Welcome to my Oscar night live blog! Here’s how this works: I’ll be adding a running commentary to the top of this post every 5-15 minutes, so just hit refresh to update. This message will stay at the top. If you’re just joining us and want to start at the beginning, please scroll all the way down. Thanks for stopping!

10:59 And, taking home its sixth Oscar tonight, The Hurt Locker wins best picture. I am embarrassed to say I haven’t seen this movie yet, but the blu-ray is sitting next to my television right now. I might just put it in right now, while I’m caught up in the spirit of the awards. Thanks for tuning in, everyone, and have a great night!

10:55 YES! Kathryn Bigelow wins Best Director! It’s the first win for a woman in the history of the Academy Awards, and the best “Suck it, ex-husband” I’ve ever seen. Congratulations!

10:51 Okay, I take it back. Sandra Bullock’s speech made me cry a little. I changed my mind; she can have whatever award she wants. I just want her to be my best friend.

10:48 I wasn’t a big fan of Precious, but I definitely think Gabby Sidhe deserves to win…but, wait! It’s Sandra Bullock! Well, good for her, too, I guess, though I may object when I finally do see The Blind Side.

10:44 It’s the co-star intros for the Best Actress nominations, and all of these speeches are beautifully written. I always wonder how much the presenters contributed, if anything, to introductions, but in this case there’s a personal touch that has ‘personal involvement’ written all over it. Good for them, and I’m pleased that they found a new way to make these nominations more meaningful. At least up until Stanley Tucci, who once again pokes some fun at Meryl Streep.

10:40 Holy crap! Forest Whittaker has lost like a hundred pounds!

10:31 Jeff Bridges wins, first win after five nominations. To no one’s surprise, Bridges is the only person of the night to work the word “groovy” into his acceptance speech.

10:25 Okay, what is this crazy grouping of actors on stage? For a second I thought they were pulling all the Best Actress nominees onstage for the award, a la Miss America. But nope, they’re having co-stars introduce each of the Best Actor nominees. Aw, Jeff Bridges is welling up! Okay, I’m cool with this.

10:23 I’m intrigued by the Oscar-oriented commercials. There was just one for the show “V” with the evil alien, and earlier Jimmy Kimmel was in bed with Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck. (Sidebar: Ben Affleck will sleep with anybody.)

10:07 Its a pretty close race, but I think the awards are leaning towards Hurt Locker over Avatar. Even though James Cameron’s technical accomplishments were unparalleled, I find myself really hoping Kathryn Bigelow wins Best Director over her ex-husband. Because what ‘first wife’ doesn’t want to crush the King of the World?”

10:06New award: Best Use of a Snuggie!

10:03 Every single nominee for Best Documentary is terrifying to me. This is perhaps why I do not watch many documentaries. Wait- why is Fisher Stevens here? Go back to Hackers, Stevens!

9:55 Avatar wins Best Visual Effects. I almost fall off my chair from the huge surprise.

9:53 So far my favorite speeches of the night are from the Art Direction guy, and the guy who won Best Score for Up. He had a great bit about how the arts aren’t a waste of time, that was actually very articulate and sweet. And also, somehow, short.

9:47 Just when you think everything’s going really well, they stop everything for the interpretive dance portion of the evening. I’m as down with art as the next girl, but it’s hard to take any dance seriously when the performers look like they just escaped out of “You Got Served.”

9:26 Anna Kendrick’s dress is gorgeous, too. Aaaaaand…Avatar loses sound mixing award. Hooray for its failure!

9:24 I’m loving the little clip about how sound mixing works, narrated by uber-narrator Morgan Freeman. I so long to be the “engineer” who gets to go around smashing windows and firing guns after filming is over, just to get the right sound effects. Best. Job. Ever.

9:19 It’s time for another Good Idea/Bad Idea. Good idea: doing a tribute to horror movies, a ridiculously under-appreciated genre. Bad idea: Having the tribute introduced by actors from Twilight. Come on, people. If there was ever a time to use Jack Nicholson. Or Mia Farrow. Or George Romero. Hell, I’d take Gary Oldman from “Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” Whoa - and they cut to Twilight in the montage?! I call bullshit!

9:18 Yes! Paranormal Activity Spoof!

