150 WHATS?

150 what?

150 days since I last posted? No! You might think so, but I actually posted on Monday!

150 days until the next time I post after this time? That’s possible!

150 words in this post? That’s unlikely.


150 lipsticks in these MUJI drawers that finally arrived that I will tell you all about in definitely less than 150 days because I’m in love with them and I’m convinced they’re the solution to my makeup being all over my Safety Bathroom counter (I had had it all nicely organized in the two ridiculously pathetic teeny tiny not actually even drawer-drawers in the counter itself, but I can’t work like that, I need to see everything, so within a couple of days of getting it all nicely stuffed away, it was all everywhere all over again, but now it WON’T BE because it’s in CLEAR DRAWERS, which are definitely the trend in the moderately-sized-makeup-collection world (with IKEA ALEX drawers obviously being the top choice in the mega-collection sector), but it’s a trend for a reason, because people with collections need to SEE THEIR STUFF, I am SAYING)? Anyway, no. There aren’t 150 of anything in there.

NO! None of that stuff.

ACTUALLY, Penelope is 150 weeks old today. I didn’t calculate that. You sign up for all these things when you’re first pregnant and they follow you forever.

So Penny is getting really close to three years old now, that’s next month, but I haven’t been updating too much recently, and I figured if I just suddenly sprang that on you, “HEY, PENELOPE IS THREE!,” you might be shocked at the passing of time or maybe might even have forgotten that I had a daughter in the glow of my MUJI drawers or maybe these new Sigma brushes I was finally pestilence-free enough to touch, but not yet enough to use, it seems the age of approaching-three carries with it deadly accuracy for coughing directly into my eyeballs and up my nostrils and also licking Cheetos before offering them to me as a snack:


Have not yet worked out a brush storage solution.

You can tell which brushes are my new ones because they’re the ones that look like I actually practice what I screech about regular brush washing. It’s okay. I’m excited about all the things I totally promised you I was going to post about, too. (I didn’t forget any of them: the skincare stuff I use, the foundation hunt I went on, the new brushes, the Hourglass powder, the Makeup Geek shadows, and some other stuff I’ve picked up here and there.) It’s totally understandable if you forgot all about Penny in the whirlwind of the entirely too much shopping I did in the start of the year. I left her in an elevator in my rush to Sephora once. That is not true. That’s why I’m easing you up to her birthday with this update on Penelope at 150 weeks old!


At 150 weeks old, Penelope is pretty average size. She’s not very big or very small. We think she’s huge, of course, but she’s not. Since she’s a former “failure to thrive” baby, though, she is always going to look like a giantess to me. I remember after we got her out of the hospital after that first time with the failure to thrive diagnosis (which was actually due to a whole other thing) and she was creeping up on 11 lbs as a 4.5 month old baby, I proudly said to her pediatrician who I really liked at the time, “Isn’t she HUGE?,” and the doctor says to me, “Oh, honey… no.”

ASIDE: When I’m King, probably the ninth or tenth order of business is going to be RENAMING THAT AWFUL “failure to thrive” PHRASE FOR THE LOVE OF SHIT, maybe to something like, “Parents Trying Their Very Very Hardest But Baby Not Making With Growth” or “Parents Obviously Working Asses Off at Trying to Be Parents, Child Already Showing Propensity for Not Going Along with Plans” or “PARENTS VERY CLEARLY GOOD PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING NO WRONG AND REALLY TRYING VERY HARD AND SOMEONE GET THE MOTHER A TISSUE AND A CHAIR AND EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE FINE WE WILL HANDLE THIS TOGETHER” syndrome.

Anyway, I don’t know exactly how big she is, but she’s almost three and she comfortably wears 3T clothing, so I guess about average. That seems about right to me. At her last well check, she was hovering right in the 40th percentiles for height and weight, but setting that aside, she looks good. All her bendy parts bend and her straight parts are straight. She does all the running and jumping with both feet, stacks things and kicks them, and does everything well enough that I haven’t even thought to glance at a milestone chart since she was just turning two, probably. No reason to even think about it. That’s been nice, considering Early Intervention was at our house at this point a couple of years ago. No need to even save that paperwork anymore.

