Sean Harland Stats:
June 30, 2002
Happy Birthday Coulter!
We had a very tired Coulter and Varnell over for dinner and cake. They were just back from roughing it for a few days in the Angeles Forest. Luckily no one was eaten by mountain lions.
This is the ode de Coulter I wrote last year for his birthday...
In decades past a child came to be
As he frets with restless whirls,
Posted by Molli at 10:03 PM
June 29, 2002
Are you watching the counter?
To the left of this blog is a little countdown to when this baby is due. We are well under 100 days and the kicking is steady and often catches me by surprise. I'm trying to keep moving as much as possible, this seems to make the little guy rest. The minute I sit down he starts in shooting goals, doing the can-can or whatever is going on in there. The "there" being what once was my stomach and other organs, but which is now been taken over by the being who seems to be all arms and legs that occassionally protrude and create a weird hard spot on my belly, a bit too reminescent of that movie Alien to make me feel comfortable. Where did all my organs go?
Best not to worry too much about it.
Good morning baby Sydney, time for a walk around the reservoir...
Do we look worried?
Then someone special took me to Millie's for a great meal.
Posted by Molli at 09:10 AM
June 26, 2002
Dupar's and a walk in the park
On this beautiful and 80 degree Wednesday, I met up with Jo and baby Sydney for breakfast at Dupar's in the Farmer's Market. I have had my eye on this diner for some time, so the minute she suggested it I jumped at the chance.
I was not disappointed.
After the most amazing pancakes, I would have preferred to nap but instead we took a pass through Pan Pacific Park. Who knew such a great park could be found right in the middle of Hollywood? It's perfect for walking, strollering, or picnicking.
I'm surprised at the number of people out and about during the day? Do none of you people have jobs? It makes LA feel like a major metropolis, when the stores and restaurants are packed midweek. Yet it does make one worry about the weekend and wonder if you should even attempt to venture out.
I almost forgot, I do have some bad news...
After swimming yesterday, the baby wanted fast food. I don't eat fast food. So right there on Glendale Boulevard we made a little compromise. I would drive him to Burger King and but he would have to at least try the new veggie burger. He negotiated for fries and a shake, that wily one, I cannot imagine what we are in for once he can actually talk.
Longish story short, the veggie burger sucked. It tasted terrible. All the condiments and accessories in the world could not save it. As most staunch vegetarians are probably aware, the thing is even thrown on the grill right next to the meat. You would think that would give it some extra flavor just by association. Moral of the story: should have gone to In & Out... oh yeah, and baby does not (yet) know best...
Where do you think it went wrong?
Posted by Molli at 03:00 PM
June 24, 2002
finding nirvana with clay
I snuck Greg into my ceramics class tonight. He showed us all how it's done.
The workshop is amazing. We have endless clay and a great assortment of underglazes at our disposal. The instructor, painter Frank Romero, often dazzles us with his various works of art. Pablo the dog and Jaqueline the cat wander around the studio all night occasionally asking for attention. If I'm in bad mood (blame it on those damned cranky hormones) before I go, I'm always happy and peaceful about fifteen minutes into the class and completely blissed out after the three way-too-fast hours have slipped by.
Posted by Molli at 10:15 PM
In honor of the boy-to-be inside of me, I have been rereading the Ender's Game series of books by Orson Scott Card. The first book, Ender's Game, was written in the 1970s and it clearly outlines the internet, usergroups and a number of other future inventions that we now live with everyday. The protagonist is a very young, hyper-intelligent boy who is taken away from his parents and trained to be a fighter/strategist in a war against an alien life form called "the buggers". Rumor has it that they intend to make a movie of the first book and include parts of an auxiliary book called Ender's Shadow. I imagine it will be live-action, though the book would be best served through animation.
"Do you think that human parents, once they bear young, are ever truly free again? If life to you means independence, a completely unfettered freedom to do as you like, then none of the sentient creatures is alive. None of us is ever fully free." Orson Scott Card, from Xenocide.