9:08: Quote from husband: “I wonder if James Cameron developed the technology to keep that guy alive.”

9:07 Yep, it’s Avatar. A chill of foreboding runs up my spine. I liked Avatar, and it certainly deserves every single technical award, but I just can’t get behind it for Best Picture. Hmm, the Art Director winner is making a very heart-felt speech, about how doctors once told him he wouldn’t survive an illness. Please don’t cut him off, please don’t cut him off…

9:06 Okay, here we go, the first category where Avatar is nominated: Art Direction…

8:55: Incidentally, I missed the red carpet show, so I’m just getting to my fashion judgments now. So far Penelope Cruz and Queen Latifah are my favorites. Also, the Oscars inevitably make me want to see a movie or two that I had otherwise kind of ignored. So far I’m very into seeing Crazy Heart and Nine.

8:52 Holy crap, we’re already almost an hour and a half in. Usually by this point there’s a front-runner, a movie that’s winning almost every award in which it’s nominated. So far, though, the winners seem pretty scattered among a whole bunch of films. Of course, I don’t think they’ve presented any categories in which Avatar is competing.

8:44 Okay, it’s rare that a movie comes and goes completely under my radar, but I’d never heard of “A Serious Man” until it come out on DVD and I had to shelve it. In my defense, I don’t recognize a single actor in the film except for one of the geeks from The Big Bang Theory. But really, what is this movie about?

8:35 Of course, just because this is a huge deal for them doesn’t mean the music people won’t cut them the hell off. First speech cut short of the night.

8:34 This is sort of the first ‘boring’ part of the ceremony, where they start with filler awards like Best Documentary short subject and best short, things that most people don’t care about. But you know, Meryl Streep will always be nominated for another Oscar. This whole night can’t be all that big of a deal for her. But for these people who win these smaller awards, this might be the best night of their lives. They’re not famous, or glamorous, they’re basically like anybody else. Every one of them is going to go home in a daze tonight, and call everyone they know. That’s kind of amazing.

8:33 Another quote from my husband: “French people are funny! They talk weird!”

8:28 Quote from my husband: “That’s not what Carey Mulligan was wearing earlier!”

8:19 With all the significant Hollywood figures who died this year, I find it interesting that they singled out John Hughes for a special memorial. Also, it’s very impressive of the editors to fit this much angst in only a few minutes.

8:06 Committing to doing this live means that I have to suffer through commercial breaks, just like normal people. Ugh. Although now I can pee…

8:04 Jeff Bridges has a lion’s mane. A lion’s mane, people.

8:00 Okay, the director of UP, which predictably won Best Animated Movie, thanked his wife and family and told them, “You are the greatest adventure.” A very human, very sweet moment in a show that always seems to meticulously staged.

7:57 Wait, what the hell is The Secret of Kells?

7:50 Okay, using Ryan Reynolds to solemnly introduce The Blind Side is just a waste of comedic talent. Unless, of course, he were to remove his shirt. Sigh.

7:48 Christophe Waltz wins Best Supporting Actor. I remember sitting in the theater watching Inglourious Basterds thinking “This guy’s gonna get nominated,” and I was RIGHT. Of course, I think that all the time, but still. Really, this is a victory for me.

7:43 Although if Alec Baldwin doesn’t stop breaking into that weird half-assed British accent, I’m writing someone an angry letter.

7:35 I was a little uncertain about having Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin as co-hosts, but they have great charisma in their opening act. “Look, there’s that damn Helen Mirren.” And they seem to be spending a lot of time taunting Meryl Streep, which is sort of refreshing.

7:31 What IS the moment we’ve all been rating for? Oh, Neil Patrick Harris. Well that makes sense.

7:29 PM: My coverage is delayed when I have to pause the DVR so I can change the baby’s poopy diaper. It’s nice to start the night off with some glamour.

For years now, I’ve been complaining about the Oscars. That there’s too much focus on outfits and not enough on achievement. That the only people who win are the ones who paid for the biggest ad campaigns in the Hollywood trade papers. That the entire system seems bloated and a little corrupt.

