[Editor's Note: Today one of my favorite bloggers graces this here weblog with her prose. Emily, of The Waiting Blog, is a fantabulous writer, blogger, humorist, friend, and mother. Her work has been featured on BlogHer and has been Freshly Pressed twice. Her blog has even been endorsed by WordPress as a Recommended Family Blog. Thank you, Emily, for temporarily lowering your standards to post here.
I was actually flattered when she let it be known she'd like to post here, as I feel she's far too talented and will make my ramblings look paltry in comparison. But then I thought of the page views she'd generate....
Anywho...please do yourself a favor and head on over to Emily's blog once you're finished reading here and click on the almighty follow button for family-friendly hilarity delivered straight to your inbox.]
semicohesive writer amazing blogger is a baby providing their blogging parent with fodder. It is no coincidence that it took me getting pregnant to kickstart my illustrious blogging career, the mouthpiece of a person who has no qualms talking about the frequency at which I pee and my child's raisin poops. I am not above contributing to the world one more birth story, one more anecdote on how nasty kids can be, and one more gooey sweet love letter to my doting child. Thus, I found my calling: mommy blogger extraordinaire.
But what about the babies behind these blogs? My 14-month-old Wee Cee jumped at the chance to interview Twindaddy's toddler Baby C. They had much to hash out. Today, I submit to you, o denizens of Stuphblog, a meeting of the minds between two bloggy babies.
WEE CEE: Hi, Baby C! Since you have an entire year on me and are so wise in the ways of the world, I have many questions for you. Let’s start with the most important: any tips for transitioning into the world of Star Wars? I am completely fed up with my mom trying to feed me this Yo Gabba Gabba crap. I need some meatier stories. Plus, I’m not even a biter so I fail to see the purpose of teaching me songs discouraging me from the practice.
BABY C: Yo Gabba Gabba? I don’t even know what that is.
WEE CEE: Count yourself lucky. My mom thinks DJ Lance looks like Barack Obama and I can’t be bothered with politics. I’m too busy trying to crack the code to the toilet lock.
BABY C: Barack who?
WEE CEE: It’s the guy trapped in the TV. The guy other than Mr. Rogers.
BABY C: Well, personally, I watch Bubble Guppies, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and Sesame Street. Elmo makes me giggle. Oh, and Star Wars of course. My favorite thing about Star Wars is the opening crawl. Nothing is more magical than the opening crawl and the music that goes along with it. It is so fun to watch even though I can’t read the words.
WEE CEE: Opening crawl? Whoa, whoa, whoa. I have been walking for three months. Are you trying to get me to regress?
BABY C: The Star Wars toys are pretty awesome, too. I love the toys. Especially the ones that make noise. My dad has a coin bank that plays the Imperial March every time you hit the button on it. I do it repeatedly, but he surprisingly gets tired of it after a few times and puts it up out of reach so I can’t do it any more. I point at it and tell him, “My Star Wars?” but he just doesn’t go for it. Really, you just can’t go wrong with anything Star Wars. It’s all good.
WEE CEE: Duly noted.
BABY C: As far as convincing your parents to turn it on for you, I’m not sure how to advise you there. My entire family was already indoctrinated into the Star Wars cult before I was born. Perhaps you could explain the Force and lightsabers to them, because those things rock. When the lightsaber on the coin bank lights up that’s the bestest.
WEE CEE: Yeah, the only cult my parents are indoctrinated into is the yuppy cult of driving their Prius to the farmers market. Do you have any strategies for getting them to feed me this illustrious ketchup I’ve heard so much about? I am dying to get my hands in some, but my tantrum-throwing skills are not up to snuff just yet. A girl can only eat so many loaves of wheat germ.
BABY C: Well, I don’t much like ketchup myself. I’m more into cookies, chocolate milk, and potato chips.
WEE CEE: Potato chips? Are those anything like French fries? Because if they are, sign me up. My mom keeps feeding me potato salad like a putz but I will always remember that time she gave me fries at a restaurant. That may have been the most glorious moment of my life.
BABY C: They are kind of like fries, but much, much better. Really, all you have to do is just make an inordinate amount of noise and they will give you anything you want. Normally that works.
WEE CEE: I am more of a rigid bodier myself. I also enjoy going so redfaced that I look like a tomato with a wig on.
BABY C: That seems like a good strategy. If more drastic measures are required then move on to crying in addition to loud noise. The sight of tears along with the wailing usual gets me whatever I want, even after I’ve been told no multiple times. Throw yourself to the ground as a last resort if all else fails. If that doesn’t work nothing will.
WEE CEE: I’ve heard you have some older siblings. What’s that like? I have a giant stuffed lion so I suspect it’s a lot like that.
BABY C: I like it. They play with me and I have so much fun with them. I go into their room and wreck it, then they get in trouble for having a messy room. It’s great. I love them, though. They watch Star Wars and wrestle with me. And they argue about which one of them gets to feed me. It’s pretty awesome.
WEE CEE: Does your dad ever blog about your poops? My mother seems to think this is totally appropriate and normal behavior to tell the Internet masses about my decorum on the changing table. Ugh, gag me with a spoon. I have boundaries, woman.
BABY C: Hmmm…I don’t know. I can’t read. It seems like something he’d be embarrassed about, though. I just like the flashing logo on his blog. He laughs at me as I point out each letter and call it out by name. I’m not sure what’s so funny about it. He should be proud I can identify which letter is which.
WEE CEE: You are really smart! I like letters too. Especially the spongy ones in the bathtub. They are really good for chomping down on. I really don’t know what all this fuss about reading is about. I’ll just get my minions to read to me.
BABY C: I love the letters in the tub! I like to chew on them, too. Dad tells me to stop, but he’s all bark and no bite.
WEE CEE: Isn’t that the way they all are? They just like to pretend they’re in charge. My mom doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to make me pizza for dinner, and then we’re going to watch the Julia Child video on YouTube 56,381 times.
On that note, see you at the next Illuminati meeting?
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