A new record
Howie, the lightweight, ate 2/3 of a pancake today. I believe that his aunt jinxed it when she asked, "are you going to eat a whole pancake?!" I think he might have gone all the way. And this, after asking for ham* as soon as we got back from dinner last night, then he thought he had to nurse all through the night and asked for crackers as soon as he got up. We're hoping this is a new trend, or at least a growth spurt. Another possibility is tapeworm.
*edited for typo
It's the little things
we had a bit of a rough night, so I thought I'd list some of the things at which I can't help but smile.
-feeling my way to bed and catching hold of a little foot
-little eyes wide with wonder
-little hands waving
-a little head on my shoulder and the words "I num mom"
-big laughs
-little fingers up my nose- not so much
How about you?
they're two, they're four, they're six...
I could have stood to go a few more years without knowing the Thomas theme song.
on a quest
alright, enough whining
Here's what I'm looking for- brown shoes that are comfortable enough so that I can wear them for a week straight. They need to be mostly but not entirely casual, so I can wear them everywhere, and also feel okay in a nice restaurant or museum.
My top choice so far-
more plain, but more plain
not the ideal brown, but I like something about them (also comes with red stitching)
so not practical, but I heart them
What do you think? You can click on the pictures and they get bigger and clearer.
Shopping for shoes online can be so frustrating, but I think it's even worse to wander the whole mall with Howie in tow trying on everything I see. The problem with all of these is that they come in European sizes. I've never owned or even tried on a pair of European shoes in my life. I know I'm probably a 41-42, but have no idea, really. I guess it's off to the mall to see if I can find any of these to actually try on. I had hoped to get this done yesterday, maybe tomorrow we'll be up for an outing.
Epidemiology
I promise this is my last post on the puke pandemic that hit our house.
Where the heck did it come from? My sister who lives with us (Fred- yes, really her nickname) got sick in the middle of the night. That pretty well confirms that it isn't food poisoning for any of us, just a 24 hour stomach virus. Especially since there's no one food that all of us eat, but really, where could we have picked it up? It's not like we have a kid in school, or the chuch nursery or are sociable enough for regular playdates with someone who fits either of those categories.
Matt and Howie went out on Saturday afternoon. They were the first to get sick, and I was about 8 hours behind them, which makes sense because I worked a double shift on Saturday and didn't really see them until that night. Fred was even farther behind which lines up with her seeing Howie Sunday morning. I suspect that we have a carrier monkey situation since neither Fred and I, nor she and Matt are in close contact.
It could have been the Monday morning trip to Target, because we had to run something Matt forgot back to his office before he left. He kissed Howie then, but that doesn't make sense for me not getting sick until after them. Howie got a sucker from the receptionist that I let him eat on the way home. I held it in my mouth while I washed him up, so if it was Monday, I would have been sick yesterday morning like them. Saturday is the only outing that works for all of us to have been infected before Matt left. It must have been the Target shopping cart, or maybe the train table at Barnes and Noble when they were out running errands. but a stomach bug that incubates from Saturday to Tuesday morning? I guess it's possible since the other two times Howie has been sick were when we went to a party on a Sunday when the hosting family had been sick earlier that week. He got sick on Wednesday. The next time we had a playdate on Tuesday and he was sick on Friday- same situation where the friends had recently been sick.
sorry for my rambling. I'm such a germaphobe, and we're generally pretty lucky in avoiding illness. This kept me awake last night. I'm trying to figure out 1, if we got it from someone we know and 2, if I should warn the neighbors we played outside with on Monday afternoon.
I spoke too soon
either we're experiencing sympathy pukiness, or Matt picked up whatever he has before he left. Howie has been sick all day. He's got a fever and has been lethargic and grumpy as hell. He did puke once, but that's par for the course with Howie these days. I started feeling yucky mid-afternoon and started throwing up around 7. Maybe I shouldn't have laughed at him.