In fact, when I was a senior in college I wrote a paper called How to Fix the Oscars. I had my own ideas, but the basic argument was that change is needed. And this year, for the first time in years and years, they have actually made some changes. (I’m sure it’s because of me). So I’ve decided to give the Academy Awards another shot - not only will I be watching Sunday night, but I’m planning to do my first-ever live-blog of the ceremony. So please come to my website, www.melissaolson.net/blog, and check out what’s happening. Comments are encouraged, too, as long as they’re complimentary and agreeable. Just kidding. Mostly.

So tonight I watched the premiere of Parenthood, possibly NBC’s most publicized show of all time. When they first started showing ads back in December, I re-watched the original 80’s movie with Steve Martin, and something bothered me about it. After watching this surprisingly faithful remake, I finally realized what it is. The show is called Parenthood, which is nice and short, but it should really be called “Everything You Might Possibly Be Afraid of, Happening to People Like You.”

Seriously, I worry about all kinds of stuff with Mattie, including big picture, long-term stuff. I thought I had most of it covered, at least for now. But after watching one little episode of this show, here are the things I am now also terrified of:

1. That when she’s a teenager, I’ll realize I screwed her up and it’s too late.
2. That Tyler and I will split up, I’ll have to date again, and I’ll realize I’m a failure in every way.
3. That Mattie will have Asberger’s.
4. That Mattie will be a terrible influence on her cousins and siblings, and I’ll get blamed.
5. That Mattie will love Tyler way better than me.
6. That Tyler will get overly invested in Mattie’s activities and Hulk out over little things.
7. That I will get overly invested in Mattie’s activities and Hulk out over little things.
8. That my every moment will live and die on Mattie’s successes and failures.

Folks, this is after one episode. One. And part of me’s like: I should never watching this again, it’s terrifying. But at the same time, I’ve just gotta be prepared, right? Maybe I should be taking notes.

I am being punished. And I deserve it.

As I write this, It’s 12:45 AM, and Mattie is screaming her one-year-old lungs out in fury in her new room. The baby’s sleep habits had pretty much stabilized of late, but ever since we moved her into her own bedroom, all the old problems have returned. She just doesn’t want to sleep unless she’s being held, and the separation anxiety that is an annoyance during the day turns into full-blown hysterical rages at bedtime. It’s awful.

If it’s at all possible to get her to sleep with a bottle or snuggling we do it, and then try to slip her into her bed without waking her (something Tyler pulls off about ten times more often than I do). But it just doesn’t always work, and I can’t let her stay up all night; she needs a bedtime. I know that intellectually, but it’s awful to sit here and listen to her scream for me. Tonight, unfortunately, she’s also going for a double feature: Mattie screamed when I finally made her go to bed at 11 (!), finally falling asleep about 40 minutes later. I was lazing around a little, and when I got up to go to bed at 12:30, I snuck into her room to check on her first. And her entire bedroom reeked - Mattie had pooped in her sleep, something that hasn’t happened in more than six months. I had no choice but to wake her up for a new diaper, and now we’re doing round 2 of the How Could You Betray Me Mom show.

Of course, I don’t have to listen to this. I could put on headphones or go in the bedroom or even turn on the TV. But that would make me feel even worse. In some backwards way, it only seems fair that if she has to suffer, I should suffer, too. I’m beginning to identify this thought as Mom Logic.

The more I think about it, Mom Logic pervades a lot of my life. It’s the kind of thinking you need to pack the diaper bag, to figure out the choreography of standing up from seated position with sleeping baby, or to plot car trips around, not traffic or weather, but nap schedules. Mom Logic isn’t instantaneous - you have to work at it - but I’ve built up a Mom Logic radar now, and it’s telling me that if I make the baby scream, I should at least have to listen to it. Stupid Mom Logic.

I haven’t had much to blog about lately because…well…things are good.

I do try not to use this blog for whining about my life, but any English teacher will tell you there’s no story without conflict, and our conflicts have been dimming lately. Mattie’s in her new room, which has been an improvement for everyone. Our financial situation has (FINALLY) stabilized a bit. I even got to buy brand-new gym shoes today (the old ones were literally glued together. With glue.). Tyler and I are doing well, marriage-wise, and best of all: we’re both really working hard to be healthier.

