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  • Cow Attack!

    Has this blog jumped the shark?  No, but now, it has perhaps jumped the cow.  Behold the vicious cow of doom! 

    In other news:

    I worked like a fiend to finish work early today too go see a doctor for my pink eye.  Roughly $100 and four hours later, I have a little bottle, less than an inch high, of super special eye drops.  If stinging means they are working, then they are working.

    I am doing a MOS (man on the street) shoot tomorrow morning in midtown for the day job.  Of course the biblical weather predicted means this won't happen, but we have decided to play chicken with the low front and boldly press on! 

    My other exciting performing opportunity was slightly delayed by my hideous eye.  Soon, though.  And linkage when it happens.

    Hugo was so cute today my heart nearly shattered into small uneven pieces.  However, in between adorable and perfect, he was cranky and annoying. I blame him for being a baby and me for having to schlep him into Manhattan and through traffic to get my undead zombie eye fixed.

    Holy Cannoli!  It's about that time -- time for me to shut up!

     Lotsa lurve Internet chickadees,

     And beware of cow attacks,

     xoxo,

    Susie 

     


  • Family Secrets & Sunshine

    First a quick kvetch: I've come down with pink eye.  Painful, itchy, unattractive and certainly caught from Hugo.  This would all be a laugh but I've actually gotten on camera work for later in the week.  Awesome!  Fingers and eyes crossed that it goes away.

    Secondly, via some minor Internet sleuthing, I cracked open a major family scandal that's nearly 100 years old.  However, one family member still feels it's too hot to handle so I'm keeping quiet.  Oh but it's good.  Forget pink eye, my eyeballs nearly dropped to the ground when I read about this nefarious, and rather charmingly hilarious business.  But no more on that.

    While my relations were running from, around or into the law, the relations on my husband's side were growing prize roses and getting knighted for good deeds and such over in merry olde England.

    Speaking of this Brit side, here's a super special guest video featuring Hugo's cousin Annie enjoying the early summer over there.

    Ya, blazing sunshine and bathing suits in May... I certainly don't remember this from my Dickens.
     

    Isn't she absurdly cuuuuuute? Isn't technology amazing? Don't you think it's odd she's not related to me by blood yet sports the fabulous diva hair?

    OK, I've got to get some shut (pink)eye.


  • Chemo Cuties

    I'm in Florida right now visiting a writer/teacher friend, all on my own -- away from the babe and the man unit as of last night.  This is my first time away from Hugo for 24 hours, ever. 

    It's blazingly sunny as I blog this outside a fab joint called the 2nd St. Bakery in Gainesville.  Spanish moss hangs from the trees.  Some massive bird just flew by -- think it was a pterodactyl. A cup of sliceable coffee is being had. A cookie with chocolate, pistachio and cranberry has been demolished.  Hey, it's my lunch, cut me some slack!  Also, calories don't count beneath the Mason Dixon line.  OK I made that up.  ANYWAY...

     

    I'm visiting my friend Sharon (above) because she's awesome.  But luckily her cancer gave me a great excuse to come see her.  Yay cancer!  But seriously folks, today marked her last chemo treament.  And so when the nurses (who were obviously really fond of her) revealed that they had a special final chemo song for her, I knew I had to grab my camera.   I didn't think I'd share it here, I just thought she'd want it for posterity. But Shar is the opposite of shy about this and really eager to share the Shands serenade with all her friends and all of y'all.  I hope you love it as much as we do.

     

    The nurse told us the song comes from Illinois.  Their singing was aces but the confetti really brought it home, no? I am really pro-confetti.  I'm kind of bummed they didn't break it out at NYU when Hugo was born.  That would've been awesome.

    Since this is Toddler Tube, here's a pic of the toddler, even though he's hundreds of miles away. I took this pic yesterday. The fact that he's playing concerned baby doctor, is just a coincidence, swear.

    I know sweet-smelling baby and his handsome daddy and his recovering doggie are doing swell, and not because I call every ten minutes. 

    I only call every 20 minutes.

    Ba Dum BUM!

    Love to you, Internet friends

    And also kisses,

    :) <-- and sincere emoticons too. 

    Susie

     


  • Gettin' Handsy

    File this vignette under "things I didn't think I'd enjoy but now totally go to mush over."  Actually, I guess one could say that's my experience with Mr. baby in a nutshell.  Anyway -- let's go to the video(no)tape!

    In other news, the only news I can think about -- Stan the dog is still not better.  He finally ate a few shards of food late this afternoon so we're encouraged.  Was it due to the painkiller the vet gave him this morning?  Was it laying off the antibiotics... that we're about to start up again? Is he just better?  We've no idea and yet -- just choosing to be positive.  

    Here's another pic of Stan and Hugo from a few months ago, chillin' out (and beging for love) in his nursery.

    Play with us?

    Night Internet. Sorry I'm not chattier but I'm spent from worry and work.

    xoxo,

    Susie 


  • Country Mouse

    First a picture of Hugo (l) and Stan (r) having a chat about our bumper crop this past fall.  Then we'll get onto talking about the here and now and all...

