Wine

From the very first sip, I knew that Wine and I would have a special relationship. I knew, immediately, that I had found a soulmate – something that was destined to be a solid, reliable fixture in my life, something that would help me to be a happier, calmer, better person. Wine helps me to write, it helps me to socialize, it helps me to appreciate the textures and flavors of food, art, and the people around me, and it helps me to push aside the incessant fear that is the curse of the imaginative. I love wine, so much. I even briefly considered becoming a sommelier so I could share my love of wine with the world, but, alas, there are no good sommelier schools nearby.

And now I can’t fucking have any wine.

My love of wine has always been a more or less private affair. Literally everyone I know is more of a “beer” person than a wine person – they are particularly fond of microbrews. My husband, for instance, gets very excited about cleverly named bottles of beer made my hipsters in Portland – and I do understand the appeal on an intellectual level – but I just can’t get on board. I’ve never cared for the taste of beer – I just don’t like it. And even if I did, I’m not supposed to have it because of the gluten. Of course, a little bit doesn’t hurt me – I’ve drank a small amounts in the past with no ill effects – but my doctor advises against it.

So anyway, my point is, my passion for wine has been a lonely one. Sure I have friends who “like” wine, but are they as passionate about it as me? No.

So what I did, prior to my pregnancy, was have my very own wine tastings, alone like a drunk. I would try lots of new kinds of wines, and test them with various cheeses, dried fruits and other foods. I educated myself about different wine growing regions, different methods of wine making, different grapes and harvesting styles. Not only was this extremely educational, it was extremely enjoyable as well. It was one of my great pleasures in life.

I know in my mind that I could have a glass of wine and it would probably not hurt my baby. I’m not some mindless, mentally defective person who blindly follows the “rules”, regardless of what common sense and thousands of years of human history tell me. But I am, however, a paranoid person with an enormous guilt complex. And so, I don’t drink wine.

I fantasize about it.

I’ve already got a bottle of my favorite wine – Moet et Chandon Champagne – which I plan to crack open in the delivery room, to reward myself after giving birth. And my post pregnancy diet will include one glass of wine per day, as long as I can handle it without getting tipsy or tainting my breastmilk. (Obviously I don’t want to be drunk while taking care of a newborn. I’m not an idiot.)

I look forward to the day when I can introduce my daughter to the joys of wine, teaching her about the proper way to enjoy it, and how NOT to enjoy it. Maybe someday, we’ll do mother-daughter trips to wine growing regions in Germany and Napa and France.

Unless she gets the “beer” gene from her father and scorns my love of wine.

😦

Can I Have Your Old Baby Stuff?

Hello!

Many of you have baby stuff just laying around the house that you don’t need anymore because your baby has grown up a bit. If you feel like getting rid of some of it, I would like to have it! I need to start stocking the nursery here shortly, and would like to spend as little money as possible. The stuff doesn’t have to be fancy or anything – I’m not at all picky. As long as it’s not going to actually harm my baby, I’m happy. Here is a list of what I need:

Stuff I Need
clothes
blankets
high chair
Nursing pillow
Nursing cover
car seat
play pen
toys (for children/babies)
books (for children)
baby music
any leftover non-cloth diapers you might have
unused breast milk storage
Stroller
anything that will help to increase Nadia’s level of genius

Stuff I Don’t Need
decorations (unless they happen to be hot air balloon themed)
bibs/burp cloths (will just use dish towels, not a problem)
shoes (won’t be doing much hiking for a while)
plastic toys
Baby monitor
toys that make irritating sounds or flashes
wipe warmer
clothes that have any of the following words on them: mommy, daddy, grandpa, grandma, boobies, milk, party, diaper, pants, nono, no, spoiled, rotten, brat, monster, bottle, princess, queen, sassy, diva, attitude.

Thank you so much! I love you all!

