A minivan. We have the Jeep. I love the features the Jeep has, and I do admit I love my SUV. However, I don't love the 14mpg on a good tank of gas. It's hurting way too much in the pocket book. Rooster's car seat is behind the passenger seat, and the angle forces the passenger seat to sit way too close to the dashboard. I hate hitting my knees on it.
So, on my list of minivan demands:
1) New enough to get much better gas mileage than the Jeep
2) Captains' chairs in the second row
3) LATCH
4) Cheap as free or really close to it
5) Reliable
6) Room enough to haul kids and friends
Now, let's see what happens.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Sunday, September 25, 2005
I'm not ready!
Rooster took his very first crawling steps earlier this evening! He's been getting up on hands and knees and rocking back and forth for about a week. He didn't get much floor time today (house full of relatives--more on that later), but about 30 minutes before we left, I put him on the floor to play, and after about 5 minutes, he made some little crawling steps. He crawled and scooched all the way around the living room several times. :::sniff::: My baby's getting so big.
He's mobile. ::::faint::::
He's mobile. ::::faint::::
Friday, September 23, 2005
Apparently, I'm venting.
I haven't said anything about The Nookylessness for the last few months. It would make the situation worse to bring it up and remind TheHusband of his inadequacy (in any department). The only thing I've done since Rooster was born was buy a box of condoms, and mentioned that I'd like to get back into the swing of things sometime soon. Then he got sick, and I haven't made a peep since. Until tonight.
I was baking blondies (I bake when stressed. Needless to say, the house has been CookieLand the last few weeks) and my batter cooled too much to get the eggs in and it failed miserably (wasting 2 cups of sugar in the process--grrr). It was too much for me to handle. I haven't melted down at all since TheHusband got sick, and this was all of that, plus all of my stress about finances (somewhat relieved now) and about the neighbors calling the police on the Honda (long story) instead of coming to our door and saying they had a problem with its location (we could have explained the situation then--we have to wait for payday to move it) resulting in an impound notice. I'd gone a month and a half without a good cry and I needed it.
Physical touch is a very important component of my relationships. I'm a hugger, I like to be touched by those I care about. It's especially important that my husband hug me, kiss me, touch my elbow when he walks by, etc. I got 3 kisses (pecks) today. One when he left for work this morning, one when he got home, and one when he went to bed. This is becoming normal, and I hate it.
Anyway, TheHusband sees me crying over the failed blondie batter, which is between him and the basement stairs (and our kitchen is narrow), and he sighs, walks AROUND me, and goes down to transfer the laundry. #)(*#%Q&%!!!
So I yelled and let him have it. I told him that I was making a tremendous amount of effort in the housework department because I love him and I know it's important to him. I don't care how tired he is, I don't care how little he feels like it, I need some attention. I hate housework with a passion. I'd do many things before doing dishes, given a choice. I hate how the laundry is in the basement. I hate it, hate it, hate it. And yet, I do it for him. I know it's important to him, and I know that it's part of my job as a homemaker. He knows how important physical affection is to me, and he's not even making an effort. I couldn't express to him just how much it hurts. He then tried to walk through every single possible reason he could have for not having interest (fortunately, nothing about my physical appearance is causing this @@), and excused himself from other forms of physical connection by saying my hugs felt 'needy.' Damn right they're needy. I cuddle, kiss and soothe two children all day, and most of the night (Eeny's cold threw a wrench into his sleep habits—hellooo parental bed). I give these children the tons of physical attention they need. I need the supply replenished every once in a while. Needy. Phhsshh. @@
The whole stupid thing ended basically with him saying he understands where I'm coming from and he thinks things will change in a few months, but that for now, I'd just have to deal with going without. I can deal with going without. I've done it for 10 months, I can go a little longer if I have to. What I want, and what I didn't get, is for him to at least make an effort. It feels like he's not even going to try until he 'feels like it.' Thanks, honey. That's really helpful. That's exactly the kind of attitude that makes a marriage work and function. :::sigh:::
ARGH!
