorial and off they went. Down the hill. He then turned to me. I guess this was going to turn into a private lesson. He told me that the first thing he wanted to teach me was how to fall properly. Seriously? I had to learn how to fall? That makes no sense. Well I practiced a lot in fact I believe I fell approximately 5345 times. Perhaps a new record. I was proud. The instructor told me I was good at falling. Thank you I replied.

I continued to make my way down, falling, heading toward the trees, bumping into kids who were skiing with out poles, etc. Finally I made it to the bottom of the hill. As the rest of the classmates waited for me to get down the hill I decided I was done with the lesson. I could make much better use of my time in the chalet, crazy zoot suit off, feet up, warm and cozy. So when the instructor said, OK lets go again. I told him he was flippin crazy, a good instructor but I was opting out. I said thank you, and turned toward the chalet. It was then that I saw Kenny right behind me. Camera in hand. I was busted. He read me the riot act and some how persuaded me to go up again. This time I made him come with me to prove that I did indeed suck, it was a hazard to have me on the hill and I was much better (and cuter) in the chalet. You know what, I was right. Second time down, not much better just more and more and I really thought that I might need a hip replacement.

Long story short (ha ha) I still try to be a good sport. We do travel to the mountains but Kenny snowboards, I spa. Good times had by all and no broken bones on my end.

So, back to mommy and daddy relevant info.

Every time Kenny talks about our Miloh becoming a snowboarder I think to myself...have fun, meet me at the chalet, the spa or go off on your own daddy son bonding time.

But then what is my sport or activity that I want to get him excited about? I want it to be Miloh's choice but what could I picture myself doing? Music, dance, art, etc maybe circus trapeze? Anything daredeviley in warm weather. I thought gymnastics since I was one for over 15 years.

Then as I was driving the other day it hit me. I could see myself being an awesome soccer mom. OK wait...not a mini van soccer mom, but a different kind of soccer mom.

This is what I think....
  1. Soccer is an international sport. I love all jerseys. I own tons if puma and Adidas zip ups...they are do cute.
  2. equipment isn't expensive...ball, kleets, shorts, shirt, water bottle, I guess a cup since Miloh is a boy but not sure if they wear those. 
  3. summertime or indoors. No snow, no crazy goggles, helmet, ski lifts. It's on the ground. Grass..real or fake, it doesn't matter. Its flat, it's warm and yes, you can wiggle your toes.
  4. my role is simple...i get a chair that folds up (one with a cup holder for my ice coffee) and I am set. Front row and center cheering on my Miloh.
  5. soccer players are hot. Miloh is cute, easy for him to fit in.
  6. if it rains, I can sit in my car and can still watch him play.
  7. I can do this with him. I can kick a ball. Don't need to do much more than that for playing in our yard.
  8. We could travel to the professional world cup soccer games which take place in the summer and I am a teacher therefore I don't work during the summer. Great family vacation.
  9. This is the best part...i could get a cooler and bring snacks for his teammates, the parents, the coaches and everyone is happy. 
Now all I need is for Miloh to start walking and we are good to go.

David Beckham, watch out. Miloh has arrived!!!!

(side note as I am a mother...if Miloh hates sports I would never pressure him to do them, he can be or do whatever he wants in life...OK I feel better now).



Some people mistakenly call me a subarbanite: or why an angel dies every time you go to a drive-thru coffee house

By kenny friedman on Monday, July 19, 2010

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Hey...when you're done reading check me out on ohdeedoh.

If you haven't read my post about my trip to the doctor with Miloh last week you might want to...chronologically these events preceded the doctor but both happened while Staci was out of town.

Some may call me a subarbanite...maybe it's because I live in the subarbs...but in reality I'm not. I'm more of a displaced city guy.

We live where we do because we like our place...it's a rowhouse, which means we have no lawn work to do...yeah you can find those in the city but they are twice as expensive...plus our area is a great place to go riding on a road bike...that's if I ever get on that thing.

I'm not one of those anti-suburb people, obviously, but people often are surprised I live in the burbs...but there are some suburban things that I just can't stand...Drive-thru coffee houses.

Or I guess to be more correct coffee houses with drive-thrus...I can't stand them. Okay, maybe that's not strong enough. They make me totally uncomfortable, I can't stand the long wait, I hate that people wait in a running car for a freaking cup of coffee (or annoying freaking drink - keep reading) and I especially can't stand when I'm in the coffee place and they make the drinks for the lazy folks in the line before they make mine.