Posted by Molli at 06:10 AM
June 19, 2002
G reviews The Bourne Identity.
And I think Ebert sums it up nicely... "There comes a point at which we realize there will be no higher level to the screenplay, no greater purpose than to expend this kinetic energy. The movie's brutally cynical happy ending reveals that it doesn't take itself seriously. And we catch on (sooner than Marie) that the girl stays in the picture only because--well, there has to be a girl, to provide false suspense and give the loner hero someone to talk to. " Roger Ebert, "Chicago Sun-Times"
Only I would replace "loner" with "loser".
I dig superheroine Franka Potente though, they should have let her strut her stuff more. She is way more interesting to look at than Matt Damon.
Just realized she plays Johnny Depp's first love interest in Blow, before Penelope Cruz comes on the scene.
Posted by Molli at 03:37 PM
Mama needs a new pair of shoes
The freakshow continues... my feet are growing. They are not much wider than six months ago. But they are somehow longer. During yoga this morning I started imagining that my toes have actually gotten longer, perhaps they are more stretched out. I used to wear a size 6.5 or 7 and now I am a solid size 8. Lucky me, at the end of all this I'll still be short and squat with Peggy Hill feet and no cash to buy new shoes.
Posted by Molli at 09:55 AM
June 16, 2002
Father's Day Revisited
from Father’s Day June 2001...
What is it we want from a father? Is it different over time? I know exactly what we want from a mother. We want a mother’s love. It is as simple as that. Her love. Motherly love. There is nothing else like it and nothing can be substituted. Some people seek a mother’s love in a bottle or a pill, sex with strangers and a million other ways. Through the centuries great and mediocre artists alike have sculpted, painted, paper-mached and otherwise assembled the image of Madonna and Child and the pieta (Madonna holding the dying Christ) in an effort to convey the importance of motherly love.
From a mother we want never ending support and encouragement. We want to be wept for, worried about, obsessed over and nagged to death. Just like mother Mary, we want our own mother to think that we are as special as the baby jesus and as spotless as the crucified messiah.
From the father we need something else.
Sticking with the biblical analogy, what did jesus get from his father? God put him to the task. He asked jesus to become the greatest sensation in the world and then let him be put to death. Somehow this sounds pretty par for the course when it comes to dear old dad. Sounds a little like the Joseph Jackson or Murray Wilson (Beach Boys) approach to parenting.
I think their respective prodigies, Michael Jackson and Brian Wilson, would agree, what we need from a father is approval. We want an endorsement from our father that our choices are rock solid.
Some of the most successful and yet unhappiest women and men I know are simply waiting for a father figure to slap them on the back and say, “Well done!” They may be waiting a long time.
Most addiction, self-mutilation, abuse and all those other, terrible things we do to ourselves (and those around us) can be traced back to the basic needs of love and approval. They are separate yet linked. You can have all the mother’s love in the world, but without someone to give you the push you need to get out of the womb and into the world you might just as well stay there.
In college I constantly found myself among people with missing fathers. Studying in a coffeehouse one afternoon with five other students, someone casually mentioned that his father had died when he was young. The table went silent and one by one we discovered that all of us had lost our fathers. We decided to create a “Dead Dads” club, as you can probably guess that was our first and last actual meeting. We all acknowledged that our loss had created a gaping hole in our life. Where this person should have been was an enormous black hole, a giant question mark.
It is not that a mother’s approval is guaranteed or easily won, or even that is not important. It is secondary to that of a father in the same way that the need for his love is secondary. Her love is primal. From birth, a baby instinctively cries for its mother’s arms because she is the source of nourishment, of comfort, of understanding. Next it seeks a father’s eyes for confirmation. These roles are not gender specific; these roles are not created by the mass media or a patriarchal society. This is basic primary and secondary caregiver studies thought up by the likes of Freud and Jung.