Well, I feel better for having gotten that out. My parents asked to keep Eeny tonight, so we have a night of toddler-free sleep and I need to go take advantage of it.
I was baking blondies (I bake when stressed. Needless to say, the house has been CookieLand the last few weeks) and my batter cooled too much to get the eggs in and it failed miserably (wasting 2 cups of sugar in the process--grrr). It was too much for me to handle. I haven't melted down at all since TheHusband got sick, and this was all of that, plus all of my stress about finances (somewhat relieved now) and about the neighbors calling the police on the Honda (long story) instead of coming to our door and saying they had a problem with its location (we could have explained the situation then--we have to wait for payday to move it) resulting in an impound notice. I'd gone a month and a half without a good cry and I needed it.
Physical touch is a very important component of my relationships. I'm a hugger, I like to be touched by those I care about. It's especially important that my husband hug me, kiss me, touch my elbow when he walks by, etc. I got 3 kisses (pecks) today. One when he left for work this morning, one when he got home, and one when he went to bed. This is becoming normal, and I hate it.
Anyway, TheHusband sees me crying over the failed blondie batter, which is between him and the basement stairs (and our kitchen is narrow), and he sighs, walks AROUND me, and goes down to transfer the laundry. #)(*#%Q&%!!!
So I yelled and let him have it. I told him that I was making a tremendous amount of effort in the housework department because I love him and I know it's important to him. I don't care how tired he is, I don't care how little he feels like it, I need some attention. I hate housework with a passion. I'd do many things before doing dishes, given a choice. I hate how the laundry is in the basement. I hate it, hate it, hate it. And yet, I do it for him. I know it's important to him, and I know that it's part of my job as a homemaker. He knows how important physical affection is to me, and he's not even making an effort. I couldn't express to him just how much it hurts. He then tried to walk through every single possible reason he could have for not having interest (fortunately, nothing about my physical appearance is causing this @@), and excused himself from other forms of physical connection by saying my hugs felt 'needy.' Damn right they're needy. I cuddle, kiss and soothe two children all day, and most of the night (Eeny's cold threw a wrench into his sleep habits—hellooo parental bed). I give these children the tons of physical attention they need. I need the supply replenished every once in a while. Needy. Phhsshh. @@
The whole stupid thing ended basically with him saying he understands where I'm coming from and he thinks things will change in a few months, but that for now, I'd just have to deal with going without. I can deal with going without. I've done it for 10 months, I can go a little longer if I have to. What I want, and what I didn't get, is for him to at least make an effort. It feels like he's not even going to try until he 'feels like it.' Thanks, honey. That's really helpful. That's exactly the kind of attitude that makes a marriage work and function. :::sigh:::
ARGH!
Well, I feel better for having gotten that out. My parents asked to keep Eeny tonight, so we have a night of toddler-free sleep and I need to go take advantage of it.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Just an average day
I'm in the process of rearranging the boys' room. It's too crowded, and the barely used crib keeps getting in the way of Rooster's closet. TheHusband somehow decided that a stack of yaffa blocks behind the changing table means good storage. He obviously hasn't put much thought into it. I'd like to see the yaffa blocks used for toys only or disappear altogether.
I can breathe again! My allergies are acting up. I haven't had an attack this bad in years. TheHusband informed me that in order to save money, we'd be opening the windows on all bearable days (it's been in the 90s here--I hate indian summer). Just to show him, I agreed to do it one day. One. He came home to a wife with red, watery, itchy eyes, a stuffy nose, and a chip the size of Texas on her shoulder. Needless to say, after informing him exactly what was wrong with me, and pointing him in the direction of my favorite remedy, he went out tonight and with our last few dollars, got my favorite allergy homeopathic. It's by BHI, and it's simply called Allergy. I love being able to breathe through my nose and not spend 10 minutes at a time with my knuckles stuffed in my eyes, itching.