Maybe some of my snobiety comes from the days when I worked at coffee houses. When I worked at coffee houses it was before everyone knew the word 'barista.' I was just called the dude at the coffee house. Although I didn't have a fancy title I actually knew how to tamp a portafilter (the handle thingy) and pull a shot of espresso...now it's just a push of the button.

Back to the drive-thru...I won't do them...Staci knows this...I'll begrudgingly go to the shops with a drive-thru, get out of my car and go into the shop...and then I'll get pissed that the shitty barista makes a drink for the person in their car before me (yeah, I know I already said that.)

So when Staci was out and I had the taste for an Iced espresso I headed to the coffee shop...okay to be fair it was a Borders because they have decentish SBC coffee and I could get some stuff while there.

Miloh was in tow...and I figured I could take him around the little outdoor shopping area like any good suburban dad would do,

When I called Staci to let her know what was the plan for Miloh and I she told me to go to a drive-thru...I laughed.

I had a long wait in line because the dude in front of me bought 4 foo-foo drinks for his family. I would love to smack the person who invented frappacinos, which I feel is one of the major downfalls of our society (when I was a coffee dude there were no blended drinks...and everyone was happy.)

After I got my drink, which confused the "barista" a bit, Miloh and I headed out to the mall...we looked at a water fountain (he wasn't a fan) a waterfall (he wasn't a fan) and then headed to get me some ingredients for dinner...which consisted of soy ice cream, chocolate sauce and peanuts...because that hits a lot of food groups and is healthy.

As I was checking out I realized we were super close to the 2 hour wakefulness window for Miloh. I needed to get him in bed in 10 minutes in order to get him to sleep easily...and I was 15 minutes from the house.

To add to that you probably know that if he slept in the car that wouldn't be great because he wouldn't sleep enough and he wakes when we move him.

I ran to the car and got him in the seat...and I started singing to him: "Domo arigato don't go to sleep now. Thank you very much for staaaaaying awake." I sang that all the way home.

I got him in bed just in time...like in a movie where the bomb starts beeping and you cut the wire at the right time...but then the bomb started beeping again...Miloh was pooing...it was now like in Lost where they had to hit the bomb with a fire extinguisher to cool it and stop it form blowing....finally after 15 minutes he slept...it was a good thing

A crisis was averted.

Then I had time to hop on to twitter...people replied to my tweet about my anti-drive-thru stance...they apparently did not agree, one actually said goodbye to the angel they just killed.
They say it's easier than luggin your kid in a stroller...that wasn't hard for me. They say it keeps them from waking their kid when they need a drink...well maybe you don't need that drink (especially if it's a foo-foo blended one.)

All I know is that I won't go through a drive-thru coffee house to get myself a drink...I just can't do it. And that, my friends, is while I'll never really be a surbanite.



The time Miloh's feet turned blue

By kenny friedman on Sunday, July 18, 2010

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This was originally a guest post of at For The Birds...check out Ry's blog here.



My wife Staci was out of town for the first time since our only son Miloh was born 5.5 months ago. I had him all to myself as my in-laws, who live in the same city, and a lot of my friends who could help were all out of town as well.

I knew I'd be able to handle taking care of him for the 2.5 days but I knew I could get a bit tired since it's not easy taking care of a baby all by yourself...but that's all boring.

I guess it started Sunday night when I noticed Miloh had been kicking his right leg an awful lot...I tweeted asking for advice and the consensus was that it was normal...

Then on Monday morning while on a call with someone from my office I noticed that Miloh's right foot was blue...I hung up the phone and went over to him...it was quite dark and looked dirty, but it wasn't. That was the same foot he had been kicking the night before. I knew something was wrong so I called the nurse line and put our dog away.

When I came back down I noticed both of his feet were blue, this couldn't be good...and I was still on hold with the nurse line...so I hung up and headed to urgent care...that's when I learned a couple things:

  • I could get out of the house pretty fast in an emergency
  • My 2004 Toyota Corolla can go 0-70 much faster than you'd think
  • Cops in my neighborhood are not too attentive because they don't notice someone going 70mph in a 35 zone when they are 300 feet away from them
  • We got to urgent care, faster than we should have, and flew in the door...on my way in I almost pushed over an older woman who was limping...you probably think I'm kidding but I'm not...she was close to getting body checked.We headed to the doctor room and the nurse checked him out. She said that Miloh was her favorite patient of the day...I know they say that to all kids and what she really meant to say was that he was her favorite patient ever.