Relatedly- bad news, Mom. Any thoughts I've had in the past few weeks about maybe being ready to start thinking about trying for another have gone out the window. I've gone from a wishy-washy stance that maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing ever back to full on panic attacks about doing it while chasing a toddler. There's no way I'm remotely willing to feel naseous, achy and exhausted all day and still care for Howie for weeks or months when I was miserable enough doing it for one afternoon. I'm just not ready to risk having a pregnancy like Jennifer or Char.
Pictures of your grandson in an attempt to satiate you-
Sickie Howie
He got ahold of the clean laundry
I feel bad for laughing
warning for Shelah- a story about puke
I can't help but laugh. I just spoke with Matt. The poor guy is sitting in his hotel room puking his guts out. He's apparently the victim of food poisoning. I laughed a little at that, mostly at the irony of the logistics of scheduling this trip and that it was kind of a big deal and now he's stuck in the hotel. Whine as I may about being home alone, at least I'm not vomiting. There's nothing worse than that.
He threw up once this morning and then they all went down for breakfast. He wasn't feeling well, so he grabbed a yogurt and headed back to the room. He felt worse and worse as he rode the elevator up. He finally got back to his room and his key didn't work. He tried to wait it out for a co-worker to come back up, but he just kept feeling worse. He searched the sparse hotel hallway for anywhere he could puke- planter, trashcan, anything. He ended up going back to the elevators. There, he found a trashcan, but the top didn't come off and the opening was on the side. Then he spotted a big black trash bag and thought he'd found his solution. He ripped it open and as he started to barf he noticed it was freshly laundered and folded towels. Can you imagine the cleaning service finding that?
The man sounded miserable, but I laughed so hard I woke up Howie who had just drifted off in my arms.
See you later alligator
We had to get up early(ish) to take Matt to work today. He's leaving for Atlanta this afternoon and will be gone until Wednesday night. I'm not a fan of single parenthood. We made it through the first four years of marriage without him being gone, but as soon as we had a kid, he started traveling. Not a lot, just three times in the last year, but I still miss him when he's gone.
I went directly to Target from his office. That was a stupid thing to do because now I'm wondering what I'm going to do for the next three days to pass the time. I should have saved it for Wednesday afternoon when I'm counting down to his return. Anyone want to have a playdate?
a waste of a Sunday
Today I
-slept until 8:30
-cuddled Howie until 9
-read the paper and had breakfast
-played outside with Howie while Matt did some yardwork
-swept up after said yardwork
-chatted with the neighbors who were also outside (though not the dog neighbors)
-took Howie for a walk with Matt
-put Howie down for a nap
-had some lunch
-had some sex :-O
-took a nap
-took a shower
-took Howie outside again and pulled some weeds in the backyard
-made dinner with Matt
-worked a few hours
-put away the dishes
-am now playing online
what a perfect... Saturday.
We are so out of the habit of going to church. I don't know what to do. Every week I resolve again that we're going the next week. Every week I get up with the full intent of going and most weeks we don't.
two weeks flat
- how long it took me to kill a rose bush. I've been worried about it all week. Thursday it was looking pretty sad. I'm pretty sure tonight that it's dead.
Why Saturday showers are the best
1. the shower is clean
2. no 30 inch tall companion
3. it can be as long as I want
4. Howie isn't unsupervised nor does either adult watching him need to leave for work soon
5. it's the only day all week I'm properly shorn, exfoliated and moisturized
I couldn't help but overhear...
My neighbor was sitting in her car talking on a cell phone this morning when I went out to bring the trash cans back in. Weird, but whatever. I stayed out to do some weeding while Howie played in the grass. We were on the side of the yard next to her house and she got out of her car to bring in her trash barrel. Still on the phone, she starts talking rather loudly about receiving a letter about their chocolate lab running loose. It mentioned him by name and said that even if he's in the garage, he needs to be on a leash. She seemed rather upset to have received this notice.
Well, he charges every person who walks by, and though I've never heard of death by tail wagging, it can be a little disconcerting. Also, they scream his name every time he runs out. It could have been anyone in the neighborhood who doesn't like a very large and enthusiastic dog running toward their children who turned them in. Given the circumstances in which she was proclaiming it while I was outside, I'm afraid she thinks it was us.
