Mark of Fridays: Yum

Carrots are great!

Oatmeal is great!

Peaches are great!

Pears are great!

Applesauce is great!

Spinach is great!

Peas stink.

Milestones: It's about Time

Even when babies are still very small, they accomplish many "firsts" that parents never forget - little moments that remind Mom and Dad how fast they are growing up. All parents probably have similar memories of these Big Days.

There's the first time the baby stood up. (Mark hasn't done that yet.)

His first steps. (Not yet for Mark.)

His first tooth. (None for Mark yet.)

And his first words. (Exactly what have you been doing, Mark?)

Well, Wednesday was one of those Big Days for Lynne and Matt. That was day their little boy - not even 8 months old - received his very first piece of junk mail.

Yes, Time magazine would like Mark to know that for $20, he can receive a one-year subscription to this important magazine. That's a savings of $232.45! You can't afford not to subscribe!

This subscription to Time magazine will help Mark understand the latest developments in health and medicine ("Check out the latest advances in diaper rash creams!"), give him comprehensive coverage of world news and politics ("Why hasn't there been a infant president?") and serve up in-depth analysis of business trends that affect his personal finances ("Is your piggy bank reaching its earning potential?").

Of course, Lynne and Matt mailed in a check for 100 dollars, so the subscription would last at least until Mark can read.

But wait! There's more! Because he is a valued subscriber to Time, Mark has also been offered an Ultronic Laser Level. For free! What fun for a little boy!

With 10 feet of self-retracting measuring tape, Mark will always know how far away his bottle is! And with the latest in laser technology, you can be sure Mark's crib will never be out of balance. And the handy suction cups will be handy...for eating! It's the perfect gift for any baby who does moderate construction around the house. And it's free!

Thank you, Time magazine. Please put us on the list for your toddler encyclopedia collection.

Mark of Fridays: Happy Birthday Grandma Diane!

Or is that supposed to be: Happy Birthday, Nana! I can never remember.

Christmas, by m.e.hanley

The Christmas poem
by m.e.hanley

Christmas is a time of joy,
For every little girl and boy.
Giving everyone a present,
Always being pleasant.
Hoping that Santa comes,
Having over all my chums.
Musical notes fill the air,
Hope we don't get underwear.
Santa bringing presents in his sleigh,
That's what happens on Christmas Day.

Editor's note: Here is the final poem from a recently discovered early works of the little-respected poet and Diet Coke aficionado, m.e.hanley. This fifth poem focuses on Christmas. Again, the poet relies on uneven, almost nonsensical rhyming patterns to convey a sense of unbalance to the reader. It's as if the poet is forcing us to look again at our holidays to see if there is not something unsettling.
Using the ironic "joy" to open, the poet exposes the cynical underbelly of Christmas: the consumerism, the Socialist drive to give "everyone a present", the clanging musical notes that contribute to noise pollution.
Many experts focus in on the sixth line of the poem. Here, the main character is hanging around with his "chums." Is the poet referring to his male friends - an exclusive group of privileged male Ubermensch? Or is he referring to the the salmon native to the northern Pacific and adjacent waterways? Either way, the image is disturbing.
But it does not end there. In this poem, even gifts must meet rigid standards: no underwear allowed. And Santa brings presents not on Christmas Eve while children sleep, but on Christmas Day, undoubtedly to expose the fraud that has been wrought by our greed.

We hope you have enjoyed these poems that we were pained to present. Who knows what other literary treasures will be uncovered in the next three ring binder?

The seven-month Mark

Mark Hanley, at seven months

The measurements: 20.2 pounds, but short. (A little squatty, if you must know.)

Best friends: The order goes something like this: 1 - Mommy, 2 - Jack, 2a - Daddy

Enemies: Six month olds. They are so lame. Most of them can barely sit up. That's unlike me, who can sit on my own for like 10 minutes.

Most six month olds think it is awesome to hold a ball. I can hold a ball and throw it in the air.

Six month olds don't know about object permanence. I know you didn't make my toy disappear, you just won't give it to me.

