Riley Feldman's First Blog

I have a sister!

2009-03-31T10:01:00.003-06:00

Well, folks, it's been great having you here, but I have my very own sister now--so we're all congregating over at Feldman Cubs now. See you there!

zzzzzzz

2009-03-31T07:10:00.002-06:00

Mom and dad took a nap for about three hours. Much more comfy with the epidural.

Mom eats ice chips like Abel the golden retriever eats snowballs!

Epidural!

2009-03-31T03:47:00.000-06:00

Mom is full of fentanyl and bupivacaine. Much better!

Dilation, IVs

2009-03-31T03:03:00.002-06:00

5 cm and 90% effaced. And they finally ran an IV line that worked. Epidural coming soon....

Waiting for the stork

2009-03-31T02:46:00.001-06:00

Mom and dad are in the hospital, waiting for the stork.

Bubbles, snow, watch, plant

2009-03-29T23:08:00.004-06:00

You may have heard about our recent encounter with a foot and a half of snow.

First things first: This is Boulder, so it has already melted.

It's gone.

When it was here, though, I took the opportunity to go outside and (try to) blow some frozen bubbles.

First, you dip the wand into the little pool of liquid.

Hmm ...

Om nom nom nom nom!

OK--back to blowing bubbles.

What's wrong with this picture?

Dad tried and tried and tried to show me how to do this, but I can be a strong-willed toddler every so often.

Eventually I gave up and sat in the snow-bench.

Dad stopped wearing his watch months ago, since he could never find it anymore. I'm always baking it in my oven or hiding it somewhere.

So he gave it to me, which I think is neat.

This is a plant.

These hairs were not going to cut themselves

2009-03-26T14:58:00.003-06:00

Dad tried to cut my hairs himself last week, but he stopped when it devolved into his chasing me around the house with scissors.

Mom stepped in and took me to the professionals. And she brought dad's camera too!

If dad had known to park me on a hippo, this would not have been necessary.

Dads are pretty smart, but they're woefully uninformed in a lot of ways.

Bangs!

I'm glad I don't have hairs in my eyes anymore, so I can see the blizzard outside.

Yep, that's more than a foot of snow on my play table!

Dirt and rocks, mostly

2009-03-24T16:45:00.000-06:00

My new thing is to cover my legs in dirt ...

... and then complain that I'm dirty.

Sometimes that annoys dad, and he puts me on rock duty.

I think dad's friend Haley took this one.

Dad took this one. Mom likes to tell dad that there's a baby in there, and it will come out on April first, but I'm in on the joke. It's just a pillow!

Dad says I need to get a haircut "in a big way," but I don't see why.

What? What are you looking at?

I'd really like to keep my raggedy mop top, as it's a big part of my rock and roll look.

The tone on this bridge pickup is way off.

Hmm. Not sure what happens after that.

Dad built this guitar himself, and he used to care what happened to it.

Now he's so occupied with prepping my strawberries, he doesn't even think about those things anymore!

Om nom nom nom.

He did have time to take this photo of what I like to call the "smell tree" in our yard.

Don't ask.

Hitting the gym pretty hard these days

2009-03-23T22:20:00.005-06:00

I've been getting to the gym every Saturday like clockwork.

The toddler dodgeball nationals are just a month away.

Here, I'm telling Brooks about the finer points of gymnastics.

In exchange, he helps me with my forward rolls.

My technique is, of course, impeccable.

Whee!!!

Thwap!!!

That was pretty great, but I always say you should act like you've been there before.

Oh, I can't help it.

Gymnastics class is 45 minutes long, so I usually need two or three snack breaks.

When I carbo-load, no piece of focaccia is safe.

Back to the grind.

Once around the block

2009-03-22T23:41:00.001-06:00

More photos coming soon.

Happy winter!

2009-03-14T22:19:00.004-06:00

Greetings from sunny Boulder, Colorado!

It's still winter, but you wouldn't know it.

I went to the park and played today.

This is a picture of me not getting stuck to this metal pole, which is not ice-cold--even though it's technically winter.

And this is a picture of me pretending to catch snowflakes. I have to pretend, you see, because there are no snowflakes falling--even though it's still winter.

My more astute readers will notice a theme developing here.

Happy 731st, Rosie!

2009-03-08T20:57:00.005-06:00

This is my friend Rosie. She's 731 today, so I got her this nifty bunny puppet.

Rosie would like to point out that she's 731 in days, not years. If you insist on measuring in years. she's two.