It totally wasn't. We might not be the most social or outgoing neighbors (I get that from my mom), but we know Hank isn't going to hurt anyone and would never turn them in for that. Overall, he's pretty good, as far as dogs go. I wanted to say something but didn't have a chance or the guts to do it.
Should I approach her later? What if they don't suspect us; will that make it look like I have a guilty conscience? I'm baking some banana bread now. Maybe I'll take a loaf over later. I couldn't help but overhear...
meme's the word
Amber tagged me. I guess I'll play along.
6 weird things about me I have to be just the right temperature to fall asleep. My feet can't be too cold or hot. So, depending on the season they're either tucked under Matt's leg or on top of the covers. I'm just glad he's willing to put up with my icy toes, but it's torture falling asleep without him when he pulls an all nighter or goes out of town. Socks don't work because my feet are too hot by morning. Also, I have to have my shoulders covered. Before Howie was born that meant a blanket or at least a sheet pulled up around my neck. Now that he shares our bed, I have to sleep in a long sleeved t-shirt.
I'm afraid of knives to the point of being irrational. I can't bear to hear stories or think about someone being cut. If I see someone using a cutting device in a potentially dangerous way, I shudder uncontrollably- practically to the verge of panic. I couldn't even be in the basement when Matt was cutting the metal studs with the miter saw. I also have a fear of a knife falling into a running disposal and losing a finger or something. I won't run the disposal if a knife is in the sink or even my hand.
I'm completely tone deaf.
completely. I can't pick a note out, follow a tune or even tell which is the higher of two similar notes. Maybe it's related to my inability to filter background noise. If I've ever yelled at you across a table in a noisy situation, this would be why. Perhaps it's also why I can't stand the beeping of appliances. I turn off every cycle signal possible, washer, dryer, microwave- all silent, cell phone- on vibrate...
I can't stand wind in any form. Whether it's a fan, air conditioner or cool tropical breeze, it drives me nuts and is all the worse if it's directly in my face. My new vacuum has a filter on the front and the exhaust comes out there. It's warm and hits my face if I have to lean in front of it to move something. It makes me want to gag, and not just because it's vacuum exhaust. Sometimes I think it would be nice to live closer to our parents, but then we drive across Wyoming or get off the plane and I remember that it's windy there. I don't want to live where it's always windy.
I have ice cream bulemia. It makes me puke. Nothing else has that effect, but a serving of ice cream will come right back out, still cold and undigested. Yet, I still love it and eat it often (at least when dairy was a part of my diet). I know it's weird; that's why I'm writing about it here.
I'm a perfectionist by proxy- I hold others around me to impossibly high standards and have arguably unreasonable expections of them while not maintaining the same standards for myself. My work is generally half-assed at best. Howie is doing a pretty good job of humbling me by extension. I think that one might be more jerky than weird.
Can we still be friends?
I won't tag anyone, because I think everyone I know who blogs has already been listed.
Don't be a hater
Howie doesn't like this
Dairy Queen commerical. He seriously freaks out. He starts screaming as soon as it comes on- long before the woman starts her daydream or the man is yelling "you did this to me!" Matt's theory is that he doesn't like Asians. I think it's the ice cream. Maybe a flashback to that night I ate
Gretchen's Golden Nugget?
Happy Easter
Here are a few shots of Howie yesterday. We didn't do a basket or eggs or anything. The suckers are from the neighborhood egg hunt/picnic on Friday. I needed something to distract him while I finished cooking.
Lastly, Easter Brunch. Ham, devilled eggs, fresh fruit and hot cross buns. yum!
Master procrastinators
I just filed our taxes with about 13 hours to spare. We don't even owe.
Why does it make me giggle...
to flip past the Ten Commandments the night before Easter? Maybe it's Yul Brynner. Maybe it's his loin cloth. I swear I've seen at least a couple seconds of it on ABC every year for the past 20 years. I've never watched more than a few minutes of it. Maybe I'd stop giggling if I did.
My pavlovian parents
Today I didn't get any farther than sweeping in my attempt to clean the kitchen and made cookies tonight (= bigger mess). My sister came home upset tonight. I didn't know why or at whom, but like drooling at the sound of a dinner bell, I started cleaning up.
