"Mommy, I don't like your shirt. It is not beautiful. And your shoes don't match."
"Daddy, I don't like the sound of your voice because it sounds like you have a broken tooth."
She's Here... and Still- Sort Of- Nameless!
10 hours ago
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Snippets
Here it is November 15. And we have had two spectacularly awesome days. Sun. 70 degrees. Feels like picnic-in-the-park weather. I just planted 60 tulips, 60 crocuses and 45 irises. All purple and red. Now. I just have to sit here and wait for five months. Hmm.
*****
Becca told John she didn't want him to drive her to school the other day because, as she put it, "I don't like the way your hair looks."
She told me that she wants me to come to her school for one of their parties. But only if I "wear my hair down."
*****
Andrew has made the sounds of: a dog, a goat/sheep, a cat and a fire truck. But he doesn't do them on command. He can do sign language for "please" and possibly for "eat" and "more", but those aren't documented. I thought I heard him say "ball" a couple times, but am not sure. He babbles a lot. But, he still has ZERO words. He has said Mama and Dada but I don't think it was in context. What the hell? He has certain sounds that mean certain things, "ah ah ah" said with a certain (desperate) inflection means I want to eat THAT. Smacking his lips means he's hungry. And for everything else....whining does the trick. Holy SHIT can this kid whine. And God forbid I leave the room he is in, because you would swear someone has cut off one of his limbs. He just LOSES IT. If there were a bridge, he would leap off it. He cries like he is never going to see me again. DOOOOM!!!! I spend a good portion of my time sneaking around corners and ducking up staircases hoping he won't notice I left his sight.
However, HOWEVER! He can play by himself and entertain himself. He climbs up and goes down the slide by himself. Also, whenever he sees me he gives me a hug. He cuddles! And after raising Pepe Le Pew's girlfriend, that is a welcome change.
****
I am making progress on my Complete the Christmas Madness Before Thanksgiving Goal. I have ordered our Christmas cards and have updated last year's recipient list. I have purchased gifts for everyone except my brother and my husband. I have a few other random things to get to finish it off. I am now moving on to getting everything I need for Becca's birthday and birthday party. Then stocking stuffers.
Two years ago when we were enduring the Great Poorness of First Year Airline Pilot Hell I cut waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy back on Christmas gifts for everyone. I just got everyone one thing. And that was it. And I took the pressure off myself to find That Perfect Gift or The Perfect Gifts. I realized I am not the only person buying gifts for people. People get gifts from a bunch of people. As long as it was something somewhat thoughtful...and affordable. That was good. Man, people. That RULED. So I am all for the "buy one gift for each person" mindset now. Of course, there are exceptions--usually the people who actually reside with me get a few more things, etc. But really. I have toned it down. And I am much happier for it.
(I don't know if the gift recipients are happier, but who cares about them, anyway?)
(Totally kidding.)
(But really, I am happier. So that does rule.)
(If Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy.)
So, I made a list of everyone who was getting a gift from us. Then I tried to think up one thing for everyone (unless the one thing was a gift assortment of smaller things). Then I went out shopping and bought them. Some people got something totally different than I originally intended. Some I ordered online. I am a great fan of photo gifts from online photography Web sites. I wrote down how much I spent on each person so I won't be tempted to keep buying and buying more. Now it is all sitting in my basement awaiting wrapping and mailing. Man, I hate the mailing part. The shopping was the fun part. Now the procrastination begins.
*****
Becca told John she didn't want him to drive her to school the other day because, as she put it, "I don't like the way your hair looks."
She told me that she wants me to come to her school for one of their parties. But only if I "wear my hair down."
*****
Andrew has made the sounds of: a dog, a goat/sheep, a cat and a fire truck. But he doesn't do them on command. He can do sign language for "please" and possibly for "eat" and "more", but those aren't documented. I thought I heard him say "ball" a couple times, but am not sure. He babbles a lot. But, he still has ZERO words. He has said Mama and Dada but I don't think it was in context. What the hell? He has certain sounds that mean certain things, "ah ah ah" said with a certain (desperate) inflection means I want to eat THAT. Smacking his lips means he's hungry. And for everything else....whining does the trick. Holy SHIT can this kid whine. And God forbid I leave the room he is in, because you would swear someone has cut off one of his limbs. He just LOSES IT. If there were a bridge, he would leap off it. He cries like he is never going to see me again. DOOOOM!!!! I spend a good portion of my time sneaking around corners and ducking up staircases hoping he won't notice I left his sight.