It sounds like there's something living in my breadmaker. We're having French Toast for dinner tomorrow or the next night, and I'm making breadmaker Brioche for it. The usual loopy whir of the machine is rather nice, but it occasionally throws in this knock that sounds like there's a rat in it trying to hammer his way out. Eeeew. :::shudder:::
After years of baking in relative ease, I've come face to face with my biggest irritation. No brown sugar. I was craving butterscotch brownies. So I bearded the sugar lion in his den and discovered that brown sugar is, in fact, sugar with molasses, not the leftovers of sugar processing as I had been led to believe. So I made brown sugar, and baked butterscotch brownies. They should be cool any minute, and then I'm having one (or three) with a nice, big glass of milk.
I should have taken the boys for a walk today. This is my third day of Operation Look Really Hot that I've missed it. It was 93 degrees at 6pm though, so I'm thinking I have a valid excuse. I hate heat.
I also hate it when TheHusband breaks wind and then complains that I don't like it. I've courteously avoided breaking wind in front of him during our last nearly 7 years together. Surely he thinks I am worthy of the same courtesy. He claims he can't control it. Um, right. I've pushed 8 and 9 pound babies out of a nearby location and have no problems not farting in front of people, what's his excuse?
I am sure Gerard Butler would carefully avoid breaking wind in front of a lady. Mission: Find Gerard Butler and ascertain veracity of previous statement.
TheHusband and I have been married for nearly 4 years. I still prefer to use the restroom with the door closed. He has no problems leaving it open. There are just some things that should remain a mystery. Heck, leave me at least a little of the romance.
Speaking of romance, if we make it to December without having broken the post-(and pre in this case) baby dry spell, we'll have officially gone a whole quarter of our marriage to date, not having marital relations. This, I am not okay with. I don't care how tired he is. At least make an effort. Doesn't he realize that many men would be more than happy to have a wife with an appetite like mine? Physical touch is my primary love language (thank you, Dr. Gary Chapman, author of The Five Love Languages). His is acts of service (stuff like keeping the house clean). I'm doing a kick-ass job of holding up my end of the bargain, where's my nooky?
I can breathe again! My allergies are acting up. I haven't had an attack this bad in years. TheHusband informed me that in order to save money, we'd be opening the windows on all bearable days (it's been in the 90s here--I hate indian summer). Just to show him, I agreed to do it one day. One. He came home to a wife with red, watery, itchy eyes, a stuffy nose, and a chip the size of Texas on her shoulder. Needless to say, after informing him exactly what was wrong with me, and pointing him in the direction of my favorite remedy, he went out tonight and with our last few dollars, got my favorite allergy homeopathic. It's by BHI, and it's simply called Allergy. I love being able to breathe through my nose and not spend 10 minutes at a time with my knuckles stuffed in my eyes, itching.
It sounds like there's something living in my breadmaker. We're having French Toast for dinner tomorrow or the next night, and I'm making breadmaker Brioche for it. The usual loopy whir of the machine is rather nice, but it occasionally throws in this knock that sounds like there's a rat in it trying to hammer his way out. Eeeew. :::shudder:::
After years of baking in relative ease, I've come face to face with my biggest irritation. No brown sugar. I was craving butterscotch brownies. So I bearded the sugar lion in his den and discovered that brown sugar is, in fact, sugar with molasses, not the leftovers of sugar processing as I had been led to believe. So I made brown sugar, and baked butterscotch brownies. They should be cool any minute, and then I'm having one (or three) with a nice, big glass of milk.
I should have taken the boys for a walk today. This is my third day of Operation Look Really Hot that I've missed it. It was 93 degrees at 6pm though, so I'm thinking I have a valid excuse. I hate heat.
I also hate it when TheHusband breaks wind and then complains that I don't like it. I've courteously avoided breaking wind in front of him during our last nearly 7 years together. Surely he thinks I am worthy of the same courtesy. He claims he can't control it. Um, right. I've pushed 8 and 9 pound babies out of a nearby location and have no problems not farting in front of people, what's his excuse?
I am sure Gerard Butler would carefully avoid breaking wind in front of a lady. Mission: Find Gerard Butler and ascertain veracity of previous statement.