Her birthday party was very cool. You can't go wrong giving mallets to toddlers.

I also enjoyed this sneaux cone, which I invented myself with parts I found.

Sneaux is faux snow, in case you couldn't tell.

You can really taste the sneaux!

Hold on. I'm getting a call.

Riley Potamus here.

Uh oh. It's Samuel Bert. He says my sneaux cone is a patent infringement and he's going to sue me.

Oh, right. OK. I'll tell him.

I'm just 22 months old and you've been dead for 25 years. Bring it, Sammy.

This is my friend Henry. He likes dump trucks even more than I do.

And this is Isabella. She really likes my clacking gator walker. I'll remember to bring it next time, when Rosie turns 1096.

This dog is hungry for a mud pie!

2009-03-02T21:43:00.005-07:00

Hello from my favorite park! You and this dog are in for a treat, as I have baked mud pies for everyone!

Here you go, puppy. Om nom nom nom!

I find your canine hesitance disappointing.

Just one taste, dog.

There! Was that so bad? I made it with love--and topsoil!

Calm down, east coasters. The nice dogs out here are big and friendly and accustomed to my antics. I won't feed mud pies to the leashed rodents who relieve themselves on your sidewalks. Ba ha ha ha!

It is enrichment time, people!

2009-02-23T13:31:00.005-07:00

Last weekend, we hopped into the car and headed over to the Denver Children's Museum again.

I like to paint here ...

... mostly because nobody cares when I go off-canvas.

Dad and I made this handy orange juice container purse in the museum's wood shop. It comes in handy when shopping for fake groceries.

Once you buy fake ingredients at this museum, you can cook them in the kitchen.

Sometimes, the fake ingredients can fool even me.

Fake food wasn't filling me up, so we stopped at one of our favorite vegetarian restaurants. It's frequented mostly by fake artists who have tattoos and wish they were living in the East Village in 1974.

Yeah, I have no patience for them either.

I never watch more than the prescribed eight hours of TV per day

2009-02-23T13:29:00.002-07:00

Mom and Dad try to limit my TV time.

Really, they do.

But the fact is, it's the only thing that keeps me still for more than 10 seconds.

And besides, a girl's got to watch Franklin in the morning.

One of Dad's lenses lets him take nice bright photos with nothing but light from the TV and a lamp.

I asked him if he could just use a flash like normal people.

He threatened to turn off the TV, so I stopped asking.

I try to maintain an inqusitive, intellectual appearance while watching TV. That way, Mom and Dad won't worry that we should be reading instead.

It doesn't always work.

Concrete repair and so forth

2009-02-23T13:08:00.004-07:00

There's a fascinating crack in our driveway. The previous tenants seem to have tried to fill it with chewing gum and bees.

As it turns out, those are not contractor-grade repair materials.

I am as surprised as you are.

This is Eva from across the street. (I think that's how you spell her name.) I took my shoes off on the sidewalk, so she helped me put them back on. Very helpful neighbors around here!

This old kid from down the block

2009-02-23T12:37:00.005-07:00

This really old kid on my "beep beep" is Zack. He lives on our block.

This is him in his turtle helmet. I've gotta get one of those.

I was pushing him around the neighborhood recently.

Come back here, Zack!

Whee!!!

Ba ha ha ha ha! He's finally worn out!

Bows!

2009-02-22T23:17:00.003-07:00

Mom distracted me with the TV long enough to get these pretty bows into my hair.

What you're seeing here is me not putting up a fight.

I can't deny it: this is cute.

It is a little subtle, though, with only one full package of bows in my hair.

I wonder if they sell these in 55-gallon drums at Costco.

Even Osa got in on the fun.

What do you think? Do they work on me?

Good--because they're never coming out.

I stretch and learn that cats don't have Google Maps

2009-02-15T21:12:00.004-07:00

Yesterday was gymnastics again. Instead of walking the plank, I had to hold on to this bar.

They claimed that the mat was wired for a "mild corrective response," but I tested it out and nothing happened.

See? No correction. By the way, I'm posting this from Dad's laptop, which he claims is from 2004. Now, I happen to know that they didn't even have computers in 2004, so I think he's just exaggerating. Nevertheless, posting might be a bit light for a few days. Regardless of the year when they made this thing, it's pretty slow and has Photoshop 2 or something. And I can't get anything done without dual monitors anymore.

I actually like doing this. I figure it will stretch me out. I'll get above that third percentile for height in no time.