However, HOWEVER! He can play by himself and entertain himself. He climbs up and goes down the slide by himself. Also, whenever he sees me he gives me a hug. He cuddles! And after raising Pepe Le Pew's girlfriend, that is a welcome change.
****
I am making progress on my Complete the Christmas Madness Before Thanksgiving Goal. I have ordered our Christmas cards and have updated last year's recipient list. I have purchased gifts for everyone except my brother and my husband. I have a few other random things to get to finish it off. I am now moving on to getting everything I need for Becca's birthday and birthday party. Then stocking stuffers.
Two years ago when we were enduring the Great Poorness of First Year Airline Pilot Hell I cut waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy back on Christmas gifts for everyone. I just got everyone one thing. And that was it. And I took the pressure off myself to find That Perfect Gift or The Perfect Gifts. I realized I am not the only person buying gifts for people. People get gifts from a bunch of people. As long as it was something somewhat thoughtful...and affordable. That was good. Man, people. That RULED. So I am all for the "buy one gift for each person" mindset now. Of course, there are exceptions--usually the people who actually reside with me get a few more things, etc. But really. I have toned it down. And I am much happier for it.
(I don't know if the gift recipients are happier, but who cares about them, anyway?)
(Totally kidding.)
(But really, I am happier. So that does rule.)
(If Mama ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy.)
So, I made a list of everyone who was getting a gift from us. Then I tried to think up one thing for everyone (unless the one thing was a gift assortment of smaller things). Then I went out shopping and bought them. Some people got something totally different than I originally intended. Some I ordered online. I am a great fan of photo gifts from online photography Web sites. I wrote down how much I spent on each person so I won't be tempted to keep buying and buying more. Now it is all sitting in my basement awaiting wrapping and mailing. Man, I hate the mailing part. The shopping was the fun part. Now the procrastination begins.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Put Your Hands Up If You Feel Me (But Wash Them First)
It has happened. The world has come around to my way of thinking. It took an overblown media freak out over a possible pandemic....but hey! Whatever it takes! Germaphobia is the "in" thing.
Finally.
Purell wipes by all the grocery carts. Hand sanitizing stations in the gym and at preschool. The preacher at church saying that people may not want to shake hands during the greeting time. People now know to sneeze and cough into their elbows and not their hands. Everyone washing their hands.
Hallelujah.
I have never been a big fan of germs (who is!?) But after Becca had some weird reactions to seemingly normal illnesses and ended up in various hospitals and ERs and an ambulance...I started my slow descent off the deep end. Then, I had to have a damn blood transfusion to my fetus because of catching a "harmless" toddler virus, and I got a little worse. When Becca was in the hospital with pneumonia for 4 days this spring I made the final plunge. Now I'm a full-scale germaphobe. I am dealing with it. I am still functioning in society. That is, if you count not wanting to leave the house as functioning. Which, I do. Because we do leave the house. I put my kids in the gym nursery and preschool, and occasionally church.
I may be crazy. But I am still rational.
Of course, I think about what virus they are going to pick up. I think about that more than I should. Maybe 100 times a day? Something like that. But I just take a deep breath, bust out more hand sanitizer and tell myself it is good for them to build up their immune systems. They will make it out alive. It will be okay. We won't be in the hospital for a week this time. Really. It is better for us all around to be out and about in the world.
So. We do our stuff. Andrew is in a mommy-and-me class while Becca's gymnastics class meets. He crawls all over the mats. He slides down the slide. He puts his face in the foam blocks. I cringe inwardly, but smile. I laugh. I joke about what he's going to pick up. I twitch a little. I listen with ears perked on high alert to the other mothers discussing their kids' H1N1 symptoms. I make a mental note of who's children to avoid. But I continue on...smiling....stomach in knots. Wondering who will spike a high fever and start barfing soonest. Every night when I go to bed, I wonder to myself if tonight is the night someone is going to get raging sick. Every night I think about that.