TheHusband and I have been married for nearly 4 years. I still prefer to use the restroom with the door closed. He has no problems leaving it open. There are just some things that should remain a mystery. Heck, leave me at least a little of the romance.
Speaking of romance, if we make it to December without having broken the post-(and pre in this case) baby dry spell, we'll have officially gone a whole quarter of our marriage to date, not having marital relations. This, I am not okay with. I don't care how tired he is. At least make an effort. Doesn't he realize that many men would be more than happy to have a wife with an appetite like mine? Physical touch is my primary love language (thank you, Dr. Gary Chapman, author of The Five Love Languages). His is acts of service (stuff like keeping the house clean). I'm doing a kick-ass job of holding up my end of the bargain, where's my nooky?
Sunday, September 18, 2005
The Emmys entry
I loved Felicity Huffman's dress. Sandra Oh's not so much.
I was glad to see Tony Shalhoub win Best Actor in a Comedy Series, although I would have been equally glad to see Zach Braff win.
It occurred to me this evening that Lauren Graham and Patricia Arquette both look more like real women than the the waif-type creatures I'm accustomed to seeing at awards shows (maybe their camera subtracts 10 pounds, who knows?). Woohoo hips! It was nice.
I had no idea Naveen Andrews (Lost) was with Barbara Hershey. Go Barbara!
I loved the Peter Jennings tribute.
More if and when I think about it.
I was glad to see Tony Shalhoub win Best Actor in a Comedy Series, although I would have been equally glad to see Zach Braff win.
It occurred to me this evening that Lauren Graham and Patricia Arquette both look more like real women than the the waif-type creatures I'm accustomed to seeing at awards shows (maybe their camera subtracts 10 pounds, who knows?). Woohoo hips! It was nice.
I had no idea Naveen Andrews (Lost) was with Barbara Hershey. Go Barbara!
I loved the Peter Jennings tribute.
More if and when I think about it.
Friday, September 16, 2005
A milestone
Eeny put his pants on by himself this evening. We were getting ready to go for a walk, and I handed him a pair of pants to take to TheHusband so he could dress him. TheHusband and I briefly converse, and then we turn around to see Eeny on the couch, with one leg in his pants. I held the waistband so he could get his other leg in, and he put them on almost all of the rest of the way by himself. :) Yeah, so they were backwards and he needed help getting them up over his diaper, but WHO CARES?! My kid dressed himself! :)
I don't want to say this too loudly, but he might be on the way to weaning. He's started slowing down on nursing to sleep for naptime. He's also started nursing for a little bit, then saying, "No," and getting down. He cuddled on the couch with me today for 15 minutes without asking for his Nee. I think I'm ready for it.
I'm sad that he seems to be needing me less and less. I know it's normal and appropriate, but couldn't he need me less when we're not going through a time of tremendous upheaval? Can't he wait until I'm feeling like I'm a good mother to him again? I love him dearly, and he's been acting out lately. Totally understandable, given the circumstances of the past month, but it makes me really frustrated and angry with his behavior. I know it's normal, but somehow, knowing it's normal doesn't really help me feel any better when he scratches Rooster or pulls his hair or just walks up and hits him. He'll walk up once or twice a day and say to me, "Rooster down." He means "Put Rooster down," but he can't quite say that yet. He gets frantic if I can't do it right away. Usually, I can't. Rooster's in a phase of really really really really really really wanting to be held all the dang time now.
I know it's just temporary and normal, but still, it's frustrating to have the needs of another young child to meet. I don't like feeling like I'm prioritizing one child over the other when it comes to needs. I just feel like I'm not the mom either of them need right now. I know once I find a job and TheHusband's back to normal activities (meningitis sucks, don't ever get it) that things will settle down, and I'll have my sanity (or something like it) back and feel like a good mom again. I wonder where my patience went. It's probably on back order.
I don't want to say this too loudly, but he might be on the way to weaning. He's started slowing down on nursing to sleep for naptime. He's also started nursing for a little bit, then saying, "No," and getting down. He cuddled on the couch with me today for 15 minutes without asking for his Nee. I think I'm ready for it.