Then the doc came in. At this time Miloh's feet were fine...he was happy...care free. This is when I learned a few new things:

  • Babies feet get cold often (and my wife knew this and supposedly I did too)
  • You don't need to be concerned unless their mouth or hands turn blue...then it could be circulatory
  • You shouldn't leave your house, with your baby, without a bottle just in case it hits his/her feeding time
  • You shouldn't leave your house, with your baby, without a diaper just in case it gets smelly
  • When your diaper bag is right at the door and you notice it as you leave the house you should take a second and pick it up
  • When everything was over and I knew Miloh was OK I called my wife and told her we were leaving urgent care and everything was fine...I may have lied to her and texted her that I was on a work call because I didn't want her to worry when she stepped on her flight back...there's no way to tell for sure if I lied or not.When I told her she said she was really concerned that I didn't tell her about going to urgent care when I was there. I said I didn't tell her because I didn't want her to worry in case there was nothing wrong. 


Then I learned a couple things:

  • This is why when I'm out of town and she heads to the hospital with Miloh I get frantic calls that about him...and then the moral at the end is that he's ok.
  • This I believe is one of the fundamental differences between men and women.

And if it happens again I won't call Staci until I know what's wrong...and I know if the shoe is on the other foot she'll call me the second she thinks something is wrong...but that's OK because we understand this about each other.



Guest Postapalooza: Morgan from The 818

By kenny friedman on Friday, July 16, 2010

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As the greatest guest post week in the history of blogs comes to an end I'd like to first say thanks to all my guest posters and everyone who came and read their posts.

Last up we have Morgan from The818. I think I found her blog from Top Baby Blogs (shameless link to get you to vote for me) and it was really the first mommy blog I really liked. Check it out if you haven't...it's a fantastic miss of her life with Delilah and Scott with some great design stuff peppered in.

Here are things you'll want to know about Morgan:

  • She's married to Scott...this makes her the 3rd guest this week married to a Scott (or Scot)
  • She says she's from The 818 but that is not totally confirmed...she could be from The 747 
  • Either way she lives 2 blocks from a great friend of mine but they don't know each other...however they probably see each other at a coffeehouse or something because the world is weird like that
  • Her Torah portion was much more boring than mine
  • She had some fantastic theories about Lost but they weren't right...mine were also pretty wrong
  • She writes for a living, so you know she's gonna bring some good stuff, and you'll often find her pop up on Cargoh so look for her there...it's a great site, like etsy but more designy (designish?)
  • She, like my wife, is a fan of the double space after a period in a sentence.
  • As you will read she gave me some fantastic delivery room advice

And I should mention that her daughter Dee is super cute and in the top of my list for potential ladies for Miloh once he is grown. Harper, Mandy's daughter is also in the running.



So, Kenny asked me to guest post. And I said yes. And then I promptly passed out. Okay it didn't happen exactly like that. But both of those things did happen. And, they both lead me to a flux capacitor type moment in which I all at once knew what I should post about on Kenny's Blog. See, when Staci was in labor Kenny tweeted asking for last minute advice. Kenny is one of my best internet friends, so naturally I responded with the sage-est advice I could muster from my labor experience: "If she has bangs, and she starts sweating, and they're standing straight up, and you're gonna take pictures? For the love of god man, get her a hair clip!" I'm not trying to brag or anything, but Kenny said it was the best advice he'd gotten to date. So with that in mind I'm going to talk about something that I'm pretty sure all Dads can benefit from: My hair. {But I'll bring it full circle, I promise, I won't leave you hanging on the passing out thing.}


Men who read Smonk You, (there are men who read Smonk You, right?) everything you need to know about your wife, you can learn by looking at her hair. I'm not even really a high maintenance kind of woman, and I still wear my emotions on my head. Like when I was in the seventh grade and my boyfriend Scott May broke up with me and my Grandmother died on the same day and I shaved the bottom of my head from the top of my ears to the base of my neck like a [bleeping] Samurai. Or in college when my future hubby and I broke up and I dyed black streaks through my bleach blonde hair to match the blackness of my cold black heart,obviously, and then used so much czechoslovakian peroxide on it that it fell clean out.