Six month olds can't understand mirrors. I know they are windows to look at the weird baby who follows me everywhere.

Six month olds have never been to a restaurant, have never left the state of Illinois and have never gone swimming. I have done all of these things and I didn't even cry.

Most six month olds stare at ceiling fans. I also stare at ceiling fans, but I can stop any time I want.

Six months olds think they are so cool. But they are so uncool.

Just found out about: Pools. Holy cow. Have you heard about these things? They're great! I just got to float around in one in Florida and it was splashtastic. True, Mom covered me with so much sunscreen the water beaded up on me, but I still very much enjoyed the experience.
I'm not so sure about: This lady at the pool, who mentioned I was "a big one." Then, she added I "don't miss too many meals." Finally, she threw in that I'm "chunky guy." What's she saying?
Favorite activities: Traveling. When I was just a naive 6-month-old, I thought Illinois had everything. How embarrassing. Illinois is great, but there's lots of states out there! At least seven. Most six months olds wouldn't understand, but I know better. I've been to Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia and Florida. Yes, it's true that on our trip to see Aunt Laura, I didn't make it out of Will County before I filled my diaper but, hey, it happens.
I have a crush on: Setting world records. Now that I'm seven and know lots of stuff, I have set several Guinness standards. Among them: sitting for more than 10 minutes; largest naturally grown toe jam collection (more than six quarts, I believe); greatest accumulation of drool (also more than six quarts. Per day.).

Major accomplishments: Went swimming. Got to be the test baby in the psychology class at Mommy's school and I passed - I can continue being a baby. Taught Mark Buerhle how to do this. Giant toe jam ball.

Mark of Fridays: Play Ball!, part II *

To follow up on a previous post, the correct answer was:

Pumped for the White Sox,

Cautiously optimistic about the Cubs,

Emphatically resigned to the Mets,

Horrified by the Brewers...

...and thrilled about baseball!

* Editor's note: Hey, we already used that other picture!

The stranger, by m.e.hanley

Editor's note: We present the fourth of five poems from the recently uncovered collection of wholly despised poet, m.e.hanley. This poem - dubbed "the stranger" by scholars - is the shortest of hanley's poems. In many ways, it is also the most inaccessible.
Without a doubt this poem has sparked almost tens of debates among experts. What does the hooded stranger represent? The collective unconscious? The 1950s Communist witch hunts? The designated hitter? Advocates have spent nearly minutes arguing their point of view.

The accompanying art work - a stranger in a cloak on one side, a deformed horse on the other - only intensifies the mystery.
Finally, we again caution readers with heart conditions as well as those drinking cups of coffee. Surprise endings could result in complete heart failure or spit takes.

The stranger poem
by m.e.hanley

Who is the man who lives here?
Everyone has this fear,
That he is not good.
Just because he wears a hood.
That must be a lie,
After all, it is I.

Turtle, by m.e.hanley

Editor's notes: Here is the third in a series of five never-before-seen poems by the extremely erstwhile poet, m.e.hanley.
The short but powerful"turtle" may be the most frightening of rediscovered series.

The isolation of the author - afraid a single misstep will lead to "yelling" and "screaming" - is apparent. He is alone in a cruel world. Ironically, he finds solace in a "turtle": an animal that can lock itself away with its own portable armor. Is this a doppelganger for the author?

This imagery peaks with the sheer absurdity of walking a pet turtle. The perverse visual of dragging a little shell down the sidewalk on a leash is undoubtedly meant to disorient the reader and make them question their own humanity.

Indeed, by the end, we are left to wonder whether the turtle is such an "awesome" pet. Especially because they don't live as long as you'd think.

The turtle poem

by m.e.hanley

A turtle is an awesome pet,

I have one for myself,

He never yells at what I do,

Only worrys about himself.

He does not yell and scream,

If I do something wrong.

He just hopes when I take a walk,

I'll bring him along.