10 Minutes of TV

Today in the grocery store, I heard a woman tell her child that he if he was good, he could watch “10 minutes of TV” when they got home. This is maybe the most baffling thing I’ve ever heard anyone say to a kid. It’s right up there with “Santa Claus only gives presents to good children” and “don’t say the word ‘hate'”. I don’t get this mentality at all, and here is why – it shows a complete detachment from reality, and a bizarre lack of understanding of the way TV works.

TV shows are always at least 30 minutes in length, if not 60. So, if you watch 10 minutes of TV, assuming it’s an average 30 minute children’s program, then you are only watching the first 10 minutes – which is just enough so you get interested – and then you have to shut it off. OR you watch the middle or last 10 minutes, which means you will be confused about what is actually going on, having missed the first portion/s. Regardless of which 10 minutes you get to watch, it’s more like torture than a reward, and the mother should know this at her age.

So is the mother unaware of this somehow? Has she never watched a TV show?
In what way is torturing your child with a tantalizing ten minutes of TV a reward for good behavior? Is she insane? Look, if you don’t want your kid watching TV, then fine. Don’t let him watch TV. But to let him watch 10 minutes and then shut if off is mean, and miserly, and borderline cruel, and extremely weird. Most importantly, it is NOT a reward.

Someday that kid is going to smother his mother in her sleep. And he will be acquitted after he explains the situation to the judge.

I Don’t Have These Impulses

I am prefacing this blog. This is the preface.

I do NOT judge you if you yourself have these impulses. I do not find any of these impulses in the least bit annoying, nor do I think they are wrong or bad impulses. Most people have one or more of these impulses – they are common and normal.

That being said, I never, ever, ever have any of these impulses.

1) Taking pictures of food.
I can honestly say that I have never eaten or cooked something and felt the need to take a picture of it. Even when I’ve eaten at fancy restaurants where the exquisite presentation is half the fun, I have never wanted to take a picture to commemorate it.

I see pictures that other people take of things they eat and cook, and I say to myself, “Wow, that looks really tasty”, but it never occurs to me to partake in this practice. I just never have that urge.

2) Saving things that have sentimental value.
I’m not a very sentimental person. At all. So when I see people who save birthday and Christmas cards and keep them in little decorative boxes, I feel nothing but puzzled. I never save cards. Why save a card? Am I going to read it again someday, to remind myself that So-And-So wished me a happy birthday seven years ago? No, I’m not.

An even more baffling extension of this is scrapbooking. Not only do scrapbookers save cards, they save receipts and ticket stubs and other bits of debris, and then paste the debris into books with bits of ribbon and glue.

It’s not that I have no emotions – it’s just that I never feel the need to commemorate them by saving objects. I think if I had Alzheimer’s, or some other mental situation that affected my memory, I would probably change my mind. But as it is, if I want to remember something, I just remember it.

3) Surfing
I have never in my life wanted to surf. To me, it looks like getting your ass kicked by the ocean, repeatedly, and like the least amount of fun you can possibly have on the beach.

4) Mountain climbing
Like surfing, but on land. You’re getting your ass kicked by nature. God made mountains hard to climb for a reason – to discourage the practice. There is nothing at the top of a mountain but rocks. If you want a good view, go hot air ballooning. Don’t climb a mountain.

5) Bicycling
I enjoyed bicycling very much, until I turned twelve. At that point, I realized that most people who ride bikes were sad adults with drug problems who had had their licenses suspended. The others were kids not cool enough to have cars or friends with cars.

Of course, outside of the Harbor, there are adults who ride bikes who are functioning member of society, and just do it for exercise or “fun”. For instance, my husband and his family all enjoy riding bikes, even though half of them have been hit by cars while doing so.

I get it, kind of. But nothing will ever make me ride a bike on purpose.

6) Anger Sex
You see this frequently in movies. A couple are arguing fiercely about something, then suddenly they’re making out. Because getting angry gets them all fired up – which somehow translates to feeling horny.