To be completely honest, I wasn’t sure Tyler could do this. He’s always told me about his days of working out constantly, eating a 2,000 calorie diet, but I’ve also seen this guy put away 1.5 pounds of spaghetti and look around for meatballs. But he’s doing so well - paying attention to portion sizes, cutting out most of the crap, and working out 3-5 times a week. It’s amazing how little things like that can totally change the lives of the whole family: Tyler’s happier and has more energy, so we’ve been happier together. He works out, so I work out. Mattie gets to go socialize at the gym with what Tyler calls “the workout kids.” Overall, I think there’s just been this lift lately, in our moods, our attitudes, and, as disgustingly corny as this is, our plans for the future. We’re talking about three years down the road, and it’s looking good.

If only I could just sell my danged book. There’s good news on that front, too, though: yesterday I received an email from an agent who read my query letter and is interested in reading the first chapter of “Lena’s Latest Issue.” While that’s a long, long way from seeing my book in a bookstore, it’s a necessary (tiny) step forward.

So, no complaints at all today. I’m just taking a moment to be grateful and glad for what I have. Enjoy a great weekend, everyone, and look forward to more whining again soon.

Thanks to Tyler’s crazy work discount, we are finally able to afford my dream television setup: dish network with HD, TiVo, and, best of all, HBO and Showtime. I’ve wanted to have those two pay channels for years and years, being addicted to any number of original shows that you can only see there. The pay networks are very crafty about their shows: it takes ages and ages for shows like True Blood and Dexter to appear on DVD, or even iTunes. If you don’t do illegal downloading (and I’m just not smart enough to get away with it, so I don’t), then you maybe have to wait nearly a year to get caught up. Or you can just pay to watch it when it airs. But if you watch multiple shows, you pretty much have to pay for the channels year-round, because a season of say, Big Love will only air once. Well played, HBO.

Anyway, most of my favorite pay shows are on hiatus right now (WHEN are you airing, Weeds?), but I have been able to get mostly caught up on this season of Big Love. Big Love, like the Sopranos and Entourage, is a glimpse into this whole little world, this sub-society we don’t really understand. In this case, it’s polygamists in Utah. There’s basically two versions of polygamy on “Big Love” - the normalized suburban polygamy, which is sort of relatable, and the scary compound version, which is like all the horror stories you see in the news. “Is this real?” “Are there really people who live like this?” “That can’t actually be happening, right?” These are the questions of Big Love. I’m addicted to the show, but it also kind of horrifies me. It’s like watching a Victorian Age movie where the women all wear miles of clothing, can’t vote, and are considered whores if they so much as bare a knee. Whenever I think of those times I feel lucky to live in the here and now. The difference is, though, that Big Love is set in modern times. Terrifying. Obviously the show is dramatized fiction, but I have to wonder how close to the truth it gets. It can’t be that close, right? Right?

As you know, if you follow this post, I had a cold, like, two weeks ago. I did some whining then, so when I got a cold again (!) last weekend I decided I was going to be all hardcore about it. Like, no big deal, I can still do everything. This cold means nothing to me.

The cold, sensing my disdain, decided to strike back. Instead of getting better, it has taken the bold step of becoming worse. Two days ago a cough appeared, and yesterday I started having trouble swallowing. Today my voice shattered, causing me to talk in whispers, if at all. In the words of the great philosophers, wtf?

While I certainly admire this cold’s tenacity and willingness to take it to the next level, I am not impressed with the downsides to all this: being unable to communicate, paying a fortune in Kleenex bills (I have to have the ones with lotion. There are a few things in life for which you should always get the best, whatever the cost: Kleenex, health insurance, car seats, and mechanical pencils being only a few.), having to do shots of Nyquil, santizing my hands every 15 minutes, and so on. I have come to the conclusion that I am ready to be done with this.

What I don’t understand is why my cold - if indeed it is a cold - continues to escalate. What’s next, nosebleeds? My ears fall off? What? Unfortunately it is Friday night, and the only way I’m going to figure it out in the next two days is by going in to Urgent Care.

I hate Urgent Care. It’s not the waiting - I always bring a book, and I’ve come to accept that I may be there for two hours without talking to another person. It’s the germ exposure. I don’t mean to be biased, but everyone at Urgent Care is just so…sick. Some of them wear masks, but some don’t, and we’re all breathing the same air, and it’s all just kind of icky.