I'm sad that he seems to be needing me less and less. I know it's normal and appropriate, but couldn't he need me less when we're not going through a time of tremendous upheaval? Can't he wait until I'm feeling like I'm a good mother to him again? I love him dearly, and he's been acting out lately. Totally understandable, given the circumstances of the past month, but it makes me really frustrated and angry with his behavior. I know it's normal, but somehow, knowing it's normal doesn't really help me feel any better when he scratches Rooster or pulls his hair or just walks up and hits him. He'll walk up once or twice a day and say to me, "Rooster down." He means "Put Rooster down," but he can't quite say that yet. He gets frantic if I can't do it right away. Usually, I can't. Rooster's in a phase of really really really really really really wanting to be held all the dang time now.
I know it's just temporary and normal, but still, it's frustrating to have the needs of another young child to meet. I don't like feeling like I'm prioritizing one child over the other when it comes to needs. I just feel like I'm not the mom either of them need right now. I know once I find a job and TheHusband's back to normal activities (meningitis sucks, don't ever get it) that things will settle down, and I'll have my sanity (or something like it) back and feel like a good mom again. I wonder where my patience went. It's probably on back order.
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Vindicated
According to Entertainment Weekly's "The Shaw Report," Mother/Child blogs are In. Woohoo! I'm finally participating in something that is In. Usually I'm very Five Minutes Ago.
I've decided I want to be In in other ways, too. I saw a fashion special on E! a few weeks ago, and they talked about a cascade curl perm. I tried cascade curls on me with an iron, and they don't look too bad. I shall add it to my birthday list. As we are financially screwed (thanks to the Hospital Stay--woohoo! 7 grand we can't afford!), the only way I'll be getting any hair pampering is through birthday gifts.
I don't know what else to add to my birthday list.
I went through a Realty Simulator to see what a realty company thinks my aptitude for that particular career is. I didn't push Customer A enough, and I think I pushed Customer C too hard. I think my results will be something along the lines of, "Boy, that sucked. Please do not ever visit our website again. Never, ever, ever."
Mommy stuff now. I cloth diaper the boys part-time. Rooster's outgrown all of his covers, and Eeny's so squirmy it's hard to change him. However, my mother generously ordered some IttyBittyBottoms covers for me, and they arrived today. I LOVE to get mail. I especially love to get packages of cloth diapering supplies. :) These covers are great! I will definitely be ordering from her again. The only thing I'd want is to have a little more fabric over the thigh. Rooster's such a chunkybutt that it's tough to find clothes to fit his legs.
Eeny has started ending phrases in "dot com." His winners from yesterday were "Bub-bob (SpongeBob) dotcom?" "Daddy dot-com?" and "Rooster dot-com?" He always sounds like he's asking a question. He also says, Zassa (that's a) and Zississa (this is a) as the first word to just about any statement. He can now identify all but one car make in our neighborhood. He finally picked up Lincoln today. He's still having trouble with Saab, but we'll get there. It's hilarious to hear this high-pitched little kid voice riding down the street in his stroller naming all of the cars passing and parked on the side of the road.
A typical walk conversation sounds like this:
"Car? Tree? Doggy? Borb (Ford)? Leeenkon? Meercury? Zassa Nis-san? Zississa bi-cy-cle? Volkswagen?" Yes, the child actually says Volkswagen. I left the boys with a neighbor while I went to see TheHusband at the hospital last month, and they went for a walk. One of them owns a yellow Beetle. This is what she said happened:
Neighbor: Bug?
Eeny: Volks-wagen.
Neighbor: It's a bug.
Eeny: Volkswagen!
Neighbor: Bug.
Eeny: (grabs neighbors hand and pulls her around to the front of the car and points at the hood ornament) Volkswagen!
This kid cracks me up.
Rooster is learning to scoot. Everywhere. I caught him getting up on his hands and knees several times today. I'm thinking he'll be crawling by 7 months. I just don't know what to do with a kid who's mobile so soon. Eeny wasn't crawling until just shy of 9 months. This brings a whole new dimension to babyproofing.
