Maya does her first few laps on her new racetrack.

Maya does her first few laps on our new bed.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

After years of sleeping on a perfectly adequate mattress made from cardboard and stripclub fliers, we finally took the plunge and went plush. Our "Golden Dreamer" arrived today. Maya loves it. So will we. Hope your own mattresses are turned with obsessive regularity today. Rock on.

Old school sittin' and spinnin'. Michael Jordan-style (hence the tongue).

Old school sittin' and spinnin'. Michael Jordan-style (hence the tongue).
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Maya offers her opinion of fleece.

Maya offers her opinion of fleece.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

And on my mark...set your watches for withdrawal countdown...now

Holy moly - I've read few more immediately compelling recaps than that just posted on the NYTimes describing today's Senate Judiciary Committee. Expect. Massive. Conflict. The Dems plus Specter are going to put an end date on funding for Iraq six months out. Everyone crapped in their pants, apparently. Gather your thoughts after you read the recap.

Hope your own testimony isn't derailed by protesters today. Rock on.

This chicken tastes like a parenting lesson yet is oddly yummy...

Killer vignette on the Maya front this afternoon. Set the scene with me picking up Maya from the Lutherans in Ballard @ noon, as usual. The daycare center is a pretty standard churchy building of classrooms behind a contempo-bricko church. Everything around is residential. Save one place - Smokin' Pete's BBQ down the block and across the street. Maya and I've been there together a few times over the past months, and she's been a hit with folks when she's come strolling in before. Important to note: their ribs and chicken plates are crackin' good (my rating - usually a solid B but sometimes with a Plus, like today). Heavy as the recent Rush Limbaugh and often as merciless, though. The idea of heading there today for me was way down the list. Once we hit the sidewalk, Maya turns toward Smokin' Pete's in full babble. Forcing me to either cut bait and pick her up. Or let it run it's course. So we walked. I eventually tried to cut bait and head back to the car. But Maya would have none of it and presented a somewhat convincing case. In no time, we were inside Smokin' Pete's where she'd led me to the cooler for a "wa-wa" and then on to the deli counter where she'd identified the Mac 'n Cheese she's had twice from there. We debated, I caved and ordered a chicken plate to get the sides. We were at a table in no time - jackets off and Maya pleased as Hawaiian Punch way back when they made the stuff from real Hawaiians. We had some Mac 'n Cheese while we waited for the chicken and cornbread to go. Now mind you, I've introduced the hook - Maya's never heard anything prior this day about the cornbread from me or the hipster coolguy behind the counter. But she's had it before. Our food comes in a paper bag with all smiles and the whole spiel on all ends. I start prepping Maya for the exit. And just like a two-year-old, I thought, she got all uppiddy and wanted nothing to do with, um, getting up. She was mumbling something that sounded vaguely like Dubya's last State of the Union (my rating - F-plus), while I gathered our coats and foods and gawd knows what else arrayed around us like a schizophrenic banquet. By the time we'd crossed the street, it hit me. She was asking for "bre-bre" - her goo-goo-ish take on the universalized word for bread. I recalibrated. We saddled up on our hearty Volvo steed. Maya devoured the cornbread on the way home, washed down with loads of "wa-wa", then aced a bottle and passed out like Vince Vaughn at an open bar boat show. I'll see her in a few hours. When I do, I'll thank her for choosing our lunchspot on her own for the first time. My chicken is delicious.

Hope your own takeout is amazing today. Rock on.

So a rabbi, a Lutheran and a stem cell researcher approach me in a gay bar...

Big newziness from the Northwest - Big Foot has been found. Minus the big feet. Confused? Why do you hate our freedom.

Hope your own non sequiters make perfect sense today. Rock on.

Carl tries to reclaim the title from Karl

For my money, the best antedote to the lingering post-State o' the Union banter is the rim-rattling historical reference provided by Carl Bernstein. He really is an eloquent man when he chooses to be. The way he eviscerates Dubya in deference to Nixon is gold-standard interesting. A quick check is worth it many times over.

Hope your own break-ins are merely attempted today. Rock on.

Maya's First Brat Series - Temp/Greasiness Testing

Maya's First Brat Series - Temp/Greasiness Testing
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Out of blind, tasty allegiance to some sort of NFL Fans mantra, I made tasty brats and some necessary fixins yesterday for the Conference Champs gaming. Maya helped. Honestly. And even gave the links a try. She seemed happy-ish. Hope y'all were, too. Rock on.

Maya's First Brat Series - "Oddly enough, the mouthfeel is like that of a mushroom risotto."

Maya's First Brat Series - "Oddly enough, the mouthfeel is like that of a mushroom risotto."
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Maya's First Brat Series - Looking for more...

Maya's First Brat Series - Looking for more...
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Maya gets more done while still in her pajamas than most kids accomplish all day.

Maya gets more done while still in her pajamas than most kids accomplish all day.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Headin' elsewhere...

There doesn't even seem to be a point in addressing Dubya's plan for a so-called "surge" - some tragic mistakes just stand out glaringly enough on their own. And as the news over the weekend out of Iraq went from stunningly bad to even worse with the decapitation of Saddam's half-brother (boy, is that an unfortunate irony), I'm turning elsewhere. Most of the Press today will be focused on Obama's exploratory committee announcement. I'll instead offer up a few quickie reviews as this morning's Seattle snow turns to slush, taking with it so many unknown snowmen.