When I was 26 and getting married and life was all around sunshine and roses, my hair was shiny and windswept and generally fabulous, and when I lost my job last year I chopped all that shiny fabulous hair off in favor of a muddy brown bob a'la Audrey Tatou...or possibly someone much more miserable and less cute.


Point being - when my hair started to shed like the dickens (Is it obvious I have no idea what "dickens" are?) and then tie itself in crazy knots, and finally make like a banana and get split ends (like, crazy split ends) I should have known something was up. My hair was speaking to me. Even as I grew it out and coaxed it back to it's natural color in an attempt to reclaim my pre-baby ME {the aforementioned windswept and fabulous version} my hair, my eternal mood ring, was flailing it's little hair arms, and screaming at the top of it's little hair lungs "SOMETHING'S AMISS!!!" (ew, my hair totally does not have arms and lungs - that's a weird visual, and I'm sorry.)


But I paid it no mind. And the other day when Delilah was at my Mother-In-Law's, and Scott was playing the drums downstairs, I sat in the bathroom digging rats nests out of my once shiny hair - and I started to feel dizzy. As the room started to buzz I vaguely remember my hair whispering "I told you so" before the blood drained from my brain and my head hit the floor (but not before my face paid the open bathroom drawer a visit on the way down.)


In no uncertain terms, I passed the EF out. I don't really remember waking up - I just remember that it took a long time for me to figure out what was going on. That I was lying face down on my bathroom floor and that the loud beat I was hearing wasn't coming from some weird club (my first thought was that I was drunk somewhere behind a club...which I honestly can't tell you the last time that happened) but was in fact my husband down stairs. That I hadn't laid down because I was drunk, I had fallen, blacked out, and HOLY SHIT WHAT IF DELILAH HAD BEEN PLAYING ON THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF ME.


After I called Scott enough times that his cell phone shimmied off the shelf he'd laid it on and on to his tom tom he found me standing at the top of the stairs shaking a little and rubbing my head. It wasn't pretty. It freaked us out something fierce.


Long story short, I was dehydrated. Badly dehydrated. From breastfeeding and sweating and some other less pleasant things that I'll refrain from discussing here for fear that Kenny will never let a girl step foot on his blog again. That, and I'm wired weird so this nerve in my abdomen accidentally sent a message to my heart to stop thereby cutting off blood flow to my brain and causing me to pass out. (At least, that's how I understand it. My online medical school wasn't totally clear on that.) I was given IV fluids, and about a million tests, and wow, I just realized that this post has taken a turn for the serious, but the point is, it was a wakeup call. My daughter is nine months old and she's amazing and I've thrown myself into parenting her with reckless abandon, but I've been so busy taking care of her, that I completely forgot to take care of me. But parenthood can do that to you. Which is kind of incredible when you think about it. That you can fall so madly in love with this little thing that you can completely forget about your own needs. But you should try not to. Because happy parents make a happy baby. And...Kenny rules. L'Chaim.



Guest Postapalooza: Mommy Wants Vodka

By kenny friedman on Thursday, July 15, 2010

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Before I introduce my next guest poster I wanted to let you know that my plan of complete slack this week failed as I have a guest post of my own over at For The Birds...it's about some craziness that happened when my wife was out of town. Thanks Ry for asking me to post.

Okay...now on to Becky from Mommy Wants Vodka...I guess I should start by saying that today she is a year older than she was 2 days ago. Here's some other things you should know:

  • She lives in an undisclosed city that I once drove to to check out a used view camera...the camera sucked.
  • You can often find her hanging ate Chili's with Jen, who guest posted 2 days ago...often could be a stretch.
  • She's sarcastic, tells it like it is and is droll like me which is why you need to check out her blog.
  • Her current twitter avatar is rather stoic so it kind of cracks me up a bit more when I read her tweets.
  • If she was ever hired by Hallmark their sales would skyrocket
  • She's writing a book that if anything like her blog will be a great read.

So please enjoy the post...and thank you Becky for being part of my Girls Girls Girls blog anniversary week.