Eeny's up. He's crying and wants Mama, Nee, and Bed.
I've decided I want to be In in other ways, too. I saw a fashion special on E! a few weeks ago, and they talked about a cascade curl perm. I tried cascade curls on me with an iron, and they don't look too bad. I shall add it to my birthday list. As we are financially screwed (thanks to the Hospital Stay--woohoo! 7 grand we can't afford!), the only way I'll be getting any hair pampering is through birthday gifts.
I don't know what else to add to my birthday list.
I went through a Realty Simulator to see what a realty company thinks my aptitude for that particular career is. I didn't push Customer A enough, and I think I pushed Customer C too hard. I think my results will be something along the lines of, "Boy, that sucked. Please do not ever visit our website again. Never, ever, ever."
Mommy stuff now. I cloth diaper the boys part-time. Rooster's outgrown all of his covers, and Eeny's so squirmy it's hard to change him. However, my mother generously ordered some IttyBittyBottoms covers for me, and they arrived today. I LOVE to get mail. I especially love to get packages of cloth diapering supplies. :) These covers are great! I will definitely be ordering from her again. The only thing I'd want is to have a little more fabric over the thigh. Rooster's such a chunkybutt that it's tough to find clothes to fit his legs.
Eeny has started ending phrases in "dot com." His winners from yesterday were "Bub-bob (SpongeBob) dotcom?" "Daddy dot-com?" and "Rooster dot-com?" He always sounds like he's asking a question. He also says, Zassa (that's a) and Zississa (this is a) as the first word to just about any statement. He can now identify all but one car make in our neighborhood. He finally picked up Lincoln today. He's still having trouble with Saab, but we'll get there. It's hilarious to hear this high-pitched little kid voice riding down the street in his stroller naming all of the cars passing and parked on the side of the road.
A typical walk conversation sounds like this:
"Car? Tree? Doggy? Borb (Ford)? Leeenkon? Meercury? Zassa Nis-san? Zississa bi-cy-cle? Volkswagen?" Yes, the child actually says Volkswagen. I left the boys with a neighbor while I went to see TheHusband at the hospital last month, and they went for a walk. One of them owns a yellow Beetle. This is what she said happened:
Neighbor: Bug?
Eeny: Volks-wagen.
Neighbor: It's a bug.
Eeny: Volkswagen!
Neighbor: Bug.
Eeny: (grabs neighbors hand and pulls her around to the front of the car and points at the hood ornament) Volkswagen!
This kid cracks me up.
Rooster is learning to scoot. Everywhere. I caught him getting up on his hands and knees several times today. I'm thinking he'll be crawling by 7 months. I just don't know what to do with a kid who's mobile so soon. Eeny wasn't crawling until just shy of 9 months. This brings a whole new dimension to babyproofing.
Eeny's up. He's crying and wants Mama, Nee, and Bed.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
First,
Rooster's second tooth showed itself today. Poor kid.
Second, the bolt on the tie rod on the front driver's side wheel of TheHusband's car broke today....while TheHusband was driving it. @@
Fortunately, it was only about 8 blocks from home and he was not hurt when the friggin' wheel fell off. Unfortunately, we had to have it towed (more stuff we can't afford, on the plus side, this could eliminate a trip to the ILs ::grin::), and now TheHusband has to take the Jeep to and from work. My Jeep....my escape from the stir-craziness...my Jeep with half a tank of gas...for the rest of the month....oy.
Anytime that lottery winner feels like making a very large endowment in our direction, I'm perfectly okay with it.
I'd also like to complain about DH's cousin. We didn't even know she was pregnant with Baby #3. That, in and of itself is no problem. It's just that this is her third baby in four years and I got a Baby Shower invitation. Maybe I'm just totally hypersensitive because we have exactly NO money at this point (and we're under contract to AOHell or we'd have gotten rid of the internet long ago), but it bugs me to get a shower invitation for a third baby. I grew up with this being horribly socially unacceptable and rude. TheHusband thinks I'm crazy and that it's perfectly normal to ask people to buy presents for your third baby in four years, but I didn't notice him asking me if anyone was going to throw me a shower for Rooster (I'm not mad that I didn't get one--I simply didn't expect it).