     

    OK, so Stan the dog is still sick and we've still no idea what's going on.  Concentrating is hard.  Sonogram is Wednesday.  One moment I'm convinced he's dying and the next I tell myself it's just a bad tooth and once the antibiotics kick in... But he's still not really eating so the vet said no more antibiotics for now and -- Oi.  I'm just going to refrain from telling you our dog's entire medical history, tempted as I am to do just that. 

    My mom has been calling about 50 X/day desperate to hear, "How Stan is now?  Or now? And how about, right NOW?" And I act annoyed but I'm actually thrilled someone cares about this messy mutt as much as I do. Below is a video taken yesterday in the country. It was a brief respite from dog worries as when Stan is out, he seems to perk up and somehow he's "full of the joys of spring" as my man says.

    Thanks for watching Web dears. See you tomorrow.

    Lots of xoxo,

    Susie


  • Non-MTV Cribs

    Hugo naps at noon.  By 12:05 he's a zombie and he's usually out by 12:06.  He's trained like a seal is all.  Anyway, this video shows off the highlights of his nursery as he's drifting off.  I don't know if it takes a village to raise a child, but it does take one to trick out a babe's room this nicely.  

     

     

    By the way, Steve, whose painting is currently on perma loan to Hugo, is an amazing illustrator (you probably see his work if you watch the commercials during recent Yankees games) who also has a daily sketch blog that s not to be missed. Check out sketchoftheday.blogspot.com.  Also Pikey is an award-winning quilter, just a tad of evidence of this can be seen here. Not to sound "wet" as my Brit would say, but we are really lucky to know such talented artists and have them as family.  Yes, boring sincerity -- deal with it! 

    Oh and the even crib itself is a hand-me-down from my photographer pal Shana. Plus with fabulous baby clothes flying at us from every direction, I think the only thing we've had to buy Hugo has been food.  Ya, I feel very lucky.

    See you soon Internet comrades,

    Mwah!

    xoxo,

    Susie


  • Earth Day NJ: Mommy Flips Out

    Jumbo Shrimp.  Brooklyn College.  And now, improbable as it seems, the deliciously oxymoronic Earth Day New Jersey. The man unit was working this past Sunday and I'd been too busy to plan ahead with friends, so Hugo and I had to find a way to entertain ourselves.  I loathe shopping, so during naptime, when I read about the park with Earth Day Fair and promised children's activities, I said what the hay. Check out my thrilling quest through Satan's arse NJ.  Driving less than 6 miles, took an hour. Oi. Sorry Earth, my bad!

    In other news, I lost 3 pounds this week with moderate diet and exercise.  Which is super impressive if you hadn't read about last week's scandalous weigh-in.  Oh well.  Keep on keepin' on...

    Coming this week, stay tuned for a peek or three into our wacky, fun, drama and food-filled Seder at Grandma's. 

    See you soon Internet friends.

    Kisses,

    me

    UPDATE:  Turns out Earth Day celebration was Saturday, not Sunday and the emails alerting me to the event just showed up late.  But in my DUH-fense, before I went, I swear I checked the park's website.  As you can see the website for Liberty State Park is one page with no links.  But I dug and found the park's calendar of events, which you can see, hasn't been updated since 2001 (!). 

    Still, being caught in traffic and having a little girl in a pretty dress spit on my dog* was cool, right?

    * The mother of the little girl didn't say anything to her daughter when/after she spit on my dog and since the mother was obviously a Muslim (she and what looked like the girl's grandmother were wearing the headscarves), I was too intimidated by my guilty liberal conscience to say anything/get visibly angry.  But when after she spat twice, the little girl made as if to stamp on my dog like he was a little ant, I said, "No, we do not threaten dogs."  But I said it in a really soft way as she wasn't my daughter and again, I didn't want to seem like I had anything against Muslims, because I don't. 

    I know, I'm an idiot for going to Earth Day the wrong day and possibly for being so careful I am incapable, in the moment, of giving minorities the same "me" I'd give anyone else.  


  • Romance & Radiators -- Hot Stuff!

    His Dark And Dangerous Ways -- my mom's latest book

    See that saucy cover? Thing is, my mom has a new book coming out 5.27.08.  For those of you that don't know, which is most of you, my mother is an award-winning author who has published over 30 historical novels.  As her new book is coming out roundabout Mother's Day, I've decided to pull out all the stops and be relentlesly gushy and promotional for her. 

    Why? #1 She writes a great book.  #2 She is totally ridiculously, stupidly shy about being self-promotional. #3 I''ve written to "Regis & Kelly's Mom's Dream Come True Contest" for YEARS trying to get them interested in her only-spoken-to-me dream: having Kelly feature one of her novels as a great beach read.  See my perky blog from 2005 about entering this contest -- somewhat hilariously, you can tell I was convinced we would win.  It would cost them nothing!  She so deserves it!  But alas, no.  Didn't happen.

    So fine! As Babble is about kids and writing all that, I feel this is the perfect place to have you get to know her.  She's my inspiration -- if she could have three kids and a career then impossible is nothing.  OK, she did have a husband who was a doctor, but add in the fact that women of her generation didn't have careers and we're even steven. Almost, maybe?

    Here's mom pre-me and pre-published novelist...