After I read that Kenny was having some concerns about his own head being all flat and stuff, I figured that he should probably read about why he is SUPER lucky not to be married to me. Since you are Kenny's Internet and not my Band of Merry Pranksters, I feel I should tell you that my relationship with my husband, The Daver, is pretty much comparable to that of Mr. Wilson and Dennis The Menace.

You decide who is who.
-------------

Last night after Dave and I watched a very nail-biting episode of American Idol (and by "nail biting" I mean, I do not know why I don't just punch myself in the face with lemons instead), I sat down nearish to him.
(pat pat pat) "The back of your head is entirely flat at the top."
The Daver (ignoring me entirely)(duh): "Yeah?"
Aunt Becky: "Yeah. And the top kinda makes you look like Predator."
The Daver (still absentmindedly pecking away on his Blackberry): "Yeah?"
Aunt Becky: "I bet your mom dropped you on your head a lot."
The Daver: "That explains a lot."
Aunt Becky (giggles): "You know, we could get you one of those helmets they put kids in now to reshape your skull! Those kids look so CUTE!"
The Daver: "NO."
Aunt Becky (laughing): "Can you IMAGINE walking around with one of those helmets as an adult? I'd decorate it for you! I could write your NAME in glitter! Or put some CHICAGO FIRE emblems on it!"
Aunt Becky: *bwahahahahahaha*
The Daver: "I think my skull is done being molded."
Aunt Becky: "Oh."
The Daver: "So don't get any ideas."
Aunt Becky (small voice): "Oh."
The Daver: "Becky? You didn't buy me a helmet, did you?"
Aunt Becky: "....define BUY."
The Daver: (buries LUMPY head in hands)
Aunt Becky: "It's okay, I'll love you and your misshapen head no matter what! Because THAT'S WHAT I LOVE YOU MEANS. TO HAVE, HOLD, AND OBEY...
(pauses)
....your lumpy head!"
The Daver: "You made the priest take out the 'obey' part. Remember?"
Aunt Becky: "That's because I never obey you."
The Daver: "That's for DAMN sure."
Aunt Becky: “As it should be.”
The Daver: “Carry on.”
Now that he's remembered that I never obey him, he won't be as mad when he finds out that I ordered him a plagiocephaly helmet for our anniversary.
I think the "I love my wife" decals and hearts will make him change him mind and he'll decide that wearing a helmet 23 hours a day is a very good idea indeed.



Guest Postapalooza: Harper's Happenings

By kenny friedman on Wednesday, July 14, 2010

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Today's post was written by Mandy over at Harper's Happenings. Mandy is like the little sister I never wanted (just remember I said it first.) I wasn't even going to let her be a part of this but I get a number of emails from her each day begging me to guest post.


Here are some things you may not know about Mandy.
  • she has worked at a coffee house and at Target (as have i both except I never had to wear red and khaki) 
  • she eats a hell of a lot of Pho
  • when she grows up she wants to own a Narwhal farm
  • even though she loves Narwhals there is a rumor that she kills cute little seals for fun
  • she doesn't know where the shift key is
Mandy is also a force to be reckoned with on the Twitter so find her here. And if you find yourself at BlogHer in NYC you can stalk all 5 of my awesome guest posters (postees?) this week there. Also if you find yourself there head to 46th and 6th and but a falafel sandwich from Moshe's falafel cart...you're welcome.



there are numerous reasons i shouldn't be here. i try to stick to guest blogging for people who are not crazy, but i guess this can be my good deed for the year. because you guys? kenny is nuts (and not very nice). no person in their right mind would HATE CHEESE, right? i know. i thought so, too. but the thing is, kenny must be at least somewhat in his right mind because he likes me (although this is something he won't admit easily). it pains me to admit that that fact alone could blow my whole theory on him being crazy and mean - obviously knowing a good thing when you see it is a sign of genius. moving on.

i don't remember the first time i heard kenny was a cheese hater. but i do remember i was APPALLED. cheese is glorious. cheese, like bacon, makes everything better. you guys, it melts. it makes things gooey. how could someone even remotely dislike cheese, let alone HATE it? (minus blue cheese - that's just nasty). and he's a vegetarian! striking cheese from the menu is like cutting out a huge portion of shit you can actually eat. is this guy out of his pf flyer loving mind? (spoiler alert: yes).

