Get down wit yo bad self, Alex!
Hm. Now what could this stuff be? (Note his mouth is open in this shot.)
I turn around a minute later to this:
That’s my boy! Sniff!
Archive for October, 2007
Oct
31
writing till the internet blowz up
So, say I needed to submit 3 writing samples of things I’ve written … would you, by chance, tell me what, if anything, I’ve written that you might recommend I use?
And.
I’m doing NaNoWriMo AND NaBloPoMo.
Have I lost my ever loving mind?
Nah, but I’ll bet ya’ll will be reading some novel excerpts 
So today, I’m keeping it short, ‘cuz you’ll be hearing PLENTY from me in the next 30 days!
(Well, that, and I’ll have Halloween photos of the baby tonight! If I can put down the candy long enough to take a picture, that is.)
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Oct
30
Shot day part two
More shots for the Kaiser yesterday. He still took it really well. He was well past nap time by the time the needles hit his thighs, so he was more annoyed than at the 4 month appointment – but still less annoyed than being trapped in the car for a long road trip. He’s already been up and trying to crawl, so his thighs must feel okay, he’s had two 2 hour naps (!), got grizzly and wasn’t a fan of the Tylenol. Is now trying to annex my computer and has been rerouted to chew on some other valuable piece of equipment, since the 2 dollar whale and the plastic links just weren’t equitable replacements for the MacBook.
Had all sorts of really unhelpful information on the sheet from the ped. Again with the “Most children sleep through the night at this age” Yeah, really? Let’s play data collection on that one – did your kid sleep through the night at 6 months? And my definition of through the night is you put child in crib at night and don’t see him or her till morning. I know Pantley defines it as 5 hours – and even in our house of ill sleep repute we can get that – but sadly it’s from 8-1am – whoopee.)
She told us that in another month we could start giving Kaiser food from the table. We just nodded and said okay.
What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
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Oct
29
Mrs. Flinger – better than the gym
Last Monday, I started really focusing on losing the baby weight – thanks to her getting a team together to try and lose the pounds together. I did great right off the bat, then, it rained for three days, it’s now red tent week, and the 2 scoops of ice cream I had last night were. totally. worth. it.
Scout and I once joined a gym. It did not begin well. Here is my reflection on that:
Do not, I repeat, do not join a gym and have your fitness assessment the day before you start your period. Also if you happen to be caught in a traffic that makes a 40 minute drive take 2 hours and 11 minutes – also just call the damn gym and cancel the appointment (please note where I was sitting in traffic is the highway where the bridge collapsed this summer). If your English import sports bra (the only f*cking place on the planet that markets a sports bra actually effective for what I need a sportsbra for) has not yet come in, take it as a sign and do NOT go to the appointment.
If you do not heed this advice you will almost roll your eyes at the nutrition counselor. You will get teary eyed when your husband tries to comfort you b/c he’s a smart boy and recognizes the signs of impending emotional disaster but has not yet come to realize that touching at this moment of pre-explosion only brings doom closer.
After your nutrition session where you learn that the counselor won’t even answer a simple question about SERVING SIZE without referring you to her low low price intro program of 129 (and 99 cents of course) with followup sessions of 89.99 (why don’t they just round up? does their computer system not have a zero on the keyboard?) you will be uncharacteristically pissed. Oh the fact that your BMI=overweight isn’t helping either.
The pissed feeling from this, when combined with the next task in 10 minutes of your fitness assessment with a muscle bound dude will manifest itself in an embarrassed crying fit in the front of the gym.
When you actually go for the fitness assessment your tender baby feelings will get hurt in all new ways when muscle bound plunks the results of your test down – The good news is that I have “average” bicep strength …. for a woman of course. I have poor flexibility – even though Scout did tell me afterward that the machine quit recording before I was done “flexing” so we’ll just disregard that score until later. THEN I have 33% body fat – guess who’s breathing on the door of obese in a way that if I turn too quickly I might knock it down with my “overweight” ass? My personal favorite was the cardio – after a nice brisk 5 minute walk that actually didn’t make me feel like I was going to die I felt pretty good till the treadmill kicks out “Below Average – 25.” Huh, yeah, turns out I need my cardio score to go up like 3 points before I can even work my way up to the “poor” range.
