Stranger Danger

Every new parent gets to enjoy the experience of discovering the wonderful world of children's music. It requires a very unique sacrifice to empty the CD changer in your car and reload it with such titles as Silly Songs, Sleepy Baby, and my favorite, Waterfall Sounds. I blame that one for increased pit stops on road trips.

But it seems like these songs exist in some sort of utopian vacuum where there is no crime and everybody plays nice and shares. I keep hearing songs with messages like, "Say 'Hi' to everyone you meet", or "Let's make new friends everyday", or "Santa wears a dirty trench coat".


Unless they have candy!

Now Harper's not nearly old enough to explore the world on her own yet, but eventually we'll have to try to teach her about strangers and not trusting everyone who smiles at her. A task made infinitely more difficult by the fact that her favorite song right now is, "Trust Everyone Who Smiles at You".

Plus we have to balance instilling a healthy sense of caution versus misanthropy. Currently, Harper is very gregarious and loves to meet new people. She has almost no stranger anxiety. That's actually something we really like about her. We want her to be able to connect with people quickly and foster friendships easily. But we also want her to know that every boy is bad. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Bad!!! Unless they're gay.

So I guess for now, we'll just have to keep an eye out and continue to play her favorite CDs. I just got a new one. It's called, Strangers are Your Future Friends.

Rehab is for Quitters

This is my new favorite picture of Harper Jo. In fact, it's now my desktop background. The beauty of it is not just in the circumstance (that she's reaching into a cooler for a bottle of wine) but in the timing. A split second before or after and we would've missed that perfect, dazed look: eyebrows raised, eyelids drooping ever so slightly. That "I'm really drunk but it's a holiday so I better keep drinking" face. In college, my friend Tyler wore that face so much, I think it's probably in the yearbook.

But somehow, it's her expressionless mouth that clinches it. There's not even the slightest hint of a smile. Just a pure debauched haze. That's what pulls the whole image together for me.

In her face, I see the following statement: "Huh? Oh, yeah. No, I'm okay. Just getting another bottle of hootch."