A few days ago we took Gal Smiley to yet another doctor’s appointment. She has to visit the doctor much more often than other toddlers because she’s really tiny, and they are worried that she is not growing, so they check her height and weight all the time and then cluck cluck cluck about it for a while. Recently she had to go for a bunch of tests for lots of scary diseases that all came back negative, so the newest theory is that she just doesn’t get enough fat in her diet.

So, on her doctor’s orders, she’s to up the fat content in her diet. According to our doctor, she should be slathering butter on everything, eating as much ice cream as she can take, drinking whole milk (if not straight cream). Isn’t that everyone’s fantasy? “Oh, I’ll manage to have this doughnut for breakfast, seeing as how my doctor recommends it.” Sheesh!

I just made her a lunch of a grilled cheese sandwich (with butter and full-fat cheese), french fries, and a big bowl of ice cream (melted, as she doesn’t like it cold). Plus she had a few corn chips on the side. There was an apple too and I was going to dip it in caramel sauce but I thought that was enough already. For dinner, I’m thinking mashed potatoes with butter and full-fat sour cream, and maybe some chocolate milk for dessert.

What would you eat if you were Gal Smiley?

I’m back from my 2-day trip to southern Ontario, my first time ever away from the kids for an overnight, all-day event. I have to admit I was really nervous about it — not because I didn’t think that Sir Monkeypants would do a great job, but because sometimes taking care of both kids for a whole day by yourself is stressful and tiring and not much fun, while I was off to a sparkling event full of people ready to swoon at the sight of my fabulous strappy sandals, and it just didn’t seem very fair to my man. Plus I knew I’d miss the munchkins. But it’s amazing how a little vodka and cranberry juice, combined with some Madonna and gorgeous shoes, can help you move on.

Sinnick and NicolaJayne’s wedding reception was a lot of fun and FameThrowa and I got a (bad?) reputation as “the dancing girls.” I must say we kind of rocked it on the dance floor, and to those who saw us in action, no, we were not drunk, we just dance that way. And I made Sinnick compliment my shoes so that completed the circle. NicolaJayne looked gorgeous and gave us extra cookies to take home, which were the best tasting cookies ever in the history of mankind, so overall, totally awesome.

My favourite part was meeting Mr Hand who I have been stalking quietly in LiveJournal for several weeks now, and his lovely partner Tanya who is also a rocking awesome dancer, enough so that I will forgive the fact that she doesn’t know the song Situation by Yaz. And I met Pieman briefly on the way out, and have to say, very nice shirt, dude. Plus I met FameThrowa’s old university friend Jen and her husband Chad, who were just the cutest couple ever and I wanted to eat them with a spoon. I’m sure if I ever see them together with their 2-year-old son I will die from the sheer gorgeousness of their happiness and sweetness and light.

Probably the best part of the trip was the long car ride down and back with FameThrowa, during which we talked pretty much non-stop about all manner of topics. (Confidential to FameThrowa: discussions in the car stay in the car!) Plus we got Arby’s on the way home in Kingston — we needed some serious grease to counteract the 20 desserts we’d each had in the past 24 hours. Ah…a good trip.

It’s great to be home, though — Despite the vodka and the sugar, I did miss those munchkins, and Sir Monkeypants, after all.

When I used to have a really young baby that I was nursing, my schedule got all out of whack and I found sometimes I’d be awake at 2:30am and not be able to get back to sleep, so I’d go down to our office and send emails to my friends with entertaining time-stamps.

The past couple of weeks Gal Smiley has had real trouble sleeping at night and tonight was the worst. She’s been awake for the past 2 1/2 hours — not crying, just awake and alternating between playing with her stuffed sheep, calling for me, and futzing around. I just now put her down after reading many books and giving her some juice so hopefully it will take, but now I’m awake.

It’s only 11:30 in California…anyone awake out there?