I honestly don’t get this. I can honestly say that for me, anger never morphs into “passion”. Anger, fighting, and debating are not aphrodisiacs. If I’m angry, the last thing in the world I want to do is have sex, or even make out. I just want to fight. Or maybe drink. But not have sex. Ever.

7) Rooting for a sports team.
I have never been into sports, really, although I do enjoy watching gymnastics, the world’s strongest man competition, boxing, and occasionally fake character-based wrestling. But these sports all have one thing in common – they feature individuals, competing individually. Team sports bore the fuck out of me. Perhaps because I myself am not a team player in any sense of the term.

8) Acquiring new technology
I love technology. Obviously, technology has solved many of humanity’s most pressing problems, and will continue to do so.

But I find technology to be boooooooring.

Phil, of course, loves technology and wants to acquire every new gadget, immediately. And he likes to introduce me to new technology. A lot.

To be fair, I always love my new gadgets once I get used to them. But it takes me a long time to warm up to them, and I NEVER want them at first. I find the process of learning a new gadget to be tedious, excessively time consuming and booooooring. I never hear of a new thingy coming out and and go “wow, that would be cool to have”. I can’t even focus on commercials for new gadgets, because that’s how bored I am.

Supernaturally Gifted Baby’s Nemesis

As you know, my baby is supernaturally gifted. It has already caused bizarre changes in natural animal behavior, shown itself capable of growing fruits in off-season, and of curing incurable diseases. But the question remained….what does it MEAN? What is baby’s ultimate calling?

Now we know.

http://www.theonion.com/articles/kate-middleton-shows-off-baby-bump,31362/

http://www.theonion.com/articles/royal-family-releases-kate-middleton-ultrasound-im,30613/

http://www.theonion.com/articles/kate-middleton-feels-royal-baby-kicking-during-que,32685/

Don’t You Dare Hate My Daughter!

As you probably know if you’ve talked with me recently, I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant with a girl child. I spend a lot of time thinking about what she’ll be like, and how I want her life to be, and how she’ll negotiate the world around her. And thinking about all of this makes me feel panicked.

Because society hates young women.

I’m not talking about run-of-the-mill misogyny of the “all women are whores” variety, though that’s certainly a problem. I’m talking about a specific brand of hatred focused solely on young, generally attractive females. This hatred manifests itself through three basic concepts which are propagated rampantly. I will discuss below.

1) Young women are stupid, frivolous and silly.

I am ashamed to admit that I’ve been guilty of propagating this myself. My husband has shameful taste in music and I have said – more than once – that his taste is like a “thirteen year old girl’s”. I have since mended my ways, but society has not.

Think about it. Anything that is popular among young women immediately becomes an object of scorn, simply because young women like it. I call this the “Justin Bieber Effect”. Now, to be fair, I’m not familiar with Justin Beiber’s oeuvre, but I have heard him sing, and he does have a nice (thought not particularly masculine) voice, and a genuine talent for singing. His music is certainly not worse than many other pop singers – but these other pop singers do not receive the mass hatred that Justin Beiber does. So why do people hate Justin Beiber, but not Pop Singer X? Because little girls like him, and therefore he is representative of all that is vapid, inane and silly.

I’m not saying Justin Beiber has a lot of depth to his music. I’m saying ALL pop music is vapid and silly, and singling out Justin Beiber is unfair, and is based solely upon the fact that young women like him, a lot.

Recently, I read an Onion article stating something like “Yahoo Saved By Acquiring the Blogs of 13 Year Old Girls”. Don’t get me wrong, I thought it was sort of funny. But the sentiments behind it are sort of fucked up. The idea is that 13 year old girls are not capable of caring about, much less writing about, important issues or anything weighty. The idea is that the blogs of teenaged girls are full of trite nonsense and idiocy. Now, that may be true a lot of the time. But it is not always true. And when it is true, it is usually because the girls simply don’t have the life experience required to give their writing depth – it doesn’t mean that they’re stupid or shallow.