More immediately, there’s also the cost. Our health insurance costs us $50 to go to Urgent Care. So now my question to myself is, “I know I’m sick, but am I $50 sick?” The truth is, of course I am, but I’m too stubborn to voluntarily admit it. It’s like when people don’t want to waste their sick days when they’re actually sick - think of all the things I could do with that $50! The possibilities are glorious! Why would I want to pay that much to sit in a germ factory for two hours? Argh!

Okay, I know I’m being childish. And frankly, the fact that I can’t breathe well is really starting to seal the deal for me. I keep doing these pathetic half-coughs, because it now hurts too much to do a regular all-out cough, and my voice is so trashed it’s become comical. It’s probably time to go to the doctor. Blurg.

I love LA.

There’s this old movie that we watched in one of my film classes, I forgot the name, but there was a line like “the hardest thing about Los Angeles is forgiving yourself for loving it.” And that’s how I feel. I know the town is superficial and spread-out and morally backwards and kind of warped, but I love it anyway. I love the food, and the movie theaters, and all the different little pockets of glamour and suburbs and beach, all mixed together in this one little county. Two years ago Tyler and I went on a trip to LA so I could show him all my old haunts, and it was wonderful (sort of “Melissa’s Culinary Tour of Los Angeles"). We were busy every second. Now, though, I’m trying to plan a trip back to LA (long story, but I have a free plane ticket for just me and Mattie)- only this time, I’m without Tyler and WITH Mattie.

In a very short amount of time, I’ve learned that planning a trip to LA with a little kid is a whole different prospect than planning with an adult. My two favorite things to do in LA are going to the exquisite movie theaters and getting great dinners, and both of those are hard, if not impossible, with a baby. Mattie does not like sitting through movies when the theater is having a special baby-friendly screening, much less when babies aren’t exactly welcome. She’ll sometimes sit through a dinner out, but not if she’s too tired or crabby. What else do I like to do in LA? Bonfire at the beach? Nope. The words “fire” and “baby” don’t mix well, and I’m afraid she’d try to eat her weight in sand. Shopping? No money. Comedy club? Obviously not.

Hmm.

The thought HAS crossed my mind to go by myself, but even if we could afford the childcare, I’d hate for Mattie to miss out, and I want her to get to see her aunt Beth, who lives in California, and her godmother Tracy, who’s in LA., and meet my LA friends. But where does that leave me? Honestly, the only thing I can definitively think of to do would be to go to Disneyland. Mattie’s a little young to really enjoy the full brunt of it, but that is still something we can do. But that’s like half a day. What about the other four days we’re there?

It’s an interesting question, and one I’ll have to give more thought to. I was a babysitter in LA, but I still have a hard time combining my sense of the city with my understanding of children. You’d think that in a year or so of taking care of LA kids, I’d have given some thought to kids in LA. But nope, you’d be wrong.

Here’s what’s interesting about “The Wolfman": it’s not really that interesting at all. But it isn’t really bad, either.

Tonight after much, much work Tyler and I found a sitter and had to choose between three movies I was interested in: Percy Jackson, Valentine’s Day, and Wolfman. Since we weren’t really leaning towards any particular one, I decided to just trust in the Review Gods over at Entertainment Weekly, who gave Percy a C, Wolfman a B, and Valentine’s Day an F (!).

The thing is, “Wolfman” was clearly made as an homage to the old Universal movies of the 50’s and 60’s, like the original “Wolfman.” It was like someone wanted to make a movie that, minus the modern gore, could have been released into theaters in 1966 and been successful. And in that respect, “Wolfman” is a triumph of filmmaking. Solid writing, solid acting, solid action. The problem is that nobody wants to see movies from the 1960’s anymore, because good or bad, our attention spans are all shot. That’s why, you know, we remake movies to begin with.

So I’m a little annoyed that we spent our one movie night on a film that was, essentially, kind of boring, when we could have tried Percy Jackson instead (am I a bad person if I find the kid that plays Percy totally cute? Don’t answer that.). Boo on you, Benicio del Toro.

This morning Mattie woke up at 6, and she and I fell asleep on the couch together for two more hours. Later Tyler told me, “you two were so cute, you looked exactly alike. Not attractive, but definitely cute.”