then there was the time he emailed me saying someone hacked my site. anyone with a blog or website knows this is heart attack inducing. he emailed me a screen shot of my blog from his computer and the name of it? NOT EVEN APPROPRIATE to type here you guys. it sounded a lot like some shots dot com and i was freaking out. turns out it was just his computer or network or something, but it was then i knew he was out to get me. (he even apologized profusely for good measure - uh huh, sure). since then he has started to spread rumors about me via social media. he tells people i club baby seals and uses un-follow friday to tell people to unfollow and block me. just to piss me off, he won't comment on my blog, but later tweets me that he enjoyed my post. he is like the brother i never asked for or wanted.

then? he posts all these cute videos and photos and stories of Miloh that make my ovaries twitch and make me consider eating a baby (his) (sorry staci, i wouldn't really eat your baby). i also think it's incredibly rude to post weekly and monthly kick ass numbers posts that make the rest of us (namely me) look like terrible parents that don't keep track of anything our kids do. then the time i let (and by let i mean asked) him to guest blog for me, he told me no girls were allowed on his blog, so he wouldn't be needing a reciprocal guest blog in return. instead he wanted my husband to write one for him, which he never did because i told him kenny was really mean so he shouldn't (except really, my husband just forgot after me asking him over 1000 times to do it).

it should be said that his idea for my blog post was to write about how hot he is. as you can see, i took it in an entirely different direction. because one time he told me i was ugly (that never happened. but it should have. it would really help my case right about now).

see how terrible he is? if i were you, i'd stop reading his blog immediately after this super awesome girls week is over. even if he is the original male mommy blogger. no one needs this kind of meanie in their life. now if you'll excuse me, i'm off to unfollow and block him, and i suggest you do the same.

do it for the cheese, people.



Guest Postapalooza: The Next Martha

By kenny friedman on Tuesday, July 13, 2010

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The Next Martha actually has a real name and it is Jen. She writes about 30 different blogs including; The Martha Project,  a blog about raising a gifted kid, and a "fat blog", where she adds mayo to things that should not have mayo.

But the real gold comes from her @thenextmartha twitter updates...they are such gold that if you aren't on twitter you should be just to read them.

One thing I should mention is this post is an exclusive...it is incredibly timely as some of the events happened at the end of last week. I paid her huge dollars to get this exclusive so I hope you enjoy.



When Kenny asked me to guest post I jumped to say yes. He’s like my long lost Jewish hash brown eating brother. To say I like him is like saying that he doesn’t care for cheese. Though he’s not at the toilet training phase of parenthood, when he is I will NOT have any advice for him.

I Have No Toilet Training Advice

I started when most people in this country start. I started talking about it at two years old. I decided what terms I wanted to use and then bore them into submission with it. Right?

We chose the following:
Toilet
Poopy
Pee-Pee
Butt
Penis

This all seems pretty straight forward.
To most.
My kids are not most.

Me: “T where do we put pee-pees?”
T: “In the garden!”

Me: “T where do we put pee-pees?”
T: “At the zoo!”

Me: “T where do we put pee-pees?”
T: “In my pants!”

At this point I don’t know if this kid is hilarious or just not ready. I decided to dedicate a certain amount of time each day to naked time. One day he asked me “Pee-pee’s go down there?” and he pointed to the heater register. I told him that they actually did NOT go down there and then brought him to the toilet to show him it again. Later T said “pee-pees down there.” pointing to the heater register again. I walked over explaining to him that no, the toilet, blah, blah, WHAT IS THAT! Oh, yes he peed down the heater register. It was almost like earlier he wanted me to know that WAS going to be his plan today.

So I found out that if I bribed him with a matchbox car then he would find his way to the toilet. I bought one of those 5 packs and he got one for every pee in the toilet. I didn’t buy new ones I would just go to his container of them and refill the empty slots. This worked so I decided to work on the 2nd step. The poopy step.

I decided to commit to a week or so of naked at home time. He mostly plays on the first floor and in his room and does so independently. One day I was walking up the stairs and it’s never a good sign when you can smell it before you see it. I see him in his room. I look and see nothing. I ask him and he tells me nothing. I then use my mad nose detective skills to lead me to his brother’s room. I look and still don’t see anything…..wait; B never closes his closet doors. I open the door and there it is. One loaf dropped in his closet behind closed doors. Great I’ve got a closet pooper on my hands. B’s room becomes his loaf dropping station for the next few weeks. B was in school so I never told him. I mean how does “Hey B, I’m pretty sure that T is getting his revenge on you by crapping in your room” sound?