Today, I was walking down the block when the neighborhood kitty asked me for directions to a good sushi place. Dad took this photo of me explaining how to get to Sushi Zanmai, where they make wasabi dinosaurs. I have no idea how the fish is there, but the dinosaurs are worth the price of admission, and I have a hard time believing that a cat could be very picky about akagai.

I am a product of my environment

2009-02-10T21:08:00.003-07:00

This is my bear, Osa. These days, Osa wears a diaper and asks me to give her water from a sippy cup.

From my parents' excellent example, I'm learning how to take care of a baby.

Open wide, Osa. I don't have all day. Boxing is on CBS this afternoon and I've got five c-notes on that bald kid from Detroit.

The penalties for falling off the beam are unspeakable

2009-02-07T23:01:00.003-07:00

Oh, hello there.

I didn't notice you come in. I was busy watching TV while sitting under the end table and poking my head out, leaning on the ottoman.

It's a new thing I do.

I also grab pens and write all over my parents' mail.

Oh, yes. This one will do nicely.

The parents subject me to weekly gymnastics training now. Apparently I am to make the national team before I get too old. So I have 10 years to go.

Somehow this does not seem natural.

After an hour of walking the plank, I was given my daily meal at the local organic sustainable whole-grain community-oriented gluten-free cooperative wind-powered all-natural watering hole.

You can really taste the cooperation!

I kid. I kid. I love this stuff. And since we were out in public, I even got to eat while clothed.

I'm as surprised as you are.

Last but not least, here's a picture of me dad at 15 months. He is poking a Smith-Corona "type-writer," which apparently is what people used to communicate before the printing press was invented. In the background, you can see my grandparents' iron perched atop an old ironing board, which is what people placed near babies before safety was invented.

I like unusual things

2009-02-05T21:06:00.002-07:00

This is a pickle.

Chomp!

Yes, it's pretty strange for a toddler to eat pickles. I also like olives and falafel.

I roll my pickles around in butter ...

... and pretend they're corn on the cob! (Yep, I eat that too.)

Sometimes my unusual tastes create "inherently comical incongruity." (I learned that term when I was coloring in dad's old textbooks.)

Tonight, Dad told me I couldn't have any apples until I finished my ice cream.

This is a pretty weird house.

What schmatte with you?

2009-02-01T03:00:00.000-07:00

I never let mom put anything pretty, like bows, in my hair.

But mom finally realized that if she wears that stuff, I will too!

Is this more "fabulous" or "stunning?"

Now I don't like to go anywhere without this thing.

We are still getting the fit right.

Before I played with my train set today, we went to gymnastics.

I had a ton of fun as long as I didn't have to do what anyone said.

When we got back, I was super hungry.

I tried preparing my own lunch, but mom and dad insisted on giving me food with "nutrition" ...

... so I grabbed my favorite new snack and started chomping.

Some parents cut up cucumbers for their children ...

... but my parents have a saying: "gnawing builds character."

What's a toddler to do?

(Again, still working on the fit.)

After my meal of a single, whole cucumber, I put my hair up again and got back to the business of toddling.

It's hard work ...

... but someone's got to do it.

Grungy film look

2009-01-31T22:59:00.000-07:00

Dad got a nice new camera, and the first thing he did was figure out how to use it to make pictures that look like they were shot with an oatmeal container.

That's just how he is. Don't get me started.

I occasionally look straight into the camera now.

But usually I don't.

Dad's oat-cam does render Bok Bok pleasingly smooth in backgrounds.

More importantly, Dad couldn't find any potato chips or spoonfuls of margarine, so he gave me cucumbers to eat this afternoon.

I need to tell my people about this.

But first, I need to stare at the TV a bit. Wow Wow Wubbzy is on. I love it ...

... but Mom and Dad just don't understand it at all.

Library and potato chips

2009-01-30T22:48:00.003-07:00

Mom and dad took me to the Boulder County ~~homeless shelter~~ library recently.

They have computers there that I can reformat without upsetting dad.

Dad got bored, so Mom and I put on a puppet show for him.

This show was called "Diego Battles Mega-Frog." Dad was totally into it.

I had to turn off my phone in the library, so I checked my voicemail when we got home.

My factory warranty can't be up; I don't even own a car. Let me speak to your supervisor.

To get me above the third percentile in weight, Mom and Dad have replaced some of my healthy snacks with potato chips.

I like the ones with cracked pepper and sea salt.

Yes, I am saving these face-crumbs for later.