    Mom

    And here, way post-me and post-published 30 novels...

    edith_layton1

    Lookie dat -- no surgery or botox or nothing, people! OK , stay tuned for more on her TK this month including awesome photos of her blatently subjecting me to secondhand smoke! Who misses the 70's? I do!

    Speaking of HOT STUFF... Along with my job and all, I'm trying to learn how to make slammin' podcasts ( like this recent one I appear in but didn't make or write) and original vids.  So I've taken on trying to make a book trailer for a friend. It's for an erotic anthology and I'm attempting to do one straight 'n sexy and one funny.  We shall see!

    OK so speaking of HOT -- here's a motionbox video of Hugo going wild with a radiator and a copy of the Financial Times* Arts section. If that's wrong, I don't wanna be right.

    *Linked brilliant article is by the man unit/papa de Hugo. Yes, I live to promote those I love -- deal!

    NOTE: Second fab photo of mom by Lisa Whiteman
  • Come 4 the Cancer, Stay 4 the Candy

    Today I had work, but I worked from Sloan-Kettering where [redacted secret person] is getting treated for [redacted secret illness].  As these things go it was pretty nice actually.  There are tinkling fountains there, lots of orchids, lovely old friends joined, and we enjoyed free wi-fi, coffee and all the hard candies you could eat.  It almost makes a person want to be sick!

    Anywho, then I had a playdate with S. which was delightful but then it was back to work and then onto the treadmill after 9:30PM and tomorrow I've dentist appointment at 8AM so that work doesn't get annoyed, then I've work, then the joy of seeing the accountant (is any of my drama deductible?).  Oh and the key just broke in the lock so we've also the fun of meeting a locksmith.  So basically?  Life is a bit of a run around right now.  

    Here's a video from a simpler time: the weekend.  As you can see, on the weekend, the run around is much more fun. 

     

    Night Internet.  Big hugs to all o' youse.

    xoxo,

     

    Susie 


  • Stomach Bugged

    The good news: I've lost 3 pounds this week for a total of 6.5 lost.  I'm well on my way to goal: losing 20 -- nearly as much as you see in that there wheelbarrow.

    The bad news: Though I ate right and exercised my little patootie off on six out of seven days, some of that is due to having gotten food poisoning or a virus or who knows what.  I was in pain on Saturday night and last night I shook with chills like a St. Vitus dancer and endured cramps until my insides finally gave up and waved the white flag. 

    I made it to the bathroom and did not pass out while there so I considered the whole trip a roaring success.  This morning I was too dizzy to drive Hugo to school (yes daycare, I know!) so I left it to my man.  But although I felt like death warmed over, and was running a fever, I did work as this is what one does when they telecommute.  Since no one needed to see me, and I could reel around and not fear vomiting on some network execs shoes, I pressed on. I was convinced crampgate was all due to a bag of tainted baby carrots.  But my man unit, who did not partake of the carrots, had to come home from work early and is currently laid up on the couch enduring the same crampy illness. So far, Hugo baby, the unrepentant culprit of all sickness, is fine.  So "go know,"  as my mother would say.

    As I'm feeling crap at the moment and must go walk the dog as the man unit is experiencing a rare malfunction, I'll leave you with a taste of Hugo's entertainment from this weekend's upstate trek.  From all the raking and the barrowing around, we should be quite buff by now.  If the commentary in this video is a bit dull -- you are right!  I was too overcome by the cuteness.  Couldn't speak.  More clever V/O shortly.


  • Speak No Evil? Speak No Nothin'!

    gappjs

    Hugo is a normal happy baby and perfect in all ways.  But he's all but turned off his talking apparatus.  He's just hit 17 months and he talks less than when he was 12 months. 

     Am I worried?  No, the doctor said he's obviously an alert, social and happy baby and it's no sign of his intelligence and that he is absolutely not autistic do't even go there and that it is probably because my husband was a late bloomer.  My man went to Oxford with some sort of special designation for being a brain bucket.  But as a baby, reports from his mother (who should be biased as she thinks the sun rises on his left shoulder and sets on his right) are that he was late in everything.  I think she said he was a blonde blob of a baby who didn't walk until he was 22 -- years old.  Or something. But anyway, awesome, blaming his genes sounds fab.

    Again, am I worried?  OK, yes.  But only because the doctor uttered dreaded words "early intervention" and then she reminded me again that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him and then asked the nurse to leave and asked if I was OK.  Wait, you said there was nothing wrong with him?  So why are you expecting me to be not OK?

    Would you, dear readers, be OK?  How can you both not worry and yet look into "early intervention"?  

     Yes so to illustrate this post I intentionally picked the one video I have of him acting a bit like an autistic potato.  Enjoy!  And I'll let you know how the talking and intervening and all that comes along.

    See you soon Web lovelies, xoxo, Susie
  • Baby's 1st Casino

    I'll get to the shocking footage of a minor on the gaming floor.  But first some housekeeping followed by a photo of extreme cuteness.

    Housekeeping: Yesterday, I was so excited for my brother's baby I wrote, "Hugo has a cousin!"  Which implies that Hugo never had a cousin.  He does, he has lovely cousins in the UK.  He's the first cousin to be had on my side.  I plead joy-induced stupidity!