I’m a huge fan of Aaron Sorkin — I think he and Joss Whedon are the best writers working in television today, and I’d watch anything they created (side survey: who do you think are the most talented show creators today?). So for Father’s Day I bought Sir Monkeypants the complete series of Sports Night on DVD, and we’ve watched the first few episodes so far.

It’s very good but you can see why the series failed at first — there’s an obvious discrepency between the show that Aaron Sorkin wanted, and the show that the network wanted. The scripts are full of the dense, complex dialogue that is typical Sorkin, with many people talking at once and a few different conversational threads being sustained in a single scene. Much like The West Wing, the show has both humour and drama in it, and overall it’s a much more serious and intellectual show than a regular old sitcom. It’s clear though that the network saw a half-hour show with some humourous elements in it and said, “Sitcom!,” and tried to force it into that mold. For starters, there’s a very odd laugh track that tries to worm its way into quick-patter conversations that is just distracting, and for the most part, randomly inserted after lines that are funny in that they are building to an overall effect, but aren’t big “punchlines” like you’d see on something like The Cosby Show. Then, there’s the overall look of the show — even though it is directed in an unusal manner for a sitcom, with lots of interesting angles that work with the complex dialogue, it has an overall flat and bright look that is very traditional sitcom in a “Three’s Company” kind of way.

I watched a few of the later episodes before the show went off the air and I think the laugh track had been eliminated, so I’m looking forward to the show moving in a more Sorkinesque direction. I suspect that this show paved the way for the more non-traditional sitcoms of today, like Arrested Development, The Office, and even My Name Is Earl (is there a laugh track on that show? I don’t remember one). If it debuted next season I think it would be a big hit. It’s kind of sad to see a show die because it was ahead of its time.

One time when we were in university, my friend Gord turned to me and and said, “Corey Hart does not have a new album right now.” And we were like, “Um…what?” And he explained, “There is no new album by Corey Hart at this time. We are not hearing him on the radio, we don’t see his posters around campus, we don’t see him on TV, no one is humming his tunes in the hallways.” Then he suggested that we take a moment to appreciate this fact while we still could, because soon, he would have a new album, and we’d be like, “Doh, why didn’t we appreciate our non-Corey-Hart status while we still could?”

So since then, the appreciation of a non-event is called a Corey Hart Moment. Like this morning, for example, Sir Monkeypants was pointing out that he doesn’t actually have any mosquito bites right now — a Corey Hart Moment. And the other day, MyFriendJen was saying that her young son, for once, doesn’t have an ear infection — another Corey Hart Moment. And Juliette Lewis does not have a new movie coming out — Corey Hart Moment for me!

Also…Corey Hart does not currently have a new album.

I won $2 at poker on Sunday and since it’s not a high-rollers game or anything, that $2 made me the big winner. So I took it as a sign and today shlepped the kids to the mall to have another look at the impractical strappy sandals I passed over last week.

Turns out they were on sale for $30. Fate could not be speaking more clearly. They’re now in my living room :).

A year or so after Sir Monkeypants started playing in a regular poker game, I started one of my own with some of the wives/girlfriends of the guys in his game. Unlike the men, we only play for $5 and I don’t think anyone has actually lost more than $3 a night. It’s really all about the snacks and chatting. If you’re the host, the pressure to provide a good spread is heavy and I’m always on the lookout for exciting new snack foods to try. After everyone gets there it usually takes about half an hour to play the first three hands because we are busy admiring the snacks, getting a plateful of snacks, and making “yum yum” sounds about the snacks. Last time we played we were in Mrs Carl Sagan’s basement, and I had to come upstairs to refill the bowl of Party Mix at the half hour point, and her husband Carl, who is a pretty serious player, thought it was pretty hilarious that we’d a) made it through the first bowl already, and b) only played two hands because we were busy chatting about everyone’s kids and kept forgetting whose turn it was to bet.

A while ago BarkyShark made a guest appearance at one of our games and she was much more advanced than us. She actually dared to use the blue chips — value 25 cents — which we basically had never used before, except occasionally to get some change for more nickels. She’d be happy to know that since her visit we do occasionally bet dimes. Anyway, she advised us that we couldn’t really be considered a serious game unless we all had intimidating nicknames to throw around, so we got straight to work at picking some out. Here’s our list.