I realize that none of what happened leading up to Penelope’s birth or what happened while I was in labor or right after her birth or her own health issues for her first two years are going to have any affect on her life going forward. Rationally, I know that. We completely closed the books on her kidney issues back in September – we don’t even have to go to the emergency room for a high fever anymore. Well, of course we do for a spectacularly high fever like anyone else would, but we used to have to – anyway, it was a thing. The last thing, and now we don’t have to do that, and I think now I for real really realize that EVERYTHING is done. Technically before now, but right now, at 150 weeks, done DONE. She’s here, full size, no heart issues, no breathing issues, no kidney issues, and just a scar left from surgery that even almost already totally faded away. And everything happened and resolved in just 150 weeks! That’s hardly any time at all (yes it is, it’s forever).


If you meet Penelope at 150 weeks, the first thing she will say to you, almost definitely, is “Wanna see my cool trick?” The cool trick is almost always putting her head on the ground and one leg in the air. Unless you’ve seen that one. If you’ve seen that one, the cool trick is totally improvised on the spot. I don’t know what it might be. She might throw something at you. Definitely ask her to show you the one with her leg in the air again, it’s the safest.

She really likes Toy Story (the first one and the second one, she might like the third one but I’ve banned it when I’m in the playroom because I think it’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense) and Monsters Inc. She also likes Handy Manny and Trotro. But her absolute favorite thing to do is to stream the iPad to the television (Phil and I don’t actually know how she does this – we know it can be done, it’s just that she takes the iPad and does it herself, we’ve never arranged this for her) and watch video after video of this woman unboxing and playing with various PlayDoh and Barbie toys. She somehow locates a playlist from the suggested videos on YouTube, sets it to go on the television, and then goes about her own normal playing in the playroom accompanied by videos of an adult playing on the television. Phil likes video games. I only watch Korean television. We’ve all got our things.


One of my very favorite things about Penelope right now is the way she talks. She’s a pretty decent talker, as I’ve mentioned before, but she has her mispronunciations like any toddler. And like any parent, I’m pretty attached to them and I’ll be sad to see them go. It’s not things like “emergery” for “emergency” that are my very favorite, though. No, these are the ones I’m working my hardest to mimic in order to preserve:

  • pooth taste
  • poilet taper
  • beep death

Of course when I go to write them down, I can’t think of more, but those are some of Pen’s most common types of mispronunciation. Other kinds don’t really stick around too long. She gets very frustrated when she doesn’t say a word correctly and will specifically request help, “I can’t say word, help me say word.” It’s kind of shitty, adorable toddler-speak is supposed to be part of the deal, but I’m hanging on to poilet taper as long as possible.

My other very favorite thing about her is that she is SO into whatever Phil and I are into. She wants to be with us and around us and do what we’re doing and make us laugh and make us happy and she mimics us and acts like us and does things that she thinks we’ll like. None of that is revolutionary or unique to Penny or something that I think my super special kid does that yours doesn’t. It’s just something that’s really great. She loves to sit with Phil and press the jump button while he plays video games. She says, “Mama, can we go in your Safety Bathroom and do makeup?” and it is the genuinely VERY BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED TO HER EVER when I say yes and I wonder why I don’t say yes more. Ugh, why don’t I say yes more? I should.


At 150 weeks old, Penelope does whatever the hell she wants. I mean, we tell her what to do, and she hears us, but then she doesn’t do it, or she keeps on not doing it, or keeps on doing what we told her to stop doing. Three is really soon, and Phil and I have turned to each other with slow motion horror face and realized three is not going to be any better than two, it’s actually louder and throwier and screamier and people in public can actually hear what she’s saying to us when she’s being kind of awful. And I know those of you with kids who have already gone from two to three are like, I knew it, or I told you so, or I wanted to tell you so, or I’m about to go to the comments because I actually want to tell you so some more, but look, we went through two and it was a challenge and you kind of think, it’s okay, three is coming, and it will be different, and I guess our minds didn’t really ALLOW us to think it might be different BAD, but you know what guys, I think it’s going to be different BAD.

Not bad like my CHILD is bad, because she’s not. SHE’S NOT. She’s fabulous. Look at these pictures. SAY POILET TAPER OUT LOUD. JUST ONE TIME. Penelope is fabulous. But toddlers, man. They will make your (my) shoulders curl down and then your (my) neck bend until your ears just settle right into the little shoulder cave you (I) made and just consider moving in there. Just move into the shoulder cave and live there. For a while. A long while.