When going to the grocery store or Target, I do my best to make sure Andrew doesn't lick any unsanitized shopping cart. If I only need a couple things, I wear him in the baby carrier, or take the stroller in to avoid the whole shopping cart thing. I make Becca wash her hands when she comes back from anything--school, gymnastics, the gym.
I am actually anti-anti-bacterial products. They are harming the Chesapeake Bay. They are making germs more resistant. I try to buy soaps that are just SOAP. Not anti-bacterial. Try finding those these days. Almost impossible. But then.....the media started tossing around the word pandemic and I went into full-scale paralytic mode. We're all going to die! Who will have the first funeral!? And now we have hand sanitzier stashed all over our cars, bags, house.
At least the rest of the world has caught on. We can all be crazy together.
Finally.
Purell wipes by all the grocery carts. Hand sanitizing stations in the gym and at preschool. The preacher at church saying that people may not want to shake hands during the greeting time. People now know to sneeze and cough into their elbows and not their hands. Everyone washing their hands.
Hallelujah.
I have never been a big fan of germs (who is!?) But after Becca had some weird reactions to seemingly normal illnesses and ended up in various hospitals and ERs and an ambulance...I started my slow descent off the deep end. Then, I had to have a damn blood transfusion to my fetus because of catching a "harmless" toddler virus, and I got a little worse. When Becca was in the hospital with pneumonia for 4 days this spring I made the final plunge. Now I'm a full-scale germaphobe. I am dealing with it. I am still functioning in society. That is, if you count not wanting to leave the house as functioning. Which, I do. Because we do leave the house. I put my kids in the gym nursery and preschool, and occasionally church.
I may be crazy. But I am still rational.
Of course, I think about what virus they are going to pick up. I think about that more than I should. Maybe 100 times a day? Something like that. But I just take a deep breath, bust out more hand sanitizer and tell myself it is good for them to build up their immune systems. They will make it out alive. It will be okay. We won't be in the hospital for a week this time. Really. It is better for us all around to be out and about in the world.
So. We do our stuff. Andrew is in a mommy-and-me class while Becca's gymnastics class meets. He crawls all over the mats. He slides down the slide. He puts his face in the foam blocks. I cringe inwardly, but smile. I laugh. I joke about what he's going to pick up. I twitch a little. I listen with ears perked on high alert to the other mothers discussing their kids' H1N1 symptoms. I make a mental note of who's children to avoid. But I continue on...smiling....stomach in knots. Wondering who will spike a high fever and start barfing soonest. Every night when I go to bed, I wonder to myself if tonight is the night someone is going to get raging sick. Every night I think about that.
When going to the grocery store or Target, I do my best to make sure Andrew doesn't lick any unsanitized shopping cart. If I only need a couple things, I wear him in the baby carrier, or take the stroller in to avoid the whole shopping cart thing. I make Becca wash her hands when she comes back from anything--school, gymnastics, the gym.
I am actually anti-anti-bacterial products. They are harming the Chesapeake Bay. They are making germs more resistant. I try to buy soaps that are just SOAP. Not anti-bacterial. Try finding those these days. Almost impossible. But then.....the media started tossing around the word pandemic and I went into full-scale paralytic mode. We're all going to die! Who will have the first funeral!? And now we have hand sanitzier stashed all over our cars, bags, house.
At least the rest of the world has caught on. We can all be crazy together.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
First Haircut --Brought to you by Ineptitude
I'd had it with the mullet.
So we went to get it trimmed. The lady clipped off a tiny lock as a keepsake.
I said "I want a regular, short little boy haircut." She trimmed up the mullet. And I insisted she trim the top a little. I kept saying "I want it.....layered....or whatever it is you do with boy haircuts." And she kept not doing much with it.
"How about evening up the top...", I said. She cut a little more. But not much. He looks the same except the mullet is gone. It wasn't a major transformation.