    Photo of extreme cuteness: This is Hugo wth our neighbor V.  Look at Hugo's blissed out smile!

    DSC_0013

    V. is crazy about babies and babies are crazy about V.  You know how Aquaman can communicate with fish?  That's how V. is with the toddler set.  V. is kind and the best baker I've ever known.  I knew her for years before learning she grew up with her six siblings in a war refugee camp from ages 5-16. They only had use of an oven once a week and she didn't own a non-used pair of shoes until she was 16. She keeps her garden so clean you could perform surgery on it, grows tons of veggies and complains that after weeding and cutting her entire two-acre yard by hand, she gets tired.  Obviously, she makes the rest of us look bad and must be stopped.

    Moving on. 

    I had to do a fun photo gallery in the Catskills for work (link TK soon) and so I visited a lot of bizarre places.  Some were Borscht Belt dreams come true -- exploring the old Concord Hotel and Grossinger's Resort were thrilling, even though they're in ruins.  Some things were thrillingly awful -- like the guy who had a freshly sawed off hog's head as a dashboard ornament (you've got to see to believe).  But only one thing was genuinely depressing:  the gaming center.  Seniors staring at video slots like zombies in a windowless room while a chirpy woman on the PA said "Woo hoo!" and "Gimme a woo hoo!"  We got two crappy coffees at $2.25 a pop and Hugo had a blueberry muffin that contained perhaps half a blueberry.  I took this video but as you can tell I'm unnaturaly quiet because the place scared the heck outta me.  Here's the video:  

    My man unit asked me what would hapen if he ever took up gaming here and I said, sorry, I'd leave him, I should've mentioned this before.  I told him if I ever took this up he should shoot me because obviously I've lost my mind. I mean, I dislike gambling, period.  But at least wth table games you have human opponents and you can flash them a James Bond look as you try to work the psychological angle and --

    During this thrilling conversation a security guard had been deployed to kick us out saying no one under 17 was allowed on the gaming floor and technically and apparently this food court was the gaming floor.  

    I was never happier to be booted out of somewhere.  I was practically skipping.  Honestly jail seems a better deal than video slots.  Jail has a library, free food and more glimpses of sunshine.

    Yes, I hated this place even more than I hate shopping malls, that's how bad it was.

    I'm too tired to keep this post brief.  Apologies!   

    l8r Web friends of wonder.

     xoxo,

    Susie 


  • OMG --IT'S A BOY!!

    I AM NOW AN AUNT!!!  HUGO HAS A COUSIN!!!  AND NO, I WILL NOT USE MY INSIDE VOICE!!!

    Sebastian Q. Felber* was born today: 7 lb. 12 oz.

    From what I hear, the birth was brisk and without too much trauma, and of course I'm dying to hear all about it.  As Hugo's birth and my recovery was like a very special episode of House, for me, hearing about an easy birth is like eating a Reese's Pieces Sundae while watching good p0rn.

    I am totally scooping my brother (blogger, writer for Real Time, NPR star) on his own child's birth.  And I'm posting this beautiful photo I snagged from our mom and am reprinting it here without permission.  I am an Auntierazzi!

     When I heard the news from Adam I was at my weekly playdate and I was crying -- bawling -- with happiness.  I put a sock in it once I realized I might be scaring little Finnegan.  I've wanted to meet an Adam and Jeanne creation for a long time --- even back when I didn't like babies.

    This is one of the best things to happen, ever.  Now, if only Los Angeles would close forever and send everyone home, it would be perfect.  

     And hey, I've got tons of video of Hugo, and yes, I know this is a video blog that posts videos (using a delightful video site called motionbox.com).  But today I can only think of this new life and how happy I am for two of the best parents a kid could ever have. 

    Y'all have a fabulous night and check back tomorrow for a new video blog of excitement!

      * There's a story behind the Q. and yes, its great and maybe my bro will tell it.  Stay tuned.

      


  • Feeling Groovy

    I just got home from seeing old friends who I dearly love.  All comedians, all people who I got to know years ago and instantly felt like I'd finally met peeps from my home panet.  Anyway, I'm feeling no pain and I'm exhasuted (I even got on the dang treadmill today!) and I want to hit the duvets (yes, brag -- we've more than one coverlet!).

    So here's a short and sweet vid of our Hugo in the car this weekend.  Hugo is a great sleeper (no whammys!)  and we want to keep it that way so we plan car trips with terrifying naptime precision.  But looking at the cuteness you'd think it was just a simple drive in the country.  Which it was, and is, but isn't really, if that makes any sense.

      

    L8r Webkins! xoxo, Susie
    Posted Mar 26 2008, 12:40 AM by Susie Felber with | with no comments
    Filed under: , , , , ,
  • Spring, My Spotty Pink Rump

    We spent this past weekend in the Catskills, where we have a charming little weekend house.  Before you go thinking I was born with a tin spoon in my mouth, know that it is a charming 2 bedroom cabin and it cost less than owning a birdhouse anywhere in NYC.