If my daughter was a teenager and was writing her feelings and thoughts in a blog, I would stab anyone in the face who dared to insinuate that she was shallow and stupid, simply because her blog isn’t about starving Somalians or crafting for Jesus or whatever people think is worthy of a blog nowadays.

2) Young Women Are Immoral

This is a big one, and far more serious than the notion that young women are silly and stupid.

In Southern California, there is a popular radio program on in the mornings called “Kevin and Bean”. When I first moved to California, I was told to listen to it, because it’s “so funny”. Like, everyone in the OC has a total boner for this show. So I gave it a listen – I gave it a shot for a full two weeks, and then I shut it off forever. Here’s why.

Kevin and “Bean” are two old men who spend their mornings saying cruel, judgmental and not particularly funny things about young women. When I first moved here, those women were Britney Spears and Paris Hilton mostly, but there were many other young women discussed. The entire show was devoted to bashing young women – seriously. The entire show. Every day. And their judgments typically focused on one of four things:
A) Young women drink and behave scandalously.
B) Young women have sex, which makes them whores.
C) Young women wear slutty clothes.
D) Young women are stupid and make bad decisions.

People down here love this show. They love it.

Another example of what I mean is the “Teen Mom” phenomenon. If you have never seen the show, it is a “reality show” that follows the lives of teenaged mothers. Now, we all know that being a teenaged parent is difficult, and is certainly not an ideal situation for anyone involved. But if you ever want to feel sick to your stomach, go on the internet and read some of the comments about these poor girls. Actually, don’t. Just take my word for it. It’s awful. Suffice it to say, the commenters all obviously have perfect morals and the teen moms are just worthless sluts who don’t care about their children or anything at all, because they –
A) Drink and behave scandalously.
B) Have sex before marriage, as teenagers, which makes them whores.
C) Wear trashy clothes/have ugly hair, etc.
D) Are stupid and make bad decisions.

Look, I’m not saying these girls do make good decisions all the time. I’m not saying they’re perfect. I’m saying that the level of vitriol spewed at them is completely over the top, and is rooted in some backwards and unrealistic notions of how young women “should be”.

Now of course, my daughter will not become pregnant until she’s good and ready, because I am putting her on birth control as soon as she gets her first period. (Ask me why, if you like, and I’ll explain. But it’s a topic for another blog.) But if she WERE to get pregnant, I would hope that people would judge her as they themselves would like to be judged. Did you have sex before marriage, when you were in high school? OF COURSE YOU DID. Did you ever have a drink too many, and do something stupid? OF COURSE YOU DID. Have you ever made a mistake as a parent? OF COURSE. You aren’t better than the teen moms. You might say “Well I was smart enough to use birth control” but so what? That doesn’t make you morally superior, it just makes you a better planner.

3) A young woman is only a worthy person if she adheres to standards of sexual “purity”.

I can remember being told as a young girl to cover my body in modest clothing to avoid rape. The people who told me this weren’t trying to make me feel bad, nor were they actively misogynistic. That’s just the way they themselves were raised, and it’s the way people thought then. Things are changing a bit now, but unfortunately, the notion still remains that a woman can prevent being raped if she dresses and behaves chastely. The implication being that if she doesn’t dress or behave chastely, she wants to be raped. Obviously. The other implication is extremely insulting to men, in that it insinuates that men’s default setting is “rapist” and they simply can’t control themselves if they see a little exposed skin.

An extreme version of this is seen in societies that require the burqa. The idea being that a woman’s “purity” is so important that it must be protected at all costs. We all remember that school that burned down, and all the girls inside died, because they were forced to stay inside because they weren’t “properly” covered. Better to die than show a little skin.

I once knew a girl who’s parents told her that they’d rather see her dead than lose her “chastity”. That happened in the USA.

This all stems from the messed up notion that women are responsible for restraining men’s sexual urges. Do men have powerful sex drives? Yep. Is that our problem, as women? Nope.