And to top it off – my body age is 38. uh huh. 38. But for about 900 dollars and eight sessions with a trainer I could be well on my way away from not being almost 40.
Your freak show somewhat in shape, TALL, possessing of a metabolism husband will choose to stay behind and run a couple miles. This works well b/c you can go home, bawl into your cat’s fur (I do not mean this euphemistically as a ‘pussy’ kind of joke – I’m not that flexible – see the above score for proof of that) snot on husband’s pillow and moan over aching boobs (see no sports bra reference above).
You will say screw it and order bbq pizza, and cheese bread and drink DP with schnapps for dinner. This will make you rather amorous as the schnapps hits your system. This will make you romance your husband. This will work really well until the schnapps wears off about the time it gets really interesting and the aches and pains in the boobs and the cramps will overtake any fun and you plead a raincheck with your husband for another night.
You will awake the next morning and be thrilled when you see your period has started. This will confirm that you are not loony, depressed, fat, weak, unsexy, or any of the other things that have wandered through your mind – including pregnant.
So to sum up – no gym assessment when premenstrual. Don’t do it.
***
For the record – Mrs. Flinger has never made me cry. Or asked me for 900 dollars.
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Oct
28
The Sunday Meme
4 Jobs I have had:
Volunteer counselor at summer camp
Shoe sales
Lingerie sales
Work study in a college office
4 Movies I love to watch over and over:
Zoolander
Anne of Green Gables
Steel Magnolias
Singles
4 TV shows I enjoy watching:
Get Color (my HGTV fix)
Saturday Night Live (on DVR only so I can ffwd the ones that suck and go on too long
Grey’s Anatomy (OMG I lurve Callie and Alex after this last week. And Mark “They formed a club about hating me” Sloan!)
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
4 Places I have been:
Hell
Back
Stingray City (Grand Cayman)
Peterborough, Ontario, Canada
4 Websites I visit daily:
Confessions of a Pioneer Woman
G00gle Reader
4 Favorite Foods:
Chipotle Guacamole
Culver’s peanut butter custard
Fried cheese at any state fair
Rubio’s baja lobster taco/burrito
4 Places I would rather be:
You know what, I’m actually content where I am right now. That will change, I promise.
I’m skipping the tagging portion of this, because I think it’s been around a while. If you want to do it – tag you’re it!
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Oct
27
The right words
(Anyone with child – you might want to skip this post.)
I found out this week that my cousin miscarried her baby. I found out through a cryptic email from my Dad to the family asking everyone to pray for cousin and her husband. I confirmed with Deacon what had happened – but there was more to it.
Twins.
She lost twins.
My cousin and I aren’t close. Truth be told, we probably don’t care for each other that much, although we disregard each other so much that we really have never taken the time to find out if we like each other or not.
She and her husband have been married for 6 years. She’s pretty into her niece and nephews. It had been long enough that I was afraid that her not being a mom wasn’t her choice, so in my way, I was really happy for her when I found out she was pregnant. I watched from afar as she and her husband told my grandma.
She looked so happy.
It’s bothered me all week about whether or not I should say something. And what to say even if I’m in a position to say something. It’s stuck with me all. week. long.
***
I checked my spam folder tonight and there was an email from a high school friend. One of those people I was really close to at one point in time, but we’ve drifted over the years. She has a son I haven’t met.
She emailed me to tell me she’s miscarried. Again. Twice in less than a year. This time at 17 weeks. She’s so hurt and so shocked that it happened again.
Se told me this baby was a boy like the last one. She told me she knows that they are in heaven taking care of each other. Which just broke me.
But after having this close to my heart all week, I had words, I felt like I could at least say something and not leave her with empty silence.
I wrote I was sorry, and I knew sorry wasn’t enough.
I wrote sometimes God is a big ole toad, and I hated that his plan was so opposite hers.
I wrote that those babies matter, and her dreams about them matter very, very much.
I wrote that I’m far away, but if she needs someone to read what she had to say about things, that I would read.
***
I hope it was enough. I hope the words were okay.
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Oct
26
Alex’s Half Birthday
?Ǭ†(He’s already 6 months old… all of you who are more experienced with this… know that I now join you in being teary watching my baby grow up…)
A while back, I read this post.