Sarah and I did a dinner and movie on Saturday. We chose "Children of Men" starring a terrific Clive Owen and a uniformly strong cast. It's cut from the same post-apocolyptic cloth as "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy (my choice as Best Novel of 2006) - lots of bleakness layered with enough hope to make it hugely entertaining. I was most struck by the masterful staging of the battle scenes. Not since "Full Metal Jacket" have I seen a movie that captured "war" in such a harrowing and chaotic way. But the allegorical aspects of the movie really set it apart. Alfonso Cuaron is one of those uber-cool Mexican auteurs. See it. My rating - an A-minus.

Dinner-wise, we went to Volterra in Ballard - a well-reviewed newish "contemporary Italian" place with a dark red interior that looks borrowed straight from the Playboy Mansion collection. We were pretty hearty and tried a wide enough array to say...bunk. Middling to at-best passable food, no original flair, perfunctory everything else. Order a pizza instead. My rating - a C-minus.

And I don't think I ever gave my take on "The Departed" which we saw a couple weeks ago. An instant crime classic. Jack Nicholson over-eats the scenery but he's Jack and no one can stop him now. Matt Damon isn't getting the accolades, but he carries the movie front to back. Claire Forlani looks like she's aged about 20 years since she was the Next New Mz. Thang back in the late 90s - her role is by far the most confused and inauthentic. Scorsese still can't write chicks, know what I mean. And it's overlong by about one-and-a-half extra plot twistees. But if you like noir and can take a few bloody, violent deaths, you need look no farther than this ride. My rating - a strong B-plus.

Hope your own thumbs are up all day. Rock on.

Maya surveys the renewed Seattle snowscape in her spiffy new jacket.

Maya surveys the renewed Seattle snowscape in her spiffy new jacket.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Thanks to Faye and Robert, Maya got a totally hip new puffy jacket just in time for a cold snap. All the better for snowy playtime. Hope you enjoy the weather as much as Maya does. Rock on.

"Take me ice fishing!"

"Take me ice fishing!"
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

Maya does her best to catch Beckham fever.

Maya does her best to catch Beckham fever.
Originally uploaded by emaggie.

A wee bit of the ultraviolence...

I suppose I shouldn't have insulted whatever balance of karma resides in the universe on Saturday with my last blog post before going to the Seattle Seahawks/Dallas Cowboys Wildcard playoff game. Jokingly, I mentioned the horridly escalating drunken swagger of the Seahawks' fans as I'd seen it at the Packers/Seahags Monday Night game at the end of November. But for this game I was lucky enough to have a Suite seat, thanks to the generosity of a friend (Russ, you da man). After a crazy, flipfloppin' game throughout, the Hags backed into a victory. I left the stadium and headed toward my bus. Then I got jumped. The details aren't important because nothing was broken or stolen or will even leave a long-lingering mark. Bummer, nonetheless. But when life gives you a bump on the head, I've always said make lemonade. So I've used this opportunity to explain boo-boos and owees to Maya. She seems unfazed and rather entertained.

But with that said, I want to assure everyone that my senses of humor and duty to inform remain fully intact. Hope your own wounds are healed by minimal therapy today. Rock on.

A sick kid's like a messy lawn - you'd hate to have a neighbor complain, but it's sure more convenient if you can get a professional in to deal...

After an amazing New Year mix of Holidaze and general days, we've been smacked clean in the middle of the forehead by the nature of parenting. A child. Inexplicably sick. Full of snot. And discontent. With the welcoming hug of so-so-many available surrogates gone, I was left to ponder this past Thursday and Friday - where have all those pretty flowers gone? Let me digress...

Maya awoke on New Year's morning with a cough that would have made even Bea Arthur uncomfortable. Phlegm. Or the Feared Flems. Whatever. No one can wear that raspy thing for long before the listener begins to question their own mortality. So we dealt. Probably pretty poorly. Mainly on my watch. But I'm still driven by the general pronouncement of "Maya's such a good girl" in all circumstances. Even though I think she might have compared me to the Lord of All That is Evil for not relieving her pain, we're now seeming like we're past the worst of it. Sorry that I don't have any especially cute coughing pics to offer. Now or ever.

Looks like we're headed into a crazy biggun week for Iraq policy posturing. In my opinion, we've all been willing to give Dubya all the leeway in the remaining free world with regard to his Sisyphus-like contemplation. But I foresee one major mistake emerging that I expect all my plagarists to soon echo - Dubya's reluctance to do his job allowed the newly empowered Dems to undercut him by advising that a troop increase is an admitted failure. Dubya's still pathologically stuck in the same mode that informs his arrogance. Call it his "I'm the Decider" Syndrome. Because as soon as you feel the need to tell people that's what you are...well, that role slips away like so many false dreams of a legacy. I fully expect any New Year hangover of pulled punches directed at Dubya to seem so utterly 2006. If you think you've seen an unpopular Prezidunt in your lifetime...well, just wait.

I got an especially friendly offer from a friend to go the Seattle Seahawks' Wildcard game versus the Dallas Cowboys this evening. I'll take my camera. And my keen eye for detail. And a shiv for the first Seahawks fan that asks me "Are You the 12th Man?" That sucker's goin' down. Hope your own encounters today lead to results that just may cover the spread. Rock on.