Second, the bolt on the tie rod on the front driver's side wheel of TheHusband's car broke today....while TheHusband was driving it. @@
Fortunately, it was only about 8 blocks from home and he was not hurt when the friggin' wheel fell off. Unfortunately, we had to have it towed (more stuff we can't afford, on the plus side, this could eliminate a trip to the ILs ::grin::), and now TheHusband has to take the Jeep to and from work. My Jeep....my escape from the stir-craziness...my Jeep with half a tank of gas...for the rest of the month....oy.
Anytime that lottery winner feels like making a very large endowment in our direction, I'm perfectly okay with it.
I'd also like to complain about DH's cousin. We didn't even know she was pregnant with Baby #3. That, in and of itself is no problem. It's just that this is her third baby in four years and I got a Baby Shower invitation. Maybe I'm just totally hypersensitive because we have exactly NO money at this point (and we're under contract to AOHell or we'd have gotten rid of the internet long ago), but it bugs me to get a shower invitation for a third baby. I grew up with this being horribly socially unacceptable and rude. TheHusband thinks I'm crazy and that it's perfectly normal to ask people to buy presents for your third baby in four years, but I didn't notice him asking me if anyone was going to throw me a shower for Rooster (I'm not mad that I didn't get one--I simply didn't expect it).
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Better him than me
Rooster cut his very first tooth today. I knew it was coming. It's bittersweet. I love seeing him grow, but at the same time, I wish he were still a teensy newborn who would snuggle up on my chest and fall asleep. But oh I love the little fanged baby he's growing into.
He put his First Tooth to good use by chomping TheHusband on the finger with it after he'd said, "I can't feel it. There's no tooth, it's just gums." Ha! Sucks to be him. LOL
He put his First Tooth to good use by chomping TheHusband on the finger with it after he'd said, "I can't feel it. There's no tooth, it's just gums." Ha! Sucks to be him. LOL
Monday, September 12, 2005
Don't look for me on Food Network
I made an attempt at basic fondant tonight. Attempt is the operative word. Of course, I cooked it too hard. I did, however, manage to make one tiny little ball that I could see might be what it was supposed to look like. Oh well. I shall stick to baking. I'm much better at that. LOL
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Remembering that day
"it felt like the whole country was under attack, and i wanted to gather
everyone i loved together and lock them in a room."
--a woman from the April '05 Kids board
That's exactly how I felt. I was asleep. A few months before, I'd gotten an apartment and was living alone for the first time. I went to sleep and woke up to the phone ringing. It was TheHusband, then TheFiance. He sounded so scared. He told me about all three flights. I spent the rest of the day until I had to go to work glued to the tv set and Peter Jennings in his brown tie with white polka dots. I knew it was a really intense day when he took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and undid his top collar button. I was so comforted to see him still there. If Peter Jennings was still at his desk, it had to be okay.
I remember going outside--the sky was blue, the birds were singing, it was a gorgeous day, and it was so weird not to see any planes in the sky. I remember how something so awful could have happened on such a beautiful day?
I was working in reservations for a large hotel chain at the time, and called to see what was going on. Our ops guy said it was the slowest he'd ever seen it. We were doing anything the customers wanted at that point, even cancelling reservations that it was considered to late to cancel on. I got maybe one call every 20 minutes or so. As scary as that day was, it was the only day at that job that it felt that every caller on the other end of the line knew that I was a person, not just a nameless, faceless operator. I'd never felt so close to strangers.
everyone i loved together and lock them in a room."
--a woman from the April '05 Kids board
That's exactly how I felt. I was asleep. A few months before, I'd gotten an apartment and was living alone for the first time. I went to sleep and woke up to the phone ringing. It was TheHusband, then TheFiance. He sounded so scared. He told me about all three flights. I spent the rest of the day until I had to go to work glued to the tv set and Peter Jennings in his brown tie with white polka dots. I knew it was a really intense day when he took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and undid his top collar button. I was so comforted to see him still there. If Peter Jennings was still at his desk, it had to be okay.