So I sleep with my mouth open. I can’t help it.

This isn’t the first time that I’ve been told how Mattie resembles me. Both Tyler and I get the “she looks just like you!” comments in public places (conclusion: Tyler and I look alike. Is it mean that I find that insulting?). But lately I’ve been noticing other things, too, like the sleeping. And, horribly, the sitting.

Mattie sits the way I did when I was little, like kneeling but with your feet splayed out to either side. I used to sit like that all the time, and (probably) as a result, I have the knees of an 80-year-old arthritic man. My right knee alone has had three separate surgeries, the last of which involved actually breaking it, turning it, and screwing the pieces back together at a different angle. For obvious reasons, folks, the fact that Mattie is already sitting like that is extremely depressing.

Part of it is, of course, that I thought I had more time to worry about this kind of thing. From the moment I first entertained the thought of having kids, I’ve worried about the possible downside of genetics: that my kid would end up getting my migraines, or my clumsiness, my over-wide hips or horrible allergies. I forgot about my knees, but at any rate, I didn’t think any of this would be a problem for years to come yet. And the thing with my knees, it’s such an awful thing to pin on a kid. After everything my knees have been through, at the age of 26 I can’t run for more than about 50 feet, not ever, and unless there are serious medical breakthroughs I’ll never run again in my life. I’ve gotten used to the idea by now, but the though of Mattie ending up with these kind of problems is almost unbearable.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how we want to spare our kids from the things we can handle? In the grand scheme of things my health isn’t bad at all - all the problems I’ve got can be managed with little difficulty. ButI don’t want Mattie to have to take medicine every day to protect her from allergies, I don’t want her to ever have to suffer through a single migraine, and I certainly want her to be able to run and jump. (Granted, since she’s my kid I’ll doubt she’ll actually want to, but still, she should have the option.)

The thing is, though, there’s not much I can do about any of this except wait, and see what manifests. And to correct Mattie’s sitting positions.

Mattie’s first birthday started out quiet, and built to a big finish. She and I had our usual ‘us’ time this morning (confession: low on sleep, I caved in and breast-fed her a little. My bad.), and then Tyler got off work early to have lunch with us at Culver’s, where Mattie got her own kids’ meal. Then I went to the grocery store, Tyler took her home, and there was much cleaning and baking (me) and some napping (Tyler and Mattie) and decorating (our friends Dennis and Erin). Then at 6:00 Mattie’s first-ever birthday party began.

I’ll have some pictures up soon, but I thought the party went really well. We hit all the main points, anyway: food, Mattie face-diving into her own piece of cake, pictures of Mattie covered in chocolate, presents, card games, kids’ movies. Next year Mattie will probably have friends of her own to invite, but this year it was mostly her ‘adult’ friends, but it was so wonderful to see everyone. There’s just something really powerful about a big room full of people who love the same person. How cool is that?

Anyway, of course today had me thinking about the last 365 days. A full year of Mattie. Everyone always says “oh, it goes by so fast,” but that definitely has not been my experience. I am not so old that a year doesn’t seem like a huge chunk of time to me, and I spend every weekday alone with the baby. I fully experience every one of those days, and just how long they can be. In fact, for me it’s more like I can hardly remember a time before Mattie. I remember being pregnant, and I remember when she was born, but what did I do before all of that? Seriously, how did I fill all those hours and hours of free time? It amazes me.

I must say, though, that at the same time it’s still fascinating that I have a baby. That she’s mine. It’s still very exciting to pick her up and hold her and know that she belongs to me, to us. I was re-reading the blog I wrote after Mattie was first born, and I still have that sense of wonder about Mattie. I’m beginning to suspect that it won’t ever go away.

So, tonight I’m signing off of the first year of Mattie’s life. May there be many, many more great years to come.

Ladies and gentleman, we are done with breastfeeding.

I know what you’re thinking - another post about her friggin’ boobs? But seriously, you have no idea how exciting it is to have my body 100% to myself again. Things I can do now that I’m no longer nursing:

1. Not worry about getting overly emotional and making my breasts weak
2. Not have to pump when I get home from work at 12:30 AM
3. Sleep for 8 straight hours without being woken by my chest
4. Go in hot tubs
5. Make Tyler take the baby more (He can’t use the excuse that I’m the only one who can feed her)
6. Wear normal bras (Now…with underwire!!)
7. Not worry about getting bit
8. Comfortably wear seat belts.