But if you ask some men, it IS women’s responsibility to keep men’s sex drives restrained. They seem to believe that women are conspiring with their penises against their wills to get them in trouble. It’s not MEN’S fault that they have sexual impulses that are intrusive and nagging. It’s the fault of the WOMEN for being so sexy. Yep.

I once heard this quote to illustrate why a it’s a woman’s responsibility to maintain purity. “A key that can unlock any lock is a very good key. But a lock that can be unlocked by any key is a terrible lock.” Aside from the fact that humans are not locks and keys, this quote is stupid for another reason. It insinuates that the entire purpose of a woman is to keep penises out of her, and the entire purpose of a man is to stick his penis into women. That’s it. That’s all we are.

Here’s another stupid “purity” quote. “Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?” The meaning of course being that a man will not want to marry a woman who has sex with him before marriage. The implication is that the only reason for a man to marry a woman is because he wants to have sex with her. Sex is a TERRIBLE reason to get married, first of all. Second, A WOMAN HAS VALUE OUTSIDE OF HER ABILITY TO HAVE SEX WITH A MAN or “milk” as it’s euphemistically called. You marry a woman because she will be a good life partner for you – someone who will help you out through thick and thin, someone who complements your personality, etc. You don’t marry a woman for her vagina alone, unless you want a miserable marriage.

So why is “purity” so important to so many? Well first of all, back in the days before birth control, sex was the ability to create life, which IS a pretty big deal. Having heterosexual sex outside the bonds of marriage was actually a dangerous activity, because it created children who did not have families to care for them. So a woman who had casual, recreational sex was making a very, very bad decision. That’s why so many religions prohibited sex outside of marriage – it wasn’t because sex is “bad” or “dirty” – it’s because back in the day it created bastards, and was thus bad for society. In those days, it was unacceptable for a woman to be a single mother, and she would be shunned from society, as would her unfortunate offspring.

Nowadays, of course, as long as a woman is on birth control, sex outside of marriage is not problematic. I’m not advocating promiscuity – obviously promiscuous sex increases the risk of STDs, and can often carry with it emotional baggage. I’m saying that birth control has eliminated the major problem caused by premarital sex. I’m saying that the notion that a woman must be virginal in order to be “worthy” or “good” or “right with God” is absurd. It’s a notion that is rooted in patriarchal, pre-birth control values, and male resentment over female power.

Because young women don’t have a lot of power. They don’t have wealth, or political power, or physical strength. What they do have is their beauty and sexuality. But beauty and sexuality are not to be sniffed at – their power is quite real. Like I read in some book, “beauty is power like money is power like a gun is power”.

Many men don’t like that. They don’t like that a pretty girl can get them to do things that they normally would not do. They don’t like that a pretty girl can control ANY aspect of their behavior, so afraid are they of being “whipped”. So what can be done? Should men learn how to gain mastery of themselves? Nope. Young, pretty women need to cover their bodies. They need to keep their legs closed and stop being sluts and whores.

And woe to the girls who don’t fall in line. The girls who wear makeup and clothes that accentuate their sexuality and who care about their appearance will be called “shallow” and “stupid” and “slutty”. The girls who have sex will be called “tramps”. The girls who drink will be called “wild” and “irresponsible”. They will all be called stupid and silly. They will all be hated.

I will never tell my daughter that she is responsible for the sexual behavior of boys and men she encounters. I will never tell her that she is responsible for any behavior other than her own. I will not fill her head with outdated notions of what is is to be a “good girl”. I will encourage her to wait to have sex until she is psychologically ready for the emotions that come along with a sexual relationship, but I will never give her the impression that if she does have sex she is somehow “ruined” or “bad”. If she gets drunk and makes an idiot of herself in a bar somewhere, I’m not going to harp on it – the embarrassment is its own punishment, as we all know. If she wants to wear a miniskirt, that’s her own fucking business, and anyone who has a problem with it can take it up with me. A young woman should be proud of her beauty, and should have fun flaunting it while she can, before she’s old and it’s not cute anymore.