Agi: She’s The Ballbuster because when made the unheard-of monster bet of $1, Agi didn’t back down and called her, and won the hand. Since then she’s proven she won’t back down from a big bet or a big fight.

MyFriendJen: She’s Hold ‘Em because she always wins at Texas Hold ‘Em, even though it’s one of her least favourite games. We’ve even started folding if Jen bets anything because you know right away it’s a hopeless case.

LuckySevens: She’s Sevens because she has the worst luck of all of us, and often comes out in the red, and once a game of 5-card-stud was called in which “a natural pair of sevens takes all,” and unbelieveably she was dealt just such a pair, and was finally poised to make a killing, but then due to some problem with the deal we had to redeal, and it was just so sad. Now whenever there is a redeal we tease her about losing out on a great hand.

FameThrowa: She’s Nerves which is short for “Nerves of Steel” because she’s by far the most nervous nelly of the group. Even though she is a good player she is usually the most likely to dither over whether she’s in or out for ages. We don’t mind though because it gives us a chance to get more snacks and do more chatting, and then ask the usual question, “What’s going on here? Where are we?”

Mrs Carl Sagan: She’s The Eraser because she started the idea of rubbing your cards for good luck — when you get dealt a new card for your hand, you must rub it before looking. It doesn’t really work that often. But it’s intimidating in a charming, hilarious sort of way so it works for her nickname.

Me: I’m The Bittermaker because it’s my favourite poker word for when I have a great hand but someone else just barely beats me out. Bittermaker! But I like to think that it’s my nickname because I make the other players bitter as I take all their hard-earned nickels. Oh, I’m a killer, people!

I usually lose more often than I win but a couple of games ago, on the way out the door, I was making sure I had enough change, and Sir Monkeypants said, “Here’s a novel idea. How about you just win?” and then I won the biggest amount anyone had ever won, $5. So tomorrow I’m looking to clean up again. Then I’m going out to get that pair of strappy sandals I didn’t get yesterday and already regret. Momma needs a new pair of shoes!

The other day I overheard Sir Monkeypants explaining to Captain Jelly Belly that boys wear shoes so that they can go walking, but girls wear shoes for fashion, as evidenced by Gal Smiley who loves her footwear more than most other things in life, and gets very cross if you refer to her “sandals” as “shoes” when clearly, they are a whole separate kind of foot decoration. Please.

My own shoes, however, tend to be very utilitarian. Sure, there was that time a few years ago when I was in NYC with a sprained foot and bought a pair of shoes without trying them on the left foot, because I loved them. But since then it’s been mostly about comfort and function, rather than style.

I didn’t think I minded too much until today. I was at the mall looking for a new pair of fancy sandals to wear to Sinnick and NicolaJayne’s wedding reception. I found this lovely pair of very strappy black sandals, with a little sparkle on the straps, and a tall thin heel. I love, love, loved them. And they were only $40. They weren’t uncomfortable at all, either, but given their height, and the thinness of the heel, and the fact that the straps were a little bit loose, I knew they probably wouldn’t last a whole night. But I loved them anyway.

But right next two them were some quiet little black sandals with a spongy, low heel, and snug elastic straps that were super comfy. They fit like sneakers and I knew I could wear them to dance the night away. And they were only $25.

So I got the practical pair. But I don’t love them. I’ll probably get a lot more use out of them and they will probably bring me comfort forever. But the passion just isn’t there.

Sigh.

Maybe sometime you’ll be out swimming with your kids. And you’ll find you forgot to bring a diaper to put on the little one for the way home. And you’ll think to yourself that the Little Swimmer swim diaper will hold for the ride home.

It will not.

And speaking of food, I was at the mall yesterday and — no surprise — the Soup Man is closed. It just wasn’t getting enough traffic, sadly. I’ll miss you, soup dude, and your yummy yummy soups.