    Save for coming back to find something had died in our fridge and we need a new one, we had a blast. I ran around taking wild photos for my day job, which was a great excuse to visit famous and not-so-famous Borscht Belt sites. But oh it was dang cold. One of the reasons we got a place upstate is that I love to garden.  But although it's nearly April, the ground is still hard as a rock and you can't even rake without a blow torch because the leaves are frozen to the ground. Still we played in the garden.  Why? Because my man is British and manly and I am determined to be tough and was also hoping to see evidence of crocus -- or anything -- coming up. Hugo was not as enthused by the wilderness as you can see in this short vid.

    Thanks for reading and watching Internet pals.

    Until tomorrow, I remain, me
  • The Not-So-Great Outdoors

    That's Hugo at a beautiful playground you've never been to.

    Now here's video, followed by some thrilling info about this stunning locale.

     

    This playground is in West New York, a town whose name betrays the fact that it dearly wishes it wasn't in New Jersey. The playground is awesome, although when we were there it only had a few teens loitering, boys and girls lying on the ground next to the swings, insulting and punching each other ever so happily. Oh and a guy came in look like he wanted to do something shady, but saw the security guard there and shoved off.

    West New York has amazing views. But it also currently has a guy who's assaulting women at gunpoint, which sounds bad until you remember the guy who killed a woman and left her in a dumpster.  But West New York isn't all bad. Besides the sex fiends and the murderers it also has great views and smells like exhaust 24/6.  Not 24/7 because it honestly abates a bit on Sunday.*

    The best part about living in this part of New Jersey?  Even though you're a stone's throw from Manhattan, you never have to worry anyone will drop by unexpectedly, or ever.  Think of the money we save on guest towels.  Why it almost makes up for living in social Siberia!

     All the best, Interweb friends, and kisses to you.

    Next time I'll have pics and photos from a weekend in the truly great outdoors --  the Catskills .

    Until then,

    I remain,

    Susie 

    *Note to shocked British relatives: I am exaggerating for comic effect.  We do not live in a crime-ridden hell hole.  It does, however, smell.  It's actually a New Jersey law that all towns and cities must smell bad.**

     **OK that thing about the smelly town law is not true, but it sure seems like it could be.


  • Happy Crying At My Desk Anniversary

    Here is Hugo a year ago.

    And one year ago this week, I returned to work full time after a desperately awful maternity leave.  My leave was in the dark of winter, in Weehawken, NJ (where I knew no one), with all of my time spent trying to breastfeed and simultaneously heal a raging infection that had developed on my c-section. Nurses visited the house regularly to tend the gash where Hugo was untimely ripped and to teach my husband how to clean and pack my gaping wound with a boatload of saline-coated gauze.  How he's not gay at this point is a marvel to me. 

    Anyway, besides an out of the box difficult medical recovery, I also had to find childcare.  Ah childcare! See, I didn't know anything about childcare before having a child.  I thought it might be affordable -- Ha!  I thought I might find and be able to get a legal competent nanny -- ho ho ho!  Barring that, I thought daycare facilities wouldn't blatantly break the law by not abiding by state-mandated ratios.  Financially, I couldn't afford to work and I couldn't afford not to work.  Even if money were no object, I didn't want to miss the best show of my life working and commuting, but I didn't want to stay home full time and not get to do what I love.  I interviewed a slew of nannies I wouldn't leave my betta with, let alone my baby.  I slipped into a funk to put it entirely too mildly.  

     And I can tell the rest this drama-laden story another time -- about the incompetent nanny, the only seeing Hugo for two hours a day, and yes, the regular sobbing at my desk.

     The day I got clearance to work from home was one of the best days of my life -- without the commute I could take Hugo to a fabulous accredited school that is 100X cheaper than Manhattan daycare or an illegal nanny.  And without the commute I actually get to see him.  And I'm cutting down traffic congestion.  My vacation was cut, my salary has been stagnant and yet I work harder than ever to prove myself to keep the work/life situation and to make it better for the next mom or dad with a babe.  Oh but it took months.  And it took hard work, and yes, prayer, at least to keep my eyes on the prize.  Oh and it also took the work and kindness of wonderful people at my wonderful job who were willing to work with me to find a mutually beneficial solution. 

    I recently revisted and took a video of the nicest daycare facility I visited during that dark time...the daycare you see here is in a  windowless dank basement and after you see their outdoor area, you may be able to imagine what the bad places were like.  

     

    Thanks for listening Internet.  I heart you.

    xoxo,

    Susie 


  • What Happens at Playdate Stays at Playdate

     ...until now.  Watch this shocking video to witness boys gone wild -- there's nothing these piano bashing, animal worshipping, lamp freaks won't do!

     

    If I sound slightly crazed in this video, it's because, #1 I still have the cold from hell and attempted to be super perky in spite of it, and #2 I am genuinely psyched when S. and her boy Finnegan come over for our dinner (This week Trader Joe's frozen spinach pizza, peas and fresh mango) and hang out. It brightens my rather solitary work and it's fun to watch the babes slowly start to interact. The weekly nature of the meeting makes their blooming friendship unfold much like neat-o stop action photography.