But heck, who knows? I could have a son, and all of this worry will be for naught. His blog will be praised, because he’s obviously a budding genius of exceptional sensitivity – after all, it takes courage for a young man to express his emotions like that. And if my son has sex or gets drunk, you know – boys will be boys.

Bizarre Workout

Today I tried a new workout class at the gym. I am not going to name the class, the instructor, or the gym, because A) I like the gym, and don’t wish to malign it. B) The instructor did a good job, for what the class was. C) I think that this class would be awesome for a certain type of person; namely, the type of person who is the opposite of me. I don’t want to discourage EVERYONE from trying the class.

This is how the class went.

It is a cardio-dance based class, so it began very typically, with a light warm up and a couple stretches. Then things went rapidly downhill.

First, the instructor demonstrated a simple grapevine-type move, and we all joined in accordingly. BUT. Everyone was roaming in different directions! The instructor encouraged this, running around and jumping in front of people to make them change course, forcing them to grapevine in different directions. This, supposedly, was to increase “spacial awareness” which seems ridiculous to me, since I have not recently regained my sight after a long bout of blindness, nor am I recovering from a traumatic brain injury. But ok. Fine.

Many people loved the chaos involved in running in different directions. They found the lack of structure to be exciting. I could tell, because their faces were lit up with excitement and they were very “into it”. I’m guessing these are the same people who actually enjoy the singing at Cold Stone Creamery, while those of us who enjoy a tasteful, subdued ice cream experience cringe in corners.

Next, we were instructed to do a strange move where we kick one leg up while lifting one arm. Then we switch legs and arms. Repeat and roam around the room, again, in all different directions. I looked around and felt a strange tug – this looked familiar. Then it hit me.

WE WERE GOOSESTEPPING. WE WERE GOOSESTEPPING TO A TERRIBLE JOHN MELLENCAMP SONG. Suddenly, I felt very uncomfortable. But then I realized that it wasn’t goosestepping in any real sense – after all, the Germans would never allow their march to degenerate into such disorganized frolicking.

The Germans did some things right.

If you have followed my blog for a while now, you know that I have strong feelings about an unspeakable song called “You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful”. Because I am a feminist and not an awful person, I hate that song. I hate the sentiments contained in it, and I hate the fact that no one realizes how awful it is but me. So when the song came on, I was annoyed. However, I kept my annoyance hidden, continuing my “dancing”, while trying to avoid collisions with my fellow classmates. The instructor, however, was not content to let me quietly participate. She came up next to me and began to talk to me, while still microphoned.

“You know when this song comes on the radio and you just get so happy?! So excited?! Doesn’t it just make you want to MOVE?!”

How did she know to single me out?! UGGH. I just nodded and smiled, and she eventually went on her way.

However, now that she noticed me, I was on her radar.

You see, my natural facial expression is blank. I don’t smile naturally unless there is something specific for me to smile about – I just don’t have a lot of emotional range in my face, unless I’m deliberately concentrating on it and forcing myself to look normal. My entire life, I’ve been given shit about my “sour face” and it’s a sensitive subject for me. My face is not sour. I’m just not a smiler. I’m not unhappy; I just am not making any effort to look happy. Most people are content to let me be.

Not all people are content to let me be.

The instructor in this class is one of those people who thinks I need “cheering up”. This happens from time to time. A person sees my glasses, my blank face, and my rather stiff dancing, and decides that I need to loosen up and enjoy life. This is a common occurrence at weddings, parties where I don’t know anyone, but lots of people are drunk, and any situation where fun is mandatory. So after the discussion of the terrible song, the instructor made it a point to get in my face and aggressively dance at me, a maniacal glint in her eye, a giant smile plastered on her face. Because isn’t this fun?! Aren’t we having fun?! THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!