Oh gosh. PENELOPE IS A HUNDRED AND FIFTY WEEKS OLD. Can you BELIEVE everything that has even happened? CAN YOU EVEN.

Here, ignore the rest of us in this picture.



20 thoughts on “150 WHATS?

  1. Lynnette

    But wait… What’s beep death?

    Also along with some low lows, three has the highest of highs.

    TJ Reply:

    That one is “deep breath.” As in, “I DON’T WANNA TAKE A BEEP DEATH, I WANT THE IPAD.”

    Actually, recent usage was when Phil stubbed his toe and she told him “Beep death, beep death.”

    Which is kind of an improvement, because a month or so ago, when I stubbed MY toe, she said, “Say ‘damnit,’ Mama.”

    Lynnette Reply:

    Ahhhhh beep death OMG!

    Tamara Reply:

    Facebook has me weirdly conditioned to want to like things and I want to like this comment. BEEP DEATH is the best (now that I know what it means).

  2. Sunshine

    150 weeks! I still laugh when I think about her delight over the ‘magic trash can.’ Penny very much reminds me of my (incredibly sassy and hilarious) daughter. But she is nearly 7 now which is much easier than 3. Though I have no idea how many weeks 7 years is. Besides a lot. It is a lot of weeks.

  3. Kara

    I would like to rename “Failure to Thrive” to “We know you’ve been reading those parenting boards, and we know they’ve been scaring you with all sorts of ridiculous stuff, but for the love of gods, give the kid a bottle and just CHILL OUT. YOU ARE NOT A BAD MOTHER IF YOU GIVE YOUR CHILD FORMULA.”

    Well, I guess I had more feels than expected about that, considering my FTT baby turns 11 (11!!) in April.

    Penny Rapunzel is the best thing EVER.

  4. Jenna

    Beep death is about the best thing I’ve ever heard. I need to work on saying yes more often, too. Half the time I don’t even know why I’m saying no. Parenting is weird, man.

  5. Linnea

    150?! I like hearing what Penny is up to & thinking about that little glimpse into my future. I mean, she’s anyways been my mental place holder baby, but she’s hardly a baby anymore. I maybe dream of an Eleanor & Penny play date. I’m constantly surprised that E wears the same size clothes as her age. Maybe because she wears more dresses than pants? I just pulled out all her 18m pants to make way for 2t. She turns 2 in 3 weeks. My brain can’t figure that out.

  6. rebecca

    Well, three can be interesting, but let me just say: four and five are utterly charming and magical. Something to look forward to!

  7. april

    I laughed out loud at “watch this cool trick” because Henry says the EXACT SAME THING and it’s hilarious. I don’t even know where he got it.

  8. K

    Three was when I realized that some of Ezra’s feelings were awfully big and loud, but, HEY!, I can still pick up like a briefcase and move you somewhere safe while you freak out.

  9. Tessie

    When my daughter was about this age, she said “case-suit” instead of “suitcase” and I think I will proooobably miss that until the day I die.

  10. Laura Diniwilk

    Beep death is killing me. Your kid is awesome, good work. I hope she hangs on to her sayings forever, since I’m not having luck with Lucy on that front. Adriana keeps correcting her, to the point that I quite possibly actually threatened to sew her lips shut if she told Lucy it’s W and not double Q.

    lol at the Alex 9 drawer comment. I might actually get one because the cheap drawers Justin got me for Christmas broke already and the kids can get to the linen closet too easily. And because youtube told me to.

  11. april

    I am as-I-type ordering these drawers, because I ordered something off Amazon and it was tiny. Not working. Back that goes.

  12. Sandra

    I miss the toddler speak. At 3 years old my oldest daughter said “God Damnit” in the most perfect context. We were proud and ashamed at the same time.
    I always wonder why no one tells you how bad the 3’s really are. Terrible two’s are bad, yes, but 3’s! Holy Moly. You reconsider your excitement and encouragment at wanting them to learn to talk. heh.
    Penny is adorable. Thank you for continuing to share her with us. :)

  13. Sky

    Let’s absolutely please start a movement to rename “failure to thrive”… After reading this, I can only recommend we call it “beep death” :P

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