Babies, Infants, Toddlers, and Children

ba·by   /ˈbeɪbi/
[bey-bee] –noun
1. an infant or very young child.
2. a newborn or very young animal.

in·fant   /ˈɪnfənt/
[in-fuhnt] –noun
1. a child during the earliest period of its life, especially before he or she can walk; baby.

toddler (ˈtɒdlə)
— noun
1. a young child, usually one between the ages of one and two and a half

child   /tʃaɪld/
[chahyld] –noun

1. a person between birth and full growth; a boy or girl: books for children.
2. a son or daughter: All my children are married.
3. a baby or infant.
4. a human fetus.
5. a childish person: He's such a child about money.
6. a descendant: a child of an ancient breed.
7. any person or thing regarded as the product or result of particular agencies, influences, etc.: Abstract art is a child of the 20th century.

I like children. I would say I love them. (Well, let's be honest, I love most of them.) I love spending time with children between the ages of 2.5 and 42.5. I like talking to them and figuring out how they think. I like learning new things with them. I like watching them grow. I like playing sports with them. I see children as little humans. I like them.

Babies, infants, and toddlers on the other hand... I do not know what to do with. After 4 months, when they have moved beyond the cute cuddley stage, I just don't get them. They can't talk. They drool a lot. And poop. And cry. You can't rationalize with them. You can't teach them about the meaning of life. Heck, they can't even sit up on their own for awhile. I really do love children, but I truly don't get babies.

Sorry, Maebel (my forthcoming niece). My visits might be short until you hit 2.5 and can start chatting me up and eating steak at the dinner table.

Your mom sure knew how to communicate. Check out that picture. Yikes!

Van's Burger (But more importantly, the corn dog)

It is Sunday morning. It is raining outside. Yesterday, I wanted to go to Van's Burger for a corn dog and a milkshake. (For those of you who have never been to Van's, it is like eating bliss on a stick or a bun, depending on whether you go for the hand dipped corn dogs or the never frozen hamburgers.) Van's has weird hours. And they are only open seasonally. I didn't have time to go yesterday, because I had an afternoon trunk show, but I was pretty confident they were open on Sundays, and I would be able to get my hand dipped corn dog and fresh hot fudge banana shake fix on the sabbath.

I have been drooling about it since last night. We went to a fun auction with mediocre food. I drooled about it then. I came home and had a fig newton and a chai. I drooled about it then. And I woke up this morning wondering if I could forego breakfast so I could add the tater tots to my corn dog/milkshake "breakfast" order.

6 Par Farmer was so kind to set up my wireless internet yesterday. (I am a tech idiot.) So I decided I would grab the laptop and check Van's hours to see what time I needed to arrive to be the first in line to get my delicious "breakfast." Van's is closing for the winter next week and we are heading to Scottsdale, so this is my very last opportunity to enjoy this unbelievable, calorie laden delight. So, I get on the computer, but as per usual, I have to look at Rue La La, Gilt Groupe, Ideeli, Facebook, and Gmail before I can possibly do anything else. (I figure I have time, because the earliest I can imagine Van's Burger being open is 10:30.)

I finally logged on to check Van's hours. And a bomb is dropped. Not like a little cherry bomb. We are talking Hiroshima up in here. Van's is not open on Sunday. WTF! No corn dog? No hand dipped shake? No tater tots? I almost started to cry. Then my lovely boyfriend, 6 Par Farmer informed me that the burger he had yesterday at Van's (insert profanity) was quite delicious. They put just the right amount of special sauce and it was cooked to perfection. I quickly looked for a blunt object.

So to the millions of people who read my blog religiously everyday, you now know, Van's is not open on Sundays. I hope I can prevent you from feeling the same earth shattering disappointment I felt on this rainy Sunday. You also know, 6 Par Farmer has no heart. (6 Par Farmer says he does have a heart, he just likes burgers. Mmmm.) I will be eating something with much fewer calories this morning. It will be much less satisfying. Next year Van's corn dog. Next year.

http://www.vansburger.com