And somehow during all this, she bumped into her ledge and knocked the keepsake lock to the floor. And we couldn't find it. So I scraped up a few teeny scraps from my lap and stuffed them in the envelope.
So we went to get it trimmed. The lady clipped off a tiny lock as a keepsake. I said "I want a regular, short little boy haircut." She trimmed up the mullet. And I insisted she trim the top a little. I kept saying "I want it.....layered....or whatever it is you do with boy haircuts." And she kept not doing much with it."How about evening up the top...", I said. She cut a little more. But not much. He looks the same except the mullet is gone. It wasn't a major transformation.And somehow during all this, she bumped into her ledge and knocked the keepsake lock to the floor. And we couldn't find it. So I scraped up a few teeny scraps from my lap and stuffed them in the envelope. Saturday, November 07, 2009
The Whole Zen Thing
I am still trying to slow down on the multi-tasking thing. I can't stop making list after list after list. I've always been that way, but I am going overboard now in an attempt to meet two objectives: a) get all Christmas shopping done before Thanksgiving; and b) to try to still my ever-chaotic mind.
I have been telling myself over and over, "Slow down. Stop hurrying. Relax. Take a deep breath. Just be. One thing at a time. One thing at a time."
And then, someone spills their milk on the floor and someone else is screaming bloody murder because I dared leave the room, I'm supposed to pay that bill today, the dirty laundry has left the hamper and is threatening to take over the house, someone is playing in the toilet, I forgot to turn off the stove, someone is holding onto my leg, the phone is ringing, I need to finish unloading the dishwasher, someone just threw a sippy cup in the trash, someone is eating glitter glue, someone is screaming that they don't want to put their shoes on, and someone has just stepped in the pile of food under someone's high chair and slid across the floor on an avocado.
Objective B can suck it. (You knew that would happen, didn't you?) Objective B is nothing more than an impossible dream for Moms of little ones. This is why coffee and wine were invented.
But, I can still pull off Objective A. I did it four years ago, when I was pregnant with Becca. Her due date was December 13. We were living in Alaska and I had ALL my Christmas shopping done and gifts wrapped and mailed by Thanksgiving. That RULED. I LOVED it. I wouldn't have survived that December otherwise.
I want to do it again. Although, this year it won't be waking up with a newborn every hour that will be killing me, it will be choir rehearsals, concerts, christmas parties and birthday parties, and handling all that shit in paragraph three (above). I want to be baking banana bread and taking a nap on December 23, not running around like a crazy person.
Since my New Year's Resolution of "getting control" went out the window on January 2, I feel like I can redeem the year this way.
(Maybe.)
I have been telling myself over and over, "Slow down. Stop hurrying. Relax. Take a deep breath. Just be. One thing at a time. One thing at a time."
And then, someone spills their milk on the floor and someone else is screaming bloody murder because I dared leave the room, I'm supposed to pay that bill today, the dirty laundry has left the hamper and is threatening to take over the house, someone is playing in the toilet, I forgot to turn off the stove, someone is holding onto my leg, the phone is ringing, I need to finish unloading the dishwasher, someone just threw a sippy cup in the trash, someone is eating glitter glue, someone is screaming that they don't want to put their shoes on, and someone has just stepped in the pile of food under someone's high chair and slid across the floor on an avocado.
Objective B can suck it. (You knew that would happen, didn't you?) Objective B is nothing more than an impossible dream for Moms of little ones. This is why coffee and wine were invented.
But, I can still pull off Objective A. I did it four years ago, when I was pregnant with Becca. Her due date was December 13. We were living in Alaska and I had ALL my Christmas shopping done and gifts wrapped and mailed by Thanksgiving. That RULED. I LOVED it. I wouldn't have survived that December otherwise.
I want to do it again. Although, this year it won't be waking up with a newborn every hour that will be killing me, it will be choir rehearsals, concerts, christmas parties and birthday parties, and handling all that shit in paragraph three (above). I want to be baking banana bread and taking a nap on December 23, not running around like a crazy person.
Since my New Year's Resolution of "getting control" went out the window on January 2, I feel like I can redeem the year this way.
(Maybe.)