I couldn't help it, straightening is my natural response in that situation. I think it's because I didn't get in trouble very often when I was growing up. At least 90% of the time an angry mother = chores not done. A messy house when my dad got home meant an instant bad mood for the rest of the evening. Between those two factors, my brain got programmed that if someone is angry, that means I need to clean up. If Matt's in a bad mood, the clutter on the island seems 10 times worse. I walk on eggshells trying to get it clean as fast as I can before I even dare try to speak to him.
The lesson? make sure your house is clean if you ever want to have my full attention during an argument.
Where'd this kid come from?
I often fail to realize how big Howie is getting. He's still a baby in my mind, but I know he's a full-on toddler to most of the people around us.
Other than the obvious walking, talking, and temper tantrums, here are some signs that we've moved beyond the baby stage-
-reading the same book 4-6 times in a row
-spelling words in conversation with adults (b-a-n-a-n-a-s)
-discovering abandoned sippy cups under the bed and snacks in the mixing bowls (b-a-n-a-n-a-s)
-finding folded socks, toys and items from kitchen drawers in the trash
-installing latches on the kitchen cupboards
-eating our words that we weren't going to put latches on cupboards
This is fun, right?
Disappointing the dysonites
We did buy a vacuum over the weekend. Alissa knows me too well. I headed to Sears armed with the Consumer Reports ratings. I pushed around a couple vacuums Friday night, but wasn't ready to buy. I looked up some more info that night and went to bed thinking I was going to buy a $300 Kenmore (rated #1 and #2 depending on bag/bagless). I woke up feeling differently. Do you have any idea how few things in our house cost more than $300? A vacuum couldn't be in the top 5 of our most valuable possessions. I think we'd have to take out another insurance policy if I bought a dyson.
I went with the #4 rated Eureka Boss SmartVac.
"A CR Best Buy. Highest performance for the dollar. Excelled at most cleaning, but hard to pull."
Well said. Maybe I'll upgrade in another 5 years or so.
What are the symptoms of withdrawal?
I think I've had them all in the past 56 hours. Yes, I counted. I also have some choice thoughts on Qwest's spirit of service, but I'll keep those to myself to protect parties who are otherwise invested with that company.
Getting older
28- not old by any means, but it's got me in a pensive mood. Matt asked me last night if I feel older. Unquestionably, yes- and it kind of snuck up on me. When I was in orientation to start work, they told us that shift seniority in our class would be determined by age. I looked around and got discouraged because there couldn't have been more than about 5 people younger than me. Wrong. I was number 34 out of 52. That was my first hint that I was older than my brain was processing.
I remember feeling a little of this last fall when Matt turned 28. I kept saying that it sounds so old, but that's not really what I mean. It's just that it isn't young anymore. We're well past 25 and no longer a young couple or young parents. We're not the young hotshots at work. We're just kind of middle of the road. No one is surprised at your achievements because you've had plenty of time to work on them and should be mature enough to tackle big tasks (not that I've done anything great lately, but Matt never ceases to make me proud). He tried to argue last night, telling me it was all a matter of perception. Well, I perceive us getting older. All the white hairs I keep finding are making sure of that.
I need to find a teenage girl from our neighborhood to watch Howie for a few hours. I remember babysitting for people my age when I was in high school, and that makes me feel old.
The vicious circle
Howie still doesn't sleep through the night. Again for the raised eyebrows- yes, he still wakes several times a night to nurse for a few minutes. I know I mentioned weaning last week, but we haven't taken any steps toward that. None of us have the drive right now. Plus, he's eating food a little better for me. We discovered that he likes bananas (or mmmm b-nahahs as he calls them) and will eat anything else I put along side them for breakfast.
At least he's going 3-4 hour stretches at night. It gives me some hope. Before I had to be gone in the evenings, it was every two hours like clockwork. I don't know if we'll ever get him sleeping through the night with an
all night milk bar.