Spring, by m.e.hanley

Editor's notes: This is the second in a series of recently discovered poems by the reviled poet, m.e.hanley.
Among the five poems, this contains the most symbolism. Most readers are by now familiar with many of the themes in "spring" but it is worth pointing to the "buzzing, zipping, crazy bees" that likely are reference to the human condition that buzzes, zips and occasionally is stung.
Also of note: the mixing of seasons. Although the poem opens with many signs of spring, suddenly the readers is confronted by a "glaring, hot sun" that stares out people and is more than warm. Perhaps a nod to the rising tide of socialism.
Again, we see an unconventional rhyme structure throughout the poem, possibly a sign of impending madness.

The spring poem
By m.e.hanley

Spring is a fragrance of flowers,
Through many hours.
A bunny hopping here and there,
Butterflies everywhere.
Birds singing their sweet song,
Lakes shimmering far and long,
Green leaves on the trees,
Buzzing, zipping, crazy bees,
Glaring, hot sun,
Having lots of fun,
Beauty as far as you can see,
That's what spring is to me.

Baseball, by m.e.hanley

Editor's comments: This poem comes from the recently discovered collection of the thankfully forgotten poet, m.e.hanley. All the poems were untitled, but poetry scholars have named each of the pieces based on its theme.
This poem is notable for the use of unusual names for baseball equipment, notably the "hitting hat", which is not a hat that hits anything. Furthermore, the poem is notable for the interesting and almost indiscernible rhyme structure.
Also, spoiler alert, beware of shocking endings. Those with heart conditions have been warned. We hope you enjoy these misunderstood and little read poems.

The baseball poem
By m.e.hanley

It is my turn at bat,
I put on my hitting hat.
I go with shaky knees to the plate,
Like I was trying to ice skate.
Pitcher throws...Too high.
Pitcher throws...outside.
Pitcher throws...Just right!
I swing with all my might.
I hit it. Oh! What fun!
Now I must run run run,
I was safe what a joy,
To bad I was just a dreaming boy.

Forgotten poetry remembered!

HOFFMAN ESTATES - Scholars are still reeling from the discovery of a treasure trove of poems recently uncovered in the closet of the poorly-known 1989 poet m.e.hanley.
Once thought lost to the ravages of recycling, last month by the erstwhile poet's mother, underneath a Darryl Strawberry trapper keeper. This series of five odes may shed new light on the early career of a writer who has refused to stop working, despite a public outcry.
For years, the poems were considered lost. They became legendary in poetry circles, cautionary tales to be swapped during late night jams at local Caribou Coffee shops.
They would mark the only known poetic output of the obscure, universally forgotten author.
According to people who have seen the collection, each poems delves into a single topic: mystery, spring, baseball, turtles and Christmas. All five are apparently contained in a single notebook, marked with a sticker that reads: "TOTALLY AweSome".
m.e.hanley is barely known in the poetry world but, since his retirement, many scholars have cited his work as poorly constructed, derivative and bland.
"Who?" said Harvard literature professor Rufus T. Firefly.

Since the announcement of the discovery, the online poetry has been barely buzzing. A chat room set up at OvercookedSylviaPlath.com garnered almost one comment.
The poems are expected to be unveiled over the next five days at an equally obscure websites.
"Poetry will never be the same," said one person who has read the poems, but declined to be identified because she was embarrassed.

Lynne and Matt blog is proud to present these poems, in their entirety with the original artwork. Stay tuned over the next five days as each poem is unveiled!

Tomorrow: m.e.hanley takes on the National Pastime.

Mark of Fridays: Adventures in Florida

Mark went to Florida last week and had the greatest time ever! He went to a spring training game between the Red Sox and Twins (saw his first home run - Jim Thome bomb); met Maggie Huffenberger (and possibly got his first non-Mommie/Aunt/Grandma crush); played in the pool; dipped his feet in the Atlantic Ocean and, mostly, hung out with his cool aunts!

Mark of Fridays: Play Ball!

Just six months old, Mark has already arrived at the most important choice he will ever make: baseball allegiance. Decisions made now will give him a lifetime of wonderful memories or haunt him for centuries.
So, who will win his fanhood? Really, there's only one correct answer. Right?