And what’s a young person to do with no father and no chance of clouds parting to reveal a big thumbs up to let her know she is doing okay? A brief session of therapy just after college led me to a ridiculously simple conclusion. You have to give it to yourself. And how many times have I seen The Wizard of Oz? I had to learn how to stop looking for it and just give myself permission to make huge decisions, to accomplish great things, to fail miserably and to find the time to acknowledge myself for doing all of these things. Susan, my wonderful though brief analyst, asked me point blank, “What are you waiting for?” To which I had no reply. “Well, if you are waiting for someone to tell you to get on with your life, to buy yourself a car, to change jobs or to do whatever you need to do next. I’m telling you right now, it all sounds good to me. So, get a move on.”
Posted by Molli at 09:17 AM
June 15, 2002
Happy Birthday Emmanuelle!
Posted by Molli at 11:29 PM
June 13, 2002
Another Day at the Races
Amy needed to raise a little cash while she was down here in LA so we took what we could come up with us out to Hollywood Park.
I put everything on ItsAllIntheHeart to Win in the 2nd and she pulled through for me just fine!
Posted by Molli at 06:50 PM
At this stage the baby is ready to rock, so we headed down to the knitting factory (ugh, i know, terrible club) where Hell's Belles absolutely shredded. They are an (almost) all female band that covers AC/DC songs, and does them extremely well. I cannot get "Dirty Deeds" out of my head. The star performers are the lead singer, Om Johari, and the guitarist, Adrian "Angus" Conner. Here's to hoping they come back soon. G also happened to be out of town, so it was time for a little ass-kicking time with my friends Amy and Jeanine. Jeanine apparently knows the band so we hung out with them a bit afterward and I hope I impressed them with my belly. I explained that it's never to early to influence our child in a musical direction. A big salute to the fine ladies of Rock.
I would like to apologize to the readers of this site for my absence. Too busy living to sit down and write about it. I have been feeling a huge surge of energy and just keep going with the flow, barely able to sit down. I've also been experiencing a lot of "movement", kicks and such, from the little boy blue in my belly.
Posted by Molli at 06:28 PM
June 10, 2002
June 07, 2002
Goodbye Dee Dee
Posted by Molli at 03:39 PM
June 06, 2002
The Woman in the Ordinary
by Marge Piercy
The woman in the ordinary pudgy downcast girl
Posted by Molli at 08:50 AM
June 02, 2002
A Good Read
I just got an email from Mike Randle in Barcelona. He is currently on tour with Love and the tour diary is a great read. He is so enthusiastic, loving every minute of each show. It seems the whole band is making the most of the European tour.
We could all use a little European vacation... go ahead, take a little break and read it.
Posted by Molli at 11:26 AM
June 01, 2002
The Heir Apparently
We waited at USC Perinatal for almost two hours while grumpy pregnant women went in and out of the doctor's office. G was nervous while his mom and I just chatted it up. Finally my name was called and we all filed into the examining room. Like a good little patient I hopped up on the examining table, laid back and exposed my ever-growing belly to the technician waiting with ultrasonic jelly in hand. G and his mom watched a big computer screen and I had a little monitor to the right of my head so I could watch the little bugger swim around.
He showed us the different parts of the brain, the spinal cord, the arms and legs. He magically colorized the blood so we could follow it into and out of the fast-beating heart.
We made a lot of oooing and ahhhing noises, completely amazed that this is going on inside my body.
After a little while the technician switched off the machine and said that everything looked fine.
"Well?" I asked. "What is it?"
He smiled. "Oh I know what it is, but let me double check."
He flipped all the machines back on and ran the scanner across my belly once again. "Do you see that?"
We all stared at the monitor, not sure what we should be looking at.
"It's a boy."
We stared harder and I decided to take his word for it.
"How sure are you?' G piped in, a little vklempt.
"Do you mean, could that be the umbilical cord? Well it does not look like that, so I'd say about 98% sure."
Can you count all ten toes?
Posted by Molli at 11:47 AM