I remember going outside--the sky was blue, the birds were singing, it was a gorgeous day, and it was so weird not to see any planes in the sky. I remember how something so awful could have happened on such a beautiful day?
I was working in reservations for a large hotel chain at the time, and called to see what was going on. Our ops guy said it was the slowest he'd ever seen it. We were doing anything the customers wanted at that point, even cancelling reservations that it was considered to late to cancel on. I got maybe one call every 20 minutes or so. As scary as that day was, it was the only day at that job that it felt that every caller on the other end of the line knew that I was a person, not just a nameless, faceless operator. I'd never felt so close to strangers.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Just when you thought you were safe
from the Monster that is Teething, you have another cute, innocent, sweet little baby who also decides that 5 months is the perfect time to cut a tooth.
I'm renaming the kids, by the way. The initials are annoying me. N will now be known as Eeny. H is now Rooster. There. I feel much better.
Eeny cut his first two teeth at 5 months, so H seems to be trying to make this a pattern. Ack. Anyway, Mr. Cranky Rooster got up from a late nap around 9. He then proceeded to yell through his dose of Hyland's Teething Tablets, which worked for about 10 minutes. We couldn't find the Tylenol, much to my dismay. He screamed and refused to nurse through an online attempt of mine to find a dress to wear to two upcoming weddings (I have 5 months or so to go from housefrau to Hot, and I needed to find a dress for motivation), and proceeded to refuse to nurse and to bitch and moan for the next hour, in spite of my best attempts to solve his problems.
Finally, I took him to the other room to waltz around in the dark and sing. The little booger snickered at my version of "On my Own" from Les Mis. It wasn't a bad job of it, but Someone obviously has a skewed sense of taste in music. I thought about doing a few from Phantom of the Opera or Carousel, but he's already a tough audience.
It's not fair. TheHusband can't carry a tune in an airtight container, but both of the boys love his singing. :::flail::::
Still looking for a job. A psychiatrist in town may employ me as a typist for his notes. I can do that from home, so I hope it works.
I'm renaming the kids, by the way. The initials are annoying me. N will now be known as Eeny. H is now Rooster. There. I feel much better.
Eeny cut his first two teeth at 5 months, so H seems to be trying to make this a pattern. Ack. Anyway, Mr. Cranky Rooster got up from a late nap around 9. He then proceeded to yell through his dose of Hyland's Teething Tablets, which worked for about 10 minutes. We couldn't find the Tylenol, much to my dismay. He screamed and refused to nurse through an online attempt of mine to find a dress to wear to two upcoming weddings (I have 5 months or so to go from housefrau to Hot, and I needed to find a dress for motivation), and proceeded to refuse to nurse and to bitch and moan for the next hour, in spite of my best attempts to solve his problems.
Finally, I took him to the other room to waltz around in the dark and sing. The little booger snickered at my version of "On my Own" from Les Mis. It wasn't a bad job of it, but Someone obviously has a skewed sense of taste in music. I thought about doing a few from Phantom of the Opera or Carousel, but he's already a tough audience.
It's not fair. TheHusband can't carry a tune in an airtight container, but both of the boys love his singing. :::flail::::
Still looking for a job. A psychiatrist in town may employ me as a typist for his notes. I can do that from home, so I hope it works.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
You know you're a homebirther when
the following conversation takes place in your kitchen:
Me: How many chicken breasts to we have?
DH: Four.
Me: That's it? Wait, isn't there another bag back there? It looks like there's another bag of them back there.
DH: Those are placentas.
Me: Ohhhhhhhh.....
Me: How many chicken breasts to we have?
DH: Four.
Me: That's it? Wait, isn't there another bag back there? It looks like there's another bag of them back there.
DH: Those are placentas.
Me: Ohhhhhhhh.....
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