Go on, go read it … if I’m borrowing her words I’ll feel okay with it if ya’ll go read what she said first….
Okay. You’re back. Excellent.
When I hold Alex close, I keep looking for the pie smell to him. It’s not so much dessert pie to me… but he’s definitely mine, and I now think of that smell as pie …
Today I sat on the couch, while he napped on me. Because this is the way that he’s rolled when it’s come to naps this week. I watched his red cheek rise and fall with our breathing. I smelled his baby pie-ness. I though about sleep training. I thought about all the people who would roll their eyes at me letting this great big 6 month old sleep on me. All the people who would warn me about bad habits and didn’t I ever want any sleep and wasn’t my marriage simply going to collapse because he’s not a champ sleeper. I wondered if we should work on night weaning, I wondered if we should start solid routines to get him to independent sleep.
Then I thought about how this one little boy has filled our life so completely that we don’t plan to have another one. How each day that passes is a day that we won’t repeat. How each new first is a first and last of what we will celebrate a child of ours accomplishing.
I thought about how we plan to do this once. Once.
I buried my nose gently his baby smell. I decided that in 5 years or 2 years or 3 hours when he’s too busy to sit on my lap, or look at me, or notice I’m in the room, that I’ll never regret this hour on my couch, holding the baby close, knowing he’s safe, acting as pillow, being the mom.
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Oct
25
Squashed
I learned that when you start with a lot of squash…
and pumpkins… and sweet potatoes…
and you put them on the grill to cook…
that when you use the blender to make the puree…
and you need to stop the blender and shift the pieces in the blender…
wait till the blades stop moving before you stick a knife in the blender…
Seriously…
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Oct
24
Sleep Training, by Amy
Mommy will get back to the foody goodness later – Tuesday was non stop rain, crabby baby mommy, me loving my mommy so much that she got nothing done, and going slowly crazy from our rain imposed entrapment in the house.
Amy hijacked her mommy’s email last week and sent me this. I’m so glad to see babies around the globe working together for the betterment of our parents.
Sleep Training
OK, here’s my situation. My Mommy has had me for almost 7 months. The first few months were great–I cried, she picked me up and fed me, anytime, day or night. Then something happened. Over the last few weeks, she has been trying to STTN (sleep thru the night). At first, I thought it was just a phase, but it is only getting worse. I’ve talked to other babies, and it seems like it’s pretty common after Mommies have had us for around 6 months. Here’s the thing: these Mommies don’t really need to sleep. It’s just a habit. Many of them have had some 30 years to sleep–they just don’t need it anymore. So I am implementing a plan. I call it the Crybaby Shuffle. It goes like this:
Night 1–cry every 3 hours until you get fed. I know, it’s hard. It’s hard to see your Mommy upset over your crying. Just keep reminding yourself, it’s for her own good.
Night 2–cry every 2 hours until you get fed.
Night 3–every hour.
Most Mommies will start to respond more quickly after about 3 nights. Some Mommies are more alert, and may resist the change longer. These Mommies may stand in your doorway for hours, shhhh-ing. Don’t give in. I cannot stress this enough: CONSISTENCY IS KEY!! If you let her STTN (sleep through the night), just once, she will expect it every night. I KNOW IT’S HARD! But she really does not need the sleep, she is just resisting the change. If you have an especially alert Mommy, you can stop crying for about 10 minutes, just long enough for her to go back to bed and start to fall asleep. Then cry again. It WILL eventually work. My Mommy once stayed awake for 10 hours straight, so I know she can do it.
Last night, I cried every hour. You just have to decide to stick to it and just go for it. BE CONSISTENT! I cried for any reason I could come up with:
My sleep sack tickled my foot.
I felt a wrinkle under the sheet.
My mobile made a shadow on the wall.
I burped, and it tasted like pears. I hadn’t eaten pears since lunch, what’s up with that? The cat said “meow”. I should know. My Mommy reminds me of this about 20 times a day. LOL.
Once I cried just because I liked how it sounded when it echoed on the monitor in the other room.
Too hot, too cold, just right–doesn’t matter!
Keep crying!! It took awhile, but it worked. She fed me at 4am. Tomorrow night, my goal is 3:30am. You need to slowly shorten the interval between feedings in order to reset your Mommies’ internal clocks.