I don’t know what goes through these peoples’ minds, but their actions indicate that their fantasies go something like this:

“Fun person” is having a great time doing Extroverted Activity X. “Fun person” sees “Sober Faced Nerd” in the corner. “Sober Faced Nerd” does not appear to be having as much fun as “Fun Person” which is just tragic. After all, there is only one way to have fun, and no one knows how to have fun better than “Fun Person”. Therefore, “Sober Faced Nerd” is clearly being a Gloomy Gus, as is evidenced by her refusal to grin constantly, and her additional refusal to whoop and holler.

“Fun person” has to act. “Fun person” will keep singling out “Sober Faced Nerd”, trying to draw her out of her shell. Of course, this will end with “Sober Faced Nerd” losing her inhibitions and spontaneously doing the worm on the floor, or slapping her own ass and bending forward and jumping up and down, because “Sober Faced Nerd” was a “Fun Person” all along – she just needed a the guidance and coaxing of “Original Fun Person” to help her!

This is never how it goes, in real life.

I just avoid “Fun Person” at all costs, so as to avoid being singled out again. I never bust out into the worm or start whooping and hollering. It’s just not who I am. It doesn’t mean I’m miserable, or angry or upset. I just means I don’t want to do what Fun Person wants me to do.

Well, the class didn’t get better from there. We had to listen to “Achy Breaky Heart” which is a song that I thought had died, but apparently has not. And, of course, because that’s the type of class it is, the instructor announced “FIND A PARTNER! LINK ARMS! DO SI DO!”

If I’m uncomfortable, sweaty, in a room full of strangers, nothing pisses me off more than the words “find a partner”.

Of course, everyone else was having a great time with it. They loved linking arms with strangers and spinning around. I went along with it, and did what I had to do, but it was awkward, and I was displeased. I got compliments, such as “You’re a great do si do partner!”. I guess that means I didn’t trip? How does one be a “bad” do si do partner? Instead of grabbing the arm, I grab the ass and things take a dark turn? I get violent? I just refuse to link arms?

Sigh. I got a good workout. My heart rate was raised and I managed to avoid injury caused by colliding with my randomly gamboling classmates. That’s the best that can be said.

Discarded Nursery Ideas

The theme for my nursery is going to be “hot air balloons”. Ideally, these will be awesome steampunk hot air balloons, combined with “celestial” elements, like suns, moons, stars, aliens, etc. I’ve been pretty set on this idea for some time, but I thought I would let you see my other, discarded ideas, to see if I can get some other opinions.

(I decided on hot air balloons and celestial elements mainly because I think it will be easier and cheaper than these other ideas.)

1) Carnival of meats
I thought this would be hilarious. But I wouldn’t actually do it, for obvious reasons.

2) Medical curiosities
I would love this for my own room, but I’m concerned that it might be too scary for a baby.

3) Communist leaders
I hate communism, but I love communist style. The leaders tend to be beardy and given to wearing jaunty hats. Also, their stern, joyless faces would give the room an element of discipline and order that nurseries often lack. I discarded the idea because I don’t want to encourage communism.

4) Bears
Bears are awesome. But again, maybe too scary?

5) Cryptozoology
Mermaids and bigfeet and fairies, oh my!

6) Fire
Badass, but don’t want to encourage any latent pyromaniac tendencies.

7) Ancient Egypt
Very cool, but would be too expensive to do properly, with mummies and gold and all that.

8) Gothic, with lots of gargoyles
I think it would seem pretentious and strange in our one-story, Southern California home. Also, expensive.

9) No decorations whatsoever.
This one still tempts me. AFter all, the baby doesn’t give a shit how its room is decorated. Baby won’t care until baby is – what? – in first grade? Maybe baby won’t care at all, ever, if it takes after Phil and I. After all, I suck at decorating and don’t make a priority. I care about aesthetics, but don’t have the money, time, energy or skills to create an aesthetically pleasing home environment for myself. Phil cares a bit more, but even he puts it pretty much at the bottom list of “important things”.

We shall see how this plays out – let me know if you have ideas.