If I had it to do all over again
Howie is still in our bed. I'll clarify for the benefit of the eyebrows that have been raised. Yes, our bed, not just bedroom. We never intended to co-sleep. We brought him home from the hospital at 8 days old after a horrific first week. We were exhausted but just couldn't bring ourselves to put him in his bassinet for that first nap. It was a slippery slide from there, despite warnings and advice from friends and family.
We tried to leave him in his bed at night for the next couple weeks, but he was in our bed pretty much full time by Christmas. By the time we moved in March, we didn't even bother to set it up. A friend gave us a crib later that spring which we set up when he started rolling. We left one side off and bungy corded the legs to our bed in a sidecar fashion. He never slept in it, but it did provide a buffer so no one fell out. We left it like that all summer until we painted the bedroom in September. Then we left it fully assembled in the corner until February. It held toys, extra pillows, Howie (wide awake) a few times when I needed a shower and most often laundry that needed to be put away. We took it down just before I started my job. We toyed with weaning and moving him out of our bed all at once. We decided that me being gone 40 hours a week through training was enough of an adjustment, and in our bed he stayed.
So, if I could go back 16 months, would I let him sleep in our bed? Abso-freaking-lutley. I've been spending part of the night on the couch the last few nights. I've been coughing a lot and I don't want to disturb Howie. Well, Matt either, but I know he can go back to sleep on his own. It's so stinking painful to have to roll out of bed, run down the hall, stay awake while he's eating and shuffle back to a cold bed. I can't imagine doing it several times a night through the exhausting first months. Nope, roll over and both drift back to sleep while he nurses is definitely my preferred method. Not to mention that he's pretty sweet to wake up to. As long as he's still nursing, I think
he'll be in our bed.
If only I was a transvestite
I could do one awesome Joan Rivers impersonation today. I don't think my voice can get any lower or raspier.
Happy Anniversay, RIP
our vacuum died Tuesday. Well, stopped working. I think it may be as simple of a fix as a new belt, but I've signed a DNR order. I never expected it to last this long. We bought it for about $60 5 years ago this month. I remember because we picked it up on one of my visits out here just before we got married. It's always been mediocre and that was fine in rentals. Now that I actually own the carpet and have a child who spends most of his time playing on it, we need something a little more powerful. I guess I should have told Matt it died a year ago, huh?
Matt's on board for a new one, but says I can't be a follower and get a
dyson like all my cool friends. Although, looking at their website makes me reconsider forming an argument to get one. [shudder]
I debated whether this was even too mundane to post, but really- vacuum shopping is what's going on in my life today. So, any recommendations?
Who's your intended audience?
Our backyard neighbors are from Mexico. This
last week they decorated their cars and windows in the good old red white and green. On Sunday I noticed that they had written "Viva Mexico" on their kitchen windows. It was facing into the house, so backward to us. On Monday morning, it was facing out. I got a crazy idea and made them some cookies yesterday. They weren't anything special- made from
cake mix and canned frosting with some after Christmas clearance sprinkles and sort of ugly. What can I say? I'm no
Amber.
Anyway, last night they washed the writing off. I guess they were embarassed. I don't know what they were expecting. I mean, they had it facing out on the back of their house where only two families could see it. Matt says they washed it off because they realized we were on their side. I say it's because they learned I am a crazy stalker neighbor. At least I
found my ring in the process.
Can you see that?
It's my wedding ring. I found it yesterday in the back of my untinsel drawer. I found it whilst searching for my frosting spatula. I lost it at the beginning of February (superbowl Sunday). I took it off to make rolls, and distinctly remember "putting it somewhere safe" (wth? I'm totally losing it). I'd pretty much given up on finding it. We tore the kitchen apart to paint it, so I knew it wasn't behind any large appliance. I started jumping up and down when I spotted it. I am, in a word, giddy.
Finally on the front end of a trend
I've always been a bargain/clearance shopper. I think it comes from growing up without much money and having to pay for nearly everything on my own. In high school a friend once asked my why I only ever looked at the clearance racks. I just shrugged rather than explain that my parents didn't pay for my clothes. Plus, I think it's fun to find an awesome deal. Target is by far my favorite store. I know where every clearance rack in the store is- another subject that is sometimes the focus of teasing.