It’s so awesome. I thought I was going to miss the cuddling aspect of breastfeeding, but it turns out we cuddle just fine with my top on. The problem now, though, is that when you stop breastfeeding, you don’t stop feeding. Now I have to start figuring out actual, honest-to-goodness nutrition for Mattie, and it’s a complicated endeavor. I’ve been reading up, and as it turns out I’ve already kind of blew it - you’re supposed to feed babies vegetables the second they start solids, so they get a taste for it, and I didn’t do that. Mattie hates vegetables. She came out of the womb hating vegetables. And I don’t really know how to change that - if I try to feed her peas or green beans or carrots, she bats the spoon away. If I trick her and get it in her mouth, she goes ‘blah’ and drools it down her chin. Not cool. Seriously, people: how did I mess this up already?

So, now I’m spending a lot of my time worrying about the idea of ‘complete’ nutrition, or making sure Mattie has a variety of foods each day. Right now we’re still kind of using baby cereal as the all-purpose food because you mix nutrition-providing formula into it, but when she turns one Mattie doesn’t even need the formula anymore. So how am I supposed to make sure she’s getting enough fiber and protein? How do I get her to like vegetables? If she got sick when I ate dairy, should she be eating dairy? Do I do like three squares a day, and what about snacks? Ugh. I’m happy to be free, but I gotta say, this was all a lot easier when all I had to do was pop my shirt off.

Okay, here’s the thing about Tron: it’s the dumbest movie I’ve ever had to work so hard to understand.

When I rented the movie, I really didn’t know much about it - to be honest, most of the reason I got it was because I love “Chuck,” and Chuck loves Tron. I had a vague sense that it was about computers, and I’d seen the preview for the new film, and that was about it. But if you’ve never seen it, Tron is the story of Flynn (Jeff Bridges, looking impossibly young), a computer programmer whose work on cutting-edge video games was stolen by an evil other programmer. The bad guy got promotions, and Flynn got ousted. Now he owns his own video game arcade (this is back when arcades were huge), playing the games he designed and never got credit for. His ex-girlfriend at the old company is working on this laser, and blah blah blah the laser magically transports Flynn INTO the main system at the old company. Flynn becomes one of the Programs, a race of beings who are dominated by the Master Control Program, which pits them against each other, gladiator-style.

Did you get all that? In a nutshell, the computer programs are people, they all have little lives inside the world of computers, and the Master Control Program is the evil dictator. Or, in other words, it’s like The Wizard of Oz if Dorothy went into a computer game instead of Oz.

The thing that made my brain hurt, though, wasn’t the now-ancient looking graphics or preposterous computer animation (everyone goes on and on about how Tron was cutting edge at the time so we should all respect it. I say respect is fine but does not a good movie make), but trying to hold all the metaphors in my head. It’s like this big equation: program equals people. Master Control Program equals evil dictator. Ex-girlfriend equals laser program. Ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend equals security program, Tron. If that wasn’t enough, the filmmakers decided to add on a exhaustingly thought-provoking subtext. Within the world of the computer, the programs (which are like people, remember) believe that they are being watched and protected by Users. It’s religion, people. In case you don’t get it right away, they toss in the word “religion” whenever possible to help you keep up.

If this all seems like an awful lot to keep in your head at once, well, welcome to my world. Tron is one of those films that’s got a smug sense of its own cutting-edge timeliness, which is sort of sad and funny now that it’s so. Incredibly. Dated. On the one hand, it’s kind of boring to watch, given that the graphics could now be made on my laptop. By Max. On the other hand, now that the effects are all bullshit, we all have a lot more time to notice the plot and heavy-handed metaphors, which may or may not give you a wicked headache. I now feel kind of a weird, misplaced fascination with Tron: I didn’t like it at all, and at the same time I’m now kind of fond of it.