    S. is a working writer and a dang good one. In her past she was a performer as well. It's amazing to me that although we live on the same block, if we hadn't had kids born within a fortnight of one another, we ne'er would've met.  Certainly we wouldn't have taken the time to become friends. We are two strangers thrown together thanks to the bootcamp of babydom. But we've a lot in common. Isn't that lucky? Actually, I think it's more than luck, but I will leave it at that and not talk about how I think these things "happen for a reason" for fear I might scare you off with my flakey hoodoo voodoo.

    Later Internet Super Friends! Check back tomorrow for a video PLUS some stunning photos of excitement.

    xoxo,

    Susie


  • It's a Pity Party & You're All Invited

    Last night our friend Rose visited.  It was awesome, and not just because I don't get out anymore and few brave souls venture to the sunny shores of Weehawken.  Rose works in London now as an editor and writer.  She's brilliant, fun and so well-balanced.  Most people are either performer types (yappy drama queens) or audience types (wise listeners) and I love both.  But Rose is rare in that she can give as well as she takes.  I should've taken some video of her.  Her fault for being too interesting.  Oh, and she'd just come from interviewing Elizabeth Gilbert.  If that means something to you, awesome, if not, move on.

     Wait, wasn't this post about something not nice?  Oh yeah.    

    Today = sucky to the nth degree. I can't start complaining because I fear I would not be able to stop.  OK, see?  I just deleted a whole lot of my starting to kvetch. 

    No, forget it -- I rarely share. And the weight of never sharing is dragging me down.  I am going to tell you that I had so much work today, I thought I was going to vomit.  It wasn't hard work. And I like what I do.  But it was fiddly, riddled wth technical snags and there was simply too much.  My husband had written me a sweet email about how quiet I'd been today and I wrote him a stunned, no caps response that told him I had had so much work I felt ill.  He kindly called me and told me to breathe, relax, etc.  He's a good one, he is.  

    Then [REDACTED] called me from [REDACTED HOSPITAL] to chat about [REDACTED MEDICAL CONDITION BECAUSE IT'S A SECRET -- ONE THAT IS SURELY GOING TO KILL ME AS THIS FOUR-YEAR SECRET HAS ALREADY TURNED MY BRAIN TO CHEESE] but I was so busy I totally rushed the call and blew them off.  So then the work wasn't finishing and I need to pick up my baby from daycare (it's a great place but will I ever be OK with the word?) and then it occurs to me that I need to go to the bathroom, but I decide, no -- I've no time to go.  When I realized that I'm not helping humanity, I'm not helping [REDACTED], I'm not near most of my friends or family and I've had a lot of "no time to go to the bathroom" days, I found myself on a rare hysterical crying jag asking myself a mantra of, "Why?  What am I doing?  What am I doing?"  Lotsa fun. 

    What did I do?  Well, unlike in "EAT, PRAY, LOVE" the almighty didn't speak to me.  And unlike her, my husband is the only thing I know I don't want to quit.  So I went back to work.  And I just did what I could.  And I picked up the babe a hair late, and I was OK.     

    OK as in I am probably more fragile as I'm still sick with a massive cold that must have been sent my Ming the Merciless.  Actually, I know who I got the cold from -- the babe, again.  What is he trying to do?  Kill off the host?  Seriously, he can't work my debit card yet.  What is he thinking?

    And so here is the snotty scamp today during our time before bath and bed.  It was a balm for my soul.  As I currently can't breathe through my nose, his teasing me with the tissues was rather cruel, no?   

      

     

    Well, I've got to rest up for another drive child to daycare, followed by another dentist appointment followed by a whole lotta work... etc. TTFN & I promise I'll try to do less complainy posts from now on.
  • The Dog Stays in the Picture

    If our mutt Stan could've gone to college, even a crappy one, I never would've had a child.  Of that I'm sure.  I can not express how much I love this animal.  He's everything I every dreamed of in a dog.  He's a couch potato, who is nonetheless always up to play.  He actually returns a ball when you play fetch (something our childhood dogs never saw the point in) and he learned tricks worthy of Ringling Bros.  Not to brag, but to brag, my dog actually falls to the floor after you shoot him with your finger.  And so my mother's comment -- when she was asked about the trials of taking care of a German Shepherd and her three children -- "we had the kids for the dog" -- makes total sense to me.  Here is Hugo enjoying the furry friend who, in some way, begat him. 

    Posted Mar 12 2008, 11:20 PM by Susie Felber with | with no comments
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  • Peekaboo Peekabrag

    Sometimes, like tonight, when I've only just finished my day job work at 10PM and I've a sink full of dirty dishes and I'm still so sick my nose is naught but an ornamental fountain, I wonder what all the effort is for.  Luckily, I've this grainy video of immense cuteness to remind me. Go ahead, scoff if you want.  It's OK.  I won't hear you over the dishes.     


  • Winter Weekend of Our Discontent

    Let's ignore the fact that it rained enough to have us polishing up our arks.  And forget that my husband spent the entire weekend cursing the skies and this country as he booked and unbooked and booked a Utah ski trip that, in the end, never happened.  And never mind that I was still sick and worked so much last week I had no time to think let alone make any plans for stormapalooza. 

    Because if you ask my Hugo, it was an awesome weekend.  Bubbles. Grandma.  Ice Cream. 