I decide to up the bribing by letting him pick a toy at Target and instead of letting him open it I put it on the fireplace mantle for him to see. He knew that if he drops the loaf into the toilet then he gets it.

And guess what? He does.
But not next time.
Another toy and guess what? He does again.

So now he has figured out that if he doesn’t have a toy on the mantle to “work” for he’s not going to do it.

Well isn’t that just craptastic.

I decided that I would PAY someone $100 to train my kid so I should at least use up to that amount on toy bribes. Really can my logic be any worse?

We’re doing pretty well now and I’ve even stopped giving him cars ever time he pees and he seems fine with it.

Until he’s not and decides to starts using our couch as his own pee sponge. The first time I thought maybe it was an accident. The second he actually was standing on the couch peeing from one cushion to the next like he’s playing his own tic-tac-toe-cushion peeing game.

Another time this week we stay home ALL day so he can poop and the ONE hour we are out of the house for chess is when he decides to go. At the park. Climbing and crapping. In his pants.

I have no advice. I don’t know why I can’t do this. I have read books, gone to websites, talked to their doctor and have even asked twitter for help. One part is that I have the types of kids who think “If it ain’t broken don’t fix it” I’m sorry, I’m not moving my kids up to Depends. As long as I have a credit card, this will happen.



Guest Postapalooza: Parenting in Progress

By kenny friedman on Monday, July 12, 2010

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I have a strict no girls allowed policy on my blog...but to celebrate the one year anniversary of Smonk You I decided to allow some girls to hang here just this one time.

The line-up is FANTASTIC, so please stop by everyday to check them out, and remember to check out their blogs too for more greatness.

First up is Mae from Parenting in Progress...she's a fantastic writer of words and will often throw out some awesome tweets. She asked if I had any ideas for a post and I said something about gardening because I'm a little jealous that she has a garden...but there's a reason we live in a row-house with 10 square feet of lawn that I never have to touch. Because if I had to take care of a garden or a lawn it would be dead.

And after you check out her post here check out her blog and check out this post that I will steal sometime in the future (but of course change the names.)



I'm really excited to be guest posting for Kenny and apparently he likes the posts in which I compare my kid to vegetables. Since the only other things I could think of to write about were cheese and Star Trek...

It's very hot in our part of Florida right now, mid 90s and up on the daily, and the sun is so strong that our garden (as are many home gardens in Florida this time of year, yes I feel the need to clarify that lest you consider us incompetent gardeners) is basically fried. While my friends to the North are planting in the spring I'm harvesting some of my last tomatoes. As they harvest at the end of summer I'm planting again.

This was our first garden and our definition of success was twofold: that we be able to eat something we grew in it and that we learn something. We made plenty of mistakes if that's what you want to call them. We drastically underestimated the amount of space broccoli plants need and we harvested the heads too early. The green beans we planted this year grew really well but I disliked eating them. We need to try a different bean this fall. Our zucchini and squash and cucumbers never came up at all, the squirrels got to them quick so obviously a stronger pest protection strategy is in order. And of course The Great Caterpillar Invasion Of 2010 kicked our asses and robbed us of at least 30 tomatoes. Trust me, we will be much more vigilant next time. Sons of bitches. We learned much more than we ate but were still wholly satisfied with the experience. Also, it was fun which is weird because I did not expect to like it. I miss going out in the evenings after Piper goes to bed and watering the plot while I drink wine and think about life's mysteries.

Piper is 18 months old and we're in that place where we're thinking about the next baby, reflecting on all that we've learned so far and what we would do differently or do the same, etc. But we're not ready to start trying yet. We're much too busy enjoying her and learning who she is. Every day she does something new and awesome like learn to climb up on the couch by herself or eat with a fork or say "juice". Today I told her my life would be easier if she used more words and she said "no". For the first time. Ever. Then she smiled at me and laughed. She's a comedian apparently.

Everyday we learn ways we can be better parents to this child and think about ways we'll be different or the same with the next one. In the evenings we talk about what our daughter did that day while we look at gardening books and pick new plants to try to grow. We're still new gardeners. And new parents. Becoming both has been more fun than I ever imagined.