In the last couple of days, I’ve watched not one, but TWO cheesy 80’s action flicks, the kind that, as time goes on, grow more and more hilarious. And folks, we’re laughing AT them, not with them. First, I watched Jaws: The Revenge on my parent’s movie channel (so, not edited, no commercials), and it was the funniest non-comedy I’ve seen in ages. I need to take a second to explain the plot here: the shark that keeps hunting people off the coast of Amity Island has returned, 15 years later, to hunt the remaining members of the Brody family. Now, let’s say, for a moment, that I’m wiling to buy into the idea that sharks can hunt specific people. Yes, this is obviously ridiculous, but movies come out with bullshit animal characteristics all the time, like that the T-rex couldn’t see movement (sorry to burst your bubble, people) or that gorillas evolved into crazy-ass human killers in the Congo. You can always make up a reason why an animal “mutated” or “evolved.” Watch, I’ll do it right now: A scientist has posited the theory that the shark’s sense of smell is so refined, that they can even track people over long distances and trace specific bloodlines. If dogs can smell some kinds of cancer (true!), this is also totally possible.

See? I just made that up, and it’s good enough to base an 80’s action movie on. But does this movie come up with even a half-ass reasoning behind the shark’s people-specific stalking? Noooooo. Still, let’s say for a moment that I’m willing to believe the shark can smell Brodys. I cannot accept that the shark keeps coming back to life. And that IS the theory, according to Ellen Brody. Did the shark have babies that wanted vengeance? Nope. Was the shark scientifically cloned, only to hunt down the people who killed its prototype? No again. The writers were too lazy to even come up with something as weak as that. It’s the same shark, folks. It managed to survive being blown apart from the inside not once, not twice, but three times, regenerate itself once again, and then go hunt down some Brodys. Awesome.

I also have to take a moment here to consider the possibility that the Brodys had it coming. Do you have any idea how many times someone in “Jaws: The Revenge” goes “They’re specifically trying to kill you and your family!” and then the other guy is like “Oh, no! I better go ahead and get in the water anyway!” Come on, people. Why haven’t you all moved to Kansas? Or Arizona? There are no sharks in Phoenix, I can assure you.

If that DID happen, though, I still have a plan for Jaws 6. The remaining members of the Brody family move to Phoenix, where the little girl from “The Revenge” grows up and becomes a teacher. One day she takes her third-grade class to the nearby aquarium, but little does she know that Jaws has gone undercover, allowing himself to be captured in the wild and shipped to this specific aquarium, just for the occasion. The granddaughter leans forward to look at the sharks, and Jaws SWIMS STRAIGHT INTO THE CLASS! AHHHH! Then the ghost of Roy Schneider shows up….actually, I probably shouldn’t reveal any more of my screenplay. Let’s just say it’s “in development.” It’ll be called “Jaws: Attack of the Aquarium!” WITH the exclamation point.

Hmm, it’s late now and I did want to write for a few minutes before bed. More on my second 80’s movie tomorrow.

I can feel it. Any day now, Mattie’s gonna walk. And talk. And go to college.

Okay, well, not the last part. But the other two, definitely. She’s just so…ready. She pulls herself up, she walks around the furniture, she walks with this lion walker. She babbles and babbles at us, looking as though she’s just got so much to say. What amazes me are the things that she learns that no one has taught her. For months now, she’s been all about pointing. She points at people when they come into the house, smiling like all get-out, and I swear no one taught her that. No one taught her to clap, either, but she loves it. How do babies do it? How do they just know to grab something and pull themselves up? We took Mattie to the Dells last weekend to play in the pool at the Wilderness, and the floor was rough, so she started crawling around in the water using her hands and feet, instead of knees. She’s a genius!

The thing that makes me crazy, though, is how she always wants to get into things that are potentially dangerous. The more mobile and active she becomes, the more focused she is on scissors, and tiny pieces of plastic, and cords. What’s with the cords? Our living room is cluttered with toys, interesting baby toys that sing and light up, but my daughter wants to roll around in cords. What is that?

I think every new mother promises herself that she’ll be different - that her house won’t be as messy, that her child won’t have so many toys all over or run around covered in food and diaper cream. I never really made that promise, but it’s still strange to me how much Mattie is like other babies, and not like other babies. She does these things that all babies learn, and I’m a mom like all moms are. There’s something in common there, which is kind of neat.

But seriously, what’s with the cords?