P.S. Don’t let those rubber things fool you, no matter how long you suck on them, no milk will come out. Trust me.
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Oct
23
Eat yer farkin’ veggies
Okay, so yesterday I talked about my weird ass issues with my hands and hand washing. I’ve used the homemade sanitizer for a fews days now and I really like it. The consistency is relatively the same as the stuff you would buy, the lavender does smell nice and works with the alcohol, rather than competing with it. I’m assuming my hands are marginally cleaner than they were before – and I can pronounce everything in the bottle. I like that too.
I have it on good authority that Jennifer has the crack source for good soap.
So. I’ve told you one weird thing about me this week. Here comes another.
Not a fan of vegetables.
I totally understand that they are, like, good for you and stuff. But … ick. There are three in particular that I appreciate how pretty they are, but just don’t care to eat them.
I’ll give you three guesses.
Yeah, I know. Tomato is a fruit. I just realized that – but anyway.
Scout is mystified that I don’t care for those three foods, but I’ll eat salsa and spaghetti sauce.
I used the stuff in the picture above and made 3 small batches of salsa – two are in the freezer and one is being eaten. Yum.
Next crazy thing – I hate knives. That’s not exactly true. I’m excessively scared of getting cut by a knife. (Same goes for heights – heights don’t scare me – falling from them does. Flying doesn’t scare me – blowing up does.)
This knife thing makes cooking a bit of a chore. So I’ve learned to be as efficient as possible with it.
See the criss cross pattern cut into the whole onion?
Then I cut it off into the smaller pieces.
Betty F. Crocker in the house, I swear.
Oh, except she probably wouldn’t decide that using the oil and basil out of the mozzarella that she’d already inhaled was just what the sauce needed. Julia would though, oh Julia would.
Mmm. Pretty.
I took all of that and threw it in the blender (gradually) with enough water to let it mix together.
Then I went all crazy and made meatballs.
From SCRATCH. Good grief.
Perhaps I need to work on my plating skills next…..
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Oct
22
Clean Hands
So, all good cooks know that clean hands are a must for pre food touching. All good mommies know that clean hands are a must – just because they are a must.
Here’s a little tidbit about me:
I dee-test the feeling of my hands after they have had soap on them. They feel dry and sandpapery, and they catch on things and ick! ew! And with the heinous nail biting habit, I really don’t need any more gross going on with my hands.
One of my only memories of preschool is being made to wash my hands under water that felt way too hot on my hands. (Teacher wasn’t mean, I just have a low heat tolerance on my skin.)
So – I need clean hands – I hate soap and I hate hot water. Have to do something.
But wait, I also appreciate alcohol.
DIY found a way to mix these things together.
Now, since I’m a champ at taking the Kaiser on sketchy shopping trips, it was only fitting that we went to buy grain alcohol with babe in arms. Nothing says class like babies and 190 proof likker. I should have just bought a tin of Skoal and been done with my image busting for the year.
I decided to use the grain alcohol instead of the vodka from the DIY recipe because 1) higher proof and 2) didn’t want to be tempted to drink hand sanitizer.
I arranged my ingredients.
I mixed (no photo)
I refilled an old hand sanitizer bottle (reuse, reduce, recycle, have sex!), and put the spare in the fridge for later.
This was just the beginning of Martha F. Stewart coming to town.
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Oct
21
Betty F. Crocker
Okay, so the theme of this week is getting chosen by me.
And only because it’s timely.
And SHOCKING.
SHOCKING
Betty Friggin’ Crocker possessed our bodies. I don’t know wtf happened. I’m still reeling. One minute Scout was waving around his man-squash
And the next, our refrigerator looked like this
This week, I’ll tell ya’ll about this demon possession.
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Oct
20
Word of the Day
Isn’t it great how some words just make you giggle?
I have a friend who is incapable of keeping a straight face if you say the word ‘jism’ to him.
I have another friend who is totally creeped out by both ‘crevice’ and ‘moist’ – to which, I of course just say “put your hands together my friend” and taunt with the ‘moist crevice’.
The moist thing has even come up on Dead Like Me and over here. Both times I just died laughing because, apparently Rake isn’t alone in the ick factor.
What words make you giggle … or cringe?
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