Week 24 in numbers

By kenny friedman on Sunday, July 11, 2010

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July 2-8



It came to my attention that I haven't put any Miloh pics up in awhile

By kenny friedman on Saturday, July 10, 2010

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Miloh's fifth month in numbers

By kenny friedman on Thursday, July 08, 2010

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Wednesday Words of Wisdom: the real www

By kenny friedman on Wednesday, July 07, 2010

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It is a fact that I'm a huge wealth of valuable information and I'd like to pass some of that information on to Miloh. So I'm setting up my Wednesday Words of Wisdom.

I was going to call it Weekly Wednesday Words of Wisdom but that would be WWWW and I'm hoping to get huge search traffic from "what does www stand for." In addition the chance of this being an actual weekly thing where I never miss a week is 0%.

Wisdom for Miloh: "When are you going to stop dating fucked up guys in fucked up situations" is not a good line to use on a girl...especially an ex.

Sure at the time it might sound completely brilliant, she might realize she's been a total idiot, but the chance of that happening is as slim as the chance that I will actually do one of these posts each week.



Diary of a flatheaded boy: the post where I get a complex

By kenny friedman on Monday, July 05, 2010

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At Miloh's 4 month check up Staci and/or I asked an innocent question about his head...it was seeming a little bit flat. Our doctor said she did notice, asked if we'd gone to a physical therapist and said she wanted to check it out...but when she did she told us he looks fine.

Staci heard, "he'll probably need a helmet."

A couple weeks later Staci took Miloh into the doctor for something else...I forget what. Our doc was out and this new dude mentioned Miloh's head. He said that it looked allright because it's symmetrical but that we might want to go see a physical therapist to make sure.

Staci heard, "he needs a helmet."

And this is where one goes online and reads all about the flat head deal (not sure that's the medical name.) Then one learns that it's pretty common now, and with the power of facebook one can realize they know a bunch of folks whose kids needed a helmet to correct this Flat Head Deal.

We did all that. Then one day I was rubbing the back of my head...maybe because my hair feels fantastic, maybe I was stressed out and it was calming, maybe I bumped my noggin on something...there is really no way to know for sure.

So I was rubbing my head and I realized that the back of my head seems relatively flat. I mean I don't go around town rubbing the back of random people's heads and comparing them to mine...or at least I haven't in like 2 years...but it does seem less round than others.

And it's not that I have a huge head which might make it seem less round. I have a tiny head, something Miloh inherited from me. If for some reason I needed to buy a fitted baseball cap I'd have to buy the smallest adult size readily available (this happened when I bought the only one I owned, a vintage looking Chicago Cubs cap.)

No I just have a relatively flat head, so in a way I was ahead (hillarious pun intended) of my time because it was pre Back to Sleep times.

Which brings me to the Back to Sleep saying...I got schooled by Staci's aunt, a nurse, when I said back to bed. The deal is you can put a kid to sleep anywhere and people are so freaking literal that if it was Back to Bed and someone put their kid to sleep on the floor they might not realize they need to be belly up.

While Back to Sleep is cute because of the double entendre I prefer Back to Bed because of the alliteration.

Therefore I suggest different sayings* for different situations:


  • Tush to tuffet
  • Occipital lobe to ottoman
  • Spine to sleep
  • Butt to bed
  • Penis points up
  • Fanny to floor
  • Toes Totally go on Top
  • Can to carpet

Back to Miloh's flat head drama. When we got the physical therapist you could tell she immediately thought he was okay. She even asked if we came because we were worried or because a doctor told us to...but she asked in such a way that you could tell she was worried not to offend us if it was our idea to come...I'm sure many people think their kids heads are too flat.

And yes, Miloh's head is flatter than others, but not too flat and not misshapen...it's just something he inherited from me besides his tiny head and widows peak. Plus since we've gone it seems to be rounding out because he loves being on his belly...so all the worry was for nothing...and now I have a complex about my flat head.

*Every brilliant saying on that list is coprighted and if used without my expressed written consent I will sue your ass.



Week 23 in numbers

By kenny friedman on Monday, July 05, 2010

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June 25- July 1



Floor Bed Friday

By kenny friedman on Friday, July 02, 2010

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This is the kind of thing you wake up to when you have a floor bed. Miloh crawled off his mattress...made it a couple feet and fell asleep sucking his thumb.





baby getty