The problem with being a clearance shopper is that your new things are most often out of season. A perfect example would be the futon I have in my office. Last fall I bought a twin sized duvet set that fit and worked perfectly as a cover. It was bright stripes on one side and hibiscus on the other. I got tired of it after having it bright and cheery all winter and a few weeks ago I found a new cover (super clearance, naturally). I also found some pillows at a steal. I originally bought them because even buying the whole pillow was a great price for the pillow form inside. My mom came to visit the last weekend of March and her only comment for the new cover was that my last one was much more "Eastery." I'll include pictures rather than try to describe the new colors/look. (I've since removed the tags, this was taken when I was still trying to decide to go with it).
Matt's parents came to visit in February and his mom made us curtains for the kitchen and nook. She did a phenomenal job. We modified a style that I had seen on a message board, but she improvised based completely on photos and a few general instructions. I think it's a testament to her talent that people ask where I bought them. I love to tell them that she made them for me. I also like to tell them that I'm one hell of a cutter and presser. Like I learned at the one enrichment night when I tried to fool myself that I might actually learn to sew- you can't have good sewing without good cutting and pressing. I also think it's funny that no one asks if I made them. I guess they know me well enough to know that I can't do anything in a straight line, let alone sew.
Matt and I painted the kitchen to match. At the last minute I went with the darker color. I regretted it for several weeks, but it's really grown on me. I think my mind was just rejecting any color at all since we'd spent the first year in this house drowning in a sea of beige.
I've been looking for new towels and rugs since we made the change 6 weeks ago. Target didn't have anything in that color range, and I rarely get to any other store. Last week they had some beige/tan sets on clearance. Even though that's what we're trying to move away from, I figured they would work better than the pale blue items that used to be the colors in my kitchen. There was a whole stack and not on *super* clearance yet, so I decided to take my chances and hope the price came down. Then I turned the corner into the kitchen linens aisle. WAAAA - it was like angels were singing. There in the new arrivals were towels that will go perfectly in my kitchen. I was giddy. For once, I've got something in my house that is just coming in rather than going out. Did I buy them? No, of course not. They weren't even on sale yet.
There's a car
What
Dr. Lei didn't know about Howie saying "there's a car" is that he says the phrase about 25 times a day. He definitely knows what cars are, but I think he's missing something. He says car in his sleep. Keys, his jacket, putting on his shoes and anything with wheels are all called car. He says car when there's no car in sight. I think it's his default conversation piece and he brings it up if he feels we've been quiet too long.
His official first sentence was "Oh wow, there's a car!" It wasn't. It was
Thomas. This morning, like may others, he woke me up by yelling "there's a car!" repeatedly. I assure you that there are no cars in our bedroom.
I was starting to worry that he was going to call everything a car, but he changed it up a little in Target. He correctly told me, "there's a shoe" and "there's a ball". Cars are still his main love. Today while looking at a picture book I asked him where the bear was. He took my finger like I usually do with his when I'm helping him find something. He pointed to... what else? "there's a car!"
Here's the haircut
I'm not sure if it's sticking up because I cut it too short, or because he just got up from his nap. I think I'll blame the nap. Also, that's the ear I messed up over.
Spring Forward
Bah. I don't spring anywhere when I have to get up an hour early.
a little off the top
Howie has always had a bit of a comb over. It's back to front (think The Donald) rather than side to side. He was born with a decent amount of hair, but everything on the top fell out within a month. He had a sort of baby mullet thing going on. As the back and sides started growing, the top stayed bald. He's had little more than peach fuzz up there for the past year. He's had two haircuts, but we've always left the top alone. It has filled in a little with his recent growth trend. I finally got brave enough this morning to cut it myself. After making a bad chop mark above his left ear, I retired the scissors in favor of the clippers. Here are a few pictures.
before-
how sparse the top is-
anyone got a bow?-
So long, Mr. Trump.
ps, I'll get a new after picture tomorrow. Apparently Matt doesn't like me posting pictures of him when he's doped up on cold medicine. Who would've guessed?