     

    Oh and forget the fact that Hugo had his first-ever teething-related misery all weekend long.  Many tears were kissed away and many times his body melted to the floor like a dying swan.  But instead of looking back and remembering my perfect baby being a perfect crank, let's remember the ice cream, shall we?  Yes we shall as it was captured on video.  No, nothing could be finer, than ice cream at a diner.   


  • I've Got a Golden Tampon!

    I dropped Hugo off at school this morning (school being my preferred euphemism for daycare, in lieu of being able to use the Euro "creche" which sounds like a fizzy citrus drink), raced to an extremely painful dental appointment and then scooted to the nearest store -- Whole Foods -- for much-needed coffee and feminine supplies. 

    The problems started immediately.  Whole Foods is so annoyingly wholesome they don't have any artificial sweetener, only sugar or blue agave (cactus snot).  Great, so at least my fat will be all natural.  And I'd never been caught at a Whole Foods needing womanly things. It quickly dawned on me that there's no Motrin there so you're poop out of luck if you have cramps.  The only way to relieve pain is to stick your midriff in their freezer full of gluten, soy and taste-free waffles.  Awesome.  Oh but they did have tampons.  Natural and organic and more than three times as expensive as regular.  I paid $8 for sixteen chlorine-free tampons whose cotton is not genetically modified and whose pulp comes from managed Scandaniavian forests (I shit ye not).  Has your yoni done anything for the environment today?  Mine has.

     Anyway, as you may be able to tell, I kind of hate Whole Foods.  I like natural products, but the customers dress to shop and the merch sort of says, "Buying free-trade avocado lip balm makes me feel like a saint and it's more fun than my other hobby: flushing money down my toilet." 

    Ah but... except for today's desperation dive into Whole Foods I no longer need to go there.  Why?  Well the heavens parted and sent us a Trader Joe's.  Oh it's wonderful.  The cost is less than Pathmark and the quality is better than Whole Fools.  The only thing we lack?  Well, watch the little video I took the other day on our weekly TJ's shop and find out...

     


  • Burbs & The Baby

    On Sunday we went to visit our old friends Alyssa and Steve in their beautiful house in a fabulous NYC burb -- there's lotsa nature, artists, a good school district and it's 45 mins from Manhattan.  Best part?  It's not Long Island. Why am I not saying the name?  Because I am convinced as soon as I utter it all the annoying parents of the world (not you dear readers) will decide they must go there too.  Although we are not going to move now, and we can't move now, I don't want any of the tracksuit-wearing Canadian goose-sounding moms I spy at Edgewater Panera to have any idea where I've gone.  Because I like to imagine all these people want to be just like me, OK?

    Anywho, our friends made us brunch and then gave us a grand tour.  And they let us bring our mutt and actually acted happy about it.  Oh and I scored a truckload of awesome hand-me-downs for Hugo.  These are quality peoples.  I met them both doing improv comedy back when the earth was still cooling and dinos ruled the land.  Now she's co-owner/creator of a hot lingerie line and he's a bigtime comic book editor.  I imagine that when Steve's little boy goes to school the kid whose dad is an airline pilot hangs his head in shame.  This is a pic I took of Steve, holdin' up a pic of his angelic non-male child.

     

    Anyway, onto to the moving pictures!  Here's a video I made during the visit.  Of course, I forgot to mention I might be making a vid, hence the "Who are you talking to" comment you hear at the end.   


  • Nyquil & Nuts

    I am terribly sick, people.  But I worked today like mad without complaint -- because if you work from home as I do, your co-workers want to see a casket  before they give you sympathy.*  There's this idea that because one works from home, everyday is a vacation.  Oh ho ho.  Working from home is not padding around in padded slippers wondering when to take a nap.  It means I work ten times harder to keep working from home and make it better for the next gal with a babe to do the same. OK, I took Nyquil to stop the racking cough and I shouldn't Ny and write.  Can't focus.  Going into Moses-like trance.  Righty-o: Here's a fun little vid of my Hugo going nuts.  Enjoy!  And for Thors sake, don't let me breathe on you.

    *FYI My co-workers are awesome and although I dig working from home and need to work from home (more on that soon) I wish I saw most of them more often.


    Posted Mar 05 2008, 09:35 PM by Susie Felber with | with no comments
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  • Light Sabers, Animatronic Elvis & I

    The man unit and I needed to kill time to extend the bambino's nap and decided a retailer that recently declared bankruptcy was newsworthy enough to merit a browse.  I'm wearing red ski pants, hence my thighs look like mighty redwoods.  And by the way, if you were in the market for an animatronic Elvis bust, there's never been a better time to buy.

     

    *By "man unit" I mean my husband. Still, man unit sounds like a gadget from the Sharper Image, one that might robotically do dishes after one merely passively-aggressively sighs heavily in the direction of the sink.


  • My Brother Is Having A Baby

    His wife Jeanne is helping.  3/31 is the due date.  It's a boy.  Code name: Fonzie Gromit Felber.  Real name TK.  Tomorrow is the baby shower.  I am dying to go, but it's in LA and I don't have enough vacation time to see the kid both on the inside and the outside of the womb.  So, if I gota pick, I'm going to go with meeting the sprog.