Thursday, November 05, 2009
A New Thought Process
I am always mulit-tasking. When I'm in line at the grocery store I am trying to figure out which errand should happen next. When I'm changing a diaper I am thinking about how I'm going to get both kids dressed in the most efficient way so I don't have to go up and down the stairs 12334576 times (that one never works.) When I'm driving, I am making phone calls. When I'm 5 minutes early for choir, I am writing out a grocery list. When the kids are in the bath, I'm wiping the bathroom counter. When I have 10 extra minutes before preschool pick-up I try to find a quick errand I need to complete. When I'm cleaning, I am meal planning. When I'm cooking, I'm thinking of what needs to be cleaned. When I'm doing laundry, I'm thinking about how I need to clean out the closets. When I'm watching TV at night, I'm trying to shop for Christmas gifts online.
God.
How annoying.
I know we women are great multi-taskers. We have twice as many connections between the two sides of our brain as men do. But it seems a great portion of my "tasking" is actually thinking about the next task. Or planning a way to make the next task more efficient. Not actually DOING anything. And, in the process, ruining the current thing I'm doing. Am I really accomplishing anything with the constant mental barrage?
Yesterday I wondered what it would be like to just....turn off that portion of my brain. Just BE. Not to always be thinking through the next step, the next errand, the next chore. When it is shower time, just take a shower. When it is time to grocery shop. Just do that. Don't be thinking about how I need to call the pediatrician. Or planning what to buy who for Christmas. Just do that later. Procrastinate my thoughts. Is this possible?
I'm giving it a whirl. Perhaps right before the holidays isn't the best time to try this out. Or maybe, just maybe, it is the perfect time.
God.
How annoying.
I know we women are great multi-taskers. We have twice as many connections between the two sides of our brain as men do. But it seems a great portion of my "tasking" is actually thinking about the next task. Or planning a way to make the next task more efficient. Not actually DOING anything. And, in the process, ruining the current thing I'm doing. Am I really accomplishing anything with the constant mental barrage?
Yesterday I wondered what it would be like to just....turn off that portion of my brain. Just BE. Not to always be thinking through the next step, the next errand, the next chore. When it is shower time, just take a shower. When it is time to grocery shop. Just do that. Don't be thinking about how I need to call the pediatrician. Or planning what to buy who for Christmas. Just do that later. Procrastinate my thoughts. Is this possible?
I'm giving it a whirl. Perhaps right before the holidays isn't the best time to try this out. Or maybe, just maybe, it is the perfect time.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
Oh Halloween.....How I Love to Hate Thee
It is no secret that I've not traditionally been a big fan of Halloween. The spending money on costumes when I'd much rather spend it on clothes I could wear every day. The pressure of figuring out something to do. The dreaded question, "What are YOU going to be?" What am I going to be? Crap. I don't know. Why do I have to be something? What's wrong with being a well-groomed person in normal clothes? The hideous decorations......gross dead things. Why do people want dead rotting corpse-things on their lawns? I think I'm missing an important piece of the puzzle. The sickly candy everywhere. I mean, if people would start handing out Flamin' Hot Cheetos it might be a different story.Lately, though, since having kids... I've been warming up to Halloween. The pumpkin carving, the kids' thrill over their costumes, the walking around trick or treating with a lovely adult beverage in hand, chatting with the neighbors. The Reeses's peanut butter cups.
We tried to carve a cat jack o'lantern from a too-detailed pattern, and ended up with a cat-like creature. Carving teeny whiskers out of a thick pumpkin turns out to be impossible. But, it is vaguely cat-ish. Right?
This year Andrew was a rooster (because he spent the last year waking us up all the time) and Becca wanted to be a pegasus. I think my eyeballs bugged out my head as I wracked my brain for how to turn her into a pegasus. Thank God for Ebay and Google, though. Because we found this contraption that makes it look like she is RIDING a pegasus/unicorn. Problem solved. She was going to dress as Aurora riding a pegasus/unicorn, but at the last minute opted for a too-short wedding dress. Turns out her Halloween costume was the Runaway Princess Bride.
So, Halloween. Well played. Not bad. Not bad.
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