    But I did contribute something for them to read at the shower which I'm going to share with ya'll below, because sharing is caring.  Hopefully they are too busy constructing diaper cakes and sampling petit fours to see it here first, but Jeanne, if you are reading, stop now!  What I wrote will be concluded with a video that depicts and says bye bye to February and its bizarre-o weather, while also inserting a gag for the Brit relations.  And after that, leave a comment here why don't you?  I'd love to hear from you on anything and everything.


    ***

    Hi Jeanne, Adam and the artist currently known as Fonzie!

    I wish I could be with you all today, but it's more important that Time Warner's stockholders make money than it is for me to see those I love.  At least, that's what the glorious leader tells us. 

    Jeanne, I had a baby 16 months ago.  And since you didn't ask, I, your sister-in-law have some brilliant unsolicited advice for you.

    First of all, co-sleeping is bonkers, the health benefits of breastfeeding are overstated and the more money you have, the more time you'll spend worrying about the toxicity of your baby's environment.

    Wow.  That felt GREAT! I've got to not go to more baby showers!

    OK, now that I've pissed off 3/4 of the room, let me tell you a few more helpful things.

    Before I had a kid I thought, "Get over yourself, you had a baby, you didn't cure cancer."  Now I think, "babybabybabybabybabybaby."

    I remember watching in horror as sensible friends acquired babies... their homes began to smell like a ferret's undercarriage, their decor morphed into a style I call Exersaucer Modern, and suddenly a nap schedule was more important than cocktails.  Terrifying stuff.

    A great philosopher once said, "I was a great parent before I had kids -- because I knew everything!" 

    And it's sadly true.  Unlike me, you are a 100% nice person.  But say goodbye to any scrap of judgment you have for how people deal with kids -- even the ones who co-sleep until the kid is in college.  Once you've been through the bootcamp of babydom your convictions will melt away and you will be humbled.  That said, co-sleeping?  Still nuts.*

    If I had one wish it would be to save you from the cluelessness of first-time parenthood. 

    It doesn't matter that you're brilliant and easy-going.  You will worry.  About everything. 

    Example: You know autism is the over-hyped issue of the day, but if your kid isn't tap dancing out of the womb,  you will worry. 

    But I hope that in between fretting that your baby bottles are leeching female hormones or wondering if TV viewing will lead him to a life of low achievement, you take time to just relax.  Stop worrying about what you are or aren't doing for the kid and just admire the miracle.  Because the sad truth is that the Fonz will bloom and grow even if you do no more than feed and water him.  Look at the kids abducted and raised in dungeons who only escape once they are teenagers? They're fiiiiine.

    But seriously, maybe that is why we obsess over these small things, because contemplating our uselessness in front of The Miracle (capital T capital M) is humbling. 

    Finally, a word on love.

    I remember as a kid our mother told us that she loved us so much, that if a hungry tiger was coming after us, she'd throw herself in front of the tiger.    I would scoff and say, "no way." And she would say, "No it's true, I wouldn't even think twice.  It's that instinctual." That was a really comforting thing to hear, even though I knew she'd never have to put up as tigers rarely roamed suburban Long Island.  But I played out the scene in my head many times -- our Bloomingdale's clad mother vs. tiger -- and although I believed her conviction in saying it, I simply didn't believe she'd act as selflessly when confronted by a crazed tiger.  Like, maybe she'd do it, but only to not feel guilty later. 

    And once I had a kid, I got it.  No doubt.  I would trade in my life in a second if it meant my child could live one second more.  Bring on the tigers.

    And that's it.  The love is worth every sacrifice.  Maybe love is sacrifice.  I'm not sure.  But I know you have an amazing soul mate in this journey (that's Adam by the way), an incredible family and more friends than you can shake a stick at.  Go ahead, try to shake a stick at them, bet you can't!

    You needn't worry about a thing, because that kid is is set for life. 

    Still, I wouldn't rule out the dungeon/abduction route.  Very economical.

    Lots of love and can't wait to meet the babybabybabybaby,

    Auntie-to-be Susie

    PS Please return Eris to NY.  Thank you.

    *** 

    Fare Thee Well February

    * Seriously, if you co-sleep, that's OK. I am milking for comedic effect. I don't judge people! Or I do, but I now know I could be wrong. Maybe. Probably not, but it's possible.


  • Lindsay Lohan's Topless Stew Making

     OK, so this video does not show Lindsay Lohan topless. It does, however, does show stew being made to the strains of Lawrence Welk.   Close enough!



  • Super Baby Tuesday

    As we get ready to watch the final Dem primary debate, thought you might enjoy the undeniable thrill ride that is Hugo and I participating in the electoral process.

    Ya, I was trying way too hard to amuse the poll workers. Anywho, should you care who I voted for, full non-boring 'splanation here.


  • Wine Rack & Cheese

    Q:  The problem with vlogging a toddler? 

     

    A: Cinematography has to take a back seat to safety. Ergo, you can forget yo Oscar. 

    Speaking of Oscar, I'm thinking of going to this no cover or minimum viewing party at Comix where many of my friends will be. And by thinking I mean, seeing if I can sell a kidney to afford the babysitter.  Kidney?  Anyone?  It's the liver you might not want due to the ravages of the 1990's.  The kidney?  She's good to go.


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